[wendyyyyyyyy]

“The Best Birthday”

Pairing : Bang Chan x fem! reader

Synopsis : It’s Chan’s birthday, and you decide to surprise him with a home-cooked dinner in his favorite dress, after his gym workout. The only problem? Your cooking skills… need some work. But even when the food flops, he can’t stop smiling; because to him, the best part of his birthday isn’t the meal. It’s you.

Genre : Established relationship, Domestic fluff

Enjoy!

________

It’s late evening, the glow of the sunset bleeding soft gold through the curtains. The air smells faintly of vanilla and a little bit of burnt… something. You’re standing in the kitchen, apron tied over that dress he loves so much, trying your best, tongue poking out in concentration, following a recipe you swore looked simple online. Spoiler : it lied.

And then—

Click. The door opens along with the sound of gym bag hitting the floor. Chan’s voice, warm and already smiling, “Y/N? You home?”

You whirl around, spatula in hand, and there he is; fresh from the gym, hair a little messy, tank top slightly damp, that ridiculous post-workout glow that makes your heart stumble. He takes one look at you and his entire expression softens.

“Oh, baby… that dress? For me?”

You nod, pretending not to blush. “It’s your birthday. I wanted to cook for you.”

He walks over, grin tugging at his lips as he wraps an arm around your waist, glancing at the pan. “Mm, it smells… adventurous.

You side-eye him. “It’s edible, okay?”

“We’ll see about that.” He laughs.

He grabs a fork, takes a bite—and the way his eyebrows shoot up? You know you’ve lost this round. But he swallows, keeps a straight face, and goes, “Oh wow. A… bold flavor profile. So unique.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re lying.”

He laughs, grabs a bit on the fork, and gently presses it toward your lips. “C’mon, try your masterpiece, chef.”

You hesitate, but give in, and the moment it hits your tongue, you twisted your face. “Okay, okay, I admit it.. it’s terrible.”

He then bursts into laughter, the sound echoing through the room. Then he leans in and kisses your temple.

“Nice try, Y/N. Points for effort. But let me take over, yeah? Birthday boy privilege.”

You sigh, “Fine… but I’m helping.”

He just shakes his head, smiling, “You’re watching. I can’t risk my life twice in one night.”

You stick your tongue out at him, but step aside, leaning on the counter, watching him move around your kitchen like he owns it—like it’s his second nature. The muscles in his arms flex as he stirs, and he hums softly under his breath. You catch yourself staring, and he knows. He glances back with that smirk.

“Like what you see, princess?”

You roll your eyes, “Shut up and cook, birthday boy.”

Dinner turns out perfect. Of course it does; it’s Chan. You eat together at the little table, laughter tucked between bites, his hand resting over yours. He’s glowing in the candlelight, the edges of his smile soft and tired in that beautiful way.. content, peaceful.

Later, you’re curled up in his lap on the couch, his arms wrapped around you, movie playing faintly in the background. Your cheek rests against his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palm. He presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Thank you for trying, baby. You know… this—” he gestures around, at the soft lights, your dress, the warmth between you “—this is the best birthday I’ve had in a long time.

You tilt your head, teasing, “Even if I almost poisoned you?”

He chuckles, lips kissing the corner of your mouth.

“You could serve me burnt toast and I’d still ask for seconds if it means being with you.”

You swat his chest lightly, blushing, and he catches your hand, intertwines your fingers, and holds you a little closer.

Outside, the city hums softly. Inside, it’s just you, him, and the quiet hum of love you don’t need to name.

_______

A/N : My apologies if your cooking skill’s actually fire 😭 Hope you enjoyed this tho!

_______

[wendyyyyyyyy]

“Tell me with your eyes”

Pairing : Hyunjin x reader (9th member, maknae)

Synopsis : During a variety show game segment where a camera zooms in to see if your pupils dilate when looking at the members, you stay cool and unbothered… until Hyunjin takes the seat across from you. One look, and your reaction is undeniable, sending the studio into chaos and the internet into meltdown.

Genre : Fluff, Rom-com

Enjoy!

⸻

The studio lights hum like a low promise. A circular table sits under a theater of cameras; spotlights carve the edges of your face into something soft and obvious. The host’s grin is theatrical— wide, delighted, like he’s handing the night a corkscrew and taking bets on when the bottle pops.

“Next game!” he says. “We call it… ‘Tell Me With Your Eyes’.”

Your heart does that cute, stupid flip people write about in playlists. You sit in the hot seat, smile fixed, palms cool against your knees, while eight familiar silhouettes fill the other chairs across from you. They’re loud and ridiculous, already jostling like it’s rehearsal for a circus that happens to be emotionally devastating.

A technician rolls over a small device : nothing more than a camera with a macro lens and a soft ring light. The rules, explained in jokey pseudo-science by the host; the camera will slowly zoom in on your eyes while each member takes a seat across from you. If your pupils dilate noticeably when someone locks eyes with you, the hosts will declare the love-detecting machine “validated.” The audience hoots. The members exchange smug glances.

You promise yourself not to react. You will be cool. You will be calm. You will not—under any circumstances—give them anything.

First up, Felix. He arrives with his signature, sunny dumb-blur energy and does a little pointless dance just to see you twitch. You just blink. Nothing.

Jisung barges in next, he squeaks something hyper and hopeful but your pupils stay steady.

Chan then slides forward grinning. The camera closes in on your eyes; nothing changes. “Tough crowd,” he mouths. The studio laughs. You breathe out, triumphant.

Jeongin strolls over next with that sly, foxlike grin, and you flashed a smile at him. Still nothing with your pupils.

Seungmin approaches and drops a very dry one-liner that would make a sap cry, and yet, your pupils remain disappointingly ordinary.

Lee Know glides up next, says something casually ridiculous and the audience chuckles. Your eyes do not betray you.

Changbin bursts in after him, flexing his biceps like a cartoon bodyguard. You roll your eyes playfully and your pupils refuse to cooperate with the script.

They’d then pat each other on the back, trading fake sad and rejected faces as if you broke their hearts while the host calls for one more final round for the last remaining member, theatrically dramatic, and the studio hums with anticipation.

Hyunjin stands from his seat last.

He doesn’t burst in on a joke. He doesn’t make a spectacle. He just walks measured, and when he reaches the chair across from you, something in the room hushes. It’s not the lights. It isn’t scripted. It’s him. He sits, shoulders relaxed, and tilts his head in a princely way that says he’s both completely aware of every eye in the room and completely uninterested in the audience. He only cares about you.

You look at him. The sound for a heartbeat filters out—muffled host chatter; plastic creak of a mic stand. Time thins, the camera lens a hot star at the edge of your vision.

Then your pupils dilate.

It happens so fast it feels like being kissed by the dark. One second your eyes are normal, and another second, they’re wide, black wells that seem to drink in the light of the ring camera. There is no pause. Your body betrays you and stiffens like a secret forming.

The studio combusts.

Screams ripple from the members like a wave; teasing remarks and clapping erupted. They are all dying at the revelation.

Hyunjin, meanwhile, is impossibly still.

You can feel his presence like a second heartbeat. His cheeks are burning a color that’s almost, but not quite, shy pink. The corner of his mouth lifts, and his eyes, when they meet yours, are bright and a little wild, like someone who just read a secret line in a play and is delighted to find you memorized it too.

The host explodes theatrically: “WELL. WELL. WELL. SCIENCE HAS SPOKEN.” The audience roars, the members jab at one another, and every camera tries to catch the exact second your lids opened wider.

You bury your face in your hands and curse internally with an air of mortified fury. “Guys..stop..this is a trick—” you wheeze, words muffled. You want to die. You want, simultaneously, to laugh and to punch someone for making your insides flip out like an accordion.

Hyunjin then reaches out; not for theatrics, but for something small and steady, and rests a light, absurdly gentle finger on your wrist. His touch anchors you. He lets the audience be ridiculous and protects you with the smallest careless bravery.

The members keep teasing chaotically, and Hyunjin just let them; giving you the one look that says without words : I saw you first.

After the segment ends, backstage is a madhouse. The producer wants replays. The editing team marks the clip. In the hair and makeup room, members are still poking and teasing you, but Hyunjin stays near, drinking you in like he means to learn every inch of your unguarded reaction.

You tried to be indignant. You failed spectacularly.

⸻

The next day, the clip is everywhere.

X explodes in GIFs : the slow zoom to your eyes, the exact frame of dilation, Hyunjin’s little pinch-of-a-smile at the end. TikTok fan edits of the moment into a billion slow-mo soundbites bombarding everywhere. Hashtags trend across every social media, reaching to even other fandoms.

You open your phone and the mentions are a wildfire. DMs pour in from your friends : “I knew it!”, “Girl, what the helly?”, “Are you okay?” You can feel the blush creeping up your neck even over the glow of your screen.

Hyunjin’s feed? Quiet. He posts nothing. But he saves some edits he liked to a private folder. He watches them when the world isn’t watching. But when he catches your eye in the practice room, he stays nonchalant.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him later, somewhere between the chaos of interviews and the hum of a van. Your voice is small and earnest.

He lifts your chin with one finger and smiles like he’s decided on a small, excellent cruelty. “Don’t be,” he murmurs. “You reacted, and it was honest. I like honest.”

You want to fold into him, confess a hundred little betrayals—how your stomach still dropped, how you’d lied to yourself for days and nights, how seeing him made the world clap in stereo. Instead you smack his arm and he laughs, the sound a little relieved, a little proud.

“Also,” he says, a half-smirk grazing his mouth, “now the internet thinks we’re a science experiment. We should milk it.”

You glare. He leans in, conspiratorial, teeth flashing in a grin. “Not in public,” he promises. Then his voice drops, soft as the inside of a secret. “But definitely out of public.”

You laugh because you’re too dizzy not to. You laugh because the thing that scared you a lot is now a warm, ridiculous secret between two people who know the exact shape of each other’s foolishness.

And the truth— public, messy, viral or not—sits easy in your chest. The world may have seen the pupil-dilating proof, but the part that matters is private : the way Hyunjin’s hand finds yours after lights go down, the way his smile says without drama that he noticed first, and the way both of you will, from now on, always test each other with quiet glances.

________

[wendyyyyyyyy]

“The things beside you”

Pairing : Lee Know x Fem! reader (College AU)

Synopsis : Lee Know and you've been BFFs all your life and you are hopelessly in love with your senior, Chan, who doesn't feel the same way, when Lee Know has been there all along with a devotion you never notice. A story of loving someone who doesn’t love you back… and realizing what’s been right beside you the whole time.

Genre : Angst, Freinds to lovers

Enjoy!

__________

You and Lee Know are stupid-close — like, everyone jokes that you two share the same brain cells. He knows how you take your coffee, which song gets you out of bed, and the exact tilt of your forehead when you’re trying not to smile. You’re the kind of girl who laughs at every kind of joke Lee Know makes and would randomly disappear into quiet corners with a book. And Lee Know is your partner-in-crime and your softest refuge.

And then there’s Chan.

Chan is sunlight folded into a human frame: reliable, warm, the kind of senior who hands you the last piece of cake and expects nothing in return. You love him in the obvious ways — the way you linger a second too long when he brushes your sleeve, how your phone flips open the second his name lights up. You don’t tell anyone. You don’t need to; your eyes leak the secret for you. You’re obvious in a way that’s almost cruel to yourself.

You think he doesn’t notice. You’re not wrong. Chan is kind in the ways that make it easy to mistake friendliness for something more. He listens like he’s memorizing the curve of your sentences. He remembers your favorite color, the first line of your favorite poem, the way you hum when you’re nervous. But he doesn’t look at you the way your heart wants him to — not with hunger, not with that dangerous, claiming kind of stare. For Chan, you are a person to care for. For you, he is the only person you want.

Lee Know hates it.

