#stray kids collab call

[sunkissedchld]

𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃

𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒍𝒍 𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒏 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

the piles go from left to right. therefore, pile one has the silver airpods, pile two is the pink cord phone, and so on and so forth.

take your time to use your intuition to choose the pile that will best resonate with you. lastly, please don't be afraid to say if the message resonated or not; it helps me in determining if my interpretations are correct or not, and i appreciate any sort of feedback - even if it's "bad".

this PAC is a collab with @icanseethefuture333, so be sure to check out their post also!

good luck to you, reader 🌷

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈

Signs:

"i don't forgive you", harboring anger towards someone, heavy fire (aries, leo, sagittarius) in birth chart, red, passion, danger, hera, broken marriages/family, non-committal, metatron, spiritual power, turtles, tigers, turkeys. broken headphones, "you're not listening"

Shufflemancy:

"Montero (Call Me By Your Name)" by Lil Nas X

"Another One Bites the Dust" by Queen

"Blow Us All Away" from Hamilton the Musical

"Intro" by J. Cole

"Angels We Have Heard on High" by Pentatonix

"Sorry, I Love You" by Stray Kids

Cards:

Four of Cups, Knight of Cups (Rx), Six of Swords (Rx), Two of Wands, Five of Wands, Seven of Coins, The Fool (Rx), Turtle (Rx), Tiger, Turkey

Reading:

For those who chose pile one, one lesson you will encounter will be in regards to you seemingly sitting on the sidelines in life. At one point, you may feel disconnected and apathetic about life; you may think, "what's the point of doing what I'm doing if I'm not seeing any results for it." There will be times when people will try to help you enjoy life more instead of being moody and unhappy with what you're doing, but J. Cole says it best when he asks, "do you wanna be happy?". Someone might literally ask you that (or people have done so in the past), and you often say "no" without saying no by not taking action to be happy. 

Those who chose this pile may have a lot of unresolved emotional baggage they refuse to acknowledge, but your lesson will be in recognizing that baggage and unloading it. You may have been resisting a transition period in your life for as long as possible, and in 2024 that won't be allowed anymore. Saying "no" to happiness will not be an option; you will be thrown into tackling your anger, former traumas, apathy about life, etc. head on. The only real thing you can decide at this point is whether or not you're going to plan for it now that you know it's coming or allow life to take you through it however ough that may be. 

You will be pushed to be competitive about what it is you want. There may be a lot of conflict, and you may even feel jealous of others at one point; you may think, "why is it that my growth and transition is so much harder compared to everyone else's?". There may even be a point during the year where you feel as if you're guides or the universe or whoever/whatever you believe in isn't listening to you, but the truth is everyone experiences growing pains, and you have to figure out how to persevere and get over your fears the same way everyone else does. As stated before, refusing to grow and transition is not an option, but your attitude as you experience it is a choice you make; you can make it easier or harder on yourself by having an open mind. 

This year, you will be going from being a turtle to a tiger. You will no longer be allowed to take your time in regards to things in your life that are keeping you from growing into someone who is healthier and happier: mentally, physically, emotionally, and everywhere else. You will be stepping into your own power and your attitude will determine if you step into it gracefully or not. Overall, your lesson will be in learning how to free yourself from your own chains.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈

Signs:

"be free", the sun, heavy fixed sign energy, ceres, gemini, pluto, neptune, feeling disconnected from venus placement, having trouble speaking, 111, manifestations, "coming in", "i'm walking", "be realistic", mercedes, goose/geese

Shufflemancy:

“Love Like Woe” by The Ready Set

“One Step At a Time” by Jordin Sparks

“Are You That Somebody” by Aaliyah

“This World” by Ateez

“Can You Stand the Rain” by New Edition

“What Comes Next?” from Hamilton the Musical

Cards:

Eight of Coins (Rx), King of Swords (Rx), Five of Wands (Rx), The Hanged Man, King of Coins, Seven of Coins, The Sun, Fixed, Ceres, Sagittarius (Rx), 111, Mercury (Rx), Venus (Rx), Neptune, Pluto

Reading:

If you chose this pile, your lesson for the year deals with your self-worth and self-determination. “One Step At a Time” by Jordin Sparks seems to fit your energy best for this next year. It seems some of this energy may be lingering from last year also, but during 2024 you may feel as if you’re doing a lot of work but receiving no benefits from it. Eventually, this lack of success and recognition could wear on you, and you could wonder if what all you’re doing is even worth it. With your work, it could seem as if you do so much, but it’s just not quite enough to other people - even if you’re trying your absolute hardest. You could end up feeling unappreciated and as if you’re not advancing anywhere. 

It seems someone could be turning people away from you. For some people, this is a literal person who you may get along with, but you don’t really confront them when it comes to what they’re doing. For others of you, this is the universe purposefully blocking things from you because you’re trying to speed up the time you get certain things, and it’s telling you, “this isn’t how that works”. Regardless, there is someone or something in a higher position keeping you from reaching the success you think you deserve. This conflict will frustrate you throughout the year, and it could prove difficult for you to deal with. 

With the Hanged Man and Five of Wands (Rx), you’re being asked to compromise and re-think why you think you deserve recognition or success in a certain way. Is your reasoning valid or in good faith? Is your way really the only way you can gain what it is you’re wanting? Is what you’re wanting the best for you? I’m reminded of the meme (I guess is what it is) where a little girl is holding a small teddy bear or something, and Jesus is asking her to give it to Him, and she’s refusing, but the audience can see that He has an even bigger teddy bear for her; I feel like this will represent how your success for this year will be. You may have one view of how you want it, but that result keeps getting pushed back or thwarted because you’re thinking too small. 

The action of patience will be your most important lesson this year. “Can You Stand the Rain” fits really well for this closing part of the reading. You will be learning how to wither the storm of seemingly being overlooked and having your ideas of abundance not being given to you how and when you want in exchange for even better and more success to meet you at the end. As is always said, “patience is a virtue”.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈𝐈

Signs:

222, swan, itchy left palm, losing items, “i’m so sorry”, prominent sagittarius and/or gemini placements, heavy mutable energy, neptune dominant or many aspects to neptune, ducks, water, lust for nostalgia, being lost in your memories

Shufflemancy:

“In Love with Another Man” by Jazmine Sulllivan

“needy” by Ariana Grande

“Halazia” by Ateez

“Home” by Todrick Hall

“6 Foot 7 Foot” by Lil Wayne (feat. Corey Gunz)

“Put It On Da Floor Again” by Latto (feat. Cardi B)

Cards:

Queen of Cups (Rx), Six of Cups (Rx), Ace of Wands, Ten of Coins, The Sun, Six of Coins, The Emperor, Memories (Rx), Mutable (Rx), Sagittarius (Rx), Planetary Retrograde (Rx)

Reading:

For those choosing pile three, your lesson during the year will relate to you recognizing yourself more. Those who chose this pile may feel disconnected from their emotions or feel very emotionally drained last year and entering the new year. You may be very used to letting people utilize you in their lives however they want while when it comes to you needing people, they often are away or too busy to care about you. You could be prone to co-dependent relationships where you feel like you need to be needed or of help to someone and they to you, but you let them give you the bare minimum while you give your all. 

Earlier, I thought you might be someone who doesn’t like remembering things or has a hard time with their memory, but it’s actually the opposite! You’re someone who loves to get lost in the past and what used to be; the song “Could’ve Been” by H.E.R feels relevant. For some reason the energy for this pile feels very connected to a relationship that you may miss during the year. It seems you will eventually come to the realization that you’re losing yourself to the past and recognize you need to garner up the willpower to keep going for the present. You will gain the energy to begin doing things for yourself instead of for the sake of pleasing others. You will be recognizing how important you are to yourself, and/or you will be building up that importance. 

During this year, you will be building a new foundation where you do things for you. You will be focusing on your own growth and prioritizing self-care. You will learn how to put your happiness above other people's, which might be an issue you have been avoiding for a while. Rather than relying on others for emotional stability and to qualify your self-worth, you will likely end up doing a ton of introspection to discover what makes you happy solo. If you’re someone who is chronically in relationships, you may take a well-needed break in order to discover yourself like you’ve been putting off doing. 

Overall, your lesson for the new year involves being your own rock so to speak. You will be learning how to set boundaries to protect yourself from people who are no good for you because they want to be like vampires in using you. Instead, you will focus on yourself and your ideals, wants, desires, and emotions. Your lesson this year will be learning how to focus on you.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐕

Signs:

having a lot of conjunctions in natal or solar return chart, heavy fixed energy, being born on a new moon, heavy uranus energy, “i don’t forgive you”, heavy fourth house placements and energy, “i don’t forgive you”, (oak) trees, miracles, unicorns

Shufflemancy:

“Focus” by Ariana Grande

“Hello” by J. Cole

“Lonely St.” by Stray Kids

“On It” by Jazmine Sullivan (feat. Ari Lennox)

“Another One Bites the Dust” by Queen

“New Money” by Leikeli47

Cards:

Ace of Cups, Four of Coins, The Devil, Temperance, Knight of Coins, King of Cups, Judgement, The Fool, Conjunction, Fixed, New Moon, Uranus, 4H, Trees, Miracles

Reading:

Those choosing this final pile, your lessons this year may relate to embracing new beginnings and a fresh start. For you, I’m reminded of all these rituals people are engaging in as we all enter the new year: eating black eyed peas, not washing clothes, having someone with money enter the house first, eating grapes under a table at midnight, and everything else. It seems you’re in the energy of “new year, new me”! With that, your lessons seem to relate to putting that quote to the test and seeing if you’re actually ready to embrace what comes with newness. 

You could be losing things and people this year; maybe you fall out with certain people in your friend group, or you lose your job, or you graduate from school, or you’ll find a whole new group of friends. In general, the concept of not getting so attached to things or people to the point where you’re unwilling to separate from them comes to mind. Not that you can’t also develop strong attachments and relationships! But, when it’s time to let a situation or person go do not spend so much time trying to get them to stay. “When it’s time to go; it’s time to go”. 

Do not become obsessive about things and people you come into contact with this year. The phrase, “there’s a time and season for everything” is very important! “Be flexible” is the best advice I could give for those reading this pile. Being flexible does not entail not working hard though; find a balance between being hardworking and putting in effort and also being open to change and loss. There is a major emphasis on balance and being in control when it comes to your emotions but also overall this year. 

Overall, your lessons deal with being open to the change that comes with a new year and declaring that you’re ready for new things. You still need to put in work and go about life and strive to achieve what it is you want - in relationships, friendships, work, your daily life, and more, but you also need to be willing to let people and things go when the universe tells you they’re no longer serving or helping you. Truly, be open to the new beginnings you’re saying you want. 

#tarot #oracle #pick a card #PAC #sunkissedchld #tarotblr #spotify #Spotify

[kkurades]

NEW JEANS ━━━━━ stray kids mini smau series

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

CELEBRITY CRUSHES is someone everyone dreams to be with despite the ridiculousness and reality but what happens when the stray kids members actually have a shot with their celebrity crush?

genres: idol!stray kids, famous!fem!reader, smau, fluff, crack, angst?

warning: profanity, dark humour

author’s note: i love love love making smau’s but I often lose interest & want to start a new one so this seemed like a perfect idea! + yesterday was my birthday so i decided to do something different :D (btw all these smau’s will be ab 5-10 parts bc it’s a mini smau)

last updated: july 30th, 2023

tag list: @alyszaen, @soulphoenix1618, @what-the-y2k, @miin17, @kuic0re ( open )

pairing: idol!bang chan x rapper!fem!reader

genres: idol au, smau, written, fluff, crack, colleagues to friends to lovers

summary: chan can’t remember a time where he wasn’t enchanted by you. your looks, voice and lyrics verses always managed to capture his heart so when he found out that you were a fan of 3racha he just had to collab with you and hopefully make you fall in love with him just like he is with you.

status: ongoing

CHAN’S CELEBRITY CRUSH — ASAP !!

pairing: idol!lee minho x dancer!fem!reader

genres: idol au, smau, written, fluff, crack, strangers to colleagues to lovers

summary: minho has been a fan of yours ever since he found out about you which was back in his bts back dancer era. so when he finally debuted in what grew to be one of the most successful kpop groups he prayed that you would deem them good enough to work together and it seemed like his prayers and wishes were answered when he found you stretching in the studio at four am in the morning.

status: upcoming

MINHO’S CELEBRITY CRUSH — ATTENTION !!

pairing: idol!seo changbin x boxer!fem!reader

genres: idol au, smau, written, fluff, crack, strangers to friends to lovers

summary: changbin felt like crying when you got heavily injured during a fight which meant that you would go on a break for a few months to rest but you were apparently quite restless because not even three weeks after the statement of your hiatus you seemed to follow jeongin around as his new bodyguard for the time being and he couldn’t help but try and grab his only chance at love with you.

status: upcoming

CHANGBIN’S CELEBRITY CRUSH — HYPEBOY !!

pairing: idol!hwang hyunjin x model!fem!reader

genres: idol au, smau, written, fluff, crack, strangers to friends to lovers

summary: hyunjin was never able to speak coherently whenever he was in the same room as you which wasn’t very often. fortunately he often had the opportunity to go to events that you attended and his dreams came true when he found out that you were willing to do a photoshoot with him the only problem is that couldn’t properly speak around you.

status: upcoming

HYUNJIN’S CELEBRITY CRUSH — SUPER SHY !!

pairing: idol!han jisung x actress!reader

genres: idol au, smau, written, fluff, crack, slight!angst, strangers to lovers

summary: jisung was proud to call himself your biggest fan. he watched every drama you played in and replayed your interviews multiple times a day. the other members had gotten sick of it after two years straight so chan decided to pull some strings to surprise jisung on his birthday and much to his delight you seemed to be enchanted by him what a shame that you already have a boyfriend.

status: upcoming

JISUNG’S CELEBRITY CRUSH — GET UP !!

pairing: idol!lee felix x streamer!fem!reader

genres: idol au, smau, written, fluff, crack, strangers to friends to lovers

summary: felix has a usual daily routine. he does his job, comes home, sits down in his gaming chair and watches your videos and lives any time he can. but it wasn’t enough for him anymore so on valentines he decided to risk it and send you a bouquet of flowers with a number written on a card hidden between it. now he could only hope that you would be curious enough to text him.

status: upcoming

FELIX’S CELEBRITY CRUSH — ZERO !!

pairing: idol!kim seungmin x ice skater!fem!reader

genres: idol au, smau, written, fluff, crack, strangers to lovers

summary: seungmin had only ever been able to admire you through a screen because of his busy schedules. so when he found out that one of his acquaintances was your best friend he just had to ask him for help. the only problem is that sunghoon didn’t do favours for free.

status: upcoming

SEUNGMIN’S CELEBRITY CRUSH — OMG !!

pairing: idol!yang jeongin x fashion designer!fem!reader

genres: idol au, smau, written, fluff, crack, strangers to lovers

summary: jeongin would do anything for you, even beg chan and their manager to do a collab with your brand. fortunately they thought it would be a good idea because of your worldly known, luxe clothing brand. now the only thing that was left to do was try and convince your stubborn assistant to give them a chance and let them collaborate with your brand but lucky for them you were hooked the moment jeongin found your very beloved missing pet.

JEONGIN’S CELEBRITY CRUSH — DITTO !!

new jeans © kkurades, 2023.

#✩ ° ｡ new jeans #kpop smau #stray kids masterlist #stray kids social media au #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids smau #stray kids social au #skz x reader #skz #bangchan smau #bang chan x reader #lee know smau #lee know x reader #changbin smau #changbin x reader #hyunjin smau #hyunjin x reader #han jisung smau #han jisung x reader #felix smau #felix x reader #seungmin smau #seungmin x reader #jeongin smau #jeongin x reader

[bellastay99]

STRAY KIDS WHEN..

(fem!reader + SKZ)

You deny his kiss request

❤️ HYUNG LINE ❤️

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Bangchan

He'll judge you and himself

Did he make something wrong?

Are you teasing?

Are you in a bad mood?

Why?

Whhhyy?

-🐺-

*at the waiting room, Chan is sitting on the chair before the performance, he saw coming in his direction while texting on the phone*

Chan- Bae...give me a good lucky kiss *pout*

You- Ah...? *Stop still looking at the phone*

Chan- A kiss...

You- Later...*look up* Hyunjin what did said to my mother?! *Walk away*

Chan:

Changbin- *holding his laugh* Emotional daaaamage~ *little dance*

Chan- She'll see the damage at home...

Changbin- *extremely surprised with the answer* Whaaa...? *Laughing* Hyuuuung!! Don't say that!

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Minho

He can't understand why

WHY?!

He hates to be ignored like that

But usually you refuse to see his reaction

-🐰-

*In a vlog at his mother's house, both were spending time together with his family. He sat on the bed after playing with his cats and records you*

You- *were drying your hair* ...? *Notice* Minho, I'm ugly now...

Minho- Ugly? Watching you drying your hair is kind of sexy...

You- *Hold the laugh* Dummy...*he keeps staring* What?

Minho- Ppoppo~

You- Not now, Minho...*giggles* Not with the camera on, Stays won't like it.

Minho- I don't care... Ppoppooo~

You- *turn off the hairdryer* No, I'll help your mother with the dinner~ *walk away*

Minho: *turns the camera to him*

Minho- Stay... See what you guys do? I'm a sad man...*stand up*

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

CHANGBIN

He thinks it is kind of funny

He loves when you provoke him

Sometimes acts a little awkward when he isn't expecting certain actions from you

A little lost

And definitely will try to steal kisses from you the rest of the day

-🐷-

*I love to imagine an exposed relationship muhaha*

*You and your group (yees, group >:)) were invited to Collab with Stray Kids in a tv show called "Sleepovers", where they invite two groups to the show and interact. Of course they invite your group with Stray Kids, your relationship with Changbin was top 5 on Twitter and everywhere have months already*

(*m0- member of you group)

Han- What do we do now?

Hyunjin- We have a list! *Open a huge list of missions*

Seungmin- Oh my gosh!

*M1- Why so big?! Jeez!

Changbin- *grab the list* The first mission is: "Changbin kisses his girlfriend"! *Everybody laughs* That's easy!JAGIYA!Come on!

You- I swear, I'll punch you *giggles blushing*

Changbin- It gains 450 points!*pouts*

You- *you try to grab the list of his hand but he keeps trying to kiss you* CHANGBIN! *Laughing, you give a little slap on his lips and move away*

*The boys started to laugh really hard*

Changbin:

Chan- *dying of laughing*

Jeongin- Hyung, I think you got refused by your own girlfriend on camera *pretend to be in shock*

Changbin- I wasn't denied! She's not like that...Is just not the right moment *laughing awkwardly* I wasn't expecting that. I'll get my revenge.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Hyunjin

He get annoyed lol

He HATES and love when you do that

He knows it only to provoke

But...he's never ready for it lol

-🥟-

*Vlog at the dance room*

Hyunjin - *sits on the ground* I'm kind of stressed out...this choreo is hard.

Seungmin- *recording* You can't, Hyung, calm dooown~

Hyunjin- The only thing that calms me down now is my princess...*looking for you*

Seungmin- *searching for you with the camera and find you passing through, he zooms in* Hiii~

You- *waves while eating a snack*

Hyunjin- Baby, I really need a kiss now...give me attention.

You- *nodded in deny*...why?

Hyunjin:... Cause I want a kiss and attention... I need to calm down.

You- You won't have it~ *smile walking away*

Seungmin- *Put the camera at Hyunjin* Hehehe...You got rejected, hyung.

Hyunjin:

Seungmin- Hyung is mad~ *zoom in and out*

Hyunjin- A little...

Seungmin- You don't like when she refused your kiss? ~

Hyunjin- She's crazy if she wants to provoke me today...

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Continue in part two - Maknae line

#stray kids #stray kids bang chan #stray kids changbin #stray kids fanfic #stray kids felix #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids imagines #stray kids lee know #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios

[ninthskzmember]

Used to this ღ

Kim Seungmin x reader.

bestfriend!seungmin, idol!seungmin, idol!reader word count: 1,5k warnings: fluff. petnames. i didn't proofread it. tags: fluff, friends to lovers.

Requests are open :)

April 9th, 2023.

A week has passed since the Maniac tour ended, meaning that today you will be able to see your dumb best friend at the company after a long time.

