*ੈ✩‧𝐑𝐄𝐄

‧₊˚✩₊𝐧𝐨 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧˚⊹♡

[lixie-phoria]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ree *ೃ༄ 18+ .ೃ࿐ she/her

ੈ♡˳ requests : open !!

. . . carrd ༊*·˚

❛ ༉‧₊˚ masterlist . . .

. . . rules ˚ ◌༘♡ ⋆｡

༉‧₊˚✧ latest works !!

ongoing SMAU - better than revenge! (soccer player!jeongin x fem!reader)

texting bf!skz that their 🍆 is ugly as a prank

- MDNI w any NSFW post/reblog

©lixie-phoria, 2023

[lixie-phoria]

constantly missing 2020 haikyuu era

[moontidez]

[h4rtwell]

texts with frat!luke castellan

what do you do when he invites you over?

a/n: do we love him or hate him

—

taglist: @love4madii @angelnott @loonylups @sarahlizbeth070 @mrsmaugic @juvicene14 @epitaphangel @imtheraine @sofsoftheater @stinkeeeee @ploopypoop @neanea15 @snivells @shotbyeros @mirrorballz13 @lvlyu @myunperfektstorys @faithslifeee @ibelievelia @nikiesdiaries @x-fanaccount1-x @loveeemay

[lixie-phoria]

Textbook perfect frat boy behavior

[luvlcastellan11]

I need a Luke x Reader fic where he pulls the "marry me and I'll stop the war" move

[lixie-phoria]

I miss writing I want to start again

[gumdrops-stuff]

[luvyeni]

DOORDASH ๑. ( 양정인 )

𝗦𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗘 ──────── who knew desperately texting your roommate that you we’re currently stuck in the bathroom in need of tampons would lead to the cute new neighbor doordashing you some …

( 対 ) yang jeongin + fem. reader genre · smau. fluff. crack. contains! female reader. heavy language. unsavory jokes amongst friends. mature content. / back to library

CHAPTERS !

001. pocket shoes …

002. the girl next door is gonna kill me …

003. goodbye cruel world …

004. what do girls like ???

005. i’ve played these games before!! …

THE END

[lixie-phoria]

I love jeongin

[kangaracha]

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 36

---

pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

previous | masterlist | next

---

Below the stage, a microphone white-knuckled in the grip of your hand, you bounce on your toes and peer up from the bottom of the lift that will eject you onto the stage.

The boys stand to either side of you, an arm's length to Changbin and then Chan on the other side. They've put you in the middle for some reason. You're not even sure who made the decision - the company, or the boys, or the network employees that buzz around you in tense anticipation, their eyes turned more towards their camera angles and the production of their show than the image of your group, the dynamics between each member. 

Set lists flash through your mind at the final countdown, the start of the music - stagings and marks and lights to avoid looking directly into on your way across the stage. You know it all by heart, you promise yourself, despite the flip of your stomach at the thought of all the time and preparation so many people have put into this moment only for it all to rest on the strength of your memory. How many times will you have to do this before you can trust yourself? How many times before the nerves stop climbing up your throat every time you think about stepping out in front of a crowd, worse than they ever have in your life?

At least one more time. And the platform beneath your feet starts to rise.

The lights are blinding up on the stage, the crowd reduced to the pinpricks of lightsticks waving all the way up into the sky, as if you've stepped out into some unmapped galaxy. The music is so loud that the stage shudders under your feet in time to the baseline, but you don't have time to let it take your breath away - as a line, you are supposed to walk, and stand, and sing-

The song slips away from you in the blink of an eye, choruses following the natural flow of the verses, choreography moving your limbs before you even have to think about it. The next track slides by without an issue, and another, and the crowd roar at the opening bars of the fourth, surprising you so much that you almost miss your mark, even though all you are doing is walking from one side of the stage to the other. You wave back to them even though you know the cheer is not for you, and you're sure you see smiles and waving hands in the audience that are looking at you.

By the time you get to Miroh, your troubles have faded away.

The music is infectious without the anxiety to perform attached to it, the heady beat and the energy that drives at you from all the people around you. You're lost in the euphoria of it, your body moving not to a choregraphy that you've engraved on your bones, but along with the crowd instead. You're having fun; so much, that you're not sure you've ever actually had fun singing before. The crowd, the music, the people you share the stage with-

You turn a bar before your part, your microphone lifting to your mouth, and find Chan right behind you, close enough that you walk right into him. 

You steady yourself with the hand that hits his chest, using his solid weight to push yourself back on your heels. In your surprise, your voice falters at the beginning of your part, but his microphone is already there at his mouth, anticipating the stumble, his harmony subtly covering the weakness in your own note.

He finishes it out with you, complimenting but not outstaging. His eyes never leave yours, the joy in them begging for you to see it. You don't know know how he has the breath to sing like that; your chest is too tight to really put the words out, your heart thundering over the music in your ears. The beats stretch like rubber bands, counting down until-

All at once, they snao with the sound of I.N's voice somewhere upstage. Your chest fills and your eyes turn away, caught by something to the side, or maybe just driven by the primal urge to escape. You feel kind of dizzy as you part, lost on stage, your feet wandering a few steps and then stopping to look back at him, crouching on the edge of the stage. You have to force yourself to look away again. You don't know what's gotten into you.

It doesn't matter, you decide on your way to join Seungmin in some obscure corner of the stage. It fits the song anyway, this feeling; bubbles up and spills out into an ear-splitting grin when the beat drops. I ran into this jungle and I'm okay, you sing again, and you find, in that moment, that you really believe it.

It's only when you get off stage, until you sip water and rub at the deep ache in your shoulder and let the music leech from your veins, that you realise how completely and utterly screwed you are. 

---

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids

@hanniemylovelyquokka @tfshouldidohere @lauraliisa @puppysmileseungmin @kalopsian-thoughts

@puppy-minnie @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @acker-night

@d-chagi @lynlyndoll @borahae-reads @ihrtlix @yienmarkk

@minhwa @i2innie @jinnie-ret @conwunder @amesification

@starssongs98 @weirdhumanbeinglol @morinuu @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @bokkiesplace

@amyyscorner @jiisungllvr @skzstaykatsy @blackhairandbangs @jungkookies1002

@hyuuukais @imsiriuslyreal @thatonedemigodfromseoul @gini143 @mercurywritesstuff

@splat00z @filmbypsh @palindrome969 @crabrangoongirl25 @enzos-shit

@jabmastersupriseee @kayleefriedchicken @hynjinswrld @duhgurl @cheshireshiya

@keepswingin

[chahnniesroom]

too close to home

pairing: none (platonic ot8 & female reader)

summary: as the only female of stray kids, you've always felt a little out of place. this comeback, the comments and criticism seem to hit a little too close to home and you start to think that maybe the group is better off without you.

word count: 8.5k

tags/warnings: 9th member au, hurt/comfort, angst, mean fans, anxious thinking, insecurities, overthinking

a/n: this is my first fic for my appreciation event! big thank you to everyone who has supported me and sorry this took so long to post.

special shoutout to @kangaracha who is basically the only reason i was able to finish this fic! she was my biggest cheerleader throughout my writing and if you would like to read an amazing 9th member fic, please please go read queenmaker.

where the heart is collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

You had known from the start that it would be difficult being in a co-ed group. It was rare, especially in K-pop. But being outnumbered eight to one? It was unheard of.

You had been just as surprised all those years ago, when the company had pulled you into a room and offered you a position in the boy group that they were about to debut.

You had heard about the team that Chan had put together, every trainee had gossiped about how JYPE was trying something new with a self-formed team. You hadn't paid too much attention to it, you were busy enough with preparing for your own evaluations and the possibility of being included in what everybody had thought was a boys group hadn't even crossed your mind.

You had accepted the position almost immediately.

At that point, you had been a trainee for almost three years, but had only been considered for debut less than a handful of times. You knew with each line-up that hadn't worked out, you were closer to being forced to give up on the idea of becoming an idol. If you rejected the offer this time, you might not get another and you had been ready to do anything to achieve your dream. 

