#lee chan drabble | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sohnric · 2 months

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distraction, a fatal attraction – l. chan

pairing: lee chan x fem! reader

genre: strangers to lovers au, college au, fluff. a weird kind of situationship between yn and dino, drunk dino because svt can't stop mentioning his excessive drinking which is so university student of him and i headcanon him as my drinking buddy.

warnings: drinking, swearing, mentions of throwing up, smoking

word count: 7k

a/n: started writing this literally last may. it's now february and i finally finished it after rewriting it like three times... anyways idk how many more svt fics i'll post in the future but i had to get this out in the open lmaoo. as always thank u beloved @csenke for beta reading despite not even being a svt stan <3

You and Lee Chan seem to have the same clubbing tendencies. That being: drinking a little too much at times and getting a little too touchy when doing so. (Or - you and Lee Chan have kissed a concerning amout of times before he finally asks for permisson.)

“Can I kiss you?” Chan asks you one March evening and you don’t know why exactly you find yourself so surprised.

By default, it’s only natural for the boy to ask– the two of you aren’t dating, not even close to that, you’d say– and while you wouldn’t really mind if he kissed you without giving you a warning and swooped you off your feet on the stairs leading up to your dormitory building (for you found yourself a little too lightheaded and on the edge of your seat whenever he’s around lately, the fuzzy feeling in your stomach only further proving your assumptions– you have a silly, little crush on the male), you must admit that him asking for permission is quite nice. Surprising, but nice.

One might think you’re surprised because there was nothing that could lead you to this scenario– one might think you and Lee Chan were nothing but friends, not even close ones, per se (you just have a group of mutual friends that somehow always brought you two together when either one of you got excluded out of their conversations, ending up as each other’s, although pleasant, last resort). One might even think the two of you are hanging out alone for the first time together, which isn’t that far away from the truth in the first place, but still, is a blatant lie. What’s so surprising about the question to you, then?

The fact that this isn’t the first time you and Lee Chan would be kissing, and the sheer fact leaves you wondering if he’s forgotten, or if he never really remembered in the first place.

You and Chan have kissed…. an embarrassing amount of times for people that aren’t dating, or anywhere close to the said establishment. The circumstances of said kisses differ from time to time, and while you thought that they were meaningless at first, you must admit that as time went by, you selfishly and almost a little pathetically looked forward to each and every time where a similar situation might occur and his lips would end up on yours again.

The first time you and Chan kissed was also the first time you two met. It’s a strange sentence to use when describing a story about your first kiss with someone that you’re currently (hopefully) on a date with, but it’s the one you have to use, because it’s true.

The group you walked into the club with on the first day of orientation during your freshman year of college consisted of all your upperclassmen friends– the girls you had met in high school and didn’t fail to keep in contact with: Lee Chaeryeong, Kim Minjeong and Huh Yunjin. You would trust these three girls with your whole entire life, and so when they had told you that they could show you around the campus and let you in on all the secrets you only learn with months of attending college, you felt like you just won the lottery.

After the cheerful senior Choi Soobin walked your humongous group through the campus and showed all of your classmates the fundamental parts of the college building (the gym, the labs and most importantly, the cafeteria), he invited you all to the open semester party in the club just a few minutes away from the campus. And yes, the party was originally supposed to be mainly for the freshmen, but as soon as you texted your friends to let them know about your whereabouts, they announced to you that there is no way you were going back to your dorm room so quickly– the whole campus was supposed to be on that party, and that’s exactly why you were forced to stay.

“So, how do you like it here so far?” Chaeryeong asks you as you start swinging your hips to the rhythm of the music, the DJ surprisingly not as bad as you expected him to be from the reviews you heard from the girls when standing in the queue leading towards the club.

“The music isn’t as bad as you said it will be,” you yell over the music into your friend’s ear, having her roll her eyes and shake her head at you in disbelief.

“I meant the campus, not the club, you silly goose,” she clarifies, making you gasp at the sentence.

“Oh!” you laugh. “Well, I’m less frightened, that’s for sure.”

“That’s gonna come back to you once the exam season starts,” Chaeryeong notes, snickering. The comment is slightly terrifying– therefore you choose to ignore it and stick it somewhere to the back of your brain to come back to when the time is right and your anxiety is no longer a far-away thing, but a very present and real issue.

“Ah! I see Mingyu there!” she suddenly screams, pointing somewhere behind you. “I’m gonna go talk to him, can you try finding our table and going back to Minjeong and Yunjin?”

“I’ll be fine,” you nodded, trying to believe the sentence just as much as you were trying to convince your friend of it. The place was filled with people, and although you didn’t feel particularly in danger, you were getting a little scared of getting walked over to death in the wave of the drunk upperclassmen enjoying themselves in the club.

Feet dragging you through the crowd painfully slowly, you try hard to find your table on the sides of the club. Your eyes never really had a 20/20 vision, but the neon lighting of the club and the glass of Martini you’d had before stepping to the dance floor with Chaeryeong really didn’t help you in seeing things clearly. No matter how hard you try, you can’t find your two other friends anywhere, and if you are being completely honest, you’re almost certain the table you previously sat at with your group was now occupied with someone completely else– meaning that your dear friends either left to the dancefloor, or left the club completely (which you doubted, but the possibilities were never really 0).

And so with that, you drag yourself towards the bar. You think that was a better option to choose in this situation– since you thought that going out for some fresh air is just going to get you kidnapped if you went there alone– and you also figured that you’d be easier to find by your lost friends if you were somewhere out in the open instead of in the corners of the humid room. Ordering yourself another Martini to pass the time, you drink the beverage in slow sips before you feel the presence of someone on the bar stool next to you.

You look up at the stranger beside you, noticing a boy around your age sending you a shy, yet charming look. “Do you mind if I sit here?” he asks.

“Not really,” you answer, watching as the boy nods, his shoulders relaxing as he orders himself a drink.

“Are you here alone?” he asks as he looks back at you again, face tugging into a panicked expression when he realizes the implication his words may hold. “I’m not asking in a creepy way, or anything, it’s just- I’m a freshman and I lost the people I came here with, so I’m kind of alone here as well…” he quickly explains, eyes big and honest, “you just looked like you could use some company,” he explains, making an endeared smile flash over your features.

Shaking your head at his tangent, you wave him off with your hand. “Don’t worry, I got it,” you laugh, “and the same as you, actually. I came here with my friends, but they disappeared somewhere, so I just sat here and figured they’ll find me eventually.”

“Great minds think alike,” the boy laughs, holding up his glass before taking another sip, “well, until that happens, I guess we can hang out, can’t we? My name’s Chan.”

“Y/N,” you introduce yourself, “it’s nice meeting you, Chan.”

The two of you talk about everything and anything: where he comes from, where you come from, which dorm building you’re staying at, which dorm building he’s staying at, your major (literature) and his major (dance), your friends and his friends– and with the increasing amount of information you get out of him, the pull of gravity sends you more and more towards the boy. Chan is charming, talkative and fun. You find yourself attracted to him each time he cracks a joke or teases you about your choice of your favorite movie (‘This is the first time I’ve heard anyone say The gods must be crazy is their favorite movie!’), and that’s exactly why you don’t find it in you to say no when he asks if he could buy you a drink.

One drink turns into two– three, four, eventually even five– and you progressively start to forget all about your lost friends as you ask Chan to show you what being a dance major is all about and invite him to the dancefloor, swinging your hips back and forth to the rhythm.

You don’t know if they teach this type of choreography in dance school, but as the songs change from more upbeat to less energetic and more sensual, you find yourself a little too enchanted with the way Chan’s features soften under the neon pinks and purples, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck and stepping closer to him. His arm ends up on your lower back– dangerously close to your bottom, which you aren’t that opposed to anyway– and when his nose brushes against the shell of your ear in the middle of one of the songs to talk to you, you can’t help but press yourself against him closer.

“You’re kind of good at this, for a literature major,” he hums, his voice making shivers run down your spine.

And sure, it could’ve been just the alcohol levels in your blood that made you so dangerously close to him, but as you study his features– although a little hazily, but still fully taking in the sharp angles of his jaw and the sparkles in his eyes– you don’t have it in you to pull away when the boy leans in and kisses you, lips enchanting you the same way his moves have.

His kiss is heated and sensual, the one that makes your knees buckle and your mind go on overdrive, creating all sorts of fantasies in your delirious brain, and you must admit you don’t mind it when his hands slip further down to grope your butt, the two of you still lazily moving to the rhythm of the song in the background. The sound is coming in a little muffled to your ears as you let yourself fully indulge in the moment– it’s not every day you make out with an extremely attractive guy in the club– before your oxygen runs out and you have to pull away from him, instead studying Chan’s swollen lips from up close. They are inviting you for more, especially as his eyes open and look at you all blown-out and hazy, but you figure that he can wait. You have to catch your breath first and get yourself together– if you don't want to come completely undone in the middle of the crowded dance floor, that is.

You could honestly stare into his face forever, if you wanted to– except, you don’t have the chance as a loud voice from behind you calls: “Y/N! There you are!”

Annoyed thoughts fill your brain the very second you hear Minjeong from behind your back– where were they for the last hour? Of course they had to find you when the night was finally getting good– but you turn towards her nonetheless, showing her an innocent smile. You notice the girl is accompanied by the rest of your girl clover, alongside a tall guy that shows your companion a mischievous grin. “So I see you and Chan have already met and we don’t have to introduce you to each other anymore,” he says.

The sentence has you nervously clear your throat and take a step away from Chan. The boy ironically heaves out a: “Mingyu! How nice to see you again, after an hour.”

“Don’t pretend you weren’t having fun.”

Feeling the atmosphere grow awkward, you quickly look at your friends, smiling tightly to try and save the situation (while also acting as if you didn’t just finish making out with their friend’s friend). “Where did you all go anyway?”

“Oh, we met Seungkwan and Vernon, so we decided to sit together, and then Chae came with Mingyu after some time, and that’s when we realized we were each missing a person… so here we are,” Minjeong clarifies, having you nod.

In conclusion, this is the story of how you met Lee Chan. What was supposed to be a one-night thing at a club for you, never really expecting to see the boy ever again (except from accidental meetings on the campus that could very well be played off as neither of you remembering), turned into a whole another situation as the two of you now shared a surprisingly tightly-knit friend group.

You never spoke about the kiss again. Or much at all, really.

Kind of disappointed with the fact, but still kind of okay with the situation, you found yourself falling into rhythm with the newly found world at university. You’d gotten used to the all-nighters, the weird partying in the middle of the week on a school night, to the hookup culture you’ve never really found yourself fitting in with, and with the life that comes to you when living in a dormitory. All of these somehow had the presence of Lee Chan included, though, as you learned on another Wednesday night (those are the designated bar runs when you’re friends with Chwe Vernon and Boo Seungkwan– since their Thursdays are free and they can get as drunk as they want without fearing being hungover in class), much to your surprise, you and the charismatic boy have the same clubbing tendencies.

That being: drinking a little too much at times and getting a little too touchy when doing so.

It doesn’t help that the both of you were light-weights– or at least that’s what you’ve been told.

You two don’t talk to each other much before getting a few drinks in, since you’re a little shy when it comes to the charming, but endearing boy. What his reasoning for the seeming lack of interest in you when sober is, you’re not really sure– but as the night usually goes, you bet with Vernon on who can drink more tequila shots before their gag reflex hits, and sooner or later, you find yourself drunk at the bar.

Once your otherwise stoic friend feels that it’s too much for him to handle and trails to the toilets (accompanied by a sulking Sungkwan complaining that ‘He always does this, ruining the night for everyone!’), you allow yourself to get back to the dance floor. Sounds like a good idea in theory, but is a bad idea in practice– somewhere along the way, you start to feel too dizzy in the heat of the crowd, the lightheadedness making you feel sick. Your figure is quickly dragged outside by a person you didn’t notice has been keeping their eyes on you, and only when you finally slip to the floor and sit on the pavement in front of the crowded bar, you recognise the guardian angel staring down at you with hazy eyes

“You looked like you were going to faint over there,” Chan hums, a perky expression playing with his face. There’s a boyish grin spread over his lips as he stares at your disheveled composure, the two of you coming into a weird sense of déja vu you’re convinced only a few shots of tequila can bring you into on a Wednesday night.

“Oh, I was going to,” you nod, watching as the boy settles next to you on the ground. The place around you is buzzing in true college fashion– people smoking, drinking off-the-counter alcohol straight from the bottle they got at the corner shop down the street because it’s cheaper than the shots in the club, people meeting and talking about their majors and where they’re from, making new connections.

“Thank god I was there to rescue you, then,” Chan chuckles, shoving you with his elbow.

“Yeah, my guardian angel,” you hum dreamily, giggling at the ridiculousness of your comment.

“Saw Vernon running off with Seungkwan tailing him,” he nods, “now that’s not a guardian angel.”

“That’s a guardian devil for sure,” you hum, pursing your lips. “Wouldn’t want to have Seungkwan as my caretaker. He complains too much.”

“They argue like a married couple,” Chan snickers.

“It’s the curse of being roommates. After a certain amount of time, you start to view each other like you’re married,” you hum, nodding to yourself.

“Do you consider Minjeong to be your wife?”

“No,” you sigh, shrugging, “she’s too immature to be my wife. I think of her more like my child, actually.”

“Well, looking at you right now, you don’t seem to be the more mature one out of the duo,” he pokes a finger to your side, making you jolt away at the contact. Furrowing your brows at him, clearly a little offended, you huff at him.

“The roles change when I drink. That’s how marriage works,” you say, closing your eyes and pressing your lips together, nodding, fully pleased with yourself.

Chan laughs at you. “I thought you said she was more like your child?”

“Then stop thinking, Chan.”

“You were the one who said it!” he points out, shaking his head in disbelief. You’re not sure to what extent you can blame this on the effect of alcohol– what can you say. Sometimes you get too tied up in your own lies.

“Oh,” you snicker, “right.”

“Dummy,” he teases, flicking the side of your thigh, making your blood boil with frustration.

“Who are you calling dummy?” you argue, having a perfect comeback to snap back at the boy. “Weren’t you the one coming to the wrong class for 2 weeks?”

Chan’s whole composure crumbles, a serious look tinted with hints of shame overtaking his previously grinning face. “Who told you that?”

“Not relevant,” you shrug. You find that it’s the best to keep the identity of the mole confidential. (It was Mingyu.)

“Was it Seungkwan?”

“No.”

“So it was.”

Sometimes you wonder just how clueless Lee Chan really is. Although you don’t think he’s slow, you must admit that he does have his moments that keep you wondering just how he can operate in the world without being used or manipulated on a daily basis. Is anyone keeping an eye on him? What if he accidentally joins a cult one day?

“Well, whoever told me wasn’t the one going to a completely different class for 2 weeks straight, so–”

“Look, it’s not my fault they make the schedule so difficult to read! The classes were overlapping on the thing, and I didn’t know which one applied to me, so I just assumed I could choose,” this has you laughing out loud at the boy, “and so I just chose one. I didn’t know those were electives. I didn’t even sign up for any electives! Can you believe that? We are supposed to have electives?”

He looks so endearing as he speaks, laughing to himself and gesturing with his arms. There’s a sense of fondness pooling in your stomach as you reach over and plant a soft, quick peck to his lips. The male seems to be caught off-guard as he stops in his tracks, not a single word coming out of his lips after your action– and truth be told, although you’re kind of glad for the silence, the thought of scaring him away makes you a little anxious. When you look at him from the side, though, the boy is grinning.

Scattering to your feet, you wobbly waddle back into the humid building. You don’t think either of you could continue on with the conversation after your actions, and so you figure the best way to go around this is to leave. “Well, I’ll see you on the dance floor, Channie.”

The third time you manage to lock your lips with his is no different. It’s January now, though, and Seungkwan decided to host his birthday in one of the houses you can rent on the beach. It isn't as fun as it would've been in summer and you could go for a swim, but let’s be realistic– you'd never say no to a good birthday celebration.

There’s havoc erupting all around you as your friend group sings the birthday song to Seungkwan. You all had something to drink prior to the cake ceremony, since some of you came sooner than the others and you figured that you have to wait for everyone with the cake, and so the singing now resembles a mating call of five dolphins more than the casual, harmonic birthday song.

Seungkwan is sitting at the table, the rest of you gathered around him– some with glasses in their hands, some recording the commotion with their phones– and when the song is over and the birthday boy made his wish, he blows out the candles on the cake. Clapping resonates through the little kitchen, everyone ready for the cake, when Chan pushes the older one’s face straight into the icing.

It only takes Seungkwan half a second before he starts chasing the little devil around the beach house. The younger one is laughing at his own antics– which you must admit, although a little childish, you find to be quite endearing– and the older one curses at him with the most colorful vocabulary you’ve ever heard him say out loud. Not even Lee Chan’s own mother has ever scolded him in a way Boo Seungkwan is able to.

“Do you think Seungkwan would mind if I start cutting the cake without him?” Minjeong asks as she gets out a large knife– she looks a little threatening, you must say– which has you shrugging.

“I think he’s preoccupied right now,” you say.

“Yeah, but I’ve waited for this cake for over two hours,” she grunts, “so if he doesn’t want to cut it, I’ll do it for him,” she shrugs to herself and proceeds with her intentions.

Minjeong cuts straight through the face imprint of Boo Seungkwan in his own cake, slicing the red velvet into equal parts to put on the paper plates Vernon found somewhere in the back cupboards of the kitchen. “Do you want some?”

“In a minute,” you laugh, shaking your head at your roommate, “I’ll go get them before they kill each other. I think the cake is enough to make truce fall over this war.”

“Stay safe out there,” Chaeryeong hums, nodding as she takes a paper plate and puts a chunky slice of the cake on, taking a fork into her hand and tasting the icing. “It’s surprisingly good even with Seungkwan’s skin cells in it.”

