Discover Top Posts Tagged with #ot13 x reader

⌗ WOULDN'T IT BE FUN? ── 세븐틴

ˎˊ˗ IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SIMPLE HOOKUP ... maybe you really are a whore! When you first started seeing Wen Junhui, you told yourself it was a private ordeal; something to relieve your stress. At least, it was, until he invited his friend, Minghao... who invited his friends. Now you’re caught between thirteen seriously handsome guys!

⌗ paring: seventeen ot13 x fem!reader ↳ content: pure smut. every chapter. horny horny horny boys and lots of threesomes. it's all relatively tame, though. read at your own risk

ᐢ..ᐢ lae's notes ↬ can we get some more ot13 shit guys .. don't make me write it all myself .. anyways, please support by commenting and reblogging! it helps me grow immensely!

⌗ 001 1+1 DEAL ⤷ JUNHUI & MINGHAO ⌗ 002 CAN I BORROW HER? ⤷ SOONYOUNG & JIHOON ⌗ 003 WELL, IF YOU DO IT... ⤷ JOSHUA & HANSOL ⌗ 004 CHANGED MY MIND ⤷ SEUNGCHEOL & JEONGHAN & WONWOO ⌗ 005 EASIEST MONEY OF MY LIFE ⤷ MINGYU & SEOKMIN ⌗ 006 WHAT, WE CAN'T GO? ⤷ SEUNGKWAN & CHAN

KISS & TELL

★⠀svt ot13 & “we really shouldn’t be doing this”⠀|⠀smut, mdni. various scenarios for each member. 2.6k wc

little things

tldr: little ways he shows he loves you a/n: i am...back? i've got some stuff cooking...

seungcheol: inherits your beef

he’s ride-or-die for you. if someone wrongs you, they wrong him too. it doesn’t matter how big or small the grudge is, he’s siding with you, ten toes down. you’re his baby, nothing beats that. he’s standing by your side, no matter what.

jeonghan: never yells at you

he just can’t. he’s not really a yeller to begin with; he’s generally a soft-spoken guy and even more so around you. he speaks to you in dulcet tones, even when he’s pissed. he treats you with care and respect. he’d never raise his voice at you, not in a million years.

joshua: he’s on the outside

when you’re walking in the street, he’s 100% walking closest to the street. he wants you on the inside so he can protect you from stray puddle splashes or rogue bicyclists. he wants you safe. he even sits on the outside edge of the booth at every restaurant on every date.

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #svt #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #ot13 x reader #seventeen ot13 #svt ot13 #ot13 #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader

genre and themes : angst, themes of stalking and harassment

summary : Tensions boil over in the practice room—but when Nabi walks out into the night, she has no idea something far more terrifying is waiting for her beyond those doors.

author's note : sasaengs = ew. This one part one of two for anon's request! Two parts cause as I was writing, I realised it's already sooo long hehe. Anon requested this quite some time ago... I apologise for the long wait T^T! Please stay safe out there and always trust your gut mwa ᰔ

ᯓᡣ𐭩 requested by anon

The tension in the practice room was thick—so thick, you could cut it with a knife.

Minor arguments had been flaring up all week, snapping like exposed wires between members. Now, the room was filled only with the sound of sneakers brushing against the wood floor and the low hum of the speakers looping the same track for what felt like the hundredth time. No one had said a word in over ten minutes, but everyone could feel it.

TikTok Couple Prank:

“Babe, can you leave the room? I need to change.” (SEVENTEEN ver. — OT13)

Pairing: SEVENTEEN (OT13) × Female Reader

Word Count: ~1.4k words

Warnings: Fluff, teasing, mild suggestive dialogue (PG-13), fake jealousy, TikTok prank chaos, secondhand embarrassment, Seventeen being very boyfriend-coded

Dividers used with credit to @tinybeetiny (Tumblr). All divider designs belong to their original creator.

Here is my masterlist go check it out for more of these

BEHIND THE LIGHTS

ᯓ★ It’s Y/N’s solo debut, but when the moment finally arrives, nothing feels right.

Genre: angst, anxiety, comfort, recovery, ot13 x reader, idol AU, 14th member of SVT Author’s note: Hii! English isn’t my first language, so please excuse any mistakes. This story is completely fictional. Thank you so much for reading!

──── ୨୧ ────

The room seemed smaller than usual.