"Excited?" Kia asked with a smile on her face

"Why would I be, unnie?" You frowned at her question

"Kim Seungmin is coming back today. All of them are coming." She kept that smile on her face

"You're annoying. It's not like I haven't been talking with him all along" you rolled your eyes and she laughed at your reaction

"I just stated facts! I didn't know you would be upset about seeing your boy best friend after so long"

"I'm not upset" you held back a laugh and pushed your leader lightly

"Are you excited or not?" She asked again

"Are you excited about seeing Chris after so long too, unnie?" You fired back

"Hey, that's not funny" that smile disappeared from her face

"How to forget the night where Kia unnie was so drunk that she threw up on Chan Oppa's bed" Ski said, getting into the conversation

"Yeah, what were you doing in his bed again?" Lu teased

"Back to practice. Now." Kia turned on the leader mode and the seven of you got into position.

"Yeah but actually..." a curious Haneul spoke from her place "I never knew the reason behind you being there" her angelical aura couldn't make Kia mad.

"I was just wasted, and he's a gentleman so he offered his bed to me so I could sleep and sober up a bit" the leader explained while looking at you all through the big mirror in front of you.

"Yeah, I am" a voice came over from the opening door and the seven of you bowed at Bang Chan.

Kia turned absolutely red.

"No need to be ashamed Kia, we remember it with laughs" Jisung joked and bowed back.

Your eyes were trying to be x-ray, trying to find your best friend in between all the people that were entering the place.

"Sweetie" Seungmin made his apparence and left you speachless.

"Kim Seungmin" You rushed towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and he wrapping his around your waist "I missed you"

"I know, you were annoying me almost every day" he smiled, letting his brand new smile be seen. Wordless. "You're staring, weirdo" his sweet little laugh came out of his mouth

"I'm sorry" you blinked a few times, trying to organise your thoughts. "You didn't tell me you took your braces off"

"It was all over twitter, I thought you already knew" he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"I haven't been using it for a while" —because you were all over my timeline and it made me miss you even more— you thought, but didn't say.

And again, when you looked around, realized that just like old times, you and Seungmin were lost in your own little world. The rest of the members from both groups were fooling around, screaming, running, singing, jumping, dancing.

Actually, you missed the eight of them.

What caught your eye was how sweety Lee Know was looking at Haneul when she was talking to him and Jeongin.

"Hey," you called Seungmin and made a movement with your head to make him see what your eyes were looking at.

"Yeah, but look over there" he pointed at Jisung and Manee being an absolute CHAOS.

"Looks like I was not the only one missing a Stray Kid." you smiled

"I missed you too" he rubbed your back from the side where he was standing. "And don't get used to it"

"Not at all" you made a disgusted face, just to see how his smile appeared again.

There was something about him now that was making you go insane. Like, after the time you guys had apart, he stopped being a rebellious teenager and became a man. You couldn't take his eyes off him.

"Okay, everyone, let's gather here." BangChan called all of you and you obeyed.

He and Kia started talking about the Collab stage that the groups had, talking about how they wanted it to go and asking for ideas too.

"I think, we could go in groups and showcase our positions. Like, dance line, rap line, voice line" Felix suggested

"Yah, you wanna kill this one" Seungmin pointed at you

"I might be in both my voice and dance line, but I'm not a rapper" you couldn't help but smile every time that man spoke to or about you.

"You are as much as a rapper as I am. And I'm a fucking great rapper" he let out a cocky smile

"Actually, Stay wants Seungmin on the rap line" Changbin joked

"She's a great rapper though" Ski smiled

"I hate to interrupt such a lovely discussion but we need to get back on subject" Kia stated, leaving the conversation out of mind.

April 23th, 2023.

"You did amazing, sweetie. You look gorgeous" Your friend smiled at you

"Thank you, Seungmin" you answered shyly and hid your face looking to the floor

"No, no. Don't hide" he took you by your chin and make you look at him "Those diamonds on top of your freckles look stunning"

"You're making me blush, asshole" You pushed him

"See? I can't be nice to you" he crossed his arms on top of his chest, making himself look taller than he was

"Just get married already" Minho said rolling his eyes while passing by with a bottle of water in his hands "Awesome job, Y/n. You were almost as good as me" he said with sarcasm and you laughed.

"He's unbearable" Seungmin denied with his head too

"Either are you" You teased him and you could see how a little smirk wanted to appear on his face, which he repressed.

"Little shit" he looked away, hiding his smile

"Hey, don't disrespect me. I'll make you call me noona"

"I'd call you noona anytime"

"You're being weird" You said, closing your eyes halfway.

"y/n-ssi, Seungmin-ssi sunbaenim" Yeonjun came by

"She's also your sunbaenim" Protective Seungmo was activated and he placed himself right by your side, looking at the other male

"Hey" you slightly blushed, trying to not make eye contact with the idol.

"I just wanted to congratulate you both"

"Thank you." Seungmin cutted the boy off.

Yeonjun bowed and left you alone again.

"You were kinda rude" You looked at him

"Oh, c'mon girl" He rolled his eyes "I just can't stand him"

"That's 'cause you're jealous" you smirked at the guy

"He took you away from him for a long amount of time. So, it's safe to say no, I do not like him."

"That face, Kim Seungmin" Hyunjin passed by and laughed at the expression in Seungmin's face "What's got you all mad?"

You just pointed at Yeonjun, a few meters away from the conversation.

"Trying to steal ya' girl again? Damn, gotta talk with Changbin hyung"

His girl? Again?

"He's friends with hyung." That's all he said. Hyunjin just laughed and left

"Sorry, what was that?" You asked

"That was nothing. Just Hyunjin annoying us" he answered fast

"You're blushed" You laughed "Seungmin... Do you like me?" You took his hand, making him look at them

"Of course I like you. You wouldn't be my friend if I didn't."

"Ok, fair" you sighted "Let me reform that... Do you have feelings for me?" he opened his mouth to talk and you cutted him off "And don't give me the same fucking answer 'cause I will hurt you, I swear to god Kim Seungmin" You added and he laughed

"So... Technically speaking... having like... romantic feelings?"

"Yes, he does. Kiss her, you fool!" Hyunjin came over again and pushed you both, making you crush into his chest.

You looked up at his eyes, as he looked down at yours.

"I kinda romatically like you, yes y/n" he took a few strands of your hair out of your face

"I kinda romantically like you too, Seungmin" You smiled back at him.

He slowly leaned down, making your lips meet for the first time in the five years that you've known eachother and been friends.

You placed your arms around his broad shoulders and his hands took place in your waist.

"FINALLY" you heard Ski scream from the top of her lungs.

"FATHER AND MOTHER GOD" Jeongin screamed at the same volume as Ski

"I took the most beautiful picture" said Hyunjin and he was... Sobbing?

"Yah, that's enough. You're disgusting" Minho came all the way here and separated you, making you both laugh

"You're jealous you can't kiss Haneul like this" You fired at him, and for the first time in ages, you left Lee Minho speachless.

"SHE'S RED!" Jenny jumped up and down while looking at your member be flustered.

"Y/n" Seungmin caught your attention again saying your name in the sweetest way ever "Do you wanna go out with me?" his sweet voice didn't change at all, making you melt inside

"Of couse I want" You got in your tip toes and kissed briefly his lips.

#Spotify #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz #changbin #seungmin #han jisung #lee know #bang chan #lee felix #hyunjin #jeongin #skz jisung #kim seungmin x reader #seungmin x reader #kpop idol #idol

[lorelune]

stone fruit

|| the wanderer x reader || M || strangers to lovers + handfeeding + fluff || wc: 5.6k  || ao3 ||

You and the enigmatic Wanderer become acquainted with each other, an old story, and the best zaytun peaches.

minors & ageless blogs dni

note: the wanderer is referred to as Zerah

✨🍑meet fruit masterlist🍑✨

a/n: !!! here's my piece for the willow's house server summer collab, meet fruit!!! for my fruit prompt i had peaches!!! enjoy this sweet summer treat of wanderer and peaches loves 💕

CWs: hand feeding

“You’re obscene.” 

“What?” You ask, wiping a smear of peach juice from the corner of your mouth. “It’s just ripe.”

Verging on overripe truthfully, but you aren’t one to argue about semantics (not your darshan) or discard an almost-perfectly-fine fruit, just because it has a few squishy imperfections on its flesh. 

Your traveling companion scowls, pulling back his lip to look a lot more like an offended housecat than the right-hand of the Dendro archon. You swallow down your mouthful and hold back a laugh. You’re sure he could be intimidating if he tried, but he reminds you more of a stray kitten than anything else. 

The hill you perch on is grassy, dry from the midday sun but vibrant green with the rain that sprayed down that morning from Apam Woods. You’d avoided the worst of it, and you didn’t mind being a bit damp. Your companion hid under that comically large-brimmed hat of his, perfectly dry. Probably a good thing, given his feline-leanings. You don’t need to learn the sound of his hissing. 

He regards you with an expected scrutiny and thinly-veiled suspicion that you’ve learned he picks everyone apart with. Not even you, his fellow traveler for weeks now, is sparred. It took you some time to not take it personally. Lord Kusanali had warned you of his eccentricities, but she’d had confidence that you would be ‘more than fine’ managing him. 

If she had been anyone other than the Archon of Wisdom, you would’ve questioned her judgment. 

Your companion gives you a tight tsk, “That doesn’t change that you eat like a shroomboar.”

You gasp, “Rude. It’s just juicy, I can’t help it.”

You really can’t. The zaytun peach you’ve been cradling in your palm for the better part of a half-hour has been dripping juice down your wrist. You’ve tried to juggle it to your other hand and lick up what you could, but the noise he made when you sucked on your index finger was far more obscene than the mere display of eating fruit. 

Even now, Zerah’s face is blushed with a pretty pink, just like your peach. Affected, despite his particularities and general disposition. Perhaps you’d toy with him more if you weren’t trying to enjoy your breakfast and the view of the towering, thick straight-trunked trees of the wood. You settle for another bite of fruit that gushes pulp and juice that stickies the corner of your lips.

Zerah huffs, rolling his eyes before pointedly looking away from you. Generally, he’s not childish, but he has moments like this where he’s bashful like a young girl.

You hide a laugh behind the remnants of your peach, held to your lips.

...

When Lord Kusanali assigned you and ‘Hat Guy’ together, to complete some private research on her behalf, you were more than shocked. You’d only recently returned back to the Akademiya following Azar’s fall (personally invited back, by the Lord herself) when you received a summons and an assignment. 

‘Hat Guy’ was introduced to you as Lord Kusanali’s ‘friend’, but you could tell from the way he bristled at the description that it wasn’t entirely accurate. The Lord was all too happy to hand you both stuffed envelopes with her requests. Open-ended things, really. Nothing specific, more of a call to explore with explicit instructions to note what you find interesting. You and your new companion were both from Vahumana, though Lord Kusanali noted that you were certain to have very different perspectives. 

(She wasn’t kidding.)

Your companion was neutrally nihilistic, and believed in the worst of people in most cases. It was shocking he studied within Vahumana and spent his energy writing theses on human nature when his thoughts tended to be so… defeatist. 

It didn’t take you long to put together that Lord Kusanali’s ward is not human.

It’s not just his specific brand of pessimism that gives him around. You brushed your hand against his while walking and it was cold. It should’ve been hot and sticky with the rainforest drizzle, but instead it was cold and wet, like a ceramic glass beading condensation. 

(He scowls when you touch him. Tells you to watch yourself. You are starting to understand why.)

He looks too perfect, you note after a while. His skin is devoid of imperfections, too smooth. Like it was manufactured and not grown cell by cell. He doesn’t tire, and rarely eats or sleeps. Most unsettling is that he can remain motionless for hours. You’ve only witnessed it, on the few nights you couldn’t sleep, and kept yourself entertained by watching the lack of breath in his chest and his rigid, unchanging posture through the night and rain.

Your companion fascinates you.

He seems... indifferent about you. Such indifference has been tempered down from annoyance, you think. You don’t think Zerah liked you much at all during the first weeks of your research. Perhaps some of that is his demeanor, and perhaps some of it is your own unfamiliarity with his quirks. You two didn’t know how to walk in step, and in those early days of your travels, your companion didn’t seem interested in learning your rhythm. You stumbled and struggled to keep up with his.

It’s on a single night, you think, that Zerah began to become intrigued with you.

...

“Hey, Zerah? Can you throw another log onto the fire?” You ask, peeling a root vegetable with a paring knife. 

Begrudgingly, he tosses a log into the fire and then frowns, “Why do you call me that?”

“Call you what?”

“‘Zerah’.”

“Because Hat Guy certainly isn’t your real name, and it’s too goofy to fit you well,” You hum and toss the cubes into a simmering pot. “Figured you needed a name that suited you better.”

“And ‘Zerah’ does? That hardly sounds like a name.” He scowls at you as you stir. 

“It is, promise.” You lick the spoon and grimace. Fishing into your bag, you pull forth a block of salt and a small grater on a keyring. “It’s a name from a storybook I used to read when I was little.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.” You stir in a few more tablespoons of black pepper. “It was one of several in an anthology my father purchased in the desert. It was falling apart when he got it, and disintegrated by the time I was old enough to do any proper digger about it.”

“I know plenty of old stories.” Your companion huffs as you spoon your dinner into two bowls. “I don’t know any with that name.”

“Would you like me to enlighten you, then?” You hand him a bowl and collapsible spoon with a raised eyebrow. 

He takes the bowl and glares. So, yes. 

“It was this story about a little boy born into a dark world, full of sand and dunes.” You remember the illustrations vividly. Worn, illuminated pages fit with four-pointed stars on the corners. “He was nameless, and so he asked the earth what his name should be, and it said to go out and look for his name.”

“So the little boy traveled his whole world— dark and scary and lonely as it was. He met friends and creatures who he asked to name him, but they all told him to keep looking. Eventually, he came to an oasis with a Heron wading in its center. The boy asked the heron, ‘What am I to be? What will I be named?’ and the Heron said ‘You must ask the sun, it will know your name.’”

“But, there was no sun. So the little boy had to go even further, upwards, until the world turned upside down, and turned right-side up again. There, he found the sun, brighter and more luminous than anything he’d ever seen, and asked it what his name should be. And the sun said, ‘You have traveled the world over for a name, yet you are only beginning.’ The sun took letters the little boy taught him and gave him the name ‘Zerah’, which the sun said is the sound the world makes every morning with dawn.”

“... That’s abstract.” Zerah huffs, and ignores the very delicious bowl of curry in his hands. “And the name doesn’t sound like common. Or any other language I know of.”

“I’ve never been able to find anything on it.” You shrug. It’s not like you spent much time looking. “I figured it was some poor translation of an old Deshretini fable. Regardless, you’re Zerah.”

“... Like dawn.”

“Like dawn.” You nod. “Because you’re always staying up so late until the sun rises. Seriously, don’t you get tired? How does your skin stay so perfect, despite the lack of sleep?”

“You’re insufferable.” Zerah rolls his eyes with a growl. “Is that really your reasoning? How juvenile.”

“I think it’s perfectly acceptable.” You speak around a mouthful. “If it bothers you, I’ll call you Hat Guy, Hat Guy.”

Your companion stares at you, then laughs under his breath and a click of his tongue. “It’s fine.”

“So I can—”

“It’s fine— I’m going to find more firewood.” There’s still a stack next to your camp ground, but before you can grill him more, he’s gone, hovering up over a ridge and out of sight.

Zerah didn’t touch his dinner.

...

It’s another day, later. Sumeru doesn’t have much for seasons, especially as you near the Wall of Samiel and the desert’s sand and heat creep into Sumeru’s jungle. You and Zerah wander over a ridge while you munch on a dried slice of Harra fruit. It’s bitter, puckering your mouth and making you salivate. You wipe at the corner of your lip. 

“You shouldn’t walk and eat.” Zerah says, pushing himself up and over a small ledge. He offers you his hand. 

“Why’s that?” You ask, holding the fruit in your mouth and reach for him. 

Zerah pulls you up, steadying you and then frowns. A smear of spit from your hand shines on him now. He looks disgusted, wiping it away on his shorts with a grimace. 

“Choking hazard.” Your companion grabs you by the wrist. “Wash your damn hands. You’re sticky.”

“A necessary evil.” You shrug as Zerah leads you to a pond nearby. He kneels with you at the water's edge and stares. “A good fruit is worth it.”

“Is it really?” Zerah deadpans as you relent and rinse your hands in the crystalline blue water. You scrub at them with a flat stone you find in the silt and sand. 

“Absolutely.” You respond matter-of-factly. You can feel Zerah’s scrutinizing glare. It dawns on you that, perhaps, he truly doesn’t know of such things. “... Have you ever had a perfectly ripe peach?” 

“No.” Zerah curls his knees to his chest at the water’s edge. His bottom lip juts out cutely— pouting, almost. As close to such a thing as he would allow himself. “I don’t need to eat.”

“Well do you like eating?” You ask, shaking off the water from your hands and drying the excess with a wipe to your shoulders. You pointedly ignore the expression of mild disgust Zerah wears. “Have you ever enjoyed eating?”

“... I don’t need to answer you.”

“No, you don’t.” You frown. “But, I’d like it if you did. Come on now, don’t be so shy.”

Zerah almost growls at you. It’s cute. He’s so prickly. “I don’t hate eating, but I don’t enjoy it either.”

“What have you enjoyed eating?” You ask, turning to him. “Do you have a favorite dish?”

That makes him pause. He opens his pretty, petal lips, then closes them with a shake of his head. There’s a wistful look in his eye that stops you from prying at such things. Teasing is far different from poking at a past that you know is, perhaps, sensitive.

You don’t think before you act; you reach out a hand to wrap around his and squeeze. Trace your thumb against the too-smooth plane of his palm. 

“Tell you what,” You flash him a smile. “Next chance we get, I’ll find us a ripe zaytun peach and I’ll show you how tasty they can be, okay?”

Zerah looks at you. Really looks at you. With his too-perfect skin wrinkling around his gem-cut eyes. He doesn’t like promises— you’ve put this together. Assurance rarely does anything but make him avoidant and hissy. What you’re handing to him now is something— something more tender than what you, as research partners, were assigned to share.

Your companion flexes his fingers in your grip, “... Fine.” 

Something feels sticky in your chest— like honey and bee’s wax dripping between your ribs. It makes a sweet smile stretch across your face, one that raises a soft blush on Zerah’s face. He ducks under his hat, and drops your hand, grumbling something about your next destination.

Perhaps, you’re a bit smitten with him as you dash after him, half-skipping.

...

Zerah begins to stick to your side more than he used to.

You’re not sure he knows he is— but, he is. He walks a few paces closer, and sits at your side around the campfire each night, rather than across from you. Rather than hovering outside of your tent and tarp each night, he sits just inside, near your feet. 

(You swear, once or twice, that he lays a hand over your ankle. Touches you before drawing away after just a moment.)

One night, Zerah lays down next to you, when you’re half asleep. A drizzle patters against the fabric of the tent as he curls next to you, not touching, but undeniably close. It’s almost unnerving— his lack of heat in this instance. He doesn’t shiver, despite the chill and humidity.

He lays his head on top of his folded hands, nose just inches from yours. You watch him with him with half-lidded eyes, and sleepily debate on whether or not to comment on his... seeking. Because that’s what this is, isn’t it? A wanderer who isn’t quite human and doesn’t quite know himself, seeking something from you. Though he doesn’t know what.

You’re not sure either.

“‘Come here,” Your words slur and you lift up your blanket. It’s more than big enough for two. “It looks lonely out there.”

Zerah stiffens up, and scowls, but doesn’t move. “I don’t need a blanket.” 

“Not relevant.” You answer, grip slipping. The rain and the darkness of the tent make you so, so sleepy. It doesn’t help that Zerah is so close, always smelling like damp earth and some perfume you can’t recognize. 

“I’ll make you colder.” Zerah frowns. “I don’t produce heat under these circumstances.”

“... Not relevant.” You begin to doze off, clinging to wakefulness. 

Zerah rolls his eyes, “Why would you want me that close anyways?”

That startles you. “... Because I like you? And I meant it, it looks lonesome without a blanket and a sleeping buddy.”

