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nonranghaes · 10 months

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heads up! mentions of a past abusive relationship (for reader). this should really go on wooahaes but i'm too lazy to format it rn and i need sleep so take this ig??? i might repost over there some other time....

there's things that are unfair about having a boyfriend like vernon. you think one of them is how pretty he can look when he's sleeping.

of course, he's still human. he ends up with messy hair, and sometimes he drools, and there's about a thousand other things you can list off about him when he sleeps... but he's still your boyfriend. and thus, every little 'flaw' he has is something you consider pretty on him. he would (and will, when he's in a sappy enough mood) say the exact same about you, to be fair. he shifts a little in his sleep, stretching and reaching for you.

you still remember overhearing him talk to his mom the morning after you slept in the same bed as him for the first time. it'd literally only been sleeping, but you heard him quietly say 'they trust me a lot,' to her while on the phone. he'd been unpacking breakfast. when she asked about it, he merely said "they fell asleep next to me. they've never done that before. i think... i think they trust me," in that pensive way, like he's thinking more than he's actually saying.

(i do, you told him later. trust you. i think i love you, too. and it'd been what made him say that he loves you for the first time--something he didn't expect to hear back without that 'i think' to protect yourself. you said it to him a few weeks later, and he teared up--although he'll always deny it when you bring it up now.)

"you're staring again." he pulls you out of your thoughts with ease, and his eyes meet yours in the low light. "what's wrong?"

you saw today's date. some birthdays never leave you, and that's true of the person who hurt you. the person you only told vernon about a few months ago in full, although he knew of the person's existence before then. you remember what that person said to you, too. that you didn't need anyone else aside from them...

"nothing," you say, and it's a half-lie. it'll bother you a little more, but you don't want to have this talk now. not when you're already starting to drift off, safe in his presence. vernon's good at protecting you from ugly feelings that settle into your bones like an unwanted guest. "we'll talk later, honey."

he gives you a uncertain look. "you only call me honey when you're upset."

(it's a mutual thing: he calls you either by your name or a casual dude any other time, and baby and babe and love of my life whenever he's trying to avoid a topic temporarily. the two of you communicate: vernon's good at making you feel safe in that, too.)

"right," you say. "we'll talk in the morning... homie."

it earns a crackling snort from him, and he smiles that cute gummy smile as he hides his face for a moment. "ah, really... god, you're such a dork sometimes, i swear."

"a dork who landed you," you always remind him. yet when his eyes meet yours a moment later, you feel something warm in your chest that washes away that ugly feeling all too easily. you reach out, holding his face. "i think... i won."

"you won?"

"you love me," you say. "my friends love me... i'm loved," you say quietly, and the feeling still feels a little foreign. you are loved, you repeat mentally for a moment: because they see you as you, not the broken mess you feel you are. "so i won."

vernon gets it soon enough, and he nods. "you won," he says quietly. "i'm glad you're here... homie."

you crack up, too, and he quietly laughs at his own little moment with you. his laugh and his smile always make you giggle, too, and he pulls you in to kiss you happily.

"i love you," he mumbles against your lips, "i love you, i love you, i love you--" and he keeps planting kisses against against and around your lips to punctuate every repeat of the phrase, before he draws back, satisfied after being struck with the need to be overly sappy. "alright?"

gone is that bitter feeling that once flashed through your veins and settled into your bones. all you feel now is love, soft and sweet, as you're so openly reminded that you're not alone. that the two of you shoulder these problems together. you won, you think, because you are alive and being loved and learning to love wholeheartedly again.

"yeah," you settle in to sleep, planning to keep to your promise of talking come morning. "i love you, too, you big sap."