Minjeong slaps the other girl’s back, gritting her teeth. “Of course it’s good! I baked that shit for 2 hours and Y/N wouldn’t help, because she didn’t want to ruin it–”

(You just didn’t feel like baking. You don’t want to have another fight with your roommate about it, though, and that’s another excuse to leave the kitchen and go find Chan with his murderer.)

Peering your eyes around the whole beach house, you fail to find Seungkwan anywhere. Assuming you two accidentally missed each other and he’s back reunited with his cake, your legs automatically lead you on the patio, where you find Chan resting against the railway. He is wearing a leather jacket, his hair now a little longer than when you first met him in September, and when the noise of the back door opening lands into his ears, he makes a turn and watches you cross the space between you, all while eyeing your naked legs.

You contemplated if wearing a mini skirt in the middle of January was a good idea, but the satisfaction running through your veins at his hungry, yet collected eyes make it all worth it.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asks. You shake your head in answer, but he pays it no attention as he takes off his jacket and puts it around your shoulders, the smell of his cologne filling your nose like a blissful drug. You’ve always liked attention, but when it comes to Lee Chan, you are twice as satisfied when he pays you just a mere glance.

“Not anymore,” you hum, smiling to yourself. “Seungkwan gave up on murdering you?”

“I think it was more of a health concern for him. He was breathing so heavily after a few minutes of running that I thought he was going to suffocate,” Chan snickers, making you laugh.

“I’d sleep with one eye open tonight anyway,” you peep, “just in case.”

“Oh, definitely,” he nods, grinning. “I won’t even take any drinks from him in case he poisons them. Better be safe than sorry.”

He takes out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, lights up one for himself and offers you one as well. Even though you always promise yourself you’re quitting and that smoking is a bad habit you should overcome, you eagerly nod and watch him with half-lidded eyes as he lights it for you, one hand close to your face shielding the lighter from the chilly breeze, just like every time. You haven't had that much to drink yet, but the effect of nicotine always makes your head spin when the smoke fills your lungs. Truth be said, though, you are afraid that the proximity of your friend doesn’t help much with the weakness of your knees either.

“Come inside, you’re gonna catch a cold,” he mumbles when the both of you are done smoking, hands gripping the sides of his open jacket on your body, tugging you towards him just the slightest amount.

Like another bad habit the both of you have to break, he seems to pause for a second, as if questioning himself one more time before he goes for it and places a short peck to your lips, leading you to the beach house again, now flushed and internally squealing.

The fourth time, it happens on his own birthday party.

It’s too late in the semester for any of you to experience a big party, the exam season being just around the corner. You still managed to gather and celebrate nonetheless– the boys letting you into their dorm building, your little friend group fitting inside of the communal kitchen on the end of the hall. People passing by look at you with half concerned, half annoyed faces at the commotion– which is understandable, nobody wants ruckus just down the hall when they’re supposed to be working on the last-minute assignments– but you don’t mind it much, telling yourself it’s not your problem in the first place and you’re allowed to have a bit of fun once in a while, as long as you’re not the one being wronged in the moment.

A bottle of champagne is taken out of the fridge by the hands of the birthday boy, the commotion around you happily cheering and clapping (only Chaeryeong hides away from the pointed tip of the bottle, knowing all too well that Chan is not to be trusted with things that can explode), and while Mingyu encourages the boy to pop the champagne open out of the window, you all realize that the action is indeed, not possible.

“Don’t tell me you got the one with the lid that screws on!” Seungkwan turns around to scream into Vernon’s face, having the poor man shrug to himself.

“You can’t really tell in the store when the seal is on–”

“Then you should’ve double checked–” the nagging would go on further if it wasn’t for the last bits of common sense from the birthday boy himself (that Seungkwan would protect with everything in him, making sure their youngest has the best birthday ever, but would never admit to it outloud), as he just unscrews the lid and flicks it out of the opened window instead, earning himself a couple of cheers and claps from the rest of the group.

The bottle gets passed around the circle, each of you chugging the sparkly alcohol straight from it– because pouring the drinks would take too much effort, and also, there weren't even enough glasses for everyone to pour the beverage into anyway.

The tallest one out of the gathering takes a cake out of the overstuffed fridge, lighting a singular candle in the middle and holding it up in front of the birthday boy’s face. There are sparkles in Chan’s eyes despite the poor condition of the cake– it’s one of those you get discounted in the dollar store, one of those that don’t even have candles on them and you have to get them yourself (which is exactly why Chan’s cake only has a singular, yellow candle in the middle)– and you find yourself admiring the sheer joy and appreciation in his orbs with fondness in your heart.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you–”

“Happy birthday, dear Channie!” Seungkwan’s vocal abilities shine through in the heartfelt song, the dramaticness of your whole group never denying itself as all of them make sure to sing to Chan with as much theatrical over-exaggeration as they can. Chan watches the flame with an inkling in his eye you can’t quite place. He looks adorable, you think.

You watch from behind as he blows out the candle. Something inside of you beams at the sight of your friend growing older– the fact that you’re here, celebrating with him moving something in you. You don’t often like it when people get older, but you think birthday celebrations make the sentiment worth it. In a moment of particular fondness, you hug the boy from the back– where you’ve been standing, considering the crammed nature of the kitchen– and whisper a giddy ‘Happy birthday!’ into his ear.

The male turns his head to you, a grin settling on his lips as he scans your face from up close. He looks at you with a look that you can’t really read, but makes you all warm from the inside. It’s different to the way he usually looks at you, and you only decipher it when he quickly leans towards your face and presses a peck to your lips. Only then it starts to all make sense.

He does it in front of everybody, the rest of your friends whistling at the action. Your heart leaps a little as you wrestle Chan off with a laugh, trying hard to keep the unseriousness of it all. If you can keep lying to your friends about the way you feel towards the male, maybe you’ll even manage to convince yourself.

The cake is taken away from his grasp and placed onto the table, ready to be served. You keep a calculated distance away from him, but that still doesn’t keep you from watching the boy from afar. There’s a certain haziness in his eyes when you stare at him from across the room and an aftertaste of vodka on your tongue when you lick it off your lips.

The fifth time, it happens when you gather to celebrate passing your exams.

College kids have only one way of celebrating the joys of life (as well as only one way of dealing with sorrows), and that is– you guessed it– alcohol. The whole friend group gathered in the common kitchen of the boy’s dormitories again, soju bottles ringing against each other as you cheered and drowned in the taste of the liquor. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t watching Chan the whole time, the endearing twinkles in his eyes making you foolishly drink more and more, a weird desire in you just begging to be drowned out, since you couldn’t do anything about it.

Once the night was over and the bottles were all emptied, the boys decided to walk you back to your dorm building.

“Gyu, it’s literally a 10 minute walk across the campus. What could possibly happen on the way there?” Minjeong laughed, but the commotion followed you outside nonetheless.

“It’s dark outside!” Mingyu insisted. “You never know what could happen. I don’t want the responsibility of your dead bodies on my hands.”

“Chaeryeong is feral enough to fight off any creeps alone, you don’t have to worry about us,” Minjeong joked, but the boys followed you outside nonetheless, grabbing their coats and escaping the warmth of their dorms.

You find yourself trailing behind the group, the essence of soju lulling you to a peaceful slumber that you perform despite still being on the go, your brain coated with the incoherent buzz. Lee Chan finds his stance next to you, cautiously watching over your step as you shuffle across the sidewalk, a gentle voice coaxing you awake.

“Got any plans for the winter break?” he asks.

“Probably just going to stay home with my parents for a bit,” you muse, shrugging. “Have lots of naps… I need to recharge. This semester was too hectic.”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me that,” Chan admits, chuckling at your shared despair.

Kicking the pebbles under your feet, you watch as the male indulges in a little game of football with you, passing the chosen rock back to you each time you kick it too far. The air is crisp and you sniffle a little from the cold every once in a while, but every time you catch the playful twinkle in Chan’s eyes when the pebble hits the side of your shoe again, you feel a bit of warmth engulfing you from the inside.

“I think this whole thing would be far less enjoyable if it wasn’t for you guys,” Chan admits, licking his lips. He’s right– it’s always better to have someone to rely on in university. You can’t imagine going to school and not having a familiar face to fall back to any time you feel lonely. It’s easier when you know all the insider tips from your older upperclassmen friends– when you have a default friend group you fit into without actually attempting to make any new friends yourself. Suddenly, you’re awfully thankful for everyone.

“Yeah. Although they did turn me into an alcoholic, it seems,” you chuckle, earning yourself an amused giggle coming from Chan.

“Oh, for sure,” he nods, scratching the back of his neck. “We have to tune it down next semester. Wouldn’t wanna end up in AA instead of graduating.”

“Now, that’s a long way from here,” you say, shaking your head in amusement.

“You never know before it’s too late, to be fair.”

You don’t realize it back then, but Chan is always somehow there when you take it too far, taking note of your drunken needs and providing you safety from creeps in the club. Lee Chan holds your hair back when you throw up, your stomach too weak on certain nights. He is there when you want to dance and also when you want to cool down. He’s your drinking buddy, sure, but the reality is greater than that– he always wants you to have fun and be as comfortable as you can be. If he can do anything to ensure that, he’s going to do it.

That applies to your sober adventures as well, although he’s more reserved when he has nothing to blame for his obviously smitten actions. Cranking his neck to look at you better, Chan decides to get rid of anything to blame next time.

Maybe he has to try harder.

Just tonight, for the last time, Chan kisses you with an excuse of alcohol to fall back on in front of your dorm building when nobody is watching, paying his goodbyes to you. He kisses you almost tenderly, making your knees buckle and the lightness in your stomach cry out with full measures.

“I’ll miss you, Y/L/N.”

You don't see Chan for a while after. You spend the rest of the winter break you have after completing your exams at home, relaxing with your parents. They are right when they say that the holidays should be spent with your family– no matter how much you love the friends you made in university.

Coming back to school after the few weeks of break brought a sudden change to your and Chan’s dynamic, though. While you must admit that you’ve grown strangely closer over the months, talking more even sober and naturally gravitating towards each other when sitting in booths at McDonald’s or falling into casual conversation at the back of the group when walking to places with everyone, you find that Chan puts more effort into being friends with you now.

He texts you randomly through-out the day, asking you how you are and what you’re up to. He sends you pictures of Seungkwan when he’s sleeping in the lectures, and you even find yourself laughing at the Instagram reels he randomly shoots your way in the middle of the night sometimes. He doesn’t drink much even when all of you end up going to the nearby bar again on a Tuesday evening, and you find yourself following his pattern, knowing that even if you gave in to the alcohol, the tipsy state wouldn’t be as fun if you didn’t have anyone to share the same energy with.

Because while you do enjoy drinking, the truth is, it’s not as fun without your drinking buddy. Half the fun of drinking is having fun with the people you share the moment with, and, well, it wouldn’t feel right to drink with the others being sober. You owe your friends that much.

Lee Chan puts effort into being friends with you more, and you don’t know if you like it.

Because even though before, you weren’t as close as you might be now, the adrenaline of what could be and what even is between the two of you any time you’re under the influence was exciting you, keeping you on your toes, making you feel desired and liked. Now, he’s relaxed– no more than an arm around your shoulder when his hand gets tired in the booth of the bar. The casualty of it all gets you worried.

So when the time comes and the two of you finally hang out one on one today, getting boba and then finding comfort in the April sunlight provided by the park across from your dorms, you find yourself questioning the nature of this hangout. And you think you’re not wrong for that, of course– everyone with working two eyes must admit that Lee Chan has been sending you mixed signals so far.

Hearing the question “Can I kiss you?” from his mouth, his cheeks dusted pink and eyes big in anticipation, was even more surprising to your ears, and you might understand it better now– the history you have with the boy suggests that there’s no need in asking, but also, the intentions are more than unclear at the moment. He’s not drunk– not even tipsy– why is this happening, then?

“I mean, we don’t have to, of course, I– I just–” he stutters, eyes aimlessly breaking eye contact with yours to stare anywhere but at your lips right now, nerves clearly written all over his face and in the stance he’s taking, a few steps below you on the stairway to the dormitory. Snickering at his hesitance, you sigh to yourself.

“This is the first time you asked,” you mumble a little jokingly, and when the boy’s eyes finally meet yours again, he seems a little embarrassed from the way his ears are burning red and he chews on the inside of his cheek.

The tone of his voice is kind of defeated, a little shy, even, when he speaks up again. “Well, yeah,” he shrugs, “so I finally wanted to do it right. And sober, no matter how fucking wrong and weird that sounds.”

Breaking into a soft laughter at his comment– because truthfully, to a stranger’s ear, that might sound a little alarming– you roll your eyes at the boy and lean down to be at his level, palms of your hands meeting with his cheeks as he watches you with curious eyes, the sparkle in them filling you to the brim with endearance. Your lips meet with his in a gentle, soft, yet yearning-filled kiss, having your eyes fluttering close and the pads of your thumbs softly stroking over the skin of his cheekbones.

The kiss is no different to the ones you’ve shared before– well, except there’s no loud music in the background, no smell of trash cans behind the bar or the smoke of an earlier-smoked cigarette in the air, and most importantly, no taste of alcohol on either of your lips– but still, it feels a little different. Sure, it has your knees week and your stomach feeling fuzzy, it does make you feel like you’re drunker than you were, which now, sober, you realize it just the effect Lee Chan has on you alone, but there’s a little more care, thought and intention to the kiss now, and it hits you with full force when you pull away from him and feel his hands glazing the skin of your waist in a hesitant hug.

“So that means this was a date then, right?” you ask.

“Well, you didn’t really seem to care about that all the times we've kissed before–” he jokes, earning himself a swat to his shoulder.

Now he’s bold.

“Okay, sure, if it helps you sleep at night. I’ll even take you out on another one, if you want.”

Turns out that alcohol was the variable in your relationship that only brought you two courage– the desire to kiss his lips off has always been there, you just never acted on it sober. And while you’re not so sure you’re gonna tell the story of how you two met in detail to your kids one day, you’re glad for the kick the rum and coke gave you on the day of your orientation, because who knows. Maybe you wouldn’t be here without the weird coincidence.

#seventeen #dino #lee chan #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #dino fic #dino fluff #dino x reader #lee chan fic #lee chan fluff #lee chan x reader #seventeen reactions #svt fluff #svt x reader #dino scenario #dino drabble #lee chan scenario #lee chan drabble

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boorines · 7 months

Note

Can I request an imagine for Chan, being a soft boyfie taking care of his significant other when they come back home all stressed and overwhelmed with work ✨

hi anon, here u go!! hope u enjoy it <3

i assumed this was for a fem reader but if it isn’t please let me know!!

not proofread please ignore any mistakes <3

—

you toss your bag onto the chair as you walk into the bedroom, flopping onto the bed in exhaustion. you’re too tired to manage anything but a small smile when you feel the bed dip beside you.

“hi, you”, chan whispers, rubbing small circles on the back of your hand.

“hi”, you breathe out, so very grateful for his presence.

he gently coaxes you into a sitting position, pulling you into his side softly before dropping a kiss on your head. “long day?”, he questions. you nod against his shoulder and sigh.

“not great, either. two presentations due next week and a research essay due thursday”, it sounds like one long word the way it tumbles out of your mouth.

chan squeezes your shoulder softly, lightly tracing patterns on your arm. “a movie and bed, then? have you eaten?”, his brows furrow when you shake your head no. “dinner, movie and bed”, he amends with a decisive nod.

he leaves another kiss on your forehead before leaving the room and returning with a pack of makeup wipes. he stands in front of you and gently tugs you up onto your feet before gathering you into his arms. “let’s freshen you up, yeah?”, he whispers into your hair. you nod in gratitude and thank your stars for chan, for his presence and for his unwavering support.

you find yourself sat on the bathroom countertop with chan stood between your knees. he gently swipes at the makeup on your cheeks with damp wipes, humming at his work in approval before moving to your forehead. one of his hand gently holds your chin, tilting your face towards his. as he wipes across your forehead his eyes drop to yours, your soft gaze and warm smile making his knees weak. you feel his hand move from your chin to the side of your face, cupping your cheek with all the care in the world. chan strokes your skin once, twice, before leaning down and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. you smile into the kiss, squeezing his forearm as you feel him sigh into your mouth.

“you’re unbelievable”, he whispers, pulling away.

“i’ve done nothing but sit here. you’re unbelievable”, you respond with an incredulous shake of your head.

“just sitting here and yet driving me crazy”.

you blush at his words, cheeks dusted a soft pink as you swat at his arm. the laugh you draw from him is all you needed to hear today.

the bath that chan runs for you is steaming when you sink into the water and lukewarm when you finally decide to step out. you reach for the towel rack to dry off and your brows knit together when you find no towels hanging from the metal rod.

“channie?”, you call out from the bathroom, praying he’s not too far on the other side of the door. you’d walk out and fetch one yourself but the new rug by your shared bed would take the brunt of your bath.

“yes? you okay in there, love?”, you hear through the bathroom door.

“all good! could you please hand me a towel? there’s none in here”. you hear a muffled hum of acknowledgment before the door creaks open.

chan pokes his head into the bathroom to pass you a towel. it must be fresh out the dryer, you think, when you feel how warm it is in your hands. you look up at your boyfriend and find his cheeks blazing, eyes turned to the floor.

“chan?”, you question. “what is it?”

he shakes his head softly before looking up at you in wonder. you wrap yourself up in the towel before walking towards him, stepping into the bedroom as he moves away from the door to make room for you.

“you’re gorgeous”, you hear him whisper behind you and you turn around to face a chan that looks like he’s been struck by cupid.

“this isn’t new to you, love”, you chuckle, squeezing his hand.

“might as well be, seeing how i can never get used to it”, he replies. and now it’s your turn to blush.

he sits himself down on the edge of the bed, quietly watching you in awe as you change into an old pair of shorts and one of his t-shirts. he thinks his heart could burst. “dinner”, he announces softly after you’re ready, tugging you into the living room.

post dinner, you find yourself in bed with blankets wrapped around you, head resting on chan’s chest and an arm lazily slug over his torso. his arm is resting securely on your waist, soft kisses being placed atop your head.

