Not Your Doll - (bf!bang Chan X Reader)

✧ 𝔬𝔱8 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ! (스트레이 키즈) . . . ✧

back to individual member masterlist . . .

[a] - angst | [f] - fluff | [c] - comfort | [cr] - crack | [ht] - heavy or triggering themes | [t] - thoughts

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how skz loves you - hyung line maknae line [f] [t]

how skz would do their nails - hyung line maknae line [f] [t]

asking skz "would you love me if i was a worm?" - hyung line maknae line [f] [t] [c]

skz and what type of magic they would wield - 100 follower special [t] [c]

safe - (ot8!skz x 9th member!reader) [f] [c] [a]

relight me - (ot8!skz x 9th member with ed!reader) [f] [c] [a]

valentines' day event special - (ot8! skz x reader) [f] [c] [a] [cr]

dissonance - (ot8!skz x 9th member with anxiety) [f] [c] [a]

rest easy - (ot8!skz x exhausted noona!reader) [f] [c] [a]

skz and celebrating their 9th member's birthday [f] [cr] [c]

skz x 9th member who can speak multiple languages - (ot8!skz x polyglot!9th member reader) [t] [cr] [f]

you get your period on stage - (ot8!skz x reader) [f] [c] [cr] [a]

don't go - (ot8!skz hyung!line x reader) [f] [a] [ht]

don't go - (ot8!skz maknae!line x reader) [f] [a] [ht]

skz x short 9th!member reader [f] [c]

protective!hyung line skz x maknae!9th member reader [f] [c] [a]

protective!maknae line skz x makenae!9th member reader [f] [c] [a]

ot8!skz x pregnant 9th member reader [f] [c] [t]

ot8!skz x plus one! 9th member reader [f] [t]

will i be okay? - (ot8!skz x injured!9th member reader) [f] [a] [ht]

ot8!skz x protective fem!reader [f] [c] [t]

soft landing - (ot8!skz x distressed reader) [f] [c] [a]

dividers by @bernardsbendystraws | skz prompt list

ttokki!! can u share your works/requests in progress w us, please?

hi anon ! omg i don't know why but i heard the cutest, sweetest little voice saying this when i read it. cute. anyway, i have a couple wips right now:

☆ bf jisung x reader who loves to bake

☆ minho x reader with prompts 7 and 28 from my prompt list

☆ another mystery 9th member fic that i'm thinking of posting soon

☆ a skz reaction post

that's it so far ! requests usually kind of flood in after i post a 9th member fic so i'm just waiting for requests atm ><

bye cute anon . . .

savage 🧚 💖  #aespa

ninth member!reader who got her period on stage and leaked and after all the boys like cuddle her and stuff??

ooooohhhh that would be a nightmare . . . i'd be mortified >< hope all the female kpop stars out there don't ever have to experience this <3 here you gooooo~~

when you get your period on stage - skz x 9th member! reader

pairing: ot8!skz x 9th member!reader who gets their period

summary: you get your period on stage and skz helps you out !

genre: fluffy all the way through pretty much, idol! au, cute but confused innie, changbin is also confused but he's got the spirit, minho is horrified (not in a bad way i promise), blatantly feminist seungmin, reader has a period, mentions of eating, drinking, mentions of medication, period stains, and pads (does that need a warning?)

a/n: i've had a few period requests but this one was funny lol. div by @thecutestgrotto

skz masterlist

It begins with a dull ache.

It's not one that you notice, actually; you're too busy trying to reach something on the top shelf, munching on tteokbokki as you do. Jeongin and Felix stand by, watching curiously as your fingertips brush one of the extremely-caffeinated drinks that Chan has stocked out of reach. Seungmin watches, lying on the couch with half a smirk on his face.

You and the maknaes have been eyeing them since you were all ushered into the dressing room to be fitted for outfits. Now, you're making a daring attempt to try and sneak a few sips before the hyung line comes back from getting their makeup done.

Your stomach pangs from the amount of food you've wolfed down in the past ten minutes. At least, you think that's what it's from, but you don't have time to ponder it, because the speaker call for Stray Kids sounds over the intercoms.

Five minutes.

You're all ushered out into the backstage area, where the glitter and buzz of the upcoming performance lifts your energy more than the caffeinated drinks ever could. For the first time, you're glad that Chan has restricted something from you.

You turn just as a stylist does a few last-minute checks on your outfit and makeup; she adjusts the star stickers dotted around your nose and cheeks; you've been breaking out a lot lately, and you grin sheepishly as she peels a couple more off a plastic sheet, placing them systematically around your face.

She rolls her eyes affectionately as you feel Chan's warm hand on your back, pushing you gently to the space just before the performance stage.

Your intro music comes on and you're rocketing into the first few moves of the performance, smiling and dancing with all your might. It's exhilarating to be out on the stage after countless practices and lessons; this is everything you've worked for in the past few weeks.

You feel shiny and in the spotlight as you sing your lines with a flawless tune, relishing in the cheer of the crowd. Other artists sitting in the front few rows and looking through the stage wings look impressed as you shoot the camera a wink.

