lee chan leaves a bitter taste in your mouth from the moment you meet. besides being forced to marry him for the sake of your beloved café, he’s simply unbearable with his attitude. but who knows, everyone is full of surprises, and that even includes chan.
angst + fluff with a hint of drama, 4251 words, chan x reader | arranged marriage, enemies to lovers with a parent au in the last scene
a/n: my dearest sol @starlightjoong i hope you have the happiest of birthdays because you deserve the world. i’m always a dm away if you need anything i love you :(
you can check you the playlist to “say you love me” here!
You swallow the saliva that builds in the back of your throat. Today’s the day. You’re about to meet your future husband, someone you’re to be bound to for the rest of your life.
It is a business maneuver, one you have no control over after you were bought out by the Lees’ big company. And besides, you love your business more than anything. If this is how it’s going to be, so be it, as long as you can keep control of your beloved cafe.
You step out of their expensive limo and sigh when your eyes find their large apartment building. What has fate gotten you into? You just wanted a simple, peaceful existence running your quaint cafe.
You follow behind his father as he silently leads you up to their spacious penthouse. The elevator ride is quiet, except for the clinking of the gears as it pulls you higher and higher into the sky, away from the ground and closer and closer to your new life, your future.
It’s a grand place, no doubt about it. With its floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city, lights from all the buildings below shine through and twinkle like stars in the sky. If you were to stand in front of them, you would barely see the people below, scurrying off to their jobs and homes, just as you once did.
But now you’ve been tossed into another life.
You don’t even know your future husband’s name! What are you doing here?
His father clears his throat, attracting your attention from the view before holding out his hand. “Shall we?”
ミ★ synopsis: you’ve waited a millennium as a grim reaper to take revenge on soonyoung, then came the day where he had finally reincarnated. with revenge on your mind, you don’t realize that him receiving a second chance at life might have you questioning your own promise.
word count | 12.4k (SORRY idk why i do this to myself either)
pairing | lee chan (svt) x female reader
warning(s) / includes | swearing, mentions of drinking and alcohol, food mentions (lmk if i missed anything!!)
genre | fluff, humour, university au, enemies-to-lovers au
notes | uh i don’t really know how game season works bc it’s not really a thing in unis here (?) so ;-; please forgive me for any (inevitable) inaccuracies hghhghe also this is my first time making a moving banner so shhh just ignore how bad it is gwhsha
summary: lee chan should really stop winning so many games for your university, because as the resident writer for the sports column of the student newsletter, you’re starting to get really sick of having to cross paths with him all the time.
a/n: happy birthday to my boyfriend (/j) chan who’s also a loser (affectionate ig) bc he never pays rent for living in my head 🙄💗 also just thought everyone should see this clip that kinda inspired this whole fic okay bye—
WEEK NINE.
You love writing for your university’s student newsletter, you really do; you just hate the person you have to write about.
“Stupid Lee Chan and his stupid wins,” you grumble, stomping across the football field with your notebook grasped tightly in your hold. Seungkwan kindly got you one with a hard cover for the new school year, because he will never forget that particular afternoon last year when you stormed into Wonwoo’s office and slammed down a crumpled sheet of recycled paper onto his hardwood desk, with LEE CHAN’S STUPID INTERVIEW #4 messily scrawled across the top of the page.
Something about the look on your face that day told Seungkwan you didn’t particularly care if Chan saw the title, written in all caps with a black marker. Hell, you probably wanted him to see.
Thus entered the hard-cover notebook so no other innocent sheet of paper would have to meet its unfortunate demise at the hands of your never-ending feud with the star player.
“Well,” Mingyu begins, easily catching up to you thanks to his long legs, “they don’t call him the ace of the team for no reason, you gotta admit that those goals he scored at the game were pretty awesome. Redstone U stood no chance.”