Plus, you knew there was a high chance that they'd drop you from the group anyway. The position brought a lot of interest to the group, but you knew the company would be watching closely to determine whether it was worth the risk or not. 

It had been a bit of a rocky start, but now the nine of you were close, you had to be when you spent most of your waking time together. You considered the boys to be your second family and you knew that they felt the same way. 

It was just that there was clearly a difference in the dynamic when you were and weren’t with the group. It wasn’t necessarily bad just… different. The boys never excluded you or made you feel like you weren’t part of the group and you had great individual relationships with each of the members. 

It was inevitable though, you had never shared a dorm with the group, especially earlier in your career when you were less familiar and it would have been entirely unacceptable. You knew that this was the main reason you didn’t feel quite as part of the group, there was just a level of closeness that was formed when you actually lived with someone.

Well, it was that and the nagging guilt because you knew that Chan had hand-picked every member of Stray Kids himself.

Every member except you.

While the members had promised that they were the ones who had the final say, you knew it wasn't quite what they had expected. All of you had been desperate to debut though and even if it wasn't ideal, nobody was going to say anything that might jeopardize this chance.

Still, you could tell that the boys did their best to include you and for the most part, they succeeded. Even early on when things had been a little bit awkward between you, they were fiercely protective. In interviews, they insisted over and over that they wanted you in the group and it had been nice to hear, even if you knew they were just saying it for the cameras. 

They frequently invited you over for dinner or just to hang out, but you couldn't help feeling jealous when it was time for you to leave at the end of each night. It wasn't anything you could change though, so you just tried to appreciate their company while you had it.

So when the company brings up the idea of new dorm arrangements, you're surprised and a bit confused when they don't immediately inform you of where you'll be staying and kick you out of the meeting room. You've never participated in the discussions that the boys have regarding roommates, there has never been any reason to. 

You're shocked by how easily things fall into place, even more so when Chan approaches you, asking if you'd feel comfortable living with him and Jeongin. They assure you that any of the pairings would be happy to have you stay with them though, and that they'd also understand if you preferred to live on your own.

You were hesitant at first. It had been out of the question when you had first debuted. Even if you and the boys had been comfortable with it, which you weren’t, the company would have totally rejected the idea of one girl living with eight boys.

Instead, their solution had been to force you to remain in the trainee dorm even after your debut which meant constantly listening to jealous girls criticize anything and everything about you. It had been exhausting, partly because you were getting used to balancing schedules with practice, but also because you couldn’t find it in yourself to be mad at them. You were all too familiar with the disappointment and frustration that came with watching the people around you succeeding.

You had briefly considered asking about sharing with the boys when the dorms had split in half because you knew you needed to get out of the toxic environment the other girls were creating, but then the company had offered you an apartment to yourself. It had been one of the easiest decisions you had ever made. 

It had been too good to be true, though. The apartment had given you the privacy that you had craved, there were a multitude of issues that almost made you miss being in the trainee dorms. Whether you moved to a new apartment on your own or into one of the dorms with the boys, you knew that it would be an improvement.

You’re curious what living with the boys would be like and honestly, you’re a bit lonely in your current apartment. It only takes a day or two of thinking before you confirm that you’d like to join them.

The moving process is quick too, at least for you. The boys offered to help you move, but you adamantly refused. Your place had been so tiny that you didn't have the space to store many things and you didn't like shopping that much anyway so all of your clothes fit into the couple of large suitcases that you kept under your bed. Since most of the furniture had come with the room, you were able to bring everything over to the new dorm before the boys had even finished packing.

It's hard to settle in at first. You don't have any siblings and have never had to live with boys so it takes some getting used to. Luckily both Chan and Jeongin are quite careful about being respectful of your space. 

It's also a relief that you get to divide up some of the housework that you used to have to do all on your own. Even though it's not too much, it's nice to have more time in your day for other things and the three of you have developed a system that works well and feels natural.

Chan is meticulously clean and although you don't think you're that messy, you’re more careful to keep things in the right place. The worst part is that you know Chan won't complain or nag you if you leave your things around, he just quietly cleans up your messes which makes you feel both touched and a bit guilty.

You have no regrets about moving in with them, especially when you start to get more busy. It's nice to be living with people who have the same or similar schedules to you so you don't have to worry about losing track of time and being late to things. 

Not only that, but you feel like you have more support. Jeongin reminds you to eat regular meals and Chan checks in when he notices that you're up later than usual. The three of you chat more than you did before and now have a number of different inside jokes.

You're especially grateful because you can already sense that this comeback is going to be hard on you. It's not the songs that have you concerned, all the recording finished smoothly and you're more than happy with how your parts turned out. You also really like the concept that's being proposed for the cover art and all the music videos.

It's the dance that's the problem.

As a trainee, you had always excelled in dancing and had actually had been assigned the role of main dancer in some of the girl groups that you were considered for. It made it especially hard to come to terms with the fact that when you had joined Stray Kids, you weren't even included in the dance line. You knew that your singing was nice and your voice added diversity to the group, but it had never been what you were most confident in and you felt inadequate compared to Seungmin and Jeongin.

But when it comes to this title track, it's especially obvious why you're not considered as one of the lead dancers. By lunchtime, everyone has memorized the moves, you included, but the choreography is definitely more suited for male dancers. No matter how much you focus on trying to match the style of everyone else, you're sticking out like a sore thumb. 

Most of the members take a short break for lunch, but you're determined to keep practicing and Minho is willing to coach you through the parts that you're struggling with the most. On a technical level, you're hitting most of the moves, but you still haven't been able to do a runthrough that doesn't elicit at least a few corrections. You can tell that Minho is running out of patience and you're even more frustrated than he is.

Luckily the rest of practice is working on the different formations and angles for filming the music video, dance practice, and future performances. The details are less important and everyone is mainly focused on not crashing into each other.

You try to sneak in as many solo practice sessions as you can, but by the time filming for the dance practice rolls around, you’re still not feeling confident. In fact, you’ve been dreading the schedule for days and you feel a little queasy every time you think about it. It's far from your first dance practice filming, but something about this one just feels more daunting.

The morning of filming, you force yourself to eat a decent breakfast, knowing that skipping it would just make dancing more difficult for yourself. Chan had woken up early to prepare a simple meal while you and Jeongin had helped set the table and clean up afterwards. You're a bit more jittery than usual and you're pretty sure both of the boys have noticed, but they don't comment which you appreciate.

Everyone goes through hair and makeup fairly quickly, there's no elaborate outfits and crazy makeup for a more casual video like this. Your bad feeling for today just worsens when you see that while the rest of the boys are in their usual loose fitting sweats and shirts, you've been given a tight fitting outfit that reveals a bit more of your midriff than you usually like to show off. Even though you can't deny that it's a flattering look, it just makes you self conscious, feeling like you stood out even more than you usually did standing beside the guys.

Determined to power through filming, you warm up as quickly as you can so that you can spend as much time as possible reviewing the moves with the rest of the boys before the crew finishes setting up.

Your stomach is a flurry of butterflies as you get in position to start filming, even though you know that usually the first try is a throwaway. Not only is this the first time filming for the day, but the group hasn't actually done a performance of your new single, only practices.

You monitor the recording carefully. There's a few things to improve with the camera angles and position, that was to be expected, but you still have the nagging feeling that something about your dancing doesn't match the rest of the group.

You try to make your movements bigger in the next run through, while still looking natural and staying in time with the music. It's not quite right though and each time you try again, there's more and more things that you're unhappy with.

You can tell the rest of the group isn't pleased with how things are going either. You've been doing this long enough that these dance practices usually only take a couple hours to record, but now it's been at least three and none of the takes have even been considered as a keeper. A few times you haven't even been able to make it to the end of the song before someone messes up.

Your choreographer is in the back of the room and although he hasn't explicitly called you out, you can feel his gaze on you the longer this takes. 

“Come on guys,” Minho complains after a short break. “Focus! Let's get it done this time.” You watch as his eyes flicker towards where you're standing for the faintest of moments as he says it. It feels like a blow to the stomach.