Zerah is looking at you. It’s piercing and almost violent. The aura of it wakes you up fully, along with the whirring of the air around his Vision. He looks angry, pushing himself up halfway in an instant, before caging you, arms on either side of you, bringing you both nose-to-nose.

Your heart hammers in your chest. You grab one of his wrists and your eyes go wide.

His breath is cold against your cheeks— lips.

“... Zerah?” You say, softly. His lip curls and his hand scrunches into a fist near your ear. The lines of his throat bob with a swallow, and you itch with the urge to bring him closer. Offer him something more than just a blanket and some body heat.

(But, you are dealing with a stray cat after all. It must come to you.)

“You’re... you’re something.” He says it like an accusation. It makes your head spin.

“Am I?” You huff, kicking him lightly. “I’m just trying to sleep and offer you a kindness.”

“Sure.” Zerah says, nearly good-natured and joking. He’s not naive, not at all— you sometimes forget this. Perhaps— perhaps he’s too knowing. The facade slips for a moment, and you see something flash in his eyes that you recognize—

Want. 

It’s one you’ve never seen him wear. It makes something in your chest tighten and jolt like you’ve been struck by something electric and live. 

You start to say his name, the name you gave him, but he’s already slipped lower. So quickly does he pull the blanket back to bully your legs open and lay between them. He tucks into you with his cheek over your collarbones, cold and smooth. He wraps his arms around your middle. Zerah feels lighter over your chest— or maybe just weighted wrong. Regardless, the move steals your breath, and you’re frozen as he settles on top of you.

He wraps the blanket over the two of you and tangles you together. 

“Zerah—” You try to say something, anything.

“Your heart is pounding.” He says, crumbling the fabric of your nightshirt over your chest. “Calm down and go to sleep.”

“You really expect me to?” You laugh, cautiously brushing your hand over his shoulder blades. Zerah shudders. 

“Yeah.” Zerah never lays down at night, never sleeps or rests like this. You feel too shocked to move, afraid that if you shift or stir too much, you’ll frighten him away. 

Instead, you tentatively stroke a hand over his hair. It’s soft— perfectly silky and shiny. When you scratch behind his ear, his breath catches in the prettiest way. You savor the sound, thrumming on your insides. Zerah buries his nose in the hollow of your throat, the cold wash of his breath fanning over your skin.

“You’re silly.” You laugh, gasping when Zerah drags his nails down your sides. You jolt and squirm with it.

It’s a wonder how you ever fall asleep that night. It must be the motion of Zerah’s fingertips, rubbing over your ribs over your nightclothes. Maybe it’s the odd weight of him that presses over your chest. Perhaps it’s that you’ve become increasingly comfortable with your companion, and his recent proclivity for proximity is something you’ve come to welcome. Enjoy, even.

...

You find the perfect peach sometime later— in the lush valleys near Pardis Dhyai. Zerah is only a pace behind you, and you’ve taken his hand in your own during this part of the trek. His skin feels cool against your own, a blessing in Sumeru’s heat. You want more of him, but you’ll settle for his name, a promise, and the chill of his contact that he’s been giving you more frequently. 

There’s a little market set up with wares from the villages of the jungle and the outposts of the desert, congregating by a stream. You both poke around at stalls for a while, side-by-side, never straying too far from one another.

When you do orbit beyond Zerah’s reach, he’s quick to snatch you back. He grumbles under his breath— “stay put” and pinches the skin of your wrist. When you yelp and bat at his shoulder, he only smiles— the smallest, tiniest thing that’s all for you. He pivots within the crowd, always keeping such a particular amount of distance between him and the next person. It’s intentional; when someone brushes to close, Zerah flinches like he’s been burned.

Not you, though. Never you anymore.

It makes you giddy. 

There’s a fruit vendor on the outer edge of the market. The stall is overflowing with produce from across Teyvat— though the best of it is all Sumeru’s local specialties. There’s a box with beautifully stacked zaytun peaches, perfectly pink and swollen. Ripe with the heat, and still green and lively near where it once grew from its stem. You inspect them carefully, Zerah hovering near your back. The shade from his hat slants enough to keep you cool.

You pick out a handful of them, one by one. Four in total. Enough to snack on for the next few days. The merchant kindly bundles them for you in beeswax wrap and twine and hands them to you with a smile. Zerah bristles behind you and lays a hand on your lower back. If he really was a stray cat, he’d be hissing. Maybe scratching. 

You cow him with a gentle smile before passing the merchant a few coins, throwing in a bouquet of beautiful Sumeru roses and cecilia, all the way from Mondstadt. How could you pass up such a beautiful arrangement? You hand the flowers to Zerah, who fumbles them for a moment before cradling them in the crook of his arm. There’s a flush on his cheek— rosy and pretty.

“We’ve found them.” You tell him as you practically drag him from the market into the meadows beyond, deeper into the jungle. “These are perfect.”

“... The peaches?”

“The peaches.” You blop down on a stump and begin to unfurl the wrapping. “Look how pretty they are— and just ripe enough.”

You poke around in your bag for a knife as Zerah settles next to you. He minces for a beat before you lean into his side. 

He stills.

You unsheath your small paring knife, brushing it flat against the fabric of your trousers to clean it. Zerah watches you with rapt attention as you examine each peach until you find the most perfect of the bunch. Pink like an early sunset, with just a bit of give when you squeeze it. You gently pull off the leaves at the top and discard them.

“... You really got the peaches,” says Zerah with an exhale. His shoulders are drawn up.

“Of course I did.” You laugh and knock your head into his bicep. “I’ve been looking since I promised you. Just took a while to find the best ones.”

Zerah makes a noise, something between a grunt and a whine; it’s one you’ve never heard him make. (He’s— he’s been making more of these little noises lately. The other day he actually whimpered while you were detangling his hair with your fingers.) Half a growl even maybe— like a stray who doesn’t know whether to bite your hand or lick it clean. 

You feel woozy with it.

Maybe your companion has been getting under your skin more. Vulnerability is a hell of a thing, and receiving any of it from someone as drawn up and closed off as Zerah is an intoxicant in and of itself. The little glimpses of him you’ve come to covet, revel in— catalog and keep. Your research for Lord Kusanali is paramount, yes, but you find it far easier these days to moon over your companion— regardless of whether or not he knows. 

“You there?” Zerah asks, taking the paring knife from your hand, then the peach. He cradles it in his palm. 

“Y-Yeah, I’m here,” You laugh, shaking your head. You’re lying. 

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Zerah says and it sounds like he’s pouting. “Tell me how to cut this.”

“Sure,” You respond; you feel like you’re dreaming. It must be the heat getting to you. “There’s a pit, you have to cut around it.”

Zerah digs the blade in. Juice squirts from the incision, stickying his fingers. He frowns, grimacing, “Like this?”

“Just like that.” You don’t mean to sound breathless, but you do anyway. You smoosh your cheek into his bicep.

“You’re being weird.” Zerah snaps, but the bite of his words doesn’t reach you. 

You lean closer to him, a smile curling your lips. You feel mischievous, you want to get under his skin— he’s gotten better at holding his own against you, rather than running he tends to contend with you. You can’t ruffle him like you used to, which is truly tragic. Wretched, even. 

“Am I?”

Zerah rolls his eyes, huffs, but he can’t hide the flush that’s traveling from his cheeks to his neck. He doesn’t push you away. If anything— he leers closer. He’s combative with you, he always has been, but this feels different. He’s not sparring with you, he’s not running off when you take a joke too far or rib him too close.

He’s retaining proximity, and handing you a slice of the peach.

“Is this right?” Zerah asks as he passes it to you. It’s— it’s juicy, and drips down in between your fingers.

You eat the piece whole and nod, turning away. Your stomach is in knots— it’s almost unpleasant. 

“You don’t look like you enjoyed that.”

“I did—” You lie, then tell a truth. “I’ll be honest, it’s not really what I’m focused on. I want to know what you think about it.”

Zerah’s grip tightens around the peach, bruisingly. The flesh gives way around his hand, and you jolt to try and save it. 

Zerah jerks it out of the way with a scowl, but keeps his face close to you. Nose-to-nose. Cold breath washing over your lips. 

“... Why are you so invested in me eating a stupid peach?” He asks with a lilt in his voice you’ve never heard him use before. 

“Because they’re tasty.” You lunge for the peach again, and Zerah pulls it out of the way. “You should enjoy something that tastes good and makes you feel that way.”

You hike yourself up on the stump, on one knee, and stretch to try and grab the fruit from him. The peach bursts with the pressure of his grip, pink flesh spilling from between his fingers. Liquid nectar slicking his palm, trailing down his wrist. 

Zerah frowns down at you— you’re sprawled out across his lap— you— you must look obscene.

His cheeks are so red. There’s heat coming from his— chest. Lower abdomen, but only there. You can feel it against his side, feel the thump and whirring of parts that are surely not entirely human.

“Why do you care if I care, Zerah?” A grin curls across your face when you say it. 

“Shut up.”

“But, Zerah—”

He’s shaking. Trembling. He tears a chunk of peach from the mess in his hand, intact enough to not fall apart when he shoves it against your lips. He presses, pushes— all you can smell is ripe, sweet fruit and that perfume he always carries with him. You almost kick your feet.

You open your lips, just barely— enough for Zerah to push the morsel inside, and for you to give the lightest suck to his fingers when they withdraw away. 

If Zerah were human, he’d be panting. You are.

“Is this fun for you?” He asks, voice sharp. He rips another piece of fruit and repeats, not giving you the time or the space to get a word in. 

You’re not sure what response you’d give him, if you could. Fun, isn’t quite the right word. It’s diminutive, perhaps derogatory to him in some way. You feel nothing less than adoring. You’re basking in the attention he gives you, in the quiet but entirely mutual aware of the feeling that’s metastasized from begrudging research partner to this.

Zerah feeds you like that for long enough for your limbs to grow heavy. The chunks he’s tearing out of the peach are getting smaller (like he’s savoring this too, lengthening whatever this exchange is by drawing out the length of time that he can feed you this single peach). They’re more messy.

Juice and pulp coat around your lips. You feel sticky— you’ll need a bath after this. Or at least to wash your face. Zerah’s armguards glisten with the sap they’ve soaked up. He’ll need washing up too.

“Wait—” You catch him by the wrist and force yourself. “You haven’t had any, have you?”

“No.” Zerah swipes over your lips with his thumb. “You’re filthy.”

“It’s your fault,” You lean closer, crawling into his lap.

He stiffens. 

For a moment, you think you’ve gone too far. Perhaps the line for him is at ‘lap sitting’ and not at ‘hand-feeding fruit’, and you’ve misjudged the situation. Is this exploratory for him? You don’t know enough about him to make confident assessments of his experience, but perhaps... Perhaps this business with the peaches was innocent. Perhaps the proximity you now have, settled in his lap with your hands on his shoulders, is passing something you hadn’t anticipated.

You’d only been close to cuddle for warmth, right? He only touched you out of a kindness or ease— perhaps a favor to be repaid. Sitting in his lap, sticky and panting—

Before you can backpedal, recant, disengage, Zerah wraps his peach-soaked fingers around your jaw and drags you to kiss him. 

It shocks you; a little gasp slips from your lips that Zerah swallows in kind. His hand that was holding the last remnants of the peach and its pit slides along your waist, around your waist to drag you closer. He licks into your mouth and it becomes abundantly clear you panicked assessments were horribly wrong.

He licks the inside of your teeth, sucks on your tongue— it’s obscene. It’s messy, in a way that makes you bury your hands in his hair to tilt his head at a better angle. Bring him closer— hands still frigid but the center of abdomen feels scorching against your own. 

You feel drunk when he pulls away, gasping and bracing yourself on his arms. Zerah’s exhales feel too-hot against the skin of your jaw as he drags his lips there, biting, as his nails rake down your sides.

“Is that really the most effective way to eat a peach?” You ask him. 

Zerah pulls away, grabs your cheeks, and stares. When you try to speak, he tightens his grip so your lips squish together. 

“Really?” 

“It’s an honest question.” Your words are garbled. 

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe, but perhaps I make a fair point.” You fish to the side, within the discarded beeswax wrapping, and grab another peach. “I’m sure kissing me— pardon, ravishing me—”

“Shut up—” Zerah kisses you stupid and quiet again. 

“You’re interrupting.” You speak through your headrush and hold a fresh, untouched peach in your palm. “As I was saying, I’m sure ravishing me as you have decided to isn’t the prime way to get a taste of this peach. Get it from the source.”

You hold the whole peach, squeeze it lightly, and take a chomp out of it. No knife required— not slicing, nothing pretty. Just flesh parting around teeth and the juice of it dripping down your chin and wetting your palm. You chew, swallow, and hold the untouched side to his lips. The fruit is sweet, so sweet— the flavor if it lingers on your tongue. You’re sure Zerah can smell. Even if he doesn’t need to breathe, you can feel his heavy inhales and exhales. Maybe his breath is where that smell of his comes from, like incense and crushed petals of a flower you can’t identify clearly.

His hand squeezes around your hip. Hard enough to bruise— harder, and it makes you remember your companion’s strength. He doesn’t have muscles that match with it quite right. It makes you forget. 

You gasp when he tugs you closer and takes a bite from the peach, all the way down to the pit. His cheeks remain flushed, stained seemingly, as he chews, and swallows. You watch the bob of his throat as he does. 

You’re entranced by him. It’s lovely to be so overt about it.

“... How did you like it?” Your voice sounds dreamy and half-there as his hands slide up and under your shirt.

He thinks for a moment— studying you. Palm skimming down your ribs, stopping to count them. You can feel him do so. The other presses fingertips over your lips, pushing inside your mouth to run over your teeth.

“It was good.” Zerah tugs the fruit from your hand and sets it aside. “I’ll have more of it later.”

“‘Weally?” You exclaim, around his fingers. He jabs the inside of your cheek and your squeal.

“Yes, really.” He sounds softer, for a moment. It makes something in your ache in the best way. “I understand why you wanted me to try it.”

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me, then.” You goad him on. “Why?” 

“You’re insatiable.” He groans, bouncing his leg and you subsequently. “Is this not enough?”

“It is ‘enough’,” You assure him (you want to eat him alive.) “Call me greedy, I suppose. I’ll take whatever you give me, Zerah.”

“Are you a glutton, then?”

“Only a scholar. Perhaps a foolish, lovesick one, but nonetheless.” 

“... Lovesick?” Zerah’s voice trails, awed. His eyes shine as he grips a hand over his chest. He looks like he might throw up if he’s even capable of such a thing.

“Of course.” And sweetly, you press your sticky lips to his cheek. “I thought that much was obvious, I apologize.”

“Lovesick?” He repeats, this time more incredulous. “Don’t toy with me.”

“I promise, I’m not.” You want to reassure him. “Do you think I’m this shameless with everyone I meet?”

Zerah deadpans. You bat at his chest with a smile on your face that hurts, it’s so wide and full and carefree. 

“I can’t be sure.” He huffs.

“Zerah—”

You gave him that name. He lets you use it. That should speak volumes, but perhaps you’ve been negligent to what that means, how he thinks of you. Perhaps you should’ve realized, earlier, what his increased proximity has been communicating to you now.

Fools, both you. Both learning the steps, the lay of the land, just as the Lord of Dendro requested of you. Perhaps not for Sumeru’s changing, cleansed, landscapes, but for each other. An outcast and an inhuman stray. 

You kiss him again, just as he leans closer to give you the same, grabbing at the cloth over your heart.

#lore writes #the wanderer x reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer reader insert #the wanderer x you #wanderer x you #genshin impact x reader

[kpop-stories-21]

A Boyfriend For Christmas

Group: Stray Kids

Pairing: Han x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Rating: 18-21+

Genres, Tropes, & AUs: Non-Idol AU, College AU, Romance AU, Strangers to Lovers, Fluff, Smut

Content & Trigger Warnings: Barista!Han, Student!Reader, strong language, unprotected sex(wrap that shit up kids), manhandling, oral sex(f receiving), edging, slight degradation, slight dumbification, intense orgasm, aftercare, after-sex cuddles

Summary: Telling your parents you had a boyfriend always kept them off your back about settling down. Now that they're coming up for Christmas your lie is about to be exposed. Luckily, Fate takes pity on you and has you running into a cute barista who captures your heart.

Tags: @kpop---scenarios @stardragongalaxy @jeonrose @skittlez-area512 @mybiasisexo @biaswreckingfics @anyamaris @trashlord-007 @liliesofdreams @rdiamond2727 @naturalogre @millennial-fangirl @twisted-tales-of-all @yoonguurt @staytinyville @dimpledsatan @kwanisms SKZ Tags: @lovelyhange

If you want to be added to my taglist, click here

Network pings: @kdiarynet | @cultofdionysusnet

Collab Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Yes, Mom, I'm doing fine.” You sighed into the phone, rolling your eyes at her ill-founded concern.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me young lady.” Your mother scolded. “I’m just looking out for your wellbeing.”

“I know Mom, I know.” You admitted grudgingly. “Anyway, before you ask, my studies are going fine as well.”

“Good! Just remember, if at any point you want to change your major, you can go to your father’s friend Mr. Kim.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” You said, knowing full well that you never would.

Just then your roommate Karina poked her head in and eyed you expectantly. You nodded in acknowledgement and began to end the call with your mother.

“I gotta go now Mom.”

“Okay sweetie. I’ll call back soon, I want to hear more about this new boyfriend of yours!”

Once you hung up, Karina stepped into your room.

“Still stalling her with the new boyfriend bit?” She inquired.

You nodded. “They haven’t questioned it so far.”

“Are they still planning to come up for Christmas?”

“Yeah, unfortunately.”

“So you have until then to find a guy?”

You frowned. “It’s either that or admit I’ve been lying, and that will not go over well.”

“Well, I wish you luck.” She said warmly. “I’m getting ready to head back home, you sure you’ll be alright staying here by yourself?”

“I’ll be fine Rina.” You say with a grin. “I can take care of myself.”

“Of that, I have no doubt.” Karina teased.

You laughed and chucked a pillow at her. “You better get going before your mom assumes you missing and calls the army.”

“Okay, Y/N! See you next year!”

After Karina left you fell into the same routine you always did, spending most of the day in the dorm room except for the few times you went outside to get coffee or takeout. A few weeks passed, and then came the dreaded call from your mother, announcing that she and your father would be coming up soon to spend Christmas with you.

Panic began to set in, and as you walked to the corner coffee shop one morning you wondered if you should maybe download Tinder or some other dating app. You were so lost in thought you failed to see the figure right in front of you until it was too late and you found yourself tumbling to the concrete, limbs tangled with those of whoever you had crashed into.

Looking up, you found yourself inches away from the most gorgeous man you'd ever seen. Eyes wide, the two of you just stared at each other for several moments until he finally snapped out of his daze and stood, brushing himself off before offering his hand. You took it and he gently pulled you to your feet.

“I am so, so sorry “ He began, remorse clear on his face. “I have a terrible habit of not watching where I'm going.”

You smiled comfortingly. “No, no, the fault is mine. My mind was elsewhere and I didn't even see you until we collided. It's me who should be apologising.”

He chuckled lightly. “Alright then. I happen to work at a coffee shop nearby, can I at least buy you a coffee or something to make it up to you?”

You needed no hesitation to answer his question. “You had me at coffee! I was heading to my favourite coffee shop anyway.”

“Perfect!” He exclaimed, smiling so widely his eyes disappeared.

“My name's Han Jisung, by the way. Most people just call me Han because they know at least one other Jisung.”

You grinned. “I'm Park Y/N and I happen to fall into that category as well! Nice to meet you, Han.”

As you walked you fell into a comfortable conversation with Han. He was easy to talk to, listening intently while also inserting little jokes and puns at the most opportune moments. Before you knew it the two of you were standing in front of the very coffee shop you’d been heading to before you ran into Han.

You were surprised, sure that you would have remembered seeing him there before. “You work here?!” You exclaimed. “I come here all the time, how come I’ve never seen you before?”

Han grinned. “I’ve only been here about a week, I’m kinda new in town.”

You nodded understandingly. “Ah, that would explain it.”

Han opened the door for you, making you blush a bit as you walked in. You’d been here enough times that you knew all the staff by name and considered them friends, so you received several greetings as Han stepped in behind you.

“Hey Han, you’re a bit early today.” Felix called out, blond hair in its usual ponytail.

