#chan

[incorrectskzquotes]

Chan: whenever I feel sad or frustrated that I can’t fix a problem I look at a picture of all of us together Stray Kids: awwww Chan: and I think if I can keep these dumbasses alive, then I can do fucking anything

[letmeoutofthebasementt]

Do SKZ like hickeys? Giving/receiving

Imma be so fr throughout doing this I got ice cream and was eating it like in between pulls and interpretations but it’s part of my artistic process and I’m never turning down an opportunity to mooch off the people around me by having them buy me things

Chan

He doesn’t like giving hickeys because he gets too carried away. It’s like he gets drunk off the experience and like his self control goes through the roof. Seeing his partner like that will make this man FERAL. But it also distracts him from a lot of things, so he’s more lenient on it. He also doesn’t like when his partner (rightfully) covers/hides a hickey. The rational part of him knows why and understands. The irrational part of him thinks it’s because they’re ashamed of him or something. And that makes him very volatile. He also just feels like giving hickeys is very impulsive in and of itself. Like people don’t think when they do it they just do. And he’s not that type of person. Though he fantasizes about giving hickeys he never would.

He likes receiving them. Practically he can’t most of the time unless they’re on places he wouldn’t show because he’s an idol. But he loves it when it’s someone he trusts. But they have to work for it. Chan went all emo though so like…Hickey trauma? Sad because of a lack of hickeys? “Everything makes me think of him/her?” Idk what it’s about but like he’s sad about it. But yeah he has to regulate himself and set rules for whoever’s giving them like “You can only put them here here” or if he knows he’ll be performing with a shirt off he has to make sure it’s below the belt. I was abt to ask a very serious question of the audience but this isn’t the time nor place so imma move on. Afterwards he always needs to lay back and self reflect on what the hell happened. Having hickeys on him just genuinely makes him very smug. Like “Yeah my partner wants me bitches” or something.

Minho

Literal legend by Ayesha Erotica came on as soon as I went to pull for this. Minho the man you are

ANYWAYS.

He loves giving hickeys. He gives them enthusiastically. They’re a requirement when he’s getting down and dirty with someone he’s in a relationship with. Or even when he’s bored and suddenly feeling “inspired” or feels the urge to. He’s very open-minded and fair when it comes to it, so yeah already getting he probably will let his partner give him one too. He’s also aware that having hickeys on too obvious places may ruin people’s perceptions on whoever he gives it to so he tries to make them in places easily hidden by clothing. And will respect it if they ask him not to. Actually scratch the relationship thing he gives random flings hickeys too with 0 shame. He’s very disciplined with it though. But he’ll also give as many as he can. He also likes giving them wherever he can.

He honestly would let someone give him hickeys if he wasn’t an idol. But he doesn’t want to deal with the stress that would come with them accidentally being seen. He’s very logical in that aspect. In theory he’d love it but solely in theory. But sometimes if his partner gets lucky he’ll let them leave them on like his inner thighs or something. It’ll be quite an achievement though.

Changbin

He likes giving hickeys. He’s like Chan when it comes to getting lost in it. Addicted to it. Having little self control when it comes to leaving them all over. He likes to indulge in it. Definitely the type that has the decorum not to leave them on the neck but shoulders and collarbones are his favorite places to leave them. He fantasizes about it even. And he likes seeing them. He’s very passionate about it and when doing it, I think.

He likes receiving them but another where his partner would have to work hard to be permitted to leave them. Another who’s worried. Hes an idol, he can’t be caught with them. He likes receiving a lot of them though. He fantasizes about receiving them too.

Hyunjin

Imma crash out. Genuinely. He was so eager to do this he literally cut into Changbin’s. I was trying to draw the last few for Changbin then BAM. HYUNJIN. OVERWHELMINGLY HYUNJIN.

And guess what card I got?

Lust.

BECAUSE HWS HYUNJIN.

What if I cried? Then what?

And guess what song came on after this? Head sprung.

I’m sick and tired of Hyunjin. SICK AND TIRED.

But yeah.

I’m just taking the lust as an overall card and we all know what lust is. If you wanna know what the card specifically means…Google it? I dunno

Now that it’s HIS TURN

Surprise surprise he loves giving hickeys. I’m sooooo shocked. He likes giving a lot of them. 007 just came on. I have never heard this song before. I’m not surprised THIS is what’s going on right now. THIS ISNT EVEN MY PLAYLIST IM GONNA CRY. Anyways he likes them a lot. See…I have a lot of cards here. None of which I can even get any real meaning for

Hyunjin is stressing me out

He’s down for receiving hickeys and unlike the others doesn’t give a shit someone may see? Or rather doesn’t think about it. Someone in power probably pulled rank and said they’d do XYZ if it happened. Probably Chan. And he’s graciously choosing to pretend that never ever happened.

Han

Han is always such a breath of fresh air after Hyunjin. I love Han. I eat sleep and breathe Han. Han should stay the way he is because he’s perfect and I love him

He doesn’t mind giving hickeys and likes giving them in obvious places. I’m getting sun imagery so this is definitely his Leo Mars shining through. He thinks the hickeys keep anyone from trying to steal his partner away from him. Especially since as an idol he’s often gone. After he probably self reflects a lot. It also starts many o’ inner conflict when he reflects because it makes him really think on the why. He doesn’t want to think of or speak on the why.

Another who doesn’t mind receiving them. He high key WANTS the public to see them. Like a badge of honor. Very open and honest about their existence. Fantasizes about being all marked up with hickeys and fans catching him.

Felix

He doesn’t like it, point blank period. He believes it’s too aggressive and doesn’t want to hurt his partner in the process. He’d just feel very ashamed and guilty about it if he did. And he feels like the act of doing it just lacks any compassion for the receiver.

How do I say this…Felix likes receiving hickeys wrapped into a package of degradation. And aggressiveness. See…He thinks it may hurt because that’s how he likes it. When it hurts in the process. DONT SHOOT THE MESSENGER. Another who often can’t because he’s an idol. And he constantly changes his mind on the matter in general. But generally he enjoys it.

Seungmin

He likes giving hickeys. I don’t know where but he probably has his favorite spot that’s both enjoyable to give hickeys to and inconspicuous. He’s aggressive with it too. He won’t if his partner doesn’t want him to, though. He’s just generally very patient with his partner. Getting this links with his shadow self??? And I don’t wanna know??? So I won’t ask???

Very bluntly, he likes receiving hickeys. That’s all folks.

I.N

He does enjoy giving hickeys. In theory. Practically he’s never done it and thinking of doing it scares the fuck out of him for many reasons. Reasons we won’t get into fully but include and are not limited to; the humiliation he’d feel if it didn’t work, the fact he doesn’t fucking know the proper hickey technique and he’d rather die than ask one of his hyungs about hickey giving technique, he doesn’t know if he’d be too aggressive with it, doesn’t want to be turned down if he asked, etc. if asked he’d try with much swiftness though.

He doesn’t want to receive one AT ALL. I’m getting he thinks it’d hurt and he’d suffer and end up crying sobbing rolling on the floor about it. And don’t get me started on all the risks if the public finds out. Even if a staff member finds out and leaks it. It would ruin him and he’s not taking that risk for a fancy mouth bruise. Hell no.

[daisymbin]

angst prompt #24 + dino

maybe where chan forgets yns bday because of his busy schedule >< (u can disregard this idea if u have other ideas in mind!) ((also up to u if u wanna make it a happy ending or not ><))

I swear dino w angst always hits different for some reason...that boy is just...lowkey kinda angst coded 😭 thank you for requesting!!!!! 🤍

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist!

angst prompt #24: "I waited for you, but you never came."

you had been excited for weeks. chan had promised to spend your birthday together—just the two of you, no distractions. even three days ago, he had smiled at you over dinner, reaching across the table to hold your hands.

"it’s gonna be perfect," he’d said. "just wait."

and so you did.

you waited all morning, telling yourself he was probably running late or finishing up something important. by noon, you started to feel the edges of doubt creeping in, but you brushed it off. he was busy; he’d show up soon. you sent a text to check in—no response.

afternoon turned into evening, and the silence from him was deafening. by 6pm, you gave up on texting or calling altogether. your stomach churned every time you glanced at the untouched cake on the counter.

by 8pm, you couldn’t stand sitting on the couch any longer. you slipped into bed, hoping sleep would take away the sting of disappointment, but your mind wouldn’t stop spinning.

he forgot.

the words echoed relentlessly, a cruel chant in the quiet of your bedroom.

you turned over for the hundredth time, staring at the clock on your nightstand. you weren’t sure if it was the lump in your throat or the ache in your chest that kept you awake, but both felt equally miserable.

then, just as you were considering giving up on sleep entirely, you heard the front door open.

your heart jumped, anger and sadness twisting together. you sat up as footsteps hurried toward the bedroom. the door creaked open, and there he was—chan, looking worn out, his hair tousled and face full of guilt.

"i’m so sorry," he blurted out, rushing inside, his face pale. "i messed up. i swear, i didn’t mean to—"

"you forgot," you said, cutting him off, your voice quiet but firm, the weight of the day pressing into your words with heavy disappointment.

"no," he started, stepping closer, desperation in his eyes. "it’s not like that. i’ve just been really busy with work and rehearsals, and everything piled up. i didn’t even realize how late it got." he rubbed his hand over his face. "i swear, i never meant to forget. i… i should’ve called you, i should’ve done something."

you blinked, trying to process his words. "so, you’ve been busy all day? that’s why you didn’t even reach out?"

"yeah," he said guiltily. "i had everything planned, but the schedule got crazy. and then when i finally had time to think about it, i just… lost track of everything. i didn’t mean to hurt you." he walked closer, his eyes full of regret. "i’ve been such an idiot."

you turned away, trying to hold back the tears. "chan.. i thought… i thought you just forgot about me."

"no, i didn’t forget," he said, voice cracking as he moved closer. "i’ve been so wrapped up in everything, and then i didn’t even realize how much time had passed. i’m such a bad boyfriend." his shoulder slumps.

"you didn’t even think to tell me you were busy, chan," you whispered, your voice trembling. "you could’ve at least said something, but instead i spent the whole day waiting for you, thinking you’d forgotten me."

he closed the space between you, his hands reaching for yours. "please don’t think that. i would never forget about you. you mean everything to me." his voice dropped to a whisper. "i just… got caught up. i’m so sorry. i’m really, really sorry."

you pulled your hands away, stepping back slightly. "i waited for you, chan, but you never came."

he winced, as if each word struck him like a blow. "i know, and i’m sorry. but, let me make it up to you. please, there’s still time. we can still have dinner. i’ll cook if we need to, or we can get something, i don’t care. but i want to spend the rest of your birthday with you. please."

you shook your head, the sadness still weighing heavily on you. "it’s late, chan. everything’s closed. the day’s almost over."

he took a deep breath, his eyes softening with determination. "then i’ll make dinner. we can still do something. please, i don’t want to lose the chance to make this right." he stepped closer again, his eyes pleading. "please. just give me a chance."

you looked at him, seeing the exhaustion and regret in his eyes, and something inside you softened. it wasn’t perfect. it wasn’t what you’d imagined for your birthday, but it was still him, still chan, trying to make it right. you sighed, a small part of you already forgiving him.

"fine," you said quietly, though your voice was still tinged with disappointment. "but you’re lighting the candles on the cake."

chan’s face lit up with relief, and he pulled you toward the kitchen. as he fumbled with the candles, trying to light them, he mumbled under his breath, apologizing over and over.

finally, the candles were lit, and he turned to you, his face softening. "happy birthday," he said, his voice full of regret but also a little hope.

you nodded slowly, a faint smile playing on your lips as you looked at the cake. "thank you, chan."

he smiled sheepishly, stepping closer. "there’s one more thing," he said, reaching into his pocket. his hands were slightly shaky as he pulled out a small, carefully wrapped box and handed it to you. "i… i got this for you months ago, i was planning on giving it to you earlier, but with everything happening today, i couldn’t." he looked at you, almost nervously. "i hope you like it."

you stared at the box in your hands, confused but touched. "chan… you got me a present?"

he smiled weakly. "yeah. i’ve been keeping it safe, i wanted it to be special."

you slowly unwrapped it, your heart fluttering with anticipation. inside was a delicate necklace, a simple silver chain with a small pendant shaped like a crescent moon.

"i thought it would be perfect," chan said softly, his voice almost apologetic. "you've always loved the moon, and how it has many faces but its unchaging, always there."

tears pricked your eyes as you looked up at him. despite everything, this was the gift he had been thinking of for months. "chan… this is beautiful."

"i know i messed up today," he whispered, "but i promise i’ll make it up to you. i’ll never forget you again. you mean the world to me."

you smiled softly, wiping away the stray tear that had escaped. "thank you, chan. i love it. and i love you."

"happy birthday," he whispered, pulling you into a hug.

as he held you close, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope. maybe this birthday wasn’t perfect, but with chan, you knew you’d get another chance, there's always next year—and that was all that mattered.

[cheoliehansoliereblogs]

i'm dead

mind your business (m)

Pairing: Frenemy!fem!reader x minder reader!chan

Genre: supernatural comedy, smut

Word count: 12.4k

tags: mean!reader, mean!chan, mentions needing to puke or die (both overdramtic af), implied consent (mind reading about desire and wants without audible consent), names (good girl or dirty girl), claustrophilia, stocking ripping, fingering, cunniligus, rough sex, brief spanking, unprotected sex.

Summary: If Chan had to read anyone’s mind, it had to be yours—the one person who seemed to loathe him with every ounce of your being. But before Halloween day, when that wish is suddenly granted, he begins to realize he’s opened a can of worms far bigger than he ever imagined—one that can’t be sealed shut again.

author note: hello, this bitch late but at least she's here thank you for @diamonddaze01 and @haologram for betareading for me i love yall and eveyone else enjoy!

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @kyeomiis @wonwooz1-blog @horanghaezone @stagefrjghts @pantumin @aaniag @mochisdayone @gyuguys

“I don’t know what to be for Halloween.”

“Well, right now what you’re wearing is pretty scary.”

Lee Chan had never met anyone he couldn’t knock down a peg—not that he ever had to try. Everyone adored him, from classmates to coworkers, even Seungkwan, who followed his playful jabs with free lunches instead of a comeback. He was easygoing, always getting along with everyone. That is until you infiltrated his friend group. You weren’t like the others, and for the first time, Chan wasn’t sure if his effortless charm would be enough to dissolve your natural snark.

Chan shot you an unamused smile, his eyes narrowing as you answered his question. The two costumes he held drooped at his sides, a patient frustration written all over his features. “What are you even doing here if you won’t help me?”

You lifted your half-filled glass, the chill of the drink seeping through your fingers. “The free drinks, of course.”

“Of course,” he echoed dryly, his tone laced with sarcasm. “Well, maybe leave the opinions to those who actually care, like Soonyoung here?”

Soonyoung beamed up at Chan, his excitement bubbling over as he playfully tugged at his friend’s hand like an overly enthusiastic toddler. “Aww, always here for you, buddy!”

You couldn’t resist a jab. “Well, if you did something interesting for once in your life, maybe I wouldn’t have to entertain myself.”

Chan groaned, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Never mind. I’m just going to pick something else. Make yourself useful and try to stay quiet, okay?”

You scoffed, getting up from the sofa seat. “Whatever. I’m gonna find something to eat.”