“movie?”, he mumbles into your hair. he moves towards the laptop on the bedside table when he feels you nod against his chest.

he’s setting the laptop on his legs, finding a comfortable place to rest it when when he asks you what you’re in the mood for. he tinkers with the laptop a little more before asking again, ready to pick what you respond with. he looks down at your head when he doesn’t hear an answer.

your eyes are closed, face pressed against his chest while yours rises and falls rhythmically. his eyes soften and he melts, fond smile growing on his face. he carefully replaces the laptop before settling further into the pillows.

he gently moves your head higher up his chest, a precaution he takes just in case you wake up with a sore neck. with a whispered ‘goodnight’, he drops a soft kiss to your head.

taking care of each other is routine. because at the end of the day, he has you and you have him.

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blue-jisungs · 2 months

Text

SO I DANCED

author's note. im sooo proud of this one like?? both the banner and the fic huhuhuhuh idk man

word count. 1597

summary. you and your fiancé have rather... unusual ideas how to sped your dates. and making money during it.

warnings. petnames, cursing, stealing (money and a car), mention of chan carrying a gun and shooting but it’s not mentioned whether he killed someone, general illegal actions lmao, mention of blades but they’re not used!! ++ it seems chaotic but i kinda wanted to reflect the mv ++ black haired mullet chan with a lip piercing (you know EXACTLY which one) bc it deserves a warning itself ^_^

if someone asked you what activities you and your fiancé do during dates, your answer would be: “normal, couple stuff”.

for example going to the movies, cafe hopping, walks in the park, shopping…

and that wouldn’t be a lie.

what you do on your nighttime dates, however, you wouldn’t dare describing to a stranger nor even a friend.

maybe after all you and chan aren’t a normal couple.

“you ready? because i swear to god if you suddenly remind yourself that you left water running at home… and you actually didn’t… i’ll choke you with my own hands” chan grinned teasingly but you didn't feel threatened at all.

“it was just a one time thing, dumbass. i’m ready” you nodded and turned your head, resting it against the headrest. “let’s go?”

chan leaned over and pecked your lips, the cold piercing in his bottom lip grazing over yours.

you two left the car and the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance roared, like a hungry predator hiding in the bushes. dark clouds took over the evening sky, a wide palette of greys and navies spreading above your head. cold air is hugging your body while a gentle gust runs through your hair.

“in and out, quickly. i really wanna know how that hospital playlist episode ended” chan murmured and threw you a black mask. you caught it mid-air and hid in your pocket, alongside a switchblade.

there was no way of putting it softly, only very straightforwardly: you and your financé did robberies. what started as a joke when you were out drinking turned into… well, this.

chan patted his holster and then did a dramatic bow, letting you go first.

it was a small bank in the suburbs and your fiancé got their blueprints beforehand (he said something soonyoung helped him get them and you decided to trust him), therefore you already knew how to get to the vault. and the plan was quite simple – and usually made up the day before.

for example, today, you’re just going to pretend to be a unsatisfied couple who is going to nag to see if their money is safe. chan had a huge talent to persuade people into doing what he wants… paired with his dangerous aura (mostly thanks to the lip piercing and dark makeup), it could only lead to success.

walking in, your boyfriend joined your side and intertwined your hands together. giving it a gentle squeeze, he lead you to one of the assistants available. the other three must have been in a break – or so the silver “be right back!” signs in their counters suggested.

“hello there, how can i help you?” the young man behind the glass greeted you in a monotonous voice. the air inside the building was chilly, a pleasant hum of air conditioning (and something that sounded like elevator music) playing in the background.

“we wanted to see if our deposit is safe. we heard various rumours about this place and we won’t leave until we see our money in a secure place” chan said sternly, causing you to nod. well, straight to the point.

the worker sobered up and looked at you. chan let out a grunt and pulled you closer.

“let’s just go get the manager right away, sweetie” you cooed at the boy, making your fiancé’s lips turn upwards into a derisory smirk.

“i… uh… okay!” the worker nodded and off he went. chan leaned in to place a soft kiss on your jaw, the cold mental grazing against your skin.

“so far so good” he hummed, his cologne filling your senses.

the worker arrived and chan didn’t care – he pecked your jaw once again before slowly leaning away.

“are you the manager?” you asked, raising your eyebrows. the man nodded, looking you in the eye coldly. to be fair, it was late. you’d wanna go home too.

“let me get this straight… you want to see your money?” the worker asked, letting out a deep sigh. now it was your turn to nod “and may i know your name?”

“we put the deposit on my name. pi cheolin” chan answered unbothered, putting an arm around you. you had to hold your breath in – no matter how many times he’s gonna use the fake name, it’s still going to make you snicker.

“ah, yes” the man nodded, checking something in his papers. then he glanced at his watch “whatever. how much did you put?”

“twenty million won” chan grinned proudly. the manager checked the time again.

“fine. i can only let one person in, though” he said and looked between you two. chan nodded.

“i’ll go. it won’t take too long, right? go start the engine, sugarbear” he hummed and stood up. you watched him follow the manager and quickly after they disappeared behind a door, you decided to go back to the car. if chan told you to start the car, it could only mean one thing.

you put on some radio, nervously shifting in the driver’s seat. usually, you were the passenger princess and you’d prefer it stayed that way… but hey, maybe it won’t be that bad?

suddenly, the bank door burst open and you saw chan running with a black bag.

let the race begin.

he yanked the door hantle and almost jumped into the seat, causing you to immediately hit the road. chan let out a yelp of surprise, closing the door. good thing he was fast with it, otherwise you might would have lost a mirror.

“it’s not our car either way…” he let out a dramatic sigh, wording out lost what you were thinking. he put the bag between his legs and turned around in his seat. you just changed the gear to the next one, ignoring the speed limits “go into the city, we’ll be able to lose them”

“do you think they’ll call backup?” you mumbled, glancing in the mirror. chan scoffed, shaking his head.

“by the time the backup arrives, we’ll be drinking wine on our couch. put the pedal to the metal, sweetcakes” your fiancé sent you a toothy grin.

you glanced at the gear box, then at the growing red arrow on the speedometer.

you were on the highway, it was quite empty. deciding to mess with chan, you purposely took your foot off the clutch a bit too fast after putting the highest gear. this caused the car to jerk forward and chan – who was without seatbelts – bonked his forehead against the headrest. he looked through his arm at you.

“yah” he scoffed in amusement and returned to observing your tail. they seemed to not catch up, which was great “the exit is soon, don’t worry”

“it better be because my heart is about to jump out of my body” you gritted your teeth and your knuckles turned white from gripping the steering wheel.

chan suddenly opened the window and the wolf-alike howl of the wind hit your ears, your hair flowing in every direction. then, he took out his gun and leaned out of the window.

“chan–!” you yelped and were met with a gunshot ripping the air. he quickly leaned back, his back hitting the seat with his chest rising up and down irregularly.

“the exit!” he suddenly grunted and pulled the steering wheel – not enough to take a sharp turn but to lead you towards it.

“sorry, i was just shocked by my fiancé using A GUN?” you grunted and felt - somehow - relieved finally entering the grounds you know.

“i aimed for a tire… and it worked, i assume” chan breathed heavily, running his fingers through his black hair “we’re fine, y/n. let’s just go to the docks and leave the car there”

“you’re insane” you murmured and felt his hand on your thigh, caressing it in a reassuring motion.

the city was soaked in night sky that already turned coal-black. the stars shone brightly, keeping you a little hopeful. as you passed the high skyscrapers and buildings, their lights blending into palettes of yellows, greens, whites and reds.

when you arrived at the docks, chan gave you the bag to hold and took care of the car (more like drove it into the water). then, he stood next to you and wrapped an arm around your shaking self. standing in silence, you watched the vehicle disappear underneath the water surface.

“let’s go home, pretty” chan pecked your temple and grabbed the bag, hanging it over his shoulder.

once inside, chan placed the bag on the kitchen counter. his eyes scanned your face in worry.

“you’re okay?” he asked, taking off his leather jacket.

“just… a little shocked, that’s all. how much did you even take…?” you asked. a joyful smile bloomed on his face as he approached you, his calloused hands landing on your waist “channie? how do you feel?”

he broke down into laughter, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. chan started swaying your bodies, dancing in the kitchen. you soon joined him, giggled erupting from your lips.

“let’s just say our wedding will be not from this earth” he hummed into your skin, suddenly twirling you around; moonlight shining on your faces, dancing in the middle of your shared kitchen.

main masterlist | event masterlist

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @eternalgyuuu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,, @mine-gyu

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seokminkisser · 9 months

Text

LAVENDER HAZE.

pairing: lee chan x fem!reader

word count: 1.9k words

genre: fluff, suggestive

tags: PININGGGG, reader and chan have a lot of tension, marijuana use, suggestive content and alluding to sex afterwards

a/n: finally got around to writing my stoner chan fic yay! smoke responsibly loves (@sunnylovespickles i hope you enjoy it bub)

yeri was going to be dead meat the minute you found her.

the problem did not lie in the fact that she had decided to ditch you at the hang out, you both had enough trust and faith in each other to mingle and socialize on your own. the problem lay in the fact that she had decided to ditch you to have a very long talk with her ex-girlfriend? situationship?

you didn’t even have time to give her an earful as she left the room giving you her pleading “just give us five minutes” look as doyeon led her away. she was a lost cause.

there weren’t many people gathered at jeonghan’s house but the living room still felt incredibly stuffy. a few people had decided to hotbox earlier and poor you had arrived at the party too late to join, the lingering smoke gave you an incredible case of fomo.

“hi pretty.”

your head lolled back making contacts with the prettiest boy in the room.

“hi channie.”

a lazy grin spreads on chan’s face as he moves around the couch to sit next to you, an arm resting on the backrest of the couch behind your head. you wanted to eat him alive.

“when did you get here?” you ask, your finger tracing the rim of your glass as you look at him. he adjusts himself on the couch, legs spreading a bit wider while his free hand rummages in his jacket pocket.

“like ten minutes ago? had to make the rounds a bit before i could come spend time with the prettiest girl in the room.” he says giving you a sly wink, his rummaging coming to a stop.

your scoff turns into a slight giggle and you hit his arm the minute the last few words come out his mouth. something about chan turned you into a giddy middle schooler even though you hadn’t been in middle school in years.

your relationship with chan was unnecessarily complicated. you were attracted to him on a level you could not even comprehend and you knew he felt the same. he took care of your weed needs and you baked him matcha cookies whenever he craved them. and yet, neither of you had taken any steps to crossing the line that kept your friendship as it was. just friendship.

“you’re such a sweet talker chan, i might get sick.”

“let me make it up to you then pretty,” chan laughs and pulls something out of his jacket pocket, “remember that video you sent me?”

you couldn’t help the squeal you let out as you pluck the three pale pink joints out of his hand. “chan do you know that you are the best and most perfect person i have ever met.” you say as cross your legs, laying the joints on your exposed thigh as delicately as possible.

“yeri better not hear that or she will have my head on a silver platter.” he grins as his eyes follow the movement of your hands resting on your thigh now. at the mention of your best friend’s name you roll your eyes and give chan a big pout.

“aww did she leave you all on your own again? poor baby. but its okay i’m here now and i’ll take care of you.”

you grin at chan and nod. “exactly, you’re here now and you brought me my favorite things.”

his smile reaches his eyes as he poked your arm. “favorite things huh? didn’t know you liked something more than free weed.”

“obviously that something is you.”

“yeah?” he murmurs, his fingertips gently touching your arm as if to test the waters. you welcome his touch, slowly inching your body closer towards him. chan takes this as a sign that he wasn’t doing too much, his upper body turning to face you better. your shoulders are touching and his free hand comes to rest on your thigh picking up one of the joints.

in the process his finger grazes your thigh and your breath hitches. his touch felt absolutely electrifying.

chan leans forward slowly, his lips softly grazing your ear as he whispers, “you gonna let me smoke you out pretty?”

your eyes flutter shut as he presses the softest kiss on the side of your neck.

“yeah, channie. would let you do anything.”

he pulls away, a twinkle in his eye as he stands up. “come on then, think jeonghan’s living room is a bit too crowded for what i have planned for you pretty.”

—

chan could already sense the pretty pout on your face as he leads you into jeonghan’s kitchen. if it were up to him he would have already found an empty room, thrown you in and had his way with you, but he promised to smoke you out and he always kept his promises.

“why did you bring me here channie, i thought we were gonna smoke.” you pout and he turns to you and motions for you to sit on the counter.

“and we will pretty, but i have to make sure you have something to drink and something to eat for after. told you i’m gonna take care of you.”

your pout turns into the prettiest smile he has ever seen as you kick your legs back and forth. “have i told you you’re the biggest sweet talker ever channie?” you smile, your fingers fiddling with the golden lighter on your lap. a lighter he had gifted to you weeks ago.

chan smiles, nodding softly as he turns towards the cupboards as he basically ransacks through jeonghan’s kitchen.

chan thinks it’s okay though because the amount of money jeonghan owes chan on account of his frequent acts of freeloading on chan’s weed stash makes chan’s snack ‘borrowing’ tendencies pale in comparison.

“mhm only for you pretty,” he says, grabbing a bottle of chilled water and a few snickers bars, your absolute favorite. he turns back to you and he is afraid he might melt on the spot.

the dim light in the kitchen illuminated you in a way that made you look absolutely angelic. he could feel his heart skip a beat, then another before his eyes moved to your exposed thighs.

you were softly scratching a nail across your skin, the scratching more akin to a soft caress along your inner thigh. it was a habit you have always had and it was one of the reasons he loved it when you wore short skirts. usually, he imagined it was his own fingers stroking your thigh.

and if god loved him, he wouldn’t have to imagine for much longer.

“come on let’s go outside,” he motions for the door and you hop off the counter trailing behind him.

it’s chilly outside, the warmth of the august air had dissipated and chan led you to the lawn chairs in jeonghan’s backyard. you sat down, legs crossing over each other and chan took the chair next to you, quietly moving it a bit closer to yours.

he hopes it’s not too obvious.

on your lips sits a little smile as you look down on your legs before holding up the golden lighter. “look! i told you i wouldn’t lose it.”

he smiles again, god knows he is unable to not smile around you, taking out the joint and placing it between his lips. “i’m proud of you baby.” he says and he barely catches the way your twinkle at the pet name. but he is so glad that he does.

you hand him the lighter but all he does is lean his head down, an indirect way of telling you to light it for him.

you bite your lip softly, delicately, as you place the lighter under the joint and chan’s head swims with images of biting your lip the same way.

softly.

delicately.

your fingers fumble a bit with the spark wheel of the lighter as you light the joint and you lock eyes. chan does not break the steady eye contact as he takes a slow drag of the joint, taking a slow exhale.

you break the eye contact first, coughing softly as you settle into the lawn chair.

“i can’t believe you actually got me a lavender joint just because i sent you that video. you didn’t have to you know?”

chan takes another drag before handing the joint to you and you take it gladly, inhaling.

“wanted to make you happy, you seemed so excited to try it.” he mumbles, playing with the zipper on his jacket. “and besides, i’ve never tried combining lavender with weed and i also wanted to try it out for myself.”

you nod taking another pull as chan has an inner battle with himself.

should he give you his jacket? it is the gentlemanly thing to do and chan wanted to impress you but he also didn’t want to make you uncomfortable but he is also sure that you wouldn’t have a problem with it but he doesn’t know if he should take it slow and—

“what are you thinking so hard about channie.”

he looks over to you, a dopey smile settled on your face, legs tucked under you on the chair. he shakes his head and you motion for him to come closer, leaning in to whisper into his ear.

“if you want to kiss me, you know you can just do it.”

chan pulls away faster than lightening and you giggle at his reaction, shrugging. “i’m just saying, we have been dancing around each other for weeks now and the lavender in this joint is making me really really high really quickly so i wanna say it before i’m too far gone.”

you giggle again at the blush that started to spread on his cheek and you nudge him with your elbow. “why, you don’t wanna kiss me?” you ask, and chan sees as you start to sober up as his silence might indicate a rejection.

“fuck, of course i want to kiss you.”

“then what’s stopping you?”

at that chan stills. what exactly was stopping him? he wanted you, you wanted him and earlier he had acted to damn confident. where did that confidence go?

“okay channie,” you say leaning in close to him as your free hand comes to rest on his cheek. his breath hitches as your face comes close, the tip of your nose touching his. “i’m gonna kiss you now, okay?”

he nods, slowly as if his body was stuck in a daze and you finally lean forward closing the distance between you.

holy fucking shit.

the minute your lips touch, chan feels fireworks exploding in his chest and he’s scared his heart might come to a stop. he had imagined this moment so many times but reality couldn’t even come even close to his dreams.

your lips tasted like your favorite raspberry lip balm, the sprite you had earlier, the weed you had shared.

you deepen the kiss, tilting your head to the side and chan takes your face between his hands trying to pull you as close as physically possible. a whimper escapes your lips as you let chan lead the kiss and he thinks if he dies right now his soul will be forever damned, damned to a lifetime of kissing you.

you pull away, trying to catch your breath and chan isn’t better off.

“holy shit.”

chan nods in agreement, and you take his hand standing up from the chair, joint long forgotten. “where are we going to?” he asks, standing up with you and you grin up at him.

“you can’t fuck me in jeonghan’s backyard, that’s a bit too kinky for me.”

the moment these words leave your lips, chan's already dragging your laughing figure back into the house and praying to the lord above jeonghan still had a box of condoms in his bathroom.

#svthub #lina’s works #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #dino fluff #dino smut #dino x reader #stoner svt #lee chan drabble #chan x reader #chan fluff #chan smut

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thru-the-grapevine · 1 year

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(content warning: reader gets periods)

[7:21 PM] “Go away,” you groaned when a knock came at your door. Your cramps were killing you, and you were not in the mood to try and socialize, even with your roommate.

There was a slight pause. “Oh, uh…are you sure?”