This is the most confident you've ever felt.

That is, until the performance slowly comes to an end, the music swelling and becoming louder until you feel your ears might burst. You push through, like always, and put every single iota of energy from your body into the last few moves, twirling perfectly into your ending position. You almost stumble, but catch yourself, covering it up flawlessly. You catch Minho's knowing smirk as he positions himself behind one of the other members, and you fight the confused look as his face as his face drops, eyes widening, and he turns back to look at the front.

You don't have time to overthink Minho's strange reaction to you either, because you spot your fancam, and that's when you feel it.

The gush.

You know that feeling well enough to know that it's not discharge, or anything of the sort; you even hope you've just mildly pissed yourself because you would rather it be anything but that. Anything.

Unfortunately, your wishes aren't granted.

You fight the wince on your face as everything starts falling into place; the breaking out, the overemotional responses to dance feedback, and even the unusual amount of fatigue and headaches you've been fighting for most of the week. And of course, those stomach pains earlier were most definitely not from an overdose of delicious tteokbokki. They were cramps.

You press your thighs together and hope there's not a cameraman behind you filming. Putting on your best smile for the fancam, you hold your ending position and make a few cutesy faces to satisfy the fans as the lights go down.

The stage momentarily darkens as the live camera filming crew make their final cuts, and the next artist lines up at the wings as you all hurry off stage. You bow hurriedly as your hands hover embarrassedly at your behind, hoping against hope that you haven't stained the pretty star-cutout jeans you've been given. Because, of course, it had to be lightly coloured, and not the usual dark leather pants you always wear. Denim should hide the potential stain, right?

Of course, no such luck.

You look down and see a pair of muscled arms as your belt; Jisung has whipped off his jacket is and tying it hurriedly around your waist, looking as far away from your lower half as possible. You look up, and see most of the members looking at you; they all hastily avert their gazes at your cheeks burn in shame.

"You feeling okay, Y/n?" Changbin, who has just come back from taking off his mic, looks you up, then down, his brow creasing in concern. "Jisung, why'd you take your jacket off?"

Jisung retracts his arms from around your waist, his face going red. "I- uhm, uh.. you- she, um.. you know..."

Changbin stands in confusion, not understand his friend's stuttering. Felix facepalms and steps forward, taking your hand. By now, one of your arms is wrapped around your waist, trying to soothe the dull, throbbing pain in your lower gut. He starts leading you away, and the boys follow, looking anywhere but you.

Chan immediately takes control as soon as you all step into the dressing room, sending one of the boys to fetch a pair of sweats and a new top from their bag. He gently pushes you to the bathroom and takes out your emergency kit from your bag, giving you a gentle, reassuring smile.

In the bathroom, you tie your stained underwear in a scented plastic bag and put it in the bin. They were old, anyway. Changing into a new pair of underwear and pressing a thick pad to the fabric, you wash your hands and then stick a hand out the bathroom door to receive the spare clothes from one of the boys. You change and exit the bathroom.

Hyunjin has managed to steal several teabags from the staff waiting room, and the rich scent of floral tea fills the air, instantly soothing you. You sit down and try not to make eye contact with anyone.

"Hey, Y/nnie."

You look up as your gaze meets Chan's again. "Yeah..."

"It's okay. I don't think anyone noticed, hmm?"

You groan, your face going red. "What if they did?"

"Then who cares?" Seungmin adds from the couch, his eyes fixed on his phone, where a game screen is loading. "It's normal."

You blink at the unexpected show of support, however blunt it is, and fight a weak smile, crossing your arms over your stomach. Hyunjin hands you the cup of tea and you inhale the light steam, taking a hot mouthful and swallowing slowly, the liquid heat caressing the aching contractions in your abdomen.

You look up just as Jeongin shyly hands you two hand-warming pads. You take them with a smile, fighting the urge to squish his cheeks.

You do it anyway. "What are these for, Innie?"

"Mhmmff- noona, stop... they're for your stomach.. I heard that heat helps, but we don't have a heat pad-"

A tear spills down your cheek at the cuteness (and maybe the hormones). The entire room riots and yelps fill the silence.

"INNIE YOU MADE HER CRY-"

"NOONA DON'T CRY PLEASE-"

"You look so ugly when you cry, Y/n."

"AYEN WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

You groan and cover your ears. "It's fine, I'm just getting hormonal- thank you, Innie. These will help."

He nods and smiles cutely before moving to rest at your side, his warmth providing instant comfort.

I wonder what happened, he thinks, resting his head on your shoulder. I still doesn't know why she's bleeding out of your butt, but at least she's not crying.

Chan comes into the room again with a staff member who, on coming up to you, hands you a blister packet of two tablets. You take the painkillers with a grateful smile and down them in a mouthful of the tea.

"Thank you," you say quietly to the group.

Jisung grins, still without his jacket. "Feeling any better, cutie?"

You nod, smiling.