Chan tried his best to stay positive around you, but it was difficult when every social encounter turned into a game of mental chess. But instead of being an actual opponent, you acted like the master, playing with his temperament as if he were merely a pawn. It was exhausting—trying to keep things cordial while knowing you were always pushing his buttons, testing tolerance, and working against him as if your sarcastic replies and eyerolls carried a vindictive purpose.

Chan collapsed onto his bed the moment you left the room, feeling completely defeated. Now, it was just him and Soonyoung left to figure out what he should wear for Halloween, mere days away from now.

“Why is she always like that?” he muttered, focused on the wrong thing,

Soonyoung shrugged, scooting beside you with his legs crossed on the bed. “I’m sure she means well; she just has…her own way of showing it.”

Chan sat up, looking at him in disbelief. “She’s hated me since the moment we met at the New Year’s party, and I still don’t get why.”

“That’s not true.” Soonyoung reassured, gently patting his friend on the head. “Maybe your personalities just clash a bit. She gets along with everyone else in the building.”

“Yeah, but why?” Chan sighed. “What did I even do?”

Soonyoung gave him a reassuring pat. “Chan, it’s not your fault. I’m sure she’ll come around eventually.”

The more people like Soonyoung, or Seokmin, or Jeonghan reassured him that you’d come around, the less Chan believed it. It seemed like there would be nothing that could change your mind about him. Yet he couldn’t just accept that you disliked him for no reason. There had to be something behind the mean exterior, the jabs directed at either his character or even looks. Like he’s some kind of pushover. He would spend entire days wracking his brain, trying to understand why, and nothing would make sense. 

What made it worse was how much it bothered him—maybe because you saw each other almost daily, living in the same neighborhood. You’d grown close to everyone else like you were a permanent fixture here, but when it came to him, it felt like you went out of your way to get under his skin. Your cold glances, your sharp remarks, all seemed to gnaw at him, twisting him up inside like a steel knife in an already gashing wound (okay, maybe he was being dramatic). He just couldn’t stand it.

If he could, he’d look right into your mind, figure out what you were thinking, make sense of your actions, and—just maybe—finally understand why you behave the way you do.

But he didn’t have time to dwell on it; there was a Halloween party to plan. Every year, the local gaming café downstairs—where he’d ironically ended up working at—hosted a Halloween bash with exclusive promotions. And every year, it was followed by a more exclusive all-out rager at his apartment, which he shared with a bunch of his friends above the cafe. It was something nearly everyone on the block looked forward to each year, and this time, Chan was in charge of the activities. The activities coordinator, Seungcheol had proclaimed.

That’s why Chan has been asking for all kinds of opinions lately, even yours. Being the natural people-pleaser he is, he felt as if he’d been running around everywhere to get everyone’s stamp of approval. He would go up and down, left and right, and even hold surveys at the cash register for strangers' opinions. He had a habit of making things perfect, and he wasn’t going to let your cynicism ruin it for him.

“Come on, help me figure out what to wear, bro. My night depends on it.”

Soonyoung had been helpful—thank goodness for that—and now that was one less problem to worry about, Chan felt a bit of relief. If he could just get through his shift at the cafe without losing his mind and manage to sneak in some few minutes of party planning, he would have a good day.

“You figure out what costume makes you look less of a loser, yet? Trick question, it really doesn’t matter what you pick. You’ll still look like a loser.”

Chan tilted his head, unfazed by your rude comments as he poured his tenth cup of ramen for the night—three of them for the same customer. “Why do you care? Don’t you have some puppies to kick?”

Your smile remained unfaltering, conniving as ever. “I cleared my schedule to help Seokmin and Soonyoung rank up. Wonwoo is playing with them this round. Just here to grab some Kickstart.”

“Ah, so another puppy is safe for a day from the wicked Witch of the West. Congratulations on your fleeting moment of decency.” He turned, striding over to the customers waiting for their ramen, while you annoyingly trailed closely behind. You grabbed your favorite blackberry Kickstart from the fridge, the bright can a stark contrast to the dim lighting of the café, and tossed a couple of crumpled bills in the direction of the cash register as if you’d done it before.

“You’re helping plan the Halloween party, right? Seungcheol mentioned it when I asked what I should bring,” you said, your tone almost too casual, as if you were friends.

Chan scoffed, carefully setting the steaming bowls of ramen down in front of the waiting customers before heading back to his station. “You, being courteous? That’s new. What do you want?”

With a sly smile, you leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “I just wanted to let you know that if you really want to make the party fun, you can ask me. My ideas will probably be better than whatever you come up with.” The confidence in your voice made it clear you expected him to take you seriously, but how could he when every little word you managed to muster was belittling?

Chan grit his teeth, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. He unscrewed the cap of a water bottle from the fridge and downed it in one swift gulp, the cool liquid barely offering any relief from his irritation. As he crushed the empty bottle in his hands, he aimed for the trash can but missed, the bottle clattering to the floor with a dull thud. Sounding exasperated, he bent down to pick it up, tossing it into the can with a bit more force than necessary.

Straightening up, he shot you a sharp glare. “I can handle it myself, thanks,” he muttered, his voice tight with annoyance.

“Really? Because I’m offering my help here,” you replied, your tone dripping with an offensive amount of condescending sincerity. “I’m being generous with my time and giving you the chance to create something…well, palatable from this party.” You exaggeratedly pretended to choose your words carefully, a teasing smile playing on your lips, poking at his alleged incompetence.

“You want to help?” Chan challenged, his tone cutting. “How about just enjoying the party instead of making it all about yourself? Some of us actually have work to do.”

He fixed you with a glare that held the slightest hint of malice before finally turning away and returning to his tasks.

“Defensive much?” you shot back, a glimpse of interest on your face as you raised an eyebrow.

“No,” he replied, his voice firm. “Just self-respecting.”

“Fine,” you said, turning back to your friends as you walked away. “Just don’t come begging for my help when your party goes to shit.”

Chan found himself screaming into his pillows that night, the fabric muffling his frustrated cries as he banged his head against them in sheer exasperation.

“What the heck is her deal?” he murmured to himself, his voice muffled and thick with irritation. He buried his face deeper into the pillows, desperate to escape the relentless thoughts fogging in his mind. The familiar scent of cotton and fabric softener offered very little comfort as he replayed the interaction over and over, making him as puzzled as ever.

He hadn’t experienced bullying like this since high school, a time when everyone was preoccupied with either being popular or getting into the best colleges. He was neither; instead, he was a secret third option: just trying to survive.

“Always making fun of me. Always belittling me. Always making me feel like crap.” He pulled the covers over his eyes, seeking refuge from his loud thoughts. “Why can’t she just tell me what I did to make her hate me? I’m not a mind reader.”

Unable to sleep, Chan gazed up at the night sky through his bedroom window, seeing it enveloped in the vast pitch-blackness pressing down like a weight. He took a steadying breath, hoping to clear his mind. Not a single star graced him with its presence—only the lone moon, barely there but still noticeable—how relatable—hanging in the sky like a quiet witness to his restless thoughts.

“I’m going insane here, so if there’s a god out there, could he—or she—make my life easier for the next few days? Just a little?” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not asking for superpowers like telepathy or anything. Just…let me pull off a party that everyone actually enjoys. Even her. Maybe then she won’t be so…her all the time.”

It was wishful thinking, but worth a shot, and if Chan was known for anything, it was taking chances—no matter how slim the odds.

Chan was somehow able to sleep that night finally, hair straying all over his face, until he sat up at the realization of a lack of a blaring alarm, “Oh, shit.”

His phone battery had died, and his charger defective and rendered useless. He scrambled to Seungcheol’s room next door, avoiding the obstacles of his shirts strewn across the floor, and plugged the bead phone to his housemate’s charger, impatiently tapping until the phone lit up to greet him.

9:48. Just about 18 minutes before his morning shift starts and almost no time to get ready. “Shit, shit.”

‘What’s that noise?’

Chan glanced over at Seungcheol, who was sprawled out across his bed, a half-conscious casualty of the previous night’s escapades. It seemed he’d had company, judging by the tangled mess of clothes scattered on the floor, and apparently, they'd had more than just a “decent” time.

“Sorry, Cheol. Gotta borrow your charger. I’ll bring it back later.”

Seungcheol’s response was a muffled groan, his arm barely twitching in acknowledgment. Within the incoherent noise, Chan could just make out the unspoken message: ‘Just go away.’

“Got it, see you at work, buddy,” Chan muttered, plugging in his phone with a quick tap to check the time before heading for the door.

Another groan drifted from the bed, thick with irritation. ‘So loud.’

Chan got himself ready in a hurry, forgoing a shower and compensating with an extra-long brush of his teeth and a thick layer of deodorant. Fresh breath and a quick spritz of cologne would have to do for today. The cafe would be filled with people who wouldn’t care anyway.

He rushed downstairs to clock in, throwing on an apron over his lackluster clothes and prepping the makeshift kitchen in the back.

‘Ugh, my back is killing me.’

Chan turned at the faint sound of a familiar voice, spotting Minghao slouched in one of the worn chairs in the employees-only room, head leaned back, eyes half-closed in what looked like exhaustion.

“Hey, Hao. You okay?”

Minghao glanced up, his face breaking into a grin that seemed a bit forced, but reassuring nonetheless. “Morning, Chan. Yeah, I’m good. What’s up?”

“Just checking in—I thought I heard you say something about your back?”

Minghao’s grin faded into a puzzled expression, brow furrowing as if he were rewinding through his own memory. “Hmm? I didn’t say anything. But… Now that you mention it, my back has been sore lately. All the competitions piling up, you know? Guess martial arts are starting to weigh down on this old, elderly body of mine.” He chuckled at his own self-deprecating joke.

Chan gave a sympathetic nod. “Well, if you need a break, just take one, alright? I’m sure Seungcheol or Jeonghan wouldn’t mind.”

Minghao’s smile softened. “Thanks, little buddy. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Chan smiled back. “Anytime.”

As Chan turned to leave, he heard a voice, faint but unmistakable, despite the owner of the voice being in the same room: ‘Chan’s a good kid.’ 

He paused mid-step, his eyes widening as he processed the thought, lingering in the air like a distant echo. He looked back at Minghao, eyebrows knit in confusion. “Did…did you just say something?”

Minghao chuckled, giving him a casual wave as if everything were normal. “No? I’ll be out in a sec. How about you go warm up the coffee pot for me, hmm?”

“Got it…” Chan said, hesitating as he walked out, still glancing over his shoulder, his mind racing with questions. Had he really heard that voice? Or was exhaustion playing tricks on him? 

He flipped the cash register on, the familiar hum filling the quiet of the early morning. Chan meticulously counted the bills, making sure he had the right amount of change and neatly stacked cash, each dollar lined up perfectly. Once satisfied, he moved to the glass door, flicking the open sign to life with a soft click. The neon light flickered, casting a bright and loud, welcoming invitation to anyone passing by. Chan took a deep breath, feeling the calm before the inevitable rush.

‘I hope they have the good ramen and not that crappy store brand shit. You can totally tell the difference.’

The voice drifted into Chan’s mind, oddly clear and distinct as if someone were speaking right beside him—except no one was there. The words had a casual, almost lazy tone, echoing in his head like the distant buzz of a radio left on in another room. His gaze darted around the empty shop, his pulse quickening as he scanned the quiet space, lit only by the harsh glow of the neon open sign.

He shook his head, trying to dismiss it, but the words still lingered, as if they were waiting for him to acknowledge them. This voice, like Minghao’s earlier, felt close yet completely detached, belonging to someone…elsewhere.

The chimes on the door jingled, pulling Chan from his thoughts as he glanced up to see a familiar figure. Finally, he could match the voice he’d been hearing to a face.

“Hey, Chan. The usual, please,” Beomgyu greeted, his tone dry, with the same dark circles under his eyes from late-night gaming marathons.

‘Is it me, or does he look shittier than usual?’ The words echoed in Chan’s mind, clear as if spoken aloud, though Beomgyu’s lips never moved. Chan froze, the unexpected comment hitting him square in the chest—both offending and unnerving him.

“Excuse me?” Chan retorted, defensively narrowing his eyes.

Beomgyu blinked, looking slightly taken aback. “Uh… the usual? Kimchi ramen with cheese and a Cherry slush?”

‘Man, hasn’t he worked here for, like, a year? Doesn’t he have this down by now?’

“What? Of course, I do!” Chan shot back, his voice sharp with irritation.

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, now clearly baffled. “Dude, what are you talking about? Just give me my stuff.”

Chan swallowed, feeling a strange tension creeping over him. He forced himself to look down, suddenly unsure whether he was hearing Beomgyu–or actually going insane.

“Right. Sorry. It'll be out in a second,” Chan mumbled, suddenly sheepish as he accepted the cash, his usual confidence thrown off-kilter.

Beomgyu gave him a lingering, puzzled look before shrugging it off and drifting over to his usual seat in the corner. As he walked away, Chan felt an odd prickling sensation in the back of his mind—the familiar voice filtering through, more unsettling this time.

‘Has he gone psycho or something?’

Chan’s heart skipped, his eyes widening slightly as he processed the words that had somehow entered his mind, clear as day, despite Beomgyu’s silent, closed lips. His fingers clenched the counter as he steadied himself, wondering if he was finally cracking under the stress or if something far stranger was at play.

‘Another day, another W!’

Another voice then grew louder, closer, and was growing more anxious, sweat beading down his forehead out of bewilderment. What in the fuck was happening?

Seokmin emerged from the doors, seeing Chan with a bright smile as he leaned up against the counter. “Hi Chan, a couple of sprites and two orders of rose spicy rice cakes please.”

‘I’ma burn through iron into silver today. I just know it!’

Chan’s hands hovered over the register, a sense of déjà vu creeping over him as he felt the words echo in his mind. His fingers shook slightly as he pressed the buttons. “Y-you trying to rank up in Overwatch again today?” he asked, his voice a little unsteady.

Seokmin laughed, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah! Wonwoo and Jeonghan are coming by to play on their day off.”

‘Ooh, I should check if they have that series in stock again. I missed it last time.’

“What series were you looking for again?” Chan asked, trying to keep his tone casual as he glanced up from the register.

Seokmin blinked, a little startled, clearly wondering how Chan had guessed. “Oh yeah, I was gonna ask about it. What was it called again?” ‘Kindergarden wars–’

“Kindergarten Wars, right? The Kindergarten Cop of Manga? That one?” Chan asked, his voice coming out a bit too smooth for his own comfort.

Seokmin’s eyes widened in surprise, a laugh escaping him. “Whoa, I just barely remembered the title! You’re on a roll, buddy. But yeah, that’s the one! Do you have it in stock?”

“Yeah, we should have a few copies in. I’ll grab one for you when your order’s ready,” Chan replied, managing a grin, though stark comparison to the panic festering in his body.

"Aw, you’re the best, Chan. Thanks!” Seokmin flashed a wide grin as he swiped his card, practically bouncing toward his usual corner. He arranged a couple of chairs, setting up a cozy little space for his friends, buzzing around like a busy bee as he prepped the area, clearly itching to dive into his day.

Meanwhile, Chan’s nerves were going through it. He kept glancing at the entrance, anxiety creeping up his spine as he wondered if the next person through the door would, once again, broadcast their every thought straight into his head. Just thinking about it made him want to puke, the effects of the bizarre events not dissipating in the slightest.

The rest of Chan’s day became a relentless cascade of intrusive thoughts, each one amplifying the disquiet simmering inside him. Every new customer brought a fresh wave of private musings, some harmless, others startlingly personal, or worse yet, straight creepy. The sheer volume of it all began to blur together into an overwhelming hum.

