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stray-lily · 1 year

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[23:40]: Maknae on Top

-businessman/gang leader I.N.!au -bodyguards chan and changbin!au -an au basically inspired by the maknae on top mv

word count: 2k warnings: a sassy maknae, weapons (only mentioned)

"I truly believe we could have a strong alliance, Yang."

The desperate man didn't hear the scoff of the young man opposite to him at the meeting table. How could he, especially over that erratic heartbeat?

Twelve were seated at the dark wood table, the opposite end of the table filled by the thirteenth, the speaker. The room was sealed and monitored with backup systems upon backup systems, along with many other protocols Yang Jeongin didn't care to know the details of. They were, of course, created by his most trusted bodyguards. One of them stood just behind Jeongin's seat, his arms crossed in front of him to conceal the handgun he kept on him. The other was patrolling the floors in case this man decided to try anything like a fool would.

Jeongin pegged this one, out of everyone in the room, to be such a fool. He appeared an outsider, too, glancing around for a sense of comfort that this place would never give him. His lack of respect for the young businessman led him to wonder if he was used to being the top man in his neck of the woods.

It was time someone put him in his place.

Jeongin crooked his head, still scowling intensely at the man. While he was able to hide his shaking body in that navy suit, he was a menace at hiding the waver in his voice. Was he even trying?

The man, as expected, couldn't hold his eyes with Jeongin's, instead flicked them around to the other suited men in the room. He's worse than the receptionist.

Not many could stand his sharp eyes for long. Granted, he had a resting face to compliment the piercing eyes, but he nonetheless found it to become a little game. It was one of the few things he found amusement in anymore.

The ones that held his gaze longer? Those were who he tended to take interest in. Like his guards—CB and Spear, as their codes called them. They both kept their full names a secret from everyone but Jeongin himself. Even those coded names were secret to anyone on the right side of the law, being mere ghostly rumors to officers. Like the woman on the third floor.

No, he scowled deeper, not realizing the man flinched with fear of saying a wrong word he didn't recall. This is not about her, nor will it ever be.

"A-and this alliance, Yang, would ensure a-a rise in our respective shares..."

Oh, he was still rambling? Jeongin had a hard time not rolling his eyes.

This was the fifth time the man had referred to him by that family name. Yes, he was young for such a position as the head of his family's company. Age was no excuse for the biting manner he spoke that name, loathing to have to plead for this alliance. But the way she spoke it...

Knock it off.

"You seem on edge, sir," a new voice rose in the tense room, where thirteen pairs of eyes shift their gazes to. Was this the advisor? Jeongin could've laughed—even the advisor was fed up with the sickly, whining rant of the shaky man.

He stood and, placing a hand on his pectoral and extending the other to his chair, cued Navy Suit to sit. But Jeongin's eyes narrowed.

For a brief moment, the equally rare and infamous hook tattoo was visible just above his wrist. The dark ink didn't stand out as much against his leathery skin, but Jeongin would recognize it anywhere.

It begged the question, did his grey suit truly betray him, or did the man want him to see?

He'd have to speak with CB about it, then fill Spear in later. Jeongin held no doubt that he recognized the marking, too. Very few details like that went past his radar, even mentioning the smallest changes he saw in Jeongin when something was wrong—the man had eyes like a hawk.

Both guards were formidable allies in a world such as this.

"If I may, sir," the advisor continued, stepping from behind the other to the other end of the table, taking the spot far more comfortably than the other had. "I believe Mr. Wilfred wished to appease you amidst his ramblings." Navy Suit's ears flushed beet red, others chuckled. "He spoke so long and so quick because, as we all know, I imagine, your reputation precedes you, sir..."

The gentleman trailed off, spinning his own flourish on the exact words Navy Suit—right, Wilfred—just said. But, Jeongin had to admit, his voice was much smoother to the ears.

His honeyed voice likely was how he worked his way up to the strings around Wilfred, as even Jeongin, who admittedly wasn't paying much attention to either, could pick up on the similarities to each set of words. Not a puppet nor its master were welcome anywhere near his secrets—but they didn't need to learn that.

The advisor's mouth moved, but Jeongin still didn't listen. CB could fill him in on anything important, if there was any.

He forced himself to focus again when the unmistakable, glowering growl of his guard rumbles in his ear. That rumble was always a warning: the next move he'd make would be for his gun or knife, each to kill.

Jeongin realized that he'd been following the gentleman with unfocused eyes. He stood at the border of too close—couldn't he see the annoyance laced in his eyes? Everyone else could, apparent by the way they sucked in and held their breaths.

"So?" The advisor looked down at Jeongin, standing with his hands clasped in front of him, poised with a disgusting confidence that made the younger raise a brow. "Can we shake a deal, sign the date this alliance was formed?"