"Yeah."

a/n: yayyy ! anyway idk how i was supposed to end this . . . anyway

Hi hi! It's me again :) since you offered and I loved your last fic I read, I was wondering if I could request something? A hurt/comfort+ fluff with Jisung helping you feel better after you overworked yourself <33 cute 🥺 thank you!

hello >< thank you for requesting haha, i wasn't sure if you'd take me up on the offer ! this fic is a little bit self-indulgent and i got carried away, but i had fun writing this ask, so here it is <3

instant ramen - han jisung

pairing: han jisung x reader

summary: jisung finds out you've been overworking yourself

genre: fluff, idol! au, lots of angst, fainting, mentions of not eating properly, sad reader, hurt to comfort, jisung ft. concerned leader bang chan

a/n: eat, eat, you EAT !!

The scratching of Jisung's pen and the occasional tune of a hum were the only sounds reverberating through the studio. He sighed, leaning back in his chair, pen at his lips, and thought hard, eyes tilting up to look at the paneled ceiling. Changbin was beside him, eyes laser-focused on his own monitor, and his foot tapping every now and then against the hardwood floor.

Struck with another idea, Jisung leaned forward again and scribbled it down so fast he knocked over the energy drink at the end of the desk. Changbin snickered in the background as Jisung scrambled to catch it.

Hurriedly repositioning the can, he turned his attention back to the digital program and added several new beats, creating an entirely new depth to the unfinished track. He scribbled a scheduled recording time on a sticky note and stuck it to the monitor, moving back to his lyric notebook.

He was in the zone.

Said zone was rudely interrupted by a soft yet persistent knocking on the frosted glass of the studio door. Jisung turned almost impatiently, his inspiration and focus fleeing almost instantly at the disturbance. He sighed.

"Hey, Chan-hyung."

The older boy's voice was quiet, apologetic, but his face was unusually calm. Almost too calm, like he was holding back.

"Can you come outside for a minute?"

Changbin glanced up from his monitor before Chan waved a dismissive hand. Jisung got up quietly and shut the frosted studio door behind him.

"Hyung, what's wrong?"

Chan's mouth pressed into a firm line, pulling Jisung's smartphone out of his pocket and handing it to the younger boy. "You left your phone in the dance studio, and it kept ringing, so I picked it up. Y/n's workplace left about seven calls."

A knot of sudden worry settled in the pit of Jisung's stomach. His eyebrows furrowed. "Is she okay?"

Chan's tone was soft, yet urgent.

"She fainted."

Jisung's knees buckled, and he fumbled for his phone. True to Chan's word, there were now about nine calls left unreceived.

"Fuck," he swore.

Chan pulled his car key out of his pocket. "She's at home. Come on, I'll drive you."

✧✧✧

Jisung fumbled with his house key, his hands clammy. He missed the lock about four times before managing to slip it in, and he tripped in his haste to get inside. Chan called a concerned warning from the driveway, locking his car.

Dashing to the living room, Jisung noticed a fluffy head of hair poking up from behind the couch. He climbed over the side and landed with an oof next to you, making you jolt. You were wrapped in a fluffy blanket, a glass of water and several snacks on the coffee table in front of you. You were still in your work clothes, though they were no longer orderly and free of rumples.

His hands cupped your pale face, eyes frantically searching over your body for any sort of injury.

"Jagiya, are you okay? I came here as soon as I could, I'm sorry I missed your calls, wait, why did you-"

"Sungie, I'm fine-"

"You fucking fainted, Y/n! Do you know how worried I was? Chan had to speed here because I was so worried. What happened? This is serious!"

You bit your lip, feeling guilty tears well up in your eyes. "I'm sorry, I just- I didn't mean for it to happen."

Jisung sighed, leaning into your side, his hand coming up to tenderly stroke your thigh. Chan waited by the doorway, eyebrows creased with worry and arms folded across his broad chest.

Jisung's voice was urgent, soft. "Jagi, what happened? Chan told me he saw so many calls from your workplace on my phone, because I forgot it in the studio. He said you fainted."

You nod, a hot tear spilling down your cheek.

Jisung sighed, biting his lip so hard he thought he might draw blood. "Did you eat today? Or drink water?"

Your silence was enough to tell him the answer. Jisung fretted, his hands coming up to gently tilt your face towards him. You hated seeing him so worried. All because of you, you think.

"Y/n, we talked about this, you need to eat, you need to drink water. No wonder you collapsed."

"I'm sorry," you cry out weakly. "It's so hard, Sung... I haven't had time to do anything, I just thought if I worked harder it would all fix itself," you sob softly into his shoulder, "But it didn't."

Jisung sighed, leaning his head on top of yours. "I'm sorry for getting all pissy at you. I didn't mean to snap, I just want you to be okay. Did you drive home?"

You sniff. "My coworker drove me."

Jisung nods, kissing your temple softly. "Have you had anything to eat, apart from these snacks?"

You shake your head.

Jisung lets out a soft noise of sympathy. "Let's get some proper food in you, and some water too. Did you drink any?"