Still sitting in the chair, you mentally reviewed every step, every line, and every turn you had to make on stage. The stylist pulled your hair harder than usual; at any other time you would have complained, frowned, or let out a small groan, but at that precise moment, when everything seemed to fade and drift away, the pain in your scalp was the last thing on your mind.

Despite the number of people moving around you—makeup artists, stylists, staff—you could only think about what was coming. It was your first solo album. Without the boys. A dream you had worked so hard for: sleepless nights, thousands of rehearsals, perfecting every note, every choreography, every detail. You wanted to showcase songs that said who you really were. And now, finally, you had the chance to do it.

It was the first day of promotions for your album. Today marked your solo debut on the Music Bank stage. Part of you was buzzing with excitement and pride, while the other was slowly being consumed by sharp nerves and anxiety, spreading like a heavy shadow beneath your skin.

The stylist put the finishing touches on your hair and took a few steps back. You looked beautiful. You were glowing. But when you looked in the mirror, something inside you began to twist. The makeup that had seemed perfect just minutes ago now felt too heavy, almost like a mask you didn't recognize. A knot began to tighten in your chest, and to keep from suffocating, you got up from the chair and began to walk around the room, humming the main song as if that melody could protect you.

“Twenty minutes left,” someone from the staff announced.

You nodded without really processing what that meant. Within seconds, several people rushed over to you to make the final adjustments. Twenty minutes. Before, that would have seemed perfect: just enough time to watch an episode of anime or joke around with the guys. Now, those same twenty minutes felt like a few seconds.

The knot in your stomach tightened even more, pulsing like an invisible alarm whispering that something could go wrong. Hands tightly adjusted the shiny corset around your abdomen; they did it so tightly that for a second you couldn't breathe and felt like a rib might break.

The flashing white lights, the voices mingling in a constant murmur, the hands adjusting details on your skirt, your hair, your microphone... It was all starting to become too much. It was as if the world was closing in on you, layer by layer.

“I need water, please,” you said into the air, your voice breaking.

The hands didn't stop. They kept touching you: your back, your abdomen, your legs, your neck... each caress felt more invasive, the room got smaller.

“Water... please.”

This time someone heard you and a plastic cup appeared in front of your face. You thanked them with a slight gesture and took it with trembling hands. You watched as the water trembled beneath your fingers, the tiny ripples moving as if they too were nervous. You tried to stop the shaking, but it was useless. You brought the cup to your lips and swallowed the liquid, which went down your throat as if dragging a heavy knot with it.

You counted to ten, as you had been taught to do when you felt nervous. One, two, three... But it didn't help much. The room seemed to get smaller with every second, and a hole slowly opened in your chest, stealing your breath away. The corset squeezed you cruelly and a dull pain spread like a circle around your torso, tightening more and more.

You counted again: one, two, three, four, fiv—

“Ten minutes.”

The staff member's voice cut your thoughts abruptly. You brought a hand to your hair, searching within yourself for an anchor, as if touching yourself would remind you: You can do this, Y/N. Of course you can.

“Please don't touch your hair,” warned a voice behind you.

Hands carefully brushed each strand of hair back into place. With your arms at your sides, a tingling sensation began to run through them, rising from your wrists to your shoulders, as if tiny flames were climbing up your skin. The anxiety spread further and further, invading everything.

You saw your manager making his way toward you through the crowd. His face wasn't particularly friendly, but at that moment his presence felt like a lifeline.

“Hey... one thing. Can I go to the bathroom? It'll only take a second, really... I need to go,” you pleaded, looking him straight in the eye, as if you could convince him it was urgent.

He took a deep breath when he saw you. He nodded and gestured for the team to let you go.

“You have three minutes. You're on in a moment. Everything is ready for your presentation. Don't be late,” he said firmly, as if the countdown had already begun.

You nodded several times and walked through the door almost without thinking. As soon as your feet touched the hallway, you started running, as if the simple act of getting away from that room could give you some air.

As you turned a corner, you saw a white door with a sign that said “Do Not Enter.” You didn't hesitate for a second: you pushed the handle and entered.

It was a small room, but lonely... which made it seem bigger than the makeup room. There was nothing but stacked boxes, forgotten decorations from old sets, and a slight smell of dust. It looked like a storage room for old things that were no longer used.

And without fully understanding why, for a moment you breathed. In that forgotten place, no one was watching you. No one was evaluating your every move, no one was correcting your posture, no one was expecting anything. There, you didn't have to be perfect.