You opened your eyes and glared for a long moment at the ceiling. Not the roommate. Chan. How were you supposed to say no to Chan? You knew his feelings would be hurt if you turned him away.

“Fine, come in at your own risk,” You mumbled. “Sorry in advance if I’m really grouchy. Just…pain.”

You closed your eyes again and heard the door ease open.

“I came to help,” Chan said quietly. You heard him pad across the carpet, felt him sit on the edge of your bed.

You lifted your hand and settled your forearm over your eyes. “I swear I appreciate it, but unless you have a way to gouge my uterus out–”

“Just hear me out,” Chan rushed, and you heard the sound of something being set down next to you.

“First, I know you have your own stuffies, but maybe Mr. Snuggles can help keep you company? He’s really good for squeezing when the pain is bad.”

You lifted your arm slightly and cracked open an eye. The gaze of a familiar sparkly red stuffed dragon met yours. Despite the pain, you felt the urge to smile pulling at the corner of your mouth. You’d discovered this little guy sitting at the end of Chan’s bed at his place before he could hide it away, and you’d been pouting and begging to get a glimpse of him ever since.

“Also, I made these. My sister says she really enjoys them when she’s in pain, too, that she got the recipe from you?”

You could smell something warm and chocolate as a little package wrapped in parchment paper appeared next to Mr. Snuggles. The only recipe you could remember having given his sister was one for brownies, and you felt your appetite perk up for the first time all day.

“And then your roommate helped me make this.”

A thermos appeared on top of the parchment paper package.

“It’s that tea that you like. I, uh…your roommate spilled the secret of the different flavors you mix together to make it, so I got those teas and gave it a shot. It’s probably not all-the-way perfect, but–”

“Are you sugar personified or something?” You interrupted, lifting your arm away from your face completely and looking at Chan.

He blinked. “Uh…”

You felt your face grow hot. “You’re just…being really sweet. When you don’t have to be. You made my special tea?”

Understanding dawned on Chan’s face, and then his ears turned pink.

“Of course I don’t have to be sweet, but I want to be,” Chan insisted. “It’s what good boyfriends do.”

“Always so worried about what good boyfriends should do,” You murmured, nudging the gifts aside. “C’mere.”

Chan smiled and scooted up the bed, laying next to you and letting you wrap him in a hug.

You tucked your face against his collarbone. “Mr. Snuggles is probably good for cuddling, but you’re better.”

Chan laughed. “Thanks, love.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled into his t-shirt collar, snuggling closer. “Wanna share a brownie in a minute?”

“Don’t you want to try the tea first? It took me a long time to get the mix just right-”

“Do you want a brownie or not?”

“Yes. They smelled amazing baking.”

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svtglitch · 2 years

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muffin for you

requested by @leech4ns: oooohhh also i just saw your reqs are open!!! 🥺 if it’s okay can i request a fluffy coffee shop au with chan (svt)? absolutely no rush and i’ll love whatever you write 💗

a/n: ty sol for requesting !! it means a lot :3 i hope you enjoy this !! i rewrote this like eight times idk why but open ending bc writing juice ran out oopsie

genre: fluff sm fluff, acquaintances to lovers, coffee shop au

pairing: athlete! lee chan x barista! reader

word count: 0.5k

You loved the smell of coffee and pastries. That’s why you ended up working at the campus cafe. Working there had a breeze since your friend, Mingyu, had trained you. It's been a few months since you’ve started but you already have favorite regulars. Boo Seungkwan, a music major with the best gossip and the best tips. Jeong Yunho, he’s from a different school but he just loves the way you make coffee and he will admit that proudly. And Lee Chan, the shyest athlete you’ve ever met. Lee Chan always comes in a rush everyday before practice and he always has a shy smile when he apologizes.

At one point you timed when he comes in so you can make his order before he shows up. Finally after two weeks of timing, you figure out about the time Chan comes in everyday. You still remember the day you first tried it out. The door's bells jingle its familiar tune and Chan comes in with a sheepish smile.

“Hi Chan! I made your drink early so you don’t have to wait. Let me just put some ice in it and I’ll be right there, Mingyu will ring you up.” You say as you scoop some ice into the cup and a muffin bad with a cute note to cheer him on.

“Oh my god, do you have a crush on little Mr. Lee Chan? Very subtle and smooth, y/n.” Mingyu teases.

You groan at Mingyu’s antics since you usually bully the overgrown child. You just know this is gonna be a daily thing.

Fast forward to now, the crush you’ve grown for the cute and not very punctual soccer player has grown like weeds in a pretty bed of flowers, annoying and too much. Mingyu has been persistent in getting you to confess, yet you’re still hesitant. What if he doesn't like you or, worse, thinks you’re weird.

Mingyu whines as you two are on break,”Come on y/n! He has to like you. You literally save his ass everyday and give him a free, emphasis on free, muffin with a cute encouraging note everyday. That dude must love you. I mean I would love you for that; I love free shit.”

“Mingyu I hate you, why would I need to know if you would love me. I wanna know if I have a chance with Chan, not your beanstalk ass.” You say as you roll your eyes.

You see Mingyu pout as you get up to put on your apron and go to take orders. You walk up to the counter still bickering with Mingyu to see Lee Chan right in front of your face.

“Hi y/n! Practice was canceled so I came early today. Do you think I could get my regular with your phone number, maybe?” Chan says with a shy smile and with his phone stuck out.

a/n: tell me how you feel with a reblog or comment!

#seventeen x reader #seventeen drabbles #seventeen fluff #seventeen oneshot #seventeen imagines #seventeen #dino drabble #dino x reader #dino x you #dino fluff #dino oneshot #dino imagines #lee chan x reader #lee chan #lee chan x you #lee chan drabble #lee chan imagines #lee chan fluff

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yyxgin · 2 years

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the importance of being lee chan ;; lch

pairing. lee chan x fem! reader genre. theatre au, college au | fluff, comedy wc. 10k (10.271) warnings. swearing a/n. the fic follows the oscar wilde play "the importance of being earnest" and includes parts of the script. i took those from here! this is not my best work and it feels a bit rushed, but i struggled with this fic a lot so this is the best it's gonna get. i hope you still enjoy nonetheless :)

summary. in your university's adaptation of a famous oscar wilde play, you and lee chan struggle with a fatal part that is bound to ruin everything-- neither of you have mastered the art of a stage kiss.

“Charming day it has been, Miss Fairfax,” Soonyoung proposes in a posh tone, one that makes everyone giggle under their breath as they watch from the rows of red seats that create the university theatre. Walking slowly across the whole stage, no stage props yet in sight, since it’s not the premiere day, the oldest student in the whole play gracefully says his lines in one of the last university plays he’ll ever get to act in.

“Pray don’t talk to me about the weather, Mr. Worthing. Whenever people talk to me about the weather, I always feel quite certain that they mean something else. And that makes me so nervous,” Minjeong says, taking the role of Gwendolen, Soonyoung’s in-play love interest.

“I do mean something else.”

“I thought so. In fact, I am never wrong,” Minjeong shrugs, full of confidence. The role suits her perfectly– there’s no wonder that the charming sophomore got to play the main character in this semester’s play. With her stage presence and the way she holds herself, there’s truly no one else more fit for the role.

“And I would like to be allowed to take advantage of Lady Bracknell’s temporary absence…”

“I would certainly advise you to do so. Mamma has a way of coming back suddenly into a room that I have often had to speak to her about,” upon hearing Minejong’s line, the little group of people sitting in the audience snicker, perhaps remembering the times where their own mothers went into their rooms without knocking on the door.

Soonyoung proposes his next lines with fake nervousness, scratching the back of his neck. “Miss Fairfax, ever since I met you I have admired you more than any girl… I have ever met since… I met you.”

“Yes, I am quite well aware of the fact. And I often wish that in public, at any rate, you had been more demonstrative. For me you have always had an irresistible fascination. Even before I met you I was far from indifferent to you,” Minjoeng says, the tone of voice mirroring the matter-of-fact atmosphere she’s trying to portray. Soonyoung, in the role of Jack, stares at her in amazement. “We live, as I hope you know, Mr. Worthing, in an age of ideals. The fact is constantly mentioned in the more expensive monthly magazines, and has reached the provincial pulpits, I am told; and my ideal has always been to love someone of the name of Ernest. There is something in that name that inspires absolute confidence. The moment Algernon first mentioned to me that he had a friend called Ernest, I knew I was destined to love you.”

“You really love me, Gwendolen?” Soonyoung holds a hand at his heart, acting in surprise, emotions running through the character’s body.

“Passionately!”

“Darling! You don’t know how happy you’ve made me.”

“My own Ernest!” Minjeong gasps, getting to the main point of the whole act and the play itself.

“But you don’t really mean to say that you couldn’t love me if my name wasn’t Ernest?”

“But your name is Ernest,” Minejong says, stopping in her tracks at the left edge of the stage, looking at Soonyoung with undeniable confidence.

“Yes, I know it is. But supposing it was something else? Do you mean to say you couldn’t love me then?”

Minjeong shakes her head in mock disbelief, sighing as she delivers the next line. “Ah! that is clearly a metaphysical speculation, and like most metaphysical speculations has very little reference at all to the actual facts of real life, as we know them.”

“Personally, darling, to speak quite candidly, I don’t much care about the name of Ernest… I don’t think the name suits me at all,” Soonyoung mumbles, almost identical to the tone he uses when he messes up and tries to cover it up in front of the others.

“It suits you perfectly. It is a divine name. It has a music of its own. It produces vibrations,” Minejong sighs, eyes glimmering even in the singular light you’re allowed to use when you practise the play.

“Well, really, Gwendolen, I must say that I think there are lots of other much nicer names. I think Jack, for instance, a charming name.”

“Jack?...” Minjeong perks up, looking at Soonyoung. She takes a few seconds to continue, furrowing her brows as she acts lost in thought. “No, there is very little music in the name Jack, if any at all, indeed. It does not thrill. It produces absolutely no vibrations… I have known several Jacks, and they all, without exception, were more than usually plain. Besides, Jack is a notorious domesticity for John! And I pity any woman who is married to a man called John. She would probably never be allowed to know the entrancing pleasure of a single moment’s solitude. The only really safe name is Ernest.”

The way Oscar Wilde managed to predict the very present problem of the J names phenomenon a century before it arised is truly a miracle. No wonder the play feels timeless.

“Gwendolen, I must get christened at once—I mean we must get married at once. There is no time to be lost,” Soonyoung spits with urgency, even throwing his arms up to add more effect.

“Married, Mr. Worthing?”

“Well… surely. You know that I love you, and you led me to believe, Miss Fairfax, that you were not absolutely indifferent to me,” Soonyoung says, the tone of voice known to be a well-trained theatre performance. Even if the senior hasn’t practised his lines yet, there’s something about his tone when he says them aloud for the first time that suggests that he was born to be on the stage.

“I adore you. But you haven’t proposed to me yet. Nothing has been said at all about marriage. The subject has not even been touched on.”

“Well… may I propose to you now?” he asks.

“I think it would be an admirable opportunity. And to spare you any possible disappointment, Mr. Worthing, I think it only fair to tell you quite frankly before-hand that I am fully determined to accept you.”

“Gwendolen!”

“Yes, Mr. Worthing, what have you got to say to me?”

“You know what I have got to say to you.”

“Yes, but you don’t say it.”

“Gwendolen, will you marry me?” Soonyoung finally asks, getting on his knees.

“Of course I will, darling. How long you have been about it! I am afraid you have had very little experience in how to propose,” Minjeong sighs, shaking her head.

“My own one, I have never loved anyone in the world but you,” Soonyoung dreamily explains, still kneeling on the ground.

“Yes, but men often propose for practice. I know my brother Gerald does. All my girl-friends tell me so. What wonderfully blue eyes you have, Ernest! They are quite, quite, blue. I hope you will always look at me just like that, especially when there are other people present,” Minjeong dramily exclaims, her tone getting more and more exciting.

Shin Ryujin enters the stage, the hunch in her figure not yet endorsed by the costume of an old lady, making her quite funny to look at.

“Mr. Worthing! Rise, sir, from this semi-recumbent posture. It is most indecorous.”

“Mamma!” Minjeong exclaims, almost a little terrified.

“Aaand cut!” the loud voice of none other than Boo Seungkwan, the leader of the theatre club and the self-proclaimed director (although no one had enough courage to nominate somebody else), cuts through the small theatre, making the actors relax in their positions and turn Seungkwan’s way, awaiting his directions.

Sitting back in your little red seat, watching the director march up the scene, murmuring something under his breath to Ryujin, the newbie that just entered the club, you hear your friend Mingyu mutter something into your ear in the dark, making you turn your head to him.

“Huh?” you ask, not hearing his question through your dear director’s exclamations echoing through the space.

“I said this play reminds me of you,” he giggles under his breath, making you furrow your brows.

Your childhood friend really can be confusing with his remarks sometimes. Not understanding his comment, you lean closer to him, not to break the sacred silence of the theatre, and also not to annoy any of the other actors sitting on various seats scattered all across the theatre, waiting for their turn to practice, and ask him for a clarification.

“What do you mean by that?”

“With the whole Ernest obsession,” he says, his white teeth sparkling under the dim light that is shining down on the stage.

“What?” you snap again, only furrowing your brows further, still not getting his point.

“Don’t you remember your Chan obsession?”

Finally getting what he means, all while cursing the boy for knowing you for so long and for having such a good memory, you roll your eyes with a sigh. “Mingyu-”

“When in middle school you watched that drama and got so obsessed with the main character Chan that when you-”

“Mingyu shut up-” you hurriedly try to stop him, just in case someone’s listening to you in the almost empty theatre. The man doesn’t listen to you, though, and keeps on rambling, the grin on his face only growing deeper as he realises the amount of embarrassment he’s making you feel by remembering memories of yourself.

“That when you met Lee Chan in middle school, you forced yourself to have a crush on him even though you didn’t even know anything about him in the first place?”

“Kim Mingyu I told you to shut the fuck up!” you yell out, not able to bear the ick you’re getting anymore and wanting to get it out of your system and never listen to a word about this incident ever again, because Mingyu is right– you didn’t know the poor boy. You just knew his name, and that surely was not a valid reason to be the object of your conversations during lunch break with your dear best friend now sitting on your side.

The eyes of everyone in the whole room turn to you, heat rising to your cheeks as you see Seungkwan gasp, his mouth already open to scream at you as loud as he can, because, well, the position of the director gives him the permission to do so any time he pleases, as long as you’re in the theatre.

“You shut the fuck up, Y/N!” he yells out, making the rest of the actors laugh out at his outburst, for it’s always fun to see their beloved director frustrated. “This is not your house, we’re trying to act here!”

Battling your laugh, because frankly speaking, the vein that rises on his forehead whenever he screams at someone in frustration is the best sight you could get after a long day of schoolwork, you hold your hand up in apology. “I’m sorry! Go on!”

Burrowing yourself deeper into the seat, kicking your friend in the shin as he just won’t stop laughing under his breath, you try to erase the memory of your silly crush on Lee Chan,

because, well… he’s sitting only a few rows under you, waiting for his turn to practice his next scene with you as his character’s lover.

“So, what exactly is the reason behind all of this?” Mingyu asks, sitting next to you in one of the red booths of the McDonald’s that’s the closest to your university building.

“Team building,” Seungkwan says, counting up all the people on his hands so he can order the exact amount of big cokes, furrowed brows and all, full of concentration.

“So why am I here, then?” Vernon, the tech guy asks. Chwe Vernon is one of the quieter kids in the theatre extracurricular– the one that never acts, but always takes care of all the lights and sound effects– but he’s one of the group nonetheless. His presence isn’t always noticed, but once he opens his mouth and truly says something, the likelihood of everyone losing their mind over how funny his remarks can be is higher than with anyone else in the group.

“I said team building, what’s not clicking?” Seungkwan mutters, obviously already done with the whole setting.

The director disappears with Chan– his right hand, as one would say– to the counter, ordering the never-ending list of Coca Cola and fries, ignoring all the other requests on various burgers and McFlurries, because, well, his memory is not that good and he really can’t be arsed with writing it down, while the whole group remains seated, conversating together about various topics. The girls catch up on the new gossip, and the boys, well… They do as well, because frankly speaking, they’re theatre kids as well. What else would they talk about?

And when the director comes back with his self-assigned secretary Lee Chan, holding two trays full of beverages, the chatter won’t die down even when the poor leader of the theatre team tries to calm everyone down with a loud clap of his hands.

“Will everyone shut up already?” Seungkwan hisses, finally making everyone remain silent for at least a few seconds as they try to battle the laughter trying to battle its way out of their lungs.

“See, Seungkwan? This whole team building thing wasn’t even necessary, we have good chemistry even without it,” Mingyu teases from his seat next to you, making everyone giggle and hum in agreement, because, well, you’ve known each other for at least a while already. Most of you hang out regularly, divided into few groups or pairs of people, but sometimes, even those encounters overlap and you’re forced to hang out with the whole group as well. It’s not like you’re strangers, after all.

“Trust me on this,” Seungkwan mutters, “there’s definitely some bond making we have to do, and I’m the director, I know.”

“Here he comes again with the director card,” Soonyoung mutters under his breath, making Minjeong laugh next to him, earning herself a sharp glare from the poor, bullied Seungkwan.

Distributing the drinks in between all the members of the extracurricular, Seungkwan manages to regain his composure and talk with his usual announcer-like voice again, leading the group and having everything under control. “So, the point of this team building is to get to know better the person you’ll have the most interactions with on the stage, so it doesn’t look awkward and out of place. That’s why I want you all to get to pair with the person you’re acting with the most, and then, we’ll proceed with the activity I prepared for today!”