You point to the half-finished glass of water on the coffee table.

"Good girl," he says softly, standing up. "Try and finish that, and I'll make you something to eat."

"Make me something too," Chan pipes up from the doorway, trying to lighten the mood a little, and cheer you up.

You shift a little on the couch so you can watch Jisung in the kitchen. He's busy rummaging through the fridge, pulling out several ingredients, then he disappears into the pantry. He emerges with three cups of instant ramen.

You and Chan watch inquisitively as he pulls the lid off one of the cups, turning around to switch the kettle on. He knocks the entire cup off the countertop, the dried ramen noodles scattering all over the floor. Chan winces just as a muffled curse comes from behind the kitchen island.

You take small, slow sips of the water, the glass cool against your skin as you watch Jisung clean up the mess. Chan carries two tablets to you and you swallow them before thanking him quietly, hoping the medicine will kick in soon. He leans against the back of the couch, watching Jisung clatter about in the kitchen. The kettle stopped boiling a while ago, but you appreciate Jisung's efforts nonetheless.

Chan leans down to you, an eyebrow quirked and his voice low. "He'll be a while," he says with a defeated chuckle, pulling out his phone and swiping up onto a takeout app. "Let's just order food."

You chuckle and nod in agreement.

a/n: i need new dividers

asking skz hyung line - "would you still love me if i was a worm?"

pairing: ot8 hyung line x reader

summary: you ask skz hyung line if they would love you if you were a worm.

genre: fluff, non-idol! au, crack

a/n: lmk if you guys want the maknaes !

bang chan

chuckles when you ask him

then goes quiet

he def thinks for a moment before answering

is mildly confused by the question but his eyes are twinkling as he replies

hes so soft and gentle about it pls

"A worm, huh? Well, i'd probably be super confused at first, because the love of my life suddenly turned into a worm, but i would find a way to keep you safe. Maybe i would make a little worm home for you, with the best soil so you could be happy and live a comfortable life. But honestly, it doesn’t matter what, or who you are. Love isn't about appearances; it’s about the connection we have. So, yeah, even if you were a worm, I'd still love you. I’d probably talk to you all the time, even if you couldn’t talk back to me. And knowing you, you'd still find a way to make me smile, even as a little worm."

lee know

almost instantly jokes about frying you in the airfryer with hyunjin

starts googling 'tasty worm recipes'

but when he notices that you're serious about it he stops and reassures you he's joking

looks at you for a long time, head tilted

when he responds it's very thoughtful

"Well, I'd probably have to find a nice garden for you. Maybe you'd enjoy digging around in the dirt, finding cozy spots to burrow into... But honestly, I’d still care for you. It might be strange, but love isn’t something that disappears just because of a change in appearance. I’d find a way to keep you safe, and who knows? Maybe I'd learn to appreciate worms a lot more. I’d probably keep you in my pocket so we could still go everywhere together. It’d be different, but I’d still love you all the same."

changbin

bursts out laughing at the question

100% caught off guard

smiles wider and wider as he responds

is very animated and keeps gesturing with his hands

starts looking online for pet worms so he can buy one and show you how well he would take care of it as proof

"A worm? You’re really asking me that? I don’t think I’d ever expect to hear you ask me something like that. But okay, let’s see… if you were a worm, I’d make sure you had the best worm life possible. I’d probably take you on all my adventures, keeping you safe in a little jar or something. You being a worm wouldn’t change how I feel. I’d probably talk to you every day, telling you about my day and everything i did. Oh, and i would make you little protein shakes so you can be a strong worm. So, yeah, even if you were, I’d still love you. You’d be my special little worm."

hyunjin

ah, our romantic lover boy...

smiles softly when you first ask him

slowly becomes more thoughtful as he thinks about his reply

when he speaks, it's soft and tinged with affection

he loves you with all his heart but he secretly hopes you don't turn into an actual worm (he doesn't like slimy things)

"A worm? Well, if you were a worm, I’d probably carry you around in a little glass vial, close to my heart. I’d talk to you and make sure you’re safe and comfortable. It’d be a strange situation, but I’d find a way to make it work. Love isn’t just about what someone looks like. It’s about how they make you feel, and you make me feel loved and happy and complete. So even if you were a worm, I’d still love you. I’d probably end up writing cute poems about you on little pieces of paper, my little worm muse."

a/n: should i do the maknaes? comment if you want a second part !

Does anyone else feel lonesome?

Not lonely. Not alone. Just... lonesome. Like you don't feel connected to anyone. Like you never feel that you will find anyone that understands you, that will see you truly, let alone someone who will even like you. You see friends everywhere, but you don't see yourself in their place, like that is not for you, like you're not made for that and that's not made for you. You see people having fun and laughing and dancing and getting drunk and falling in love and you just... don't feel that for yourself. Like you're not supposed to have that, like you can't because it's not for you and you're not for it.

Like you're supposed to be seeing all these beautiful things in the world but not experience them yourself. Like you want to experience so much, experience everything, but be overwhelmed by it so you don't do any of it.