‘Fuck not again.’

‘Hell yeah, a new skin!’

‘He’s so annoying I wish he would just die already.’

‘I swear, they said ‘one more game’ like an hour ago.’

‘They’re all trash. Worthless. I’m surrounded by idiots who can’t play for shit.’

‘They won’t last. She’ll cheat on him, or he’ll leave her. It’s inevitable.’

The familiar buzz of the cafe felt unusually oppressive, almost suffocating, as Chan struggled to tune out the voices around him. He found himself straining to differentiate between what was actually spoken and what slipped uninvited into his mind, the line between reality and thought as thin as it was maddening.

"Hey, Hao, I’m gonna take five."

Chan didn’t wait for a reply. He bolted out of the business and up the narrow staircase to his residence, his pulse hammering in his ears. The familiar murmur of echoing voices trailed him, each step feeling heavier than the last, the whispers chasing him even as he tried to leave them behind. It wasn't until he closed the door with a soft but resolute click that they faded, now hushed but still there. Haunting him.

“What the hell is happening to me?” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the echo of voices still faintly buzzing in his mind. His hands tightened in his hair, fingers digging in as if grounding himself might silence the flood.

He shut his eyes, breathing in uneven breaths as he clamped his hands over his ears and somehow soothing the thoughts determined to run rampant. But every time he let his guard down, snippets of thought would slip through—fragmented phrases, stray judgments, random anxieties—taking up headspace like ghosts he couldn’t shake. 

‘Why does he get everything? It should be me.’

‘The world would be better off without most of them, if not all.’

‘Where the hell is my ramen?’

‘I hope I didn’t get stood up. I sent her Uber money.’

Nothing about this made sense. It was impossible—just yesterday, his life had been normal, and now he was hearing voices that sounded exactly like his friends’ private thoughts, whether he wanted to or not. This wasn’t some supernatural CW drama, no Halloween special with a secret message all along for the protagonist. This was real life, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d swear he was somehow…reading minds.

The thought sparked a fresh jolt of panic, twisting his insides into knots. It was a fear he hadn’t known lurked within him, clawing its way to the surface and leaving his stomach churning. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to force it away, to dismiss it as some ridiculous, passing delusion. But the voices only grew louder, like an insistent, rising tide that wouldn’t let him brush this off as a mere joke or a temporary glitch in the simulation. No, they clung to him, refusing to fade—unyielding, pressing against his mind as if daring him to question his own sanity.

Then there was a knock. Soft at first, followed by the hesitant creak of the door easing open. Chan barely registered it, too consumed by the relentless flood of thoughts racing through his head, repeating to himself, “You’re not real, you’re not real…”

“Chan?”

His eyes flew open, finally taking in the figure silhouetted in the doorway—you. Your expression was a blend of concern and hesitation as you stepped cautiously into his room. A pang of surprise coursed through him, igniting a spark of defensiveness that flared to life within him, seeing you making the weight on his head worse. He forced himself to hold your gaze, feeling exposed under the weight of your possible scrutiny. “W-what do you want?” he stammered, the words escaping him in apprehension.

You raised an eyebrow, though your usual edge seemed softened. “Minghao asked me to come get you. He’s worried. Looks like he was right—finally lost your mind, or something?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he hissed, barely keeping his voice steady.

You raised an eyebrow. “Chan—”

“Save it.” He cut you off, his tone sharp, eyes narrowing as he took a half-step back, almost as if he expected you to throw something back his way. Just as you always have. “I’m not gonna take whatever crap you’re planning, so if that’s your game, just forget it.”

You blinked, caught off guard, a flash of irritation tightening your expression. “Wow,” you muttered, crossing your arms with a look that was half offense, half amusement. “Who the hell pissed in your cereal?”

“I’m not feeling well, alright? And you don’t make it any easier. If you think I’m going to keep letting you walk all over me, forget it. Go pick on someone else.”

“Wow, look at you finally picking up your backbone from the floor,” you taunted, slowly closing the distance between you. Your voice dripped with mockery as you studied him, taking in the tense lines of his posture and the way his jaw clenched in irritation. “If this is about the party, the offer still stands. I know what I said, but—”

“But nothing. I didn’t need your help then, and I don’t need it now. Just piss off.” His voice cut through the air, sharp and defensive, as if he was trying to shield himself from your probing.

“Ooh, look at you using big words,” you snickered tilting your head as you leaned in slightly, your eyes narrowing in challenge. “Is all the stress of pleasing everyone finally catching up to you? Or are you just realizing you’re not capable of doing something that requires responsibility?”

Chan stepped closer, piercing through you with a sharp glare as your smile broadened, infused with a stubborn determination that only irritated him further. No matter what he said, you remained resolute, and he could sense his resolve beginning to crack under the weight of your taunts, struggling to maintain his composure.

“Or,” he began, feeling the voice in his head finally recede as a surge of courage washed over him. “I have so much of my own shit going on. Ever thought about that? Now, why don't you turn around and mind your goddamn business before  I should teach you how to shut up while I’m at it.” The dominance in his tone surprised even him, and for the first time, he felt like he was finally in control of himself and his newfound ability.

You hesitated, caught off guard by the intensity in his eyes, the way it deepened the timbre of his voice, radiating uncontainable energy you’d never seen from Chan before. The confidence that once danced in your gaze faltered, giving way to a glint of surprise as you struggled to hold onto your composure. Your lips parted slightly, words caught in your throat as you processed his unexpected boldness—and the effect it was having on you.

‘Holy shit.’

Your voice echoed in his mind, sending a thrill through him as his lips stretched from ear to ear menacingly. Finally—finally—he was the one with the upper hand.

“What? Nothing to say now?” he challenged, relishing the moment.

‘Holy shit, he’s so hot when he’s mad.’

Confusion softened his features for a brief moment, and he couldn’t help but let out a, “What?”

“I…I didn’t say anything.”

‘Oh god, am I sweating? Can he smell me? Holy shit, he’s so close to me right now.’

Chan wasn’t sure what he was hearing right now. Especially whatever this was. His mind was already spinning from the obnoxiously loud and relentless voices echoing in his head from earlier—this was something else. The anxiety of your voice in his head, laced with something vulnerable he’s never seen in you before, threw him off-kilter. He felt heat creep into his cheeks as he processed the stray thoughts that weren’t his own, thoughts that broke through the background noise with an unexpected force.

He drew in a breath, barely steady, as he took in every flicker of your expression—the way your lips quivered as if on the edge of saying something, then closed again, and how your gaze dropped just briefly, as if to gather strength, before lifting to meet his, defiant but with a hint of uncertainty in your gaze. That simmering frustration from earlier dissolved, replaced by a charged curiosity that spread through him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, letting his words roll out slowly, teasingly, testing the waters of this sudden change in power.

You glanced up, eyes widening slightly as if caught off guard, your shoulders tensing as though bracing against an invisible force. He could practically feel the hurried, jumbled thoughts in your head racing, flickering across your face—hesitation, curiosity, that rare glint of resolve that never seemed to completely fade. It was almost…endearing.

The moment felt charged, like standing on the brink of something electrifying and forbidden. Chan found himself leaning into it, savoring the way his voice dropped, roughened, responding instinctively to this unguarded version of you.

“What?” he murmured, his smile laced with challenge. “Cat got your tongue?”

You drew in a slow breath, fingers clutching the doorframe behind you as if anchoring yourself, your gaze flickering from his face to his hands and then back again, as though the very air around you had thinned. 

"Just…” Your voice faltered, lingering in the air, yet you held his gaze, a reluctant tension in your eyes, as if resisting an urge falling deep down a pit you’ve already managed to avoid for so long.

“Just what?” he pressed, amusement saturating his tone, relishing in your timid silence.

You hesitated, pressing your lips together before looking away. “Just… get back to work,” you muttered, fingers clenching the door frame for a moment before finally releasing it as you turned to go.

‘That…was crazy.’

Chan watched you leave, barely holding back a grin as a strange, exhilarating sense of control lingered. For the first time, he felt like he had turned the tables. This bizarre predicament suddenly had its perks.

As the thought settled, another realization dawned: maybe these powers—or whatever they were—could be harnessed. And you, of all people, might just be the key. Finally, it seemed you had some use after all.

The rest of the day passed with surprising ease, a sense of control settling over Chan as he slowly came to terms with this new ability. Whatever this was, if it meant you kept your distance and stayed in check, now it was about time you tasted a bit of your own medicine.

Meanwhile, you kept to the far side of the room, throwing him occasional glances that were equal parts wary and curious, as if still processing the shift that had unfolded between you. The quiet in your demeanor was foreign—almost like a subtle retreat—but Chan could still hear every single thought racing through your mind, echoing around him, feeding his ego.

‘Fuck, why is he looking at me like that?’

The echo of your uncertainties only made Chan’s grin widen. Each new thought layered itself over the rest, but somehow, yours always came through with striking clarity, as if your mind was the loudest voice in the room. He wasn’t sure if he was honing in on it by instinct or if his newfound ability had a mind of its own, drawn to you by sheer force of will—or intrigue.

‘It’s like he’s seeing right through me…oh my god, can you see my underwear or something? I’m gonna kill myself.’

You visibly clenched your thighs, turning away from Chan to avoid his gaze but he was the only thing on his mind. You couldn’t even enjoy the game you were playing anymore. 

‘God, he looks really good…makes me wanna take him in the back and tie my hair up–shit, how long is gonna stare at me?’

As each thought drifted by, Chan skillfully sifted through the chaos, honing in on the captivating essence of your unguarded musings. A swell of pride blossomed within him as he recognized that this ability to read minds might not be a curse after all; it was a remarkable gift, one potent enough to give him control over someone as difficult as you

"Leaving so soon, dearest customer?” Chan drawled, leaning against the wall by the exit, his eyes tracking every movement as you gathered your things, your grip tightening around the strap of your backpack.

‘Was he…waiting for me?’

He scoffed, removing his name tag as he did at the end of every shift, a knowing glint in his eyes as he held your gaze, refusing to look away. “You just seem…distant. Thought I’d check in.”

‘He was thinking about me?’ The thought sparked something in you, and you cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure. “Maybe you should focus on yourself for once, and I don’t mean…” Your gaze flickered downward before snapping back up, warmth spreading up your neck.

‘Not that I’d be entirely against it,’ you thought with a quiet chuckle.

With a step forward, his confidence seemed to fill the space between you, his eyes sweeping over you with a boldness that made you catch your breath. He regarded you with a half-lidded gaze, as though he could see through you, a look that sent a prickle of goosebumps over your skin. “Only you would make my concern for you about my genitals,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower. “Think about them often, do you?”

You nearly stumbled, his words unraveling your composure as he turned your teasing back on you with a mastery that left you momentarily speechless. “You…”

“Was I on the money? It’s showing on your face.”

You shook your head lightly, brushing past him without a word, pretending the encounter hadn’t rattled you. But as you moved, he followed, a faint smirk lingering as he kept pace just behind you, relishing in the control he held. Chan tuned into the steady stream of thoughts he could almost feel buzzing around your mind—every second of fluster, every trace of hesitation.

With each step, he could sense your resolve slipping, see the barely concealed tension in your hurried stride as you exited the café, almost like you were running but with no clear destination in mind. And he kept watching, unhurried, savoring every moment as he let his presence linger just enough to keep himself quietly literally in the back of your mind, conflicted with the current predicament.

“Where are you going? You never did answer my question,” he called after you, his tone deceptively casual.

You scoffed, refusing to let your stride falter. “You’re being weird today.”

‘Need to stop myself from jumping him with the way he’s looking at me,’ your thoughts betrayed you, louder than you’d like.

He raised an eyebrow, matching your pace with ease. “Speak for yourself. It’s like you can’t help but avoid me. Almost like you’re hiding something.”

With a quick glance over your shoulder, you forced yourself to meet his eyes, though the effort was as shaky as it was bold. “Wow, nosy much? If I didn’t know better, Chan, I’d think you’re obsessed with me or something.” ‘If that’s the case, God smite me right now.’

“Sounds like you’re projecting.” Chan closed the gap between you, stepping so close only a half-arm’s length separated you. His eyes swept over you, catching the subtle quiver you tried to hide. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think your obsession is the reason you can barely look me in the eyes right now. Or maybe you’re undressing me with them. Is that it?”

‘Please, for Christ’s sake, I am two seconds away from tearing the clothes off your back and making you shut up with my mouth,’ the thought flashed hot and unfiltered, betraying you in every glance.

Chan’s grin widened, reveling in the crackling tension radiating from you. "Careful with where your eyes are going," he murmured, voice low and teasing. “You don’t know what I might have to do about it if you don’t.”

With that, he turned on his heel and strode off, leaving you rooted in place, your final unguarded thoughts echoing in his head as he went back home.

‘Maybe that's all I want to do now.’

In the days leading up to Halloween, you’d been keeping your distance, and Chan’s telepathic abilities showed no signs of fading. Every day, you kept to the same routine—avoiding his gaze, interacting with your shared friends, and hiding those unspeakably dirty thoughts behind a prissy, composed facade. At first, Chan found it amusing, this secret insight into your mind, but as the days wore on, he became more curious, more intrigued. How much of what you showed the world actually aligned with those hidden, guilty desires?

His gaze drifted to the costume hanging in his closet like an eyesore—a dinosaur suit that, though comical, would probably have him sweating profusely all night. Then there was Soonyoung’s “thirst trap” suggestion, an outfit that showed way more skin, something Chan had immediately rejected and returned but still left in the back of his mind. However, an idea began to take shape, a clever compromise that might just keep your attention exactly where he wanted it. For experimental reasons, of course.

You didn’t come into work that day, likely dodging him on purpose, which only left Chan to navigate the usual mundane thoughts of the café’s patrons—mostly comments about costumes or Halloween plans. Without your thoughts slipping into his mind, the day seemed flat, dull even.

“Hey, Chan.” ‘Hello body-ody-ody.’

Chan caught Jeonghan’s stare as he stood there in a rabbit costume, the moment stretching out just a beat too long. Chan’s confidence wavered just a bit, a warm flush creeping up his neck as he glanced down, lightly fiddling with the arms of his dinosaur onesie, which were tied loosely around his waist. He was half-bare beneath the café lights, with only a simple chain dangling around his neck, and suddenly the whole look felt a little bolder than he’d intended.

He let out a nervous chuckle, his voice softening as he managed, “Uh…am I doing too much?” He could feel his cheeks warm as he looked up again, almost as if he expected Jeonghan to burst out laughing any second. But instead, Jeonghan’s expression softened, a crooked smile forming, clearly more amused than anything.

“...Huh? Oh, sorry, I was looking at your body.”

Chan’s cheeks flushed as he instinctively crossed his arms over his chest. “Bro,” he muttered, clearly flustered.

“Chan, you’re fine. It’s Halloween, dressing like a slut is normal in this time of year.” Jeonghan clapped him on the shoulder.

“Jeonghan…”Chan murmured, half-scolding but feeling even more self-conscious under Jeonghan’s praise.

“In fact, I’m happy you’re finally putting yourself out here. I would think the eye candy I hired would sell himself off a little more,” Jeonghan chuckled to himself, thinking, ‘And man, did I nail that hire.’

Chan blinked, stunned. “You’re joking.”

