#dino x reader

chan rival commanders au

masterlist

• you’ve seen bodies hit the ground with your sword, the shattered fragments of empires that believed they were eternal, all brought to their end by the ‘army of the dead’. the nickname given by the survivors of the wars you had fought under the name of the king. A
• you loved it. being the leader of the fifth battallion was a joy like no other. the soldiers under your command were no less than exemplary.
• but there was one thing you hated with all your might.
• lee chan. the commander of the first battalion. the one who abandoned you and left you for dead.
• you had met chan back when you were drafted. he was living in the same tent alongside you and many others. you had trained with him, shared food with him, but when you were lying on the ground, bleeding out, he left.
• he left you for dead.
• some other soldier had managed to get you out and you swore if you ever found lee chan alive, you’d kill him yourself.
• andoh, the anger you felt when you found out he became a commander too. you were seething in rage anytime you saw him in strategic meetings.
• but this wasn’t the concern right now.
• your soldiers had put faith in you but you had failed them,, once again, you found yourself staring at the face of death.
• your battalion was assigned to ambush another army, but the latter had easily overpowered you. and here you were, lying on a hill of god knows where, losing blood by the second.
• staring at the orange sky, would you have done this all over again? if it meant dying like this?
• you heard footsteps and horse hooves, behind you. clutching your sword tighter, you whipped your head in the direction of the noise.
• lee chan?? what was he doing here??
• “oh–thank god, you’re alive!” he breaths a sigh of relief.
• “what are you doing here?” you ask.
• “we were told your battallion was attacked so we immediately made way here, to check for the survivors,” he explained, as he propped you up. “i’m here to take you back to the camp but I think I should take care of your wound first.”
• “h–how many survived?” you manage to choke out, as you loosened your armor.
• chan’s eyes don’t meet yours. “only five did and they’re all in a bad state.”
• your heart plunged into the depths of despair. how could you have let your people down? the ones that put faith in you? what would you tell their families?
• “let me die here,” you tell him.
• “what?”
• “let me die here,” you repeat. “i should be buried with them. I don’t have any reason to go back.”
• chan looks at you in disbelief. “are you insane? i’m not going to let you die here!”
• “that is not your decision to make,” you growl. “you left me to die once before, did you not?”
• “i was just trying to help–”
• “help?!” you repeat, on the verge of picking up your knife and beheading him. “you left me for dead!” you yell.
• chan tries to come up with a retort, but much to his dismay, the words don’t come out.
• you scoff. “you’re no commander but a man with a fragile ego who wanted all the glory for himself.”
• a heavy silence befalls the two of you,, what else could chan tell you? you wouldn’t believe him anyway,, he starts bandaging up your wound,,
• “but you didn’t die.” chan mutters.
• “and what if I had–huh?” you bark. “then what? would you have buried me with your conscience?”
• chan’s eyes don’t meet yours. “i’d have bury m’self in that grave with you.”
• you scoff. “liar.”
• chan frowns. “look I know what I did was wrong but I was actually going to come back for you,” he explains. “i would never leave you to die because–”
• “because?”
• “because i’m so desperately in love with you!” he confesses,, his chest heaving up and down,, his brown eyes looking into yours,, as you feel your cheeks heating up,, his jaw tightens as he looks way,,
• but you find yourself acting on impulse,, pulling chan by the armour,, as your lips collide,, jolts of electricity shooting up your veins,, as the world melts behind the two of you, and you feel the wind being knocked out of your lungs,,
• the two of you break the kiss,, gasping for air,, foreheads resting on each other’s,, cheeks dusted red,, maybe you didn’t hate him after all,,

H M M M SHOULD I MAKE SONG FICS FROM SVT’S SONGS (bc i unintentionally created my To Feel Love fic to become associated with the Vocal Unit’s song Hug and now i’m thinking hmmmmmmmm

and maybe i can take some requests for those fics with the svt members (or maybe create one for each) i’m going ballsy today

and maybe i can also just take in requests bc i wanna interact and improve my work

SEVENTEEN (PERFORMANCE UNIT) / making out

warning: some implied mature content

other versions:hip hop unit/vocal unit

requested by anonymous.

↣jun

The very moment he saw your flustered expression after that first “can I kiss you?” was the moment he knew that, even three years into your relationship, he would still be asking for your permission before kissing you, just so he could see this same look on your face again.

You’d think you would get used to this after so long, but the way he looked every time he asked – his eyes widened and burning, his lips slightly parted, his cheeks flushed, his focus solely on you – made it difficult to take it for granted.

Although, to be fair, the question was unwarranted sometimes – he’d already have you pinned against the wall, trapped by his chest against yours as one of his hands rested above your head. Still he’d ask, “can I kiss you?” even though kissing was not the only thing either of you wanted to do to each other.

You’d nod, always too breathless to speak, and Jun wouldn’t even try to conceal the pride on his face for having this much of an effect on you. He lived for this. And you could still feel the smirk on his lips when he leaned in to kiss you, always slow and gentle at first, even though his whole body tensed as he tried to restrain himself.

You’d made it clear that he didn’t have to be this careful when it came to kissing you, so he knew it. He knew it and he used it to his advantage, wanting to drive you to your absolute breaking point before he kissed you harder. Before he touched you where you wanted him to. Before he lost control too, groaning softly into your mouth, and finally, breaking the kiss so he could remove his shirt.