#nonranghaes.thoughts #seventeen x reader #nonranghaes.svt #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen x you #svt imagine #svt x you #chwe vernon fluff #chwe vernon x reader #vernon x reader #vernon fluff #vernon angst #today is my abusers birthday and i hope he is choking rn :)#and i remembered today. that i am loved. that i am so loved.#i hope anyone tht can relate to this also feels loved bc hi i love u i dont care if im just a stranger #we're gonna keep moving forward together its ok. i'm holding ur hand. we're gonna keep going.#nonranghaes.vent

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skaifayaheda · 3 months

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The Handmaid's Tale S03e01: Night

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ameleah · 2 years

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@buggachat‘s beau fandom how we doin’ today

#my art #ml fanart #ml beau #bakery enemies au #buggachat has me in a chokehold and does not want to let go #this chapter destroyed me but cleaned my pores at the same time istg??#the last scene was *chef's kiss*#the emotions in his eyes #the fear and hope and realization mixed together #kelly have mercy plz #i'm betting 50/50 on whether or not i will sleep or wait for 4am in the morning to read the next part tht comes out #i couldnt focus at my capital j job today bc i kept thinking about this au wtf #anyways sry for rambling #take the fact that i picked up the tablet pen after what half a year as a major compliment i havent drawn in so long istg

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shibuiking · 1 month

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#this turned out really good somehow so im posting now instead of waiting like normal :x #oltyx #yenekh #twice dead king #something abt the way oltyx has that schoolboy esque crush kills me #tht kind of soft bashfulness ppl have where they think the other one is sooooooo cool #how i go to sleep at night knowing theyre together forever (very comfortably)#everyone is like omg the flayer king so scary and u meet him and hes hes a sickeningly in love teenager. it hurts my brain.#< wet sniffling. having a moment.#i didnt draw it coz the 'I WANT HIM' is funnier to me bt i wanted to have it like. pleading emoji will u be my boyfriend.#yenekh: i thought we already were i gave u that really nice piece of skin last month #we ate a guys intestines like in 101 dalmations bro #.....................anyway

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xdacted · 4 months

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The theory of goodbyes

Pairing: Reader x Pierre Gasly

Warnings: emotional cheating, angst, hurt/no comfort, reunions

Word Count: 2,544

Status: Completed

Pierre was terribly bored.

His head pounding with the music that blared over the speaker, struggling to breathe in the crowded mess of the gymnasium. Sweat beads along his hairline, and he collapses in a nearby seat, raising a hand to protect his eyes from the strobing lights. He tries to take in the room, silver balloons that float above a floral archway and his former schoolmates cluster around the dancefloor. Truly, he can’t decide what he regrets most coming to the reunion or coming without Charles for support. He invited Kika, but she was swallowed in the pack, lost to other girls pulling each other apart to know, “How are you?! Let’s get lunch!”

Pierre can’t fight an eye roll, downing the rest of the burning liquid that someone had offered him - they were never friends, but Pierre assumes that they must have been friendly enough as he had taken it with a grateful nod. Racing and karting pulled him away from school far too often to ever develop lasting relationships. There was no one like that except Antoine and well -

He shakes the thoughts from his head before they can even form.

He looks around him, staring back at the old gymnasium. He’d never really been forced to be in here, never forced to drag his feet across the polished wooden floors. The walls stand tall, banners hanging from the pins in the brick announcing years of their athletic excellence.

The school mascot is painted across the center of the walls, and Pierre doesn’t stop the feelings of pride that swell within him. His days are long gone but never forgotten. They live within him, hovering just beneath his skin, something akin to a different life. A life that was filled to the brim with freedom and carelessness. When he was able -

A cackle pulls him back to himself and he sits a little straighter. He blinks, the lights passing over his face. Pierre adjusts the thin chair below him, scooting closer to the road table with a squeak of protest. Setting his elbow on the cloth, he reaches down to adjust his shoe, tight around his ankles - he just wants to go home.

But before he can commit to pushing himself up from the lone table, he sees someone through the sea of people. Sunken in her chair, legs crossed before her, she sits with an uninterested expression. To Pierre, she is the most interesting person he’s seen all night. The light dances upon her face, and he can see the line of her cheekbones and the curve of her lips. Her hair curls away from her face, coils bouncing when she runs her head. In the darkness, he can see the glimmers of rings on her fingers as they drum mindlessly against the table.

Pierre can feel the air leaving his body, mouth going dry. He stares, burning a hole through the throng of dancers.