He doesn’t say it with dramatic speeches or late-night rants. His hate is smaller, tenser, compacted into the way his fingers press on your shoulder, the way he clears his throat before he hands you a water bottle, the way he sits a little too close when you’re watching something dumb in the dorm lounge. It’s in the heat in his voice when he tells you to put on a jacket, like the world is absurd for thinking you should shiver when he can fix it.

“You’re ridiculous,” he says once after class, though his laugh is a little too forced. You’re sitting cross-legged on the floor in the study room, sneakers kicked off, while Chan sprawls on the couch with his laptop open, headphones on. The others have drifted out; the silence fills like a held breath.

“You’re mean, Minho.” You duck a throw pillow at him. He always lets you. Always.

Lee Know then flicks your forehead — a reflex, teasing and almost brotherly — and your stomach twists. He was sometimes too close that when he leans in to whisper about a lyric he likes, you'd feel his breath against your flesh. He'd smell like some lemon detergent and something sweet, and your chest would clench at the intimacy of it.

“I hate that you’re in love with him like he’s a sunrise you can’t touch,” Lee Know mutters, not looking at you. “Also, I hate that you’re glowing for somebody who’ll never burn his hands on you.”

You blink. The admission is blunt, the way he speaks when he can’t filter his feelings through jokes. You frown at him. “Minho—”

“No,” he says back quietly. “Don’t say anything. I’m not asking you to feel something for me. I’m asking you to open your eyes. You’re sitting with someone who’d hold a ladder and never climb. You deserve someone who’s willing to scorch a little if it means you’re warm.”

When you laugh, it comes out small. “That’s dramatic.”

“You like dramatic,” he says, flashing a knowing smile. “And you like him. I get it. But—” He swallows. “I get mad at him sometimes. Not because he’s mean, but because he’s… harmless. You deserve a little danger, too.”

You want to say he’s not harmless. You want to list every stolen second, every kind gesture Chan has ever given you that felt like a promise. But the truth sits between you in a way you can’t mend : Chan plays safe, and safe is not what a bleeding heart should ask for.

A few days later, there’s a gala. A charity thing on campus; suits, glittering lights — students joke it’s the perfect place for a heist, but the mood is soft, candlelight and quiet music. You’re there as the polite attendee — the picture-perfect face who smiles for cameras and takes polite sips of sparkling water — and Chan is there with that same calm, attentive gaze.

You watch him laugh with an organizer across the hall, the woman’s hand briefly resting on his arm. Your chest drops out of you. Everything becomes too loud : laughter, the clink of glasses, the way Lee Know’s hand tightens around yours in the crowd. He squeezes, a single steady pressure, and you realize later he’s been silent the whole night, the way someone who’s concentrating on not being swept away might be.

Once you’re back in the dorms, Lee Know keeps looking at you with concern. You’re quiet, fiddling with the strap of your purse, replaying Chan’s smile. Lee Know turns to you like he’s decided on something.

“You saw him,” he says. It’s not a question.

“What?”

“You saw him with that—” He stops, curses the vague word, then tries again, softer. “You saw him friendly with someone else.”

You close your eyes. “We were at a charity, Minho. He was talking to people. It doesn’t mean—”

“He was touching her the way he never touches you,” Lee Know interrupts. The words are small, but they hit like stones. “Not that he has to touch you like that. But you—” He stops himself. You can see him struggling to shape the thought into something less jagged. “You’re always there. You always have been. And he gives you crumbs of himself and calls it a feast. He loves you the way a library loves a reader; with patience and respect, but never in the kind of intensity you deserve.”

You stay silent, because your silence is a confession. It’s easier that way. You’ve been nursing this ache for so long that admitting it would mean facing the thing you’ve spent nights convincing yourself isn’t real.

Lee Know leans forward, and for a second — just a second — the space between you narrows dangerously. “I don’t want to be the guy who says I told you so,” he admits. “I want to be the guy who says, ‘Let me show you how somebody can be messy for you, for all the good that means.’”

That night, you dream about Chan. In the dream, he holds your hand and calls you by your name like it’s a secret. You wake up with Lee Know’s words in your ear and a hollow ache in your ribs.

Days turn into weeks. Chan keeps being kind in that gentle, indestructible way. He texts goodnight, asks about your day, offers his jacket when it rains. You adore him with the kind of old-fashioned devotion that feels almost criminal. Lee Know watches you with an expression that alternates between fierce and resigned. Sometimes he jokes, loud and silly, and you laugh because it’s easier than answering the question burning between you.

One midnight, Lee Know finds you sitting on the rooftop, legs dangling, the city spread beneath like spilled sugar. He sits without asking and hands you a can of soda.

“You okay?” he asks.

You take a sip. “Am I ever?”

He sighs. “You deserve more than a maybe.”

“I know,” you whisper. “I know, Minho.”

He swallows. “Then let me be the more for now. If you want me to step back, I will. If you want me to stay in the friend zone forever, I will. I just… I can’t watch you fall for a sunrise that doesn’t notice when the sky goes dark.”

It’s simple. It’s brash. It’s Lee Know, stripped of all jokes for a heartbeat.

You want to tell him that loving someone who doesn’t love you back is a kind of worship you don’t know how to stop. You want to tell him that leaving Chan is like amputating a part of yourself. But you also want to breathe without the ache, to let someone else burn for you while you catch fire.

“You hate that I can’t see what’s beside me?” you ask, voice small.

“I hate that you can’t see,” he says, the words heavy with something like tenderness and ownership. “And I hate that you’re okay with being unseen.”

You let the silence settle. For the first time in months, there’s a new chord under your ribcage — not Chan’s gentle warmth, but Lee Know’s heat, incandescent and near. It’s not a solution. It’s not a confession that fixes everything. It’s a beginning of something dangerous and real.

You don’t know yet whether you’ll keep loving Chan in the way you do — or if Lee Know’s steady, infuriatingly obvious devotion will teach you to love in a different way. What you know is this : Lee Know will not let you disappear into unreturned longing without making a fight of it.

And you? You’ll keep hurting a little, because loving someone who doesn’t feel the same is delicious and stupid and unbearably yours. But maybe — maybe — you’ll also let someone beside you fight for the part of you that’s been holding the lantern all alone.

Lee Know squeezes your hand once, decisive and warm. “If he doesn’t see you, I will,” he says, half challenge, half promise.

You let yourself believe it, just enough to breathe.

__________

[wendyyyyyyyy]

“Party 4 u (and you never came)”

Pairing : Felix x reader (College AU one-shot)

Genre : Angst / Bittersweet Melancholy / Unrequited love / Falling for your best friend

Inspired by “party 4 u” by Charli XCX.

Enjoy!

________

Felix and you have been best friends for the longest time. He is the campus’s heartthrob; popular, kind to everyone, looks like an angel and is an angel. And you? You are more of like his partner-in-crime, his bestie, the one that just stays beside him but never in the limelight.

You already knew, deep down at the bottom of your heart, that Felix never would see you in that way.

As much as it ached and how it gnawed at you to shed silent tears on your pillow every night, you were.. content. But sometimes, you hope. You really hope things could have been different.

One day, you threw a party for him. Your long-awaited birthday party.

You were not the type to even go to parties, let alone throw one. But you thought, if you did it, Felix would.. see you.

The invitation said it was just a little something; a casual and low-pressure, mostly mutual friends and too many strangers, because you were not brave enough to admit the truth. That this party… was only ever for one person.

Felix is the kind of person who exists like the gravity of a dying star; he pulls, and you fall. Hard. Messy. But quiet. It was a thousand contradictions exploding in the silence between your glances and his half-smiles.

You know his favorite drink. You made sure it’s there.

You queued the songs he'd casually said he liked once in a passing conversation six months ago.

You picked a dress you imagine he’d like.

You fixed your hair like that girl from the music video he sent you at 3 AM once.

Yep, you do too much.

And it’s so painfully obvious you’re doing it for him.

But nobody says it. Nobody ever says it.

Not even you.

⸻

The night started slow.

You kept looking at the door. Everyone else showed up. The noise grew, the lights dimmed, laughter floated—empty and disorienting, like balloons on strings about to pop.

You kept sipping your drink. You kept on glancing at your phone.

8:32 PM. You were still hopeful.

9:07 PM. You told yourself it was probably traffic.

10:11 PM. You started to feel it—like acid in your gut; the bubbling shame.

He was not coming.

But the thing is, you already knew.

Part of you always knew.

And now you kept partying on that knowing like it’s your punishment.

Cause you knew it couldn’t be helped.

⸻

You stood in the middle of the room with glassy eyes, laughter echoing in your ears like static. People danced around you. Talked over you.

They didn’t see you. You didn’t see them.

All you saw was the version of this night that existed in your head :

Felix walking through the door, smile pulling wide and warm just for you.

His eyes meeting yours from across the room.

His voice in your ear, saying, “You look beautiful tonight.”

But none of that happened.

It never was going to happen.

Because you were always the one who remembered too much. Felt too hard. Dreamed too far. You were hoping for something, anything, to make this aching devotion feel less humiliating. And he was like this unreachable shining star that flew farther away the more you tried to approach.

Your phone then buzzed. Finally. You grabbed it like it’s a lifeline.

Felix : sorry i couldn’t make it tonight. something came up :(

Your heart dropped like a champagne glass cracking against marble.

He didn’t say he missed you.

He didn’t ask how it went.

But, should he tho?

You : it’s ok. no worries :)

It definitely was not okay. And you were lying. And he would never know.

⸻

You found yourself in the bathroom, sitting on the edge of the tub, mascara bleeding into your waterline, lip gloss smudged from biting back the truth, and cheeks cold with drying tears, dress hunched awkwardly beneath you. You looked like art that has been rained on—ruined and poetic, the kind of beauty no one noticed until it was gone.

And you finally, truly understood :

Loving someone who doesn’t love you back isn’t just painful.

It’s embarrassing.

And somehow, that hurt you even more.

Part of you knew. And now…You partied on.

___________

[wendyyyyyyyy]

OPERATION : Oblivious Idiots

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Part 10 : “The Masterminds Behind the Madness”

You all arrived at the hospital, exhaustion clinging to every step, but a storm of questions swirling behind your eyes.

The front desk told you Minho and Seungmin were in Room 207. Sharing.

The second the door opened, the entire group froze in place.

There they were—Lee Know and Seungmin—sitting up in bed, completely fine.

No blood. No bandages. Not even a damn bruise.

Minho’s so-called “head injury”? Nonexistent.

Seungmin’s knee? He was sitting cross-legged like he just got done doing yoga.

And on the small table beside their beds?

Remote controls. Ropes. The same bag used on Hyunjin.

Literal props from your trauma. All just… laying out in the open.

The air dropped a few degrees.

Everyone stared, shocked beyond words. Not a single soul moved.

Busted.

They both turned toward the door, eyes wide like deer caught red-handed. But it was too late. The act was over.

Your eyes locked onto Seungmin.

He caught your stare, frozen in place.

You didn’t blink. Nor move.

Then, ever so slowly, you turned your gaze toward Lee Know.

“Minho,” you broke the ice. “Was that the wig from SKZ Family?”

His entire body locked up, his pupils dilating as he short-circuited on the spot.

“…W-What?”

Silence.

Then—laughter.

Low at first. Then louder.

Seungmin laughed.

Full, amused, unapologetic laughter.

“Oh my god,” Jisung muttered, watching in disbelief.

“What the fuck is happening right now?” Hyunjin waved his hands frantically.

Minho then also joined in on Seungmin’s laugh. Cackling. Two menaces laughing uncontrollably.

Jeongin pointed at them, eyes wide. “Are you SERIOUS?!”

Felix’s jaw dropped. “Y/N… please don't tell me…”

You crossed your arms. “It was them. Lee Know and Seungmin. They set the whole thing up.”