“Yeah, me and Y/N here had a bit of a collision so I said I’d buy her a coffee to make up for it.”

Minho smirked mischievously. “Well I’m surprised she didn’t kiss you for that, Y/N-ah really loves her coffee.”

You glared at the brunette playfully. “Ha, ha. Very funny, Min.”

“I thought it was quite funny.” Black-haired Hyunjin quipped as he walked by.

You stuck your tongue out at him and he returned the gesture, stopping only when Jeongin started to complain about how grossed-out he was.

After ordering your coffee you sat down in a corner booth, watching fondly as they all teased poor Han about being perfect “boyfriend material” for you. Once they’d left him alone he came to join you, conversation picking right back up like nothing had ever happened.

Students and other people came in and out, oblivious as you talked with Han until his shift started. By the time you decided you should leave, the sun was already starting to set. You gaped at the time on your phone, shocked that you’d been out all day. Gathering your things you bid farewell to Han and your friends, and hurried back to your dorm.

Once back inside, you pondered your encounter with Han. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him extremely good-looking, and you were secretly hoping he’d feel the same. You’d never really believed in love at first sight, but there was no denying the instant attraction you felt when you made eye contact with him. It was worth pursuing at least, especially with your parents’ visit looming ever closer.

By the end of the following week you had exchanged numbers with Han, and hope was growing within you that maybe he felt something for you too. Having a boyfriend in time for your parents’ arrival was the last thought on your mind now, 90% of your brain was taken up with Han and how you felt about him.

One day you woke up feeling rather bold, and decided to just get it over with. Shooting him a quick text revealed he was free, and so you asked him to meet you at the wishing fountain near the coffee shop. He arrived there mere seconds after you did, curiosity written all over his face.

“Hey Y/N! Your text seemed kind of urgent, is everything okay?”

You nodded briefly. “Yeah, mostly. However, there is something I wanted to ask you.”

“Oh? Ask away then.”

Taking a deep breath, you blurted it out before you lost your nerve. “I really like you and I was wondering if it was at all possible that you like me too.”

Something akin to relief flashed across Han’s features, then he took your hands in his and held them tight. “I’ve been trying to work up the courage to ask you this very same question, but it seems you’ve beaten me to it.” Looking you right in the eyes he added, “Yes, I like you Y/N; so, so much. From the very moment we ran into each other you have been almost the only thing I’ve thought about.”

You blushed, feeling suddenly like a teenager speaking with her crush. “I’ve been the same way.” You admitted, which made Han smile brightly.

Leaning forward a little you caught his eyes and asked softly, “Can you kiss me?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He remarked cheekily.

You smacked his arm playfully and he chuckled, pulling you close and covered your lips with his own. Fireworks exploded behind your closed eyes as your heart rate picked up, and you gripped his shoulders in an effort to ground yourself.

You parted after a moment, both of you breathing a little harder.

“That was…breathtaking.” Han murmured, hands coming up to gently cup your face.

“You took the words right out of my mouth.” You replied with a smile.

After that the rest of the week became a bit of a blur, most of your time spent either with Han or packing for the trip to the family cabin where you’d spend Christmas with your parents. You’d expected Han to go back and spend the holidays with his own family, but he insisted they wouldn’t mind if he went with you this time. So you soon found yourself driving those all-too-familiar roads while Han sat in the passenger seat and kept you company.

Upon arriving at the family cabin, you were surprised to find that your parents weren’t already there. Usually they would get there early to make sure the place was nice and cosy by the time you arrived, but this time they were nowhere in sight. Once you and Han carried all the luggage in you checked the answering machine to see if your parents had left a message. They had, and you played it immediately.

“Y/N sweetie, it’s your mother. We had a bit of an accident on the way here so we’re laid over for a few days until we can get the car repaired. Don’t worry about us, we’re both fine. You just have fun with your boyfriend and we’ll see you in a couple days!”

You turned off the machine and looked at Han. “Well, looks like we have the place to ourselves for a few days. What should we do?”

Han thought for a few minutes, then said “I have a few ideas, but they’ll all have to wait until the morning.”

You glanced at the time. “It is pretty late, I’ll fix us something for dinner and we can start our adventure in the morning.”

Han agreed to this and you set about fixing a quick meal of bibimbap, which he declared was the best he’d ever had. The two of you washed the dishes together, then retired to your room, where you unpacked and got ready for bed.

When you woke up in the morning it was freezing. Confused and more than a little concerned, you woke Han and together you made your way to the living room to look out the big picture window. To your utter chagrin, you saw that there’d been a massive snowstorm overnight and there was a thick layer of the stuff that reached halfway up said window.

“Seems we’re snowed in for the foreseeable future.” You grumbled, rubbing your arms vigorously to keep them warm.

“Hey, it’s not all bad.” Han stated as he came up behind you, engulfing you in his warmth as he wrapped his arms around you. “I can think of a few things we can still do.”

You looked up at him, curious. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Like…make breakfast together.”

You giggled and let him pull you towards the kitchen. “That sounds like a good place to start.”

Han, as it turned out, should not be allowed anywhere near a kitchen; a fact you only discovered after he put too much molasses in the cookies, dropped the jar trying to put some back, slipped on the sticky floor and pulled you down with him as the bowl of dry ingredients was dumped all over the both of you.

Sitting on the floor covered in multiple white powders with several sticky patches all over, you turned to a sheepish Han and gave him a playful glare. “You are banished forthwith from the kitchen, under pain of death.”

Han rubbed his neck, embarrassed. Then a look full of mischief came onto his face and he yanked his shirt off in one smooth motion, reaching over to do the same with yours. Before you could react or even open your mouth to complain, he had snatched you up and tossed you over his shoulder, all but running to your shared bedroom. You were dumped unceremoniously onto the slightly cool duvet, goosebumps popping up all over your skin at the contrast in temperature.

Looking up revealed Han hovering over you, eyes dark as he gazed down at you. A shock of arousal raced to your core, and you returned his gaze with rapidly growing want while quickly shucking off your sweatpants.

“You look so pretty laid out like this, baby.” He rasped, running his hands over the blue lace of your bra and panties.

“Wore them just for you.” You breathed, feeling your body heat up even more as he slipped his fingers under the waistband of your panties. “They’re an early C-Christmas present.”

“How thoughtful of you, baby. Now you just lay back and let me unwrap my present.”

The panties came off in one swift yank; then he hooked your legs over his shoulders and slid his tongue into your wet folds, eating you out like a man starved.

“Oh G-God, feels s-so good Han, please don't stop!”

His nose pressed against your clit as he continued his ministrations, bringing you to the edge three or four times but never letting you cum.

You were an overstimulated mess by this point, pitifully begging for your orgasm as if your life depended on it.

“Look at you baby, already going dumb and I haven't even fucked you yet. If you hold it till I finish, then I'll let you cum. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, I can do it, I promise. Just please, please fuck me!” You babbled, mind blank aside from the overwhelming need for release.

“As you wish, my love.” He replied, making short work of his own pants and underwear before hovering over you once more, filling you to the hilt in one quick thrust that punched a sob of pure pleasure from your lungs, fingers wrapping the duvet in a death grip as you fought to hold back your orgasm.

Han set a rough pace, pounding into you with an urgency that belied his own imminent high. The sounds of squelching and slapping skin filled the room, the air permeated with the smell of sex and sweat. It made for a heady mixture of sensations that had your eyes rolling back as his thrusts grew faster, until finally he slammed into you one final time. Lips brushed your ear as he spoke the words you'd been waiting for: “Come for me baby.”

You let go, the world washing white as your limbs went stiff and liquid bliss flooded your veins, a hoarse scream ripping from your throat as your climax crashed over you. After a few moments that felt like forever, you began to come down, the white quickly replaced with black as you fully passed out.

You came to and found Han cleaning both of you as well as the duvet, a relieved smile appearing when he saw that you were awake. “Hey baby.” He murmured, kissing your forehead. “How do you feel?”

“Like I've been fucked into next year.” You whispered, voice almost completely gone. Han chuckled and pulled you under the duvet with him, wrapping around you to help keep you warm.

“Merry Christmas, my sweet Y/N.” He breathed, caressing your cheek.

“Merry Christmas to you too, my handsome Hannie.”

#cultofdionysusnet #fanfic #16 days of smutmas 2023 #MochaMadness:ThePerfectPair23 #kdiarynet #sandsofirenet #stray kids #han x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids han #han smut #han fluff #maturefanfic #18-21+ #au

[chansfavouritechild]

Straykids 9th member

Word count: 0,346K

pairing: skz x 9th member f!reader

warnings: /

Genre: /

Summary: Sorry that it’s so late but yeah. I just want to interduce Sarang with everything you should know ;)

Name : Jeon Sarang      

Age : 20

Birthday: 6 okt 2003

Nicknames :Chans fav child, baby bread, sarangshyyyy, Nonna 

Stage name :Sarang            

Close friends: Keeho, San, Yeonjun, Junho,Jessi, Yuna,jyho,Jimin, Jessi,

Groups she chills with: TXT, enhypen, BTS, p1hamroni, ATEEZ

Hobby’s: Drawing, cook, boxing, designing, makeup 

Scandal: dissing stay, punching jyp, tattoos 

What stay love from her : Her live streams “safe zone” 

Position in the group :Center, Main Rapper, lead vocal, sub dancer, makne

 Family: Big brother Jeon Junkook (BTS) got adopted with only 7

Character: Sassy, comfort, light heart, caring, fearless, jealous, overreacting 

Birth Ort : Germany 

Favorite food: Everything that Lee know cooks for her and ramen+cake

Safe place: Bang Chan she calls him channi or hyung or for fun 오빠(oppa)

Best friends from stray kids : The ultimate gossip duo, sarang and hyunjin

Meme: I am back b!tches   

Group: Sarang is the 9th and only female member of stray kids 

Skzoo: Cat named kyoya

Instagram's username : Sarang:)

Wins: First mixed group, most talented, VMA, MAMA, the best song 2019     Best female idol                

Crush : Stay think it is bangchan because she cuddles with him kinda different 

Most shipped : Bangchan 

Looks:Black long hair, more feminine, tall, colored, dark eyes, stylish                           

Entertainment : Jyp entertainment 

Best Solo Song: Want to know me ?

Best collab: CardiB→ Why?

Dream Job:  Actor (Lee junho)

Trainee Period:2 years 

Age of debuted: Only 10 years old

Cash: 6Mio more than Chan because of the modeling 

Modeling for: Sub Versace but mainly Luis Vuitton 

Usual debut with:  Itzy, but didn’t because she good kicked out and choose SKZ

Ideal type : Someone masculine, can rely on, body, face;(, tall, romantic 

How much is she biased :  23,853 most biased member

Pet: a cat named cookie 

More cute or hot: Sarang act I front of the camera shy and innocent, but she is very sassy

 Vibe: Nightcore, tomboy, badass

bye

love you

#straykids #9th member of stray kids #9th member #9th member of skz #ot8 x reader #skz ot8 #stray kids

[worm-priest]

There's an ongoing JYPE boycott!

Sorry to inform you but Stray Kids are collabing with Charlie Puth who has been knows to platform Zionist beliefs. After the coca-cola collab the company proves that they learned nothing and decided to work with Zionists again.

There is a call to boycott the JYPE company but especially the upcomning Stray Kids collaboration with Charlie Puth.

#stray kids #skz #JYP boycott #JYPE boycott

[ros3ybabe]

Daily Check-in Septmeber 14th, 2023 🎀

This was a good day. Busy, absolutely, but good nonetheless. Had a meeting with my 1st dietetics mentor, and she was absolutely the sweetest and sent me an email after our meeting about the projects she wants me to work on currently, as her mentee. Cannot wait to meet my 2nd mentor next week! Also, I got asked to go into work, so I pulled a 6.5-hour shift when I didn't need to, but I need money so it's worth it.

🩷 What I Ate Today -

Breakfast - tuna w mayo and crackers

Lunch - iced coffee, chicken parm, noodles, one garlic bread, some asparagus

Dinner - chik fil a sandwich, medium fries, polynesian sauce

Extra - 3 more coffees in addition to the one I had at lunch

I am overconsuming caffiene so much right now, but I have been understandably so tired, so it's definitely helping me get through my days and weeks right now. I also genuinely enjoy the taste of the coffee I make, so that's always fun. I did just but a matcha set online, so hopefully, I can learn to make my own matcha and cut back on coffee for a bit.

🩷 Personal Achievements -

Attended RD meeting

Had my therapy appointment

Planned out part of my upcoming week/weekend

Studied Japanese for ~15 min

I did not accomplish almost anything school related, but that's okay because I'll have the time to do it all this weekend after work both days.

🩷 Todo for Today -

take Fitness For Health and Sport lecture notes

call embroidery place about dropping off my cooking class's chef coat

Video call with my boyfriend

Complete my Sample nutrition log assignment + submit it (if I have the time)

Study Japanese 10+ minutes

Because of how busy my schedule has been, I've been studying Japanese daily about 10 to 15 minutes a day. I'm starting to remember the hiragana characters pretty well so I've started jotting down vocabulary in a mini notebook.

🩷 Song of the Day - Social Path by Stray Kids, LiSa

This song is on repeat right now. I've always loved both their music and now that they've collabed, I'm on cloud 9. They're voices all sound so good in this song.

That's all for now! Will not be updating the 15th due to working the night shift at my job but will update for the 15th and 16th on Saturday night!

Til next time, lovelies 🩷

#pink pilates girl #pink pilates princess #self care #self development #self love #wonyoungism #health & fitness #it girl #mental health #physical health #that girl energy #that girl #college study tips #college studyblr #college #university student #student life #studyblr #language learning #it girl energy #clean girl #vanilla girl #high value woman #coquette girl #soft feminine #pink academia #pink aesthetic #pink blog #girl blogger #girlblog

[hausofanya]

FANMADE VIDEO

[ AUTOMATED VOICE. ] hi. friendly neighborhood anyangi here back at it again with another highly requested cléo moments video. and since i love my wife, why the hell not. here’s a brief background for those who somehow got this on their youtube rec and don’t know who this absolute STUNNER is.

cléo, born cléo anya torell, is a member of the fucking powerhouse that is called stray kids. they are a idol group under jyp entertainment and she is their main vocalist. her voice is literal gold. she wasn’t called the golden voice in high school for nothing. don’t believe me? listen to this:

sorry for how long that was…. and i had to keep in that last run in because that cover was ELEGANT. genuinely gave me chills. yebba and cléo collab when… but anyway.

along with being a vocalist, she also writes, produces, raps, acts, and plays several instruments. SELF. TAUGHT. you just had to be there when she trolled an entire stadium worth of fans when rumors spread about her playing were thought to be ‘prerecorded’ in 2020. nobody in their right mind plays fucking megalovania to prove they’ve been playing piano since they were little. iconic tbh. you just had to be there.

since then, it’s sparked a trend for idols to play silly songs live to prove their musical abilities. notable performances by cléo also include coconut mall, the peanut’s theme, and an impressed rick roll in our lovely year of 2023.

( okay but megalovania though. 😭 of all songs i’m so weak— you would thinks she would have played something cute but NOOOO. it gives CHEESE energy a little bit. im so here for it. )

when you first get into stray kids, you probably think her being the only girl makes her the most sane one. people have that misconception with seungmin, too. that because they’re not as reactionary as the others, that they’re calm as hell. well i implore you to watch the skzcode episode where they did that horror house. felix may have been the scaredy cat when kittyracha had their turn, but by now we should know cléo is NAWT a fan of bugs.

the boys making her dig out the key through the slime was so cold 😭 the scream she let out ?? literally broke the sound barrier. ariana grade who… mariah carey where….

anyway, just don’t mention bugs around her and we’re good. because i would like to still be able to hear. and without further ado, here are my favorite cléo moments.

𖧷

— HYUNJIN X CLÉO 2KIDS EP

“…come to think of it, i knew you did ice skating. so i don’t know how the others didn’t. did you not tell them?”

cléo appears smug, seemingly recalling the moment the two had been talking about. the pair are talking about a moment shared back in their high school days, when comes to a surprise to the group that cléo knows how to ice skate.

“well, not professionally at least. like most things i know how to do, i taught myself how to skate. on ice and on skates, too.” she then pauses, confused. “i didn’t tell them? i’m sure that would have come up at random.”

“well, i remember complaining about you not teaching me.” hyunjin crosses his arms petulantly, much to cléo’s visibly growing amusement. “even when we were back in high school. you absolutely refused to teach me!”

cléo can’t hold her laugh in anymore, bursting into louder laughter as hyunjin’s complains rise in volume. it even amps up to them tussling over the throw pillows, cléo still laughing the entire time.

“it’s not like i had ill intentions? look—” cléo tries to quell his comically growing tantrum, but the fact that she’s still half laughing as she talks only fuels him the more.

“four years!” cléo sputters out a strangled laugh ( gasp? girl help … ) in response, startled at hyunjin’s sudden exclamation. “when i met you, you said you’d been skating for four years! you were depriving me—”

“you watch too much anime.”

“—of my— oh, shut up.” cléo snickers as he shoves her shoulder. “i could have been gliding on ice professionally by now.”

the mood suddenly takes a comical u-turn, with hyunjin pouting as cléo’s expression turns increasingly deadpanned—the way it normally does before she says something out of pocket. ( i’m already laughing pls help— 😭 )

“sweetheart.. with all due respect—and i’m going to touch your hand when i say this,” cléo starts, taking his hands in hers with a serious expression that leaves her friend dumbfounded. “just because you’re an amazing dancer doesn’t mean you’ll hold up well on ice. i didn’t bring up ice skating with you because when we went rollerblading you could barely stand up without clinging to the railing like a baby deer.”

cléo then turns to the camera with the same serious expression. “it took five people to peel his body off the floor. it was very embarrassing. someday i’ll post the pictures. maybe on his birthday.”

“wAIT NO—”

𖧷

— NCLÉO INTERVIEW #1

“you don’t wear heels?”

“not really. i’m already tall enough, i think.” cléo shuffles her hosting cards and smiles, gently tapping them against the bureau to straighten them out. “plus i heard it’s like an indirect insult to people under five feet seven to wear heels around them. i’m being respectful, yeah?”

johnny poorly hides a laugh into the collar of his shirt.

“i think it’s really admirable when men do it, though. no really! i’m actually serious,” cléo grins when her guests begin to laugh in surprise. “‘cause my legs absolutely check out within the first few hours. i don’t remember who it was, but i saw an idol kill a performance in stilettos. i can’t even do that. props to them for real. cause what use are my ankles when they can’t even execute their god-given purposes.”

( i really think this moment was unscripted cause girl looked genuinely confused when mark started choking on his water 😭😭😭 )

mark scurries off backstage as haechan falls over in his chair, his laugh almost bouncing off the studio walls as cléo looks on in bewilderment. ( IT WAS REAL TO HIM!! )

jaehyun wipes genuine tears from his eyes before looking off camera and descending into hysterics again. the camera pans to mark consulting a stylist ( who looks seconds from laughing herself ) about his drenched shirt, making everyone on set succumb back to laughter.

to add a cherry on top, cléo looks into the camera with wide eyes. “are these grounds to be sued.. sm entertainment i am so sorry.”

𖧷

— RED LIGHTS MAKING FILM

while chan and hyunjin are seemingly distracted going over choreography, cléo wanders off set still clad in her mv outfit much to the surprise of her assigned staff and cameraperson. they’re quick to pan the view over to her, where she looks to be scrutinizing the chained bed soon to be seen in the music video.

she then looks down at her outfit, white from head to toe just like her partners with chains locked around her body in crossing patterns, and stifles a shocked sound as if she’s had a revelation. it catches her bandmates’ attention, looking over at her as she turns around to meet their gazes.

“when we decided the concept was going to be sexy, i was thinking like. maybe skin showing. that’s normal. we do that all the time. this?” cléo points at the bed again, eyes wide, “this is straight up debauchery. stays are going to pass out. most of them are kids! i don’t want to be responsible for emotional and financial compensation!”

hyunjin nearly falls over at how distressed she looks, just about crumpling to the ground in laughter as chan looks at the camera for assistance. getting none, especially with his partners in various states of hysterics, he sighs and looks up to the ceiling for strength.