You let yourself fall to the cold floor, leaning your back against the wall. You closed your eyes. A few seconds, just a few seconds, you told yourself.

You felt your clothes too tight, the corset pressing down on every breath, your hair pulling on your scalp. And then, without warning, your body decided to cry. It wasn't loud crying, nor was it muffled by screams: just silent tears that began to slide down your cheeks, soft and treacherous.

When you noticed, you clenched your teeth and tried to hold them back, forcing your eyes not to let any more escape. But that gesture of restraint only made the feeling worse.

Feeling that way made you feel even worse.

Because... how could you be crying now? You had fought so hard to get here. It was your chance to show who you really were, to prove that you weren't a burden, that you were also an artist, that you deeply loved what you do.

And yet... all that confidence you had built up was crumbling to pieces. It was falling apart, and the more it fell, the harder it hit you. As if it were telling you that nothing you had done was enough. As if it were screaming at you that everything would go wrong.

The tears kept falling, despite your efforts to hold them back. Feeling your makeup ruin, you shook your head desperately, and the crying intensified. You brought your hands to your face, at first carefully, as if afraid to touch it, but soon you were just looking for a way to hide from everything.

Meanwhile, in the dressing room, they announced that there were five minutes left. The alarm went off in a matter of seconds when they noticed you weren't there.

Your manager asked several staff members if they had seen you, but they all said no. He sent someone to the bathroom to bring you back, but when she returned, she shook her head. You weren't there. Desperation began to grow. He thought about calling you, but when he turned around, he saw your phone untouched on the table.

At that moment, the door burst open, revealing several members of Seventeen rushing in like a small whirlwind. Mingyu was carrying a huge bouquet of flowers in his arms, while Seungkwan and DK waved colorful pom-poms as if they were improvised cheerleaders.

“We're here!” shouted Hoshi, spreading his arms with a huge smile.

He was wearing a T-shirt with your face printed on it and a photocard hanging from his belt. He looked like a fan.

However, when they noticed that no one was responding and that the expressions in the room were not ones of joy but of concern, their smiles faded.

“What's going on?” Seungkwan asked, frowning.

“We can't find Y/N. She went to the bathroom five minutes ago and hasn't come back. She has to leave now... and she's not here,” your manager explained, visibly tense.

“Maybe... she's just taking a little longer in the bathroom,” said Seungkwan, trying to downplay it.

“Five minutes isn't that long. Dino usually takes much longer, you'd be surprised.”

“Hey!” complained Dino. “ There's no need to go into details.”

The manager shook his head firmly.

“No. I told her she had three minutes to get back. If she hadn't looked at me with that begging look, I wouldn't even have let her go. She knows how important this is. Everything is ready.”

“Have you checked the other bathrooms?” asked The8, realizing that the tone of the conversation was becoming serious. “She's absent-minded, she could have gotten lost.”

“Yes. I've already sent people to all the bathrooms and nothing. There's no sign of her. Five minutes left... God, I think I'm going to have a fit if she doesn't show up,” said the manager, putting his hands to his head.

“But it's Y/N,” Hoshi interrupted, trying to stay calm. “I'm sure she'll show up. She's worked so hard for this... She's even missed a lot of our outings to keep practicing. She wouldn't just leave like that.”

“I don't know,” murmured the manager. “She looked terrible. While they were treating her, she was pale... a little distant. As if her mind was elsewhere. She looked at me with those eyes... as if she wanted to get out of here. Damn it.”

The boys exchanged glances and, without needing many words, knew what they had to do.

“Okay,” S.Coups said firmly. “Jeonghan, Wonwoo, Mingyu, Minghao, and I will go look for her right now. There's no time to waste. Hoshi, DK, Seungkwan, and Dino, go to the stage. Buy us a few minutes.”

“But I want to go look for her too!” Hoshi protested, raising his hand like a child.

S.Coups sighed but nodded.

“Okay. Mingyu, you go to the stage. Let's go. There's no time to waste.”

The boys began running through the hallways, calling your name, opening doors one after another without getting a response. The echo of their voices mingled with the distant music from the stage, creating an unsettling murmur.

Jeonghan walked down a narrow, silent hallway where light barely reached. When he saw a door with a sign warning not to enter, he felt a twinge in his chest. Something inside him—an instinctive hunch—told him you were there.

He turned the doorknob without thinking twice. When he opened it, the air in the room was cold and thick... and then he saw you.