Like you want to be everywhere and do everything, but you don't belong anywhere and can't do anything. Like you're not supposed to be here. Not in a self-deprecating way but in an incongruous way. You want to live you want to be alive, but you feel you're not supposed to be. Not here at least, not like this. Just a presence in the world, not an active member of it. Even your body doesn't feel like home, your face isn't a face you recognise, like you're not supposed to have either. Like you're just supposed to be.

Like you're supposed to observe, but not experience.

the fast lane : part 5 (bangchan x reader x felix)

Summary: Welcome to the world of underground street racing. Chan is known for his flashy cars and confident attitude. You're new to the racing scene, eager but inexperienced. Felix is known for his sneaky tactics and charming demeanour. What happens when all three of your worlds collide?

Warnings: skz racer!au, fluff, angst, chan isn't as much of a dick (yayyy), jisung is the best, lots of vroom vrooming, not proofread, brief mentions of injury, tiny bit suggestive if you squint, that's it i think 3.6 k wc

series masterlist

part 5 : white knight and black knight

"You ready?" Jisung asked.

Y/n nodded shakily, adjusting her leather jacket. The material felt foreign, unusually smooth and uncomfortable against her skin. Jisung had kindly lent it to her, since she didn't have a racing jacket of her own yet, and not for the first time, Y/n was truly grateful for his amiable nature and quick smile.

He was just so easy to be friends with.

Y/n had only spent several days in Jisung's company as he'd helped train her, but by the time Saturday's race came around, she felt as if she'd known him for years. It was a pleasant feeling, to have someone who was so willingly kind to her after experiencing Chan's confusing attitude towards her, and the other racers' nonchalance and ignorance of her presence entirely. Minho's absence still bitterly tugged at Y/n's heartstrings, but with Jisung's constant chattering, grinning, and spontaneous antics, the sadness and longing began to slowly fade away, and Y/n surprisingly found herself enjoying herself in and out of the arena for the first time since Minho's impromptu training sessions.

Jisung nudged her shoulder suddenly, chuckling as she blinked, having been so lost in her thoughts that she'd forgotten where she was. "You'll be fine, Y/n."

Y/n exhaled, nodding, glad that he'd mistaken her quietness for nerves. She liked Jisung, but being a naturally suspicious person, she was finding it truly difficult to open up and tell him things that might have come easy to someone else. She understood now, why Chan acted the way he did, how he might have been feeling the same way as she did, not knowing who to trust or open up to.

Y/n was surprised she currently even had the capacity to hear herself think. The arena was bright and bustling, trails of car exhaust smoke rising in wisping plumes against the night sky. The floodlights were slightly dimmed, their usual blinding, white glare toned down by the hundreds of coloured light bulbs threading through the grandstands, giving the arena and racetrack a garishly dramatic, multi-coloured aura of reds, pinks, blues, and yellows. The cars racing in the next heat were already lined up, decorated in flashy stripes and sheens of neon colours that made Y/n's head spin if she looked for too long. Minho's car, her car now, was there too, the neon green and chrome black cast sending a jolting, bittersweet pang through her heart. Jisung's neon red and candy-pink Mustang was positioned directly behind hers.

Someone brushed past her shoulder suddenly, smelling woodsy and spicy. Y/n knew that scent now.

Chan moved past her, walking into the crowds towards his car as if she'd conjured him there out of her thoughts. She hadn't seen him around much since their shared breakdown in the tuning shop, but she was relieved to at least see that he was okay. Yn subconsciously realised she'd been coming around to him, albeit extremely slowly and warily.

Not to say she had forgiven him for what he'd done to Minho.

Y/n considered going after him suddenly, feeling a strange urge to reconnect with him the way they'd done in the garage. But she knew in her heart Chan wouldn't want to talk about it, especially since he'd been crying. She had a feeling most of the racers here weren't really into shows of affection or vulnerability unless it was shoving their tongues down the throats of the grid girls, who were currently swarming flirtatiously around a blonde-haired racer clad in jet black and blue.

Not that there was any time to reconnect with Chan anyway.

Jisung clapped her on the back, giving her a final, million-watt smile before disappearing behind her to enter his own car in the lineup. Y/n took a shaky breath and opened the car door of her own, sliding smoothly into the driver's seat. Her fingers found their place on the wheel, the cool leather sending an involuntary shiver up her spine. She closed her eyes tightly and tried to focus. Opening them again, trying to clear her head, Y/n glanced in her rearview mirror, noticing Jisung making his final adjustments in his seat. Y/n fought a tiny, fond laugh as he hit his elbow on the window frame, his lean top half temporarily disappearing as he keeled over dramatically at the pain.

Dragging her eyes away from her friend, Y/n glanced across to her left, noticing Chan clenching the wheel of his own car next to her. His sleek, dark Corvette was polished to an effortless shine, the red streamlining catching the multi-coloured lights sprinkled around the racetrack. He was wearing the exact same black and red racing suit he'd worn when she'd first ran into him, and Y/n cringed at the memory, remembering how she'd fallen straight onto her ass afterwards. She was also convinced that Chan probably slept in his racing suit at this point. She was about to smile at the thought, turning to look at him, when she realised he looked a lot more focused than usual.