⸻

Flashback to the night you got drunk :

A blurry, intoxicated version of yourself sat in the hotel lobby, barely able to keep your head up. The world swayed violently around you as you giggled at something—a voice.

A male voice.

“Hyung, it’s so hot, I have to take off these stupid disguise sunglasses and this hoodie.”

Another voice—slightly higher, more frantic. “Shh, we might get caught. Just hold it in for a minute. What about me holding all of it in in this ridiculous outfit? This wig is killing me. It’s too hot.”

Your drunken self barely registered the words.

The first voice groaned, frustrated. “I can’t do this anymore, I gotta take it off. It’s not like Y/N will remember me. She’s too far gone. I don’t even need to pretend as your husband. All we have to do is make sure she ends up sleeping in the same room with Chan hyung, right?”

The second voice let out a breathy chuckle. “Yeah, we gotta put it to an end. How long has it been? I want the two idiots to realize their mutual pining and just kiss already. They are so oblivious, it’s crazy.”

A snort. “I don’t know if this is a good idea at all, but sparks might fly. I mean, if this doesn’t make them spill their feelings, nothing will.”

⸻

You told them the whole flashback, in every little detail.

The room erupted.

“WHAT?!”

“You’re joking—”

“No fucking way—”

“MINHO?! SEUNGMIN?!”

“EXPLAIN YOURSELVES!”

Both of them kept grinning, realizing how royally screwed they were, but still finding it funny.

“Well,” Seungmin stretched his arms lazily. “Guess we got caught.”

⸻

And so the interrogation began.

“Why?” You were the first to ask, your voice in disbelief.

Minho shrugged, still grinning. “Because you two were painfully obvious and painfully slow.”

Seungmin sighed. “The entire group has been watching you and Chan make googly eyes at each other for months. Months, Y/N. Do you know how painful it is to see two people be so stupidly in love with each other but still act like friends?”

“It was driving us insane,” Minho added. “So we decided a little push was needed.”

“Little push??” Jisung choked. “You faked a whole damn kidnapping!”

“Yeah,” Seungmin said proudly. “You’re welcome.”

⸻

“One day after practice,” Seungmin then continued to explain, “Minho hyung and I were just talking. And we were both fed up.”

“So fed up,” Minho muttered. “We decided the only way to make Chan hyung and Y/N confess was a life-or-death situation.”

“The mutual pining needed to end,” Seungmin said. “Like, immediately.”

“And the plan just spiraled from there,” Minho finished.

⸻

“The bottle,” Felix said suddenly, eyes narrowing. “The one Jisung and I brought to the party. You gave that to us, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, that was me,” Seungmin admitted. “I chose a really strong one to loosen her up.”

“Oh my god, Kim Seungmin.” Jisung shook his head in disbelief.

“It was harmless!” Seungmin defended. “Just enough to get her tipsy. We knew she could hold her liquor, but the goal was to make her just drunk enough to be… compliant.”

“And the vomit incident was total luck,” Minho chuckled. “Y/N puking on Felix gave us the perfect window. Changbin had to leave to get clean clothes, which left Y/N alone for just long enough for us to grab her and head to the lobby.”

“What about the photo you showed to the receptionist?” Jeongin asked.

“Well, remember that photo from SKZ Family?” Seungmin grinned. “The one where Lee Know hyung was wearing the wig?”

“We used that,” Minho added. “Told the front desk we were Chan hyung’s friends and needed a spare. Showed them the picture.”

“And since Y/N was with us,” Seungmin smirked, “no red flags.”

Unbelievable.

“But you could have just asked for Chan hyung’s room key just by being yourselves. Why fake your identities?” Changbin pondered, confused.

Seungmin crossed his arms. “Okay, technically yeah—we didn’t really need to go full Hollywood with the disguises just to get the room key. But imagine if it worked. You really think we wanted y’all to find out it was us who orchestrated it?”

“Exactly. If things went smoothly, we planned to disappear like ghosts—no traces, no names, just results. We didn’t want credit. We just wanted Chan hyung and Y/N together.” Lee Know smirked proudly.

Changbin rolled his eyes. “Still extra to me.”

Seungmin chuckled. “We weren’t being extra, we were being smart. Real spy shit.”

“Ok, enough about that. I wanna know about the hotel.” Felix cut in. “How did you even…?”

“We pitched it to Skijigi as a cool vintage spot with a lot of services and utilities,” Minho explained. “And they bought it. But of course, the real reason was that this hotel had the perfect setup for what we needed. Including the unused west wing.”

“Don’t tell me the bomb, the automatic locks, and the power outage were you too.” Hyunjin shook his head, looking at the equipments splayed across the table.

“Yep, it was all us,” Seungmin said proudly. “We didn’t sleep the night we arrived. Spent the whole night setting up the fake bomb, prepping the auto-locks, hiding props.”

“And yes,” Lee Know remarked amused , “the bomb was fake. Even if you two got the password wrong, nothing would’ve happened.”

Chan groaned into his hands. You raised your hands up in exasperation.

He then flashed a mischievous smile at Chan. “And Chan hyung, how were the little anonymous messages I sent you?”

Chan glared at him.

“Moving on, the power outage was arranged with the hotel,” Seungmin continued. “We got our Skz manager involved. He filed a formal request with the hotel, and they allowed us to cut it for one day. Even let us use the west wing.”

“Fucking hell,” Felix whispered. “This was a heist.”

Everyone was too fed up at this point, but too entertained at the same time by their insane plan.

“And remember when I tried to carry all nine glasses of juice during dinner?” Seungmin asked, smirking.

“And failed miserably,” Hyunjin said flatly.

“Yeah, that was a distraction. Once the blackout started, we used the chaos to put on our night vision goggles and grab Y/N.”

“She was taken to the storage room in the dark,” Minho nodded. “I tied her up so that her hero can come save her.”

He then winked at Chan and you. The AUDACITY.

⸻

“And later,” Seungmin said, “when Hyunjin, Lee Know hyung and I left to ‘go ask for help,’ we made our next move.”

“Yeah, you fucking locked me up in a room with props from a horror set!” Hyunjin shouted. “There was fake blood! And your stupid wig and dress.”

“Well, we didn’t mean to use the prop room,” Minho twitched his lips in amusement. “But, you were struggling so much we ended up shoving you into the nearest room. And that was our only slip-up.”

“I thought I was going to die!” Hyunjin gasped.

“You’re fine,” Seungmin rolled his eyes. “You didn’t even get hurt.”

⸻

“Oh my god,” Jeongin sighed at Minho. “So, your head injury. Seungmin hyung’s knee.”

“Fake as hell,” Minho was laughing now. “That fake blood was for my head.”

“We needed to make it look real,” Seungmin added. “If we got hurt, we’d be out of the suspect pool.”

“ACTORS,” Felix muttered.

“MENACES,” Changbin growled.

Minho winked. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Unbelievable,” Jeongin shook his head. “We went through hell for this.”

“Nightmare fuel,” Hyunjin mumbled.

“I’m traumatized now,” Jisung added.

“I still have a question. Why did you want Y/N to end up in Chan’s room?” Felix looked at them, curious.

Seungmin just shrugged. “I heard that close proximity makes things happen faster.”

Pffft.

“That was actually our plan A. The heist was plan B.” Lee Know was having the time of his life. “But since everything was already set up and we wanted to see y'all suffer, we decided to push with plan B too.”

“What the ACTUAL fuck?” You were so done now. “You guys are legit nuts, go seek therapy or something.”

Chan groaned. “That’s why you two suddenly came knocking at my door to go eat breakfast with you the next morning. You just wanted to check what happened. And here I thought you cared about me for real.”

Both of them laughed.

“Hyung, we care about you. Why do you think we did this from the first place?” Seungmin went and patted Chan’s back playfully.

They were so proud of their plan.

They thought it was a huge success.

Because they assumed—

“You guys even ended up having sex, right?”

Everyone turned to stare at you and Chan.

Lee Know was enjoying it. “I mean… we weren’t expecting that much of an escalation, but like… cool, I guess?”

You scowled at them and decided to drop the bomb.

“The sex never happened.”

Complete dead silence.

“Now what?! Care to explain?” Hyunjin sighed, too fed up with the endless revelations.

“Chan wasn’t the only one who took off his clothes because of the hot weather that night. I did too.”

“What now?” Jeongin tilted his head, confused.

Somewhere in the middle of the night, your alcohol-infused, heat-exhausted brain had decided that stripping down completely and passing out was the best move. You didn’t remember it at first but the memory gradually came back.

And that’s why everyone assumed something had happened when they found you wearing Chan’s clothes the following morning.

You explained it to them.

“A blessing in disguise, honestly. Because if it had happened, who knows what kind of disaster that would’ve caused?” Changbin reflected.

Chan then sighed, crossing his arms.

“You two really did all that for nothing,” he said dryly. “Because Y/N already drunk-confessed her feelings to me long before your little elaborate plan.”

You felt the heat crept up your cheeks yet again.

“What the fuck again? Care to explain?” Jisung looked like he just wanted to disappear from everything that was happening.

“Y/N dialed me and confessed to me when she was drunk at the party.” Chan clarified. “And since I knew then what she felt, I was gonna confess back to her.”

Seungmin and Lee Know crumbled hearing that.

“We fucking orchestrated and really committed to the plan.” Minho looked defeated. “Are you kidding me?!”

“So, you’re telling me, all that needed was to make Y/N get drunk?” Seungmin facepalmed.

“I mean, you deserve it, you sneaky bastards. Playing all of us like that. Next time don’t pull stunts and just be the divorced couple.” Jisung glared at them, ready to throw hands.

“You know, you could have included the rest of us in your plan if that was to make Chan hyung and Y/N confess. Why just you two?” Hyunjin pouted, feeling salty.

“We wanted to watch all of you get confused and suffer.” Minho wiggled his eyebrows at Hyunjin, with his mischievous smug grin.

Literal menaces to society.

_____

Chan sighed. “I was ready to risk it all on a bomb that wasn’t even real!”

“But you confessed,” Seungmin grinned. “Didn’t you?”

Even then, your hand was still in Chan’s.

Everyone looked down at your intertwined fingers.

“Don’t tell me it was worth it,” Felix muttered.

Minho crossed his arms smugly. “I mean, look at them.”

Chan sighed again, rubbing his forehead. “I hate that it worked.”

Hyunjin groaned. “We could have been part of the plan. I hate you both.”

“You were part of the plan,” Seungmin said with a smirk. “You just didn’t know.”

“You really made us all suffer with them,” Changbin grumbled.

Minho grinned. “That was the point.”

“So now what?” Jeongin muttered.

You looked around at everyone. Everything was out in the open now.

The two menace masterminds.

And the two oblivious idiots who took a near-death experience to finally confess.

…And may be your crazy matchmakers deserved a tiny bit of credit.

⸻

THE END.

⸻

A/N : Thank you for sticking to the end. Hope you enjoyed. 🤍

[wendyyyyyyyy]

OPERATION : Oblivious Idiots

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

⚠️ Content Warning : Mentions of injury, kidnapping aftermath, nausea/panic, and implied trauma. Please proceed with care.

⸻

Part 9: “No Rest for the Wicked”

You and Chan rushed over to Seungmin as soon as he stumbled into the room, looking like a wreck. His hair was tangled and his clothes were a mess of dirt and dried mud, but what caught your attention most was the way he winced with every step.

“Are you okay? What happened?” you asked, voice trembling as you held his arm.

“Someone pushed me when the lights went out. I hit my knee hard and… it’s been killing me,” Seungmin groaned, his hand gripping just above his leg.

Your heart clenched. He was limping, exhausted, and clearly in pain. And he wasn’t the only one.

All three of you—Chan, Seungmin and you—were looking battered, filthy and drained as you made your way through the shadowy corridors, back toward the exit of the unused west wing of the hotel.