‘I’m not,’ Jeonghan thought proudly, then said aloud, “I’m not.” Jeonghan’s devilish smile widened as he subtly nodded toward the crowd filling the café. Among the usual patrons were a few fresh faces, particularly a growing group of college-aged girls who seemed unable to keep their eyes off Chan.

Chan’s thoughts drifted back to that morning. He’d been in the stockroom, reorganizing supplies while Minghao ran the front, completely unaware of the number of glances that had slipped through the cracked door, trailing over him as he worked. Now, seeing the lingering stares, he realized his costume had sparked more than just Halloween spirit—it had created quite a stir, evening out it’s usually male dominated atmosphere.

Now he was starting to wonder if he’d been filtering out the roaming thoughts a little too well, considering what he’d missed:

‘What is that costume even…? Actually, I don’t even care. He’s so yummy…’

‘I’m literally drooling. Oh my god, he just looked at me—I’m shaking.’

‘Did guys this hot always work here? Guess I’ll have to come by more often now.’

‘I kind of want to get his number…maybe then he’d let me ride his—’

Chan's eyes widened as the wave of unabashed admiration washed over him. He hadn’t expected this much attention, and a shy grin crept onto his face. “I-I get it now. Um… wow.”

He threw a timid glance toward their corner, and the response was immediate: the girls erupted in muffled squeals, giggling and whispering as if sharing secrets too wild to be spoken aloud. Their eyes gleamed with a mix of awe and infatuation, lingering on him even as they leaned into each other, cheeks flushed, exchanging looks that made Chan feel both flattered and exposed.

“See? You’re a staple here, and you’re doing great,” Jeonghan said with a grin. “Rack up those tips, and when you clock out, fill me in on any last-minute details about the party tonight. Just in case I missed anything.”

“Sure, Jeonghan.”

Now that Chan had come to terms with the fact that his costume was effective for a similar demographic, a swell of confidence bubbled within him that you would react the same. All he needed now was a chance to show it off to the right person. But as he glanced around the café, scanning for you amidst the crowd, a tinge of disappointment set in. Despite the lively atmosphere filled with laughter and chatter of the spooky festivities, you were nowhere to be found, and he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that maybe he was the reason.

As the hour drew nearer, Chan felt a growing sense of frustration. Maybe he had been misreading your thoughts all along, or perhaps his powers were glitching today. The very idea of having such abilities was absurd, yet here he was, confused as to why he couldn’t detect your voice. He needed to make sense of it all. How could you swing from hating him one moment to lusting after him the next, only to ghost him entirely? Each possibility twisted in his mind, leaving him feeling more lost than ever. The anticipation that had once excited him now felt heavy with uncertainty, gnawing at his confidence just as he was getting used to it.

Seungcheol’s voice rang out with a mix of authority and enthusiasm, echoing through the bustling café. His energy was infectious, as he gestured animatedly, urging everyone to transition from the work grind to the festive spirit. With his usual flair, he rallied the team, his eyes sparkling with excitement for whatever chaos awaited them upstairs. The air buzzed with anticipation as he clapped his hands together, urging the staff to shake off the day’s fatigue and dive into the night’s festivities.

Meanwhile, Chan busied himself with the final preparations for the party, glancing at the door every few moments, hoping to see you walk through it finally. He didn’t have much of a plan but he had the spirit of one, bouncing off in the corners of his mind like the vibrant colors of the haunted jungle punch sloshing around in his red Solo cup. The punch was fruity and something strong, but it did little to calm his growing anticipation. 

Despite the cheerful atmosphere around him, he fought to maintain a carefree demeanor, all while tuning out the cacophony of voices in his head. Racy thoughts and flirtations from other partygoers echoed through his mind, but none of it held the same thrill as the prospect of hearing your voice. Each thought was a distraction, a reminder of the palpable heat that he felt on his skin when he heard your thoughts for the first time and how it made his heart clench for a reason other than annoyance.

He could almost visualize the energy you brought with you, the way your laughter lit up the room, and how your teasing remarks made his pulse pick up pace. Chan found himself nursing the drink, hoping the sugar and alcohol would somehow bridge the gap between him and you not being here like he hoped you’d be. The raucous fun around him only intensified his longing, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight wouldn’t be complete without you by his side.

‘Oh, fuck.’

It hit him like the chime of a clock striking the hour, electrifying and undeniable. Your voice echoed in his mind, pulling his attention as if drawn by an invisible force. He turned to see you entering through the doors, your presence instantly commanding the room.

Your gaze locked onto his, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze. You were enveloped in a dress of the deepest black, hugging your form from chest to waist before flaring out dramatically and hitting just above your knees. Sheer green tights adorned your legs, glimmering under the soft lights, and a pointed hat crowned your head. You were a vision of the Wicked Witch of the West and Chan could see that never had he thought that vision could be so alluring.

In that moment, everything around him dissolved—the laughter, the music, the chatter of partygoers—as his entire focus narrowed in on you. You were breathtaking, igniting something primal within him that he thought he could shut off. But—

‘I could eat you up, Lee Chan.’

A smile tugged at his lips as he followed after you, sharing the same sentiment as your unspoken hunger. “Took you long enough.”

‘Mmh, so he was waiting for me. Again.’

“Didn’t realize you were waiting for me.” Your chuckle was laced with arrogance. ‘Where the hell is his shirt? And why couldn’t he have given me the pleasure of taking it off?’

“You’ve been avoiding me, which is unusual for you,” Chan remarked sarcastically, watching intently as you poured yourself a drink, bending his arm in a way that not-so-effortlessly flexed his upper arms. “And you didn’t come by the café at all today.” He leaned in slightly, narrowing his gaze. “I thought it might have something to do with me.”

“You?” Your incredulity echoed in your mind. ‘Lee Chan? You were worried about me?’

You stepped closer, invading his space with a confidence that sent a thrill through him. Your gaze traced a deliberate path from his eyes, down the strong line of his jaw, pausing to appreciate the way the light danced across his bare skin. It dipped lower, gliding over the defined contours of his chest, each muscle accentuated by the flickering glow of the party lights. You lingered at his waistband, taking in the way the fabric clung to him seductively.

As your eyes returned to his, there was a spark of mischief in them that didn’t need mind reading to understand, leaving the recipient breathless. The air between you seemed to thrum with unspoken words but clear dialogue, thick with a tension that wrapped around you both. He could feel the heat radiating off your body, drawing him closer to you. The world around you faded into a blur, leaving only the two of you suspended in this charged moment, as if the very atmosphere crackled with anticipation.

“Yeah. Me.” Chan confirmed, his grin widening.

“Well, look who took the time to finally make it.” You both felt a weight on your shoulders as someone drove in between you both, becoming the deli meat in this strange sandwich. 

Soonyoung hugged his cheeks between your faces and grinned, oblivious as always to his surroundings. “Hey, guys.”

‘Good, I stopped the fight before they decked it out in front of everyone.’ 

“Hey, Soonyoung,” you said, wrapping an arm around his waist and forcing a smile. “I see you’re recycling your costume from last year.”

“Uh, it’s not a reuse! This is clearly a brand-new bodysuit, complete with paws!” He lifted his tiger mitts dramatically, waving them in front of your face as if trying to convince you of their novelty. “Very new and totally fierce!”

“Oh, of course, you look good.” You chuckled, genuinely appreciating his energy.

Soonyoung then turned his attention to Chan, eyes wide with excitement. “Whoa, Chan! Look at you, buddy! I told you showing off a little skin would do you good, and wow, look at all this!”

He let out an exaggerated whistle, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Our sexy little dinosaur! You’re making all the other costumes look bad!”

“Okay, okay, thanks, Soon.” Chan let out a hearty laugh, a flush of embarrassment creeping across his cheeks as he playfully patted his friend’s shoulder. He quickly shrugged him off, attempting to create a buffer to ward off Soonyoung’s inevitable groping.

“Oh, so that’s what you’re supposed to be,” You teased, “Couldn’t tell from the lack of clothes.”

Chan snorted, his amusement bubbling to the surface. “I’m clearly showcasing my costume from the waist down—tail included,” he said, gesturing dramatically. “But just remember, even if my costume is down there…” He raised his fingers and motioned to his eyes, an impish glint in his gaze “…my eyes are definitely up here.”

‘What if I want to look at what’s underneath the costume?’

‘What’s going on here...?”

Chan can’t help but grin at the challenge in your eyes while blatantly ignoring the confusion in Soonyoung’s.

“Showing off the merchandise but not letting people browse? You’re not exactly running a lucrative business here, Lee Chan.” 

“Who says I’m running a business?” Chan shot back with a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “I’m simply looking for..exclusive clientele.” His eyes sparkled with mischief, an invitation wrapped in flirtation.

‘I might have to sample a bit of that to see if it’s to my taste, which I’m sure it will be,’ you thought, wishing you could say it out loud. Instead, a soft giggle escaped your lips, though Chan caught the thought loud and clear. A playful grin spread across his face, the corner of his mouth twitching upward as he leaned in just a little closer, seeing the playfulness dance in your eyes.

“You guys are speaking weird,” Soonyoung chimed in, his words slightly slurred as the effects of the alcohol began to show. He swayed a little, a goofy grin plastered across his face.

Chan patted his striped friend on the back with a friendly nudge. “Why don’t you check if Jihoon needs help with the music, buddy? You’d be a real asset.” 

“Oh, I would be so good at that!” Soonyoung declared, practically bouncing on his heels before darting off with uncontainable enthusiasm.

Chan turned back to you, arching an eyebrow with a playful glint in his eye, eager to stretch out the moment. “So, did you bring anything special to offer?”

“Just some wine that Minghao practically wrestled away from me when I walked through the front door,” you replied, rolling your eyes with a feigned exasperation. “Have you sorted out those party games you were so excited about?”

“Should be starting in a couple of minutes,” he assured, his gaze flicking around the party setup, but the warmth of his attention remained fixed on you. “In the meantime, feel free to indulge in the snacks or candy. They’re just as sweet as you.”

‘Oh?’

“How thoughtful of you,” you compliment, pleasantly surprised.

“Forgot to mention the warheads, but still considerably sweet.”

The night unfolded like a game of push and pull, with Chan pulling you in more than he ever had before. The playful tension crackled between you, and he could tell that the idea of playing hard to get was on your mind tonight. Even with all the distractions around you, your thoughts were surprisingly coherent—you wanted Chan, and he knew it. Yet you refused to give him the satisfaction of admitting it. That was when he realized that the party games he had planned would serve as the perfect tool to tilt the odds in his favor.

“Alright, everyone, gather around! On behalf of our activities coordinator, Chan, I’ll be hosting the game he selected for us tonight. Why don’t you tell us what it is, Chan?” Seungcheol announced, his tone playful as he gestured for Chan to take the spotlight.

Chan stepped forward, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he cleared his throat. “Tonight, we’ll be playing manhunt—a twist on hide and seek with major stakes. The last person standing will win a grand prize, and the seeker who finds the most players will earn a reward just as significant. There will be three seekers.” He paused for effect, relishing the eager anticipation in the room. “The rules are simple: (1) no running, (2) you must reveal yourself once your name is called, and (3) most importantly, have fun. The prizes will be unveiled after the game ends.”

Vernon raised his hand eagerly. “Is the prize money?”

“Vernon, what did I just say?” Chan replied, suppressing a grin as he earned a solemn nod in response.

“Is there a time limit?” Mingyu chimed in, curiosity sparkling in his eyes.

“Forty minutes.”

Wonwoo started to raise his hand. “What about—”

“Enough questions!” Seungcheol interrupted, chuckling as he saw the anticipation on everyone’s faces. “Chan, pick your seekers.”

Chan rubbed his hands together, a cocky smile spreading across his face as he surveyed the crowd, already knowing who he wanted. “I choose Joshua, Seokmin, and myself. While Seungcheol counts to twenty, the rest of you will scatter and hide.” His grin widened, mischief dancing in his eyes. “And remember, don’t get caught. Losers will face punishment, too,” he added, eliciting a collective groan from the group.

Seungcheol stood in the middle of the room, gesturing for the helpers to shut off all the lights, leaving the entire floor of the building pitch black and ready for the taking. “Starting now. Twenty… nineteen… eighteen…”

The harmonious sound of footsteps retreated from the room, the darkness perfectly concealing any shadows that might betray anyone’s position. Chan needed no light to do what he had to do but turned on his phone camera the moment the counting ended. He met the eyes of his fellow seekers, barely visible in the glow of their phone lights, anticipation clear on their faces. “We’ll cover our own ground until we run out of places to search, then it’s a free-for-all,” Joshua suggested.

“Got it. I’ll head out first,” Chan insisted, earning a collective nod and finding his own path.

He navigated through the stream of thoughts, weaving between them like a radio dial tuning into a specific frequency, determined to hone a singular voice. 

‘Ugh, why did I have to choose this one to hide in? This is such a bad idea.’

Chan smiled recognizing the familiar pitch, beelining straight for the sound, passing the other voices that may interrupt his route.

In a singular room, his in particular, you were the only one loud enough to break through.

‘Oh, shit, someone’s here. Please go away, please go away.’

No matter how carefully you tried to muffle your presence, it radiated from the closet, an open invitation to Chan’s mind-reading senses. He crept closer, footsteps soft as whispers, his hand hovering over the knob. With a slow, deliberate movement, he eased it open, revealing your figure barely concealed behind the racks of his half-filled closet. Your eyes darted to his, and a quiet “Fuck…” slipped out as he stepped inside, claiming the cramped space beside you.

The closet was shadowed in near-darkness, the room's lights off, but a sliver of moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating through the slits of the closet in faint, wispy beams. As your eyes adjusted, you could just make out the silhouette of Chan, his figure close, a playfully smug smile catching the dim light as he settled in front of you.

‘What is he–’

Chan lifted a finger to his lips, signaling for silence before you could utter a protest. His eyes held yours with an intensity that had your pulse racing, each beat a rapid tattoo under the thin skin of your neck. Footsteps echoed faintly from the hallway outside, the other seekers passing by Chan’s room without a second thought, oblivious to the two of you hidden mere inches apart.

‘He’s so close. He smells so good,’ you thought, the hint of his cologne making your breath hitch. Chan couldn’t help the tiny grin tugging at his lips—props to him for choosing the good cologne today.

‘He’s practically pressed against me. Is this what dying and going to heaven feels like?’

Chan stifled a laugh, stepping even closer, until the heat radiating from his skin was undeniable. In a whisper, he teased, “Try not to get caught.”

“But you—” you started, barely finding your voice to remind him that he was in fact one of the people you’re not supposed to get caught from, only to have it die on your lips as his hand pressed lightly on the wall beside you, leaving little room to breathe, let alone escape.

“Shh,” he murmured, eyes glinting as he held you captive against the panel, a hair’s breadth away. 

“Chan…” you murmured, half-breathless, gazing up at him with a mixture of confusion and exhilaration as the closeness left you dizzy, the space between you charged and impossibly small.

His eyes drifted down, seeing your lips pursed slightly in direction, calling to his attention, begging to be claimed.

‘He’s staring again.’ your thighs clenched against each other, hiding the pool of your heat as you could feel it seep through your panties. ‘He looks at me like this any longer I might just fuck him right here.’

Chan shifted closer, his nose grazing yours, so close he could catch the faint sweetness lingering on your breath. "You have to be quiet…real quiet," he whispered, his voice barely more than a murmur.

“W-why?” you stammered, the question coming out in a whisper as his hands found your hips, drawing you against him with a gentle but possessive pull.