The almost kindergarten teacher-esque excitement in Seungkwan makes you giggle out loud before you realise the true intention of today’s hang-out. Because, well… as Lee Chan’s lover in the play, you are surely going to spend the most time on stage with him. Something inside of you is telling you that Seungkwan gathered everyone here because of you two, since you and Chan don’t know each other that well, which, admittedly, resulted in your last rehearsal looking awkward and out-of-place. You’re usually very professional, you see– you’ve acted with almost everyone in the room so far, and you never had any trouble with it, since the atmosphere in the theatre and in the rehearsals was always pleasing and welcoming; but with Chan, it’s different. You are all tense and nervous, palms sweaty and memory hazy with the next line.

Absent-mindedly moving your place so you’re next to Chan, you’re now facing Soonyoung and Minjeong, the couple, and Ning and Ryujin, although not appearing on the stage together as often, being paired up together, since Soonyoung and Minjeong are getting priority as the main cast. Doing mental gymnastics on how to be less awkward around your crush from middle school, your train of thought is suddenly cut off by a whine coming from the middle of the U-shaped booth.

“Why am I getting paired up with Vernon? He’s not even in the play!” Mingyu says, earning himself a snarky grin from Seungkwan, still standing at the top of the table.

“Because you’re playing the priest, Mingyu. Do better next time and you won’t have to do team building with the tech guy.”

Snickering at the comment, you take a sip from the coke in front of you, your hands anxiously holding the cup to ground yourself. Bumping your knee up and down in nerves, your eyes meet with Mingyu’s, a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows making you roll your eyes as you look over to Seungkwan, who’s now on the mission of explaining the next step.

“Now, you’re going to share at least three fun facts about yourself with the person you paired up with! And make them fun and random, I don’t want to see any boredom in here,” he says, clapping his hands together to set off the start of the game.

“Oh god,” you mutter under your breath, sighing heavily as you put your head into your hands on the table, already hating the whole encounter. You’re bad at this, you’re very, terribly bad at this; for you think there’s nothing fun about you or the miserable state your life is in at the moment, and you don’t find anything interesting enough to tell to someone you so deeply admired in middle school. Yes, you could tell Mingyu that the whole crush thing was fake and you just made it up because his name was identical to the character in the drama, but at the end of the day, you think that the name was only the spark that made your whole obsession with the said boy real. Again, you didn’t know him well– nor do you know him well now, but still; that didn’t stop the past you from liking him in the slightest.

“Got any fun facts you wanna share?” Chan perks up from beside you, making you turn your attention to him. He’s sitting next to you, back resting against the booth, a smile sitting on his lips that makes his eyes crinkle up and make him look boyish and adorable.

Shrugging, you shake your head. “I’m not good with fun facts. Do you have any?”

“I sure do,” he says, nodding, making you laugh. There’s something about his whole careless aura that makes you feel all giddy inside– the way he always somehow looks like he’s acting, the adrenaline of being on the stage, being the centre of attention, never escaping the boy and leaving him looking as if he was excited to be here.

“Go ahead,” you say, trying to make yourself relax as much as you can, resting your back against the booth as well, crossing your arms at your chest.

“So,” he starts off, “I am a big fan of Michael Jackson,” he says, looking you dead in the eye. Blinking a few times, you almost awaken your inner Seungkwan (because when you’re around him so much, his characteristics tend to rub off on you. You catch yourself yelling at Mingyu a little too much after you spend some time with the said director, and while you don’t think it’s healthy or fair, you’re not actively trying to stop this behaviour either), with how your consciousness is screaming at your companion that this is not a fun fact at all.

“And…?” you ask, trying to find the fun behind the, very much boring fact.

“I’m… also really scared of Michael Jackson,” he completes, making you even more confused. Amazed, you furrow your brows, trying to make him explain further.

“You see, he’s cool, and I even wanted to be a singer because of him! But when I look at him, he creeps me the fuck out,” he says, over-exaggarating his every word, making you subtly widen the corners of your mouth into a grin, “I had sleep paralysis once, and all I saw at the foot of my bed was Michael Jackson, laughing with that creepy hee-hee laugh, I swear to god I almost peed my pants!”

Staring at him, completely silent, you suddenly break out into a hysterical laughter, imagining the poor boy laying in his bed, not able to move as his biggest idol and his biggest fear all in one is not letting him sleep or move. “Did that fear start with that incident?”

“No!” he laughs, his face totally serious, only making you laugh more. “That’s what made the whole thing even more terrifying!”

Not being able to stop your laughter, clinging to your stomach as it’s starting to hurt a little from how much you’re laughing, something sparks inside of your mind that only adds fuel to the fire that is your uncontrollable contractions. “You know what’s funny? Wanna know what my favourite animal is?”

“What is it?” he asks, calming down only a little as he asks you with widened eyes, trying to puzzle out why you’re suddenly mentioning this as a fun fact.

“A worm,” you say.

Now is his turn to blink at you in confusion mixed with concern, shaking his head. “I mean, that’s strange as it is, but I imagine there’s a punchline to this.”

“Yeah. Wanna know what my biggest fear is?” you say, sounding almost in agony from how the casual conversation is torturing you with uncontrollable laughter.

“What?”

“Worms.” you say, already feeling tears falling down your cheeks, seeing the boy absolutely lose his mind. Silently biting down on his lower lip, trying to battle the laughter that wants to come out of his chest, he snickers.

“That makes zero sense,” he whispers in despair.

“It does! One worm is adorable, but- but multiple! Multiple worms is fucking terrifying, dude!” you mourn out, stumbling over your words, as you hear Seungkwan cut your conversation off with a raised voice, noting that he doesn’t like the way it’s going right now.

“I see Chan and Y/N-ie successfully managed to complete their mission with telling fun facts, from how much fun they’re having, but for the love of god, the rest of us can’t even hear our thoughts right now-”

“Don’t ruin our conversation, thank you very much-”

“Okay then, we’ll see how your acting progresses after this team-building!” Seungkwan announces, looking you sharply in your eyes, noting that, after all, this whole meeting was initiated by your poor acting when you were met with the eyes of Lee Chan in one of the confession scenes in the play.

And suddenly, the smile is wiped off your face as you remember the terror you face every time you read the script.

You’re afraid that no amount of team building will be able to make you feel better about this.

It’s Tuesday, 4:21pm, exactly three weeks before the big premiere. You’ve been rehearsing the play every day, little scrapes and scenes all scattered along the way, being perfected with the help of Seungkwan. Yes, he might be bullied and teased, but his position is still respected. What he says goes, and if your acting isn’t good enough for him, it’s most likely just not good at all. You’ve been rehearsing your scenes with Ning, Soonyoung and Chan the whole month; since this time around, you only got two months to prepare for the premiere– knowing the dialogues by heart by now, remembering them word-by-word, the tone of voice and the way you’re supposed to act them out a muscle memory to you by now; until finally, it’s time to rehearse the parts you didn’t do so well on over and over again, until Seungkwan isn’t satisfied.

“Oh, I merely came back to water the roses. I thought you were with Uncle Jack,” you say, standing on the stage, seeing Chan enter the scene.

“He’s gone to order the dog-cart for me.”

“Oh, is he going to take you for a nice drive?” you ask, tone of voice so oblivious, fitting for the character of Cecily that you’re supposed to act. You pity the poor woman a little, for you feel like if she was born in this century, she wouldn’t survive a day without getting scammed by someone on the street.

“He’s going to send me away.”

“Then have we got to part?” you gasp, frowning.

“I am afraid so. It’s a very painful parting,” Chan proposes, coming close to you. The way he acts is so convincing, looking as natural as ever in his character. Sometimes, you wonder why he’s not in the main cast, but at the same time, you can’t really imagine him in the role of Jack. Algernon suits him much more, with his quick wit and a personality of a cunning fox shining through even when he’s supposed to be somebody else.

“It is always painful to part from people whom one has known for a very brief space of time. The absence of old friends one can endure with equanimity. But even a momentary separation from anyone to whom one has just been introduced is almost unbearable,” you say, despair written all over your features. This quote is almost the most memorable to you from the whole play, for it’s, frankly speaking, not only a rare occurance of smart words coming out of Cecily’s mouth, but also words you can relate to and frown upon in real life.

“I hope, Cecily, I shall not offend you if I state quite frankly and openly that you seem to me to be in every way the visible personification of absolute perfection,” Chan, in the role of Algernon proposes, his voice sweet as honey and his eyes an honest pool of adoration.

Sometimes, it’s hard to piece out acting and reality when you’re around Chan. He always looks so in his element, even when he’s off-stage, that the words uttered out of his mouth make goosebumps appear all over your skin, the confession making you undoubtedly hot in your cheeks. In this moment, no matter how many times you rehearse it over and over again, you always have to remind yourself that it’s just acting. It’s not real.

Although your middle school self would desire for it to be the opposite way.

“I think your frankness does you great credit, Ernest. If you will allow me, I will copy your remarks into my diary,” you say, going over to the table and beginning to write into a small, black-covered diary prepared close to you on stage-left.

“Do you really keep a diary? I’d give anything to look at it. May I?”

“Oh no,” you put your hand over it, trying to keep the contents a secret, “you see, it is simply a very young girl’s record of her own thoughts and impressions, and consequently meant for publication. When it appears in volume form I hope you will order a copy. But pray, Ernest, don’t stop. I delight in taking down from dictation. I have reached ‘absolute perfection’. You can go on. I am quite ready for more.”

Somewhat taken aback, Chan takes a step back and clears his throat. “Ahem! Ahem!”

“Oh, don’t cough, Ernest! When one is dictating one should speak fluently and not cough. Besides, I don’t know how to spell a cough!” you announce, hearing a snicker from the audience, although, not knowing who it came from, since the single light blinds you enough for you to not see.

“Cecily, ever since I first looked upon your wonderful and incomparable beauty, I have dared to love you wildly, passionately, devotedly, hopelessly…” Chan says with undoubted poeticness behind the script, tone of voice big, flying across the space.

“I don’t think that you should tell me that you love me wildly, passionately, devotedly, hopelessly. Hopelessly doesn’t seem to make much sense, does it?” you say, still in the role of Cecily, enough to ruin the moment.

“Cecily!”

“Good!” Seungkwan yells from under the stage, cutting you off. “Now, we’ll skip all the way to the end of the scene, since this looks neat. Starting from….” he mutters, flipping the script in his hands over, trying to find the exact moment he wants to see, “from ‘but was our engagement ever broken off?’!”

Getting to the position on the stage, a few steps to the right, kneeling. You clear your throat before you hear Chan repeat the same replica again, getting ready for the scene you fear so much.

“Of course it was. On the 22nd of last March. You can see the entry if you like,” you say, showing the boy the diary. He looks at it with sparkling eyes, almost making you adore him twice as much as you ever did, before you propose with even more melodramaticness that’s so suited to the role of Cecily, “‘To-day I broke off my engagement with Ernest. I feel it is better to do so. The weather still continues charming.’”

“But why on earth did you break it off? What had I done? I had done nothing at all. Cecily, I am very much hurt indeed to hear you broke it off. Particularly when the weather was so charming,” Chan asks, concerned.

“It would hardly have been a really serious engagement if it hadn’t been broken off at least once. But I forgave you before the week was out,” you say, matter-of-factly.

Chan comes closer to you, your heart speeding up in your chest with the knowledge of the next scene. “What a perfect angel you are, Cecily.”

“You dear, romantic boy,” you say, seeing Chan get even closer to you.

See, no matter the amount of team building, trust, or deepening your friendship with the boy, the image of kissing him on stage scares you. And no, it’s not only because of the blunt incest of the original play that you all chose to ignore for the comedy of it all, it’s also mainly because Lee Chan still makes you nervous all around, and with the idea of everyone watching you kiss the boy you dreamt of in middle school– even though it’s just a fake, theatre kiss– scares you deeply.

Leaning in a calculated way, so your head is shown towards the stage a little more, your lips not really seen to the crowd, you act out the kiss. The awkwardness of it all chases you down, making droplets of sweat appear on the top of your forehead, when Chan refuses to have eye contact with you, making the whole encounter more bearable, but also more nerve-wracking as well. And when you’re finally glad it’s over, leaning away from the one and only kiss in the whole play, satisfied with the outcome, all of the sudden, you hear an agitating, grating voice pierce through your eardrums.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this was absolutely terrible. I felt the awkwardness in my bones! You call yourselves professionals?” Seungkwan hisses, making you instantly roll your eyes– the natural response, really– as he enters the stage. “The kiss was so visibly fake and unnatural that it made me cringe from the depths of my bones!”

“Well, what else are we supposed to do!” Chan yells out, visibly offended as he stands up from his place.

“Learn how to act it more realistically! You can’t just act like this after the good performance you just did!” Seungkwan mutters, throwing his arms in the air.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, not being able to bite through the uncomfort and awkwardness it makes you feel, you shrug with despair.

“Get off my stage. Mingyu! You’re next! And you two,” he says as you stumble down the stairs on the edge of the stage, “have some homework to do.”

Glaring at the director, you only resolve to a sigh. “Ay ay, captain!”

Sitting at the floor in one of the rooms at the back of the theatre– the room that gets used for costumes, leaving you in the mess of various fabric and scrapped ideas– looking at the face of your best friend sitting in front of you on the spare armchair, you realise that this probably wasn’t the best idea.

Lee Chan is sitting next to you, picking at the skin of his cuticles, and you suddenly feel like two children that got scolded and sent to the principal’s office for breaking the rules and running through the hallway. The embarrassment and nervousness in you only makes you sweat– which, in fault, makes you even more nervous and hesitant– when a cough is sent your way by Kim Mingyu, a sign to finally do or say anything that would make the whole situation way less weird.

“Okay, so…” you mutter out, “shall we start?”

Chan’s eyes shoot up towards you, licking his lips as he nods and furrows his brows. “I mean, sure…”

Not moving an inch, staying in your position, the room suddenly goes still and you feel like someone just stopped the video that is currently premiering your life in a live stream right in front of your eyes. It’s like your brain shut off for a second, too overwhelmed with emotion that it lagged mid-movement, when Mingyu kicks your outstretched leg and yelps out in frustration.

“Come on! Do anything, I don’t have the whole day,” he huffs out, rolling his eyes at you two.

“I don’t know how to start!” you yell out, finally speaking the truth now, followed by a nervous laughter that is imitated by the boy sitting next to you, as if to make the whole situation less awkward.

“You two called me here to watch you fake kiss, so do that! I didn’t sign up to sit around in silence, I have better things to do,” Mingyu scowls, making you kick his leg.

“Yeah? Like what?” you bite back, watching him with stern eyes.

“I… I could-”

“Exactly,” you promptly say, pouting out your lower lip as you crack your knuckles and turn your body towards Chan, “now, back to what we’re here for…”

“Do you want to start it with the replica or do we just… go straight to it?” Chan asks, making you shrug.

“I think we can just go for it,” you suggest, “we know the whole script by heart by now, it’s the kiss part that’s making us struggle.”

“Okay, so,” Chan moves a little further back, glancing behind him so he doesn’t move too far back and collide with the stationary that’s situated in the corner of the room, “we’re… in this kind of position… aren’t we?”

Nodding, you feel your heart speeding up with the incoming motion, noticing Chan already leaning towards you. You don’t have much time to prepare yourself for the next step, so when it happens, you naturally move away a little as he leans in, and Mingyu yells out in frustration.

“What was that supposed to be? I thought you were supposed to act like you’re kissing, why’d you move away?!”

“Shut up,” you grunt, feeling heat rising in your cheeks, “I just got surprised.”

“Okay, again!” Mingyu yells out, taking advantage of the position of a director that usually falls on Seungkwan.

Breathing in and out heavily, you move to your original position, letting Chan lead the scene, as he would in the original script anyway. Standing still, the boy leans forward to you, until your faces are only a few centimetres away from each other, your eyes wide open and staring into his. Biting down on your lower lip, trying to surpass the nervous laughter, you already hear Mingyu’s orders from behind.

“Maybe come a little closer to each other? You seem to be too far away from the back.”

Doing as you’re told, your faces inch towards each other a little more, so much your noses almost touch, you stay still in your position.

“Can you lean your head to the side a bit? So it looks more natural! You look like statues right now,” Mingyu chirps, letting you two to move your heads to the side at the same time, making you snicker at the automatic response.

Moving away so you can try again, you get closer to each other and you let Chan lean a little to the right, inching closer. Your noses brush against each other, making droplets of sweat appear all over your lower back, your palms now a bottomless pool of liquid from how nerve-wrecking the whole situation is. Something in the back of your head is screaming at you to either cross the distance between you two or to move away completely, yet, you can’t do either, stuck in the situation that is admittedly, making you a little light-headed.

You wonder if you’d feel this way with anyone else. Thinking of sitting around like this with Soonyoung, your lips almost touching, you almost giggle; you don’t think it would be awkward to have a kissing scene with the skilled senior. The same goes for Mingyu– the awkwardness is just not there, the only thing left is a playful aura that leaves you feeling comfortable and safe.

But with Lee Chan in the position of your love interest, you feel yourself getting weak in your knees and hesitant in all your actions. This is not a replica you can repeat all over and over again alone in your room until you get it right. This is a kissing scene you have to rehearse with the person; an intimate, although fake, situation that leaves you breathless just by seeing him in front of you from so up-close, leaving you to count his eyelashes and roam your eyes all over his face, studying him to the last detail.

You don’t dare to give a name to these feelings. You’d feel like you’re in middle school again.

“Okay, good! I like this one,” Mingyu says, “now, try it again, from the top!”

Letting out the breath you were unknowingly holding in, leaning away from the male, you try to relax your shoulders and make yourself less tense. Awaiting his next move, you see him wipe his hands on his pants, a gesture that makes you relax the tiniest bit, since it means he’s just as nervous as you are about the whole encounter. Watching him take a big breath in and out, he slowly inches towards you again, his face growing closer and closer.

Getting lost in his eyes, the situation almost feels too real. He looks so gentle, so pretty, and as your orbs wander down to his lips– although a little chapped– he seems too inviting to let go. Giving in, you close your eyes, a natural reflex before a kiss, awaiting his lips on yours.

“Yo, why did you close your eyes!” Chan yells out in surprise, laughing at your face.