No, not focused.

Tense.

Like he was worried about something.

Every single muscle was rigid and stiff. He kept shifting in his seat, his usual bravado disappearing completely as he fretted silently to himself, frowning every now and then. Y/n hastily redirected her gaze as Chan's eyes caught hers, her heart thudding at the unexpected glance.

A grating rev from her other side made Y/n jolt. Glaring at the racer to her left, Y/n's jaw dropped a little as she realised the racer who had been flirting with the grid girls was staring directly at her. Her glare disappeared as quickly as it had come, a sudden shyness and sense of inferiority crashing over her being. His car must have been the most expensive one on the track. The McLaren P1's sleek, deep blue body was decorated with vibrant, sky blue lightning strikes detailed in black and white. It was truly stunning.

So is the racer inside it, Y/n thought.

She promptly realised she'd been staring at the blonde-haired racer for some time now. He was doing the same, his dark, almost boyishly pretty eyes boring into Y/n's with an intensity that made her want to shrink into oblivion. His face was freckled, the blonde strands falling down over his forehead and nape in messy, loosely clustered strands. She could faintly see his roots growing out, the colour beneath the harsh dye a pleasant, dark, chocolatey brown.

Y/n watched, stupefied, as the racer smirked, a strand of pretty blonde hair falling into his face. He shook his head a little, shaking it out of the way, before cocking a confident eyebrow at her and smirking again, his tongue darting out to briefly touch his teeth. Heat flooded Y/n's cheeks at the expression, though she knew he was mocking her, nonverbally telling her to stay out of the way.

Out of his way, most likely.

She watched as he threw his head back and laughed, though she couldn't hear it from her car. It didn't seem like the friendly type of laugh, either. More derisive and taunting. Y/n's hands clenched involuntarily on the wheel and she looked straight ahead, trying to redirect her moral compass, and focus.

This would have been so much easier if Minho was here, she thought desperately. She leant forward a little and watched with hawk-like eyes as a grid girl sashayed onto the track, holding a single, black-and-white checkered flag. Y/n's heart thudded as she watched the girl raise the flag. Y/n glanced at Chan one more time before the flag dropped.

The instant the green signal flared, they were off.

Tires screeched against asphalt as the cars launched forward, engines roaring. The blonde-haired racer's car had already disappeared round a turn as soon as the signal flare had launched, and Y/n sputtered, faltering momentarily.

How had he gotten there so fast?

Recollecting herself, Y/n's heart leapt into her throat as she slammed her foot on the gas. The adrenaline surged through her veins as the world around her blurred, the car's momentum throwing her against the seat. Jisung's car sped past her, stuck in the middle between Chan's car and her own, but she strangely found she didn't mind. Jisung seemed to have enough skill to hold his own, and Y/n was far more focused and preoccupied on beating two particular cars.

Chan’s car surged ahead at first, taking an early lead like Y/n had always seen him do, with smooth confidence and practiced ease. Y/n glanced at her rearview mirror; she could already see the blonde racer's car coming up behind her. He was so incredibly fast that Y/n put him out of her mind, instead focusing on Chan's car beside her.

Forget about the hot blonde guy, she thought. I just have to place, and beat Chan.

Chan's car was faster, smoother, and Y/n could tell that he knew the track like the back of his hand. But Y/n stayed focused, her knuckles white against the wheel, refusing to be intimidated. She could feel the power beneath her, every turn and shift of the road pushing her to test her limits, and go beyond. She gritted her teeth and wrenched the wheel, eyes laser-focused on the track ahead and the cars vying to overtake her.

The cars whipped around tight corners, engines screaming, sparks flying as their bumpers almost brushed. Y/n inched closer, narrowing the gap between her car and Chan's. Her eyes flicked to the speedometer—she was pushing her car harder than ever.

Y/n saw Chan’s engine suddenly sputter, and his car jerking violently. The reckless revving dropped, and the smooth power that was seconds ago relied on faltered. His car slowed, losing speed, and within seconds, it was clear—his car was stalling.

Y/n's eyes instinctively flickered back and forth between the track ahead and Chan's car, now dropping behind her. She could see him beat his fist against the wheel, his expression wild and glaring. Her heart hammered against her chest as she grit her teeth, wondering if she should slow down. But regaining her rationality, she cast Chan one last glance and sped past, right behind Jisung and the blonde racer. Steeling her focus, she looked ahead at the finish line, the grid girl now standing on the side of the track, waving the checkered flag.

Her hands tightened on the wheel. This is it.

The finish line was in sight, the wind whipping past her, the crowd roaring as they saw her take the lead, directly behind the blonde. She sped ahead, leaving Chan and his stalling car behind.

Seconds later, Y/n crossed the line, the rush of her first placing victory flooding through her veins. She slammed on the brakes, coming to a hard stop, her heart pounding, barely believing what had just happened.