When you reached it, the rest of the boys were already there.

“It’s locked.”

“We’re trapped here.”

Your stomach dropped. The route to the main building—your one shot at rest and safety—was completely inaccessible.

“Again?!” Chan cursed under his breath.

Minho leaned weakly against the wall, pale and clearly in pain. Though the bleeding from his head had slowed, he looked like he could collapse at any second.

It all became too much—the weight of the whole day dawning upon you. The nausea hit you like a tidal wave and you barely turned away in time before vomiting onto the floor. Your vision blurred with tears, and immediately, Chan was by your side, arms around you as he whispered soft reassurances into your ear.

“I got you, Y/N. You’re okay, I’m here. Just breathe.”

And that’s when it happened—a flicker in your mind. A flash from the night before when you were too drunk to piece things together. Two voices. Not a man and a woman. But of two men.

Chan noticed immediately, his hand tightening around yours. “Y/N?” he asked gently.

That “manly woman”… had indeed been a man in disguise. You already suspected it. And yes, the memory just confirmed it. So, why orchestrate this whole damn nightmare?

You nodded back at Chan. “I’m okay.”

“We still need to go find Hyunjin,” Jisung shot a set of tired eyes at you two, “but we decided to wait for you first.”

“We wanted to look for him together instead of splitting up this time. Learnt it the hard way.” Felix continued, with yet another set of tired eyes.

And so everyone went on to search for Hyunjin together. Minho and Seungmin stayed behind, both in rough shape. But when you insisted to stay behind with them in case anything happens, they both shook their heads.

“You go,” Minho muttered, voice strained. “We’ll be fine.”

“I don’t want to leave you guys,” you protested.

“We insist,” Seungmin said firmly. “He needs you.”

That he made your chest tighten.

So, you nodded at them and followed the search team.

———

Meanwhile, Hyunjin banged against the door of his room, shouting until his voice went hoarse. He didn’t know where the others were or how long it had been. But he knew they’d come. Stray Kids always comes for their own.

And they did.

You were the first to hear his banging and spot the door, and the most jarring part? The lock wasn’t tampered. There was a literal key lying right in front of it.

“What the hell…?” Changbin whispered.

Felix bent down, picked up the key, and unlocked it with one click. The door creaked open. Hyunjin stumbled out, disheveled but perfectly unharmed.

Not a scratch.

“Are you okay?” Chan asked.

“I… yeah. I’m fine.”

You exchanged uneasy glances. How was it that Hyunjin, of all people, walked out without a mark, when Minho was bleeding and Seungmin could barely walk?

Something didn’t feel right. None of this did.

———

Back at the entrance, you found Minho and Seungmin standing beside the now open door.

“Wait. It’s… open?”

“How’d you do it?” Chan asked, brows furrowed.

“It just unlocked on its own,” Seungmin explained, still leaning against the wall. “The same way how B27 door locked you up by itself. Looks like they want us to leave now.”

You swallowed hard. That could only mean one thing.

“They got what they wanted.”

Chan grabbed your hand. Your fingers laced together automatically. Warmth bloomed in your chest even in the midst of all this chaos. You looked up at him. He gave you that soft look—the one only you got to see now.

The memory of what you both said to defuse the bomb hit you hard again.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Chan.”

God, you almost died. Together. That kind of love… it doesn’t just disappear.

———

Back in the hotel’s main building, everyone was beyond done—tired, sore, and emotionally wrecked.

When the company staff asked what happened, you all gave a very vague answer : a scavenger hunt gone wrong. No one mentioned the kidnapping. The traps. The bomb. Not even the confessions.

Not yet.

The “sex” was still on the line. Asking for help would’ve been the nuclear option to reveal about it, and now that the worst seemed over, you were determined to solve this yourselves. But, you all earned a really big scolding from the company for doing something so reckless to the point of getting hurt.

That night, everyone crashed in Chan’s room as per instrcuted by Chan to be safer. Except for Lee Know and Seungmin who had been taken to the hospital for their injuries.

And despite the comfort of being together, none of you could sleep. Not after the hell you’d been through.

So instead, you sat in a circle on the floor, piecing together what you knew.

You looked at Hyunjin. “When you got attacked, did you hear anything? Any voice of the kidnappers?”

He shook his head. “I was too panicked. I don’t remember. I… I just struggled.”

“But when I was locked in that room, I saw some weird shit,” he added. “There was a wig. A woman’s dress. Even a bag of fake blood.”

Everyone fell silent.

You stared at the floor, racking your brain. You had to remember something more. Anything to solve this mystery. This limited information was still not enough to find the culprits.

And then—Chan squeezed your hand, grounding you.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

You nodded.

The others noticed that little interaction.

“So you two are a thing now?” Jeongin smirked.

“Finally,” Jisung added with a dramatic sigh.

“We all saw it coming,” Felix laughed. “Congrats.”

“Stay lowkey though,” Hyunjin teased. “No PDA unless we ask for it.”

You groaned. “Ugh, the teasing’s back.”

But then Jeongin commented, “Your mutual pining was insane. Took you long enough.”

And that phrase—mutual pining—hit something deep in your mind.

Like a switch being flipped.

Another memory unlocked—vivid this time. Clear. Not blurry or confused.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, eyes wide. “We need to get to the hospital. Now.”

⸻

Part 10

[wendyyyyyyyy]

OPERATION: Oblivious Idiots

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Part 6 Part 7

⚠️ Content Warning : This chapter contains themes of kidnapping, physical violence, blood/injury, psychological distress, bomb threats, panic attacks, and life-threatening situations. Reader discretion is advised.

⸻

Part 8 : Confessions at the Edge

Fifteen minutes. That’s all you had.

You and Chan stood in the storage room, his body still slightly trembling from the adrenaline, yours pressed to his side as you both stared at the small blinking light on the bomb—red, constant, unforgiving.

Another message buzzed on Chan’s phone:

“You only have one try.”

Your heart dropped. One try? One single mistake and it was over. You, him, and maybe even the others.

———

Meanwhile…

Hyunjin, Lee Know, and Seungmin were rushing down the hall toward the staff’s office, but just as they were about to turn the corner—

The power cut again.

And everything else got dark, thick like a nightmare. It was the same blackout as the one at the storage room and room B27.

Hyunjin immediately grabbed his phone and switched on the flashlight, scanning his surroundings—but before he could react, a hand gripped his arm tight.

Another hand yanked him back, a black cloth bag yanked over his head. It was thick, rough—blinding.

Panic kicked in as Hyunjin screamed and thrashed in their grip, voice echoing into the dark hallway.

“LEE KNOW HYUNG! SEUNGMIN!!”

No response. No sound.

Where were they? Why were the kidnappers out here, instead of dealing with the bomb inside?

Did they know the trio was going for help? Were they trying to silence them before they could bring reinforcements?

Hyunjin was dragged, shoved into another room, and the door slammed behind him.

Locked. Alone. Isolated.

Their second victim.

———

Back in the storage room.

You and Chan stared at the bomb.

One try.

Two conversations.

Clue: feelings.

Outside the room, Felix, Jisung, Changbin and Jeongin were panicking.

“You don’t have to do this, hyung!” Changbin shouted through the door. “There has to be another way!”

“We can’t risk both of your lives over a damn guess,” Han cried. “Lee Know hyung, Seungmin, and Hyunjin will come back with help. They have to.”

Jeongin, desperate, “Just hold on! Please, don’t do anything reckless—”

Chan turned to the door, voice loud and firm.

“Get away from the door! I said go! If this goes wrong, I’m not risking your lives too. Just—go!”

But of course, they didn’t move.

Stubborn. Loyal. Stray Kids.

Just then, the lights flickered.

The blackout ended.

And then—

Minho came running back.

His head was bleeding, shirt torn, breath ragged. He stumbled toward them, nearly collapsing.

“Hyung?! What happened?!” Felix rushed to catch him.

“We—got ambushed,” Minho gasped, pressing his hand against the side of his head, blood staining his palm. “They were waiting for us.”

“Where are Hyunjin and Seungmin?!” Jisung asked, frantic.

“I— I don’t know,” Minho choked out. “I woke up alone.”

Inside the room, Chan heard everything. You saw the storm in his eyes—rage, panic, heartbreak.

“For fuck’s sake!” he yelled, slamming a fist against the wall. “Why does this shit keep happening?!”

“We’ll figure this out,” you whispered, trembling. “We have to.”

Chan clenched his jaw, and shouted at the door :

“Take Lee Know and go. Now. Find the others. I’ll handle this.”

The members outside finally listened. They knew they had no choice.

So they left, as much as it hurt. Minho limped alongside them, still reeling.

Eight minutes had passed.

It was do or die now. Help wasn’t coming.

You turned to Chan, heart hammering.

He looked at you—sweaty, dusty, broken and brave—and held your face in his hands.

“Alright,” he said, voice low and steady. “Here goes nothing. We might actually die in here, so I’m not walking out of this without telling you what I’ve kept locked inside.”

He pulled you in closer, both arms around your waist now, his forehead resting against yours.

“I love you, Y/N.”

And your entire world… stopped.

Your mind short-circuited. Did he just—?

Then—beep-beep. The bomb light flickered.

It registered his voice.

That was it. One of the conversations. That was the correct phrase. You gasped, heart skipping.

Chan looked just as stunned.

He hadn’t meant it as a password. He said it because… it was real.

“I love you too, Chan,” you whispered, tears filling your eyes.

Another flicker. The second light lit up.

And then—

the bomb roared to life.

A vibrating growl buzzed from the device, red light flashing violently.

“NO!” Chan turned, immediately wrapping himself around you, his back shielding you from the blast he thought was coming.

His arms were tight, trembling. You could hear his heartbeat pounding through his chest.

You clutched his shirt, your own tears falling now.

So, this was it? The bomb was about to go off and you both clinched into each other, accepted your fate.

And then… the light went green.

Silence.

Defused.

The bomb powered down, lights dying out. The tension shattered like glass.

You collapsed against him, whole body shaking. Tears streamed freely as the wave of shock and relief crashed down on both of you.

And yet, through all of it—you felt safe. Loved. Wanted.

The door behind you clicked open.

Chan’s phone buzzed.

“Congratulations. You have answered the correct answers. You are free to go now.”

But neither of you moved.

You clung to each other like you were still in danger. Like letting go meant losing something sacred.

And then—suddenly—

Seungmin burst into the room, hair wild, clothes caked in mud, his eyes wide with panic.

He looked like he had crawled out of the ground itself.

What the hell just happened to him?

⸻

Part 9

[wendyyyyyyyy]

OPERATION : Oblivious Idiots

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

⚠️ Content Warning : This chapter contains themes of kidnapping, confinement, physical restraint, emotional distress, implied violence, and references to a bomb threat. Reader discretion is advised.

⸻

Part 7 : Through Fire, Through Fear—For You

Chan stood with his hand on the cold metal doorknob, looking back at the boys with that practiced, warm smile—the one that always convinced them he had it handled, even when he was seconds away from breaking. “I’m just going to re-check the west hall. In case we missed something earlier,” he said, calm and measured.

“If I’m not back in an hour… tell the staff. Do what you need to do.” Chan just smiled.

“Hyung…” Jeongin called, eyes narrowing with suspicion. “What do you mean if you don’t come back? Where are you really going?”

He didn’t say anything back. He just turned and walked off.

The moment he disappeared around the corner, the members exchanged a look. Of course they weren’t letting him go alone. Not when you were still missing. Not when Chan looked like he was about to throw himself into something reckless. So they followed. Quiet, careful, just out of sight.

Chan entered the room B27 the message had led him to. It was eerie—dust clinging to every surface, air thick and unmoving like no one had stepped foot in there for years. A faint buzzing sound filled the silence. Something didn’t feel right.