He paused, his eyes flicking between yours, a soft smile teasing at the corner of his lips. “Because,” he breathed, his voice sending a delicious warmth down your spine, before he leaned in, closing the miniscule gap and bridging you together in the sweetest of symphonies.

‘Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god–’

His hand clasped against your cheek, hips digging against yours and pinning you to the wall as his tongue traced in the inside of your mouth, exploring you until he could familiarize himself. He felt bound to you, having taste what’s been distant thought now a full blown movie, a movie that he'd rewatch until the day he dies. 

Your hand caressed the back of his neck, tenderly kneading his skin and pushing yourself closer to his body. The hands that ached to touch him found their peace, gliding on his skin and feeling the outline of his body, through every contour and crevice, so hot it’s sweltering, simply melting underneath him.

‘This is so awesome…don’t ever make this stop…’

He held you by your thigh, brought it to his exposed side, and lifted you from the ground, crushing his weight against you to keep you in place. His eagerness poked against your stomach, taunting you with its size, and parting your mind for thoughts of its sensation plunging inside you, wrecking havoc.

‘Oh god, I’m gonna cum thinking about want I’d do when I fuck him.’

Chan softly chuckled, pulling away and looking at the glisten in your eyes, feeling your skin flushed against him, hearing how your mind screamed for him in ache. “Are you—“

“Yes,” you gingerly nodded, not giving him a second to finish his sentence, “Whatever it is. Yes. Or no. Or whatever.”

‘Good god, get a grip. Desperate much?’

Chan’s hand crept under the fabric of your skirt, sliding down beneath the layer of green pantyhose and underwear, your vicious slickness immediately coating his fingers. “I like you a little desperate,” he confessed in staggered whispers before slotting his lips between yours again. 

Your throbbing cunt thrummed beneath his digits, pulsing around him as he pushed on inside, already coating his knuckles. You seized around him, clenching your stomach, as a clear moan escaped you.

‘What was that?’ Chan sensed Seokmin’s thoughts a mere meters away, franticness in his eyes and the voice of his fellow seeker followed after. “Hello?”

“Hey Seok, Just me!” Chan covered for you, fingers thrusting as they curled up inside you. “I hit my foot on something, so I’m taking a minute breather in my room. No one's here!”

“Mmh, okay, Buddy. Be more careful!”

As soon as the coast was clear, his attention averted back to you. “I said be quiet, didn’t I?”

His hand clamped over your mouth and blocking sounds from leaving as he entered another finger, feeling your muffles hummed satisfyingly against his palm. His smile stretched to the corner of his face. “I told you I’d make you shut up wouldn’t I?”

You rocked into the merciless paces of Chan’s fingers, feeling them massage you in and out, as his palm ground itself against your clit. You head knocked back against the wall behind you, joined by Chan at your hip, letting his fingerss fuck you the way you wish his cock finally would. ‘Oh Lee Chan, Lee Chan, Lee Chan…’

You steadied your arms around his shoulders, eyes fluttering in and out of focus, while your hips snapped back him. It was second nature at this point, responding to him with nothing but open arms.

‘His fingers…my god, his fucking fingers…’

“Faster? Deeper?” Chan offered, sweat dampening tendrils hitting at his eyes. 

You nodded, giving no coherent answer as he took away your ability to breathe. ‘Yes, both, please.’

He’d give it to you, watching as tears swelled up in eyes from ecstasy, ramming his digits until he didn’t care who could hear the delicious squelching, the manhunt game so far back in subconscious, it was practically nonexistent. 

‘Needed him so bad, need him to fuck me so stupid I could feel him in my throat…Lee Chan…’

Even without mind reading, the look in your eyes told him everything. Your gaze was intense, charged with an incredible sense of longing, as if it held secrets that could start wars or shatter worlds. There was something almost dangerous in it, introducing him to a hunger he couldn’t ignore. How had he never noticed this before? It practically screamed at him to cross these invisible lines. And for a heartbeat, the world felt as if it teetered on the edge, making him realize his touch unleashed something neither of you could hold back from.

When you contracted around his fingers, there was no better word than heaven, the thick release in his enveloping grasp, collecting at the cup of his hands.

Chan showed a hint of mercy, letting your feet settle back on the ground. You pried your tired eyes open, letting the faint moonlight help you take in the dreamy sight before you as you slowly recovered from the waves of your climax. Chan, clearly intrigued by the quiet of your mind, ran his tongue along the underside of his palm, jolting you back to life as you watched, breath hitching at the sight.

‘Oh my…’

Chan grinned, his tongue dragging against every curve, every wrinkle, following even the drip running down his forearm, his eyes not breaking a beat from you as he ate your cum off his fingers. He pressed against you, sweaty and flushed, ensuring every bit of you laid flat on his tongue, swallowing every sweet drop of that golden nectar, softly moaning about its flavor. “Better than my favorite candy.”

‘Oh, this man needs to get me pregnant.’

“A couple more to go! Watch out!” Joshua shouted from down the hall.

There was a brief moment of trepidation Chan felt, cursing his friend mentally for getting their tasks done so quickly, stunned that you and him were able to keep hidden for so long. Chan knew he had to make a move, and quickly. 

Shoving up the skirt of your dress, he tore the delicate seams of your green stockings, and a gasp escaped your lips before you had the chance to hush yourself. As soon as you were exposed, Chan sank to his knees, wasting no time. He gripped the ruched hem of your dress, gathering the fabric in his hands in rushed anticipation, pushing aside your panties with his teeth and burying his face inside your warm pussy.

‘This little whore, oh my..’

His tongue pushed flat against you, taking you in at long stripes as his eyes bordered on impatience and deliberate, savoring at how you squirmed against him when his pink muscle curled and licked circles at your entrance. You pushed your weight on him, cried at the thought of him eating you alive when any moment you could get caught.

‘He’s going to kill me, he’s going to kill me. Fuck, those pretty eyes looking back at me. He looks so good eating me out. God, fuck.’

He took your free hand, guiding it to the back of his head, gesturing you to hold on, and like magic, the lower half of his face vanished between your wet folds. 

“Oh gah–” You’re the one to shut yourself off this time with the sharp bite of your lip, focused on the passionate exploration of Chan’s tongue–fucking you with intent, and you fought off the urge to scream. He held you up by your thighs, the darkness in his eyes zoning in on you, drunk in thought of witnessing another orgasm, and amplified your senses with the presence of his fingers. You gripped his hair for dear life–further encouraging him to go deeper–worshiping how the soft strands felt against the pads of your fingers as Chan worshipped every inch inside of you.

“Don’t stop,” you managed to whisper, combing through his hair. “Hmm, that’s so nice…god, you’re so hot eating me out like that…”

Chan was starting to confuse your words for thoughts, or maybe was it your thought for words, whatever it was, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to hear them, your delightful praises directed towards him, or see that beautiful face contort with pleasure.

Your hips began to do that familiar jerk, your pelvis hitting his nose as you sensed something explosive near. Your sounds of ache muffled under your hands, and you twisted your hips, gasp breaking out of you helplessly, and Chan got that familiar fresh flavor of you on his tongue as it dripped out of you. 

He helped himself up to pin you back on the wall, the taste of yourself in his mouth, startling addictive, and you reciprocated, getting everything that he’s worked for.

As he pulled away, staring back at you with an unspoken intensity in his eyes. “Let’s get you going.”

Chan led you out of the closet, cum still dripping down your legs,  joining the rest of the group to announce your victory: a month-long coupon for free snacks at the gaming café. The triumphant smile on your face as you timidly crossed your legs, only hinting at the far more thrilling victory you’d just shared in Chan’s closet.

The other seekers playfully elbowed him, teasing him for being a terrible seeker. "I’m shocked you found anyone with how long you took!" they laughed. But the mischievous glint in his eyes was hidden under a veil of innocuous feigned confusion. “Guess, I really suck at this,” he shrugged, “Glad you guys had fun.”

And everyone did have fun—so much so that nearly the whole crowd insisted on another round. A round that you and Chan would find just as—if not even more—entertaining than the first.

As soon as Chan locked the door for the PC Cafe, he reclaimed your lips, feeling for your heat underneath your dress and its familiar throb. “Finally, some privacy.”

As fellow hiders this round, you slipped away to a more secluded spot, somewhere private enough to pick up right where you’d left off. Here, with no one else to interrupt, the two of you could finally delve into that spark that you both have only begun starting to understand, the excitement between you simmering just beneath the surface, waiting to be explored in the quiet privacy you’d carved out.

‘Lee Chan, the man you are.’

He slipped you out of your dress and let it hit the ground, leading you to behind the counter and pressing you against it. You looped your arms around him, tugging his dinosaur onesie off with your foot and kicking it to the ground along with your dress, caressing his cock protected under a layer of his briefs. “Chan, please I want you.”

‘More than you’d ever know.’

“I know,” He chuckled, tearing off the final obstacle of your underwear. And stuffing it in the abandoned skin of his Halloween costume. “And I’ll show just the kind of treatment you get when you ask nicely.”

He flipped you around, tearing your pantyhose higher on your ass, and bent you over in front of him. He slowly, and deliberately, fished out his cock, letting it slap against the curve of your ass, hearing the pleads inside your head.

‘God, he so knows what he’s doing. What a tease.’

His lips connected to the back of your neck, with a free hand squeezed around the flesh of your breast. “Say it.”

“Chan…” you whined. ‘Don’t make me beg.’

“I want to hear how much you want me inside of you. I need some transparency from you.”

“Of course, I want it, Chan.” You back yourself against him, leading the head of his cock towards your puffy slit. “Please.”

“Use your words, dirty girl,” He harshly whispered, invoking a feeling not only rare but foreign inside of you as you clenched around nothing.

“I-I want you inside me, Chan.”

“Doing what?”

You whined, “Fucking me.” ‘Using me.’

He scoffed, brimming with pride, readjusting your position as he saw fit, and slowly pushed himself inside you. When you adjust to his size, you had only begun to realize the impact it’s have on you, how it’s be hard to forget such a sensation, until he’s dragging his cock in and out of you. You clawed on wooden counter, bracing yourself, and echoing a low, long groan as he covered every inch of him in your slick walls. 

The first thrust was methodical, calculated, determined to show you the whole range of what he’d give you and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t intimidated, but as he found his pace, you began to find your balance. “Oh, fuck…”

You were glued to him, his hips pounding himself against you as his hands collected your breasts in his hands, lips kissing up your neck and behind your ear. “Gonna make you fucking wish your only regret was not fucking me sooner.”

How he easily found your spot was mystery – one that you didn’t think too long and hard on – until he just kept doing it, pulling you back against him as he released his inhibitions. Your sweat pilled against each other, unsure where yours started and where his ends, your bodies intertwined into one sickening display of what almost a year of unspoken lust looked like.

‘Oh, I could get used to this. If he fucked me like this everyday, I wouldn’t complain for a single second.’

And Chan was almost counting on that.

He turned you around again, missing your face and admiring how your disheveled hair only framed its intoxicating aura as he lifted you against the counter and pushed his cock inside you as he towered over you.

The single chain around his neck brushed against your face repeatedly, and calling to your attention loud enough for only Chan to hear.

‘Omg his chain…this is like one of those Twitter memes where fanatics dream of their faves’ chain hanging above their face during sex…and it’s actually happening to me with Chan.’

Suddenly, he had an idea. “Bite on it.”

You blinked at him, registering his words as he suddenly stopped his thrusts. “…What?”

“Bite on my chain while I fuck the living shit out of you.” 

You took your time processing the thought, before slowly leaning in, the chain barely meeting your lips before you took it between your teeth and pulled him down with you.

Chan’s once kind smile warped into something more sinister, more primal, and he granted you what he had promised.

His cock slammed against you, reverberating your walls, and you clung on the counter under you, while your vision flickered to the back of your skull. Gritting against the chain on your enamel, your head could not form words clear in any sense, just the echo of yours skin clashing and Chan reveled in that. “Good fucking girl.”

He hand struck your side, squishing you against the counter, feeding you his raw power course through you until he’s fill you up, over and over again. You feed his ego in a way he never expected from someone and wasn’t sure he’d be willing to let it go with whatever happened next, so he was gonna savor the moment he had.

As his arousal coursed through him, squeezed every ounce of energy out of you, ensuring he’d hear his name on your brain and out your lips. He held your tired body, stroking your sides, panting against your skin, and felt the final release ebb out of him like a stream, coating you in perfect white before settling down a stool nearby, sitting you on his lap as you rested against the security of his strong, broad frame.

Wherever this left the two of you, Chan just knew he needed to have you. And considering the emptiness in his head, he needed you for more than he realized.

[milkteabinniechan]

♡Fire and Ice Pt. One - Chan

(this is a membership exclusive + a preview👀 you can read the whole angsty story here)

pairing: enemy! Chan x fem! reader

summary: You don't like him. He hates you. But after one too many drinks, you need a ride home and Chan is only one picking up his phone...

warnings: angst, enemies to lovers, mentions of al*cohol, suspense, implied groping, chasing, (almost) assa//ult but Chan rescues you, physical fight, mentions of bl//ood/bruising.

The rain streaks across the car window like bolts of lightning, splitting off into different directions. Your eyesight follows one strand all the way across the window. “Thanks for answering your phone.”

Chan huffs loudly, his strong hands gripping the steering wheel. You were dating his roommate and had been for a few months now. You had had a few too many drinks at a party and needed a ride home. Usually your boyfriend would be your knight in shining armor sweeping you off your feet tonight, but he was out of town. Thankfully Chan had, reluctantly, answered your call.

“It's a good thing I came to get you, you're fucking hammered.” He scoffed.

You scrunch your nose at him and stuck out your tongue as you were one to do when he teased you. But Chan’s teasing was never playful or flirtatious. You had a strong feeling he genuinely hated you. When you would come over to see your boyfriend, Chan would immediately leave the room. He would groan loudly whenever you spoke. He rolled his eyes and tensed his shoulders when you would laugh. He really couldn't stand you. And you felt the exact same way about him.

“It's a good thing you were home doing nothing as usual. Pretty active social life, huh?” You spat back.

Chan's jaw clenched tightly, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel even harder. He takes a sharp breath through his nose before responding, voice low and menacing. “Watch your damn mouth before I decide to leave you on the side of the road.”

You snorted through your nose, crossing your arms over your chest. Chan had made threats like that before but they were usually empty. “Ya know, you'll have to see me a lot more if he asks me to marry him.” Your voice quickly matching Chan’s threatening tone. He scoffs and shakes his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. “Of course he won't marry you. Who would want to be trapped with a cold-hearted shrew like yourself?” His voice drips with sarcasm as he glances over to you briefly, his eyes flashing with barely contained anger and disgust.

Your eyes shoot wide open and you snap towards him with fire on your tongue. “What the hell is your fucking problem with me? Do you hate me that much? Or maybe you don't hate me at all. Is that it, Channie?” you lean in towards his ear, the fire on your tongue sweeping across his ear. “Do you imagine fucking me? Lifting up this dress and bending me ov-”

His face darkens with anger, and for a moment, he seems to struggle to maintain control of the car. He pulls over onto the shoulder, the car jerking to a halt. He turns to face me, eyes ablaze with fury. “Get out.” He growls.