You hate disappointing people, you're only human after all, but something feels even worse when you know it's the other members that you're letting down. Especially when it comes to dance, because you've always wanted to impress Minho and his notoriously high standards. The guilt sits heavy in your stomach as you push through your growing fatigue and take your position in front of the camera again.

As soon as both the director and choreographer announce that you're finished for the day, almost everybody collapses on the spot. One-takes are always the most exhausting and everybody has to focus on keeping their movements sharp because it's extremely obvious when you aren't in sync.

You, on the other hand, make your way to the screens where they're showing the playback. Sweat is dripping from your neck and forehead and you absent-mindedly swipe it away as you watch. Someone drapes a small towel over your head and you look over to see that Minho and Hyunjin have crowded behind you to take a look.

“It's good,” one of the managers comments.

Instead of agreeing, Minho hums noncommittally. You feel yourself tense up.

“What?” the manager asks. “Don't tell me you want to do it again.”

“No, no, it's fine.” Minho says mildly. 

“We can do another take,” the director offers. From behind him, one of the camera people groans quietly. You try not to wince at the sound and only partially succeed.

“I think this is the best we're going to get,” Minho replies, before he turns and walks back to where his things are, effectively ending the discussion.

“Sorry for making everyone stay late,” you say quietly, bowing quickly before trailing after Minho. Hyunjin eyes you weirdly as he keeps pace.

“Why'd you say that?” he asks as he packs his bag.

“I felt bad that they had to stay so long,” you say, confused. “We normally tell them that if filming goes over.”

“No.” Hyunjin pauses his movement to study you. You can't help but shrink away, feeling a bit like a bug under a microscope “We normally thank them for their hard work. You made it sound like it was your fault.”

“It's just been a long morning,” you deflect. “Are you heading back to the dorms now?”

“Yeah.” He runs a hand through his wet hair, flicking sweat everywhere. “Have to shower and I have a bit of time before my vocal lesson. Want to head back together?”

“You go ahead first,” you reassure him. “I have a couple things left to do at the company so I'll stick around for a bit longer.”

“Sure. If you're finished early, feel free to drop by. We can have dinner or something together,” Hyunjin offers.

“Sounds good! I don't know if I'll have time, but I'll definitely see I can join,” you promise.

Lying always leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, but you know there's no way you're going to sacrifice time that you could be using to improve the dance just to hang out.

You stay late in the studio that night. Your only other schedule for the day is fittings for the music video and all the music shows, which finishes pretty quickly. Since you don't have much of an appetite anyway, you choose to skip Hyunjin’s dinner offer to continue practicing more. You had asked one of the managers to send you a copy of the dance practice and each time you replay it, the pit in your stomach seems to grow.

You lose track of time, picking apart each and every move to try and figure out what you're doing wrong. It's not until Minho knocks on the door and enters, startling you in the middle of yet another runthrough, that you realise how long you've been practicing.

“You still have so much energy?” Minho calls out as he walks closer to you.

“Just had a few things I wanted to fix up before I went home,” you explain in between breaths. 

“And?”

“And what?” you ask.

“Did you fix them?” he replies, raising an eyebrow as he scans your sweaty form and the empty room. “Have you been practicing this whole time? You've been here so long that even Channie-hyung went home. He asked me if you were at our place.”

“What? I-”

“It's almost 2am,” he says gently. “It's time to go home.”

“Can I do one more run through?” you ask sheepishly. “Actually, it’s good that you’re here, I just want to make sure-”

“You've been practicing long enough.” Minho's voice turns stern and he grabs your hand to lead you to the couch to sit. “Did you even eat?”

“I wasn't hungry,” you say quietly.

“Y/n-ah,” Minho scolds you. “You need to fuel your body if you're going to work it so hard, you know we've talked about this.”

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to practice more,” you say, staring down at your hands. You’re not allowed to pick at your nails since you just got them done, so you settle for fidgeting with one of the rings that you’re wearing. The sharp edges of the gemstones prick at your fingers but you can’t get yourself to stop. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I just couldn’t get the dance right today. We had to film it so many times.”

“What are you talking about, Y/n-ah?” Minho asks, bewildered. “We weren’t- you weren’t the reason we had to redo the dance so many times.”

You look up at him finally and don’t see any of the annoyance that you were expecting. The concern and genuine confusion that you find instead catches you off guard.

“What? But- On our fourth take during the second chorus, my legwork was so sloppy compared-”

“Hannie literally forgot which direction we were supposed to move and he almost knocked into me,” Minho interrupts. “There was no way we were going to be able to use the footage, that’s why we stopped early.”

“Oh, I didn’t notice.”

Minho taps a finger to his lips, deep in thought.

“Fifth take, well that was my fault, so we're not going to talk about that. Sixth try, Yongbokkie and Innie both missed a cue and crouched later than everybody else, that one made me want to pull out my hair.” He shakes his head.

“That’s when we took a break,” you realise.

“Yeah, we were hoping it would help us have a clean run. Jinnie had sweated through his makeup and needed touch-ups anyway.”

“I thought you guys were annoyed at me,” you say in a small voice. “You didn't seem happy with the final video.”

“It wasn't my best take,” Minho admits. “I kind of wanted to do it again, but I didn't want you guys to have to stay even later.”

“Did you even see yourself?” You reach for your phone and unlock it to show the paused dance practice video. “Look, I've been trying to copy how fluid you moved in this part. See there? I looked so stiff compared to you, it's awful.”

“Y/n-ah,” Minho says carefully. 

“And look at this move,” you say, skipping ahead a couple seconds. “I couldn't quite-”

You cut yourself off mid-sentence when Minho leans forward to pluck your phone our of your hands and throw it off to the side. You don't even fight him, just stare with wide eyes, scared of what he's going to say next. 

“You were fine, you did well. But even if you did mess up, it's okay. This dance is tiring, it's challenging. We all have bad days and it's okay to make mistakes.”

When you don’t say anything in response, he slowly moves closer and envelops you in a tight hug. You sniffle a little bit and when he starts to rub slow but firm circles onto your back, you can't stop the few tears that escape.

“Hey, what's going through your mind, huh?” he asks in a low voice. “Why are you being so hard on yourself?”

“I just don't want to let you guys down,” you say.

“Y/n-ah, you're not letting us down if we have to do a few more takes on a dance practice,” Minho says incredulously. “Is that all that's been worrying you?”

“Yeah,” you lie. “I was just nervous about filming the dance and disappointed when it didn't go like I wanted it to.”

“Silly girl,” Minho says, ruffling your hair affectionately. “You're doing just fine. It's okay to be nervous, but you don't have to be pushing yourself so hard. Come on, it's time to go home, we have an early schedule tomorrow.”

You follow him meekly as he leads you out of the building and to where a driver is waiting to take you back to your dorm. Even though you feel a bit better knowing that you weren't the cause of the schedule overruns, you're still not satisfied with how you're dancing, but you know that it's pointless to pick a fight. Not only is Minho just as stubborn as you, he's not afraid to bring in reinforcements and you'd hate for the rest of the group to catch on to how you've been spending most of your free time. They already have enough to worry about, the last thing you want is to add to that.

Moving forward, you don't stop practicing, but you do take more care to try and pretend that it's not eating up all your free time. You stop using your favourite studio, you know the dance so well that most of the time you don't even have music playing, and you make sure not to stay out late enough that it's noticeable.

You start to feel a little silly with how much time you've devoted to this, significantly more than the rest of the members, especially when the music video filming goes by without a hitch. By the time the Studio Choom video is filmed, you're a lot more confident about the performance and even starting to enjoy yourself.

The rest of the preparations for the comeback start to fly by, especially after the album announcement goes live. There's not a day that goes by that's not filled with different photoshoots or interviews.

Before you know it, the album is released and even though your schedule is absolutely packed, you spend all your free time reading through comments and reactions. Maybe it was cliche to say, but you really did treasure hearing from Stays and comebacks were always when you felt closest to them.  You especially liked being able to interact with them on a more personal level.