He stepped forward. The second his boot hit the cracked floor tile—

Click.

The door locked behind him.

His heart sank.

He turned and yanked the knob—nothing. “Damn it,” he muttered. “Of course it’s a trap.”

Outside, the members arrived just in time to see the door shut. They rushed to it, trying to open it. Nothing.

“It’s locked!” Jeongin panted, slamming his hand against it.

Changbin sighed, “It’s an automatic lock… looks like only whoever set this up can open it.”

“Chan hyung! Are you okay in there?!” Felix shouted through the door.

Chan widened his eyes and realized the members have tailed him from behind. Of course, what did he expect? Since they’re all here already, he had to go all in now.

From the other side, Chan called out, “I’m alright! Don’t panic. Just don’t do anything rash!”

And then, you heard it.

The commotion. The voices.

It was faint, muffled… but they were there.

You tried screaming, thrashing, even if the cloth gag stopped your voice from breaking through. It was useless.

But then—he heard you.

Chan’s head whipped toward the wall. That sound. It wasn’t just the boys.

That was you.

He pressed his ear against the vent on the wall. It was old, rusted, but sound carried through it.

“Y/N…?” he whispered, afraid he imagined it.

You whimpered again, desperate, hopeful.

He gasped, instantly crouching down and speaking directly into the vent.

“Y/N! Do you hear me?! I’m right here!”

You froze. His voice—his voice.

A sob wracked your chest. Tears spilled uncontrollably as you cried behind the gag. The way he called your name… you weren’t alone.

“Y/N, I’m here,” Chan said again, louder. “I hear you. I’m not gonna leave you behind, okay? You’re safe now. I’ve got you. I promise.”

You let out a choked sound. His voice was the only thing anchoring you to reality now.

“I know you’re scared. But you don’t have to be anymore. I’m coming to you, Y/N. No matter what it takes. Just hang on.”

Chan’s fists clenched. He had to get to you. He couldn’t just talk to you through cold metal. He needed to touch you, to hold you, to make sure you were really okay.

Meanwhile, outside the room, the boys knew time was up. This wasn’t just a prank or a lost-and-found situation anymore. They had to inform the staff—now. So Minho, Hyunjin, and Seungmin took off, sprinting down the halls to find someone, anyone, who could help.

Jisung, Jeongin, Changbin, and Felix stayed behind.

But just as the first taste of hope returned…

Chan’s phone buzzed.

New Message:

“You didn’t follow the rules. You brought the others. Now, she suffers.”

Chan’s blood boiled. “No. NO! Don’t you fucking touch her!” he roared.

He rushed back to the door the boys were at, yelling, “She’s in the room next to me! Y/N is right there!”

“What?!” Jeongin cried. “We’ll go to her!”

But before they could move—

Darkness.

The power cut again. The corridor was swallowed in black.

A cruel, mocking twist of fate.

Buzz.

Another Message:

“If anyone opens her door… everyone dies. The door is wired to a bomb.”

Chan froze. “DON’T OPEN IT!” he screamed. “STOP! THERE’S A BOMB!”

Everyone stopped.

A deadly silence fell.

Even you heard it. The word bomb ringing in your ears like a death sentence.

You started shaking uncontrollably. Tied up, gagged, unable to scream, terror ripping through you like fire.

Chan couldn’t waste a second anymore.

He turned to the vent.

He was going in.

No thoughts. No hesitation. No logic. Just you.

He unfastened the loose bolts, shoved his body through the tight metal tunnel, heart thundering in his chest. Dust coated his skin, scratching his arms, but he didn’t stop. He could hear your every sob that made his heart ache in ways he couldn't understand.

You heard him too. His desperate crawling. His ragged breaths. His devotion to do anything to have you in his arms.

And then, he burst through.

The vent door crashed open, and Chan fell into the room, covered in dust and sweat, but you could sense his eyes even in the dark—those warm, determined, beautiful eyes—searching for yours.

You broke. The moment his arms wrapped around you, you let go. The fear, the pain, the helplessness—it all came out in your sobs.

“I got you,” he whispered, pulling you into him. “You’re safe, Y/N. I’ve got you now.”

He untied your wrists, gently removed the gag, and held your face in his hands like you were the most fragile thing in the world.

But just as your heartbeat began to slow—

Buzz.

New Message:

“The bomb will go off in 15 minutes. You can defuse it… by saying two conversations to each other. The bomb is voice regulated. The answer is between you… and about you. Clue: feelings.”

You stared at each other. Holding hands. Confused and terrified.

But you had no choice now.

Your love might be the only thing that saves your lives.

⸻

Part 8

[wendyyyyyyyy]

OPERATION : Oblivious Idiots

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

⚠️ Content Warning : This chapter contains scenes of kidnapping, physical restraint, and emotional distress. Reader discretion is advised.

⸻

Part 6 : “The Search”

Chan's jaw was clenched so tight it ached. His fists were shaking at his sides through the tension, barely held together.

Why you?

Why now?

Why like this?

He hated the way it made him feel—like he wasn’t in control, like someone had stolen something that belonged to him. You were his responsibility. You were his. And they took you.

And worst of all, he couldn’t go to the company for help.

The “sex” that supposedly happened between the two of you was already dangerous enough. If the company found out, not only would chaos erupt—your image, your safety, his career, your career—all of it would be on the line. So no, involving the staff was out of the question.

They had to fix this on their own.

Chan quickly gathered the members and divided them into pairs.

“Spread out. Cover every inch of this place.”

Chan paired with Jeongin.

Minho with Jisung.

Hyunjin with Changbin.

Seungmin with Felix.

They searched everywhere.

The balconies.

The fire exits.

The stairwells, emergency rooms, even the basement access.

Parking lot. Rooftop. Janitor’s closets. Storage lockers. Vending machine areas.

Every hallway, every dark corner. They even questioned hotel staff under the radar.

But you weren’t anywhere.

And with each passing minute, the pit in everyone’s stomach grew heavier, darker.

Jisung kept muttering under his breath, trying not to cry.

Hyunjin’s hands were trembling.

Felix kept dialing your number. Over and over again. Each time it went straight to voicemail.

“Y/N, please… pick up,” he whispered. “Pick up just once…”

Chan felt like he was being suffocated.

He couldn’t even breathe without it hurting.

⸻

Meanwhile…

Your eyes fluttered open to pitch blackness.

You weren’t sure if you were dreaming—no, nightmaring—until the stiffness in your limbs brought you crashing into reality.

You couldn’t move.

You were tied up. Your wrists were bound tightly behind your back, ankles stiff and numb from the way they were roped together.

Your mouth was gagged with some kind of cloth, preventing any actual words from forming. Only muffled noises escaped your throat. You tried screaming, tried thrashing—

But it was no use.

The room was dark… but not completely. You could make out vague shapes.

Boxes.

Cleaning supplies.

Old decorations and disused hotel furniture.

A dim green glow from a small emergency exit sign barely lit the room from across the way.

You were in some kind of storage room. Somewhere deep. Somewhere isolated.

Your phone? Gone.

No windows.

No clock.

You had no way of knowing how much time had passed—or how much longer you’d have to stay there.

And that’s when the fear really settled in.

What if they didn’t find you?

What if this was more than just a scare?

What if—

No.

No, you couldn’t spiral.

They would find you. Chan would find you.

He had to.

You shifted again, wrists straining against the ties. Your body ached.

You were scared.

And helpless.

But you didn’t give up.

⸻

Back to the Search

It had been hours.

Everyone was slowing down, drained and pale from the weight of it all.

Hyunjin leaned against a wall. “If we don’t find her by sunrise, we have to tell the staff.”

“We can’t wait that long,” Chan muttered, pacing like a wild animal in a cage. “I don’t care what time it is.”

“She could be gone, hyung,” Jeongin said softly. “Like… not in the hotel anymore.”

Chan stopped walking.

His hands curled into fists.

His breathing was sharp, shallow.

Everyone else… sat down. Heads in hands. Silent. Heavy.

But not Chan.

He couldn’t.

He wouldn’t.

And then— His phone buzzed.

An anonymous number.

A single message.

“Room B27. One hour. Come alone. Tell no one. If you alert anyone, she gets hurt.”

His heart dropped into his stomach.

B27.

That wasn’t a guest room.

That was deep in the hotel’s unused west wing—an old employee section sealed off during renovations months ago.

He read the message again. Then again.

Chan knew he was being blackmailed, and he may be going directly into the trap. But what else choice did he have? Call him reckless or irrational but.. he was going to do it if that meant ensuring your safety.

And then he typed back.

“I’ll come alone. But if even a scratch is on Y/N, I swear to god—I will find you. I’ll dig you out from whatever hole you’re hiding in, tear down every wall if I have to, and make you pay ten times over. That’s a promise.”

His thumb hovered. Then he hit send.

And he meant every single word.

⸻

Part 7

[wendyyyyyyyy]

OPERATION : Oblivious Idiots

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Part 5 : “Diner Blackout”

The air in Chan’s hotel room was thick with confusion. Everyone was trying to piece things together, their brains practically overheating from all the back-and-forth theorizing. You sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at your hands as your thoughts raced. Something about the description of the culprits—a manly woman and her husband—itched at the back of your mind. It was familiar. Too familiar.

Something was definitely feeling fishy.

A manly woman.

What if it wasn’t a woman at all?

A man… dressed up as a woman?

The revelation hit you like a truck. The shock. That would explain it, right? The buff build. The deep voice.

But why would someone go through all that trouble? To disguise themselves as a woman?

Because… they didn’t want their identity to be seen.

Why?

Because… they were someone you knew. Or maybe they just didn’t want to get caught.

They also knew Chan’s room number. That meant they were close to him.

You sat there, your mind spinning at a hundred miles per hour, but you kept it all to yourself. You didn’t reveal it to the members. Not yet. Not until you were sure.

And then— after more pondering, Chan pulled you aside.

⸻

Chan shut the balcony door behind him, sighing heavily. The breeze hit your skin, but you barely felt it. Your mind was still racing.

“I think I finally remember why I was half-naked last night,” he muttered, running a hand through his curls.

Your heart skipped. “You do?”

He nodded, leaning against the railing. “It was… just too hot. The meds I took made me sweat like crazy, and I was too out of it to care. I guess I must’ve woken up for a second, took my shirt off, and then passed out again.” He exhaled sharply. “And as far as I remember, you weren’t even there yet.”

Your lips parted slightly.

So that’s why.

Everything was starting to come together.

⸻

You went back into the room, Chan following closely behind.

The others were still deep in discussion, analyzing every single possible theory.

“We’re going with the idea of two sasaengs,” Jeongin said, crossing his arms.

Chan shook his head. “It’s impossible. You know how tight hotel security is. No way two randoms could get that close.”

“But the chance isn’t zero,” Jisung countered, hands thrown up in frustration. “Until we find actual proof, we can’t rule it out.”

And so, the discussion continued.

You stayed quiet, letting them run wild with possibilities while your mind kept circling the earlier moment on the balcony with Chan.

Still, the group needed something to work with, and they weren’t stopping anytime soon.

Lee Know suggested it could’ve been a hotel employee working undercover.

Felix guessed maybe it was a past sasaeng who had inside help.

Even Hyunjin got a little wild, throwing out the theory that maybe it wasn’t targeted at Chan at all—but at you.

That silenced the room for a moment.

That… actually didn’t sound entirely off.

And before anyone noticed, time flew by and it was already dinner time.

Jisung groaned and flopped back into the couch. “My head’s gonna explode. I need food before I lose it.”

Hyunjin immediately agreed. “Same. Let’s clear our heads and eat.”

Everyone gave in—brainstorming on an empty stomach never helped anyone.