It can’t be. She couldn’t be -

He tries to blink, but when he opens his eyes once more, she’s gone. The small window of nostalgia collapses, filled by the bodies of strangers.

Pierre doesn’t feel himself standing, craning his neck over the crown. He steadies himself on the table, raising on the tops of his toes, an ache running up his calf. Silently, he adjusts the chair, raising a leg to rest upon it, fingers gripping the back before he stops himself.

What was he doing?

Foot dropping back to the floor, hands going limp at his sides, he can’t believe himself. He was about to make a fool of himself and to what? For a girl that probably doesn’t even remember him?

He flicks his empty cup. What kind of loser has he become?

Pierre was never reckless. Never this indulgent, cameras could be anywhere, everywhere. He shakes his head, he had Kika anyway. What was the point of reminiscing over a high school -

He sees her again.

Only this time, she sees him too. Her eyes fixated upon him, an unreadable look on her face. Something twists in his gut, heart pounding in his rings.

She is just as beautiful as he remembers.

He whispers her name, voice swallowed by the music.

It’s a secret, a declaration to the world, whispered to the timber of the gymnasium, to the steel of the basketball hoops. Before Pierre can stop himself, he’s walking. Parting through the sea of reality, ducking beneath hands, waving off conversation. With every step, he pulls himself under, below his skin, drifting back to the world long dead.

He stands before her.

A breathing memory. Looking up at him with her crooked smile, he can see the way that time has sculpted her clearer now. Carving her cheeks, her chin, hardening the lines of her eyes, darkening the color of her hair.

Beautiful.

Absolutely beautiful.

“You got a haircut,” her words startled him, a shiver running down his spine.

“I did,” He swallows, trying to calm the pounding of his heart as it threatens to burst from his ribcage, “You - uh - your hair is different too.”

She lets out a soft chuckle, a hand coming up to hold at a strand of hair, “I did.”

Pierre opens his mouth to speak, but the words are trapped in his throat, too much he wants to tell her. Too much he needs to tell her. His hands busy himself with the ends of his blazer, picking at a loose thread.

A stutter on his lips, she grabs at his hand, stopping his fingers in their movement.

“Sorry…just, we wouldn't want to ruin your fancy jacket.”

He stares down at her hand. Rings prenup at him, and he catches sight of her class ring.

A Pierre’s class ring.

She pulls her hand back with a sharp breath, blinking rapidly, almost as if she’s been burned, “Sorry.”

Don’t go, he doesn’t say.

He shrugs instead.

Silence pool covers them, and he thinks, he doesn’t want this conversation to end. He doesn’t want to walk back to reality. He gently nudges her crossed legs with his show, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, “Do you - uh…”He turns to the overcrowded dance floors, “...wanna…?”

He offers her a hand, and she takes it. He sucks in a breath through clenched teeth, his heart leaping up his throat. He waits for her to slide her jacket off, pulling it over the fabric of her turtleneck.

As they walk, sidestepping pulled-out chairs and maneuvering the in-betweens of tables, they don't speak. They don’t look at one another. Just walking until they reach the edge of the crowd. He turns to her, and the song around them slows, it’s a mellow tune. Something about love and about forever, but Pierre couldn't care less.

“You know I’m a terrible dancer,” She groans, stepping towards him.

All Pierre can do is stifle a chuckle with the back of his hand. She sends him a glare with no real malice, a smile pulling at her lips, “What?”

She gently shoves him with her shoulder, “Is something funny to you, Jean-Jacques?”

Jean-Jacques. He hasn’t heard his middle name uttered in a long time. He hates the way it makes him sound like a round-bellied aristocrat, but he desperately wants to hear her call him that again. Because she’s the only one that can, he’s her ‘Jean-Jacques.’ And only Jean-Jacques.

He shakes his head with a shrug, “Nothing, nothing.”

They settle with each other, finding an open space behind strangers. They’re hidden in bodies, encased in the music that blares over them. Pierre puts a hand on her waist and takes her hand in his. She looks up at him, she is tentative to step closer, but she does. With her so close, her name sits upon his tongue. He hasn’t spoken it in years, the very sound of it painful.