You hate everything about the soccer field; the dirt that gets trapped between the grooves of your soles, the occasional rogue ball that comes whipping at your head at light speed, the jock who’s currently waiting for you at the bleachers…
“Yeah, he’s a good player, I guess. But I think he let all the attention get to his head.” You lift your free hand to shield your face from the late afternoon sun, beads of sweat already forming along your hairline. Damn you for always forgetting to apply sunscreen before heading to the field, Minghao will have your head when he finds out. “Every time he poses for you while you take his photos, I just want to throw up.”
“I don’t know, Y/N,” Mingyu singsongs, “people don’t throw themselves at him for no reason either. Plus, I think that blonde hair he has going on right now suits him really well.”
Your lips purse together as you swallow down a bitter remark about how you absolutely do not find Lee Chan attractive, especially not with the new hair colour he got done over the summer. Who cares that a compliment from Kim Mingyu, most-eligible-bachelor-on-campus extraordinaire, means you’re undeniably hot with a capital ‘H’ and the trademark symbol? Certainly not you.
Warning(s): Pining (it hurt my soul writing it) and suggestive + Gyu calling you a good girl (pls)
Summary: After years of hiding your feelings for a certain dark haired boy with the sweetest smile, a purple envelope gets in the way of your process of moving on from him.
“I think you’ll always remain in my heart as a simple reminder of what could have been if things were different for the both of us. I wish it was simple to move on and forget about you but after years of trying, my mind sometimes wanders back to you and how you’re really doing even when I know your heart isn’t healing like mine because yours was never broken in the first place. Just mine.”
You wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you up and take you as far away as possible from the studio. Why you may ask? The sole purpose of your embarrassment was in the form of a piece of paper that was sitting right in the hands of your co-host, Mingyu.
title: the times we couldn't say goodbye (the times i loved you most)
pairing: hoshi x gn!reader
wc: 2.2k
notes: fantasy!au, wizard hoshi!au, established relationship, implied friends to lovers, fluff, (pretty significant) angst, suggestive content but nothing explicit, small blood mention, special thanks to @soonsluv and @crimsoncauldron for helping me with edits!
for @neonun-au
i.
It’s in the garden behind the inn where you realize you're really in love with Soonyoung.
He’s eighteen, radiant with the glow of youth and the summer sun, long legs askew underneath the now sprawling wisteria you planted with him as a child. The daylight is emerald through the foliage, and you watch it coalesce in his butterscotch eyes, fall into the gentle slope of his nose.
Your bones feel warm and heavy with happiness. Soonyoung’s head rests in your lap, and he meets your gaze with his usual affection, the overabundant kind that feels like you can hold in your hands with how tangible it is.
“When will you come back?” you ask.
He takes a long pause. It worries you because Soonyoung’s never the type to pause. He goes, he goes and keeps going until he can’t anymore. You're surprised he's stayed so long in one place—here.
"I don't know." He laughs blithely and finds your hand so he can lace his fingers with yours. "I haven't thought that far ahead," he admits.
Then he does that insufferable, maddening thing where he trails little kisses down the span of your wrist, up your forearm, across the back of your hand, his touch featherlight, yet deliberate. You wonder if he's mapping your skin as to not forget you when he leaves.
"All I know is that I need to be there."
You don't need to follow his gaze to know where he's looking—the tall silvery spires past the village, an imposing silhouette of the royal castle of the kingdom you live in.
He doesn't say that people usually don't come back when they leave for the city. You already know that one, too.
And, in turn, you stay quiet. You've learned that words aren't enough to change his mind, which, funnily enough, is why you like him so much.
Instead, you let the swell of love wash over you, a heady, slow rush that spreads over your skin like sun (yet, tender like a bruise) as you let yourself admire him.
You want to love him without expectation, without pretense. But it's hard to separate expectation from love, even for someone like you, whose job it is to watch people come and go.
Because as weighty as Soonyoung's love can be, you know how hard it is to keep. And so you sit, limbs tangled, watching the firebugs pulse with their transient June light, knowing this moment, too, will pass.
You feel the warmth of Soonyoung's laughter settle over you, as certain and familiar as ever. You allow his wandering hands as they press little lights into your skin, and let the heat of his skin play back on yours.