⸻

The hotel diner was quiet, classy, dimly lit with gentle ambient music playing through overhead speakers. You all walked in together, exhausted but hungry. The long rectangular table near the back was where you settled in.

You were at the farthest left end, back to the entrance, eyes facing the wall. Jeongin was beside you, and across from you—Chan.

You caught him glancing at you every now and then, a worried crease still etched between his brows. That furrow never really went away after everything.

Dinner was calm.

Until it wasn’t.

Lee Know and Hyunjin got up first, deciding to grab some fruit from the island across the room. Seungmin went next—grabbing a large tray and carefully stacking nine cups of juice from the “serve yourself” counter.

The boy really tried.

He balanced everything with more grace than expected… until he tripped over the leg of a chair that had been pushed out halfway.

CRASH.

Nine cups hit the floor. Juice splattered everywhere.

“Shit—” Seungmin cursed, dropping to his knees to clean up.

“Hyung!” Jeongin was already up and rushing to help.

Felix scrambled behind him. Chan instinctively pushed himself up too, but his injured foot kept him grounded near the table.

You turned your head to check the mess—

And then.

Darkness.

The lights died instantly.

The music stopped.

Every bulb in the entire diner fizzled out in one terrifying blink.

A complete power outage.

Pitch black.

“Everyone stay where you are!” Chan’s voice rang out with that sharp, commanding edge only he had. “Don’t move—if anything happens, shout immediately!”

But before anyone could react—

Rough hands grabbed you.

A palm clamped over your mouth, muffling your instinctive scream. Arms locked tightly around your torso, and you felt yourself being yanked out of your chair, dragged backward through the darkness.

Muffled cries escaped you as you thrashed, kicked, tried anything—but the grip only tightened. You heard distant voices shouting your name, heard your chair fall over, heard Chan yelling over the chaos—

“Y/N?! Y/N!!”

There was another set of hands. Two people.

One held your mouth.

One dragged you.

Chan lunged in the dark.

He reached blindly—grabbing at air, cloth, skin—until finally, he caught something. An arm. Solid. Thick. Buff.

His fingers curled instinctively around it, but in a second, it pulled away.

And you?

Gone.

The blackout lasted fifteen more agonizing minutes.

When the lights finally flickered back on—

You weren’t there.

Your chair was tipped over. Your plate half-eaten. Your silverware on the floor. But no sign of you.

Just like that.

You’d been taken.

Right from under their noses.

And the pit in Chan’s stomach dropped so hard, he could barely breathe.

He clenched his fists, jaw set, trembling not from fear—but from fury.

Because whoever took you… they were strong.

And Chan knew exactly what he felt when he grabbed that arm.

Just like the manly woman the receptionist described.

Just like the theory you had been turning over in your mind.

This wasn’t just a prank or a misunderstanding.

This was planned.

Deliberate.

Dangerous.

And now, they had to find you.

Fast.

————————

Part 6

[wendyyyyyyyy]

OPERATION : Oblivious Idiots

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Part 4 : “PUZZLE PIECES WITHOUT PICTURE”

The weight of the situation pressed on everyone’s shoulders.

Nobody knew what to say anymore.

The room was still thick with the aftershocks of their first realization—Changbin accidentally sent you to the wrong room. But now, this. Two key cards in one slot.

And... their first instinct was to ask you the most obvious question.

“Did you… ask for Chan’s key?”

You felt your whole body go stiff.

“What?”

“Like, at the front desk?” Jisung clarified. “Did you ask for an extra key?”

You felt accused.

Your stomach turned.

Like hell you would.

“Are you guys being serious?” you snapped, narrowing your eyes.

“We’re just—” Jeongin started.

“I didn’t.”

Right?

Your jaw tightened. “I was drunk and wasted, but I wouldn’t do something that reckless.”

Seungmin exhaled sharply. “Okay. Okay.”

Felix rubbed your back, his warmth soothing you. “We get it. You didn’t do it, yeah?”

You nodded stiffly. Although you were seriously hoping in the back of your mind that your drunken self did not actually do something so reckless like that.

“Then where the hell did the key come from?” Changbin muttered, arms crossed.

No answer.

No clue.

A dead end.

But then—

Something clicked in your head.

“I… didn’t have it before the party,” you said suddenly. “Or during. Or even after I puked on Felix.”

They all stared.

“You’re sure?” Chan asked, eyes locked on yours.

You nodded.

“As blurry as my memory is,” you said carefully, “I know I didn’t have it until after that.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Seungmin interrupted, rubbing his temples like his head physically hurt. “If Y/N didn't take the key, and if she didn't have it even then, you’re saying—”

“—that someone else went to the front desk and pretended to know me and asked for it,” Chan finished for him, voice tense. “That’s the only way they could’ve gotten an extra key.”

“Yep.”

“Which means…” Jisung sat up straighter. “They knew your room number, hyung.”

“Exactly,” you said, crossing your arms. “This wasn’t a random drunk accident. This was set up.”

Felix ran a hand through his hair, visibly disturbed. “This feels so fucking weird.”

Chan nodded, his jaw clenched. He was fully in analyzing mode now, eyes sharp, and in deep thought.

“Okay, let’s retrace,” he said. “You said you didn’t have the key before you puked on Felix.”

“Nope.”

“And you were already in the lobby by the time Changbin found you.”

“Yes.”

“So,” he continued, gaze intensifying, “someone must have given you the key while you were sitting there.”

“That’s exactly what happened,” you murmured, closing your eyes, trying to dig deeper.

And then—

A faint memory flickered.

A vague scene.

A hand giving you something.

Another person next to them.

Two people.

A conversation. But muffled.

The memory was too blurry, too foggy, but you knew one thing for sure—

You didn’t take the key on your own.

Someone handed it to you.

You snapped your eyes open.

“I remember,” you said suddenly.

Everyone turned toward you.

⸻

“I don’t remember their faces,” you admitted, “but there were two people. One of them was sitting next to me.”

“Wait, TWO?!” Hyunjin whipped his head around. “So it was a team effort?!”

“Yes,” you confirmed, your voice quieter now. “I was already on the lobby sofa when I took the key from them.”

“That’s fucking suspicious,” Jisung muttered.

Felix patted your back again, his warm touch grounding you. “It’s okay,” he reassured softly. “We’ll figure it out.”

Chan, meanwhile, had his fingers pressed against his mouth, decoding internally again.

Then—

His eyes snapped to Felix.

“Did Felix see Y/N leave when Changbin went up for the shirt?” he asked.

Felix blinked. “Huh?”

“When she puked on you. When Changbin left to get you a new shirt. Did you see Y/N leave?”

Felix froze.

And then—

“Shit.”

“What?” you whipped toward him.

Felix’s face fell.

“I… I don’t remember.”

A pause.

A heavy, sinking pause.

“I was too distracted by the puke,” Felix admitted, voice small. “I was freaking out over my shirt.”

Minho cursed under his breath.

“You mean,” Seungmin deadpanned, “while you were having a breakdown over puke, possibly two people took Y/N away and led her to the lobby, and you DIDN’T NOTICE?”

Felix groaned, hiding his face. “I’M SORRY, OKAY?!”

Chan sighed, running a hand down his face. “It’s not your fault, Lix,” he muttered.

“But this means,” Jisung said slowly, eyes widening, “that those people must have waited for the opportunity to lure her out and they wanted her to get the spare key.”

⸻

Hyunjin slammed his fist on his palm.

“Then let’s check the damn security cameras!”

“Yeah, we can literally see who gave her the key that way,” Minho added.

“Perfect,” Changbin nodded. “Let’s go.”

So you all stormed downstairs, marching to the front desk like a full-blown detective squad, with Chan slowly catching up behind, his flat feet still hurting.

But he was the one who did the talking.

“Hi, we need to check the security footage from last night,” Chan said firmly.

The receptionist blinked.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t release footage unless you have a formal request from law enforcement or hotel security clearance.”

Everyone froze.

“Are you kidding?” Jisung deadpanned.

“Unfortunately not, sir.”

Changbin sighed. “So you’re saying we have to either call the police or convince your manager?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fuck,” Jeongin muttered.

Jisung turned to Chan.

“Hyung, you’re famous. Can’t you just use your leader power—”

“That’s not how it works, Jisung.”

Jisung groaned. “Man, this is such a pain in the ass.”

Then—

“We can still ask about the key,” you reminded them.

⸻

You turned back to the receptionist.

“Fine. If we can’t see the cameras, can we at least know what the person who asked for the spare key look like?”

The receptionist’s eyes flickered with hesitation but answered.

“The person who asked for the key… was a woman.”

“It wasn’t me, right?” You asked, you were sure of it, but you wanted to really make sure.

“Miss, you did not request the key. But, the woman was holding you. You were totally drunk.”

You tensed up. “So, what did she look like?”

“The woman who asked for it looked… oddly built. Buff, almost like a man. And her voice was… deep.”

A shiver crawled down your spine.

A manly woman.

“And I believe her husband was by her side too,” The receptionist recalled.

So, there were indeed two people; possibly a couple.

And both of them definitely knew Chan’s room number.

And one of them handed you the key.

“But, why did you hand them the key? How did they ask for it?” Changbin scratched his neck, still trying to wrap his head around the newfound information.

“The couple showed us a photo they took with Mr. Bang, and since miss Y/N also knows him, we just assumed they were trustable and handed the spare key.”

Everyone gave Chan a concerned look.

“Hyung, do you recall anyone?” Jeongin stared at him.

“I took photos with some STAYs when the show ended but that’s it. I don’t remember taking any photo with anyone after that.” Chan answered back, puzzled.

Before you could ask for more details—

The hotel manager rushed in.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t disclose any more information about our guests,” he said firmly. “This is hotel policy.”

The receptionist shut her mouth, flustered.

And just like that—Another dead end.

This wasn’t drunk mistakes anymore.

This wasn’t coincidence.

This was planned.

Two people—apparently a married couple—wanted you in Chan’s room on purpose.

And you were going to find out who.

——————

Part 5

[wendyyyyyyyy]

OPERATION : Oblivious Idiots

Part 1 Part 2

Part 3 : “HOW THE MYSTERY DEEPENS”

The room was still thick with tension, but at least the screaming had stopped.

Everyone had shifted from full-blown panic to an intense judgmental silence, eyeing both you and Chan with varying degrees of disbelief. The chaos was still hanging in the air, but now, there was something else.

Confusion.

Changbin was the first to break the awkward standstill, sighing deeply like he was already tired of everything happening.

“Okay, listen. Before we all lose our minds over this,” he started, arms crossed, “Here’s a rewind of last night. Jeongin and I personally made sure all three of you—Yongbok, Jisung, and Y/N—got back to your rooms last night before heading to ours.”

Jeongin nodded in agreement. “I dragged Jisung hyung back myself.”

Hyunjin tilted his head, frowning. “Then… how the hell did Y/N end up in Chan hyung’s room?”

That’s when Changbin froze.

Something flickered in his eyes—realization.

He dragged a stressed hand down his face before shutting his eyes, exhaling like he was deeply regretting life choices.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered.

Everyone leaned in, sensing a bombshell incoming.

“When Jeongin was dealing with Jisung, I was stuck with Felix and Y/N,” Changbin sucked in a sharp breath. “And then—Y/N puked on Lix.”

Felix perked up. “Oh yeah! She totally did.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands as the memories rushed back.

“And of course, Lix started whining,” Changbin continued, shooting Felix a look, “and Y/N? She was LAUGHING.”

“Okay, but it was funny.” you protested weakly.

“It was disgusting!” Felix shot back.

“So I had to quickly rush upstairs to get him a fresh shirt,” Changbin said, rolling his eyes. “I came back after five minutes—and Y/N was GONE. Only Felix was there.”

I.N cut in, nodding. “Yep, by the time I came back, Yongbok hyung was with me—but Y/N was missing. So we panicked. Again.”