“christopher! think of the children! and—” cléo clutches at her heart as if pain, amping up the theatrics as hyunjin practically writhes on the floor. “the PARENTS. what are we going to do when we perform this and there are PARENTS IN THE CROWD.”

staff can be heard stifling their laughter as chan genuinely looks at a loss for words. his disbelief is almost tangible as he turns to stare at the bed as well, which is ultimately what makes cléo’s façade crack before she starts giggling.

“we should add a viewer discretion before the performance. ‘warning: may include vigorous gyrating and writhing on the floor. may also include—’”

cléo is lovingly cut off by a hand over her mouth, an amusedly ticked off chan dragging her away from the camera to the sound of hyunjin cackling in the background.

𖧷

— NO BADDIES, NO BADDIES, NO CAR…

“so i hear you’re an nct fan. an nctzen? czennie, i think is what they’re called.”

“yeah!” cléo responds enthusiastically to the interviewer, beaming brightly at the camera. “i’ve interviewed them myself, too. great band of great people. fun and fresh.”

“that’s exactly what i wanted to talk to you about actually.” cléo looks mildly surprised, but shifts in her seat to face the interviewer more directly. “you always credit one of your best friends as the reason why you’ve become such a big fan of other groups.”

“no, definitely. moniqa’s always been a big part of my life, so it’s natural her likes kinda bleed into mine a bit, you know?” the interviewer nods, making cléo smile faintly. “right. so please don’t take this lightly when i say she’s the biggest nctzen i know.”

cléo laughs as the small studio audience cheers, prompting her to point off camera. “they get it!”

“so moniqa is the reason why you’ve listed all these groups as your current favorites.”

“oh, yeah. i kinda regret making my personal spotify public cause now people can see what i listen to 24/7. cause the amount of people who were like ‘STRAY KIDS NCT COLLAB???’ just because hot sauce or ay-yo would come on shuffle were so—”

cléo buries her face in her hands in exaggerated fashion as the set laughs.

“stop reading into my listens so hard! i just like music!”

“so speaking of music, i heard you got into a bit of a heated debate over a song with moniq—oh.” the interviewer looks surprised as cléo’s expression morphs into one of passive smugness, quickly wiped off just when the camera shifts to her. “what—”

“hm?”

“you just—”

“so we were playing a game,” cléo starts, purposely ignoring the interviewer grasping at straws, which makes the audience laugh. “where we had to guess the song that came up just by the first couple of notes. me being the competitive person i am, who just so happened to be influenced by the biggest nctzen i know, kept getting neck to neck ties with moniq. and i could tell it was pissing her off a little bit. cause admittedly, i was being a little sh—.”

( they really censored her like that…. 🙄😒 )

“and she got designer by 127 WRONG. which was so funny to me.” pausing when the interviewer looks confused, she reiterates, “it was on the same album as two baddies! you know… two baddies, two baddies, one ridiculously expensive car… and speaking on two baddies—”

( 🎶 TWO BADDIES TWO BADDIES ONE PORSCHE 🎶 )

“—i did my research when that song dropped.”

the interviewers audibly sputters, nearly dropping his cue cards. “you did research?”

“a porsche can fit five people,” cléo continues as if she hadn’t heard him, making the audience laugh again. “what happened to the other two baddies. can’t believe they would kick two other baddies to the curb like that. what did the other two baddies do? all four of them could fit in my rover.”

“you have a rover—”

“and that’s not considering extra optional third row seating. so not only are there now ZERO baddies in your porsche, now you’re stuck paying for the car your bought to impress them. kai had a vision when he chose a rover. and i’m inclined to agree.”

( the interviewer was too stunned to speak… 😭 )

the set is in hysterics by the time she stops talking, even the camera work shaking as the person struggles to keep the frame straight. what’s worse is that cléo looks completely serious, making the interviewer huff a disbelieving laugh.

“should we call you miss rover then?”

“please look forward to my solo album,” cléo tacks on the joke, complete with a bow that makes him laugh. “i’ll ask a neo who can drive to feature on the title track.”

( GIRL I— 😭😭😭😭 )

𖧷

— RUN KITTY RUN ( COFFEE WITH THE BOYZ )

“—welcome members sangyeon, eric, kevin, and juyeon of the boyz!”

the audience claps as the four walk out on the cushioned set, smiling and waving at the camera before they bow and sit down, cléo and guest co-host moniq doing the same. cléo waits for the cheers to die down before she speaks…

…and promptly forgets every word in both the english and korean language when she locks eyes with sangyeon.

the boys looks confused when cléo doesn’t speak for a moment, looking amongst themselves as she stares down at her cue cards in a mixture of embarrassment and bewilderment. it doesn’t help that moniq is starting to catch on, formerly confused before she remembers the episode’s guests—

and also promptly begins to cackle. obnoxiously loud.

( THE WAY CLÉO JUMPED 😭😭😭 … )

with sudden abruptness, cléo stands up from her chair, makes a slow bow in their direction, bucks at moniq ( which only makes her laugh even harder 😭 ), and books it off set. dragging her producer off with her.

the boyz members only look on in varying degrees of amusement and confusion as moniq struggles to explain between bits of laughter about how cléo had been equal parts nervous and excited for this episode, being a huge fan of the group, smiling in good nature as all four of them relax and laugh as well.

“if she comes out, we promise to give her a signed album,” kevin pipes up with a grin. an unidentified sound wafts up from backstage, which makes everyone succumb back into laughter. moniq is holding her stomach at this point, seconds away from tears streaming down her face.

moniq calls cléo’s name sweetly, a shit eating grin on her face. but she doesn’t have to wait long before cléo makes her reappearance. only… not on her own.

much to the studio audience’s surprise, ends up being bodily carried back to her hosting seat by security. she’s propped in place like a doll, her head hung low in embarrassment, and moniq lasts about 0.03 seconds after personnel gingerly fixes flyway strand of hair before she starts laughing.

“i want that album after the show,” cléo points at kevin seriously, causing him to snicker quietly as she plasters on a smile and continues with the interview as if nothing happened.

𖧷

[ AUTOMATED VOICE. ] and there you have it. i would have included more, but we would be here forever and i’m sure you have places to go and people to see.

if this video hasn’t already made you want to check out stray kids’ resident cat girl then i really don’t know what else to tell you. she’s funny, hot, and extremely relatable. she truly is just like me. and her voice. i cannot stress her voice enough. siren like. i would lose myself at sea willingly.

🤷‍♀️ i really would.

anyway that’s all for now. see you guys in the next video!

#[ fanbase. ] #she’s just like me fr 🫂 #fictional idol community #fictional idol oc #fictional idol addition #fictional kpop community #fictional kpop oc #fictional kpop idol #skz 9th member #skz added member #skz addition #skz female addition

[writeformesinpie]

Seaside Temptation

Lee Minho x Fem!Reader

Summary - It’s the fourth day of your three week vacation and although you should be enjoying your time off, all you can think about is the mysterious and provocative stranger you keep running into on the beach, and all the dirty things you want him to do to you. 

Genre - Smut / Strangers to lovers

Warnings - Explicit sexual content, swearing, unprotected sex, beach sex, it’s a little rough, he’s a tad savage,

Word Count - 2.4k

A/N - This is part of the Summer Love Stray Kids Collab hosted by @jeonronwoo​. It is a little late 🥺 but I have finally finished it!!! I like how this one turned out <3

   It’s tempting.

   The pool’s arctic blue depths glisten, cool and inviting as if begging you to dip your toes in. Ocean waves harmonise from behind the hotel, their twisted song beckoning. The smell of salt is moist in the air. Wind circles your body as you pass through the outdoor area, heading for the gate that leads to the building's private beach entrance.

   It’s empty. A few people are scattered across the vast area, but nothing compared to the crowd that will grow as the sun continues to rise, the blistering heat burning happy tourists with reckless abandon. But not yet. The sun is only starting to peek out from the horizon, sleepy and unsure as you make your way down to the surf.

   He’s here.

   He’s been here the last few mornings, always disappearing before the hotel’s guests start to pack in and fill the pale sand with their colourful beach towels and umbrellas. Like you, he’s alone.

   This was meant to be your honeymoon but the groom got cold feet at the last minute. It just wasn’t meant to be. If you’re being honest with yourself, you knew long before the wedding fell through that it was destined to fail but you were too stubborn to give up first. Splitting up feels like a punch to the gut regardless of the decision being mutual. Being rejected like that did a number on your self esteem.

   Though, it isn’t all bad. You ended up with a three week all expense paid vacation for your trouble.

   Now you can stare as much as you like at the wandering man without having to deal with a nosy significant other judging you. The advantage of being alone means you have no one watching your every move.

   He’s wearing a tracksuit today, but when he turns at the right angle the thin material pulls across his body and you can see just how toned he is underneath.

   You want to see more.

   The last few mornings he’s stopped to admire the view before walking into the hotel. Today isn’t an exception. Mere feet from where you lie spread out on the sand, he turns to look out towards the horizon. The beauty of the orange and gold light pales in comparison to the man in awe of it. He’s gorgeous.

   “The water looks nice this morning,” you say, your voice low as you clamber to get into a better position. He doesn’t look at you, just nodding before turning back towards the hotel. “Ah, aren’t you going to go for a swim?”

   “I’m not really a strong swimmer.” He cocks his head. His purple hair flickers from the simple movement as he peers over at you from the corner of his eye before continuing on his way down the trail.

   “Oh.” Scrambling to your feet, you follow closely behind him. “But, then, why a beach resort?”

   He twists around, a small frown on his face as he looks you up and down. “Do I know you?”

   “No.”

   “Then why are you talking to me?”

   “I’m, I–” You chuckle, rubbing the back of your neck as heat spreads across your face. “I just thought you looked cute.”

   “Cute?” His brow quirks and his eyes explore your body lazily, taking his time to appraise every inch as you squirm under his heavy stare. “Just cute?”

   “Is that not something people say anymore?” Your skin burns due to both the sun and your lack of flirting skills which have you second guessing yourself. It’s been a while since you’ve been single; was it always this hard?

   “Cute? It sounds like something you call a pet, or someone you want to friendzone. You’re trying to make a move, aren’t you?” He smirks at your flabbergasted reaction, your mouth opening and closing like a pufferfish. “Am I wrong?”

   “I mean, no,” you stutter under your breath. Your gaze drops to the sand as you shuffle your feet. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

   “Why?”

   “Nevermind.” Your shoulders slump as you collect your belongings, a frown adorning your face. What a dick. It’s not that big of a deal – if he isn’t interested he should have just said so instead of making you feel stupid.

   “You’re backing down already?” Blocking the gate’s entrance, he starts to crack his knuckles one by one. “I thought you’d have more fight than that.”

   “Why should I fight to get someone's attention who’s clearly not interested?”

   “Why not? Aren’t you bored? Isn’t that why you’re here?”

   “Excuse me?” Your eyebrow twitches as you place one hand on your hip, the other holding your towel and knapsack.

   “Bored housewife? Lonely widow?” His eyes flicker to your hand then back to your face. Following his line of sight, you realise he saw the lack of tan around one of your fingers. Your ring finger, to be exact. “What desperate plight has you ending up here?”

   “Broken engagement. Not that it’s any business of yours. Will you move?”

   He smirks at you, holding his ground for a few moments before shifting to the side, bowing down in an obnoxious ‘ladies first’ gesture. Rolling your eyes, you hold your head high and sashay past him, letting him see what he’s missing.

   “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he says before chuckling at your raised middle finger.

   You promised yourself that you wouldn’t come down to the beach the next day yet that’s exactly where you are, sitting on your black and white beach towel despite the absence of sun making it obvious that you aren’t here to sunbathe.

   This is ridiculous. And not like you at all. He’s not even that cute. Well, that’s not entirely true. He’s stunning, no use in lying about it, but just because he’s traffic-stopping gorgeous doesn’t excuse his shitty behaviour. So why are you here?

   Why are you here?

   Shaking your head, you stand up and brush yourself off before collecting your towel. You head straight towards the hotel's gate before coming face to face with him. His smile is breathtaking, somehow both genuine and playful.

   “Good, you’re here,” he says, grabbing your hand to lead you away from the hotel and down the shoreline.

   “Wait. What are you doing?”

   “I’m sharing an experience with you. One weary traveller to another.”

   Cryptic.

   Tightening your grip on his hand, you scurry behind him in an attempt to keep up, hoping you aren’t about to be murdered and abandoned in some ditch. You witnessed an intensity burning within him yesterday, the look of his eyes commanding and willful, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he was a serial killer.

   He looks over his shoulder, warmth radiating out from his every pore as his small smile turns into a reassuring grin. There are worse ways to go. He turns off the trail and leads you towards the tree line. You push the branches aside as he leads you further into the dense flora.

   “Where are we going?”

   “You’ll see.”

   Ominous.

   Wondering if you should pull back and run the other way, you start to slow, your hands almost separating as he keeps up his current pace.

   “We’re almost there.”

   “Almost where?”

   He just smiles, tightening his grip on your hand, dragging you along the old, faint path now covered with weeds and vines. The lush green forest starts to thin out until it opens up to reveal the vast horizon. On the edge of a cliff overlooking the beach you had just come from, your eyes widen in reverence as your beach towel falls to the ground.

   “This is amazing!” You run towards the cliff's edge but before you can get there he pulls you back.

   “Be careful. We’re quite high,” he says with a slight tilt to his voice.

   You eye him for a moment before chuckling. “You can’t swim and you're scared of heights? Why did you come up here?”

   “It’s peaceful up here.” He shrugs, letting go of your hand, a faint shade of pink spreading across his cheeks. Is he trying to impress you? “Sometimes it’s just nice to get away from everyone for a while.”

   “It is. Peaceful, I mean,” you say glancing around the area, careful not to move closer to the edge. It’s nice of him to bring you to his space. He doesn’t strike you as the type of guy that does that often.

   The sun shines through the trees, surrounding him with a halo of light. Each dip and curve of his glorious face is illuminated by the rays of light, as if even the sun wants to touch him. He looks angelic, but from your small interactions thus far you can’t help think he’s anything but.

   As if reading your thoughts he turns to stare at you over his shoulder, a mischievous grin on his lips.

   “I’ve seen you watching me,” he says, taking a step towards you. When you start to deny it, he cuts you off, “I’ve been watching you, too.”

   He takes another step, now close enough to touch.

   “I want you and I know you want me.” His voice is smug as he cups your face, his stare intense enough to make your heart falter, as if he’s trying to communicate without words. Heat spreads out across your face – you feel like an object being evaluated.

   His lips press down on yours and you wonder if you passed, or if he just decided you were good enough. He doesn’t look like the type to settle, but he also doesn’t seem like the type to settle down. Which must be why he chose you. Safe. A vacation fling. You aren’t someone he plans to keep around. He’s not the type of guy to–

   “Get out of your head.”

   “What?”

   “I can see your mind buzzing around at a hundred miles an hour,” he says with a chuckle, snaking a hand under your blouse to untie your bikini top and trace patterns across your skin. “Just listen to your body. Don’t think about what you need to do later. Don’t worry about tomorrow. Just feel what’s happening between us right now. Feel this moment.”

   Feel this moment?

   He peppers kisses along your jaw and grabs your ass, pulling you flush against his chest. The faint scent of berries mixes with the smell of salt from the ocean below as you brush your hands through his hair. You wonder what shampoo he uses before the words punctuate your brain again.

   Feel this moment.

   Get out of your head. Let the sound of the crashing waves dancing with the glistening rocks below guide you, the calming rhythm in direct opposition with the erratic beating of your heart. Erratic? Is it beating too hard? Is there something wrong? You shouldn’t have cancelled that appointment with your doctor. This always happens, right when things are settling down from the last disaster–

   “I’m not going to tell you again,” he says, his voice guttural. Fierce, piercing eyes sparkle playfully, a glint of danger lurking within.

   “I didn’t–”

   “I see I’m going to have to make it so you can’t think of anything else,” he says, pulling your head back, his fingers tangled in your hair. “Think only of me.”

   A jolt of pleasure ripples out from deep within your core and heat sweeps out across your skin. He flicks his head to the side, his dark violet hair floating for a moment before settling back to tease the edges of his face. God, he’s so hot.

   He gives you a knowing smile then pulls you towards him, the heat of his body adding to yours. His lips trail across your jawline with delicate pressure, as if you’re something to be cherished. You’re not so frail that you’ll break.

   Moaning, you arch your back, pressing into him further. There’s a burning desire building within you that you’ve never felt before. He’s burning his scent across your skin, branding himself into your very being and you can’t think of anything you want more.

   “If we were back in my hotel room I’d throw you down on your knees and fuck you right here and now.” The words are primal, all husk and rasp. Grasping your neck painfully, he bites into the tender flesh until you cry out. “I have half a mind to do it anyway.”

   His eyes that seep into your every thought confirm he’s dead serious. His eyes are those of a predator. You’re his prey. Swallowing hard, you look down at the gravel trail covered in moss and grass. While you really don’t want to touch it let alone be fucked into it, you really want him inside you.

   “Don’t worry,” he says before you can decide, nudging you towards a particularly thick pine tree. “I’ll let you stay on your feet. This time, at least.”

   Leaning back against the tree you can barely hear him as your heart starts to pulse, filling your eardrums with the rhythmic beat. The image of this man forged by the gods themselves having his way with you has your pussy throbbing in anticipation as heat pools between your trembling legs.

   “Take off your panties,” he whispers against your neck as he nibbles on your ear. Twisting down you drag the bottom part of your bikini set off and hold them out towards him like a prize.

   Spinning you around, he leaves you holding the damp material as he hikes up your skirt, pushing you up against the tree. Bark digs into your skin as he slips his thick cock inside and releases a long sigh.

   “Shit, you’re tight,” he says, the words muffled as he bites down on the space between your neck and shoulder. Pleasure and pain ignite and waves of tantalizing ecstasy ripple out across your skin, your pussy pulsating around his dick.

   “I barely put it in and you’re already coming?” He continues to thrust into your wet core, squelches mixing with the serene hum of the ocean, each movement faster than the last as he plunges deep into your needy cunt. “I hope you’re ready. I’m going to fuck you ‘til you can’t stand.”

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this content! If you did, please consider liking, commenting, reblogging and/or following, and check out my masterlist for similar content. Have a great day!

#lee minho #stray kids #lee know x reader #lee know smut #lee minho x reader #lee minho smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #kpop x reader #kpop smut #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #kpop #stray kids oneshot #kpop fanfic #skz #skz lee know #skz smut #skz fanfic #female reader #writeformesinpie

[kkurades]

ASAP ━━━━━ literal stray kids

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

CHAN can’t remember a time where he wasn’t enchanted by you. your looks, voice and lyrics verses always managed to capture his heart so when he found out that you were a fan of 3racha he just had to collab with you and hopefully make you fall in love with him just like he is with you.

prev | masterlist | next

# BANG CHAN | stray kids member, is convinced that he was made to write songs ab yn, discovered yn & her music when he was throwing up in an elevator after a concert, is friends with hongjoong but is too shy to ask for yn’s number, emotionally unstable

# LEE KNOW | stray kids member, only reason why he hasn’t quit his job & moved to a different country is bc he needs money to pay for his cats’ expensive food, is convinced he’s always right

# SEO CHANGBIN | stray kids member, knows he has a fine ass and let’s everyone and their mother know it as well, has met yn when they had to film a tiktok together & rubbed it in chan’s face for weeks (he cried)

# HWANG HYUNJIN | stray kids member, has the need to admire himself in every mirror for a solid six minutes, complains about everything & complains when people complain to him

# HAN JISUNG | stray kids member, mostly just sits prettily & watches, is actually yn’s cousin & forgot to mention it to the others (spoiler alert: chan will cry when he’ll find out)

# LEE FELIX | stray kids member, is a stress baker, needs therapy but gaslights himself into believing he doesn’t, every time he eats chicken he giggles & says he’s a cannibal (someone called the cops on him when he said that out loud in public)

# KIM SEUNGMIN | stray kids member, is the nr. 1 chan hater, gets weird when he’s around girls & that creeps them out, gives himself the princess treatment

# YANG JEONGIN | stray kids member, forces changbin to sing the rap part from maknae on top at least thrice a day, twirls his non-existing long hair when he’s blushing

## NOTES — sorry that I didn’t update yesterday 😔 i was just working on another skz series bc i finally had enough motivation to write smth again 💪 I’ll probably release it once I’ve finished writing all of it & I’m halfway done 😋

## TAGLIST — @end0rchans , @alyszaen , @soulphoenix1618 , @what-the-y2k , @sanriiolino , @sullystraw , @miin17 ( open )

#🎧 asap #kpop smau #bang chan smau #bang chan #bang chan x reader #skz bang chan #stray kids smau #stray kids social media au #stray kids x reader #stray kids #skz x reader #skz social media au #skz smau

[goddessapostle]

How to Survive your Haunted House

Fandom: Bungo Stray Dogs Characters: Chuuya, GN!Reader, Elise Summary: “You look like an Emma,” you told her after several minutes of staring at each other. This did not please her. Her expression shifted from bored curiosity to ferocious rage. She stomped and ran at you, passing through your body with no more than a cool wind. When you turned around, she was gone. Should you be more concerned about living in a haunted house? Probably. But it’s your house, ghost or no, and nothing’s going to scare you off. Not even when she’s nothing more than a shadow watching you attempt sleep.