With him, there's never been a forever and always. You chase the now, but in the now, you have him and his lips and his racing heartbeat all to yourself.
And some young, foolish part of you thinks it's a moment you can bottle up and keep. That the closer you hold it to your heart, the more likely he is to stay.
ii.
The first time you learned Soonyoung could use magic, you were thirteen.
You had been demonstrating a perfect cartwheel to him—on the bartop inside the inn, of course. And, in your vain attempt to avoid the smattering of ale steins and assorted weapons in your way, you had careened off the counter and given yourself a nasty scrape on the jagged floorboards.
You had both laughed until you cried, and then when Soonyoung realized you were actually crying, he rushed over with a heartrending urgency.
"S'fine," you mumbled, your adolescent body feeling all too big, too awkward under his gaze.
He offered his hand to help, and being the stubborn kid you were, you denied him. And he whined and fussed until you finally let him kneel down and look at the thin gash, now weeping blood.
You can't even describe what happened next. The patient hover of his usually quick hands over your skin, then an indescribable warmth all over.
And then your knee was healed.
Over the next few years, you watched Soonyoung experiment with his powers.
He'd call your name on his way back from the market, waving his free hand around while balancing a bag of produce in the cradle of his other arm.
"Watch this!" And then a vortex of apples would emerge from the burlap, first a magnificent crimson swirl, and then their eventual pathetic scatter over the grass in front of the inn.
"Almost there," he'd mutter, as you both gather the fruits in your arms, everything and everyone feeling a bit bruised.
Sometimes you'd watch the gap underneath his door intermittently light up as you cleaned the inn for the night. You pictured his cute frown, nose scrunched up as he flexed his palm. Orange, black, orange, black, orange, the weak flicker of the flame birthed from his skin.
You wouldn't say Soonyoung was a good magician. But he certainly was a tenuous one with a considerable stroke of luck.
Before he left, he would show you little tricks.
"I’m paying my rent," he'd harumph, staring intently at the unbaked pie you left on the counter, as if willing it to cook itself. "With my valuable labor."
"You better pay faster." You cast a sidelong glance at the disgruntled mercenary in the corner of the dining room.
"Don't worry about Jihoon. He's my friend." And then another hopelessly determined glare at the innocent, perfectly latticed pie.
Soonyoung's eventual contribution was a quick brûlée over the top after cajoling the poor starving warrior, entertaining him with the surprisingly effective party trick of producing a real bit of fool's gold behind his ear. ("See? We're friends!" he'd tell you.)
"Can these hands at least chop some wood?" you'd tease. They fit so perfectly in your own, something you learned you could, no, would miss.
"Yes," he'd start. "But they can also do this!" And then their warm descent on your sides, tickling you until you collapsed right into him, letting him drink up the laughter right from your lips.
When you first met Soonyoung, he was a small, impish little thing who had turned up at the front door of the inn—on an adventure, he said.
He stayed ever since, learning to run the inn with you.
But you'd see the glow of his eyes as yet another traveler regaled him with tales of an expedition in kingdoms past. You knew you couldn't tie him here. You felt lucky to even have the luxury to hold him as you slept, to have him tie your apron behind your back every day and to dance with you and the broom as you swept the floor ("I think I prefer the broom," you'd say, just to see him pout. And like clockwork, he would, and you'd kiss him, and kiss and kiss and kiss).
Now, he packs his bags to study magic in the royal city.
You feel the heavy sway of your heart in the pit of your chest. You've watched many adventurers go, but for some reason, you could never bring yourself to prepare for this moment.
He sits amidst a small disaster in your shared room. "Don't forget your lucky tiger," you remind him, leaning against the doorframe. It's a shitty, dilapidated little thing you sewed together for one of his birthdays. But he kept it, and for someone who loses a lot of things, that certainly was a special feat.
"How could I?" He holds an offended hand to his chest and kisses the bundle of threads, and you feel like bursting into a million tears.
He blows you a kiss at the doorstep.
"Not a real one, because that's for when I come back," he says.