You were almost certain that you were the most active member on Bubble, you liked to send daily updates on what you were doing and reminders to Stay about maintaining their health. It did sting that you were also pretty certain that you had the least subscriptions and likely some of them only stuck around because you thought it was funny to send candid photos of the boys every so often.

You had always looked forward to fan signs the most though. Before you had debuted, you had loved seeing footage of the cute accessories, silly pick-up lines, and heartfelt messages from the fans. Not only that, but it was the only chance to speak to fans in person, even if it was only for a minute or two.

You were immensely grateful for everyone that supported you, but maybe it was your eager anticipation for fan signs that left you feeling so disappointed and empty. You had slowly grown used to Stays ignoring you for the boys, for always being the one that didn't receive any gifts to play with, for having the smallest stack of letters at the end of each event. But somehow you were always hopeful that the next time would be different.

Of course, it wasn't like you resented everybody else in the group. In fact, you were genuinely glad that they were enjoying themselves because they deserved it. They worked hard, were amazing performers and talented at creating music, and as a result, the fans loved them.

You, on the other hand, were just missing something, and it seemed that nothing you could do would change that. You had bounced through different positions, focused on vocals, dance, rap, music production, writing lyrics, and had enjoyed yourself thoroughly the whole time. If only the fans had liked it as much as you.

At least with fan calls, it wasn't as blatantly obvious that you were the least popular, least favourite member of the group. In fact, sometimes you were glad because you knew the boys often had crazy fans who had absurd or cringy requests while most of the time you spoke with someone who was politely feigning their interest.

It's almost funnier when the company sits you all down in the same room for the calls like they do today because you get to witness and subsequently tease the boys for the aegyo and silly poses they're forced to do. It's not like any of you can refuse anything the fans ask you to do, not with the staff breathing down your neck the whole time.

As expected, most of your calls are fairly generic and you're grateful for it. You have easy conversations about the album, which dances are your favourite, and you get to share some stories from the tour that you recently finished. You're maybe halfway through the calls when things start to take a turn for the worst.

“I even think that you would have done great as a solo artist! Are you thinking of releasing any solo music soon?” the girl that you're talking to asks excitedly.

“Oh, thank you.” You smile back even though the innocent question makes your chest ache for some reason. “I- well, solo music-” You take a deep breath to gather your thoughts. “I don't know about the future, but right now I really can't imagine releasing anything other than music as a part of Stray Kids. I love working and performing with the rest of the members and I wouldn't want to change anything.”

It's how you actually feel, but you can't help the way that your eyes dart over to check on the staff member that's supervising your call. You feel a bit better when you see their nod of approval and try to focus on the fan to finish the rest of the conversation.

Thankfully you get a quick break before the next call. You know the fan was probably trying to be encouraging, she had started off the call praising your skills and was probably just curious. Still, there's a voice in your mind that tells you that she'd prefer it if you weren't a member of Stray Kids. Or rather, she'd prefer that Stray Kids didn't have you in it.

You try to bring a positive mindset into your next call, but it's with a Stay that’s decidedly less interested in talking to you. You exchange greetings and make small talk until she seems to get an idea that makes her sit up straight all of a sudden.

“I have a question for you,” she says, eyes glinting in a way that makes you a little nervous, even though you're not sure why.

“Go ahead,” you encourage her because you're mostly feeling a bit relieved that she's finally showing some emotion other than boredom.

“Which of the boys would you say is best in bed?” she asks slyly.

You stare at her dumbly, thinking that you must have misheard her.

“Sorry,” you say, laughing uncomfortably. “I don't- I don't think I understand your question.”

“You heard me,” she scoffs. “What's the point in having you in the group if you're not sleeping with at least some, if not all of them?”

“No, I- It's not like that, I don't-” Flustered, you stare desperately at the staff, hoping they'll step in and end the call. Instead they just motion for you to continue. “I mean, we're close, but not-”

“If you want, you can just tell me your favourites,” she giggles, as if she's just asked you what songs on the album you liked. “It must be either Chan or Jeongin, if you decided to live with them.”

“No!” you exclaim.

“So it's not either of them?” she says, tapping a finger against her lip in thought.

“That's not the kind of relationship we have.”

Mortified, you find that you're tearing up a bit. You've heard the theories before, know that there's a lot of gossip and rumours because you're in a group of men, but you've never been outright accused to your face like this.

From the corner of your blurry field of vision, you see Seungmin wave bye to whoever he's talking to. He must hear the distress in your voice because he glances over, then does a double-take when he sees just how bad you're doing.

“What's going on?” he demands, stalking over. Before the staff can do anything to stop him, he leans forward and disconnects the call without a warning. “Why didn't you do anything, isn't it obvious that something’s wrong?”

“Y/n-ssi was handling it,” the staff member says. “It’s not fair to the fans if you cut a call short without reason.”

“No reason? Do you have eyes?!” Seungmin motions to where you're surreptitiously trying to blot away the tears without smudging your makeup. He's gotten the attention of everyone in the room now, even the members who are still in calls and have to pretend nothing is happening in the background. You can only hope that the phones aren't able to pick up anything being said.

“Min,” you say, voice barely above a whisper as you tug on his sleeve lightly. He glances back at you, eyes softening slightly. “It's okay, I'm fine.”

You're grateful that he's stood up for you, but all the scrutiny is getting a bit overwhelming. You just want to move on and pretend nothing happened because the last thing that you want is for the company to think you're a liability who can't even handle a nosy fan.

Seungmin crouches in front of you and studies you carefully. You're still clutching onto the sleeve of his sweater. You take a deep breath to compose yourself, then give him a watery smile.

“I was just being really sensitive today, I promise,” you plead. “Just let it go.”

He starts to say something, then cuts himself off, eyes watching something happening over your shoulder.

“Let's just take a quick break from the calls,” Chan says evenly. You didn't even notice that he came up being you and is standing behind you protectively. “We'll be back in 10 minutes.”

It's a command, not a suggestion, something that the staff would normally push back against, but for some reason they stay quiet, allowing the nine of you to filter out of the room unimpeded.

Nobody says anything until you find an unoccupied dance studio. Minho is quick to lock the door after you all pile in.

“Hey,” Seungmin says softly from where he's been stuck to your side. “You holding up okay?”

“Yeah, I don't know what happened. I'm fine now,” you say.

“Are you sure?” Felix asks from where he's sitting on your other side.

“Really, it was nothing,” you assure him.

“If you were upset, then it's something,” Seungmin insists. “We promise we won't think it's silly or anything. It's probably something we've all heard before anyway.”

You have to turn away from the way that he's looking at you with his huge, pleading eyes. But the rest of the group is also gathered around, concern lining their faces.

“She implied that the only reason I'm in the group is because I'm sleeping with all you,” you say stiffly, regretting it immediately when you feel both Seungmin and Felix freeze in place. “Which obviously is not true, so it's not a big deal.”

“Y/n, you know that's unacceptable, right?” Chan says slowly, through what sounds like gritted teeth. You finally tear your eyes away from where you've been staring at the patterns that you can see in the grain of the wooden flooring, to see that his jaw is clenched, neck muscles pulled tight. 

“Fans say inappropriate things all the time, it's not like I haven't read things like that before. It comes with the job.” You shrug.

“That doesn't make it okay. This is serious. You shouldn't have to-” Chan cuts himself off when he notices that he's started to raise his voice and just pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Listen, I know. I just- I don't want this to be a big commotion. It sucks, I didn't respond well, whatever, let's move on,” you say. “She's going to post about it online, but in a few days, nobody is going to remember anyway.”

“Hyung, can't we just end the call if they do anything inappropriate?” Changbin complains.

“You know that we can't,” you remind him before anybody else can say anything. “It's part of our contract.”

“I hate these stupid fan calls!” Hyunjin passionately declares from where he's sprawled out on the floor. “Channie-hyung, can we just cancel the rest of them?”

“Don't say that,” you scold him mildly. “You love fan calls the most out of all of us.”

“I love some of them,” he argues back. “But not if that's the way you're going to be treated during them. Plus, if another person asks me to call them mommy then I'm actually going to quit being an idol.”