10.7k // AO3 // Masterlist

A/N: This is part of @thecoffeelovingfreak’s halloween collab, Season of the Witch!! I was so excited for this collab, I wrote….. a whole lot. This is the longest one-shot I’ve ever written, coming in at a whopping 10k words!!@_@ Anyway, I hope you enjoy!!

The weight is unusual.

The noise you’re already used to; your keychain is always jingling against whatever else you’ve shoved in your pocket.

But this weight? This is new.

A thrill runs up your spine as your fingers brush the metal, warmed by your body heat. You pull your pocket open to peek inside. You know you have the biggest, goofiest grin spread across your face, but you just can’t help it. You can’t stop. You refuse to stop.

Even when your boss smacks the back of your head as he walks by. Even when your feet ache as you make your way to your car. Even when you find your mailbox half-buried in the roadside weeds for the fourth time this week.

You right your mailbox with a smile and a zip tie. Lets see those kids knock it off this time!

And then you open the gate to your new house.

It’s small and old and, if you’re being honest, kind of ugly. A drab gray in color, except for the lilac window shutters. Situated on a not-quite acre of patchy grass that’s only green-ish, bordered by a tall brick fence that’s only red-ish. It’s a cliché Halloween house, and you’re proud to call it home.

Or maybe that’s just the rush of euphoria brought on by the first taste of freedom since getting your driver’s license.

The rickety steps creak under your weight, and the crooked banister sticks another bunch of splinters in your palm — six in all, one for every day since you moved in. 

The key seems to burn when you remove it from your pocket.

The front door takes some jimmying (and a couple kicks) to open fully; the wood must be swollen, you decide, from the morning rain. You walk through the front hall, ignoring both the open doorways to other rooms and the little girl that stands between them, and straight up the staircase to the master suite. There, you shirk your work clothes and take the nicest, longest bubble bath in the enormous tub.

It’s the perfect start to your three-day weekend.

And then your stomach flips into your chest, and you realize you haven’t eaten in hours.

The little girl is at the bottom of the stairs when you reach the top. She glares up at you with the most adorable pout, and you can’t help but smile and wave back to her. It makes her stomp her foot and turn, mouth open to call for… well, you’re not really sure. A parent? A friend? A dog of some kind?

She begins to fade, starting from the tips of her Mary Janes and traveling up her poofy red dress. “See you later, Emma!” you call down to her. You glimpse another sharp glare just before she disappears completely.

Your stomach gives a low rumble, reminding you of why you were on the stairs in the first place.

You’d heard rumors about the ghosts before you moved in. About the house besieged with death. A bloody history filled with everything from murders to suicides to just plain tragedies. Everyone in town had a story. Some personal experiences, other general anecdotes.

The most prominent being the tale of the doctor and his daughter.

Their names have been lost to a game of historical telephone(something with an ‘R’, no, a ‘K’; wait, that was the other one–), but the story persists: one summer day, the doctor left town. He came back a week later with a child in his arms. No one was sure who the mother was — the doctor never told. But he claimed the child as his. All was well, until the doctor lost his hospital and was on the verge of losing his home. So he did the only logical thing he could think of — emphasis on ‘he’.

He killed his daughter and then himself. Their blood stained the walls in a morbid painting.

You don’t know if the story is true; all the newspapers were lost when a fire tore through the old library records around twenty years after the incident. The only thing that survived was a small photograph with a charred bottom corner. It’s hung on the wall of the current library, black and white and grainy, as part of a mural of the town’s history.

While the photo was nearly indecipherable when you first saw it, you can tell now that the girl in it and the girl in your house are the same. They have the same wide-set eyes, the same light and curly hair; they’re even wearing similar dresses — though the one in the photo is a deeper color, not the same dull maroon as the one in the house.

There were no names attached to the photo, so you had no idea what to call her when she just showed up three days after you moved in. “You look like an Emma,” you told her after several minutes of staring at each other. This did not please her. Her expression shifted from bored curiosity to ferocious rage. She stomped and ran at you, passing through your body with no more than a cool wind. When you turned around, she was gone.

Should you be more concerned about living in a haunted house? Probably. But it’s your house, ghost or no, and nothing’s going to scare you off.

Not even when she’s nothing more than a shadow watching you attempt sleep.

You peek open an eye and scan the room.

You don’t see her, at first. She’s crouched in the corner, hidden behind the closet door that just won’t stay closed. You’d probably have to nail it to keep it shut, but what would be the use of a closet you can’t open at all?

She’s not all there, right now, not even a recognizable silhouette. Just a wisp of herself, dark and vague. She doesn’t respond so much when she’s like this. You don’t know if that’s an energy thing or a personality thing. A princess that doesn’t deign to speak with a commoner. She was rather spoiled by her father, after all, before he slit her throat.

“I see you,” you say. She must have liked Hide-and-go-Seek. That closet was probably her favorite hiding spot; she’s behind it a lot.

You feel a gaze crawl across your bed to land on your face. You give her a smile, and she decides to stand–

That’s not Emma.

That is not Emma.

Or maybe it’s just the dark. Maybe it only looks three heads taller than her. Maybe she can fly. Ghosts can fly, right?

The thing in the corner jerks forward.

It doesn’t move like a human.

The closet door slams shut.

You scramble to the opposite side of the bed and fall to the floor. That thing — person? It’s person-shaped. A lithe torso. Two… arms? Maybe? And a head that’s twisted just a touch too far to one side. A person-shaped blob of smoke.

Ha. Ha. That’s funny. That’s funny, right?

You press your back against the wall.

It creeps over your covers.

One smokey tendril reaches out. It brushes the hair above your ear–

And then it’s gone. The room warms without the presence of the whatever-that-thing-was-you’re-getting-some-sage-tomorrow. Except maybe it’s not gone? There’s something heavy in your chest — ah, wait, that’s just your heart, half-exploded.

Okay. So. There are two ghosts in your house.

Emma, who you’ve only ever seen on the first floor, now that you think about it.

And whatever that thing was. It’s not the first time you’ve seen it. You thought it was her. Emma. The doctor’s daughter. It showed up the same night you first saw her.

Why did it decide to move tonight? It usually stays crouched in that corner. What does it do? It watches you, you know, but why?

Is it the doctor? Someone else? Something else?

Your heart slows to its natural beat, but your limbs are still filled with jelly. You reach a hand out on the bed and find it cold where the thing was kneeling on it.

The door slams again, and you jump a foot into the air.

Fuck this. You snatch your pillow and blanket (both still cold) and run downstairs for the living room couch.

  Your three-day weekend is spent cleaning up — both physically and spiritually. You light some sage to smolder while you clear out the cobwebs you missed in your first few passes of the house. You dust and sweep and vacuum and mop. You have a housewarming party planned for later that you need a spotless house for. Then you watch Ghost Hunters: International while you wait on a load of clothes to finish washing.

  It looks a lot more dramatic than the ghosts you have, but it’s on one of the few channels you get right now and it’s kind of pertinent to your situation. One of the investigators points out a white spot zooming across the frame in one of the cameras and calls it an orb. A different investigator plays back some warbly audio and claims it saying ‘murderer’ over and over. Yet another investigator takes off his vest and shirt to reveal three scratches running the length of his back.

The washing machine beeps. You turn off the tv and go collect your laundry.

Sure, the show had similar experiences — they used thermal cameras to catch shifts in temperature, and they saw an apparition of an old man in the window before they entered the house. But it just wasn’t convincing.

Your ghosts are different. The show claimed they were just leftover memories from when someone was alive. That they can’t interact with living people.

Which simply isn’t true. Emma never spoke to you, but she responded. And then that thing last night touched your hair. You felt that.

So the show is all a bunch of hullabaloo.

The day outside is clear and crisp. A gentle breeze rolls down the hill to you and your laundry. You hum as you walk out to the clothesline, glad that the sun is shining so bright. Your clothes will be dry in no time!

You hang them up and sigh as you take in the view. If the front of the house looks bad, the back looks worse. One of the boarded-up windows is empty of glass — you’ve got someone coming to take a look at that next month — and there are scraps of paint peeling away from the gray wood beneath. The grass is even less green. Two garden beds house dead or dying rose bushes. There’s a shadow in the–

Your blood runs cold. There’s a shadow in your bedroom, looking out the window. Looking at you. It disappears when it catches you staring back.

Isn’t sage supposed to get rid of ghosts? You haven’t seen Emma since you lit it. Maybe because it’s not in the same room? You haven’t been upstairs yet. That must be it! You just need to smudge it separately!

You start towards the back door–

Didn’t you shut it?

You stop a good six feet from the porch. The back door hangs open. Its hinges give the quietest of squeaks as it drifts gently back and forth as you watch.

Just the wind, surely. There’s nothing actively moving the door. And it makes sense that it’s open. You had your hands full when you left. You just couldn’t close it. Yeah. That’s what happened.

Crash!

You land on your ass. A roof tile lays shattered between your legs. It would have landed right on your head had you not fallen back.

A chill runs down your spine. You tear your gaze away from the tile to meet the eyes of the spectre in your window. Pure fear pierces your heart.

You run inside to grab the bowl of burning sage and race up the stairs. You kick the door open and thrust the bowl out in front of you as you enter.

No one is there. The spectre is gone.

Your legs shake as you step into the hall. A flash of blonde catches your eye as you start down the stairs — so Emma isn’t gone, either. You glare at the sage in your hand before tossing it in the trash.

Screw the cleaning. Your clothes are out drying, but you don’t need to be home for that. And everyone has off days; your friends aren’t judgemental and the house is presentable enough.

You leave the danger of your home for the library. The earlier records may have been destroyed, but the house has been standing for a hundred years since. There has to be something out there.

But how to search for such a thing?

You go to the computers first and type in the house’s address. It pulls up twenty years of realtor advertisements. It’s changed hands at least seven times in that period; it ends with the tragic death of a Eugene Davis, hit by a car as he exited for school one morning. The driver was never found, and the family moved out the summer after. It’s been empty since — until you bought it one year later.

Further back you find more.

Dozens of names on the victim list, at least one every two years, but often more. In no particular order: Kouyou Ozaki was shot by an ex-lover. Chuuya Nakahara was found on top of the fence, speared through the chest by the iron spikes. Michizou Tachihara was beheaded by a corrugated metal sheet during a remodel. Ryuunosuke Akutagawa was killed during a home invasion, but not before taking out the three men attempting to assault his sister.

The longest the house has gone without incident is thirty-two years — while Gin Akutagawa, Ryuunosuke’s little sister, lived there. But whatever miracle protected her ran out, because she disappeared one day and is currently presumed dead.

It’s a chilling list. Not just how long it is, but how gruesome as well. You touch your chest where the spike had gone through Chuuya, then rub your neck where it had been separated from Michizou’s head. 

Gruesome.

Had they felt any pain?

There’s no way to know, unless…

Maybe the thing in your room is one of them. The people that died on the property. But there’s so many. Is there a cause for it? And why wasn’t it mentioned when you bought the damn house? You pull up the advertisements that led you to it in the first place, but they’re all devoid of any type of warning.

“You don’t want that one.” A deep voice pulls you from your thoughts. A man stands at your shoulder, staring into the computer screen. “It’s cursed.”

“Oh, really?” you say. Your sarcasm is either lost on the man, or ignored by him. His lips tighten into a thin line.

“Really. But I have a feeling it’s too late to warn you away.” Ignored, then. He takes a card from his notebook and sets it on the desk in front of you. “If you need any help,” he says by way of explaination.

And then he’s gone, stalked off on his lanky legs to some annoying-looking brunet hiding in the shelves. You examine the card he left behind.

Doppo Kunikida, it reads, Lead Investigator, the Astral Devoiding Agency. Ghost hunters, if you had to guess.

Well. Now you know the house is really dangerous.

That thought in mind, you decide to do a little shopping once you leave the library.

When you return home, your mailbox is gone. You sigh at the empty post and dig around in the weeds, but you can’t find it anywhere. The zip tie you do find, snapped just below the head underneath some… poison ivy, you think.

It can just stay there for now.

The shadows stretch in the evening sun, spreading the spiked tips of the fence across your legs. You frown up at them and wonder where, exactly, Chuuya died. It’s been… fifty years, almost. Though any evidence is long gone, you can’t help but wonder. There are rust-colored splotches all around the top.

Emma is waiting for you when you walk in. She seems to be in a good mood; she smiles and waves at you. You smile back. “What’s up?”

Her mouth moves, but no sound comes out. By the time she stops speaking, she looks excited for something. Footsteps sound above your head.

Emma hops in place.

You stare up at the ceiling. Then you pull your newly-bought pocket knife from its bag.

The footsteps keep moving. You hear them wander down the hall and into your bedroom.

There’s a great clatter, then silence. Emma points up the stairs and places a ghostly hand on your back. Goosebumps rise around it.

You make your way up the stairs, holding the blade of the knife in front of you. Your bedroom door stands open into the hall, and across from it….

Your mailbox. You stop to stare at it. The knife shakes in your hand.

“You should really lock your doors.”

You turn your knife to the man in your doorway. The only thing you see is a flash of teeth that disappear as soon as you look at it.

Later that evening, as you’re changing for the housewarming party, you notice a bruise on your chest. A dark blotch just below your collar, with five thin, spotty growths spreading from it.

It’s a bruise shaped like a damn hand.

The couch isn’t comfy. You don’t want it anymore. It’s old and lumpy and has quite a few questionable stains. (Is that one juice or wine? Or could it be blood? That one is hopefully spaghetti sauce. And, um, that one looks like…. Gross.)

 It came with the house, like most of the furniture, and it just needs to be thrown away. You can’t exactly afford a new one, though, so you’re stuck with this one. You just can’t sleep on it.

And that is how you found yourself back in your bed. In your room. With the mysterious shadow-ghost-man.

You hate it. But you have to work tomorrow, so you suck it up like an adult(have you ever mentioned how much you hate being a real adult?) and snuggle deep under your comforter. Hopefully it, or he, or them — how many people died in this house, again? —won’t be able to get you. 

Whatever. It’s a well-known fact that monsters can’t get you when you’re tucked up under your covers. 

They can, however, make themselves known.

A weight settles in behind you. An arm wraps around your waist.

“I know you’re in there, Sweetheart.”

That’s the voice. The same voice that told you to lock your door(which you totally had). You hold your breath and hope he goes away.

He doesn’t. Instead he shifts closer, close enough to chill you beneath the blanket, to whisper in your ear. “Sorry about the other day,” he says. “Just wanted to get it over with.”

Get what over with?

You give yourself approximately two seconds to think it over, then, “What do you mean?”

“I’d get out if I were you.” Is-is that a threat? In your own home? In your own bed?

“This is my house,” you scoff, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Your funeral.”

His tone may be mawkish, but was that a hint of sincerity just below that?

His weight shifts away from you, but doesn’t leave the bed. You lower your blanket a smidge — just enough to peek.

Damn, you’re glad the sun hasn’t set yet, or you’d never be able to see how goddamn gorgeous he is. Burnt orange hair curling up to frame his face. A lithe body reclined on your bed. Toned arms spread across your pillows as he cradles his head in his hands. Long, luxurious lashes that rest against his cheeks.

He is, pun intended, drop-dead gorgeous.

“Take a picture,” he says without opening his eyes, “it’ll last longer.”

“Sure,” you say sarcastically, “let me take a picture of the non-physical entity taking up half my bed.” He says nothing, just smiles. “Would you even show up?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs.

You stare. He opens one storm-gray eye to meet your gaze. “Here.” He reaches over you to pluck your phone from the bedside table and drops it on your half-covered face. “Picture. I’ll even turn to my good side.”

“Would that be the side that’s more or less transparent?” You roll your eyes, but take the phone anyway.

Sure enough, he’s just a smudge of darkness in the photo. If he weren’t still lying there in front of you, you’d just think the lens was dirty. You show him with a triumphant smile. “See? You don’t show up!”

“Guess you have no choice but to stare, eh?” He gives you a wicked grin that sends your heart flying.

And then you realize you’re talking to a ghost and roll over under the covers again. “I have work in the morning,” you tell him, “so be quiet.”

You don’t expect to sleep, but you also don’t hear a peep from him for the entire night. He’s gone when you wake up, but the memory of his smile remains through the day.

The man shows himself here and there, mostly to tease you. A gentle push into a counter that knocks you off balance. Appearing in a corner of the room you’re in. Even crawling into your bed at night for what you can only assume is cuddling. He hasn’t spoken since that first night, but he’s got plenty of personality.

Just another ghost, you guess. Emma and… Hopper, you decide. A dapper name for a dapper man. Emma doesn’t seem to like the name you’ve chosen for her, and there’s no telling if Hopper will, but until they tell you their names, they are stuck with the ones you made up.

It takes a month of calling him that for Hopper to show up again.

“Emma! Hopper! I’m back!” you call into your empty house. A chill crawls up your spine as you shut the door, but there’s no one in the entryway. You take a step toward the stairs.

An arm settles around your waist, pausing you in your tracks and pulling you back into his icy chest.

“Who are you calling for?” Hopper asks.

You shiver in his grasp, either from his cold or his proximity. You aren’t entirely sure.

“You,” you tell him, “and that little blonde girl.” You turn to face him but he’s not even visible. Just pressure on your side and whispers in your ear.

“That’s not our names.” The voice comes from farther away, but the hand still settles on your stomach.

“Well it’s not like I have anything else to go by.” You slip into the light jacket you’ve taken to wearing around the house. “You never gave me your names.”

Hopper is leaning against the counter when you enter the kitchen. Emma runs through you and out the door, presumably to haunt the front hall. Hopper points after her. “Elise.” He tilts his hand so his thumb points to himself. “Chuuya. Haven’t you done any research?”

Chuuya. You remember the name. Just not where it’s from.

“I have.” You start to put your groceries away around him. “But do you know how many have died on the property?”

Chuuya taps his fingers together as he thinks. “Six?”

“More like forty-six,” you correct, “and they didn’t show many pictures.” You shoo him out of the way to reach the cabinet below him. “Which one are you, again?”

“Guess,” he says, and his smile is obvious.

“Hmm…” You think as you push pasta onto the shelf. So many deaths, you have to narrow it down somehow. “Illness?”

“No.”

“Mysterious disappearance?”

“Nope. Keep guessing.”

“Can I get a hint?”

“Sure,” he says, and you can tell you won’t like his answer by the snark in his voice. “The hint is: I died.”

You tilt your head up to glare at him, but he’s completely unphased. It looks like he’s trying to stifle a laugh, actually. That cheeky little shit.

You have half a mind to tell him to keep his secrets. You have no obligation to play this little game of his.

But oh, that smug smile of his drives you up the wall.

So you cross your legs and lean back against the counter’s door to study him. His clothes are old-fashioned — gray slacks, pressed into perfect creases. A white button-up covered by a silky suit vest just a shade or two darker than the pants. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and black leather gloves on his hands. Shiny black loafers on his feet, and to top it all off, a fedora resting on his head. All expensive. All designer.

He could have been dressed up for a special occasion. Or, of course, he could simply be an eccentric man dressing in an out-of-date style.

You think you prefer the second option.

It’s still not a very good clue, though. “Murder?” you ask after a bit of self-deliberation.

He clicks his tongue. “Bingo.”

Okay, so. Murdered. How many people were murdered here? You suck on your teeth as you think. “In the house or out?”