How soon is when? You want to ask. You think of that heat-stained afternoon in the garden, where you crossed hands and hearts but your mind was a million miles away. I don't know was a hell of an answer to hold onto, but he didn't give you much of an option.
Soonyoung lingers at the doorstep. You wonder if he expects you to find another reason to stop him.
Instead, you watch him disappear down the sandy bend of the road, going, going, gone. The lonely dance of the innkeeper, the choreographed parting you had grown accustomed to.
Your life has been a series of goodbyes, but this one, just this once, dies on your tongue.
iii.
It's at the end of a grueling, mind-numbing day—every spring, the traveling mercenaries migrate to the royal kingdom, your small inn a pit stop on the way—when you see Soonyoung for the first time in years.
You're at the faraway market, the one in the royal city, to pick up supplies.
He's taller, broader. He walks with a certainty in his step, one that's forgotten when he runs to you with abandon.
Soonyoung sweeps you up, as easily as ever, hands firm around your waist to lift you so your faces are level. He's stronger, too.
"Soonyoung," you breathe, giddy. His lips find your neck; he's kissing, giggling, breathing you back in. "What are you doing here?"
"Wanted to ask you the same." He grins, all lopsided and toothy, and your heart balloons to some inhuman size. "I live here, you know."
"But your letters—thought the magic school wouldn't let you leave."
"I snuck out," he says, pressing his forehead to yours. "Wanted to come home. See you."
Home. Home. You roll the word around in your head. Soonyoung never called the inn home; he always wanted to be everywhere at once, and yet something kept him there. The thought that it was you presses against your ribs, a crushing swell of guilt and joy all in one.
"Watch," he says, still as exuberant as ever. And even before you roll your eyes, he's insistent—"I'm good now, I promise!"
Protection magic, he calls it. A force field. He's come a long way from a flame barely able to cook an egg.
"It's like you're untouchable," you laugh, pressing the flat of your palm over the shimmering plane before Soonyoung's hand, feeling it pulse against you like a magnet.
"Almost." And then the pressure's gone, replaced by the warm callouses of his skin on yours as the magic dissipates. "Never for you."
And again, you think about how uncanny it is that you and Soonyoung fell in love—the dutiful innkeeper and the restless adventurer.
Who, but you, would he ever let touch him?
It's then you remember how Soonyoung's hand has always fit perfectly in yours.
—
Soonyoung accompanies you back to the inn—"They won't miss me for a night," he had said.
And so you're back in the garden, sitting shoulder to shoulder under the ivy and magnolias.
Although it's been years, his presence grounds you. Everything from the way he squeezes your hand when he talks, the glimmer in his eyes, how he steals a kiss mid-conversation brings you back to when you fell in love all those years ago.
But nothing could have prepared you for when Soonyoung asks you to live with him in the royal city.
He had been asked to join the mages' court at the palace, a permanent, demanding position. That was the real reason he wanted to see you, he tells you.
"Let Mingyu take over. You know he wants to!" Soonyoung laughs like it's a joke. "Come, make a new home with me. I'll cook the pies. The right way, I promise." His smile is dazzling and heartbreaking at the same time.
You replay the moment he told you he returned because he wanted to come home—to you.
How could you tell him that your real home was here, at the inn? In the roots of the wisteria, in the battered floorboards of the dining room, in the bag of produce you get from the market every morning?
"I—" you start. It tumbles out of your mouth, shredded and broken. "I can't. You know I can't."
He's silent. You think it's because he expected this outcome, that it couldn't be any other way, that you both knew this, innately, the night he first told you he was leaving.
You don't look at each other.
The moon is violet. The sky is black. There are no stars tonight.
And as if piercing a great big divide, he reaches for your hand, the habit now a lifeline as the weight of the moment settles into you.
"But I’ll have you for tonight?" Soonyoung turns to look at you. His eyes are shimmery, earnest.
If you could silence the roar in your head, in your chest, you would instead feel the pressure of an invisible clock, counting the seconds you have left together. You both know you're on borrowed time.
"Soonyoung." Your face is so hot, you aren't sure if you're crying or not. "You'll have me for as long as you want me."