You were curled up in a corner, your back against the wall, as if trying to disappear into it. Your whole body was shaking. Tears streamed uncontrollably down your cheeks, and your hands clutched your chest as if something invisible were strangling you. Your breathing was ragged, desperate, almost a sob between gasps.

“Angel...” Jeonghan whispered, barely audible, as if he were afraid of breaking you just by saying your name.

You didn't respond. Your fingers dug into the corset, pulling at the fabric desperately, as if you wanted to tear it off with your nails.

“Hey, hey, calm down... what's wrong?” He hurried over and knelt down beside you.

Your gaze was lost, glassy, as if you couldn't even see him. Jeonghan gently took your chin and lifted it toward him. His thumbs brushed your wet cheeks, clumsily wiping away the tears that kept falling.

“Shhh... look at me, Y/N. I'm here, why are you crying?” he murmured with a gentleness that contrasted with the chaos trembling through your body.

“I... can't... breathe,” you managed to say, your voice a broken thread, as if every word hurt.

Jeonghan looked down and saw the red marks around the corset, deep and cruel. The fabric squeezed you like a living chain. The fear he felt mixed with a dull rage that rose in his chest.

“I can't breathe... no, I can't... please... help me...” you begged, trembling.

“Yes, yes, calm down, breathe... breathe with me,” he said, almost breathless.

He helped you to your feet and stood behind you, his fingers searching for the tight knot. Each knot he undid revealed more of those marks: red, sensitive skin, finally breathing. The sound of the rope sliding across the fabric mingled with your irregular gasps, with both of your racing pulses.

When the last knot gave way, you took a deep breath, as if you were coming back to life. You tore off the corset with trembling hands and let it fall to the floor without looking back. The skin that had been imprisoned was now exposed: soft, fragile, dotted with red marks. Your legs gave way and you knelt down again, turning your back on it, hugging your naked torso with your arms as if you could protect yourself from the whole world. The contact of the cold air with your skin made you shiver.

Jeonghan followed you without hesitation. He knelt behind you, touching you only as much as necessary, and then wrapped his warm, firm arms around your body. His clothed chest against your naked back was a silent refuge. He lowered his face and left a soft kiss on your trembling shoulder, as if to tell you that you were safe.

“It's okay... you don't have to wear that anymore, angel,” he whispered against your skin, as if his voice could mend the cracks that ran through you.

He pulled away for just a moment, just long enough to take off the oversized sweatshirt he was wearing and give it to you.

“Put it on,” he said tenderly. “I'm not going to let you wear that again.”

You nodded silently. You slowly pulled it over your head, while he turned away to give you privacy. The soft fabric enveloped you, and you brought your hands back to your face, as if now you were covering yourself in shame.

“I'm sorry... I'm so sorry...” you managed to say between sobs, your voice choked.

Jeonghan turned instantly, as if each of your words had pulled him back to you. He approached without hesitation and held your face in his hands again, with the same gentleness as someone holding a piece of porcelain they didn’t want to break.

“No, no, no…” he whispered. “You don’t have to apologize, do you hear me? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

His thumbs brushed your wet cheeks, carefully wiping away the tears that continued to fall.

“I ruined it…” you said, a lump in your throat making it hard to breathe. “My debut… my first solo stage… I ruined it… shit… I’m so sorry…”

Despair rose in your throat like a slow fire. Your shoulders began to shake again and your breathing became irregular, cut short by the guilt weighing on your chest, which just a few minutes ago had barely managed to breathe again.

Jeonghan shook his head slowly, as if trying to shake off every cruel thought that arose in your mind.

“You didn't ruin it,” he replied firmly but gently. “You were nervous, and that corset was a damn torture device. Anyone would have felt the same way. We'll fix it, okay? You can still go out there. And when you do, you're going to be amazing.”

You didn't answer. You just stared at him with glassy eyes, your lips trembling, as if part of you couldn't believe him and part of you wanted to cling to his words like a safety net.

Jeonghan sighed and, without another word, slowly pulled you toward his chest. You buried your face in his shirt, soaking the fabric with the tears you still couldn't stop. He kissed your temple tenderly, his fingers stroking your hair with slow, rhythmic movements, trying to calm the unease that seemed to overwhelm you.

“Breathe, angel...” he whispered in your ear. “I'm here. You're not alone.”

Instantly, hurried footsteps could be heard coming down the hall. The door, which had been left ajar, swung open as Hoshi and Minghao burst into the room, panting from running.