Hyunjin groaned, rubbing his temples. “You guys are so exhausting. You can’t even stay still for 5 minutes without causing trouble.”

“Yeah? Try dealing with them firsthand,” Changbin shook his head in exasperation.

Jeongin continued, voice flat. “We eventually found her. Knocked out.”

“Where?” Chan asked, finally speaking up.

Changbin exhaled. “At the hotel lobby. Passed out on one of the sofas. Alone.”

Your jaw dropped. “What the hell was I doing in the lobby?!”

“You tell me,” Changbin deadpanned.

“I DON’T KNOW!”

“So, Changbin hyung grabbed Y/N,” I.N said, ignoring your mini breakdown. “I took Yongbok hyung back to his room, and Changbin hyung had to carry Y/N upstairs.”

“But I wasn’t that gone, right?” you asked weakly.

Changbin shot you the most tired look.

“You were half-awake, muttering some bullshit I couldn’t even understand.”

Hyunjin snorted. “Sounds like her.”

“So,” Changbin continued, “I walked her to her room and made sure she got inside.”

Han crossed his arms. “Then, what the hell happened?”

Changbin’s expression suddenly changed. His brows furrowed, like he was replaying the moment in his head.

“You DID send her to her room, right?” Seungmin asked cautiously.

Changbin nodded slowly. “Yeah… I mean, I found her passed out with a key in her hand.”

“…A key?” Chan repeated, eyes narrowing.

“Yeah. She was holding it when we found her in the lobby,” Changbin said, rubbing his temples. “So, I just assumed it was her room key, used it to open the door, shoved her in, and that was it.”

He then suddenly hesitated, “…Only that I didn’t know Y/N was holding Chan hyung’s key and not hers.”

Everyone’s eyes widened.

“But now I know,” Changbin scanned his eyes across the room, “I definitely sent Y/N to this room last night.”

Felix gasped dramatically. “Oh my god.”

Seungmin sighed. “You really sent her to Chan hyung’s room.”

Hyunjin’s jaw dropped. “NO WAY—”

“HOW DID U EVEN SEND HER TO THE WRONG ROOM?!” Minho shouted.

“CHAN HYUNG, YOU DIDN’T EVEN KNOW?!” Jisung questioned frantically.

“BINNIE, WHAT THE HELL—” Hyunjin sighed.

Changbin clutched his head. “How was I supposed to know she was holding Chan hyung’s key?!”

“Yeah, he has a point. WHY WOULD SHE HAVE HIS KEY?” Jeongin asked, confused.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Chan muttered, thinking fast. “I was already asleep. My key was with me. I never gave it to her.”

Minho frowned. “Then where did she get it?”

Everyone’s eyes fell on you.

You felt your stomach drop. “I—I have no idea!”

“Hold on,” Felix said suddenly. “Where’s the key now?”

Everyone turned their heads at the same time—

To the key card slot in the hotel wall.

Two key cards were inserted there.

Not one.

Two.

The room went dead silent.

“…Why are there two keys?” Jeongin asked slowly.

You swallowed.

Chan stared.

“…What the hell is going on?”

⸻

Part 4

[wendyyyyyyyy]

OPERATION : Oblivious Idiots

Part 1

Part 2 : “THE MORNING AFTER CHAOS”

The sheer amount of screaming was enough to shake the entire hotel.

Chan’s voice cracked as he yelped, his hands flying to his head in absolute panic, and you weren’t faring any better—your entire body burned with embarrassment, sheets pulled up so tight around you it was a miracle you didn’t suffocate.

Your eyes darted around the crime scene. Clothes splayed across the room, your bra and underwear in plain sight, Chan’s shirt discarded on the floor. It was bad. It was so bad.

“WHY THE HELL ARE YOU NAKED?!” Chan’s voice shot up an octave, horror written all over his face.

“WHY ARE YOU HALF-NAKED?!” you shot back, feeling heat creep up your entire body at the sheer insanity of this situation.

Chan made a strangled sound, looking down at himself. Shorts still on, thank god. But his bare chest, the fact that he was in bed next to you, and the evidence scattered across the room painted the worst picture imaginable.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, clutching your head as a wave of nausea hit you—from both the hangover and pure humiliation.

Chan squeezed his eyes shut, dragging a hand down his face. “No, no, no, this—this CAN’T be what I think it is. I physically couldn’t—”

“You couldn’t?” you echoed, offended, despite the circumstances.

“I was in pain!” Chan barked, gesturing wildly to his plastered foot before immediately yelping as the movement sent a sharp sting up his leg. He collapsed back onto the bed, groaning.

There was a long, painful silence.

Chan sucked in a sharp breath and forced himself to get up, limping as he gathered your scattered clothes. And yes—your bra and underwear included.

Not looking at you, not saying a damn word, he silently shoved them into your hands, his ears a bright red.

Then, still avoiding your eyes, he grabbed a fresh shirt and shorts from the closet, thrusting them at you like his life depended on it.

“Here. Just—just wear these,” he muttered, running a stressed hand through his messy curls before grabbing his own shirt from the floor and rushing out—limping and all.

The moment the door clicked shut, you collapsed back onto the bed, letting out a silent scream.

This was a nightmare.

⸻

After washing off last night’s shame, changing into Chan’s oversized shirt and shorts, and mentally preparing to make your escape, you opened the door—only to find Chan waiting there.

Fully dressed now.

Holding a hangover drink.

Mirroring your exact level of shame.

His gaze flickered over your figure, his oversized clothes drowning you. His clothes. His brain short-circuited for a second before he cleared his throat and handed you the drink.

“We need to talk.” He walked past you and back into the room.

You followed behind and closed the door again, not trusting yourself to speak, sipping on the drink as if your life depended on it.

Then.

A knock.

You swung the door open and—

Minho and Seungmin.

Eyes darting between you, in Chan’s clothes, and Chan, both looking absolutely mortified.

Too much awkward silence.

Then—realization dawned on their faces.

Seungmin let out an unfazed sigh. “Wow.”

Minho smirked ever so slightly. “Ok.”

You and Chan froze.

“We were about to go eat breakfast. We came to wake you up. You had to take a lot of meds last night, right?” Seungmin broke the ice once more, his eyes boring through Chan's soul.

“Uh, you guys go ahead, I’ll—I’ll come later,” Chan said way too quickly, voice three pitches higher than usual.

Seungmin and Minho exchanged a look.

Then, with a knowing smirk, Minho simply nodded. “Yeah. Sure. Take your time.”

And with that, they turned and left.

Leaving you and Chan alone again.

⸻

“So…” Chan rubbed his face, reverting back to his rational leader mode.

You avoided his gaze.

“Do you remember anything?”

You thought hard. Too hard. But all you got were flashes.

“…I remember Lix and Han having fun,” you said, voice small. “I remember… dialing your number.”

Chan tensed.

Heat crept up your face.

“I… I think I confessed to you,” you mumbled, staring into your drink like it held all the answers to life.

Chan was dead silent.

“I remember Changbin and Jeongin dragging us out. I remember puking on Lix’s shirt. And then…” You swallowed. “Blackout.”

You finally looked up at Chan. “What about you?”

He sighed. “I remember calling Changbin to deal with you guys. Then I fell asleep. That’s it.”

Neither of you were addressing the biggest issue.

Awkward.

Excruciating.

You took a deep breath. “I should check if I’m still a virgin.”

Chan coughed violently, eyes wide with horror.

When he finally managed to compose himself, his ears were on fire.

“I—” he started, but failed. He cleared his throat. “I think—I think—that’s most unlikely.”

He exhaled slowly. “I was already in pain. There’s no way I could’ve…” He trailed off, then made the worst possible assumption.

“…Unless it was you who did all the work.”

You choked on your drink so violently, you nearly spat it out.

Then came a painful silence.

Finally broken by A POUNDING ON THE DOOR.

⸻

THE CHAOS EXPLODED.

“YOU TWO HAD SEX?!”

“CHAN HYUNG, YOU GOT LAID WITH Y/N?!”

“Y/N, WTF? THAT’S YOUR LEADER!”

“WHAT IF Y/N GOT KNOCKED UP?!”

“TELL ME YOU USED PROTECTION!”

“THIS IS GONNA BE A PROBLEM!”

“IMAGINE THE COMPANY FINDS OUT!”

“WE’RE DONE FOR.”

The entire hotel room was now FULLY PACKED with all the members, each one reacting differently.

Jisung, absolutely scandalized.

Felix, confused but fascinated.

Minho, judging. HARD. As if he didn't spill the tea.

Hyunjin and Jeongin, in complete distress.

Changbin, visibly annoyed and surprised at the same time.

Seungmin, witnessing the chaos unfolding after spilling tea to the members.

You? Completely done with life.

Chan? Staring at the ceiling, reevaluating every decision he’s ever made.

Before either of you could process all the levels of chaos happening, Jisung grabbed your hangover drink, downed it in one go, then pointed an accusatory finger at Chan.

“Hyung, explain.”

And just like that, all judgmental eyes were back on you two.

Chan opened his mouth—

Then closed it.

Then opened it again.

Then closed it again.

Neither of you had any answers.

Just two deer caught in the worst Red Lights of their lives.

----------

Part 3

[wendyyyyyyyy]

OPERATION : Oblivious Idiots

➙ This is going to be a short series, main pairing is Chan x 9th member fem! reader, but it's essentially an Ot8 imagine. Every member will be involved.

Synopsis : You have a long-term crush on Chan, and after a wild night of partying, you wake up in Chan’s hotel bed—completely naked—with no clue of how you got there— and with the entire group on edge, and the mystery still out at large unsolved, an investigation begins.

Genre : Romantic Comedy | Mystery | Crackfic | Slow Burn

Warning : Profanity, (Mild) Suggestive themes, Implied nudity, Alcohol consumption, and Guaranteed chaos.

Enjoy!

------------

Part 1 : “What the Hell Happened Last Night?”

The Latin tour had been insane so far. Every city, every performance, every stage had been pure fire. The crowd was loud, the energy was unmatched, and Stray Kids had left everything they had on that stage.

But Bang Chan? He was wrecked.

The moment the show ended and they rushed backstage, Chan could barely walk.

His flat feet had been destroyed after weeks of nonstop performances, but tonight? Tonight was the worst. The pressure had finally burst. It felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to his soles.

The members noticed immediately.

“Hyung, don’t move—”

“Just sit, sit—”

“Where’s the medic? Where’s the fucking medic?!”

Before he knew it, he was being dragged into a wheelchair, rushed to his hotel room, and dumped into bed. The company’s doctors ordered strict bed rest, no movement, and high-dosage medication for the night.

Chan didn’t argue. He was too damn tired.

So he let them shove painkillers into his system, tuck him in, and turn off the lights.

The last thing he remembered was closing his eyes.

⸻

Meanwhile, downstairs in the hotel’s backroom party floor…

You, Felix, and Jisung were out of your minds.

Because the certified troublemakers had somehow managed to sneak in a bottle of—

Not just alcohol.

Not just a casual, celebratory drink.

It was THE alcohol.

Vodka. Over 50% alcohol.

It had been Felix’s idea.

“We just finished our Latin tour show, we have to celebrate!”

“Lix, that’s not celebration, that’s fucking poison—”

But Jisung? Fully onboard.

“I mean… one shot won’t hurt, right?”

Spoiler alert: One shot hurt.

A lot.

You had barely taken one before your brain left the building. Not Seungmin. But your brain.

The world was spinning, your limbs felt weirdly light, and suddenly—your mouth had zero filter.

It was like someone had turned on drunk mode.

Felix was giggling, Jisung was rapping to the song playing, and you?

You were talking absolute nonsense.

And then—

For some stupid, drunk, ridiculous reason—

You called Bang Chan.

⸻

Chan had been half-asleep when his phone started buzzing.