“Ew, your fans are weird.” Jisung wrinkles his nose in disgust.

“They're your fans too!” Hyunjin shoots back.

“Okay,” Chan claps his hands together a couple times before things devolve further. “Unfortunately, we do have to continue with the rest of the calls and we can't delay things too much. It's time to head back.”

There's a bit of casual chatter as everybody heads back, but you can tell everyone is still feeling a bit tense. Seungmin only releases your hand when he absolutely has to and you squeeze a couple times before you let go to try and reassure him that you're going to be fine.

The second you sit down, a makeup artist descends on you, tutting her tongue when she sees that you've accidentally wiped away some of your eyeshadow. You obediently stay still, watching as Chan approaches your table too, stopping to lean down and say something in the ear of the staff member that has been monitoring you. The blood slowly drains from her face and she nods rapidly in agreement with whatever he tells her. He claps a hand on her shoulder and even though it's a light and friendly gesture, you can see the way she flinches slightly.

You raise an eyebrow when he looks your way and he just smiles innocently in return and makes his way back to his seat. You don't comment, not even when you notice that the staff's fingers are trembling so hard that it takes her a couple tries to connect you to the next call. You know that it's not her fault, she's just following instructions from the company after all, but you're not feeling very sympathetic at the moment.

Instead, you just try to focus and take on an upbeat persona in the hopes that nobody realises how upset you truly feel. You're hurt and a bit wary of what the fans might do next, but you don't want to take it out on the people who haven’t done anything to you yet.

Fortunately, the rest of the calls are rather uneventful and you leave the company feeling drained, but not as terrible as you had expected.

You spend the rest of the day thinking about what you could have done differently, how you could have handled the call more gracefully, what kind of answer you should give if something similar ever happens again. But no matter what, you just get stuck pitifully thinking to yourself that it's not fair, you shouldn't have to deal with these kinds of questions in the first case. You're sure the company will give you a briefing and some scripted lines tomorrow anyway, so it's probably for the best that you just try to pretend nothing happened at all.

That evening, you try your best to avoid social media, but you knew that some of the other boys had seen videos based on the stormy expression on Jeongin's usually smiley face when you got home and the way that Chan comes back from the gym with more bruises than usual from his boxing session with Minho and Changbin.

They never say anything, but they have been extra careful around you. Chan has brought home your favourite takeout without you asking and Jeongin jumps up to clean up the second that everyone has finished eating. After you decline to watch a drama with them, you can hear one of them pacing past your bedroom every few minutes, pausing right outside your door before continuing on.

You have just decided to muster up the courage to actually watch the recording of the video, it was embarrassingly easy to find one, when Seungmin video calls you. You immediately click away from where your own stupid looking shocked face is paused on screen to answer because you know Seungmin knows that you prefer to text unless it's an emergency.

“Hey,” you greet him warily. “What's up?”

“Felix is trying to kill me,” Seungmin complains.

“What now?”

“Just look!”

Seungmin changes to his back camera to reveal their kitchen, which is littered with baking supplies and seems almost hazy for some reason.

“Is that smoke?” you ask, sitting up in bed.

“I said not to film!” Felix's voice comes from somewhere outside of the frame. Seungmin pans over dizzyingly fast to show where he's crouched in front of the oven, streaks of flour smudged on his clothes and in his hair.

“I'm not filming,” Seungmin comments, unbothered by the fact that Felix is pulling out a pan of what looks like they should be cookies but look alarmingly similar to lumps of coal. “I'm on a call. Show Y/nnie what you made,” he prompts.

“What?? Noooo,” Felix whines. “Y/n don't look!”

“What are those supposed to be?” you laugh.

“I wanted to make something to cheer you up,” Felix says miserably. Seungmin cackles, moving the camera closer so that you first get a close-up of Felix's face, then a better look at the burnt baking sheet. You keel over, stomach starting to hurt from how hard you're laughing. “I was trying to clean up while they baked and didn't hear the timer go off.”

“Well I appreciate the thought,” you say, when you can finally catch a breath. “And you definitely succeeded in making me feel better. Didn't the fire alarm go off?”

“We just got it to stop,” Seungmin says, switching the camera so that you can see his face again. “It's freezing in here now, we had to open all the windows to air out the place.”

“You poor things,” you coo, leaning back onto your bed now that you aren't concerned that they're in immediate danger. “Do you want to come over to our place?”

“I want to, but someone has to make sure that sunshine over here doesn't burn anything else.” Seungmin rolls his eyes, making you laugh again. You hear Felix yell something in the background. “I just wanted a witness in case I don't make it to our schedule tomorrow. I think I gotta go.”

“Yeah, I think you'll be busy cleaning up the rest of the night. See you tomorrow!”

You end the call, plunging your room back into darkness. You lie on your bed for a few moments before unlocking your phone again.

Even though you knew that it wasn't wise, like clockwork you found yourself scrolling through social media after every comeback. It used to be worse, when you had been living alone and would spend countless hours curled up on your tiny bed, face only illuminated by your phone. 

The rest of the members all know that you had private social media accounts, they all had them too even though you technically weren't allowed to. What they didn't know was how many nights you had wasted away, watching funny compilations, reaction videos, and analysis of performances. Sometimes, it even felt like you were subconsciously searching for the negative comments, wanting to understand better the mindset of the haters.

It was an old, but bad habit, so you had tried your best to stop once you moved in with Chan and Jeongin. But tonight you just couldn't sleep. After wandering into the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water, you end up getting distracted by your Youtube recommendations.

You don't know what kind of strings the company pulled, but by some miracle, there's no clips of your disastrous fan call circulating any more, although there were still a lot of people talking about it.

There had been mixed comments. Some of the clips had excluded the terrible questions and people commented on how bad your media training must have been, but a majority of people were furious on your behalf and complained about how out of bounds the comment had been. 

You should be relieved that the videos have been taken down and you are to a certain extent, but just a couple days ago the dance practice that haunted you had been posted. Just one more thing to worry about. As you feared, while a majority of the comments were nice, there's already people picking apart your performance, comparing you to the boys. 

You click from one comment to another, then move onto fan made videos, inevitably falling down a rabbit hole of the many edits that exist where you had been cropped out or digitally removed. It was almost mesmerizing, watching videos of how well the group worked without you, how natural it looked to see what it would have looked like if it was just the eight of them. Some nights, you could almost forget that the edits were exactly that, edits and not the reality.

“Hey,” Chan interrupts. He is obviously trying his best not to scare you, but you were startled anyway, dropping your phone on the counter. “What are you up to so late?”

“It's nothing,” you said quickly, fumbling to lock your phone so that he can’t see the video that’s playing, but Chan had scooped it up before you had the chance to pick it back up.

“What's this-” You could see the moment that he pieced things together, the way that even in the dim lighting you could tell how his brow had furrowed and his hand had tightened around your phone. “How come you're not in these videos?”

“Hm?”

“You were definitely in this performance,” Chan says, studying the paused screen. “You're supposed to be… They removed you.” He finally realises with horror. “Why are you watching garbage like this?”

“I just want to know what Stay are thinking.” You shrug. “I saw this video and couldn't help but watch. It’s not a big deal, I was just curious.”

“They're not Stay if they're not supporting the whole group!” Chan startles you with the sharpness of his voice. He catches sight of your wide eyes and softens his tone. “Sorry, I just hate akgaes and seeing these kind of posts.”

“Oh come on,” you say. “You're telling me that you've never thought about what the group would be like if you weren't being dragged down by me?”

“Dragged down- Y/n-”

“Don't lie to me, oppa. I know you've seen what people are saying about the group, about me. Have you seen some of these edits? Stray Kids looks good as eight,” you admit.

“I’m not lying! None of us would want to be making music or performing without you,” Chan insists.

“You don't have to say that just to not make me feel bad.” You shake your head.

“We’ve been together from the start, why would I have chosen you to be a part of Stray Kids if I didn't actually want you to be on the team?” Chan asks, sounding frustrated, but also genuinely curious.