“Outside.” His voice is sour. “Still on the property, though. Barely.”

“Does that matter? Whether it was here or not?”

“It does.” Chuuya walks around to lean on the island. “The last kid got lucky. He just missed the threshold.”

Got lucky. The kid still died, but he got lucky. Sure.

“What do you mean by threshold?” you ask after rolling your eyes.

“The house. Anyone who dies on the property is trapped here.”

“No way. That can’t be true.”

Chuuya shrugs. “It is. This land is a spiritual hotspot. The house is the strongest point. They can travel a few feet outside, but that’s all.”

You stare at him.

“It’s true,” is all he says.

“They’re trapped in the house?” Chuuya nods. “But you stole my mailbox. That’s outside the fence.”

He smirks. “Special privilege.” You raise a brow. “Granted by proximity to the border.”

“Okay, so,” you lean back against the cabinet door. “Why isn’t the house overrun with ghosts, then?”

His face doesn’t change much — it barely changes at all, except for a more dangerous tilt to his smile. But that alone is enough to send a sense of dread creeping up your spine.

“We eat them.”

Oh. They eat them.

Eat them.

Eat them?!

Your jaw drops. “‘Eat’ as in…?”

Chuuya’s tongue slides along his upper lip. You think you might throw up.

“What…” What happens to them after? you want to ask. Scared of the answer, you ask instead, “What do they taste like?” and immediately think you should’ve said anything else.

“It depends, really.” He takes no notice of your discomfort, or if he does, he ignores it. “Usually like mud. But there are some that taste immaculate. There’s a certain criteria that makes them beautiful.”

“And what might that be?”

“They’re brave.” He leans forward until he’s floating over the island and in your face. “They don’t seem to mind their undead roommates.” He smiles that shark’s smile and your stomach turns.

You’re listing off realtors in your head when he backs up with a more jovial smile. “Kidding.”

The air leaves your lungs in an audible whoosh and you slump back against the cabinet. You’re not sure what he’s kidding about, but you’re not sure you want to know, either. “I don’t think you count as ‘undead’. Zombies are undead.” You poke a finger through his cheek. "They come with corporeal bodies."

He tilts his head to you. "True. Dead but not gone.”

“Because of the house.”

“Yeah.” He looks away, through the window and into the back yard. He’s lost in something, some memory of his lost life or, perhaps, his new one. You give him the time he needs, studying his profile as he loses himself in his thoughts.

He’s a handsome man, you decide. Had you been born in the same time, there might have been something between you and him.

Could there be something between you now?

Ridiculous. You disregard the flutter in your stomach, choosing to believe it anxiety and not hope. It takes a lot of nerve to live with undead roommates, as Chuuya put it, and surely that nerve can falter every now and then.

He turns his gaze back to you and grins. The flutter kicks up a notch. “So you know I was murdered. What does that mean?”

You frown. “Jack shit. A murder doesn’t really narrow it down much.” The only murders you really remember are…

You eye Chuuya from your position on the floor. “You weren’t one of those guys that broke in to rape that girl, were you?”

“Hell no!” he growls, nose wrinkling with a scowl. Insult flickers across his gaze. “The fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Sorry!” You throw your hands up. “I just wanted to make sure.”

“Trust me, I would’ve done them in if I had the chance. But Akutagawa got to them first. Sometimes I swear he’s not even human.”

“He’s technically not anymore, is he?”

“Guess not.” Chuuya wrinkles a bag on the counter. “He didn’t hesitate to deal with them on this side, either.”

Deal with them?

You hesitate before asking, “You mean he… ate them?”

Chuuya shakes his head. “He ripped them to shreds. There was nothing left afterwards.”

So ghosts can die, or something similar. You stand and finish putting away your groceries. “So what’s the criteria?” Chuuya grunts and raises a brow. “What determines whether someone gets eaten or not?”

“How strong they are, usually. As long as we can fight the others off, we’re safe.”

So the stronger ghosts eat the weaker ghosts. That makes an unfortunate amount of sense. It’s just the same bs that goes one in the world of the living on a more metaphysical(and literal) level. You think of your mortgage and bills and how easy it would be for you to lose everything you’ve worked so hard for.

You start a bag of popcorn in the microwave.

“What about Elise?” you ask as the thought occurs. “She’s a child. Don’t tell me she was able to fight off the strongest person here.”

“She doesn’t have to.” Chuuya stands at the microwave, transfixed by the rotating plate. “Her dad’s the most powerful spirit. He protects her.”

“Her dad? The one that killed her?”

“Oh, so you know their story but not mine?” he jokes.

“Come on, Chuuya.” His smile grows at the use of his name. “It’s been a famous story ever since it happened. I bet even you knew it before you died.”

“Yeah, and?”

You give him the flattest look you can, and he busts out laughing. “Y’know, I think I like you. Don’t leave anytime soon.”

With company like him around? “I certainly don’t plan on it.”

You smile wide and ignore the butterflies swarming in your stomach.

Elise waits for you, every time you leave. She bounces around on your return, darts in and out of doors, appears and disappears randomly. She’s happy to play now that you know her name, and you’re happy to entertain her.

Chuuya, on the other hand, often waits for you to settle before he shows himself. He loves to drape himself across you, to make himself comfortable in your presence.

You ask him, one day, as you’re laying on the couch with his head on your chest, why he’s so touchy with you. He closes his eyes when you ask, humming in deep thought. 

“You’re warm,” he finally says, and you must have a look, because he cracks a face-splitting grin.

“What?” he asks, “Think I can’t feel it because I’m dead?”

“Kind of,” you say, “I didn’t think you felt things at all.”

He opens his eyes and squishes a finger to your cheek. "Feel me touching you?" You nod. “Well, I can feel you, too. Hard to touch something and not feel it.”

“That’s a fair point,” you admit, “but I do have one question.” He tilts his head, and you poke your fingers into his cheek. They sink through his face, his skin turning more translucent so you can see them beneath it.

He waits a full minute before saying, “That’s not a question.”

“I think it’s a valid argument.”

He considers for a moment. “You don’t feel anything? At all?”

You wiggle your fingers, then pull them out of his face. “Just a little chill.”

And oh, the smug look he gives you–

“Okay, smartass,” you huff, “you’re actually touching me, though. Your hand doesn’t just pass right through me.”

“Well yeah,” he says, and you get this vague feeling that he’s about to say something you won’t quite understand. “I use a lot of energy when I want to touch things.”

Aaaand you were correct. “When you say ‘energy’, what do you mean?”

Chuuya clicks his tongue. “Same way you use energy to walk or talk. Except I feel like I’m running the whole time just to touch you. It would be ten times worse if I made it where you could touch me, too.”

“I wish I could touch you,” you mumble. “Wait,” you sit up, and he slides to the floor, “you have to– like, activate your ability to touch me?”

He hoists himself back onto the couch and turns to face you. “Yeah. It’s not automatic.” He places a hand on your arm, but it travels right through, leaving goosebumps where it hit.

You have to shiver before he pulls away.

You lift one knee onto the couch as you turn to him. “So you expend a lot of energy to touch things. Where do you get it?”

Chuuya shrugs. “It just builds up over time.”

You rest your cheek against the back of the couch. “But it regenerates quickly?” He almost nods, but hesitates.

“For me, it does. I just need a few hours of rest.”

“And for the others?”

“It just depends. Not everyone has the same reserves as me. I saw someone sleep for almost a year after using too much once.”

“Is that how you gather energy again, by sleeping?”

“Sometimes. We can also pull it from things like wind or rain, or even people.”

You furrow your brow at that. “People?”

“I could even take energy from you. It’s kind of da–”

“Show me.”

“What?”

“You say it takes a lot of energy to touch me. Let me repay the favor by giving some to you.”

“You’re reckless.” He shakes his head, but smiles anyway. Then he raises one hand straight up, palm facing you, and nods to it.

You lift your head and stare before setting your palm against his. The leather is soft, but cold where you would expect warmth. You line your fingers up with his, only then realizing that you can feel them. Your eyes widen and you look from your hands to him and back.

“A gift. To thank you for trusting me.”

“Trusting–” you start. Then all the air is sucked from your body. You gasp, trying to breathe, but your lungs are frozen.

Your entire body is frozen.

Ice runs from his hand into yours. It spread through your arm and into your chest. Your breath clouds before you. You can’t–

Why can’t you breathe?!

Chuuya clicks his tongue as he pulls away, and you can finally catch your breath. “I tried to tell you it was dangerous, but I don’t think it would have mattered. You’re dangerous, too.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to hold back the shivers. Your teeth chatter when you speak. “Why didn’t y-you say it felt like that?”

“It was probably worse, since you were freely offering it to me.” He disappears from in front of you. Asshole. You wait before following him, eager to gather more heat first. A blanket drops over you, covering your head and shoulders. By the time you’ve wrapped it more properly around yourself, he’s sitting on the floor facing the couch. His arms rest on the cushion, creating the tiniest indent, and he casts a shadow you’ve never seen from him before.

He looks more alive than you’ve ever seen him.

“You alright?” he whispers. His fingers twitch like he wants to reach out to you, but you both know that will only worsen the chill.

“Yes,” you stammer out, voice as soft as his, “I’ll be alright.”

It takes him a minute to believe you, but he does, and he smiles. It’s a gentle smile, fun of warmth he can’t possess, and you feel your throat tighten again. There’s a glow to his cheeks, some sort of rosy color, and you’re not sure if that’s because of you or the energy you gave him.

“Hey…” you start once your heart slows, “were you the one in my room? Back when I first moved in?”

“I was the one that threw your mailbox from it.”

You shake your head, then pause at the bout of dizziness that causes. “No,” you say, “before that. Almost a week after I moved in. There was– I don’t know, a shadow man, or something.”

He lifts his head from the couch, smile fading. “‘Shadow man’?”

You describe to him the figure in your room. You hadn’t seen it since Chuuya revealed himself, so you thought it was him.

His souring face says otherwise.

“Let me know if it happens again,” he warns. “I don’t know who it was, but I doubt they had good intentions.”

Your face pales and he frowns. He reaches forward, offering his hand but not touching you. You reach forward, and he wraps his fingers around yours. “I won’t let them hurt you,” he promises, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

You’re sure he can feel your pulse race with the fluttering of your heart.

  Chuuya promised to keep the monsters at bay, and he has, for the most part.

Shadows disappear when you turn to look at them. Footsteps creak along the halls when you’re alone. Nightmares haunt your dreams every night. Emma clings to you more, trying to keep you close.

Your house has become more active, that much is obvious.

But whatever Chuuya is doing, it works. None of the other ghosts bother you.

You get comfy, as the days fade from summer into fall into winter. He limits his touches as the weather grows colder(your heating is busted), but still joins you in your bed. He waits until you’re snuggled under the covers to lay beside you, arm slung across your chest. You can tell — by the tone of his voice, the look in his eyes — that he wishes for more. He misses your warmth, but he’s not going to sacrifice your safety for it.

He’s halfway through a sentence, regaling you with tales of his living life, when he disappears mid-word.

“Chuuya?” You turn, but he’s not there. He’s not anywhere, you discover, as you sit up and study the room. You call out for him, increasingly frantic as he doesn’t answer.

The floor is cold on your feet. You ignore it to search for Chuuya.

And then you come to on the rooftop.

You teeter on the edge, a wisp away from falling, chilled completely to the bone. You gasp and fall back, scrambling away from the drop.

Ice wraps around your ankle and yanks you closer.

Your fingers scrape against rain-slick tile.

There is no stopping your fall.

You scream.

And then are pulled up.

Hands beneath your arms move you away from the edge. A leg kicks out against whatever’s holding you. A chill spreads across your back from where it presses into his chest.

“This one’s mine!” Chuuya growls.

It is utterly unhuman.

He pulls you into safety and steps between you and the edge. You can’t see anything there, except in the rapid flash of lightning. A boy, you think, based on the structure of their body. Whispers sound from all around you, and you can’t tell if they’re coming from the figure or from elsewhere.

Chuuya’s shoulders tighten. His snarl loosens into a scowl, and he glances back at you, searching your face.

“What are they saying?” you whisper to him, and his posture relaxes. He glances back and pushes you toward the open window you must have used to get on the roof.

“Tell ya later,” he answers. He helps you through the window. “Stay right here. I’ll come get you when it’s safe.”

“Safe?” you breathe, but he slams the window shut behind you. He’s not behind it when you look.

…safe? Is the house not–

Well, it’s haunted so–

Cursed? Is that what the ghost hunter called it? Is the house really curs–

Of course it’s fucking cursed. Chuuya told you as much. All the deaths should have told you. The house is fucking haunted.

The house is fucking cursed.

But what happened? The only ghosts to even touch you so far are Elise and Chuuya. Why did someone try to-to kill you? And who were they?

You slide down the wall beside the window. He said to stay here, right? In the attic? Or will the rest of the house be safe as well?

Are you really safe here?

Well. Obviously not.

You take a look around the cramped attic. You’ve hardly touched the place; the entrance is in the ceiling of a second floor closet and the ladder consists of half-rotted wood. All the boxes you saw on your first (and only) venture into it contain mysteries, still.

The trapdoor is open. Light leaks in from below.

You crawl closer to it, aware of every creak the floorboards make beneath your knees. Peeking into the opening reveals nothing, just the empty closet. The door to the hallway is open — it’s where the light is coming from — but you can’t see anything past it.

Until a woman pokes her head in. “I’m pretty sure he told you to stay up there, did he not?” she asks. She smiles, though, like she already knows the answer. “I won’t tell if you come down, though. I’d welcome it.”

Her hand lifts towards you with the grace of a ballerina. She stays in that position, an image of perfect beauty; golden hair framing her face, brown eyes wide and innocent. Not quite demure, but something like it.

“Um,” you squeak, “no thanks.” You back up and slam the door shut, plunging yourself into darkness.

Which isn’t any better than the woman, you think. You lift the door a crack and peek into the closet.

Nothing. The corridor is empty.

Who was she? What did she want? The way she looked… she had that same dangerous glint in her eye that Chuuya often wears when discussing the afterlife. What would have happened if you’d taken her hand? Nothing good, you imagine.

Something crashes inside the house.

A weapon. What you need is a weapon.

You search the boxes for something that could work as one. Not that any would, considering what you know of ghosts. But it’s to settle your mind more than anything.

In the third box, you find a pair of soft leather gloves. Petite, sized somewhere between adult and child. You place one in your palm, stretched out, matching your fingers to the ones of the glove, the same way you and Chuuya sometimes hold hands. They have to belong to him.

Where is he?

You hold the gloves to your chest, over your heart.

Is he hurt? Can he get hurt?

He could get eaten.

Oh, god, he could get eaten–

No. No, he has not been eaten yet. You’ve never discussed where he falls in terms of strength, but he’s survived fifty goddamn years in this house, he won’t be overcome so easily.

Another crash comes from below.

You have to get down there.

You cradle his gloves against your chest and make your way to the opening. The first step creaks under your weight, but it holds. It holds.

As does the next step, and the next. It’s the fourth one that cracks, sliding your foot past the fifth, sixth, seventh. You gasp as you slide, butt hitting each step until the bottom. You land face-first on the burgundy carpet. A quick body scan reveals a scraped nose, a sore rump, and — worst of all — a wounded pride. Surely you could have stopped yourself before you ate the rug? What the hell was that poor performance?

Never mind. It’s not important. Not as important as Chuuya, at least.

You peek through the closet door. Nothing. No shadow people, no strange women, no knight in designer armor.

Outside you venture, gloves pressed into your skin as though they were a worthy wooden shield and not soft leather smaller than your own hands.

The entire second floor is empty. You poke your head into each room several times to check, then head toward the staircase. You remember (now, after your fall) that stairs are stronger at the ends, away from the middle, so you walk with one foot pressed against the bannister. It is, perhaps, the quietest you’ve ever been inside the house.

There’s no one on the first floor, either, and you haven’t been able to find a basement. So where the hell–

Voices.

Voices coming through the floorboards.

You kneel down and press your ear against the ground.

The voices are muffled, but you can almost make them out. You hold your breath to hear more clearly.

The only thing you hear is your name, tossed about by several of the voices.

Chuuya’s isn’t one of them.

Someone shouts, crying out for blood. Their single cry turns into a chant, broken occasionally by a chilling shriek of your name.

They’re mine, you make out among chanting. After all…

“I found them first.”

You gasp and jump forward, twisting your body to see the man behind you. He towers above your crouched form, glaring down at you with something like malice. His shadow twists into yours, ignoring the light coming from the front hall. Pure hatred crawls up your spine, chilling to your bones.

There’s something deeply wrong with this man.

His fingers twitch.

Your hand erupts in pain.

You scream and hold it up. An inky black spike runs clean through the middle of your palm. You brace yourself for blood as it dissipates.

There is none, though. Just a cold white circle on your skin.

You look up at the man. More spikes rise around him.

You turn and pull yourself into a run.

They feel like bullets that pierce your legs.

You grunt as you hit the ground. The pain grows the longer the spikes are stuck in you. You don’t know how to pull them out.

Your hair rustles as he kneels and places a hand on your head. “It hurts, doesn’t it? It’s the same thing I felt when I died.” Your body goes numb. “It will be much worse for you.”

You swing backwards, fist making contact with his chest. He’s knocked off balance, and you spare a tiny moment for thoughts as to why.

And then you’re racing for the door again. The man shouts behind you, but you’re through the front door when his shadow spears your stomach.

The pain is intense, more so than before. A raging hellfire burning inside your abdomen, scraping itself into your chest and lungs. You heave into the grass; bile runs into the pathway.

You cough and look behind you, but the man stopped on the bottom step. There’s barely a foot between you and him, but all he does is glare down at you, teeth bared in a snarl.

He can’t go any farther. He’s at the boundary of the house.

Your trembling arms threaten to drop you face-first into your own vomit, but you manage to scoot away first. Then you’re laying on your back, and your heart pounds a mile a minute, and the rain is cold, and your blood rushes to your head because it’s on the downward slope of the hill, and you can breathe. You can breathe.

And laugh, apparently. Frantic, half-conscious giggles escape your mouth and are carried away on the wind. And then you groan as you sit up — the pain is not nearly as bad as it was a second ago, but still persists as a dull throb.

You shiver in the cold. You don’t have any shoes, or even any socks. You wrap your arms around yourself and feel something pressed into your shoulder.

Chuuya’s gloves. Wrinkled by your fist and dampened by the rain, they glow with a dark red light. You’re not sure what it means, but it scares you.

Where is he?

You make your way down the gravel path and to your car, sitting just inside the gates. Chuuya makes you keep it here so it wouldn’t be too close to the house. You never really understood why until tonight.

The dashboard lights up when you insert the spare key(kept taped to the underside of your seat), and the heat flares to life soon after. You wave your fingers in front of the vent until some feeling returns to them. The air does little to dry you out, but the gloves are dry before you know it. They still glow, faintly, fading, sputtering in and out.

You have to find him.

You’ll drive the car up to the porch, you decide. And you’ll stand just inside the spiritual boundary to lure out a ghost, and then you’ll step back and question them. It’s a sound plan. Probably.

You’re just swinging the car around when the headlights catch on a dark shadow above the brick fence. Your heartbeat kicks up a notch.

Then falls silent in your chest.

“Chuuya!” you scream as you exit the vehicle.

He doesn’t move. You can barely reach his hand to shake him. You pull the car closer, as close as you dare, close enough to fold the passenger side mirror against the side of the car. You hop out and up onto the hood, then the roof, and you’re finally able to reach him.

He’s not breathing–

Which is normal, you remind yourself. He’s dead. Of course he’s not breathing.

“Chuuya,” you whisper, again and again, repeating his name like a prayer. He’s laying on his back on top of the fence. Four iron spikes pierce his chest, stomach, and leg. He looks solid, there, more solid in pain than he ever has before. You have to get him down.

Your hands pass right through him. You can’t touch him.

Tears well up that you refuse to let fall.

Why can’t you touch him? Sure, it takes energy, energy he obviously doesn’t have right now, but you managed to push the other ghost! What was different now? What was–

The gloves. You were holding his gloves when you shoved the other guy.

They creak when you put them on, but do not tear.

And, miraculously, amazingly, gratefully, you grab his shoulder.