"Silly," he murmurs. "I'll always want you." Your noses are touching; he holds your gaze so you don't see the sadness in his smile. But you already know what he's feeling, the heavy twist of acceptance settling in the both of your stomachs.
It's always been this way with you two—you don't have to see him to know his heart.
And maybe it's this knowledge that guides your hands, your lips, when you trace him into memory on this starless night.
It's another postponed goodbye, you know it is, a prolonged farewell you began years ago but could not bring yourself to end.
You go through the motions in your head, the phantom parting, your eventual final meeting.
But it's something you both accept. Tonight is just another push of the hands of the clock. Another stolen moment.
When Soonyoung kisses your lips with the tenderness of all the years he's loved you, your heart falls right into his hands.
What you have with him isn't forever, but it's something.
ෆ synopsis: kwon soonyoung loves too hard and falls in love too quickly, accidentally building a (very false!!!) fuckboy image that he can’t seem to get rid of. when his friends talk him out of proposing to a girl he went on 2 dates with, he finally realizes he has a big problem with love. signing up to appear on his university’s most popular youtube talk show to unload his baggage and fix his image? what could possibly go wrong?
ෆ pairing: college student! ksy x reader (gn)
ෆ genre: drama, fluff, humor, romance
ෆ series warnings: cursing, food/drinks, one shared braincell, ksy’s character is extremely 🥺🤧
ෆ status: ongoing
ෆ started: feb 1st
ෆ join the taglist!
⤷ updates: weekends (bc uni always comes first)
ෆ a/n: i'm going to be taking a little break from the package delivered! series once the first season is finished. i noticed that i tend to write a lot along the lines of angst or serious/mature themes so i'm really excited to switch to something more relaxed, fluffy, and feel-good. please let me know if I missed any warnings! + love hard imagines are under the "wondernus imagines: lh" tag
Summary: Even though he’s co-host of a podcast called Shit Show, Chan didn’t think his life would turn into a shit show. But being in the spotlight as a pro OWL player, the show is put on display for the whole world to see.
a/n: this is a spin-off series of All Fun and Games, which was a Wonwoo text au, so a lot of things might not make sense if you read this without reading that first. I don’t know when exactly I’m going to start posting for this, but since I already have an idea for what I wanna do, I wanna write it and stock up on parts while I’m excited, yknow??? character descriptions and stuff will be under the cut!! (and yes I know I made some errors but I’m too lazy to fix em)
word count | 12.4k (SORRY idk why i do this to myself either)
pairing | lee chan (svt) x female reader
warning(s) / includes | swearing, mentions of drinking and alcohol, food mentions (lmk if i missed anything!!)
genre | fluff, humour, university au, enemies-to-lovers au
notes | uh i don’t really know how game season works bc it’s not really a thing in unis here (?) so ;-; please forgive me for any (inevitable) inaccuracies hghhghe also this is my first time making a moving banner so shhh just ignore how bad it is gwhsha
summary: lee chan should really stop winning so many games for your university, because as the resident writer for the sports column of the student newsletter, you’re starting to get really sick of having to cross paths with him all the time.
a/n: happy birthday to my boyfriend (/j) chan who’s also a rat (derogatory) bc he never pays rent for living in my head 🙄💗 also just thought everyone should see this clip that kinda inspired this whole fic okay bye—
WEEK NINE.
You love writing for your university’s student newsletter, you really do; you just hate the person you have to write about.
“Stupid Lee Chan and his stupid wins,” you grumble, stomping across the football field with your notebook grasped tightly in your hold. Seungkwan kindly got you one with a hard cover for the new school year, because he will never forget that particular afternoon last year when you stormed into Wonwoo’s office and slammed down a crumpled sheet of recycled paper onto his hardwood desk, with LEE CHAN’S STUPID INTERVIEW #4 messily scrawled across the top of the page.
Something about the look on your face that day told Seungkwan you didn’t particularly care if Chan saw the title, written in all caps with a black marker. Hell, you probably wanted him to see.