He mutters it like a prayer

She hums, never breaking eye contact, lights dancing on her skin. Pierre has forgotten his headache, he’s forgotten his boredom, his readiness to leave. He never wants to leave this place. Not now. Not when she’s here. They’re both trapped, stuck between reality and what they want. He can see it, he can feel it. He can -

“How’ve you been?”

The question creates a painful space between them.

“Good,” He lies, “I’ve been good. You?”

She nods along, “I’ve been good too,” the tips of her ears begin to glow red, the way they do when she lies, “I’ve been great, actually.”

She turns away, staring into the distance, “You made it to Formula One.”

Pierre winces, her words burn.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Was it worth it?”

There's a waver in her voice, and it grows thick with emotion. Pierre closes his eyes with a sigh, leaning his head against the pole behind him. It was and it never will be. He has a career that he excels in, all the money he could ever want, and his parents couldn’t be prouder. But he’s - he’s always known that something was missing. A feeling. A light, something to keep him afloat.

“No,” He breathes.

She looks at him, her eyes wide and full of emotion. She doesn't look angry, she just looks sad.

“Did you ever go to med school?”

“Yeah.”

“Was it worth it?”

She pauses for a moment, taking her lip between her teeth, “I’m not sure.”

He can hear her unsaid sentence, the only thing stopping the onslaught of relief is the wave of shame he feels. He wants to be happy for her, he wants for her to have everything she ever dreamed of.

But with him.

He wanted her to have it with him.

He hates his selfishness. Hates that he hasn’t changed a bit since they were in school. Ready to ask her to give up her dreams to follow him around the world. Unable to understand why that would ever be an issue. Love could only justify so much.

Silence bubbles over them. They sway to the distant song that plays, and he holds her close. He worries he’s holding her too tight, but when he tries to pull away, the grip she has on the fabric of his shoulder tells no differently. So he presses her closer still, cheek lying on the crown of her head, her ear pressed against his chest. With them like this, in the walls of their old school, he can almost convince himself he’s sixteen again. He can almost convince himself that she -

“I’ve missed you,” She whispers, her words muttering into the fabric of his button-up shirt, and he nearly misses it.

Her words are almost swallowed by the noise around them. But Pierre hears, saving the words. He feels as if he’s floating, head high in the clouds of their youth. There’s nothing that can hurt them here, nothing they have to go back to.

Nothing is waiting for them outside this moment.

“I’ve missed you too.:

He hopes that she can hear everything he wants to say. Everything she should’ve said all those years ago when their youth could have torn through it all. Everything he should’ve said when he stood on her porch that night, cradling the box of his things she pushed into his chest with a curse of his name. Everything he should’ve said when she begged him not to go, to stay.

To stay with her.

With the regret heavy in his stomach, Pierre tightens his hold on her hand. He’ll hold her here with him now. He’ll keep them together, he won’t let anything pull them apart. He opens his mouth to say something. To tell her while they’re still in the clouds, while they’re still miles away. He’s gripping her hand in his, and he wants nothing more than to pull her closer. Time has been so cruel, it has stolen so much from them, so much life, but he’s here now. And so is she.

They’re here now.

“I -”

“Pierre!” Reality cuts between them, pulling him away. Reality pecks him on the cheek, snaking her hand on his bicep, “I was looking for you!”

Pierre can do nothing but fall apart, closing his eyes with a strained sigh. He can feel them fall back to Earth, the painful crash of time against them once more.

And he feels as if he’s lost her all over again.

“Who’s this?” Kika questions, a bright smile on her face, always kind.

When Pierre doesn’t speak, reeling from the pain of the space that’s wedged between them, she does, introducing herself as, “An old friend.”

Pierre almost laughs, under the weight of reality pressing against him, he can almost burst into tears. Friends. They are so much more than that, they always were, and he always wants them to be.

“Oh!” Kika jostles him, “Yes! Pierre has told me so much about you! I am so glad to finally meet you in person!” Kika’s laughter fills their shattered bubble and she begins to laugh alongside her, stale and empty.