Jeongin was always good at controlling the puppet masters.

With a fake half-smile, he lied through his teeth. "Allow me a copy of all of your papers, let me speak it over with a few others privately, and we'll talk."

The puppet master smiled, proud of the shape of his lies, unaware that the lies he's been fed have only just begun.

Jeongin dismissed the group, accepting the bow the puppet master and his puppet gave him with a forward tilt of his head. Hopefully, one or both of them would do something that would warrant a strike by a faceless gang leader that was in power long before Jeongin took the business over. I.N., the leader called himself, and that was a name whispered in most every meeting. What if this turns I.N.'s gaze to us next? Would he target us?

How amusing those comments were, as the very leader they feared was in the same room as they were. Hiding in plain sight.

"Be honest," CB said after the door closed behind the last man, using that voice that Jeongin knew all-too-well. "How much of that did you listen to?"

"Minimal, my friend."

He rolled his eyes. "They're gone. You know you can—"

"Ah, ah! Someone might be listening."

"Still paranoid, I see," he replied in that gruff voice people seemed to swoon over. He was endlessly ogled at by men and women alike, sometimes he'd flirt back, but it never interfered with his job. Jeongin respected that more than he thought he would.

"I'm still alive, am I not?" He challenged the other by raising a brow. He's delightfully met by the silence of his guard, who began the sweep of the room for any sort of foreign devices.

Moments after the search was proven empty, a knock rapped against the door. Three, Jeongin imagined CB would note, sharp and quick.

CB opened the door, his dark clothing moving around him and heavy boots being surprisingly quiet. He peered through before opening it wider. Spear walked through, tugging a young woman behind him that looked rather lean next to his built form.

She was tall, maybe a few centimeters shorter than CB if she stood next to him, but that didn't stop her from wearing heeled boots with her neat attire. Jeongin knew who she was the moment she shifted her gaze from the muscular guard to him.

The woman from floor three.

"I think you'll want to hear her out," Spear said, though it sounded more throaty with the faint irritancy that rolled off of him. She seemed to pick up on that, too. Did something happen in their encounter?

Jeongin wondered if she was anything like that receptionist in the rare times that one's been with all three in a room. It didn't seem that way when she had to deliver things to his office, but still. Would this woman fantasize a pleasurable night with the three? Or would she shake like a leaf the minute she was in their limelight?

She saw Spear's phrase as her cue to step out from behind the guard, stealing her wrist from his hard grasp. Seems neither aroused nor fearful. Nice change. She held up her phone with a poorly lit photo that made Jeongin frown.

"Why would I want to see a bad photo of a desk?"

"Not the desk," she said, sighing deeply with it. "What's against the leg and the underside."

Jeongin scowled at her tone, but looked anyway. If Spear said it was worth it, it was. He trusted him.

Just as she said, between the angle where the underside of the writing desk met the straight board acting as a leg was a thin black cube.

"Where is this?"

"The spare desk by the stairs, sir. The one company guests use. I was asked to tidy up after one of the last guests when I noticed it."

Jeongin tilted his head. "And is it with you?"

"I didn't remove it, no. Seems someone thought that was an ideal spot to monitor, and you can't track a destroyed device." She covered her phone with her hands, clasped gracefully in front of her. Her shoulders were rolled back comfortably, and she held Jeongin's sharpening gaze as it was. "As it's your company, I hoped to tell you in person, sir, so it would be dealt with as you saw fit."

"You spoke to no one else of this before you found him?" Jeongin's eyes flicked to Spear, alluding to who he referred to without saying the forbidden name.

"No one, sir."

Perhaps she could become his set of eyes and ears. She wouldn't be nearly as intimidating as his guards. She'd be able to creep around where the three of them would not be able to so as easily.

"Good."

Jeongin paused, flicking his eyes to Spear first. His arms were crossed over, showing off the muscular arms he used to slightly envy. The familiar scowl was prominent on his face, even if it was partially shrouded partially by a mask. It was the slightest shift of his chin down that let him know he was likely thinking similarly.

He looked at CB next. He was much easier to read than Spear but held an equally intimidating scowl that few could read beyond. He grit his jaw, more apprehensive in the young man's idea that he no doubt caught on to. But CB knew the other side of the law better than any of the three—he was, of course, raised far outside it—and he knew the importance of subtle, trusted intel.

He turned back to the young woman. She stood just as strong as she did before, but her gaze darted between the three men more often than before. She caught on to the presence of a silent conversation, but seemed wary of what it could be about.

Mind set, Jeongin tipped his head down to stare at her face. He was surprised how quickly she met it, and how firmly she stayed matched it. He let one side of his lip lift softly before speaking in a low tone.