“Because the company added me to the team at the last minute?” you say, as if it's obvious. Because to you, and basically everybody else, it is. “I know I wasn't part of the group that you picked. It's okay-”

“What are you talking about? You know that I chose you too, right?” he asks slowly. 

“But the company-”

“They couldn’t have just added you to the group without our say.”

“No, I know that you guys agreed it to, but-”

“Y/n-ah, we didn't just agree to it. They told me they wanted us to consider adding a female member to Stray Kids. We thought about it and said yes. I was the one who wanted that member to be you.”

You stare at him, dumbfounded. 

“What?”

“Why are you so surprised? I saw your evaluations, you were one of trainees strongest in dance, probably the only one that could keep up with us, your singing has always been stable, and I know that based on your personality and work ethic, you would get along well with the rest of us. It was the obvious choice.”

“Oh.” Is all you can say, mind racing.

“You really thought the company just added your name onto the roster and we went along with it?”

“I don't know, I guess so?” you say sheepishly. “I was just so grateful to debut, it didn't matter at the time. It felt so out of the blue.”

“You know that one of the reasons that JYP didn't have you on that many of the girl group line-ups was because he was considering making you a solo artist, right?”

“Huh? There's no way,” you immediately deny. “Nobody ever mentioned that-”

“He told me when I brought up your name to add to the group. I guess they never wanted to get your hopes up.”

“I thought they were going to drop me soon,” you admit, scratching at the back of your neck. “I uh, I thought maybe I would do at most one more year of training and then move back in with my family. I had even started filling out university applications to keep my options open.”

“Y/n, you were consistently having amazing evaluations, you were being praised so much by everyone. Why would you doubt yourself?”

“Three years as a trainee and nothing to show for it. You know what it was like, how hard it was to see people come and go. It didn't matter how great my evaluations were if I never got to debut.”

“But-”

“Don't tell me that you never thought about quitting. Oppa, I thought that you of all people would understand what it was like.” You hate the way that your voice cracks.

“I thought about it all the time,” Chan says. “Sorry, I didn't mean it like that.”

“It's fine,” you mumble.

“Y/n-ah,” Chan asks tentatively, like he's afraid to learn the answer. “All these years that we've been together, did you really think we didn't want you?”

“Yes? Well, not really. I didn't think you guys disliked having me in the group per se, I just always thought that maybe you would like it more if I wasn't? And I guess it didn't help that there are a lot of people who thought the same way.”

“I'm sorry we didn't reassure you more.” Chan runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “How did we not see that you felt this way?”

“Because I didn't want you to? It's not like it was your fault anyway, I was just overthinking.”

“You know we're going to have to make it up to you, right?” Chan says, looking a little mischievous. 

“Oh please no,” you say, backing away nervously thinking of how much coddling and smothering you're about to endure. You're pretty sure you're already one of the members that's doted on the most. “Things are good as they are.”

“Nope, I refuse.” Chan approaches you, reaching out and catching your wrist so that you can't get away. “We're going to give you so much love that you're not going to doubt yourself ever again.”

“No!” you squeal, trying to tug away from his grip. “I already-” 

The rest of your sentence gets cut off as Chan pulls you into an embrace and your face gets smashed against his shoulder. He squeezes you tightly and contrary to your words, you just relax into his hold.

“What are you guys doing? You're being so loud.”

Both you and Chan freeze, then turn to stare as Jeongin shuffles into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes with his hair all mussed up. You turn back to Chan for a second before he replies.

“Just having a bit of a heart to heart, Innie. Come here, join us,” he invites.

“Ugh, why would I want to hug either of you?” Jeongin complains, wrinkling his nose before immediately walking over and enveloping both of you in his arms.

Even though you know you're going to have to leave for a schedule in a matter of hours, with both Chan and Jeongin's arms wrapped tight around you, you feel lighter than you have in months. You feel secure, at ease, and finally, like you've found a home in these boys.

where the heart is collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

[lixie-phoria]

9th member reader will forever be my favorite trope

[linolinoing]

BANG CHAN ⋮ dominATE WASHINGTON D.C. — 250623 (© lnc625 on tiktok)

[lixie-phoria]

What if (hypothetically speaking, of course) I start another idol!chan x idol!reader smau (and this time try my best to finish it)

please lmk I’m so bad at making decisions for myself

[lixie-phoria]

Seeing stray kids in less than an hour nobody talk to me 😋😋

[lixie-phoria]

now that im over how awful the experience was (not the show - the boys did great!!) im so mad at how mismanaged it was. we were aware how hot it was going to be days in advance. the staff knew what to expect. and they still fucked up so bad. it really got to the point where chan was doing more for stays than people who were literally trained and paid to do the same.

it's so unfair how stays spent so much money and time for this concert and it was ruined because of fucking inefficiency. we didn't get carts or miroh or stray kids and as glad as i am that the show ended early for our safety, it doesn't help that all of this could have been avoided.

i was there. the staff were rude. they wouldn't give us water for free when people were fainting left and right? and then asked us to throw it away when we were leaving the venue?? and after all this the boys had to go live and apologize when it wasn't even their fault.

im so pissed i cannot express it in words rn.

but for what it's worth, the Kids did so well despite the heat. they did their best to put up a great show and care for their fans.

[lixie-phoria]

finish. the. jeongin. smau.

i lowkey really want to get back to writing it too but im not sure if half the readers even remember it anymore because it hasn't been updated in a year 💀

[lixie-phoria]

Seeing stray kids in less than an hour nobody talk to me 😋😋

[kangaracha]

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 32

---

pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

a/n everybody. stay calm.

previous | masterlist | next

---

"Do you want to go for a walk?" you suggest one glass in, when it becomes clear that you won't be reaching the level of drunk you'd been aspiring to tonight. Not that you'd been aspiring very high anyway; you'd already learned, somewhere in between a myriad of training years, that drinking only caused more problems the next day. Just like smoking, or spending the night with some boy you knew would get cut from the program long before any debut came around to cause problems.

Not that it was hard to find a boy like that, back in the day; most of them were the left-overs from Stray Kids, with no new make debuts in sight. Or that your dating life had even found time to really thrive, when you filled every hour with work.

Anyway, you ask him to walk, knowing that he will say yes, and so you walk, shoulders close but not quite touching, all the way down to the river.

"Wow," he says when you get to the bank, staring out over the still, black water. "That's pretty." 

You agree before you even look, your own eyes mesmerised by the parklands around you. The night is still and cold, the stars blinking through the clouds overhead and your breath rising like a mist in front of you. It had snowed in the evening, a light, fresh coat of powder that just covers the ground. It will be gone in the morning, its beauty as transient as anything else's; but tonight, it feels a little like it fell just for you.

"It's cold," you remark, just to break the still and silent air, your chin finding the shelter of your collar. Chan turns away from the water, stepping close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off his body.

"You wanted to walk," he reminds you as he slips an arm around yours and lets you walk close beside him, leeching off his body heat. "I told you not to."

"I didn't realise it had snowed," you admit. "It's the end of winter. It's not supposed to snow anymore."

"You control the weather now?" he asks, and you slap the arm of his jacket, causing more noise than anything else. "Do you think it snowed just to annoy you?"

"No, it snowed because Jeongin cursed us earlier." You glance back at the city, your apartment building lost in the haze of lights. "He said he hopes it doesn't snow for his graduation, so it's going to snow for the next two weeks now."

"His graduation." Chan pretends to wipe away a tear, even as you smack his arm. "Our little baby, all grown up."

"He's only graduating," you say, watching how he smirks. "He's not getting any older."

"Not like us," Chan sighs. "We get older every day."

"Speak for yourself."

The grin flashes once more across his face and then fades again. "It's so weird, seeing him graduate. He was so small when he joined the company. Unconfident, or whatever the word is."

"He was cute," you agree. "He was my favourite part of the survival show."

"I still can't believe you watched that." His head shakes, even as he smiles. 

Your laughter rises into the still air. "Of course I did," you say on the end of your breath. "I watched everything. I'm the biggest Stay there is now."