Then, there’s a call of Kika’s name, it pierces the noise of the bass, having filled the dance floor with a pop song, lyrics melting into the background, “It was nice to meet you!”

“You too!”

They watch Kika walk away, with unreadable expressions on both their faces.

He starts, an explanation on his tongue, eyes wide and pleading, “It’s just-”

“I’m glad you found someone, Pierre,” She wrapped her arms around herself, fingered digging into the material of her sweater, a strange look on her face, “I’m happy for you.”

He is inclined to believe her.

“I really am, Pierre.”

His name sounds so cold as it falls from her lips, almost like he’s a stranger, shattering to the ground, he winces. Pierre reaches for her, wanting to feel the warmth around his hands once more, but he pulls away, averting her eyes.

He calls her name, begging for her to listen.

She is doing the right thing.

“You look good together,” Unshed tears brim in her eyes, eyebrows pinched together, a hand pressed against her cheek, “You - you look happy.”

She is saying the right thing, but that doesn’t change the way his heart pounds in his chest.

“I - I,” His words are stuck, lodged behind the lump of emotion. But Pierre isn’t strong enough to fight against reality, not when it presses against their chests

‘I’ll never love anyone the way I loved you, the way you loved me,’ Goes unsaid.

There would never be another her. Never another woman to make Pierre feel whole, never another hand against his to hold in the rain, never eyes to stare into, never another to waste days away with. He will never be sixteen again, and he will never have her again.

An ‘I love you’ nearly comes tumbling out, and the words burn against the roof of his mouth. He can do nothing but breathe, trying to ground himself against the burn of her gaze. She sees right through him, but he can’t hide. He doesn’t want to. She’s the only one he would ever let look straight through.

“Thank you,” Is all he says.

It sounds like goodbye.

“You’re welcome.”

And Pierre knows that it is.

____________________________________

A/N:This work has been cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. All are under the name XDACTED. Thank you for reading and feel free to request fics about any of the drivers <3

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ahavrn · 5 months

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Waiting fr th day more ppl acknowledge uzi is no longer a normal worker drone n starts developing animal behaviors of her own

#i mean - plz i need more of tht #i need N and Uzi having fun together n communicating in more ways than normal o #shes got wings n a tail now n i think it should have an effect on her psyche and more parts then just addons #sry this is coming from an animal based artist #murder drones #nuzi #enzi #uzi doorman #serial designation n #.txt #ok i mean it does have an effect on her psyche but like u get what i mean #animal instincts and behaviors AGGHF

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puppyeared · 19 days

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Ouhhhh friendship I love friendship……..

#I’m reading volumes 14-16 of the ouran manga OOUGHHH MY HEART #I love this weird little friend group so much its unreal #like u have this charming sweeps you off your feet prince but he’s actually a huge lovable idiot with a kind heart and his friends #who are all misfits that he reached out to and drew in because of his kindness and own weirdness like that shits TIGHT BRO #and the trauma part where he has some deep seated issues with love bc he thinks that itll break a family apart like with his mom #how his family isnt allowed to be together because his mom and dad fell in love and how he says he wants to build a big house #so that way one day everyone will get along as a family like. all he wants is not to lose everyone and the only way to do that is #by maintaining a certain order.. he both wants a complete family so bad and doesnt want anything to sour between anyone #so he assigns each of his friends a family role based on how he sees them and YEAH its mostly played for giggles and tamakis #already weird so its his way of showing theyre close to him but. god damn this boy has LAYERS #it also feels kinda meta towards how found family tends to get thrown around to assign characters as 'siblings' or family roles instead of #using it to describe characters who are close enough to be each others family. cuz tamakis doing that EXACT THING in a way tht #ties in with his character and i have to say its fascinating using that within the story itself and its completely plausible #theres a lot of things i can say about ouran that are good bad and questionable but. god i love it when characters are niceys to each other #i remember i really liked the mall episode bc kyoya and haruhi got to spend time together and their relationship isnt very close #but it was really nice to see their personalities bounce off each other. i think i also wouldve liked to see haruhi alone with kaoru #i also firmly believe all of the hosts are at least a little in love with haruhi and this can be anything like endearing romantic cuz like #who DOESNT love haruhi. kyoya i think would want to study her under a microscope like his fascination with her draws him in #but im fucking obsessed with whatever haruhi and tamaki have going on because YES hes obsessed with her YES he jumps at the chance to #put her in a cute costume but haruhi? she just fucking goes with it because she knows hes fun to be around even if hes a little wacky abt i #theyre all so. NNGGHHHH #ouran #ohshc #yapping