Too embarrassed to say anything, you just put your hands into your hair, ready to tug at it in frustration as you swing your body back and let yourself lay on the ground of the costume room, grunting.

“You know what? I can’t do this. I don’t care if Seungkwan chases me down a street with a chainsaw because the whole thing looked too awkward to his critical eyes, I am just not doing this anymore!”

Letting your best friend monitor your fake kiss with the boy you used to have a crush on (while unknowingly feeling just the same around him as when you were just twelve) truly wasn’t the best idea after all.

“Everyone, to your places! I don’t want anyone still on the toilet while they’re supposed to be on stage! Ready, set, action!” Seungkwan announces in panic. It’s the last day before the premiere happens– which means it’s time for a costume rehearsal. You’re going to do the whole play, with all stage decorations, lighting and costumes, in the same exact order as the script; just like you would on the actual premiere, just this time, there is no audience.

You only had two months to prepare this time, but you don’t doubt that everyone’s ready. Soonyoung, the main lead, is a professional, after all. Minjeong is a born talent, Chan is a natural– cunning and charming; Ryujin and Ning have enough experience for the roles they were given, Mingyu, although a little messy at times, is perfect for his role of the priest, and you… you are almost 99.9% sure you’ve got down everything except from the cursed kiss scene.

Couldn’t Seungkwan just scratch it from the original script? Wouldn’t it be better if there was no kiss at all? Is it really necessary?

No matter how hard you tried, no matter how many times you and Chan met up in the back rooms with Mingyu, trying to make the kiss look natural; no matter how many times you and Chan hanged out together in the McDonald’s right after, getting food and getting closer, there is still something that’s keeping you from doing it perfectly.

You almost stumble over your words after, or you don’t lean in too close– afraid of falling hard for the boy if you did– or you simply just freeze in your spot, looking stern and awkward. Your only luck is that Seungkwan hasn’t wanted to rehearse the scene since the last time, so he still hasn’t seen the devastating state your acting is in every time you try this specific part out.

You’re 100% sure you’d be kicked out of the play if he saw it. You don’t really know who else he’d cast, since the theatre extracurricular is not the most popular one, but you’re sure he’d find a way. He might as well do that, you know– you’ll save yourself the torture.

Standing in the back, hidden behind the red curtain, Mingyu approaches you and watches the scene. Soonyoung and Minjeong are currently playing their roles of Jack and Gwendolen, the main characters, as they meet for the first time. They look natural, making you notice that this is exactly how you imagined it when you read the script, their acting hitting all the right points you wanted to experience when seeing the play come to life.

“You know, Y/N, in my whole life, I’ve never seen you swoon over a man this much,” Mingyu whispers into your ear, making you furrow your brows at him in confusion.

“What? I’m not into Soonyoung,” you mumble, quiet enough to not be heard by Seungkwan in the audience, or anyone else waiting in the back for their time to shine in the last rehearsal.

“I don’t know if you’re really that dumb or if it’s all just acting,” Mingyu mutters under his breath, his offensive remarks not even making you bat an eye anymore, since gentle bullying is one of your main ways of showing affection to each other.

“I mean, I’m a pretty good actor…” you snicker, making Mingyu roll his eyes at you, smirking.

“Yeah,” he nods, “but you’re doing pretty badly in The importance of being Lee Chan, your latest play,” he teases you. Now is your time to roll your eyes at him and act innocent, maybe even a bit oblivious to his remark.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whisper silently, a matter-of-fact tone in your voice, not meeting eyes with your best friend.

Clicking his tongue, Mingyu only shakes his head at you. “Even the blind can see how you’re head over heels for him again,” he notes, “are you going to ask him out this time around?”

“No, Mingyu,” you huff, “I’m not.”

“Why? You can finally come full circle and fulfil your Chan obsession from middle school-”

“Seriously, Mingyu,” you start, voice full of irony, “I need you to shut the fuck up.”

Snickering at your reply– presumably because he’s right about his assumptions– Mingyu doesn’t speak any further about the topic. You would be stupid to think that he wouldn’t notice. You’ve known each other for so long now that it would be pretty much impossible for him to not notice– he knows you like the palm of his hand. It’s only comfortable to act stupid and like you don’t know what he’s talking about.

It’s your turn in no time, after Soonyoung and Minjeong are done with their replicas with no issue, with a few appearances of Ryujin and Ning in the side roles. When it’s your time to shine, everything goes smoothly.

You act your scenes as Cecily with no problem. The replicas are engraved into your brain, the gestures and expressions rehearsed to the point of no coming back, your interactions with Chan on stage looking natural and smooth. It’s easier to concentrate on the script when he’s not so close to you, but even with the growing proximity of your bodies, you manage to keep your cool.

All up until the kiss scene arises, of course.

As soon as you hear the words: “What a perfect angel you are, Cecily,” uttered out of Lee Chan’s perfectly-shaped lips, your heart speeds up and you’re suddenly weak in your knees again, feeling like a hopeless teenager.

Maybe you should just quit right here and now.

But it’s too late to pull out of your role now, a day before the premiere. So, instead, you continue with the script, just like rehearsed. “You dear, romantic boy,” you say, already noticing Chan getting closer to you as he crouches on the ground next to you.

It’s time for the kiss; his figure leans into you, his head only a little to the right, noses almost touching as your breath hitches in your throat. The kiss is supposed to be short and sweet, and after a few seconds, it’s your turn to pull away and continue on, fully immersed in your role of Cecily. Pulling your fingers through his hair, just like you were told to do in the script, you smile at him as you stand up and speak to him again.

“I hope your hair curls naturally, does it?” you ask.

“Yes, darling,” Chan– Algernon replies, nodding, “with a little help from others.”

Relaxing your shoulders, glad the torture is finally over and the kiss scene is behind you, you’re surprised to be able to continue with no loud comments from the director himself, cursing you for acting so strangely and unrealistically. It almost hits you with a wave of uncontrollable euphoria, thinking you finally did it; but when you glance into the audience and meet eyes with Boo Seungkwan, his expression looks like he was just forced to drink a full jar of pickle juice.

You don’t need him to scream at you in agony again. You know you did badly even without his comments.

Doing your makeup in the back room, illuminated by the ugly yellow lights stacked around the mirror of the stationary, much like in Hollywood movies, your heart is beating loudly against your ribcage. Smearing lip gloss over your lips, you catch notice of Ning sitting next to you on one of the small folding chairs, visibly hyperventilating.

“So many people came!” she yelps out. “I saw a glimpse when I was passing to the back rooms and I think the whole theatre is full! This has never happened before!”

“I’m pretty sure Soonyoung told all his other mates to come, since it’s his last play,” Mingyu mumbles from the sofa situated in the very middle of the room, already in his costume and ready for the premiere.

“That means Choi Seungcheol is here?” Ryujin gasps, turning around on the little stool in front of the second stationary, drawing wrinkles onto her face.

“Most likely,” Mingyu nods, “I saw Yoon Jeonghan in the back row, he’s probably somewhere there with him.”

“For fuck’s sake!” Ryujin cries, throwing the little makeup brush onto the table. “Choi Seungcheol is here and I have to look like a fucking grandma!”

Snickering from beside her, Minjeong adds more blush to her cheeks– courtesy of the main role– earning herself a nudge to her ribs from her frowning friend. “You’re only laughing ‘cause you’re hot as fuck! Imagine how I feel!”

Rolling your eyes at the girls, you screw the applicator of the lip gloss back on, done with your makeup. Your blush is a little more dramatic than usual, but it’s important to over-exaggerate both your makeup and your expressions when you’re on stage, so they’re seen even by the audience sitting in the very back row. Standing up from the folding chair, you take your designated place next to Mingyu on the dusty, old sofa and fold your arms on your chest, careful not to crease your costume– a light orange dress with ruffled sleeves that goes up to your knees; a modest look for the dearest Cecily.

The door opens, and in walks the other main star of the whole evening. Lee Chan bashfully closes the door behind him as he feels the eyes of everyone on him– presumably because of the mess that’s going on at the top of his head.

“Why does your hair look like Shin ramen?” Ning asks, grinning to herself as the boy slungs himself across the dressing room, sighing.

“Look, I was told to sleep with hair curlers in, because, quoting, ‘Algernon is supposed to have luscious, curly hair’, but then I took them out and now I look like an idiot,” he mutters, scowling as he passes by his own reflection in one of the mirrors, making the whole room burst out in laughter.

“Come here, you dummy,” you snicker, watching as he walks over to you. Holding out your hand, you notice him leaning down so you can do something about it as you run your fingers through the tight curls, making them more loose and presentable in front of the audience.

As soon as you’re done and Chan is happy with the way he looks in the mirror, he looks at you as if you were a magician, mouth agape in surprise.

“You have to brush them out a little, you know,” you explain, making the boy’s eyes light up like lightbulbs as he nods in understatement.

“Oh so that’s how it works!” he gasps.

Looking at the boy in front of you, you almost squeak out in adoration. He looks extra adorable with his hair in loose waves, and the simple outfit– a tan, linen button-down tucked into simple black pants makes his figure look insanely attractive. His lips are a little glossy and there’s a glint of excitement in his eyes– presumably from the adrenaline from the incoming play. There’s just something about him that makes your heart and soul scream his name.

You’ve never felt this way about anyone else. That’s the importance of Lee Chan in your life, I guess.

“Everyone!” Seungkwan claps his hands together as he enters the dressing room, followed by Soonyoung already dressed in his costume, stage-ready. “We’re starting in 5 minutes! 5 minutes, I repeat. Hope you’re all ready, get to your places!”

His voice resonates through the small space, his body already turning around to escape the room, before he quite literally turns on his heel and looks at everyone again. “Break a leg, everyone! I know you’ll do great. Don’t be nervous and have fun!” This is one of the rare times when Seungkwan’s caring and enthusiastic side comes out– you think he’s just sappy because the end of an era is coming to an end. You almost pout and run to hug him, when he snaps into his usual state and turns around to look at everyone once again, for the last time. “But don’t you dare anyone fuck it up. I’ll kill you if you do.”

The whole room goes into a frantic furry. Even the calmest ones get more and more nervous, the adrenaline finally kicking in everyone’s blood system. Pacing around, gathering the last props, checking themselves out in the mirror for the last time, the dressing room empties itself out as the lights go out on the stage, signalling the beginning of the play. Standing around backstage, hidden by the curtains, a couple of nervous bodies swing from side to side in a nervous manner, awaiting their moment to step on the stage and act.

Glancing out of the curtain, you notice the theatre full– just like Ning mentioned. It’s a surprise, because usually, there’s a few rows empty, and some places in between the seats are vacant. You guess Soonyoung really bribed his friends and classmates to come. Something about the full audience makes you desire to do well.

It’s like you have to prove yourself in front of everyone. All attention will be on you, over a hundred hungry eyes watching your every move on the stage. You can’t fuck it up– you’d be too embarrassed to go on with your life if you did.

Suddenly, there’s a light shining down in the middle of the stage, Chan and Renjun– the boy they casted to play Lane at the last minute– walk out and begin the first act.

Only a few moments pass before Soonyoung enters in his role of Jack, as the two of them converse and start the main plot line. Watching the scene unfold in front of your eyes, as if you haven’t read the script a thousand times before and haven’t seen the rehearsals for two months straight, you enjoy every second of one of the most famous plays by Oscar Wilde in your extracurricular’s take.

The scenes unfold right in front of your very eyes, the characters on the stage switch around, letting you enter and act out your own replicas, accompanied by Ning in the role of Miss Prism. You can’t say you feel as if you were one with your character, but you definitely had fun with acting it. It’s not every day you get such a peculiar vocabulary and such a dainty character to play, after all.

Escaping the stage for a moment, feeling out of breath, you find yourself standing backstage with Chan by your side, the mortal scene coming to you both. Looking over at him, seeing the curve of his nose and the edge of his jaw, noticing the way his hair falls into his face and the gentle hint of a smile playing with his lips, your mind operates on autopilot as you are reminded with Seungkwan’s warning in the dressing room– you must not fuck this up.

“Chan?”

“Hm?”

“Kiss me for real this time,” you say, seeing the boy snap his head towards you, confusion written all over his face.

“What?”

“In the next scene. Kiss me for real,” you mumble, listening to the last replica uttered out of Soonyoung’s mouth, making you and Chan hurriedly enter the stage, not leaving him any time to ask you any further questions about your sudden request.

Maybe you were being selfish. Maybe you just wanted to look good on stage, maybe you just really wanted to do well. Or maybe…. Maybe you just selfishly wanted a reason to kiss him for real this time. The endless temptation and tension you felt when your faces were so close was slowly driving you insane, and this was your last opportunity to do something about it before you and Chan lose contact again after the premiere.

You wanted to kiss him at least once.

The second act is long before the actual kiss happens, and you’re able to kick it out of your mind for the time being. Flowing through the replicas with ease and some good old-fashioned theatrical dramaticness, you enjoy yourself before the moment finally comes again.

This time, you’ll make it believable. Boo Seungkwan can count on that.

“What a perfect angel you are, Cecily.”

The cue was told. It makes your heart speed up again, much like every single time, the nerves pooling in the palms of your hands.

“You dear, romantic boy,” you reply. Chan gets closer to you, leaning in. You can see him hesitate, you almost hear your own words resonating through his head over and over again, so loud that everyone in the whole room can hear, before he looks at your lips for a mere second, copying his previous act.

Just as you two rehearsed, his head leans a bit to the right, his palm holds the apple of your cheek, his nose nudges yours, before he takes the next step and solidifies the realisticness of the scene with a real kiss, pressing his lips against yours, your lipgloss mixing with the lipbalm you saw him put on in the dressing room before you left.

The kiss is short, just like the script said it should be, but it’s long enough for you to take in every single detail. The way his lips moved against yours with gentleness, almost a tender-like moment making you forget about your surroundings for a minute. You closed your eyes again this time; yet, he didn’t make fun of you like he did when Mingyu was around. He tasted of minty toothpaste and the green tea candy you keep in a bowl in the dressing room. Your knees go weak again– but now, it happened rightfully.

When he pulls away and his hand slowly regresses from your cheek, you find it in you to push through the scene, running your fingers through his hair much like you did a few minutes ago in the back.

“I hope your hair curls naturally, does it?” you ask.

“Yes, darling,” he replies, an undeniable hue of pink reaching the tips of his ears in a noticable, yet subtle blush, “with a little help from others.”

The rest of the play comes by like a flash, the script written in a way where there is no time for you to get bored while watching the actors do their job. Before you notice it, the very last part of the whole play happens, and you’re all standing on the stage, presenting the ending of your Oscar Wilde adaptation.

“Lætitia!” Mingyu yells out, embracing Ning- Miss Prism in a hug.

“Frederick! At last!” she enthusiastically replies, beaming in the reflectors.

“Cecily!” Now is Chan’s turn to embrace you, his arms around you holding you closer than before, his grip stronger than in the last rehearsal. You feel the ending of the play right in front of you, happy to be over with everything so you can take off your makeup and run with everyone to McDonald’s to celebrate.

“Gwendolen! At last!” Soonyoung cheers, embracing Minjeong in the perfect role of Gwendolen.

“My nephew, you seem to be displaying signs of triviality,” Ryujin talks to Soonyoung- Jack, as the whole play comes full circle and finishes off with the name of the play.

“On the contrary, Aunt Augusta, I’ve now realised for the first time in my life the vital Importance of Being Earnest.”

And as the curtain falls and the audience starts cheering, it’s your time to run out, beaming in the brightest light of the reflectors that blind you, bowing until there’s no one else clapping in the whole theatre. Turning to all sides, noticing Chan and Minjeong both clasping your hands with theirs as you bow, the adrenaline doesn’t seem to wear off. The grin on your face is starting to hurt a little when Soonyoung’s friends cheer the loudest in the whole theatre, making you shake your head in disbelief at the precious friendship they have.

Running backstage after the ruckus is over, someone gets a hold of your hand again, making you turn around to see Lee Chan basking in full glory, smiling at you with a nervous smile.

“This is for you,” he says, offering you a bouquet of flowers, “I’m not really sure who it was for, but someone threw it on the stage so I… stole it…” he mumbles, nervously scratching the back of his neck, making you grin.

“Thank you,” you say, smelling the tall mix of magnolia flowers, admiring the vibrancy of the colours complementing in the bouquet.

“And I was thinking if you… if you wanted to go out with me?” he suggests.

His proposition almost makes you choke on your own spit, heat rising to your cheeks again, a nervous smile mirroring your lips as you mutter out an almost incoherent response. “We’re… we’re going to McDonald’s now with everyone, so.. I don’t…”

“I meant like… after. Some other day,” he explains, making you mentally facepalm at the way you replied, embarrassing yourself in the process.

“Oh,” you nod, “well… Yeah. Sure. I’d like that.”

“Okay, sweet!” he grins, giving you a quick side-hug with one arm, before he runs further backstage, presumably to get his makeup off and change so the whole group can go to a make-shift afterparty at the nearest McDonald’s.

Standing there, still, shocked by the way things turned out, you meet eyes with Mingyu that suggestively wiggles his eyebrows at you as he passes you by, seemingly to say that he saw the kiss from where he was standing and that you two will talk about it as soon as you’re able to. Smiling to yourself, feeling a little pathetic from how giddy you are on the inside, you wonder if the boy himself realises the importance of Lee Chan in your life.

You won’t admit it to him just yet, but you did just give him your first kiss, after all.

The play and before the scene she tells him kiss me for real this time and he hesitates and she does it and he invites her out after

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peachybun-bun · 2 years

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New Toy

lee chan (dino) x female reader

this is smut (minors dni).

there are words (apprx. 770 of them)

WARNINGS: female masturbation, sex toy, unprotected sex, biting, light choking

a/n: remember to reblog and let us know what you think. read at your own risk. thanks for reading. goodnight.