"Oh?" His eyebrow raises. "Do you have a bias, then?"

"Why? Are you hoping that it's you?"

"No, no, no," he says, a fraction too early to be casual. "Just wondering."

"Oh." You pretend to be disappointed, kicking at the snow on the ground. "Well, I'm not going to pick you if you aren't going to be excited about it."

"I could be excited about it." 

"You don't look very excited."

"My favourite idol is standing right next to me, so I'm trying to be cool about it."

You snort a laugh. "You're such a loser," you tell him wholeheartedly. It comes out affectionate anyway, just the same as the squeeze he gives your arm in response, his fingers trying to pinch you through your thick winter coat. "Or a shameless flirt. Do you ever wonder why you have like, a million girlfriends?"

"What, Stay?" he asks, his ears turning red. "I don't know why they say that. I didn't do anything."

"You don't even know when you're flirting," you say sadly, shaking your head.

"I know when I'm flirting," he says. "I'm just not flirting with them."

"Who are you flirting with, then?"

He refuses to meet your eye when you look at him, staring out at the river instead, like there is something of extreme interest out there in the still water. "No one," he says defensively.

Weird. Your conversation with Changbin earlier runs through your mind again, narrowing your eyes even as he avoids them. Your mouth almost opens to ask him, just on instinct; and then stops, because you're not entirely sure that he would answer if you did. Or that you want to ask.

"Could have fooled me," you say instead, and watch him breathe out in relief. Weird; Changbin was right, that is the word for it. The way he's acting, the things he is and isn't saying...

"Sorry," he says, like he isn't sorry at all. "It's all a lie. I don't love any of you."

"Or Stay?"

"Nope." He pauses, glancing at the path ahead while he draws in a breath. "Especially not after today. They'll have to try a lot harder than that if they want my respect."

All the breath leaves your chest at once, surprise catching itself in your throat at the thread of vehemency that exists within the even cadence of his voice. "It was only a few of them," you say; though around the constriction of your own chest at the thought of it, you don't know why you're defending them. 

"It's more than a few," he throws back, before you can even decide if you're going to rally a proper argument or not. "I saw a picture of that banner you were talking about. It was..."

"Not worth crying over?" you guess wryly, ignoring the black feeling that twinges in your gut at the memory of it.

"No," Chan replies pointedly, ruffling your hat and the hair underneath. "It was cruel. Don't go around thinking that you deserved that."

"I don't think I deserved it." You take your time fixing your hair, brushing dark locks back away from your eyes. "I've worked for this. I just worry that I'm...wrong."

He is already shaking his head. "You're not wrong. I kind of wish you were, because then that would mean you don't spend every day working yourself to death."

"I'm not working to death."

"Just until your back gives out and your voice starts cracking."

You turn to look at him and the amused smile that hides in the corner of his mouth, affronted. "Excuse me," you say, the airs of your voice rising. "Jagiya, my voice never cracks. I'm a professional."

His smile grows wider, escaping from its prison to light up his face. "That's true," he admits. "It's kind of annoying, actually. You could set the bar lower."

"I can't do that," you answer. "You already told me I have to stop dancing. I can't be bad at both, what will I do then?"

"Visuals?" Chan's eyes narrow, peering at your face like he's evaluating you. 

You wave him away with one hand, ducking away from his scrutiny. "You want me to take Changbin's job? He'll be sad."

Chan shrugs. "We can deal with upset Changbin." You scoff and he laughs, a low noise that rumbles out from the centre of his chest. "Does this mean you're going to listen to me about the dancing, then?"

You can feel your cheeks turn red, the memory of your conversation earlier in the night playing fresh in your mind. You hadn't lied to him - you have been thinking about it, almost obsessively, since he'd sat you down there and told you in no uncertain terms that things would change. That you were the thing that needs to change, as embarrassing and frustrating and utterly confidence-breaking as it is. "Of course I am," you mumble, your voice constricted by some base desire to defend yourself against...what? Your pride? "I listen to you about everything. Why wouldn't I?"

"I wasn't sure," he replies simply, his voice neither accusatory nor pleading. "You were pretty...angry earlier. It didn't seem like you liked the idea."

"I don't like-" You stop yourself midway, forcing yourself to take a breath and collate your thoughts in a way that makes sense. "I don't think it's a good idea for the group. But I get where you're coming from and I...can agree that maybe I need to...tone it down."

"Tone it up," he amends, squeezing your shoulders. "Talk on stage like you do at home, go crazy."

"Do I go crazy at home?"

His head tilts, looking at you. "Not really," he admits freely. "You could try it though."

"I thought you told me I should be myself?"

"Don't use my words against me."

A laugh slips from you, bubbling softly from the back of your throat when you least expect it. It sounds nice in the night air, ringing just so to your attuned ear. It's almost as nice as when Chan laughs along with you, hushed to avoid breaking the stillness of the moment. You should laugh more often; and make him laugh, instead of watching his face pinch with worry. You could both use a little more of the carefree joy he's talking about.

"I deleted all of my social media," you blurt out without precedence, the sudden wish to tell him pressing through the apprehension that had held you back before. "I asked skijigi to manage bubble too. I just have to write something for her to post once a week or whatever."

"That's-" For a second, he is lost for words, his face awe-struck. "You didn't have to do anything today, you know. I only meant for you to think about it."

"I thought about it for the rest of the show," you reply. "I knew anyway. I've been pretending for months that I'd stop looking at fan comments, I just needed you to yell at me for me to...actually do it."

Acknowledge addiction, but you don't want to phrase it like that, not in the face of the wry smile he gives you. Nor do you tell him about the itch under your skin that begs you to go and look at the responses to your performance and your mistake. 

And the period of time when you'd disappeared together with no explanation.

"I'm sorry if it seemed like I was yelling," he says. "I was just trying to tell you-"

"No," you correct him before he can rush to explain a slight that hadn't occurred in the first place. "That was bad phrasing. You were - everything you said was perfect. And right."

"About everything?" he asks, and you nod. "Even about being yourself? Ignoring the company?"

Your answer is slow, your voice without breath as the weight of what he's asking settles upon you. "If you promise to tell me if - anything hurts the group. I - you said earlier that you don't care if we go home because the fans don't like me. I don't want you to think like that and then ignore things."

"Y/N." His arm is like a vise grip around your shoulders, holding on like you might slip away and disappear. "I said that because there's no way it will ever happen. And even if it did, I'm not leaving my whole career to depend on someone's misery. None of us want success like that."

Your mouth opens to protest, your feet stuttering on the pavement. "Don't argue with me," he says before you can speak. "Just accept that you're worth it, okay? To all of us. It's not that unbelievable."

Your mouth closes and then opens again, speechless. Your eyes watch the toes of your boots sinking into the show, your knees almost too weak to carry you. "I'm going to do it," you say, piece by piece. "I can't promise it will change anything though."

"It'll change what happened today," he answers, the level gaze of his eyes too intense for you to meet. "That's all I care about."

You don't know what to say in response, your heart floating on air and crashing to the ground all in the same moment. A breath of cold air saves you, the wind whipping away the shelter of your collar and stinging your cheeks as it whips past. Your hair knows and tangles in the wind; you shove your hat further down on your head and then huddle into your coat, hissing at the cold. "That's freezing," you comment, as if noting it will help to stave it off. "What are we doing out here?"

"You wanted to walk," Chan reminds you, the smug glee in his voice unmistakeable. "I told you it would be cold."

The tension drains from your body as his teasing tone returns, the warm nature of his voice pushing the previous discussion from your mind. "We should have had another drink before we went," you say, and you're surprised to find that you mean it wholeheartedly.

"Are you sure you could handle another one?" he asks. "You're already all sweet and sobby and weird."

"I only had one."

"And look, your face is all red."

You turn to look at him, the mist of his breath whispering past your face. "So is yours," you point out, your finger poking at the flush of his cheek. "You're being a lot weirder than me, too."

"Am I?" he asks, indulgent.

You nod. "Even Changbin messaged me to ask what was up with you earlier."