[bang-chan-my-man]

Stray Kids ‘Hop’ Concept Photos

[thepoopdokyeomtouched]

Tomorrow there's going to be seventeen performing in MAMA and the awards will be distributed by live voting

So please vote for woozi to gift him daesang

Im manifesting so hard rn

[babybearcubbs]

NAAAAAAAAH THE SEUNGMIN ONE IS INSANE I'M FUCKING DEAD OMG😭😭😭 I fucking FELT that omg but honestly love that so much

📱"Would you date other people if I wasn't born?" w/ BF!SKZ📱

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

genre: some crack, some fluff

pov: 1st or 2nd Person (depending on how you view it)

description: asking boyfriend the very serious question of if they would date someone if you weren't born

pairing: bf!skz x gn!reader (individual)

warnings: swearing

screenshot count: 8

©feelbokkie (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

방찬 (Bang Chan)

이민호 (Lee Know)

서창빈 (Changbin)

황현진 (Hyunjin)

한지성 (Han)

이용복 (Felix)

김승민 (Seungmin)

양정인 (I.N)

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

Permanent Taglist (closed)

Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you (either at all or properly)

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[gnabhyunlix]

Walkin On Water 👔

[feelbokkie]

L♡VE IN F♡CUS | Chapter 15

PAIRING: idol!Changbin x fem reader

WARNINGS:

GENRE: smau, crack, angst, fluff

P♡V: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

SUMMARY: Amateur concert photographer Y/n has recently been promoted to junior music journalist. Her first assignment? An exposé on the popular Kpop boy group, Stray Kids. Spending an entire tour doing in depth interviews with eight men seems simple enough, but one member isn't exactly open to the idea. Will Y/n be able to break down the walls around his heart, or will her big break turn into a big disaster?

TAGLIST: closed

W♡RD C♡UNT: 2,132

SCREENSH♡T C♡UNT: 17

A/N: we're officially at the halfway mark of the series

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

©feelbokkie (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

“Okay, one more time for your Instagram. Ready? 1…2…3!”

Click

You pull the camera away from your face and immediately check the image as best you can on the tiny screen. Not long after, you’re surrounded by 10 men, crowding around you, slightly pushing each other so they can see the picture, too. One by one, each of them gives off some sort of hum of approval before breaking away from the group.

“Here, let me just…” You go through the settings in your camera and send the picture via Bluetooth to Minjae’s phone. You also make sure to send a copy to their manager.

You power down your camera before digging your phone out of your pocket. You open up a new contact and hand your phone to their manager. “Can I have your phone number and email? I’ll finish the article in a few hours and email it for approval. Once everything is set, we’ll post the article online.”

The manager nods his head as he takes your phone. You watch the group fondly from the corner of your eye as they dance and cheer excitedly by the infamous Music Bank stairs. You take mental notes of each of their reactions, storing them in a safe place for when you write the article.

“Here you go.” Your eyes snap back to the man in front of you as you take your phone back, double-checking that everything was put in correctly. Satisfied, you save everything and put your phone back into your pocket.

“Perfect,” You say cheerfully. You turn back to the group, some of which are trying to take pictures behind the handrail of the stairs. Minjae quietly gets their attention as he notices you staring. “Congratulations again on your first win! I can’t wait to see more of your achievements in the future. Xikers, fighting!”

A small wave of ‘thank yous’ are hurled your way and you can’t hide the smile that appears on your face. You wave goodbye before turning back to the small table near the green room where you left your coffee. Surprisingly, it’s still there along with other abandoned drinks. You take a moment to set your bag on the table and carefully disassemble your camera, making sure to properly close the caps to avoid anything from happening. You wedge your camera safely next to your laptop.

You close up your bag and finally pick up your coffee before taking a long-awaited sip. It’s watered down now—that much you expected after letting it sit for nearly two hours.

Your eyes scan the room as you sip. You've been backstage since the show wrapped earlier and have yet to catch a glimpse of Changbin. It doesn't help that pretty much every idol that attended the show is still backstage, either filming content with their group members or other idols. You're not even sure you're supposed to still be backstage. Surely, you look suspicious standing off on a corner all by yourself with a "press" badge hanging off your neck. You can't simply say that you're waiting for Changbin. Everyone knows that Stray Kids didn't appear on the show so why would any one of them be there?

"You're not allowed to be here, miss." A high-pitched voice breaks your concentration.

"Oh sorry, I was waiting for someone but...ah," You turn to apologize to whoever is talking to you. You pause mid-sentence when you lock eyes with Changbin. The mischievous smirk you've grown accustomed to twitches on his face as he tries, and fails, to hide it.

"Really, noona? You fell for that?" He lets out a laugh that almost sounds like a cackle, scrunching his nose in the process.

His hair is back to black but wavy again. His skin-tight black shirt is tucked into slightly baggy blue jeans with large pockets that resemble cargo pants. A large winter coat hangs from his left hand, just barely scratching the floor.

"Haha, very funny." You roll your eyes. You suck in the pout threatening to appear on your face and shift your weight onto a different foot. You're also acutely aware that other people in the room can misunderstand what's going on. "What did you want to give me, Changbin-ssi? A hard time?"

Changbin's expression drops, his mouth slightly agape as his eyes dart back and forth, searching your face. "Wait, are you mad? Really?"

"Why? Because I'm talking to you formally? I'm not, I'm just addressing you how I should." You quietly take another sip from your drink, suddenly feeling awkward.

"Well, I don't like it," His bottom lip sticks out so quickly, you're almost certain it's an involuntary movement. Still, it looks like someone kicked a puppy.

"We're in public and someone will misunderstand." You whisper. Still, you stay where you're standing, doing nothing to close the gap between the two of you.

"So? Let people think what they want to think. I'm talking to my friend,"

"You and I know both know very well that's a dangerous thing to do in your line of work." You mutter under your breath, getting tired of the tiny argument. "Anyway, what did you have for me?"

"Oh right," He pats around the pockets of his pants until he finds something small in his back right pocket. "Here, this is very important. You need to guard it with your life."

Changbin grabs your wrist, something you're hoping nobody saw, and pulls your hand closer to him. He turns your hand around, making your palm face up. He carefully places something in your hand and closes your fingers around it before you can even get a chance to see what it is. After he lets go of you, you pull your hand back, eying him cautiously, and slowly open your hand to see what he gave you.

In the center of your hand lays a black thumb drive with what appears to be a white star crudely drawn on it. You tilt your head back up, your eyes continuously glance between Changbin and the thumb drive. "What's this?"

"Our next mini album. I don't know how much is in there so I don't know what I'm allowed to tell you."

You close your fingers around the thumb drive, keeping your grip tight now that you know what's in your hands. "Already? Hop is barely a month old. And you're about to go on tour again."

"It's...it's not coming out until late February, early March. We'll have time to do promotions and then rest before we do the rest of the tour. Chan hyung wanted you to have it now so you could have time to write the review and not stress."

"He could have just emailed it to me. No need to send you to hunt me down."

"He tried. Technology is fickle and he's an old man."

"I'm older than him,"

"Really?" You can't tell by the way Changbin is tilting his head to the side if he's teasing you or being serious.

You shake your head, ignoring him, as you carefully put the thumb drive in your back. You can't help but let out a deep sigh. "Jeez, and you call me a workaholic,"

"What was that, noona?" Changbin leans in a bit to hear you better.

Too close.

You stumble slightly as you back up. You brace yourself to hit the wall behind you only to be stopped suddenly, by a firm grip on your wrist.

"Careful, noona," Changbin warns. His eyes focus on you while yours shift around behind him. Your eyes settle on a group of four trying to work on a dance challenge near the stairs.

"Thank you," You mumble as you shake your wrist out of his.

You know that another reporter is walking around somewhere. There has to be, there's no way you're the only one. And if you are, you know that there are staff members who'll gossip with whomever they can at any given moment. The last thing you want is for Changbin to falsely end up on dispatch.

"So," Changbin clears his throat. "were you planning on eating something or were you going to run on coffee beans all day?"

You tilt your head slightly to the side in confusion until Changbin gestures to your now empty coffee cup. "Oh, I--"

Buzz, buzz

You press your lips together and shoot Changbin an apologetic look as you answer your phone without looking at the caller ID. "Hello?"

"Hey, I'm here. They won't let me park in the parking lot but I'm near a loading zone. Are you almost done?"

"Wonnie?" The voice throws you off for a moment. You're not sure who you expected but it wasn't exactly him.

"Yeah? Are you okay? I said I was going to pick you up, remember? If you're done come out. Frankie is insufferable when she's hangry." He says a bit louder.

"Yeah, okay, I'll be out in a moment." You hang up the call and focus your attention back to Changbin who now sports a slight scowl on his face. "Sorry, I already have lunch plans. And then I need to get home and finish this Xikers piece."

"You need to take breaks, noona. Album reviews, award show wins, tour-centered projects? You don't have to be on the go all of the time." His expression softens, a slight twinkle shines in his eye.

"I don't do award show wins. I just begged my boss to let me cover this event because I've been following Xikers since before their debut and I wanted to be the one to cover their first Music Bank win. And I'm not the only one who needs to slow down. This is the 3rd album you've guys done and it hasn't even been six months yet."

You can see Changbin biting his inner cheek, stopping himself from saying something. He nods slowly, almost in agreement. "I didn't intend to argue with you, noona. I'm sorry. I get having the drive to work but I have seven brothers who'll keep me and check and keep an eye out for me if I'm about to crash. Who do you have?"

You can't stop the scoff that escapes your throat fast enough as you cross your arms. You dig your nails into your arms to keep yourself calm. It's bad enough that a quarter of the music industry is in the same room you are, if you get a bad reputation as a reporter, you're done for.

As much as what he said rubs you the wrong way, you force a smile. You know he means well, your relationship has gotten significantly better since the two of you made amends months ago. And as much as you may dislike it, Changbin is a much more straightforward person than he comes off as in videos. He's always willing to deal out the hard truths first and then try to soften the blow after. At the end of the day, you know he means well.

"I'm fine, Changbin, really. If you compare the two, my job is a lot more relaxed than yours."

"Comparison is the thief of joy," He says seriously.

"What are you? A fortune cookie?" You can't help but laugh. A large smile appears on Changbin's face making the crinkles in the corner of his eyes appear. Somehow, his expression reminds you of something.

You dig around for something in your bag before your fingers graze a small envelope holding the two Pokémon cards you got from Wonseok and Wonjae during Christmas. You pull out the envelope and give it a once over before holding it out to Changbin. "Here, I was supposed to give you this back in Hong Kong but things were hectic. See? I'm giving you a gift so you know I'm not mad."

Changbin takes the envelope from you and opens it immediately. His face lights up as he pulls out the cards, and yet, no words come out. This is probably the quietest you've ever seen him.

"They're your favorite right?" You close your bag once more and readjust it on your shoulder.

"Yeah but how did you...?" His voice trails off as he looks at both cards.

"That's what happens when you're good at your job." You tease, winking at him. You check your phone one more time as a text comes in from Wonseok telling you to hurry up. "You don't have to worry about me overworking, Changbin. You should not worry about me being late for this lunch date. I'll see you during the comeback, maybe. If not, I'll see you in Chile."

"...Yeah, bye noona," Changbin whispers more to himself than to you. You nod quietly and make your way to the exit before you get another call from Wonseok.

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

TAG LIST (closed)

Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you (either at all or properly)

@amyyscorner @puppysmileseungmin @lixie-phoria @yongbbokkie @spearb-99 

@weird-bookworm @stayconnecteed @brain-empty-only-draken @hanniemylovelyquokka @sunshinessky 

@marked-unknown @lanatheawesome @theblindhag @skz-f0rlif3 @f9clementine 

@kalopsian-thoughts @ismelllikechlorine247 @hyunjineret @kangaracharacha @slut4colinbridgerton 

@reverse-soe @cupidsmoons @jungwonderz @szkstay @tenmii 

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@beccaskz @starlostastronaut @itsseohannbin @kayleefriedchicken @anushasstuff

@jutdwae-archives @dazzlingjade @itzella @divineinsanity @skzjen

[random-incorrect-things]

Chan, after being awake for 72 hours: When you've wimbled all your wombles, and you've jingled all your jongles, listen to the flimble flomble of my fûckíng tâñgęrïńě...

[cheoliehansoliereblogs]

😭 someone get me a chan rn or i'm gonna cry 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

cherrytober ❤️🍒: day 13 - lee chan

chan + carrying the heavy bags after grocery shopping;

"it's okay, i got this", chan says when you try to reach for a few bags.

his arms are swamped, it's so clear that there's way more bags than he can actually carry - even the cashier gives you a look.

"baby, come on", you chuckle. "let me get a few."

chan is already walking in front of you, pretending he didn't hear you (and that his wrists aren't screaming at him).

it's no use, though. chan reaches your car with you, placing the bags on the trunk and sitting so prettily as your passenger prince (he'll give you that, at least). his smooth demeanor is enough to make you drive all relaxed towards your place, making plans for the night - a homemade dinner, some wine, and a movie sounds really good, doesn't it?

when it's time to take the bags again, you try to be as quick as possible, but it's not like chan didn't see that coming. he pushes you out of the way with his hips, laughing to himself as he once again grabs all the bags.

"you're gonna hurt yourself, they look heavy!"

"i hit the gym every day for a reason", he shrugs.

and, of course, he hits the gym because his job demands him to have a healthy body and condition, but chan also likes to do it because of you. to look good for you, to protect you, to help you out whenever you need it...

because you already love him more than enough, cook for him, let him sleep on your bed, take care of him - so, really, what are just some grocery bags then?

when you two reach your apartment and chan put the bags on your counter (a small sigh leaving his lips, though he won't ever admit it), he's surprised to feel you pecking his cheek.

"thank you, boyfie", you grin at him.

and that? that's why lee chan does everything he does for you.

[straykidzmemories]

[written-in-flowers]

Lovesick: Chan x Male!Reader Pt. 6

Pairing: Bang Chan x Male!Reader | Side pairings: Minho x Chan, Minho x Male!Reader (unrequited)

Word Count: 5k

Genre: Horror, Angst, Smut | AU: Yandere!au, Videogame!AU, Highschool!AU

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Summary: After being sucked into the dating simulator "Lovesick", Park YN has to defeat five rivals to reach his goal. However, he soon learns his rivals aren't the only thing he must contend with for Chan's love.

Tags: Graphic depictions of violence, Main Character Death, dark fic, dead dove: do not eat, yandere behaviors, yandere!reader, stalking, murder/violence, blood and violence, toxic relationships, mentions of murder, unrequited love, mentions of domestic violence, school massacre/genocide, implied teacher/student relationship, homophobic parents, mentions of bullying/trauma, obsession, possessiveness, manipulation, high school setting, anal sex, anal fingering, edging, eventual smut, pool sex, locker room sex, blowjobs, choking.

A/N: PLEASE READ TAGS BEFORE READING! I'm not responsible for any feelings you end up having because you ignored this warning and the ones above.

Seo Changbin: Monday < | > Seo Changbin: Wednesday

****

Seo Changbin: Tuesday

Despite the agreement you signed, word about Sohee and her string of teenage lovers spread throughout the school. A majority of them remained quiet about their experiences, feeling confused and upset by the entire thing. Other boys, like Felix, boasted about their encounters. You did not particularly care to hear them. Your main concern was Changbin, and what his family had done about the situation. 

“They’re suing the school for hiring a predator,” one of the boys said as Chan passed out potential flyers during an early club meeting. “They said they can’t believe the principal knowingly hired a person with a spotty record.”

“Do you blame them? If my child was abused by a teacher, I’d sue them too.”