A moan spills from your lips as you circle the tip of your new vibrator around your clit. It is only on the lowest setting, but it is still enough to make you clench around nothing. You bite your lip as you slowly push it in you, your fingers on your other hand holding yourself open. Another moan escapes you as you close your eyes, and you slide your one foot up so it’s flat on the mattress.

Your breathing gets quicker as you can feel the tension build within you, unable to stop the moans and sighs that leave you. You move the toy in and out of you, managing to hit your g-spot, as your fingers tease your clit. If you could think properly, you’d be surprised by how fast you are nearing an orgasm, but the haze of your high clouds your brain.

It’s not too much longer before your orgasm hits you, waves of pleasure washing over you as you ride out your high. You pull the toy from you before you hit the point of overstimulation, breathing hard as you turn it off and drape your arm over your eyes as you try to calm down.

“Fuck.”

You let out a yelp and throw your vibrator towards the wall in surprise at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice. You did not hear him enter the apartment, let alone see him standing there as you masturbated. You glance sheepishly at your toy, before back at him, trying to get yourself to calm down. “What the hell, Chan?” you demand, narrowing your eyes at him.

Chan smirks and palms himself over his jeans, shaking his head a little. “That was hot. Glad I caught the grand finale,” he teases as he steps into the room.

You roll your eyes and make a move to get off the bed. “What are you doing home? I thought you were out until late?” you ask as you stand.

He tips his head to the side as he watches you pick up your toy and set it on the nightstand, his smirk only growing wider as his eyes scan your naked body. “They are letting us have a couple hours for dinner, and I thought I’d come home to eat with you… but uh… now I have other plans,” he replies as he meets your eyes.

“So you thought watching me like a creep was the best course of action?”

He takes a step closer to you and shrugs one shoulder. “I didn’t want to interrupt your fun.” He pauses as he glances at the toy. “New?” he asks.

You smirk back at him and nod, plopping back down onto the bed. “Mhm. Picked it up this morning while I was shopping,” you reply as you scooch back to the pillows.

Chan pulls in a quick breath as he watches you, before reaching for your ankle. “I can’t wait to try it out with you later,” he tells you, his voice dropping an octave as he tugs you back towards him.

You let out a squeak and laugh as he starts stripping, sitting up a little to help him out of his pants. “Why not now?”

He wraps an arm around your waist and carries you back on the bed as he crawls on, lowering his body against yours. “Because right now, I want my cock in you. I want to be the one to make you moan,” he whispers, before his lips claim yours.

You slide your arms around his neck as you return the kiss, tongues meeting between your lips as you grip his hair to hold him to you. You can feel his hard-on poking your thigh, and you roll your hips up against him. A smirk tugs at your lips as he moans into your mouth, and you roll your hips again.

“Fuck,” he mutters against your lips, reaching between you two. He lines himself up with your entrance and pushes in, nipping your neck lightly as he feels you clench around him. “Your new toy doesn’t feel as good as me, does it?” he nearly growls into your ear.

“No, but it does vibrate, so it comes close,” you tease, knowing it is just going to rile him up.

And you’re right. His teeth sink into your shoulder, sending a jolt of pleasure through you, and he snaps his hips to meet yours roughly. He lifts himself up on one arm so he can see you better, reaching up to lightly wrap his other hand around your throat. “Baby, nothing comes close to how good I can make you feel.”

#seventeen smut #svt smut #lee chan smut #dino smut #chan smut #seventeen drabble #svt drabble #lee chan drabble #dino drabble #seventeen #svt #lee chan #dino

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hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 1 year

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I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

So, I recently watched the Inside Seventeen video where Seungkwan, Vernon and Dino were interacting with children and, I want to die. Just imagine Dino coming home afterwards still feeling so soft and so endeared by those children. Then he sees you laying on the couch, seemingly mindlessly scrolling through your phone on your back, your shorts clinging to your thighs rather invitingly and a sliver of your hip and stomach being exposed due to your sweater riding up. The urge to see you filled with his cum and, swollen with his child hits him like a punch to the gut. He wants nothing more than a little person with his eyes and your smile in that moment. You've spoken about children before, the conversation being nothing new but, the desire to breed you has never felt quite this visceral before. Dino makes his way over to you and before you can even utter a greeting, he pulls you into a heated kiss with one of his hands cupping your face and the other gripping your hip tightly.

#why would i do this to myself?#the dino brainrot is very real #that video fucked me up so hard #don't be surprised if you see me writing about vernon next lol #down horrendous for lee chan #seventeen smut #seventeen #dino smut #lee chan smut #chan smut #dino #dino seventeen #seventeen dino #seventeen dino smut #dino seventeen smut #we as a society need to lust after dino more imo #seventeen drabble #dino drabble #lee chan drabble

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ahlovelightaflame · 8 months

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Your Eyes ~ *Lee Chan*

Summary: What’s the one thing Chan loves about you the most? Why of course it’s your eyes! They’re the most beautiful thing in the universe to him!

Pairing: Lee Chan X G/N!Reader

Genre: Fluffy Drabble

Word Count: 463

Warning: N/A

Masterlist

Taglist: @foxwinter

If there was one thing Chan loved about you, it was how your eyes would sparkle. No matter what they were alway glittering to him. They looked like the night sky winking at him. He honestly could get lost in your eyes.

Every so often while you’re talking, he simply stares in your eyes. To him, they contain the entire universe and all of your deepest, darkest secrets. He just stares and stares until you start whining about how he’s not even listening to you. Then he has to buy you a treat to make up for it, but it’s worth it just so he can continue gazing into your eyes.

It was your eyes that caught Chan’s attention at first. He was walking back from a café with some of his friends while you were heading in. As soon as his eyes locked with yours, all he could do was stop and stare. You smiled and waved before continuing on your way. He got teased nonstop the rest of the day from all of his friends, but he managed to see you the next day and get your number, so it was okay.

Since that day, his friends would constantly torment him by saying he was whipped and obsessed with you. Now, Chan wouldn’t go that far. He just really liked being with you. Whether it be texting you during the day, calling you late at night, or even finding rare moments to be with you in person; he loved it all. You were so easy to talk to and so funny as well. In his eyes. You were perfect and he was determined to not let you go.

Almost a year after meeting you, he finally worked up the courage to ask you out. He had called you, locked in his room so no one would disturb him. He was beyond nervous to talk to you, but when you also confessed your feelings for him as well, all those worries flew out the window.

Now he gets to stare into your eyes as often as he likes. Whether it’s while the two of you are on dates, or just hanging out. Any chance he can get lost in your eyes, he will. Sometimes you find it endearing, as it shows how much he loves you. Other times, it’s annoying because it means he’s really not paying that much attention to you. Nevertheless, you wouldn’t change him for the world.

“Chan, are you even listening to me?”

“Of course I am!”

“Oh yeah? What did I say?”

“Your eyes sparkle like little stars in the night sky in this lighting. Can I take a picture of you please?”

“Chan!”

“Sorry! But can I still take a picture of you?”

“Oh I suppose.”

#Seventeen #Seventeen Fanfiction #Seventeen Drabble #KPop #KPop Fanfiction #KPop Drabble #Carat #Lee Chan #Lee Chan X Reader #Lee Chan Fanfiction #Lee Chan Drabble #Lee Chan Fluff #Dino #Dino X Reader #Dino Fanfiction #Dino Drabble #Dino Fluff #Drabble #Fluff

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bitchlessdino · 2 years

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You swear you’ve slept with the same man every night for the past month only to wake up alone the following morning. No matter what route you take during the day, whatever place you ended up in the evening, he’d be there.

You’d feel the smooth surface of his hellishly hot skin, burning you with every touch. His lips, moisturized and full, claim your lips sinfully so, hardly an ounce of remorse bruising them red and swollen. His strong arms and hands grip you harshly, not caring about the pain you’d feel. He got what he wanted and at the moment as did you, repeatedly ever single night no matter what phase of the moon.

His teeth glint in the pitch black of the night sky, baring his teeth before it clashes with your skin. You clutch his bare upper body, panting loudly and heavily, dragging your hand over his toned abdomen and tracing alone the valley of his muscles. His chuckles erupts goosebumps on your arms, fucking you raw deeper and faster, your mewls escaping you like a feral animal.

His full length coated to the brim with your arousal and he pulls out of your warmth, dripping it to the sheets of your bed. He’d coo at you, calling you terms of endearment such as the follow “pretty whore” and “my perfect little cumcloth.” How they would churn your stomach, and make you feel alive yet weak all at once. And when you’re both spent, he brings up the level of hell he’s from. He mentions there’s place for you. He implies you’re perfect there for him. How you’d sate his hunger all to easily with desperation to find yourself purpose matches his tastes impeccably. Your soul was perfect to feast on.

You say you aren’t sure you’re ready, but when the day comes you want him to show you no mercy, that you’re ready to complete move on then. He smiles at this, fully intending to keep good on his promise, and proceeds to fill you up every night the same way, leaving you to wake up the same way every morning, until he doesn’t.

One morning you lie away with him still there, staring back at you in the nude as if he’s determining something. That was strange, when did incubi learned to practice judgement and hesitancy? You ask him why he was still here and he proceeds to respond with “you know why, the real question is if you’re ready.”

You collect your thoughts upon waking up, putting the pieces together to finally regain your full consciousness and confirm. You agreed to follow him. The hell spawn almost shoots an expression of pity, regret even, but does the implications of his duties. He engorges on you the last time in this world, filling you to your hearts desires. He appreciates every scar, every wrinkle, every flaw you hate to see in the mirror. Regardless of all of it, to Chan, the incubus, you were truly perfect.

He looks past what you are, what you’ve become, and what led you here, summoning a demon of all people, he just is content you’re here with him, accepting him. His last kiss on your lips is surprisingly delicate, much like the lingering purity of your human body, soon to be disposed of and used as fuel for him and where he was birthed from…

In the underworld, where he, and now you, belong. Til eternity do you part.

#Dino smut #lee Chan smut #Chan smut #seventeen smut #seventeen drabbles #Dino #seventeen #lee Chan #dino drabble #lee Chan drabble #seventeen chan #seventeen dino #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios

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soobnny · 4 months

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stolen kisses with stray kids — established relationship, extreme fluff, some might be suggestive ? (2.0k words)

moments they steal a kiss & where they do it

chan. during movie night when everyone’s asleep

it’s a little scandalous, they way he reaches for your lips while his friends are asleep during one of your movie nights.

it’s around 2am, and the only reason you’re still awake is because chan’s being extra clingy with the way he squeezes your waist, running his cold hand under your shirt.

how can anyone expect him to fall asleep though? not when you’re so close to him, and he can smell your shampoo, and feel your steady breathing.

“sleepy.” you mumble, grabbing the ends of your shared blanket that jisung had stolen most of hours ago. chan had to excuse himself midway through your third movie to get you a new one.

“hmm.” he hums in response, nuzzling his nose against your hair, hands planting themselves on your bare waist. “is my baby sleepy?”

“mhm.” chan can’t help but grin down at you, disentangling his head from your hair for a moment to look at you—your sleepy smile and drooping eyes. how could he not press his lips on yours when you’re looking at him like that?

it feels like a shot of espresso, and he would’ve gone in for another one had you not fallen asleep, head buried in his neck and arms gripping his shirt.

minho. at the dance practice room while waiting for everyone else to arrive

minho’s arms are immediately locked around your torso the minute you walk into your university’s dance practice room. your boyfriend had rented it out for the evening with his friends to practice their final project, and you’d come with dinner and your support.

“5 minutes.” he whispers with a sinister grin, and you’re about to question what he meant when he goes straight in for your lips. ah, five minutes before his friends get here.

his lips aren’t shy at all. you can feel him growing more desperate as seconds pass, and you don’t know what’s gotten into your boyfriend for him to be kissing you like this, but you don’t exactly have any complaints.

minho kisses up your jaw, pulling your hips closer to his before planting his lips back on yours. and you have to admit, it’s a little attractive to catch a glimpse of the way he’s holding you and the way he’s kissing you from the dance studio’s big fucking mirror.

you don’t even realize how much time had passed. everything felt like a blur with the way your boyfriend was kissing you. but before you know it, there are knocks on the door and minho is breathing heavily against your neck.

he presses one last final kiss on your lips before he’s pulling away from the tight grip he’d placed you in earlier. it’s impressive, the way he immediately switches to a more composed version of himself—unlocking the doors and welcoming his friends inside. the smile on his face is gone, and it makes your face heat up to think that they have no idea what had happened just five minutes before they walked into the studio.

changbin. in the gym room against the lockers

“babe, i have the water bottle you’d left—oh!”

changbin gives you no warning when he kisses you against the lockers of his condominium’s gym. you suppose it’s because he’s the only one there. despite his appearance, your boyfriend is usually shy when it comes to public displays of affection.

it doesn’t help that he has a very visible afterglow after his workout session, sheen of sweat on his arms and forehead, and it really is hard to look away—well, it would’ve been hard if you weren’t so preoccupied with the way he was kissing you. it’s slow, and very very hot because it’s so uncharacteristic of your boyfriend to be kissing you like this where anyone could walk in on you. he lets his lips linger for a little longer than your usual kisses, completely taking away your breath.

when he pulls away, he’s still staring at your lips, and you can see a soft smile playing on his. he sends you another peck on the lips before he’s grabbing at the water bottle in your hand.

“thanks baby.” he downs the water in one chug, arms flexing and playing into the fabric of the top he’s wearing. you’re still against the lockers, where he’d pushed you against earlier, and his free arm is still locking you in place. you feel akin to a schoolgirl, with her crush so close.

the thought of him kissing you again like this has you mentally kicking your feet.

hyunjin. in the art studio’s closet where they keep the supplies

he kisses you in the university’s art studio closet—where they keep the supplies. you’d only meant to help hyunjin clean up, but you find yourself locked between his arms with his lips on yours. maybe it’s something about how your boyfriend is much more romantic when he’s in his artist’s mindset, but he refuses to pull away.

you don’t know he’d spent hours prior trying to paint even just a fraction of how he feels about you on the canvas. you were only able to catch a glimpse of vivid colors, the same that’s staining his hands and clinging to his skin.

hyunjin only pulls away when he accidentally knocks down a stool in the cramped space, pulling away and shyly crinkling his nose. it’s a direct contrast to how rough he’d been, hands roaming every possible inch of your face and neck and waist.

when you step outside, you catch your reflection in the studio’s big studio. the sight makes your cheeks heat up embarrassingly, and hyunjin has to apologize for caking your face with the paint that had been on his hands prior to stealing your lips in that closet.

jisung. at the dorm room while his roommate is away

can someone really blame him? you just looked so kissable with your pouty lips and your furrowed eyebrows. when you’d finally succumbed to studying for the night, jisung wastes no time, catching your lips in his.

he’d give anything to continue pressing his lips into yours for the entirety of his life.

and if not for the rest of his life, then at least for a couple more hours while the sun is still up — and while felix (his roommate) is very much not in their dorm yet.

jisung smiles at you when you pull away—that dumb smile he always gives you when he’s not quite done kissing you yet. he has his hands firmly planted on your hips, and his legs are outstretched so you’re comfortable on his lap.

you have a feeling you’ll leave his dorm with a flushed face and swollen lips. you hope felix isn’t on his way home anytime soon.

felix. while baking seungmin’s birthday cake, everytime jisung exits the kitchen

in his dorm’s mini kitchen while the three of you with jisung bake seungmin’s birthday cake. he only ever does it when his roommate is too distracted with other things like what he should get the younger boy—would a gag gift of a stuffed penis be enough to torment seungmin? you can hear him clearly from the living room, calling out to ask you for advice, but felix stands firm on wanting to kiss you until you can’t breathe.

“felix, stop! jisung might walk in on us.” though you’re telling him to stop, it’s a little hard to convince your boyfriend when you’re giggling and kissing him back.

who could blame felix though? how can he not kiss you when there’s frosting on your lips from decorating the cake? and what better way to clean it than kissing it off?

he has you lifted up on the counter, stood between your legs with his hands on your thighs. you’d shiver once in a while, it can’t be helped when the boy’s running his cold hands up and down your bare skin, hiking your shirt up just a little bit.

and he’s mastered the art of excuses at this point, always having something to say when jisung walks into the kitchen and suspiciously eyes the both of you because why are your lips the same color as the extra frosting.

though, on his hundredth attempt at secretly kissing you, jisung walks right in and immediately screams “my eyes!” as he runs away with his palms covering his eyes.

seungmin. against the bookshelves of the library

“kiss me.” it feels wrong coming out of his lips. your goody two shoes, straight a’s boyfriend, whispering for you to kiss him in the library.

seungmin’s taking advantage of the fact that nobody ever stays at the university’s library past 12am, not when exam seasons are far off. he had dragged you here earlier, something about a project, and with nothing better to do, you’d thought you would accompany him.

you’d expected him to bury his face in his laptop as usual, square glasses on his concentrated face. you didn’t expect to be making out with him against the bookshelves of the library—somewhere by the anatomy section, you don’t even remember anymore.

it’s like he prepared for this too, knowing exactly where you won’t be caught. he has you between his arms, and he ghosts your face terribly close to his.

it really isn’t difficult to admit that seungmin is wildly attractive like this. while you loved your nerdy boyfriend, something about him with his messy hair and his eyeglasses discarded has you breathing erratically.

his lips immediately catch yours when you lean forward to kiss him. it’s a little messy, but you give into it, and into his tongue that’s swiping on your bottom lip. you don’t know what had warranted this, but it definitely isn’t unwelcomed.

you only pull away when you hear the librarian surveying the lines of shelves, noticing that you and seungmin had been gone a little too long. it really isn’t that hard to find a book.

when you come back to your corner table, seungmin doesn’t say anything. his glasses are back on his frame, but it’s hard to miss his smirk and the way he’s running his tongue over his lips once in a while.

jeongin. under the school’s staircase in between class

jeongin loves to steal kisses in between classes. he’d kiss you anywhere, behind your department’s building, inside an empty classroom, anywhere with no prying eyes.

today, it’s under your school’s staircase. he kisses you sweetly, almost romantic. the kind of kiss that tells you he misses you despite it only being a few hours since you last saw each other.

he kisses you over and over in between quiet conversation about how your class went—how was that quiz you had? was it a boring one? he loves listening to you talk, and he loves interrupting you once in a while to place a short peck on your lips. it’s usually when you say your ‘w’s or any letter that puckers your lips up.

similarly, you ask him questions about his class—was his teacher a little less shitty today? did he finish that group project he’d spent many late hours on? what’s on his mind and why is he looking at you like that?