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odessastone · 6 months

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budgeting in the Symweaver household actually balances out perfectly because Satya is a meticulous shopper that follows strict lists and waits for sales and compares prices, and all the money she saves then goes to Niran's "the girls deserve a little treat" fund, where he buys them stuff like massages and salon days and a carton of vegan ice cream (2 spoons) 🍨

#overwatch #symmetra #lifeweaver #symweaver #picturing them going for a spa day and just having such a nice time together 😌#Satya loves getting her hair shampooed & scalp massaged bc it feels nice and it helps her relax #only thing is tht when Satya & Niran both go for that the spa workers have to clear their schedules for the day bc these bitches have HAIR #also thinking abt them getting matching nail polish when they get their nails done #when they step out of the place they are literally sparkling like cartoon characters lol #most gorgeous couple you've ever seen

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jorrated · 3 months

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I'm so tired of sonamy being ship teased in stuff

#for a while i had hope that since sonic boom was doing the whole sonamy thing #we wouldnt see anywhere else #and i was like great the fans of the ship can get their cake and i wont have to look at it awesome #but i was WRONG.#they still do shipbait in the twitter takeover and shit #besides the weird age gaps #since now people wanna pretend these characters are ageless #and besides how much i think sonic is aroace #they just dont fit together as a couple dear hod #even in shows like sonic x in which i guess sonic says he loves her THEY FONT HAVE ROMANTIC CHEMESTRY #like sonic boom had to completely change the chracters personatilies so tht would work (? questionable. its still bland)#at this point id even take sonadow being more shipbaited even if im not a big fan #aro sonic forever and above everything else <33

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bylertruther · 7 months

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@ that post since he is our will, i think it’d be funny if they properly showed us mike taking a glance at will’s butt next season. it’s genuinely hilarious noah acknowledged it so why not play into it lmfaoo

don't attack me for this bc i'm just parroting what they said, but i just think it's so interesting how they hid noah's arms and yet.... they also decided to put him in such "really, really tight pants".... so fascinating. quite the choice. i've always secretly upheld the silly hc that if will ever asked mike just casually if his pants make his butt look big that mike would get red and start stuttering with that nervous face he gets sometimes like um uh it's i i mean uh you uh?????? 404 error blue screen of death brain leaking out of his ears as it shifts into maximum overdrive trying to find a perfectly not insane response until lucas or dustin save him by answering in the most nonchalant normal way possible bc unlike mike they are not gay as hell. thank you for coming to my ted talk and i agree bc lord knows they need more lighthearted and gay moments but i will say that some blocking n acting choices as well as the wardrobe did feel like they leaned into it at least a little but anyway who said that 🙏

#asks #like. it just makes me laugh it really does #i went back n watched the clip like how tight do ur pants have to be tht someone else brings them up first 😭#i lob them i feel like charlie eduardo n noah were underrated together 🫶#unrelated but charlie brings noah out of his shell too n brings him into the conversation like the jonwill bond rly jumps out #hashtag famelie.... 🥺#byler #byler hc #i need this in My tags but u guys can look at it too. i guess. 😑

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meatexe · 1 month

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hey how do i make my cunt not be sore n swollen after like 48 hours of fucking i have to keep bouncin on tht thang or theyll put me down

#but seriously sdsds #me n my partner fuck pretty consistently the first two days were together but after tht i like . close up usndhd #how do i stop tht from happening its annoying!!!! this is my full time job im being put out of a job !!!!!