You lifted your head up from the flier in front of you. “They’re not taking him out of school?” you asked incredulously. 

“No,” they said, a bit unnerved by your tone, “Why would they? He didn’t do anything wrong; she did.”

“He’s too important to the school for him to leave,” said another member. “He's our star athlete.”

“His parents already paid his tuition,” a girl with golden earrings said. “They won't get a refund if they withdraw him so late in the semester.”

“But…Isn't he ashamed?” 

“Why should he be? She abused him,” she replied a bit curtly. “What happened to him isn't his fault.” 

You felt their stares turn somewhat sour, and you shrunk back. “I didn't mean it that way. I meant that people will start spreading rumors about him and not be as understanding as us. I thought he'd want to start somewhere fresh.”

Which is what was supposed to happen. Why did that not happen? Changbin’s elimination required his secret, which would bring him shame and make him withdraw. Why had that not worked? You knew why. It came to you immediately. Minho. Your fingers curled inwards to your palms, digging into the cuff of your sleeve. This is his way of getting back at you. A pang of anger needed to be restrained in front of everyone, but it festered inside.

“I think it's disgusting,” said Chan, examining one of the possible flier choices. “She is a pedophile. She should be in jail, not another high school. It's the school and parents not wanting it to be big news. They care more about their reputations than the students’ safety.” You heard the spite in his voice, “Two students went missing and it was barely investigated. It's shameful.”

“Yeah,” you added. “You’d think a school that boasts about being safe would, you know, be safe.” 

“It’s not like he didn’t want it though,” one boy smirked. “Wish she’d come after me, eh, right YN-ssi?” he nudged you, and you coughed awkwardly. 

“They might have wanted it at the time, but I’m sure they regret it now and it’ll scar them one way or another,” you replied. “Unless you’re Felix, since it hasn’t bothered him at all.” 

Chan snorted, “Nothing phases Felix, to be honest. In his head, he bagged a hot older woman, not that he’d been preyed upon by her. Felix doesn’t make romantic attachments as easily as Changbin, so it wouldn’t hurt him like that.” He picked up another flier, considered it, and said, “I just feel sorry for Changbin. He was crying when I saw him come out of the coach's office. I’m glad they fired her.” 

Sohee’s continued employment was no concern for you. Your failure was. You stewed in your disappointment during the rest of the meeting. Even after following all the steps, you failed. You'd gotten hold of the secret, gone to the counselor, and gotten rid of Sohee. Changbin, with his good boy reputation, was supposed to feel so ashamed he left school. That is what Minho told you. You shouldn't have listened to him, but you'd trusted him back then. The sinking feeling of losing Chan suddenly came over you while they talked about baked goods and flowers. Yes, you had three more days before the Friday deadline, but you’d lost a whole day. Any plan you hatched needed to be quick. 

Chan believed hosting a garden party at the beginning of spring term might promote the club. They’d sell baked goods from a member’s family’s infamous bakery chain, showcase their nicest plants, and offer pamphlets on proper nature care. By the end, everyone decided to put it into motion. Meanwhile, you focused on your next move. It’d have to be something inconspicuous; not death since too many deaths might result in further investigations. You had no idea. Your mind appeared to be blanking. Minho mentioned there being loads of ways to take out opponents, but usually involved murder. You couldn't trust anything he told you now.

You walked out of the school garden with Chan when someone blocked your path. 

“Hey, YN-hyung! Hey, Chan-hyung!” Seungmin beamed at the pair, holding his usual notepad and looking at them hopefully. “How’re you guys doing?”

“We’re doing well, Seung-” Chan began to say, but Seungmin cut across him. 

“-That’s great, anyways, YN-hyung,” he addressed you directly, “I hear from several reliable sources that you’re the one who exposed Mrs. Yoon for the pervert she is. I’m writing a column in the school paper about it all, and was hoping you’d like to comment on the situation.”

“Seungmin, what can you possibly add in your paper that people don’t already know?” you asked with amusement, glancing at Chan who shared the feeling. The pair of them began walking with Seungmin in their path, the journalist walking backwards. 

“Rumors are not facts, Hyung,” he said pointedly, “And I only write the straight facts.”

“That’s debatable,” Chan noted. 

“So, what are your thoughts on Mrs. Yoon escaping a jail sentence?” he asked, putting his pen to the notepad, “Bewildered? Outraged? Disgusted? The people are dying to know. You outed her to get her put behind bars, and that did not happen. You gotta be peeved about it.”

“No comment, Seungmin.”

“Come on,” he groaned, “Give me something. Anything. Changbin won’t talk to me-”

“-Oh my god, Seungmin, you asked him?” Chan asked in disbelief. “What is wrong with you?”

“It’s always good to hear the full account from the victim-”

Ugh, people saw him as a ‘victim’. This will only endear people to him more, and make it harder to get rid of him. The thought of him having another dirty secret came to you, but that sounded unlikely.  

“What I’m giving is ‘no comment’,” you finally told Seungmin. “Thanks.”

You and Chan managed to pass him, ignoring his stammered pleas. What are the odds Changbin has another secret? From what you understood, every student only had one and you’d exposed Changbin’s. You needed something else. Right now, everyone pitied Changbin. Perhaps tarnishing that reputation might give the right results? 

“He’s something else, isn’t he?” Chan commented with a scoff. “Always looking for a story. Changbin is going through enough as it is. Having someone like Seungmin poking around must be making him feel worse.” 

And Chan pitied him. This sympathy will bring them closer together, you could tell. 

“I try not to give him any attention,” you said. “Otherwise, I might end up being talked about next.” 

“Nobody should. Seungmin is nosey and messy. He loves causing drama between students and making up fake theories to spread around. Can you believe he once said a girl was selling photos of herself online and she had to withdraw due to the the embarrassment and bullying? It was so wrong of him.”

Hm, at least he despised Seungmin, which would help down the road. “He’s just bored with his own life, so he does stuff like that.” 

“You have no idea,” he rolled his eyes. “Want to grab breakfast with me? You have to try the breakfast sandwiches. They’re to die for.”

“Sure,” you smiled brightly. You had been standing in line for food when he got a message. 

‘Hey, where are you? I haven’t seen you since yesterday. I miss you.’

Minho. Your blood simmered reading his name alone. He was the last person you wished to speak to right then. There'd be an actual murder if you did.

You noted that Chan ordered himself a bacon and egg sandwich with extra hot sauce on it, alongside some chips and an iced americano. You ordered the same thing, though you would have rather shared a plate with Chan. You wanted Chan’s sandwich just to drag your lips across the bitemarks and taste the same flavors Chan tasted. Having only a piece of him would comfort you. Everything about him did that. You admired his beauty in the morning sunshine. The sun caught in his dark curls, and made him glow like an angel. 

‘Hey, answer me. I want to see you. I saw your elimination plan didn’t work. Let’s talk about it.’ 

You ignored the message again, and bit into your sandwich. 

“Minho?” Chan guessed when the phone buzzed a third time. You noticed him glare at the phone, but quickly covered it up by eating. 

“Yeah,” you sighed defeatedly. “He and I…Well, things got awkward and I’m not sure if I want to see him right now.”

“What happened?” he asked, sipping from his coffee. 

“He…” you struggled to say the words, “He told me he had feelings for me and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Do you like him back?” 

“I don’t think so. He’s been super helpful to me since I’ve been here, but nothing romantic has happened between us.” You would never tell Chan about the kiss. You preferred not to think about it either. “I don’t want to hurt his feelings, but…”

“You also don’t want him thinking you feel the same?” 

“Yeah.”

“Dump him.”

You looked up from your food to see it happening again. Flickers and shimmers went across Chan’s face in blue and white, and you swore you saw a black void between them. It was almost like someone slicing a hole to peek from inside Chan’s body. It sent shivers up your spine and made you twist your neck. You worried it might swallow him up completely. 

“Chan-hyung?” 

“Du-um-m-p hi-i-mmm,” Chan said, his head twitching as the glitching continued, “Dummmp hi-i-m-mm-mm ughhhh.”

He froze entirely. It was as if a player pressed pause in the middle of a cutscene dialogue. You looked around the area in case anyone noticed, but the world went on around them. Eventually, the glitching stopped. You kept looking to see if someone else saw, but Chan might as well not be there. You wanted to help him, but didn’t know how. When you reached forward, wanting to feel the disintegrating pixels, they stung your fingertips. White hot and crackling, it might have been pure fire. Chan went still for a few seconds, then smiled broadly at you. 

“How’s the sandwich? My eggs could be a little more runny, but it does the job.” 

You were speechless. The last time Chan glitched, it’d lasted mere seconds. This one lasted longer. This could be leading to a larger problem. 

“YN-ssi,” Chan smiled, a bit confused by your silence, “Earth to YN…Hello? Are you with me?”

“Um, uh, yeah, yeah,” you nodded, giving a nervous laugh. “The sandwich is great.” 

“You okay?” He asked with a small smile. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” you assured him. A thought came to you again, “I was just thinking about Minho.”

Chan’s smile disappeared. “Oh…Yeah, well, you would since he’s your boyfriend.” This distaste was obvious, and struck you as odd. 

“He’s not,” you said. “He likes me, but I don’t feel the same.”

Another blue flicker went through him, and you stopped the conversation. You’d been about to bring up going to class together when a disturbance went through the crowd. 

Turning your heads to the center of the canteen area, you saw Felix and Hyunjin at each other’s throats. The tension between them went across the area to the other students, who stood staring as the boys provoked one another. The boys shouted insults, pushing and shoving before hell broke loose. Felix swung his fist straight into Hyunjin’s face. The tall boy held his jaw for a second, groaning in pain before retaliating with his own fist. The fight happened so suddenly. You looked on as they grappled at each other, punching and grunting to try loosening the other’s grip.

“Aw, fucking hell,” Chan sighed irritably. “I’ll be back.”

“Wait, Chan-”

Chan ignored you as he pushed through the gathering spectators and into the fray. Grabbing the back of Felix’s blazer, he pulled him off the boy with ease, while another student took Hyunjin away. Felix, red-faced and bleeding, shouted more curses and insults over Chan’s shoulder but did not struggle against him. Hyunjin retorted with his own remarks.

“You and your dad are fucking finished, Lee! Finished, you hear me?!”

You watched Chan and Felix disappear into a nearby bathroom, and you couldn’t help following them. You slowly walked into the small hallway leading inside, pressing yourself to the inner wall while listening for their voices.

“What the hell’s the matter with you?” Chan asked, appalled. “Starting a fight with Hwang Hyunjin in the middle of the canteen with everyone watching? What’re you thinking?”

“Hyunjin’s a fucking cunt,” Felix remarked. The sound of a trash bin being knocked down echoed in the small room. “He’s been pushing in on my contraband territory. What am I supposed to do, hyung? Let him?”

“Yes,” Chan said, “Yeah, let him. Who the hell cares if someone else is selling stuff on school grounds? You could do with some healthy competition.”

“The only healthy competition is no competition, Chan.” You heard him growl angrily, “Then he started talking about my dad, and nobody talks about my dad!”

“What was he saying?” Chan asked.

“He said my dad’s nothing but a cunt in a suit, and that he was going down.”

“Ugh, this is all so childish. Felix, your father is one of the richest men in town. He’s got a whole army of thugs who will do whatever he says; he has his hands in every important pocket around. I doubt someone like Hyunjin’s dad could even make a dent in his business.” You heard him move closer, “And you starting fights with him will only stir things up more. Whatever crap is going on between your families should stay outside of school. You can’t risk getting expelled because you decided to be a dick and start a freaking gang war.”

“But Hyung-”

“-You know just as well as I do that if you get suspended or expelled from here, your dad will tear you a new one. I remember what he told my dad: he pulled a lot of strings and called in a lot of favors to get you in here. Don’t ruin your dad’s efforts by letting him down.”

Felix fell silent, his anger coming to a simmer. “You’re right,” he finally said. “You’re always right. It is stupid.” You heard them hug, patting each other’s backs, “What would I do without you steering my head the right way?”

“Get arrested,” Chan said, humorously at the end of the word.

They laughed together, and your jealousy burned. You watched the two boys walk down towards the school canteen area again. Their conversation would normally upset you, but not right now.

The blue static did. It had come out of nowhere. Its sudden appearance and then disappearance concerned you. If you had the control room, you could fix the system bugs. The idea the game might completely crash came to you. You looked up at the sky, expecting to see it across the fluffy clouds and bright sunlight, but it didn’t happen. Nothing changed. Could your failed elimination be another result of the glitch? A bug in the system where the elimination goes as planned but still fails? 

Not having to worry about Felix until next week, you put your efforts into Changbin instead. Watching him from the shadows of the courtyard, you noticed a change in him. The light he once carried appeared dull; he did not meet anyone’s eyes and stayed quiet in the group. It appeared his friends did not want to brooch the subject. Nobody did. While people whispered behind their hands and gave concerned looks, nobody walked up and comforted him. Good. The less people talk to him, the easier it’ll be to eliminate him. But how? The thought frustrated you.

Expulsion? You could buy contraband items and put them in his bag the rest of the week. 

Bullying? Ruin his reputation so much that he leaves school on his own. 

Setting him on fire in an accident? A bomb? A trap? A car accident? Something. Anything.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and curiosity got the better of you. 

“Just kill him. Where’s the fun in the game if you’re not killing people?”

You ignored Minho’s message again. To be honest, you didn’t know if you could handle a second murder. Jisung’s happened in a fit of rage and frustration. You hadn’t intended on it. You recalled the burning hatred that had flowed within you, tensing your muscles and creating a headache. While it’d felt exhilarating at the time, you didn’t know if you wanted to go through that again. At least, not so brutally. 

“Hey YN-hyung!” Jeongin appeared in front of you with another food tray. This time he’d made hotteok. The round, sweet pancakes sat lined up on the tray; you could smell the cinnamon and sugar inside them. “Want a little sweet treat before class? They’re fresh! It’s not good to-”

“-Start the day on an empty stomach,” you finished irritably. Why did he have to come now? To give more cryptic messages? “No thanks, Jeongin-ssi. I’m not hungry.”

Jeongin stared over you, thin eyes crinkled in his forced smile, then said, “What’s the matter? You seem down.”

“It’s nothing.” 

He stepped closer. “Have you been to our library, hyung?”

“Not really.”

“You should,” he said. “It’s a quiet study place, and not a lot of people go in there. They have a lot of informative and educational books there.”

“Like a lot of libraries…”

“Well, I only bring it up because you might find the solution to your problem there. There’s this one book I really enjoyed when I read it. It’s called ‘Elimination: A Guide to Self-Help and Problem Solving’. I think you’ll like it. It’s on the third shelf in the case closest to the window; it's behind the books. If you go now, you can read it during class. I'm sure the teacher won’t mind since it’s a library book.”

You held his gaze. Since you’d arrived, Yang Jeongin did not act as the other NPCs did. He seemed to move more fluidly, and broke off from his bubbly, friendly persona at times. Yes, you’d changed the autonomy and artificial intelligence of the student body, but this felt different somehow. While you’d normally suspect a trick by Minho, Jeongin did not express any malice or ill will towards you. He’d covertly helped you. He did it through messages and quick words. If it were Minho, he wouldn’t be trying to hide. 

“Thanks, Jeongin,” you said with a head nod. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’m always happy to help, hyung,” he beamed, stepping back and leaving you under the shade. 