"How are you with secrets?"

—

a/n: a friend of mine got this bop stuck in my head again so i decided to roll fully with it and do a gang leader/businessman i.n.-with-bodyguards-au of sorts :) and as a tall stay, i had to include a tall gal😅

idk i kinda like how it turned out...part of me wants to make this into a full series (whelp)

and 230208—happy IN day! this has been in my drafts for a number of months (whoops) and i don't think there's a better time to post it :) a happy birthday to our baby bread <3

hope you enjoyed this little distraction from life! take care loves! -nyx <3

#yang jeongin #jeongin #in #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #timestamp #original #fanfic #maknae on top #short #short fic #stray kids au #stray kids i.n.#stray kids jeongin #kpop fanfic #stray kids yang jeongin #gang leader au #happyINday #skz

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stray-lily · 1 year

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// Home for the Holidays

self-insert gn reader, all members included, a wholesome little fic

happy holidays everyone!

disclaimer: names, places, etc. are from my mind and/or are used in a fictional manner and should not be taken as reality. I do not own Stray Kids and their characters in this story are not necessarily accurate to their real-life selves.

word count: 1.6k

After many weeks of promoting, performing, and producing, the day of their official break finally arrived.

While it wasn't quite long enough to travel long distances, they were still content with the break. Even if it meant they wouldn't be interacting with their Stays as often, their break would hopefully let their fans rest as well.

Well, there was at least one Stay that wouldn't be resting.

An old friend of theirs, y/n was eager to see their borderline-insane friends (even if they definitely acted the same, but that's not important now). They all planned to decorate the boys' dorm with an ornamental tree and other little trinkets—anything else that followed would be a free-for-all of chaos.

"Oh, you guys really want a hug today, don't you?" Through the phone screen, another live Channie's Room began to close. He turned the volume of a lovely song down while glancing over the rapid-fire comments.

He stood from his chair and gave his camera a big hug, something that always made you giggle. One of the members snuck into his studio to record that very moment on their phone some time ago, sending it to the group chat, and he looked a bit awkward to say the least. Mostly trying not to knock things over, the fluffball of a man wasn't a natural camera-hugger. But the sweet action never went unappreciated by the fans.

"Thank you, Stays," Chan smiled, now back in his chair, and posed in his signature sign-off. "Thank you, baby Stays. And I'll see you next time! Bye-bye!"

With that, the live ends.

And you immediately send Chan a message.

y/n: Channie! Get some rest too :( you're being a hypocrite if you keep telling us to rest when you don't

[delivered: 23:10]

You flop on your bed and bury yourself under the covers. The snowy wind makes itself known, creating an annoyingly cold area in by the window.

Though it takes a long time to fall asleep with all the bubbling excitement of seeing the boys again so soon, you sleep dreamlessly. That is, until your morning alarm—the instrumental intro to Ex—goes off.

You listen to it for a while, humming some of the lyrics, before shutting it off. On your screen is a message from Chan.

chrispy: i know, i know but i had too many ideas :( see you soon!

[received: 03:25]

Dang it, Chan.

It's still snowing when you look out your window, though the wind seems nonexistent at least. You dress warmly and take your bag to the main room, where Dad finishes making pancakes and Mom reads a novel with a cup of hot coffee.

"Morning, y/n," Mom greets cheerfully with a sip of her drink.

"Morning!"

"You meeting up with the kids today?" Dad asks while you dish up a bit of breakfast. Kids, isn't that accurate.

"Yes, hon, she told us last night at dinner. And the night before." Mom sets down her book with an amused twinkle in her gaze.

"Did she?"

"She did."

"Ah. Pancake?"

You smile at them, though it disappears the more you eat and distract yourself.

The faux tree your family put up a few weeks ago stands brightly in the living room, a few wrapped packages underneath it shimmering with the colorful lights. Wintery-themed decorations fill the house, most of which is in the kitchen, living, and dining room. The most recent is a string of cut paper snowflakes—another folded strand of them being safely secured in your bag.

"You have everything you need?" Mom asks once you finish your food, beginning to pour her second cup of molten caffeine.

"I think so. Yennie said they have most of what we'll need when I texted him, also mentioned that Chan and Lix were getting an excessive amount of lights."

"Can I trust you to be the reasonable one?" Dad leans over the counter with his hands folded in front of him dramatically.

"Yes, Dad. I'll do my best to steal both brain cells, one if I'm lucky."

"And if you can't?"

"Then it might become Lord of the Flies, minus a plane crash and plus sleep deprivation."

"Stick to stealing a brain cell, yeah?"

"You two," Mom murmurs and shakes her head with a smile.