“you.” he says with a smug smile, and it makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. you stare at each other for a while, but jeongin can only go so long without your lips on his so he grabs your chin with his fingers and pulls you gently to place his lips on yours one last time.

the last kisses always last longer, when he knows he’s running out of time, and your next class is looming around the corner. and your boyfriend always knows how to make it count.

“see you on your next break, babe.”

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seungminhour · 5 months

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┌──── -ˏˋ 📱 ˎˊ-

└➤ how bf!skz would react to you not calling them by a nickname / term of endearment

hyung line | maknae line

◞✩ pairing : bf!skz x gn!reader

◞✩ contains : humor, fluff, swearing, just general shenanigans

◞✩ notes : thank you guys sm for 500 followers 🥹 i’m gonna try to finish a bunch of my drafts to celebrate 🫶

01. bang chan.

02. lee minho.

03. seo changbin.

04. hwang hyunjin.

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fluffylino · 5 months

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seungmin being drunk on eating you out.

pussy drunk seungmin who takes every chance he gets to taste you. his eyes getting all sparkly and big when you deny him.

you'd remember how it had all started when he wanted to try out face sitting. at first being very hesitant until he actually got the feeling.

the feeling of not being able to breathe. your pussy leaking all over his mouth and nose.

had he really been missing out on the good stuff? how could he let it all go to waste?

he doesn't even want to cum, he just wants to eat you out and make you cum. he'll make you cum over and over again until you actually have to tug a handful of his hair to pull him back.

he's the type to walk in behind you when your leaning against the counter.

an innocent smile on his face and his not so innocent hand slipping down your pants. before you can even utter another word, he's on his knees. fingers playfully tugging at the waistband of your panties.

sometimes you'd wake up feeling completely dazed. an unexplainable sensation. but its all explainable when you see his head between your legs. face buried in your cunt. seungmin doesn't even try to hide how desperate he is.

you worry about how he'd breath when you can feel his nose rubbing against your clit harshly while his tongue is all over the place. licking you completely. swallowing whatever he can take.

"seungmin..hah-" you'd whine, closing your thighs around his head. he'd moan, panting against you. he'd want you to do that. so he could get breathless and only smell your sex. your essence. seungmin wants you to push his mouth against your cunt. use him for your pleasure. make him your toy. your bitch.

"what is this for?"

seungmin smiled, unbuckling the thick collar and fastening it around his neck. 'puppy engraved into the light blue collar in gold.

"so you can control my pace"

by now you had figured he knew your pussy from the inside and out. his tongue finding all your spots in quick successions.

other times he'd make a peace sign and stick his tongue through it playfully when y'all were in public. just to tease you.

"i just don't understand how people can be so stupid" you frustratedly, holding your head in your hands. today was a bad day. everything was pissing you off.

"couldn't you wait until i was done ranting?" you sighed out airily. looking at the boy who was sitting on his knees, lazily mouthing at your heat. he locked eyes with you, obviously not hearing what you asked him.

"kim seungmin." you hissed out, tugging the chain that was attached to his collar.

he jerked forward, a whiny 'sorry' leaving him.

#fluffylino works #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz drabbles #kim seungmin hard hours #kim seungmin smut #seungmin smut #kim seungmin imagines #seungmin imagines #puppy seungmin #sub!seungmin #sub!stray kids #sub seungmin #pussy drunk seungmin #bang chan smut #hwang hyunjin smut #lee minho smut

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tasteracha · 7 months

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kinktober - day thirteen

kink: camcorder with minho ft. chan

warnings: smut - MINORS DNI. threesome (kind of), chan is a perv, afab!reader, teensy bit of manipulation

chan didn’t think this would happen when he asked minho to borrow his camcorder a couple days ago - all he wanted was to record some practice videos to upload to youtube. he didn’t think before he took it, didn’t think before he looked through minho’s old footage of his dancing that he keeps for memories, didn’t think before watching what he watched.

it was a video of you. and minho.

in his defense, the storage on the memory card was almost full and chan was just looking for something that could be deleted to free up space - and wouldn’t minho check the storage to see if there was anything he didn’t want chan seeing first? if anything, this is minho’s fault.

sure, it’s minho’s fault that chan is one second away from jerking off to the sight of you getting fucked into oblivion by his best friend, the grainy pixels leaving little to nothing to his imagination. your moans sound tinny from the low quality speakers, minho’s grunts accenting the sounds coming from your mouth as he fucks you up against the studio mirrors. your breath is fogging up from where your face is pressed against the glass, sweaty handprints from the both of you staining the surface. minho better have cleaned those mirrors after that, chan’s delirious mind supplies as he continues watching the footage he should have turned off minutes ago.

the video is from the same angle as their dance practices, the same walls on display and oh fuck chan doesn’t think he’s been this hard in his entire life. that’s the room that he dances in, he’s leaned up against that exact mirror, panting and overexerted, he’s been yelled at by minho for messing up the choreography in that exact place.

he tries. he tries so hard to forget what he saw, to get the image of you shaking apart when you came out of his head. to stop thinking about the way your skin went white from where minho was gripping it. to restrain from gripping his cock in his hand under his blanket with his eyes screwed shut and the symphony of your combined noises playing in his head like a song he couldn’t get off of repeat.

but how could he when he had to go back into that rehearsal room just a few days later to practice? what excuse could he possibly give his members about why he wanted to switch rooms from this one? the room that’s full of their most precious memories, full of laughter and tears and piles of sweaty cuddles on the floor? no, he couldn’t. what he could do was avoid that spot like it was poisonous, standing on the farthest edge of the room after practice was over, chugging water and thinking about how you both have probably fucked on the floor there, or those couches, or by the closet door.

he doesn’t notice you at first, sliding into the room to hand minho a cold water bottle and press a kiss to his cheek. the other members were slowly trickling out, passing tired greetings to you as they shuffled past, eager to go home and shower. when only minho and him were left, you went to approach him only to find his eyes already on you, glazed over at you but not really seeing.

he looks at you and all he can see is the way you were pressed up against the glass, your tits squished but somehow still bouncing, the screwed up features of your face when you were overwhelmed in pleasure. all he can hear are those metallic sounding moans, all he can feel is the urge to fall at your feet-

“bang chan,” minho snaps, jerking chan out of his fantasy. “where is my camera? you’ve had it for a while, i wanted to record the new choreography.”

“oh!” chan is starting to panic, he didn’t think that minho would ask after the camcorder so soon. he didn’t have time to prepare, didn’t have the energy to create an excuse. “there was too much storage on it, so i didn’t get to record what i wanted and i forgot to ask you about it.”

he’s biting his tongue now, cursing himself for saying too much. couldn’t he just have said he would give it back tomorrow?

“i didn’t think about the storage,” minho starts, not sounding like he had anything to hide. did he truly not know about what he had left on that camera for chan to find? “did you see anything interesting?”

he knows. he knows. chan is beginning to sweat, he can feel it in his hair and under his arms and he wants to bury a hole by his feet so he can jump into it and never climb out.

“haha, no,” he says, packing up the rest of his bag so that he didn’t have to look at minho. or you, who’s been silent since you walked in, watching him carefully. for all he wasn’t scared of minho and his adorably empty threats, he was terrified of you. “i didn’t even look. just saw that the storage was full, you know?”

he sounds awkward. he is awkward, right now.

“chan,” you trail a finger down his arm, speaking for the first time since you arrived and he’s gone, your touch leaving raised hairs in your wake. you should be angry, you should be livid, why are you touching him like that- “come over tonight to mine would you? we wanted to have you over for a while, minho wanted to cook for you. and you can give him the camera back then.”

“oh,” chan is sure that his face is flushed completely red by now, but he nods anyways. “sure! i’m free tonight. i’ll be there at seven? or whenever is good for you, i’m free. wait, i said that already-”

“perfect,” minho purrs, taking one of your hands in his and laying the other on chan’s shoulder. “seven is perfect. see you then, chan.”

he gets to your place early and sits in his car for 30 minutes, chewing at his fingernails and tapping his leg at an alarming pace. the more he thinks about it the more he overthinks - did they just want to yell at you in private instead of at the company building? did they really not know? what if he confessed and they didn’t know? what if they never speak to you again?

he has to take several deep breaths before leaving his car, and again before he knocks on your door. he’s ushered in by you, bright smiles on yours and minho’s faces as you take the camera out of his hands, and by the time he has a glass of wine in his hand and he’s sitting on the couch while minho puts the finishing touches on dinner he’s almost fully relaxed. he’s been here so many times, your apartment being a refuge to all the boys when they wanted to get away from the dorms for a bit. this is normal.

“let me put something on for us to watch,” you say at the same time minho asks chan if he wanted more wine, and you sneak the camcorder towards the tv while chan was distracted, sniping at minho that no he doesn’t want a second glass he’s not even halfway through the first one. you plug it in, smiling when it connected to the right input immediately. you scroll through the files, fingers calm on the remote even though you were shaking in anticipation inside. when you get to the right file you click on it, turning up the volume.

the image of you and minho takes over the tv, sounds coming out of the tv in a much better quality than what chan had been used to. his head whips towards the tv, wine forgotten and eyes wide as he takes in the video that you put on.

“what?” he asks, almost in a gasp as his eyes flicker back and forth between the tv, you, and minho, who had finally exited the kitchen and joined you in the living room.

“we thought since you loved it so much, we would watch it together,” minho explains, much more casually than one should be when playing a video of them fucking their girlfriend in front of their best friend. “why, is something wrong?”

“i-”, chan cuts himself off, panic choking his voice. “i’m so sorry-”

“hey,” you move towards him, sitting against his side and taking one of his hands in both of yours. “that isn’t what this is about. we don’t mind, okay?”

“we couldn’t let him sputter on for a bit more?” minho pouts, crossing his arms at you. “it was funny.”

“min, be nice,” you scold, smiling at chan.

“channie, i would have beat you up when i found out if i wanted to,” minho relents, siting on chan’s other side, sandwiching him between you both. “she likes that you watched it. i like it. okay? just relax and be good for us.”

minho’s words wash over chan, leaving him in a sort of daze. be good for us, minho had said. he could do that, chan was so good at being good. he melts against the couch, the heat from both of your bodies enveloping him as he takes in the video he’s seen over and over already.

“you planned this?” he asks, breathless and mesmerized.

“of course i did,” minho scoffs, squeezing one of chan’s thighs in his warm hand. “you think i would just let you watch that without planning it? i’m not that stupid.”

you’re not, but maybe i am, chan thinks, and he only realizes that he said it out loud when you start giggling and lean your head into his shoulder to hide your laughter.

he wants to retort, to somehow defend himself, but then video-minho changes his angle and starts fucking video-you even harder than before and whatever words were in his throat stayed behind the lump there.

“do you want to do that to her?” minho asks, hand trailing up chan’s thigh, leaving behind phantom pinpricks of sensation. he lets his blunt nails rake over chan’s leg, the delicate material of his workout pants providing no protection.

“can i?” chan breathes out, looking at you like he’s never seen anything more beautiful.

“please,” you wiggle your legs open a bit, a clear invitation. his hand comes to rest on your thigh and it’s so big, so much bigger than minho’s. he slides it up, to the hem of your oversized shorts, dipping his fingers closer to your panties and -

he stops.

“but, i also want…” he ducks his head down, trying to hide his flush before glancing at minho through his lashes. minho’s brow furrows, confusion clear on his face before he puts it together.

“oh, my channie,” he coos, running a hand through chan’s hair. “we can do that too, i promise. but my girl has been waiting so long for you, you don’t want to make her wait even longer, do you?”

chan shakes his head, entire body swaying with the force of it, reenergized by minho’s promise of more. he turns towards you and you feel your breath leave your body as you turn weighless for a moment, landing back on earth to find yourself straddling chan’s lap.

“you’re strong,” you praise, feeling up his biceps as you get comfy in his lap, ignoring minho’s indignant yelp next to you. chan beams up at you, both of his hands cupping your ass and using it as leverage to pull you closer into him. his dick is hard in his pants, poking against your crotch, and you both let out lewd moans when you grind into him a bit. he glances at minho, a little insecure and still kind of uncomfortable, but minho just pulls him in and kisses him deeply. it’s a sight to see, like a movie playing out right in front of your eyes, the love of your life and his best friend making out right in front of you. chan tenses a bit but melts into the couch even faster, letting minho lead him into blissful submission as he cups his face and moves it right how he wants it.

when they part, chan’s lips are cherry red and so wet, glistening in the light from the lamps decorating the room. you can’t help but kiss him too, licking minho’s essence off of him and reveling in the way he bucks up into you like he can’t help it.

chan slides his lips to the right, peppering kisses to the corner of your lips, across your jaw and down your neck. he sucks at the spot right under your ear that makes you see stars, heat bursting in your lower belly. he was utterly intoxicated by your scent, your clean, floral body wash taking over his senses until he was all but panting into your neck.

it almost hurts to pull back from him, it’s like a stab right to your heart when he makes a wounded noise at the loss of contact, but you need more from him. any thoughts that you might have had of seducing him, of wining and dining him and showing him how much you really wanted him, died out once you felt his hands on you. you’ve been crushing on this man for almost as long as you’ve been crushing on minho, and you weren’t going to give this opportunity any time to ruin itself; you knew chan, knew how his self-consciousness and second-guessing worked, and if you wanted him you needed to take him now before he changed his mind.

you reach for the drawstring on his pants, pulling it open and sticking your hand in, rubbing him through his boxers. next time you’d have more decorum, you’d suck him off until he was right on the edge and make him sob when you refuse to let him come, you’d let him fuck you into the mattress and let him pin you down, but not right now.

“on the couch?” chan asks, eyes wide as they flicker back and forth between you and minho.

“you know we’ve done it in worse places,” minho says, humor lining his words as the lust takes over his eyes at the thought of what was about to happen. a burst of affection takes over you as you look at him, your perfect soulmate who understood you and your desires and shared them with you like you shared everything else.

“never knew you were such an exhibitionist,” chan snipes back at him, gasping when you tug him out of his pants and boxers, the stretch of his waistband making it easy. you only have to stroke him a few times until he’s fully hard, his cock red and leaking where it curves into his lower belly.

“minho, help me,” you ask, blinking at minho through your eyelashes, and he knows what you want immediately; he hooks his fingers through your shorts and panties at once, pulling them down to your knees, just far down enough for you to be able to rub your bare pussy against chan’s cock.

“god, you’re so wet,” he curses, throwing his head back and sighing in time with the movement of your hips.

“for you, channie,” your voice cracks when his cock catches on your clit, and both of them are smart enough not to say anything about it. minho moves though, ever impatient, and lines chan’s cock up against your hole with practiced ease.

“thought about this a lot, did you?” you tease, knowing very well that both of you thought about this a little too much, sharing fantasies in hushes whispers when you were supposed to be asleep. .

minho clicks his tongue and presses himself up behind you, still fully clothed even though his dick was rock hard in his jeans. he places his hands on your hips and pushes you into chan, driving his cock deep into you. you collapse against chan’s chest, a surprised yelp leaving you at the unexpected fullness. chan echoes you, burying his face into your neck with a shudder.

“tease me again and see what i’ll do,” he says darkly, hands still in a death grip on your waist. you take his threat for what it is, knowing that he would follow through with his words, and you start grinding into chan in slow circles. his hands circle your waist, fingers tangled with minho as they let you set the pace.

“please,” chan whimpers, his breath tickling your neck. you want to tease him so badly, but how could you when he asked so politely? you shift your knees further onto the couch, gaining leverage so you could lift your hips higher up. you drop back down onto him and you both moan in unison.

you lift back up and drop down, again and again and again, finding a rhythm that fits both of you perfectly. it’s like a dance, moves that feel practiced and eased, spurred on by minho’s soft whispered praises towards the both of you. the video playing on the tv had reached its end, and every sound coming from you was heightened.

“what a pretty show, all for me,” minho moves away and finally takes his cock out of his jeans, fisting it and immediately starting to stroke himself off at a fast pace. you can’t see him, you miss the warmth of him against your back, but chan can’t take his eyes off of him, transfixed by the sight of his best friend jerking himself off to him and you as you’re bouncing on top of him.

you’re shaking apart on top of chan before you realize it, orgasm taking over you as you continue to ride him. you clench around him hard, and he’s spilling into you a second later, jerky little thrusts shaking your body on top of his. minho curses as he comes a moment later, too keyed up to extend his pleasure for long. this wasn’t about him anyways; at least, not this time.

you lift off of chan with a hiss, sending him a look of sympathy when he shivers in overstimulation. you don’t make it far, pulling him down to lay against you, your back pressed up against his front. both of your pants are still halfway off, but you can’t be bothered to care right now - you’re utterly exhausted, even from just one orgasm.

the both of you barely register minho draping a blanket over you before settling on the floor in front of you, leaning his head on the couch right by where chan’s hands were around your stomach. it’s so domestic, the three of you drifting towards one another so naturally that it just feels right. later, you’d get up and eat the now-cold dinner minho had painstakingly prepared, but for now you were content to lay in comfortable quiet.

“wait,” chan breaks the silence, and you have to resist the urge to groan at him. “how did you know that i watched it? what if the storage really was just full?”

“please, you’re too obvious,” minho teases, voice soft and drowsy, and you can hear the smile in it. “plus, you were watching it in the dorms, idiot. you’re lucky it wasn’t jeongin that caught you.”

kinktober masterlist

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #lee know smut #lee minho smut #bang chan smut #bang chan imagines #minchan #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader

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