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jishyucks · 2 years

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fibs. ‣ cyj

‣ pairing: store neighbour!yeonjun x female!reader

‣ genre: sorta but not really f2l, beginning of the relationship type shi, ig you can say it's fluff

‣ wc: 1.4k (was supposed to be <1k oops)

‣ summary: In which Yeonjun has (quite obviously) taken a liking to you but you're not really sure if you reciprocate his feelings; alternatively, you're lying to yourself but you just don't know it yet

‣ warnings?: none I don't think, reader's lowkey 'mean' to yeonjun but this is what makes it cuter okok, yeonjun's not even hiding how he feels (dude he's flirting)

‣ an (pt.1): shoulda used the time I spent writing this for school but that's a future me problem,,, just needed to escape it a bit |_・) so it may or may not be my best. anyways enjoy!

“Y/N, your boyfriend is here again.”

Sending a death glare toward Yeri sends her back to folding the clothes that recent customers had just messed up. She knows damn well that said ‘boy’ isn’t your ‘boyfriend’, nor do you want him to be. If anything he wasn’t even a friend, he was more of an acquaintance.

“Hi, Y/N!” Yeonjun waddles up to you, smiling a bit too innocently for your liking. He’s waving as if he’s more than a few yards away from you, “Good afternoon. I hope your day is going well.”

“Yeonjun,” you replied. You start rocking forth on the balls of your feet, feeling ache being to spread across them, “It’s been eh. How about yours?”

“Great! Now that I get to see you!” Yeonjun’s cheekbones hike up high on his face, eyes nearly disappearing.

You want to gag.

“I brought you some snacks,” he places a neatly tied bag onto the register counter, “I thought that maybe you’d be hungry… you’ve been working since one, right?” He starts to untie the bag, slipping out the selection of food he used his employee discount on.

You nod, “Yeah. I want to leave.”

Yeonjun pushes the food towards you and gestures, “Eat.” “I can’t, I’m not on break,” you say dryly, “What are you doing here?”

Yeonjun shrugs, “I’m on my break. I wanted to bring you food.” He’s not at all bothered by the way you were speaking to him, understanding that you were on hour six of your eight-hour shift and you probably haven’t eaten anything.

“Yeah he wanted to bring you food,” Yeri comments from the side, “Be nice.”

“Thank you,” you sighed. There’s no way you were showing that you were actually grateful for the boy and his random act of kindness, “I guess.”

You briefly look up at Yeonjun and remember the first time he pranced into the store on a gloomy May afternoon. He was sent to the store, the very store you worked at, in search of a mask because his dumbass forgot to bring one (and for some reason his workplace didn’t have its own box). You were the one stationed at the cash register, your other coworkers were working on new packages at the back.

“Hello,” he greeted. You can easily recall the way Yeonjun held a rather irritating smirk on his face, one that made you swoon and cringe altogether.

“If you’re looking for something for your girlfriend,” you mutter, “I suggest looking at the new arrivals.”

Yeonjun sighs, “I’m not here for my non-existent girlfriend. I was wondering if you guys had any extra masks.” Without another word, you picked one up from under the register counter and hold it out to him. “Thank you, you’re an angel.”

And ever since that very brief, and rather insignificant interaction, Yeonjun’s found himself gravitating towards your store despite the fact he really doesn’t have any business being in there. Besides you, of course.

It was funny. Funny because you can’t recollect any memory of you showing any interest in Yeonjun—because you don’t—yet he continues shuffling into the store whenever you have a shift. Each day, Yeonjun would make up some ridiculous reason as to why he’s decided to waste part of his short break at your store, but since he was his own person, there was really nothing you could do to send him off.

“I was sent here to ask if you guys had a step stool,” was one of his reasons. Yeonjun craned his neck over the cash counter as he tried to see if you somehow had hidden the small ladder behind it.

You looked him up and down, brows furrowing, “Aren’t you like six feet tall? I don’t think you need a ladder.”

“I’m five feet eleven, so yes I need a ladder,” he quipped.

You rolled your eyes and muttered a ‘whatever you say’ before turning to the back of the store where the store’s ladder was kept.

It had been like this for the past few months, and although you’ve never went out of your way to reciprocate his actions, Yeonjun continued and still continues to put effort in this friendship (or whatever he’s chosen to consider it).