The look in your eyes every time he looked back at you again was something that kept him awake at night, tossing and turning in bed, angry and frustrated because you weren’t here, next to him, looking at him in this exact same way. By the time he kissed you again, he could no longer do it slowly.

He thrived on seeing you flustered. On seeing – and making you say, loudly – how much you wanted him. He was usually the one who asked if he could kiss you, but he always made sure you were the one who begged for more in the end.

↣hoshi

He was the type who rarely ever had to pull away to breathe. He felt like he didn’t need oxygen when you were here and he could breathe in your scent, taste your lips, and feel your touch. More often than not, the only reason why his lips would leave yours was only so he could kiss your neck instead, leaving a trail of tender, wet kisses down to your shoulders.

He’d never kissed you without smiling; he couldn’t. The feeling of your lips against his alone caused an inexplicable form of euphoria that took over his chest and spread over his entire body – fast and hard and overwhelming. It felt so much like a drug, it should have probably been illegal, and maybe that’s why he refused to let go of you the moment he kissed you.

Because you were someone that Soonyoung struggled to control himself around, it was never just a kiss, really. It would take the two of you half an hour to say goodbye at the end of a date sometimes, all because pulling away and breaking the kiss seemed almost blasphemous.

It didn’t even matter that it was negative degrees outside, and you were both leaning over the center console in his car. The engine would be off and the inside of the car felt very much like the outside – cold and freezing – yet you were burning up as he kissed you, his tongue hot against yours.

He’d keep reaching for you, trying to bring you closer to him, never having enough of your body warmth, of the softness of your skin, of you. He’d have you panting as you responded to his kisses with equal fervor; his touch, his taste, him, all of it was so overwhelming, your head was starting to spin, and yet pulling away seemed more painful.

And when the mundane worries at the back of your head would eventually break up the kiss – you had to be at work six hours from now – the two of you would be a mess. Dizzy, disoriented, and shivering as soon as you pulled away, you’d watch each other for another minute, your cheeks and lungs hurting. You’d have to leave soon, and he was already counting down the minutes until he’d get to kiss you again.

↣the8

He had to be holding you when he kissed you. He didn’t necessarily have to wrap his arms around your waist each time he did – that wasn’t always possible, considering how often he needed to feel your lips against his, even if just for a moment – but he would always be holding your hand, or keeping one of his hands on the side of your face.

Maybe it was a way to remind him that you were real—and that you were here, close enough for him to touch—or maybe he just enjoyed the feeling of your bare skin. Possibly both, as Minghao couldn’t begin to count how many times he’d woken up cursing, because the softness of your lips as he held you tightly against him had all been a dream, and there were still days—sometimes weeks—left until he’d see you again.

Naturally, when you two were alone, his need to feel you under his fingertips intensified – there were two people in this room, but he was determined to make it feel like you were one. Your body would be pressed against his, his hands on the small of your back, sliding underneath your shirt, drawing and erasing patterns on your skin, as he kissed you deeper.

His kisses didn’t necessarily have a lot of force in them, they were more messy, needy and rushed, as Minghao focused on so many things at the same time: the taste of your lips, your shivering spine as he gently pushed your body forwards until you were laying on your back with him hovering above you, and the sound of your breaths as you responded to him, following his rhythm and pulling him closer.

It was usually the soft whimpers that passed your lips that would really bring him over the edge. He’d forget that you only had fifteen minutes before you had to get back to work, and he’d make you forget, too – but he made sure it was worth your while.

↣dino

Not someone who was exceptionally good with his words, Chan poured his entire heart into his kisses. You could feel every bit of warmth inside of his chest as soon as his lips touched yours. Every single unsaid “I miss you” reflected in the way he touched your cheek as the kiss deepened. All of the times he thought of you when he was away and all of the times he typed and deleted text messages for you – always thinking he was coming off too needy and desperate – echoed in his shallow breaths as soon as he felt your touch.

His kisses weren’t just full of everything that he was feeling, they were also long and intimate. He’d bring his lips to yours and lock them there for a moment or two before kissing you properly, with gradually growing force.

Although, truthfully, it didn’t really matter who initiated the kiss. You could kiss him first, not even thinking much of it – a quick peck before he had to leave for practice. And he would take his time before pulling away, his hands finding your waist as he held you close, enjoying the warmth of your soft lips and the way your breaths mixed together when you were so close.

The thing about making out with Chan was, he tended to get far too overwhelmed. And he didn’t want you to see how flushed his face was, so he never let you pull away too far when you were kissing. He’d drag the kisses out until he was familiar with the taste of your mouth, and he would always—always—look like this had been his first kiss when you pulled away.

There would be the biggest grin on his face and he would keep glancing at you, incapable of looking at you for too long without his face getting even warmer. He’d try to say something cool, something to show that he wasn’t as affected by this as he really was, but that would only make his flustered state more obvious.

You’d tease him about it, of course. But Chan, although he was absolutely out of it, was quick on his feet.

“Don’t think I won’t kiss you to shut you up,” he’d say in spite of his rosy cheeks and you’d know you only have to make one more comment for him to bring that threat to life.

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