Thus entered the hard-cover notebook so no other innocent sheet of paper would have to meet its unfortunate demise at the hands of your never-ending feud with the star player.
“Well,” Mingyu begins, easily catching up to you thanks to his long legs, “they don’t call him the ace of the team for no reason, you gotta admit that those goals he scored at the game were pretty awesome. Redstone U stood no chance.”
You hate everything about the soccer field; the dirt that gets trapped between the grooves of your soles, the occasional rogue ball that comes whipping at your head at light speed, the jock who’s currently waiting for you at the bleachers…
“Yeah, he’s a good player, I guess. But I think he let all the attention get to his head.” You lift your free hand to shield your face from the late afternoon sun, beads of sweat already forming along your hairline. Damn you for always forgetting to apply sunscreen before heading to the field, Minghao will have your head when he finds out. “Every time he poses for you while you take his photos, I just want to throw up.”
“I don’t know, Y/N,” Mingyu singsongs, “people don’t throw themselves at him for no reason either. Plus, I think that blonde hair he has going on right now suits him really well.”
Your lips purse together as you swallow down a bitter remark about how you absolutely do not find Lee Chan attractive, especially not with the new hair colour he got done over the summer. Who cares that a compliment from Kim Mingyu, most-eligible-bachelor-on-campus extraordinaire, means you’re undeniably hot with a capital ‘H’ and the trademark symbol? Certainly not you.
pairings: eric sohn x female reader
genre: baseball player!eric, college au, strangers to lovers,
summary: in which you are assigned to interview the unapproachable baseball team ace eric sohn, and things end up going sideways
word count: 6.1k (did i get carried way with the concept? yes i did)
requested: nope i literally have other requests from months ago that i should get to but i’ve been having writers block and i couldn’t write any of them without it sounding awful sooooo here we are!!! enjoy lol
note: all of the boyz are the same age for the sake of the story. also, the start of the plot is based on rowoon’s episode of sf9’s drama click your heart.
𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝
“So, you want to join newspaper,” the newspaper editor, Choi Chanhee, said as he crossed his arms and surveyed you. It was the start of the second semester, and you soon realised that you had very few clubs and activities under your belt. “What makes you think I’ll let you join in the middle of the year?” Chanhee inquired, raising an eyebrow in question. His full cheeks and baby pink hair usually made him seem approachable and soft, but his hard expression cancelled out any comfort his other features might have brought you.
You blinked at him. “We’ve been best friends since freshman year?” you deadpanned, irritated that Chanhee was making such a big deal out of it. From the corner of the room, you noticed Changmin suppress a giggle by clearing his throat and pretending to cough into the bend of his elbow. “Come on, Chanhee. You’re a reporter short since Bomin quit, right?” you recalled what he had been moaning about for nearly three months. “I can fill in for him! I’ll be great.”
Despite being your best friend and normally having quite a warm personality, Chanhee was skeptical. “Alright,” he decided, drawing the word out and unfolding his arms. Chanhee sauntered over to where Changmin was standing and – after giving him a sharp elbow to the ribs – grabbed his clipboard, pretending to look for something to assign you. You could tell by the ways his eyes didn’t even skim the words that he already had something in mind for you. “If you’re so desperate to join the paper, then you can do the interview on Eric Sohn,” he stated, giving you a challenging look.
So much for him “going easy on you”, as he had said moments before the two of you entered the media room together.
Dramatically, a few gasps sounded through the media room and you sighed. “Who’s Eric Sohn?” you almost regretted asking, since everyone seemed mortified that you didn’t know him.
note: (yes i photoshopped this myself lmao, that’s why it looks so bad i’m sorry)
Idol!Reader x Idol!Juyeon/Idol Changmin (idol au, love triangle)
summary: in which you collaborate with the boyz in an effort to stop your company from disbanding your group.
update schedule: every 4 days at 2:00pm PST!
Google Form voting for Juyeon/Changmin
DISCLAIMER: this is for my own curiosity and enjoyment, not to decide who the reader ends up with! that has already been decided by me since before I started posting this fic xx