“You’re very very welcome,” he grins. You don’t realize yourself, but you hold back a smile, though Yeonjun sees this. Not entirely, but he can see the way one corner of your mouth twitches, “Anyways, my break is almost up. I’ll see you around.”

And at that, he’s gone. Just like you wanted.

“That guy is down bad for you,” Yeri comments the moment Yeonjun’s out of sight, “It’s so cute watching it all go down.” Yeri half-assedly sweeps the floor, sending you suspicious looks. “So?” you say, “I’m not interested in him.”

Yeri starts laughing out loud. She’s lucky there are no customers shopping because you already know they’d think she was crazy, “Liar. I can see that you pretty much are just by the way you consistently shift when he’s here. You’re restless around him. That says a lot.”

You scoff, “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“‘That doesn’t mean anything’ my ass,” Yeri lets out one single ‘ha,’ and continues, “Whatever you say, girl. Whatever you say.”

Before you’re able to reply, a group of teenage girls enter the store, pulling you and Yeri back into customer service mode.

At the end of your shift, long forgetting the conversation with Yeri, you leave the store with the mental images of your house and your dinner and your bed and your very soft pillow and…

“Y/N!”

Jumping, your head shoots towards whoever had called you, eyes wide and heart pumping. “Yeonjun, for fuck’s sake!” You notice Yeonjun’s changed out of the attire you usually see him in, which was his work uniform. He’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and black jeans. It was basic, but even you can admit that he looks… good?

“Sorry,” he laughs, “I thought you would see me but you seemed distracted.” Yeonjun picks up his pace to walk beside you. You notice that two of your steps equal one of his.

“Just tired,” You reply, shrugging, “I just want to go home.” You can already see the mall entrance from where you both were and you never wanted to run like hell towards it until now. You really did want to go home. “Do you want a ride?” he offers, “I know you bus home.”

“Are you a stalker?” you stop and eye him down, “Because then I’ll have to refuse.”

“I see you waiting at the bus stop when I drive home,” he replies quietly, “You don’t know how many times I wanted to stop and ask you if you wanted a ride but right before I get to you, the bus pulls up and you get on.” You don’t reply and Yeonjun’s unsure if what he said was a bit too much or not. He changes the subject, “How was the food I gave you?”

“It was good,” you say, “Cold, but it was good. It wasn’t your fault, though.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” By now, you and Yeonjun have reached the door. He holds it open for you and you slip out before him. Then you hold the door open for him, “So, do you want a ride?”

You don’t reply and just think about the offer. Could you trust Yeonjun? What if he’s out to get you?

“I’m not taking no for an answer,” he says quietly, “It’s night and it’ll make me feel better if you said yes.” Yeonjun pushes his lips to one side of his face as he gazes down at you.

You’re confused.

“I don’t get it.” You say out loud. You look around and notice that the pavement is slightly wet from what you believe was rain. The wetness of the car windows said it all—that and the moisture in the night air.

“Get what?” Yeonjun’s head tilts slightly to the side.

You cross your arms and shift your weight towards one leg, “I’m… not the nicest to you. But you’re here and you’re offering me a ride despite all that. Not to mention you bringing food that without even being asked… I just don’t get it.”

Yeonjun’s eyes fall to his feet, “It’s nothing, really.” He’s not sure whether it would be appropriate to tell that he likes you. That he’s taken a liking to you even though you both haven’t really gotten to know each other, “It’s just how I am.”

The hope in Yeonjun’s eyes goes unnoticed by you, “Well in that case, I’ll accept that ride.”

“Really?” Yeonjun’s face lights up, “You trust me?”

You nodded, “Yeah.”

A car whizzes by, sending gusts of wind to blow past the both of you.

“I guess I do.”

°•. ✿ .•°

an (pt.2): all the lies are italicized

#aka an interpretation of me being in denial tht yeonjun is actually a bias wrecker #choi yeonjun #yeonjun #txt #tomorrow x together #yeonjun x reader #yeonjung fluff #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun blurbs #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt fluff #txt blurbs #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #my writings #choi yeonjun x reader

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