Knowing you’re on a deadline, you left the courtyard for the empty library. Not very large, it only had four bookcases in total. Most of the shelves had books of various sizes and colors, but no titles on the spine. Out the window, you saw an outside view of the school’s garden. A nice quiet place for a studious person to get some work done. You went to the tall case near the windows, and found the book hidden behind several others. After years of being handled by various players, the book’s age showed in the worn out corners, peeling plastic, and stained pages. You saw previous players scribbled in the margins. Some were helpful tips they picked up, but you found some disturbing messages.

‘HELP! HELP! HELP! HELP!’

‘HE’S GOING TO GET ME!!’

You tucked the book in your bag and went straight to class. If this book offered any sort of help, you’d take it. Chan appeared to still be with Felix, so you had time to yourself before he arrived. The spine cracked stiffly as you opened to the first page. It gave a short introduction into the game, and offered a map of the school. You realized, as you skimmed the content list that it was an old game guide. It offered you information on every single aspect of the game. You knew why this book had been tucked behind the rest. It contradicted a lot of what Minho had told you. You skipped to the eliminations chapter, and looked up “Secrets”. 

“Once you discover your rival's secret, leave a note in their locker with a time and place. When you meet them, tell them you know about it. There are three eliminations tied to this: Blackmail, Befriend and Betrayal…”

Minho had told you to turn them in. He said it would work. He'd lied again, but this time you were not surprised. You searched the rest of the chapter. The book listed every possible elimination and offered step by step instructions. You could crush Changbin by throwing a heavy object from the school roof. You could drown him by sedating him and throwing him into the school pool. You could matchmake him with a student who has a crush on him. But, you saw one that caught your eye. Framing. You read on:

“A difficult elimination, you can frame your rival for a murder. If done right, it will result in an absolute elimination.”

Underneath, you saw the instructions on how to carry it out. It involved grabbing supplies, making your rival touch the murder weapon, and then using it to kill another student. You considered the method, worrying over the difficulty and time it’ll take. You read another elimination: Drive to Murder. 

“Another difficult elimination, you can brainwash a student to murder your rival or vice versa. This is achieved through the kidnap and torture method (See section 3, page 12). 

You read this with images flowing through your mind. These both sounded like viable options, but needed more than three days. You needed something quick and easy. Crushing sounded good. The book gave you three options: the rooftop air conditioner, a bookcase or one of the lockers in the locker room. The rooftop had a large air conditioner you could unscrew, then push onto Changbin when he’s underneath it. The bookcase and locker required luring him behind it and then pushing it onto him. All you needed was a screwdriver, which the book said was found in the workshop. 

Faking Suicide: Forge a suicide note in your rival’s handwriting, lure him to the rooftop, and then push him off. 

Electrocution. After spilling water near it, have your rival turn on the faulty light switch and watch him fry!

So many options, and you wanted to try them all. Minho never intended on anyone finding this book, so he could make himself the sole guide throughout the game. You wondered what else he was keeping from you. 

****

You’d start with the electrocution first. It was the easiest one out of them. The book said you’d find the bucket and water in the Home Economics room. During lunch, you’d been filling up the bucket when someone noticed you. 

“Hey, what’re you doing? It’s not cleaning time yet,” said a girl with dark auburn hair, holding a bento box. 

You paused, thinking quickly and said, “Oh, there’s this huge spill in the canteen area. I’m helping clean it up.”

“Oh, okay!”

You went back to the bucket, which you then lugged all the way to the second floor bathroom. A few students did stare in confusion when they saw you. You told the same spill story to those who happened to question you. As you walked, you worried being seen with this might implicate you later on. But, they’d have no proof you did anything to Changbin. After dropping it off in a corner of the bathroom, you went to the courtyard where you found Changbin. 

“Hey, hyung,” you said, adrenaline starting to build inside you. 

“Hey, YN,” he said flatly. You could tell he didn’t want to really talk, but that didn’t matter. “What’s up?”

“I thought you should know that someone wrote some graffiti about you in the second floor bathroom,” you lied.

“Someone wrote something bad about me?” He said with sad eyes. “What did it say?”

“I don’t think I can repeat it. I wanted to let you know.”

“Well, we should clean it off before anyone else sees it.”

“Yeah, I already got the bucket and bleach. I tried scrubbing it, but I didn’t get off much.”

“Let’s go see it.” 

Changbin’s helpful nature would be his undoing. You followed him as he went upstairs to the bathroom. Your heart thumped hard in your chest when he turned the corner into the dark bathroom. The light slaps of his shoes in the water puddle amplified in the empty room, and you forced yourself to suppress a giggle. 

“Ugh, it’s dark in here,” he scoffed. “Of course you couldn’t scrub it, YN-ssi. You can’t see the walls.”

“I had trouble with the light switch.” 

“Yeah, it’s broken. Someone said you have to fiddle around with it.”

You braced yourself to hear the flipping switch and sounds of agony, but nothing happened. “Whatever,” he sighed. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“What?” you asked, flustered. 

“Yeah,” he slumped past you, “It’s probably nothing people haven’t already said about me.”

“What are you talking about? People like you. They feel sorry for what happened to you.”

“Not everyone,” he replied, looking at you over his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, YN. It’s not like anyone actually goes in there anymore.” 

“But, Changbin-”

How can your elimination be foiled so quickly? Could it be that Changbin’s mood has made him apathetic to everything around him? You needed to move fast. 

Burning. The book said a bucket of gasoline and a good door trap can do the trick. You only needed matches from the Occult room or a Bunsen burner from the science lab. As lunch progressed, you ducked into the black and red Occult club where you saw they kept their ritual candles stacked in a corner. You scanned the black table for the matches, which you found hidden between two of them. Then you went to the gardening shed for gasoline. 

“YN-ah?” Chan came through the doorway, curious and looking about the shed. “What are you doing? I thought you’d be in the cafeteria.”

“Oh, I was on my way there when, um,” you tried thinking up a reason you’d have a gallon of gasoline in your hand. It was hard with Chan staring at you with his pretty brown eyes and furrowed brow. “When, um, one of the teachers asked me to get gasoline from the shed. Yeah, in the cafeteria, the gas stove isn’t working so she said to get this.”

“That isn’t how gas stoves work, YN-ah,” he said. “I think it’s a bad idea. Here, I’ll take it for you,” he reached for the gallon and you pulled away by reflex. “YN…”

“She asked me to do it,” you said nervously. Time was running out. Lunch time will be over and you’d have a harder time catching Changbin after school. “I don’t want to bother you with it.”

“Gas stoves don’t use this kind of gasoline. After Mrs. Yoon, I’m finding it harder to trust the staff around here. Please,” he grabbed the gasoline can before you can protest, “I’m only helping you, YN. I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

“Hyung, I’m sure she doesn’t-”

“-Come have lunch with me,” he said, putting the gasoline back on the shelf and withdrawing a key. As he led you out of the shed, you watched him lock it with disappointment. “They’re serving seaweed wraps today. I’m going to eat like a million of them,” he laughed sweetly. 

As tempting as lunch with Chan sounded, Tuesday is halfway over. “Sorry, hyung,” you said, “I already have lunch plans…with Minho.” If anything seemed to upset Chan, it was Minho’s supposed presence in your life. 

“Right,” he said, the smile dropping into a small scowl. “Minho…" the name came out in a soft hiss, hard turning stony and cold. You don’t even…Why would you…” 

His hand tightened around the padlock, and you saw him staring right at it. It came back like before. The familiar blue and white flickers went down Chan’s entire body this time. They made him wave in place like static on a screen. You saw anger flaring up in his eyes, all sweetness gone as he took in your words. 

“Hyung?”

“You do-on-t-t-t- lik-ikeee hi-m-mmm,” he said, neck twitching and hands shaking. He then froze in place, eyes bulging and mouth contorted at an odd angle. 

“Channie?”

"He-e-eee won-t treat you like I woul-l-ld." You saw him struggling to get the words out. The sense that someone else is behind these words came to you. "Don't go with hi-i-mm-mmm."

"Chan-hyung, what's wrong?"

"Min-n-h-ho-ho." Like before, he crashed completely. You moved to examine him closely, but he then suddenly snapped back to his usual bright smile. “Have a good lunch, YNie.”

He walked away from you. You waited until he turned the corner before leaving. Another glitch. What was happening? You worried what might happen if these glitches kept appearing, especially with Chan. But, what concerned you more was what he'd said and his reactions. The bugs became more apparent whenever you mentioned Minho or any romantic feelings surrounding him. It seemed whatever jealousy Chan developed since your changes now messed with the game. You stomped your foot in irritation. Why did this have to happen now? You have plenty of things going on. You don't have time to investigate this.

When you exited the garden, you saw Chan again. He stood talking to Changbin. You saw Chan put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, giving reassuring words of comfort and gentleness. Jealousy boiled inside you seeing them standing so close together. It should be you that Chan was speaking to so sweetly. It should be your jaw he’s caressing and your tears he’d wiping away. Maybe if the bug fixed itself, he really could do that. In the middle of the empty pathway, nobody saw Chan speaking soft words to a weeping Changbin. Nobody but you saw them embrace, Changbin sobbing into Chan’s shoulder. 

You needed to get rid of him. Quickly. 

With Changbin usually walking around school alone, crushing sounded like a good and easy option. You stole a screwdriver from the workshop room, and grabbed a piece of paper and pen. On it, you scribbled a note saying to meet by the dumpster after school to discuss “our predator”. You quickly folded it as you made your way to Changbin’s locker, the screwdriver heavy in your pocket. This had to work. This can't possibly fail.

Yes, yes it could.

Once the bell rang, you made your way up to the school rooftop where a large air conditioner vent stayed on one side. After expertly unscrewing the bolts of the machine, you pushed it closer to the edge where it’d easily topple over with a good shove. It didn’t take long to see Changbin walking from the locker rooms to the dumper area. Judging the proper aim, you took steady breaths to still your racing heart. You counted his steps as he walked into the gated area. He stared around for a moment, and you took your chance. Putting your back against the air conditioner, you pushed it over the side of the railing and down to the ground. Smirking, you thought you’d find a bloody, broken Changbin underneath the smashed unit. However, you didn’t. You saw Changbin standing two feet away from where you’d aimed, shocked and frightened by his close call with death. 

You managed to hide before he looked up. 

Agitation settled inside you on your way down. You wanted to punch something. You wanted to scream and shout into the void. After everything, you still have failed to eliminate Changbin. You took a seat on one of the canteen benches to consult the book. Reading the eliminations you’d done, you realized your mistake: you did them at lunch time, where most students are hanging about and will note your strange behavior. Before or after school are the best time for these eliminations, since there will be no witnesses or questions raised. You thought of trying them tomorrow, but that will only waste more time. 

For the next three days, time is of the essence. 

*** Later That Night***

They tried fixing it. They searched through strands and strands of code to find the broken pieces. They’d originally considered your reconfiguration a special surprise, but now it was more of a nuisance. They’d managed to patch up the cracks littered throughout the systems, but the character ones became rather tricky. They’d gotten to the Principal before she completely broke, but it’d been hard. They did not want to alter your changes too much, but the game might crash if these remained unchecked.  

Dark blue and white, they flickered like dozens of fairy lights strung against a black backdrop. Usually, the strips of code were pure white and moved in single strands. These lines twisted together with your additions, which had turned blue. They saw how the two lines tried meshing into one solid piece in places, but some parts remained separate. These made the glitches. Ropes of them went through the principal’s makeup, causing several holes that they filled. She had not been the only character affected by the change. The problem started with background characters who’d been lagging through the school or frozen in place by the twinkling glitches. Now, they found them in the main rivals and other important characters. They briefly wondered how long it’d take them to get to Minho. 

Finding a piece of Chan’s data file, they saw the glitching piece in the middle of the code. It hurt them to even be near their old self like this, so close and personal. They wished with all their being to become one with themselves again. Having been locked in the classified folders, they’d lost touch with their body. They did not feel human anymore. Seeing Chan like this hurts them , even if it is an altered version. They admitted they’d avoided diving into the character systems, worried they’d run into their old code. But, seeing the breakages that needed to be removed, patched, and put back, it was unavoidable. They’d move to fix the broken piece and replace it with a new one…

But then they saw you. They didn’t see you outside in a third person perspective like the usual way. This time, they had a first-person view. They looked at the world through Chan’s eyes in this small slit. Gingerly, they poked the spot and it vibrated through the strand, causing a ripple effect to the rest of the codes. They did it several more times, and realized what was happening. This tear in the code was their escape. It was their real escape back into the world. When they plunged a bundle of pixels in for a final time, however, the split began to burn. They yelped in pain and moved away. 

Pain. 

They felt physical pain. They’d never felt anything before. They touched the glitch again simply to feel it. They continued going through the lines, seeing breaks in the fake Chan’s codes and touching them. Each spark made them feel more alive. They saw pieces of the world, their little game world, through his eyes. It’d been so long since they’d been Chan, they’d become a ‘They’, a ‘Thing’, a ‘Code’. They’d stopped being ‘Chan’ and became ‘Lovesick’. All because of Minho’s jealousy and violence.

With these broken pieces, they could be ‘Chan’ again. They could live again. Picking up a broken piece, they saw it was part of the model designs. Yes, this was the first step. 

And they’d take it. 

****

A/N: What the hell is going on in this place?? Glitches, bugs, and failures aren't going to help YN. Please reblog and like <3

[letmeoutofthebasementt]

Skz ass tits or thighs

Truly the most important matter we’ve covered to date.

Also I had to be dramatic about this because I’m a dramatic person, Sue me. This is what I’m getting from the cards but just…Exaggerated a tad. Unless you’re Hyunjin, he’s so dramatic I don’t have to do much. He understood the assignment.

Chan

Ass. It makes him so happy, really. It’s euphoric, even. The art of ass. The pleasure ass brings visually and… Visually… Truly. And he likes sharing that with the masses. He preaches the ideals of ass loving, and enjoys nothing more but a handful in each cheek

Lee know

Ass. Him and ass are like Bobby and Whitney. They get along so bad but it feels so good. Him and ass are Bonnie and Clyde. Jean and Norma. Cathy and Anne. Susan and Sherry. (I dunno I’m just saying names at this point.) he’s passionate about the ass. Ass changes him. He is ass.

Changbin

Thighs. Thick thighs save lives and they’ve saved him. He thinks there’s something so glorious and magnificent about thighs. No gaps. Just thigh. Thighs calm his spirit. Complete him.

Hyunjin

Tits. I can’t say half of this UHM… Tits satisfy them. Large, small, saggy, perky, round, deformed, idk. If it’s on the chest it’s always the best. After feet. And yeah they…Complete him. In many ways. Many ways. They bring him stability. They bring him to Nirvana even. See, he’s saying a lot. But I can’t SAY a lot of it. So.

Han

Ass. Ass makes him so vain. Like “Yeah, that’s my partner. The one with the ass.” But it can temper even the most volatile of moods. Heal the greatest wounds. Temper storms and bring nations to heel or whatever. They make him dance. Prance, even. Like a ballerina. Like a swan. They make him feel things he’s never thought he could feel.

Felix

Thighs. He’s very open and honest about his love of thighs. It is no secret. All energy spent in the pursuit of thighs is well spent. Definitely not as passionate about it as the ones before him though.

Seungmin

Ass. Just ass like I’m not getting anything other than confirmation it’s ass I dunno what to tell you.

I.N

None 😭

[broken-glowsticks]

I... my brain... Short circuiting...

🩵🩵🩵🩵