When they saw you, they both stopped dead in their tracks. Another wave of fear and concern washed over them.

“What’s wrong?” Hoshi asked, approaching cautiously, as if he were afraid of making the situation worse. “Hey, Y/N… why are you crying?” he whispered, his voice trembling as his hand gently stroked your hair.

You were still holding on to the older boy, your muffled sobs the only sound breaking the silence.

“A panic attack before going on stage,” Jeonghan explained with a frown. “And on top of that… the corset was a terrible costume idea. I’ll talk to the stylists, they clearly didn’t think this through.”

“What?” Minghao exclaimed, taking another step closer.

“Her back’s covered in red marks from the corset laces,” Jeonghan added, pointing to the garment lying on the floor. “She literally couldn’t breathe.”

Minghao frowned, then carefully reached out to lift your sweatshirt just a little, wanting to see how bad it was. But you flinched instantly, your whole body tensing like a reflexive shield.

“No… please,” you whispered, your voice so small it almost disappeared into the air.

He immediately nodded, pulling his hands back with trembling fingers, his expression tightening when he realized just how shaken you were.

“It’s okay. It’s fine,” he murmured softly.

“Hao, call S.Coups,” Jeonghan said, still holding you close. “Tell him to come here. We need to talk about this and set things straight.”

Minghao nodded and slipped out the door.

You held on for a few more seconds before slowly pulling away from Jeonghan. You sat down on an old chair in the corner of the room, your hands still trembling. “God… I’ve ruined everything. Everyone’s waiting for me,” you whispered, guilt tightening your throat.

Hoshi walked over and crouched down to your level, meeting your eyes. “It’s okay,” he said firmly. “Some of the guys are out there entertaining the crowd for a bit. I’m sure they’re doing great. Do you still want to perform? Maybe Seungcheol can talk to them about postponing it, don’t you think?”

“No… no, I want to do it,” you replied. “But now I’ve ruined everything: my clothes, my outfit… I’ve cried so much that I don’t know if I’ll be able to sing. I’ve worked so hard for this day. S.Coups is going to be angry that I hid.”

“No way,” Jeonghan said softly. “I promise you he won’t be angry. On the contrary, I’m sure he’ll be worried enough to be upset with others, but not with you.”

At that moment, the door opened again. Minghao entered, followed by S.Coups and Wonwoo, who were alarmed to see you like this: red eyes, smudged makeup, wrapped in Jeonghan’s sweatshirt.

“What happened?” the leader asked, his voice full of concern.

You didn’t answer. Your lips trembled for a moment; you were more afraid of his reaction than you cared to admit.

“She had an anxiety attack before leaving,” Jeonghan quickly explained. “Besides, the outfit they put her in wasn’t appropriate. It hurt her more than it helped.”

S.Coups nodded slowly, approaching with firm yet gentle steps. He crouched in front of you, holding your gaze.

“I’m sorry…” you whispered.

“Don’t say that,” he replied immediately, his voice calmer than you expected. “It’s okay. The important thing right now is how you’re feeling. Do you want to go out? I can talk to anyone if you’d rather go home and rest.”

“I want to do the presentation,” you said, trying to sound determined even though your voice was trembling. “I just need a few more minutes to calm down and get ready, please.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Let me talk to the program managers and your manager. I’ll buy as much time as I can.”

He leaned in slightly and kissed you gently on the forehead before walking back out the door.

You stayed there for half an hour, surrounded by the boys. They calmed you down, hugged you, made you laugh, and above all, reminded you how good you were and how hard you had worked to get there. The stylists got you ready again, this time with a more comfortable outfit that allowed you to breathe and move freely. They loosened your hair and carefully fixed your makeup, as if they wanted to wipe away not only your tears, but also your fear.

Meanwhile, Seungkwan, DK, Dino, and Mingyu did a great job with Carat, entertaining them, joking around, and even handing out food so that the audience would wait patiently and affectionately.

When everything was back to normal, the moment arrived. You walked onto the stage with your heart racing, but this time it wasn't from anxiety: it was from excitement.

The lights dimmed. The murmur of the audience turned into a collective sigh. You walked forward with a steady step and, upon hearing the first chord of your song, you took a deep breath.

This was your moment.

And when you sang the first note, there was no more fear, just you and your music.

──── ୨୧ ────

Thanks for reading! If you liked it, don’t hesitate to comment, 𖹭, or reblog. I’ll try to update soon (no promises!) ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡.