He frowns, his mouth curving like he's going to pout. "What does that mean? I wasn't being weird earlier."

"I don't know." You shrug, and his arm squeezes your shoulder, pulling you closer again. "I didn't think you were doing anything strange."

"But I am now?"

Your feet ease to a stop in the shadow between streetlights, slipping out of the reach of his arm so that your eyes can search his face, like you'll find the answer written across his forehead or something. He waits patiently, his lips pressed together to hold back a smile while you make your judgement, his eyes daring you to accuse him of something. 

"You tell me," you say after a moment, and you watch with fascination as uncertainty flickers over that face as his confidence crumbles from the inside. You're sure then that he's hiding something, even as he swallows what he's feeling and lifts his chin again, assessing.

"There is actually something I've been meaning to tell you," he says slowly, in the kind of voice that makes your heart suddenly leap and skip a beat in your chest, all of your skin suddenly alive to the touch of his hand against the back of yours, the shift of the air in the yawning space between you. "Although I think you already kind of know."

"Do I?" You search your memory for what he could possibly be talking about, confusion creasing your face, and come up short. Hadn't you just been talking honestly about the day, and the future, and the secrets you might have been withholding from each other? Hadn't he already said everything nice about you that there could possibly be to comment on? You continue down the list, past what he's already said to what he might say next, but still, you don't know - you've talked about your life, and Jeongin, and the future of Stray Kids, and whether or not he is flirting-

Why would you think that, you scold yourself, right as he says, "I don't know if it's good or bad news though."

Your heart lodges itself firmly in your throat without thinking, your chest squeezing - but not with the same black feeling of anxiety that usually plagues you, only some stupid thrill of something like butterflies. "You know you're going to have to come clean now, right?" you ask, trying to play like you're not holding anticipation so tight in your chest at the direction your thoughts are going that it feels like your ribs might cave in; and pretending that there isn't the possibility that you might like it.

"Yeah, I know," he says, and suddenly he can't quite look at you, his head ducking and then turning to look out at the river, the lights, anything but the situation he is creating. Not that he's trying to run away; rather, his weight shifts an inch closer, like two moons that can't pull away from each other. "Now it's awkward though."

You smile in a way that you hope isn't giddy. "And whose fault is that?" you ask, teasing him in just the same way as he would you.

His head tips to the sky, mouth sighing out a breath of mist and hot air. "Mine," he admits freely. "It was a moment of weakness. I thought we were being wild and irresponsible tonight."

"There's still time." You reach out for his hand, lacing your fingers together pointedly. "I can be irresponsible if you can."

"Can you be my friend even if I say something really stupid?" he asks. "At least until we walk home?"

You eye him warily. "Is it that bad?" you ask. 

"No!" he hurries to answer, before you can get any ideas. "It's fine, I swear, it's just-" He stops himself short, drawing in a breath instead of spilling words out on one and composing himself. It's a trick you should learn, you think as you watch it, as he turns back to you and sets his jaw and lines the words up in the back of his throat, right before he starts to speak. 

"I like you," he says, devastatingly blunt.

Your mind freezes, and then starts spinning again twice as fast.

You're pretty sure he can see the race of your heart in your chest, the shock that widens your eyes and sets your spine ram-rod straight. Your mouth opens to say something, and then stops before you can blurt out something stupid like, of course you do, we're friends, or what's that supposed to mean or I like you too. Be cool, you tell yourself instead, sending the instruction sternly to your heart and the fluttering in your chest like it will help. If anything, it only makes the world around you spin more, the river and the stars and the dim light of the lanterns that line the path blurring together into a background of black and grey that pinpoints your focus on only one thing.

Him.

"Sorry," he says again, though even he doesn't seem to understand what he's apologising for. "That's confusing. I - am in love with you? I have a big, stupid crush on you. And I know that it's not...ideal, when we have to work together forever, and I will not be offended if you turn me down, or even sad, I just wanted you to know because we keep promising not to lie to each other and it feels like I'm lying to you all the time-"

You don't think before you step forward, your mouth shutting him up as effectively as any words would.

It's simple and fleeting, your lips pressed to his and your hands curled around the lapels of his jacket. His mouth is soft and accepting, a gasp catches in the back of his throat, and then-

And then he pulls away, his eyes wide and his chest heaving in a startled breath. You can feel the movement of his ribcage under his jacket - stunned, you let go, ducking your head as shame fills your cheeks. Crazy, you chastise yourself, before his open mouth can even begin to say it for himself. That's not what he meant. That's not what he wanted.

His hands reach for you first, fingers grazing the edge of your jawline. The soft cup of his palms forces you to look up at him again, into those soft brown eyes you're too afraid to meet-

He kisses you again, harder this time. Desperate, and hungry, his mouth searching and his body so close that the heat of his skin sets you alight too. There's no escape, but there isn't anywhere you want to go anyway - not when you can stay here in this moment forever, captured in the taste of his mouth and the soft touch of his fingers sliding along the back of your neck. You emerge, breathless, only when he pulls away again, staring at you like there is nothing else in the world worth seeing.

"That feels like it was a mistake," you say quietly, though you can't miss the gaping hole in your tone where the regret should be.

"Sorry," Chan answers, and puts another inch of space between you. "If you didn't want-"

You reach up again, pressing a fleeting kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I wanted," you answer firmly when you are sure he's speechless, your fingers curling into his shoulder. "I don't think it was the smartest thing to do, but...I wanted. So I did." His eyes look at you like they don't believe you, his mouth opening again to issue some guilt-free ticket out. "You told me to do whatever I wanted."

A surprised laugh sputters out of his mouth. "I didn't think that you felt the same way," he answers.

"Neither did I," you say slowly. "I didn't even realise it was an option."

"I thought you already knew," he says, bemused.

"No?" you say. "Why would you think that?"

"Because - it was something you said earlier. It doesn't matter." He waves it away before you can probe any further, his fingers landing in the length of your hair, messing with the dark locks. "Does this mean you'll still be my friend while we walk home?"

The back of your hand thumps solidly against his chest, a stupid giggle bursting from his mouth at the sound that it makes. "This is serious, you know," you tell him, but there's a laugh hiding in the back of your throat as well, threatening to break free at the face he pulls at you. "We can't just-"

His mouth swallows the words that are about to spill out of your own, shutting you up more effectively than anything he could have said. "Greedy," you murmur when he pulls away and he laughs, the warmth of his breath ghosting across his face. 

"I wanted," he says, his voice so low that even if there were other people around, only you would hear it. "So I did."

You hit him again. He laughs.

"Let's go home," he says, turning you back the way you came with the hand that he takes in his own. "It's too cold out here for this."

"For what?" you ask insistently, even though you follow along too giddy and willing to sell the ire in your voice. You feel kind of like you're floating - like all the alcohol has hit you at once. Like you've just won something that you've wanted your whole life, even though you only realised you wanted it in the last ten minutes. 

"For whatever you're trying to argue about now," he tells you, ever patient, and drags you onwards. "And another drink."

"That's all?" 

"What else do you want?"

Your answer hesitates for a moment, even at the sight of the cunning smile that plays on his lips, waiting for you to speak. I don't know, you almost say simply out of habit; and then stop yourself short, because this time, it isn't true. This time, you do know what you want, and you have it right here in the palm of your hands.

And for once, you look at him and there is not a doubt in your mind that you know what he is thinking. What he wants, what he is brave enough to admit even when you were too scared to so much as consider it. You, and him, and nothing else, not for tonight.

"I don't want anything else," you answer, quiet but true, the smile on your face so much softer than the nervous, giddy energy that jolts through your veins at the thought of it. "Just what I already have. That's enough."

"Me too," he answers, and squeezes your hand as he leads the way home.

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids

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[lixie-phoria]

"Does this mean you'll still be my friend while we walk home?" YES CHAN ANYTHING FOR U

giggling and blushing rn where do i get myself a christopher

[lixie-phoria]

It's definitely been a while since I've posted on here and I want to try getting back into writing for skz !!

send in any requests you have and i'll try getting them out before winter break ends and i'm back to college <3