She turned the engine off and with clammy hands, opened the door, stumbling out. Her ankles and wrists ached with the exertion and her fingers hurt, like they had been molded to the steering wheel. She made a mental note to buy gloves and loosen her grip next time.

The thought flew out of Y/n's head as a large, lean figure tackled her in a hug, her hearing muffling temporarily along with the roars from the crowd. Jisung lifted her above the ground, his hair slick with sweat, eyes crinkled as he laughed. He shrieked, jumping up and down on the spot, Y/n jolting in his arms.

"You did it!" he cheered. "Even beat me and Chan. How's that for a proper race, uh?"

Y/n smiled, letting out a tentative, wheezy laugh, struggling in his grip.

"Thank you, Jisung, but I can't breathe-"

"Oh! Oh, sorry, sorry," he placed her back on the ground, readjusting the jacket from where he'd disheveled it. He grinned at her, running a gloved hand through his hair. The haphazardly neon, overexcited crowd bustled around them, jostling and shouting. "Better?"

Y/n nodded, relieved, just as she spotted a head of messy blonde hair. Peeking behind her friend, she noticed the blonde racer pushing and brushing his way through the crowd. She blurted out a half-hearted excuse to Jisung and disappeared into the mess of people, trying to keep him in her sight.

Finally making her way through to the other side of the crowd, Y/n inhaled in a much-needed breath of cold, slightly smoky air, and glanced around hastily, her eyes settling on the racer. He was a little way away, talking to a slim, well-dressed man with a stern face. Y/n stumbled past a crowd of flamboyantly dressed young women and came up beside him, panting slightly. The well-dressed man disappeared with a glance at her, just as the blonde racer turned to face her. Y/n's breath escaped her lungs in a low whoosh.

He was beautiful.

Stuttering slightly, and feeling like a common peasant in the presence of someone so ethereally charming, Y/n found she had temporarily lost the capacity for speech. Her words finally came out in a rather pathetic, stumbling mess of fragments.

"U-um, I just- wanted to say, that-"

The racer raised an eyebrow, his expression not unfriendly nor open. More... mildly irritated and hesitantly curious at the same time. Y/n was convinced she couldn't have pulled off the expression if she tried.

His voice broke through the charged, slightly smoky atmosphere, the tone and pitch of it deep and thick and smooth like honey.

"Yes?"

Y/n's knees almost buckled. His voice was rich and accented, like Chan's but just a little bit more so. Y/n noticed his freckles again, spotting the bridge of his nose and cheeks, his eyes veiled by long, dark lashes. There was a slighter larger freckle on the smooth curve of his cheekbone, shaped a little like a heart. She fought the sudden urge to smile at the cuteness of it and awkwardly cleared her throat.

"Um, congratulations. For winning the race."

Her words came out more composed than before. Y/n silently congratulated herself on being able to form a singular coherent sentence in front of this ethereal supermodel of a human being.

"Thank you."

Y/n fidgeted, unsure of what to do. She intertwined her fingers, trying not to make things awkward. The supermodel racer simply stared at her, tilting his head slightly, before reaching out and tugging lightly on the collar of her borrowed jacket. A jolt of fire seared through Y/n at the touch, though he had made no contact with her skin. Like a static shock.

"Stealing Jisung's things, hmm?"

Y/n stuttered. "He let me me borrow it. Uhm, for the race."

"I see. Congratulations to you too. Much better since your last try."

Y/n almost choked on her saliva, the humiliating memory of her first race resurfacing in her mind. Had he been watching her?

All this time?

The racer seemed to notice her assumption, because his eyes widened infinitesimally, his hands clenching into fists. Seemingly irritated, he huffed out a breath that felt more forced than genuine.

Must be to keep up an image, Y/n thought ruefully to herself. I bet he's a softie under all of it. Like Chan. I think.

The blonde's thick, velvety voice floated through the air to her again, this time tinted in clarity and begrudging respect.

"Don't get cocky, rookie."

"Okay."

The racer simply nodded, apparently deeming the conversation finished, and brushed past her into the crowd.

Y/n watched him go.

☆★☆

The crowd was like a human barrier; Y/n was pushing and stumbling her way through, trying to get back to Jisung. Suddenly turning around, she ran directly into someone, almost falling over backwards. Panic set in her chest as she stumbled, the jostling crowd around her doing nothing to help her regain her bearings or balance.

Y/n squeezed her eyes shut, bracing, just as a pair of strong arms coiled around her waist, warm and stable. Her feet caught themselves on the asphalt, and one foot hovered unsurely just above the ground. Y/n looked up at Chan.

He smiled ruefully. "Should have caught you the first time, uh?"

Y/n's heart dropped out from her ribcage, down her legs, and out of her ass. She flushed suddenly at the feeling of his arms around her waist, cheeks tingling with fire.

"Thanks," she managed to get out as Chan pulled her fully upright. He released his hold on her and Y/n's body almost followed him like a magnet, already feeling cold without his touch. A sense of bittersweet disappointment filled her stomach. She blinked, hard, before looking up at him, unsure of what to say. Was he upset he'd lost?