“O Prophet, giver of life and source of freedom, all we have received is from Your hand. You call us to be stewards of Your abundance, the caretakers of all You have entrusted to us. Help us to always use Your gifts wisely and teach us to share them generously. May our faithful stewardship bear witness to the love of The Prophet in our lives.”

𓄃 NIGHT THIRTEEN ~ ot13!svt x fem!reader 𓉸 wc ~ 10k ~ our kinktober masterlist ꨄ︎ warnings ~ spoilers ahead! lots and lots of sex, this is blasphemous, You are a God, oral (both), p in v, extremely unprotected, light dom/sub themes, slapping, threesomes, fivesomes, major orgy, if we missed anything please let us know so we can add it here!

our first collab... we hope you enjoy. xo

All Hallows Eve.

Lee Chan stood tall, draped in sheer lace with nothing but poise beneath it to succumb the room to tranquility, for one who believes in himself shall condemn others to believe in him as well.

Twelve disciples kneeled on pallets of chestnut wood, woven lambs wool beneath their bare knees, patient, waiting, heads hung in quiet song, a harmony cascading up into the high ceiling adorned with splashes of watercolor deities and gold and silver metals. Onyx lace, in solidarity with Lee Chan, laid over their heads of unruly hair, bodies naked, an act of reverence, submitting themselves before their everlasting love, having given themselves to Her habitually.

You.

𝖯𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗏𝗅𝖾𝖽𝗀𝖾𝗌 - ( 𝖲𝖤𝖵𝖤𝖭𝖳𝖤𝖤𝖭 )

⤹ ┆ 𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 ⋮ 𝖳𝖺𝗀𝗌 ┆⤸ established relationship, definitely ooc, grammar/spelling mistakes, gn!reader, skin!Neutral, not proof read !!

𓊈 𝖶𝖼 ⋮ 0.5k 𓊉

⌗ Featuring┆0t13 !!┆

- Kim Mingyu - Joshua Hong - Choi Seungchol -

Refuses to let you pay for your own things. Even if its as simple as giving a few cents, he will stop you before you even have a chance to reach for your wallet and he’ll give the money instead.

From the outside, some people think you’re only with him for the money but in reality he’s the one who insists you never pay for anything. Even if you tried (which you have) he somehow always has it pre-paid or has his card already swiped before you can even open your wallet.

No matter how much you tell him he doesn’t need to and you have your own income, he just loves taking care of you and loves being able to treat you to little gifts without worries.

- Kwon Soonyoung - Boo Seungkwan - Yoon Jeonghan -

Actually listens to you. He’s usually insistent on going his own way or handling things himself without accepting the advice or help from others when its not needed, except for when it comes to you.

You’re the only person he’ll actually stop and listen to and even go to for advice (for matters that he won’t tell the other members about).

he knows you always have his best interest in mind and always give him honest truth so it makes sense that whenever he’s in a troubling situation he never hesitates to give you a call.

- Wen Junhui - Hansol Chwe - Lee chan - Lee Seokmin -

Saves a bit for you (ik I’ve mentioned this in the past). He somehow always has you on his mind, and that doesn’t change when it comes to anything. free goodie bags? He’ll either take two or give you his instead. Other members brought in some baked goods or food to share? He’ll be sure to put some in a container to bring home for you.

Even if it's not complimentary or free, he’ll get an extra for you – plushies, drinks, keychains, his love knows no bounds, including physical means.

You’d think his love language is gift giving based on how much little things he gives you, but in reality he’s just expressing his gratitude towards you in any way possible, he wants to be able to share every little moment with you, even if its something as simple as trying the same dish he had earlier.

- Xu Minghao - Jeon Wonwoo - Lee Jihoon -

Physical touch privileges. He’s not a very touchy guy, he usually tends to shy away from hugs and cheek kisses from the other members when possible so giving you the privilege of all the physical affection and touch you could ever want was quite surprising coming from him.

He’ll even go as far as to accept PDA, as long as its just in front of the other members, not actually in public.

But when you’re at home, just the two of you, he’ll lay his head in your lap or drape his arms around your shoulders, pulling you closer and closer over time until he can lie on your chest or shoulders.

our first collab... we hope you enjoy. xo

All Hallows Eve.

Lee Chan stood tall, draped in sheer lace with nothing but poise beneath it to succumb the room to tranquility, for one who believes in himself shall condemn others to believe in him as well.

You.

#ot13 x reader

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