Groggy, confused, still drugged up from the meds, he barely registered your name flashing on the screen before he picked up.

“Hello…?”

Silence.

Then—

“Channieeeeeeeeeeee~”

Chan blinked. Hard.

“Y/N?”

“Channie… I think I love you.”

WHAT.

Chan snapped awake immediately.

“Wait, what?!”

“I love youuuuuuuu~”

His brain malfunctioned.

“Y/N, are you drunk?!”

“Lix gave me The Alcohol. I don’t think I should’ve drank it.”

“WHAT THE HELL IS ‘THE ALCOHOL’?!”

“Shhhh, I’m telling you a secret. You have to listen, okay?”

Chan’s stomach flipped.

Because even though he knew—even though he had suspected for a while—hearing you say it so openly, so carelessly, still made his face warm.

“Channie, I like you so much it hurts.”

FUCK.

He sat up immediately, wincing at the pain in his feet.

“Y/N, where are you? Who’s with you?!”

“Jisung and Lix. We’re dancing downstairs.”

“Are you safe?!”

“Mmm… kinda. Everything’s blurry, but it’s okay because I love you.”

Chan was panicking.

This was not how this was supposed to happen.

You weren’t supposed to confess to him while wasted. You weren’t supposed to be drunk out of your mind in some backroom party floor.

And worst of all—he couldn’t even get out of bed to come get you.

So he called for backup.

⸻

Chan immediately dialed Minho.

He didn’t pick up. He was probably fast asleep.

And so he dialed Changbin next.

The moment Changbin picked up, he barked, “Find Y/N, Jisung, and Felix. NOW. Take another member with you. Don’t do it alone, they might outrun you.”

“What? Why? Where—”

“They’re wasted in the hotel party floor. Drag them out. I can’t move right now.”

Changbin sighed. “Really? At this hour? Morons.”

Jeongin chimed in on Changbin’s phone. “We were discussing about our new song but I guess we’ll go.”

⸻

Next morning, Chan woke up feeling groggy as hell.

His body still ached, his throat was dry, and he could barely remember falling asleep.

But something felt weird.

His bed was warmer than usual.

…And why did the sheets feel so tight around him?

Slowly, nervously, cautiously—he turned his head.

And his soul left his body.

You were asleep next to him.

Face smudged with makeup.

Hair a mess.

Wrapped in his bedsheets.

Completely. Fucking. Naked.

Chan’s eyes widened in horror.

And then—he looked down at himself.

Bare chest. Only his shorts.

His stomach dropped.

“Oh no.”

“OH NO.”

He frantically checked his phone. No messages, no texts, no clues.

His memory?

Blank.

His hands flew to his face.

“No, no, no, no, no—”

This could not be happening.

And then—

You stirred.

Chan froze.

You groaned, rubbing your head. “Ugh… my head…”

Then, you blinked. Looked around the room. Looked at him.

Chan held his breath.

Then—your eyes went wide.

You shifted—and realized.

Chan saw it all click in your brain.

And then—

“AHHHHHHHHHHHH—”

“AHHHHHHHHHHHH—”

You were both screaming.

And neither of you had any clue what the hell happened last night.

------------

Part 2

[wendyyyyyyyy]

“Too Cute to Handle”

Pairing : Kim Seungmin x reader (established relationship)

Synopsis : You were smothering Seungmin with kisses and compliments which earned his usual savage remarks while in fact, he was secretly enjoying them.

Warning : None (Fluff, Affection overload, Savage!Seungmin)

Enjoy!

⸻

Seungmin was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone with his usual uninterested expression, one leg crossed over the other. His hoodie sleeves were pulled over his hands, his fluffy hair slightly tousled from the nap he just woke up from.

And you? You found that extremely adorable.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, stopping mid-step as if you had just witnessed a divine revelation. “Why are you so cute?!”

Seungmin barely spared you a glance. “I’m literally just sitting here.”

“That’s the problem! How are you this effortlessly adorable? Why are you too cute to handle right now?!” You rushed to him, flopping down beside him with wide, sparkling eyes.

Seungmin blinked at you, unimpressed. “You good?”

“No,” you said, already reaching to cup his face. “You’re cute. It’s actually unfair. Look at you, all sleepy and cozy with your puppy eyes.”

His nose scrunched up, and he tried to pull away. “Ugh, get off.”

“Nope.” You had already started your attack. Kisses landed on his cheeks, his forehead, his nose—each one accompanied by a dramatic compliment.

“My handsome Seungmo.” Smooch.

“My favorite singer.” Smooch.

“The light of my life.” Smooch, smooch.

Seungmin exhaled sharply through his nose, closing his eyes as if praying for patience. “You’re so annoying.”

“And you love it.” You grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug.

“Debatable,” he muttered, though the way he smiled ever so slightly or how his arms casually found their way around your waist betrayed him.

You leaned back just enough to admire his face again, your thumbs gently brushing over his pink-tinted cheeks. “Ugh, even when you’re annoyed, you’re so cute. Especially that little smile. It's downright adorable.”

Seungmin stared at you, unblinking. Then, in the driest, most monotone voice, he deadpanned—

“Seek help.”

You burst out laughing, leaning against his chest. “Never. Not when you exist like this.”

Seungmin sighed, but his hold on you tightened just slightly. “Fine. Do whatever you want.”

You won. He’d never admit it, but he secretly loved being smothered by you.

[wendyyyyyyyy]

"Jealous of himself"

Pairing : I.N x fe! reader (established relationship)

Synopsis : You were fangirling over his magazine photoshoot shots only for him to ridiculously get jealous of himself because you were not paying attention to the real him.

Warning : Just pure fluff. No warning at all.

Enjoy!

........

Jeongin was sitting right next to you. Right there.

And yet, you weren’t paying him a single ounce of attention.

No, because in your hands was a magazine—a magazine that contained his latest photoshoot, and you were currently losing your mind over it.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, clutching the magazine dramatically. “Who allowed this?! This should be illegal!”

Jeongin glanced at you, completely confused. “Uh… what should be illegal?”

You ignored him, flipping to the next page. “This entire photoshoot! Are you serious?! How do you even exist looking like this?”

He blinked. “Babe, I’m… literally sitting right next to you?”

You held up the magazine in front of his face. “No, because look at this! Are you seeing what I’m seeing? The jawline? The smirk? The eyebrows? WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT?”

Jeongin scoffed, pulling the magazine down so he could see your face. “I gave me the right? Because, you know, that’s me?”

You ignored him again, flipping to another page. “Oh my god, you’re actually unreal. This belongs in an art museum. No—he belongs in an art museum.”

A beat of silence.

Then Jeongin squinted at you. “…Did you just refer to me as if I’m a different person?”

You waved him off, eyes still glued to the pictures. “Magazine Jeongin just hits different.”

Jeongin let out an incredulous laugh. “I—EXCUSE ME?”

You kept flipping pages, completely entranced. Meanwhile, Jeongin sat there, watching you in absolute disbelief, arms crossed, lips slightly parted like you had just personally offended him.

“I can’t believe this,” he muttered under his breath. “I’m sitting RIGHT HERE, but somehow I’m getting ignored in favor of… me?”

You hummed, barely registering his words. “Ugh, I just love him so much.”

Jeongin gasped. “OH, SO YOU LOVE HIM?”

You finally looked up, blinking at him. “Uh… yeah?”

His jaw dropped. “THE HIM IN THE MAGAZINE?!”

You had to press your lips together to keep from laughing. “I mean… look at him. He’s—”

“Nope.” Jeongin stood up dramatically, shaking his head. “I refuse. I REFUSE to be jealous of MYSELF.”

You finally lost it, bursting into laughter so hard you almost dropped the magazine. “Jeongin, babe, are you seriously mad right now?”

“Yes!” he huffed, crossing his arms. “Because my own girlfriend is simping for a printed version of me while ignoring the real me sitting right next to her! This is actual insanity.”

You wiped away tears from laughing so hard. “Oh, baby, are you pouting right now?”

“I am not pouting.” He was definitely pouting. His cheeks were puffed out slightly, lips pursed, eyes narrowed at you like you had personally betrayed him.

“Aw, my baby’s jealous,” you teased, setting the magazine down and reaching for him.

Jeongin took a step back, dodging your hands. “No. Go cuddle your precious magazine Jeongin.”

You gasped dramatically. “You don’t want my love anymore?”

“I do, but apparently I have competition,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “And the worst part? The competition is ME.”

That sent you into another fit of laughter. “Do you hear how ridiculous you sound?”

He huffed, still acting offended, but you could see the corners of his lips twitching. He was trying so hard not to laugh, but his own jealousy was just too funny to stay mad.

Deciding to push his buttons further, you sighed dreamily. “Honestly… I think I should frame this.” You picked up the magazine again, flipping to your favorite picture of him. “Maybe put it on my nightstand so I can look at him every night before I sleep.”

“Oh, that’s it,” Jeongin groaned, snatching the magazine right out of your hands.

“HEY—”

“You’ve lost magazine privileges,” he announced, holding it above his head where you couldn’t reach.

You whined, trying to grab it back. “Give it back!”

“Nope. You can have me instead.”

You paused, blinking at him. “Wait… so you want me to simp over you in real life?”

He smirked, tucking the magazine under his arm. “Obviously. If you’re gonna drool over me, at least let me see it in person.”

You rolled your eyes, finally giving in and wrapping your arms around his waist. “You’re so dumb.”

“And yet, you love me,” he sang, letting the magazine drop onto the couch so he could pull you closer.

“Unfortunately.”

He gasped. “Unfortunately? Wow. Maybe I should let magazine Jeongin have you then—”

You shut him up with a kiss, effectively wiping the smirk off his face. When you pulled away, he was looking at you, slightly dazed, but with the biggest grin.

“Okay, fine. Real-life Jeongin wins.” you teased, poking his cheek. “Now, go get my magazine.”

“Absolutely not.”

And just like that, your ridiculous boyfriend won the dumbest battle of jealousy in history.

......

Happy belated birthday to our maknae on top 🎂

[wendyyyyyyyy]

"Shaving Cream"

Pairing : Han Jisung x reader

Synopsis : You were shaving his face for him, only that it escalated quick into something straight out of the romance books.

Warning : Kissing, playful remarks but, mostly fluff.

Enjoy!

......

"Hold still," you warned, tilting Jisung's chin up as you carefully glided the razor over his jaw.

He obeyed—for about five seconds. Then, with that mischievous glint in his eyes, he smirked. "You’re really enjoying this, huh?"

You huffed, wiping away a bit of shaving foam from his cheek. "I’m doing you a favor, Han Jisung."

"A favor?" He raised an eyebrow, voice teasing. "Or an excuse to touch my face?"

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Keep talking and I might just ‘accidentally’ nick you."

He chuckled low and fond, but finally let you work in peace. The bathroom was quiet except for the soft rasp of the razor against his skin, the scent of shaving cream lingering in the air. He watched you the whole time—his dark eyes following every little movement, every little expression, like he was completely mesmerized.

You were so focused that you didn’t notice the way his lips curled, or the way he shifted slightly closer.

Then—he struck.

Before you could react, Jisung lunged in, pressing his lips to yours in a surprise kiss. The sudden contact made you squeak, but before you could even think about kissing back—

Splat.

Your cheeks were now covered in shaving foam.

"Han Jisung!" you gasped, pulling back in shock.

He threw his head back laughing, absolutely delighted with himself. "You should’ve seen your face—"

"You’re ridiculous!"

"Yeah, but you love me." He grinned, completely unbothered, and reached out to smear a bit more foam on your nose for good measure.

You glared, but your lips twitched. "...I do."

He hummed, satisfied, before tugging you back toward him. "Good. Now let me kiss you properly this time—"

"Not until you wash your face, dummy."