You brace your knee on the concrete and pull. His fingers twitch, and his face contorts. You whisper apology after apology as you lift him off the spikes. He grunts as you pull him forward, resting his chest against your shoulder. You’re halfway through freeing his leg when his arms wrap around you and his fists close in the fabric of your nightshirt.

“Told ya to stay… in the attic…” he rasps in your ear.

If a voice could make people drunk, you’re pretty sure that’s what this feels like.

You sob into the air, hugging Chuuya with all your might. He gasps and pushes you away. He cradles your face, studying it.

“You… You’re still alive…” he breathes. “But you…” his hand squeezes yours. “How?”

You squeeze his hand in return, then release it. You hold it in front of his face. “This is yours, right?” The glow is stronger now, emitting a dark red light.

He slides his palm up and laces his fingers between yours.

It’s the first time you’ve properly held hands with him.

He moves his face forward, pressing your foreheads together. “I thought you were dead,” he whispers. “Thought I was never going to see ya again.”

“I’m here,” you whisper back. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

“You can’t stay. They’ll kill you.”

You know that. You are highly aware of that. Your bones still tremble in the cold from the rooftop, your back still aches where it was stabbed. But you don’t want to leave him. “What about you?” You pull back to look at his face. “What’s going to happen to you if I leave?”

He sucks in a breath through his teeth. “I’ll be fine. I can fight back.”

“What about this?” You grab his thigh where the tip of the spike pokes through. He flinches. “How did this happen?” you whisper.

He looks around before he answers, keeping one hand on your back and the other in yours. You shiver, despite the fact that his touch is no longer cold to you. “You need help, first,” he says, and lowers you to your car.

“What about you?” You grab the spokes to brace yourself against the wind. “You’re still stuck.”

“I’ll be down in a minute,” he tells you, “so just get in the car.” He holds your hand for as long as he can while you slide onto the hood and then the ground. You glance up at him as you open the door, but he waves at you to hurry.

Blessed warmth. You hadn’t realized how cold you were, but now your body aches in the heat blowing from the vents. Your fingers crack when they bend and your cheeks begin to thaw. You’re still shaking, though, despite holding your hands to the vents and rubbing them across your frozen skin.

Thud!

You scream when the car rocks.

“Just me,” Chuuya says, head sticking upside down through the windshield. He crawls onto the ceiling of the car, then plops into the passenger seat. He leans the seat back and places a hand over the wounds on his chest.

It’s not blood that oozes from it, but something darker, something almost black that spreads into the air like smoke. You hover your own hand over his, and he takes it with his free hand. “I’m okay,” he whispers into your palm before kissing it. “I’ll be okay.”

“What can I do?” you ask, but he shakes his head.

“You’re here. That’s enough. I just need sleep.”

You nod, and he drops his hand to the glovebox between you, still wrapped around yours. His head lolls to the side. In the reflection in the mirror, his eyes are slightly closed, his mouth is slightly open.

His body starts to fade. So does the glow from the gloves.

And that is very, very bad, you think.

“Chuuya?” You shake his shoulder. He doesn’t respond. “Chuuya!”

Your hand begins to sink through him, despite the glove.

He’s going to disappear.

You won’t let that happen.

You lean over him, hands pressed into his heart. You don’t know how he took energy from you before, but he did say it felt so bad because you gave it to him. You try to dredge up that feeling again.

It comes to you slowly, or maybe it only feels slow because of how cold you already are. All the warmth you’ve gathered since entering the car leaves you, flowing into Chuuya. His wounds close, and the fabric over them repairs itself. He grows more solid under your touch. His eyes begin to flutter as the ice spreads through your veins.

He shouts your name.

Your vision goes dark.

And then gray.

And then blinding white.

You blink against the light, squinting to see through it. Sitting up takes more effort than it should; your limbs are heavy and your head swims in circles. You raise a hand to massage away the headache that threatens to knock you out again.

“Oh, you’re awake!” A man saunters in, hands in the pockets of his tan overcoat. He calls out the door, “They’re awake! Told you, Kunikida!” He sits down in the chair beside your bed(your hospital bed; you find that appropriate, somehow) and says, as if he’s known you your whole life, “We were so worried about you! How’re you feeling? Hypothermia is nothing to take lightly, you know.”

……..You have no idea who this man is.

Kunikida, on the other hand, sparks a distant memory from almost a year ago. “You’re the ghost hunter!” you say, pointing to him. He grimaces, as does his partner.

“We are paranormal investigators,” he tells you at the same time his partner huffs, “Don’t ignore me like that!”

“What are you doing here?”

Kunikida unfolds a newspaper and offers it to you. You frown as you read over it. The article doesn’t bother you at all; it’s just a short rundown of your house’s morbid history, followed by a few sentences about the mysterious call that led paramedics to you, half frozen in your car. No, what bothers you most are the notes, written in scribbly red ink across the paper.

Your address, the nearest hospital locations, even your own name, which isn’t in the article in the first place.

You eye the two men, holding the paper like a shield between you. “Have you been stalking me?”

“Yep!” says the first man.

“No!” says the other. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses. “We like to keep tabs on the house at this address. But beyond an occasional drive-by, we don’t investigate further.”

Drive-by. Investigate. What.

“I… do not like that.”

“We’re sorry,” Kunikida says, “but it’s a necessary part of our job.”

“It’s a dangerous house, you understand,” the first man says. “I would gladly take your place, but my partner here won’t let me.” H takes your hand and holds it between his. “Unless you want to join me? It would be a beautiful double–”

“Yes, yes, you freak.” Kunikida interrupts, taking one of the man’s hands and holding it. “No one is going to commit suicide wtih you.”

You pull your hand away from his and into your lap. “I still don’t understand why you’re here.”

“We just want to check in with you,” Kunikida says. He sinks into the chair beside the first man(you should really ask his name) and, while still holding his hand, pulls a notebook from his vest pocket. “We also wanted to ask about what happened two nights ago that led to you nearly freezing in your car.”

You…. don’t trust these men. “Why do you want to know?”

“I told you, we like to keep a record of all the incidents that happen there.”

“And why is that?”

“So we know what to expect when we investigate. Ranpo and Dazai have a pretty good idea, but I like to be thorough.”

“Investigate?”

“With your permission, of course.”

Oh. They want to investigate your house.

Wh-

Why?

You narrow your eyes. “What do you expect to find?”

“Ghosts, ghouls, and demons!” the first man exclaims. He swings his and Kunikida’s hands back and forth between the chairs.

“Don’t scare them, Dazai.” Kunikida admonishes. To you, he says, “You won’t have to worry about anything. We’ll do a thorough investigation and clean up all the spirits we find.”

Well. That’s not going to work, is it? Chuuya’s gloves are right there on the bedside table. If all spirits include him and Elise, then….

“We haven’t had a chance to explore it yet. All the owners sold it when the hauntings became too much for them. They didn’t even think to look deeper into it. But we have a whole team of psychics, all of whom have their own method of exorcism. There won’t be a thing to worry about once we’re done.”

Your frown deepens with every word. Dazai has to nudge Kunikida to quiet him. In the following silence, you ask, “Why are you so interested in my house?”

 “It is dangerous,” Dazai tells you again, “and it’s host to the most activity in town. It would be an interesting experience, if nothing else.”

“Is that it?” You shake your head. “I don’t feel comfortable letting complete strangers into my house for such a silly reason.”

“I assure you, it’s not silly.” Kunikida opens the notebook and starts reading off the stories he’s collected — stories you are well aware of, after all your research and everything Chuuya’s told you. It’s when he reaches the decade-old murder of a young woman that you interrupt him.

“I know the history of the house, thank you.” Did that sound sarcastic? That totally sounded sarcastic. It just wasn’t sarcastic enough. “I’m still not interested.”

“But this incident was only the first,” Kunkida says. “If you stay, you’re going to have another. And no one will be there to save you next time.”

You’re not so sure about that.

You return home the next day. You stand just outside the gate, staring up the hill to your house. You shiver in the wind that blows fallen leaves into your yard. The gate squeaks as you open it. Your car is still parked against the inner wall. You don’t know what awaits you inside the house, or even just inside the gate, but everything looks fine from the outside.

Except for your missing mailbox.

Your heart pounds as you make your way up the path and to your porch. The doorknob twists under your hand. You peek around the door, but there’s nothing behind it. It’s not even all that dark; sunlight streams through the windows in other rooms and leaks into the front hallway.

You step inside and close the door behind you.

And then are thrown back into it.

You gasp as arms wrap around you.

A face presses into your stomach.

And–

And–

And someone giggles.

You blink down at the head of blonde hair, tied back with a maroon bow. She raises her head to meet your gaze with bright blue eyes.

“Elise,” you breathe, patting her head with a gloved hand.

“You’re back!” she exclaims, and you blink — you’ve never heard her speak before.

“Well, look at that. She likes you.”

You jolt at the new voice. You have no idea who said that, but you do know it doesn’t belong to either of the two ghosts you trust.

Elise turns and huffs. “You promised!” she calls into the hall.

“Yes, yes, of course. I won’t touch them.” You blink, and a man appears at the base of the stairs. He’s tall and lanky, with slicked back hair and a piercing gaze. “I was just making an observation. You don’t usually let people hear you.”

“Well I like this one.”

“Right, right. I won’t take your toy away. Not yet.” He turns his attention to you. Your blood runs cold.

“Um,” you stammer, “you must be the doctor.” Elise’s father and murderer. “I-it’s nice to me-meet you.” You’re not sure if you should offer a handshake or not.

“I am,” he nods, “my name is Ougai Mori. I hope we can get along in the future.”

And just like that, he disappears.

You flinch. Elise huffs. “He won’t bother you,” she says, waving a hand. “He doesn't want to upset me, and he’s always trying to make up for killing me. Besides, I’m not the only one who will be angry if anything happens to you.”

Your eyes widen. “You mean–” you breathe. “How-how is…”

Something crashes upstairs.

Elise hops in place and points, setting a hand on your back.

You race up the stairs and to your bedroom. The door to it is wide open. On the floor across from it is your mailbox.

“You should really lock your door, you know?”

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #bsd x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya nakahara #bsd fanfic

[hee0soo]

Kingdom Ep.7

Summary: The groups have to prepare for their collab stages and Jisoo´s feeling a bit off.

You voted for Kingdom, you are getting Kingdom. Episode 7 everyone

“Ah I.N-ah you´re standing on my foot!” the female complained and pushed the boys shoulder lightly.

May 2021

[Three mysterious men and a beautiful woman appear]

“Sorry Noona. Let´s go!”

[Stray Kids´Lee Know, Felix, Jisoo and I.N arrive]

“It´s my first time at another agency.” The youngest stated excitedly.

“KQ Entertainment.” Felix read the logo and opened the door.

The four members entered the lobby and were immediately greeted by five anxious looking ATEEZ members.

[WELCOME]

Seonghwa, Yeosang, Yunho, San and Wooyoung were already waiting for them to appear, bowing in front of their sunbaenims.

Jisoo felt weird, since San and Wooyoung were good friends of hers. Them bowing formally felt wrong on so many levels.

After they finished exchanging greetings, Felix took over for them.

“5 Members of ATEEZ?”

The 5 agreed quickly.

“And the 4 of you right?” Yunho asked quickly.

[ATEEZ 5 + Stray Kids 4= 9 people]

“Yes it´s the 4 of us.” The girl said and linked her arm with Lee Know´s, making him look at her worriedly.

She hadn´t felt well since the evening before.  The tiredness showed itself on her face and her happy vitamin was not allowed to be by her side.

To say that she felt awful would be an understatement.

“Peniel-sunbaenim isn´t here yet.” Wooyoung told them but one second later the door opened again and revealed the eldest member of the MayFly Dance Unit.

----------

“Welcome to our Practice Room!” Yunho called out as they entered the practice room where the ATEEZ members usually trained and practiced.

The visitors clapped enthusiastically.

[Excitement is in the air]

“We´ll need a leader who´ll lead the 10 of us.” Peniel stated once they had settled down and sat in a half circle.

Jisoo still hadn´t let go of her member as she could feel a headache incoming.

Without Peniel noticing, the younger members signaled towards him to get the position. Everyone agreed when the leader suggested talking casual.

I.N who sat next to his Noona almost had a crisis when he heard that.

Not wanting her younger member to feel stressed, Jisoo grabbed his hand and squeezed gently.

Peniel was by far not a strict guy and he tried to get the youngest in the room to loosen up a bit. It worked great and the female could see the tension leave her maknaes shoulders.

“It´s good to have so many dancers on the team! 5 members are present and all of us are dancers. What about you? How did you come here?” Wooyoung questioned the Stray Kids members curiously.

“For us, Yong Bok, Jisoo and I are in charge of the dance so that´s why we came here today!” Lee Know explained.

[Felix, Jisoo and Lee Know are core dance members of DanceRacha]

 “And we needed a dependable support so we brought I.N with us!”

[VocalRacha I.N, an All-rounded member who is good with dances]

[MayFly dance unit has plenty of support]

After the younger members had talked Peniel into showing the Krumping style he was famous for, they decided to make a slogan.

They gathered in a small circle around Felix and started yelling.

“WHO CAN FLY?”

“WE CAN FLY!”

“WHO CAN FLY?”

“WE CAN FLY!”

“R-R-R-R-ROLL!”

-----------

When filming ended that day, Jisoo let a big sigh of relief. Her head felt like it was going to explode and the pain reliever hadn´t helped as much as the girl would have liked.

She hoped that it wasn’t too obvious in front of the camera but seeing as even Yunho and Yeosang had asked her if she was feeling alright, she didn´t do a very good job at it.

Jisoo could already hear Minho tattling on her to Chan over the phone when they were back in the van that brought them to KQ. The older dancer kept eying her slumped back figure while talking to the leader, wanting nothing more than to get her into her bed. He already knew that it wasn´t going to happen though.

Jisoo had taken to Chan way more than usual in the last few weeks and he knew that she would go to the company in hopes for some cuddles from the leader.

“You´re still filming right Hyung?”

“Yeah we are. Stated a bit later because of some technical issues but were still on camera. Why are you asking?”

“Soo-ah hasn´t been feeling well today so I think she´ll be at the studio in about 30 minutes.”

Minho could hear the older sigh in resignation.

“Alright thanks for the heads up. I´ll tell the camera crew and the others here to expect her. See you later Min-ah!”

They hung up and Minho looked back at the female member. Her eyes were closed but the way her face was scrunched up told him that she was still very much awake.

Next to her Felix put his hand on hers to give it a reassuring squeeze.

“Chan is expecting you at the company in a bit. But first I want you to go home with us and change into comfier clothes! Understood?”

Jisoo gave him an understanding thumbs up.

-----------

3Racha, Minhyuk and Hongjoong were busy arranging the track for the rap performance when the door got opened slowly.

[A soft Jisoo appears! What is she doing here?]

Chan looked at her and raised an eyebrow at seing her Hoodie.

"Is that HIS hoodie?"

Jisoo entered without replying.

Closing the door softly behind her, she sat down on the only free spot of the couch next to Hongjoong. A slight frown displayed on her face when she realized it was occupied.

“Aww is your couch occupied Bambi?” Changbin teased when he saw her face.

Jisung gave her one of the water bottles Chan had stashed away and turned back to the track they were working on.

Minhyuk couldn´t help but coo over the tired looking female.

[Someone seems a bit tired]

The Rap Team continued working and Jisoo sat with them in silence. After about half an hour Chan turned around to see how she´s doing. What he saw almost made his heart stop from cuteness.

Jisoo had fallen asleep with her head on Hongjoong´s shoulder, knees pulled to her chest and snoring softly. The ATEEZ leader sat there as still as a statue to not disturb her, looking positively enamored with red ears.

Chan could already see the Dating scandal rising and it surprised him a lot when all that happened was Stay´s and ATINY`s going on and on over how sweet the moment was.

----------

Practice the next day went smoothly. Jisoo felt so much better and the 3 groups worked seamlessly together.

The dance came together piece by piece, taking on form the longer they practiced.

San had detached himself from Wooyoung and went to Jisoo´s side. The two watched as Felix and Wooyoung started practicing their jump with the dancers.

Jisoo winced when she saw how Felix had to land on the others thighs.

“Are you okay? You weren´t acting like yourself yesterday and I got worried. Youngie told me to wait for today to ask or I would have messaged you yesterday already!”  He asked carefully, making her smile.

It was one of the things she loved about her friend. How he was always worried for his friends and wanted to care for them.

“I´m fine, just feeling a bit under the weather! It´s fine now!” Jisoo answered.

San nodded in understanding.

The two went over the part they shared in the performance multiple times to work out the last few kinks of it when the choreographer clapped and ordered them into position to go over what they had so far.

“Let´s start this from the top and then I want Peniel-ssi working on his Krumping!”

Peniel pulled a face. He hadn´t done it in a while and knew it would take a moment to get back into it.

“You can do it Peniel-ah!!!!” Jisoo cheered for him and gave a finger heart.

[A cute cheerleader for the leader]

And when the day of the performance came the tore the stage apart!

#stray kids #stray kids 9th member #9th member of stray kids #kpop added member #kpop addition #kpop au #kpop extra member #stray kids addition #stray kids female member #stray kids female addition

[skteezcursed]

general masterlist ♡

hihi, you can call me yaya, this is the general masterlist (under the cut, the ones on top are the newest ones), for the specifics open the file

➔ FILE .1: ateez masterlist.

➔ FILE .2: stray kids masterlist.

➔ FILE .3: multi members masterlist.

|| ✰ - public's favorites || ♡ - personal favorites ||

➔ 0025 | j.wy

↪ wc: 3,3k | smut. friends to lovers.

➔ manwich | k.ys & c.jh

↪ wc: 7,7k | smut. threesome. part of a collab.

➔ use me | h.js

↪ wc: 3,7k | smut. friends with benefits.

➔ my everything | c.jh ♡

↪ wc: 12k | smut. best friends to lovers.

➔ hello, darling | h.hj | ✰

↪ wc: 3,4k | smut. established relationship.

➔ 0200 | s.mg ✰

↪ wc: 1,7k | smut. established relationship.

➔ devil looking angel | p.sh & l.mh | ♡

↪ wc: 9k | smut. friends to fwb.

#yaya.masterlist #ateez smut #stray kids smut

[heeliopheelia]

GIRL WAIT ARE YOU ENTERING INTO YOUR STAY ERA??? Cause I saw the Hyunjin gifs and YES HE IS THE STAY MAGNET like no matter what fandom you are he WILL PULL YOU INTO THIS CHAOTIC PARTY WE CALL THE STRAY KIDS FANDOM.

And oh my god I just re-listened to Sweet Venom and like.... Yeah no it ain't growing on me like most Enha songs usually do. Blessed cursed was honestly my favourite era like all the songs were such bangers. Im telling you Hey Tayo is better than whatever this is. B-sides are kinda good too. Still Monster and Orange Flower are growing on me. And istg if I even talk about the Collab I will cry right here ITS JUST UGH. I still the love the Bois tho I just think someone needs to give them some better songwriters and SOMEONE WHO GIVES THEM LONGER SONGS I NEED A BRIDGE LIKE IN CRIMINAL LOVE.

How you doing babygirl 😚? How's that cute brain of yours 💙?

I used to love skz waaay before enha but yk how it it 👀 Then came ateez and then came ENHA so i slowly begun to drop skz 🥹 I mean I still listened to their music bcs I do love their songs, I just didn't watch much of their content anymore... Hyunjin was my ult bias for so long too and YES he's the one who's gotten me into skz in the first place (I'm a basic hoe, I saw a pretty face on tumblr and I immediately decided to stan 🫡)

I do miss skz tho that's why I'm thinking of going back to them 👀 I mean I used to watch Chan's lives RELIGIOUSLY every week and I miss it so much!! AGNSNSN HELP

Btw I still haven't listened to the bsides 👀 I promise I will today tho!! AND CRIMINAL LOVE WAS A FUCKING MASTERPIECE, I WISH THE WOULD'VE MADE IT A COMEBACK 😭😭

I'm doing well actually!! Brain's frying but it's Saturday so maybe I'll finally write something 🙏 Also I'm going to a club with my bf and some of my friends tonight so I'm so exciteeeeed ✨

And how are you bby girl??

#– mona ♡. #carly's gossip center (✿˵╹∀╹˵)(╹∀╹˵❁)