Checking the clock, it's close to eleven. You take your dish and utensils to the sink and wash them, placing them on the drying rack as Dad starts to put away leftover pancakes in containers. He hands a larger one to you (as a peace offering in case you couldn't get the brain cell) after you pull on your puffy winter coat.

"Have fun," Mom calls out as she fills a pitcher to water her poinsettias before her coffee cools. "I love you!"

"Bye, y/n! Good luck!"

"Hon!"

"What?"

You close the door and turn the key to lock it. You slip the key around the necklace chain back under your coat, knowing fully well that if it was loose in your bag, you'd never find it.

The snow is light, but a breeze still chills the air. Luckily the sun decided to peek out from behind the grey, warming everything considerably.

You walk the familiar streets, slipping on a mask as you get closer to your destination. While their residence was fairly undisclosed, you didn't want to risk anything. There would always be the sasaengs you didn't want to cross and a media you wanted no part of. Idols dealt with enough as it is—you didn't want to fuel a fire with a photo.

On the last stretch of the walk, you make sure to be more careful. You walk as inconspicuously as you can, walking inside the complex as casually as you can as well. You reach the boys' door and knock after sending an I'm here to the group text.

Minho opens the door, whom you greet politely with a hello and a bow before he pulls you inside (with a muttered question of why you always greeted him that way, followed by your uncertainty of how to say that his demeanor was intimidating enough that you still felt like you had to).

In front of you lies the beginning snippets of chaos.

With the Aussie leader limp on the couch, Han and Felix run around as the likely aftermath of some snarky comment (or game of Uno, as the package sits on a table nearby). Oddly enough, they're the only three in the present room, leaving four sources of unequivocal chaos unaccounted for.

One said sources grumbles, shuffling out of the hall to the boys' rooms. Hyunjin has to step back to avoid being hit by the duo chasing one another. Sleepily, he looks back to their disappearing figures, then to the living room. He turns back to the hallway and shuffles away, muttering something like it's too early.

Minho drops his head with a sigh and goes off to follow Hyunjin. He and Felix nearly collide on the way.

"Chan, Chan!" The younger shakes the leader's shoulder.

He grumbles, scrunching his face sleepily, and moves to sit upright.

"Hyung," Felix pokes Chan's shoulder. "Y/n didn't visit to watch you sleep all day. She even brought food, come on!"

It takes a while for everyone to wake up and join the huddle forming around the couch. Felix already dug into one of the peace-offering pancakes happily. Minho drags a groggy Hyunjin in, who takes a few sips from Jisung's bitter iced coffee.

Felix, seeming the most awake for the moment, carries in a bag weighed down with various lights. He drops it in the middle of the floor, instructing you all to put them up wherever you could while he wanders off to bake with Seungmin's aid.

In the bag are little decorative snowflakes and snowmen, along with little gnomes that Felix admits he couldn't pass ("they were too cute," he pouts). Someone puts a playlist on shuffle—not 'holiday' music, as you had gotten tired of hearing the repeated songs in public buildings since they began in November.

Chan and Jeongin start decorating the tree with lights and more snowflake ornaments. Jisung continues to bug Hyunjin for snatching his caffeinated drink. Seungmin and Felix intermittently exchange bringing brownies out for people to try, as fresh brownies are best warm. Changbin moves between natural gatherings, helping where needed, until he settles on bugging Minho.

Outside, the snow continues falling steadily.

Once the decorations were in place, the treats were made, and the chaos settled, Jeongin called everyone around the tree with a wide grin.

"Drumroll, please!"

After a few moments, Chan plugs the lights in with a ta da!

The LEDs shimmer against the clear plastic of the geometric snowflakes. At the top of the tree is a compass—a small nod to the song of theirs that remains one of your favorite comforts to date.

The rest of the night is filled with laughter and the usual chaos of the kids. Off-tune karaoke and more schemes by the younger ones (this time, another attempt to reset Changbin's phone) ensue until you find you have to return home.

Today was fun. There was a different comfort in being with this set of friends, and you were glad you could know them this way.

After hugs, well-wishes of a safe walk, and a few promises to get some sleep, you walk back home.

Though the sun just barely set by the time you got back, the house is empty. Your parents left a note that they'd be back later—they decided to take after you and visit friends, too. That made you smile.

With the house to yourself, you grab a snack and a drink and retire to your room to recharge your social battery, settling on rewatching old videos of your friends and fan compilations of their comforting chaos.

—

a/n: a simple short story to distract you if you need it. happy holidays! whatever you do or don't celebrate, whoever you're with, i hope you enjoy it! if you're with *that* family that has drama, i wish you patience and luck, and you can get though it and dont worry, i'm in that same boat this year :/

ily dear human

-nyx ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

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