"Um, your car-"

"Don't worry about it," Chan's expression was unreadable.

Such a carefully constructed mask, Y/n thought. A lot like Minho's.

But where Minho's mask was gold and ivory, Chan's was silver and obsidian.

Opposites.

In every way, it seemed. Black and white. Light and dark. Like two knights from opposing kingdoms, standing for completely different things.

White knight and black knight.

Y/n snapped out of her thoughts, opening her mouth to speak. Chan beat her to it.

"I'm sorry."

What?

Y/n's dumbfounded expression must have betrayed her surprise, because Chan rolled his eyes, tapping his foot on the asphalt. He huffed, seemingly trying to steel himself, or keep his irritation in check. Knowing Chan as little as she did, she went ahead and assumed it was probably the latter.

"Just- I'm sorry. That I shouted at Minho in front of you, that I left the tuning shop so suddenly. I didn't mean to get so sentimental, just- memories, y'know?"

Y/n blinked, her capacity for speech returning from its brief holiday.

"Oh. Um- it's okay."

Chan blinked back at her, expression mildly surprised. His eyebrows shot up into his hairline, disbelieving. It was clear he hadn't been expecting to be forgiven.

"I thought you'd be pissed."

Y/n shrugged. "I was, but I let it go after a while. I forgive you. You know, if that's what you want to hear."

Chan's mouth formed a small, 'o' and Y/n's cheeks puffed up, trying to hold back a laugh.

"You look like a pufferfish," she snickered.

Chan flushed a light pink across his cheekbones and tutted once at her before hastily running a hand through his dark, sweat-slicked hair. Now that he was standing a little closer, Y/n could see the light bruising around his right eye showing through. She could see the light, careful smoothing of concealer over the sweat-sheened area and bit the inside of her cheek. A tiny patch of purple and green bloomed in faint patches at the corner of his eye, and to Y/n, it looked like it'd gotten worse since the last time they'd seen each other. Se glanced up at the racer, suddenly concerned, but decided not to say anything.

Chan suddenly opened his mouth to retort to her comment and was immediately tackled by a tornado with dirty blonde hair and a mesh shirt. He let out an oof and stumbled back a few steps, freezing as Jisung joyfully squeezed him around the middle. Chan exhaled before hesitantly patting Jisung on the back. Y/n chuckled.

"Y/n beat you," Jisung's voice was muffled, though it contained no small amount of glee.

Chan groaned. "Well spotted. Uh- you can let go now."

Jisung lifted his head from where it was buried in Chan's shoulder, and reluctantly let go, cheeks puffing out in a pout.

Y/n chuckled at her friend's antics and glanced at Chan. The crowd around her was beginning to feel suffocating.

"Let's go sit down."

☆★☆

Chan groaned as Jisung snatched his drink for the fourth time, laughing.

Y/n had dragged the both of them up into the bleachers, where they could watch the entire event without being crowded. The neon flashing lights and the screeching of the cars had dimmed, as if someone had draped a blanket over it, dulling the lights and colours and noises.

She dragged her gaze away from the arena below and turned her gaze to Jisung. He was busy scarfing down the rest of Chan's drink. Tossing it into a nearby bin, he turned to her with a cheeky grin. Chan groaned and shoved him lightly, displeased with the theft of his refreshment, sending Jisung into a fit of laughter.

Looking down at the arena again, Y/n replayed the events of the night. The blonde haired racer popped into her mind, and she turned to Jisung suddenly, curious.

"Jisung?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you, um- there's this blonde haired racer, he was next to me in the lineup. Do you maybe know who he is? He had the McLaren with the lightning strikes on it."

Jisung nodded thoughtfully. Chan was preoccupied, running calloused fingertips over the thick silver chain on his wrist. He looked up in interest just as Jisung spoke.

"Blonde hair, McLaren, lightning strikes... sounds like someone we know, huh, Chan?"

Chan rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat. The night breeze blew his dark hair black, the wind running its cool fingers through the sweat-dried locks.

"Oh, we know him all right."

Jisung grinned cheekily, chuckling. "Chan hates him because he's a better racer."

"I do not. And he's not that good."

"Mhm, totally..."

"Oh, shut up, Jisung."

The younger boy laughed, holding up his hands in defence, leaning away from Chan. The shit-eating grin on Jisung's face was wiped away by a swift, sharp slap to the upside of his head. He groaned and flopped dramatically to the arena floor. Y/n, meanwhile, just blinked softly, unbothered by their antics.

"What's his name?" she asked inquisitively.

Chan huffed, stretching out his long legs in front of him before propping them up on the seat in front. His voice was gravelly.

"Lee Felix."

a/n: i planned to post this a month ago but oops. also felix introduction yay !

tuck your innocence goodnight

i repainted this piece in honour of season 2 announcements coming out! can't wait to see my little gutterpunk in action again

Cute cakes appreciation post