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digital-domain · 5 months

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Curiosity, the Killer

Mahito x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Synopsis: You went out tonight hoping to connect with a stranger. And technically, you did… after you got home. After he broke into your apartment and cornered you in the bathroom. Good luck getting rid of him - he’s not one to control his impulses. Especially when he’s feeling curious.

Tags: dark content, noncon, death threats, talk of murder, extreme possessiveness, general rough handling, biting, hair pulling, painful sex, creampie, mahito being a pervy lil pantie sniffer

Note: Might do a part two…my brain is rotting.

You slip through the front door of your apartment, kicking off your shoes the moment it shuts behind you. Tonight did not go as you’d hoped - although to be fair, you had an active imagination, and tended to set your hopes too high. In your mind, each time you went out was a potential first chapter to one of the guilty-pleasure novels you read (and sometimes, even attempted to write) in your spare time. A beautiful stranger would compliment your dress, offer to buy you a drink, dance with you where everyone could see, kiss you on the floor, take you home…

None of that had happened tonight. The closest you’d gotten was when a ridiculously drunk college student had thrust a shot of vodka in your face. You’d dodged, but you can still smell the splash of liquor that had landed on your dress.

You’d been with a crowd of friends - maybe that was the problem. None of them had been approached either, although a couple had left with guys they’d met on dating apps earlier this weekend. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe the idea of meeting someone in the real world had become a fantasy long ago. Maybe you were stupid to still believe in it.

In any case…the night is over. And with nothing to excite you, nothing to capture your imagination, sleep is beginning to take hold. You don’t let it catch you just yet - you make your way to the bathroom, and scrub at the makeup on your face until you’re back in your bare skin. The bathroom light flickers, and you make a mental note to change the bulb tomorrow. Not tonight - you’re too tired, and with your luck, it would probably end up shattered on the floor.

For a moment, you stare at yourself in the mirror. The simple, form-fitting black dress you wore tonight is one of your favorites. It makes you feel confident - beautiful, even. You let yourself appreciate it for a while before you finally reach for the zipper, contorting your arm to pull it down your back. A second later, the fabric hits the floor with finality, and you turn on the shower.

While you wait for the water to warm up, your eyes briefly flutter shut. Before you open them, before you take off your bra and underwear and step into your warm shower, you allow yourself just a moment to imagine what might have been. You sigh with longing, and wrap your arms tightly around your waist.

Then, at your weakest moment - a second pair of arms envelops your own.

You try to whip around, but they hold you fast, allowing you to turn just enough to get a glimpse of the intruder in the mirror, and to see a third hand clamp down over your mouth, dampening your scream before it makes it out of your throat. It’s a man, you think, but nothing about his appearance makes sense. The face you saw in the mirror isn’t right. It’s human, but covered in very un-human stitches, a patchwork that doesn’t quite add up when it’s all put together. When you look down, you see that his hand and arms are covered in them, too. And the hands…you saw three. You feel three digging into your skin. That doesn’t make sense. It’s not right. Again, you try to cry out, thrashing wildly in his arms as he presses into you.

He leans down, and flicks his tongue over your ear. “Hi. You just let me know when you’re done, okay?”

A fresh ripple of terror runs through you, because he sounds nothing like you expected. His voice is high-pitched and gleeful, far too casual for such a terrifying situation. You squirm against his grip, but it holds fast. You try to scream, again and again, until you finally accept that the seal on your mouth isn’t going to break, that the shower will obscure any sound that you do manage to make. You breathe shallowly, a black haze begins to obscure your vision. His palm is warm, damp, and smells worse than the stain on your dress.

“Are you done?” He laughs - actually giggles, like what he’s doing is nothing more than harmless fun. “Well, I guess you can’t really tell me. But you can nod your head if you are.”

You shake your head vigorously, trying desperately to tear your face from his grasp.

He sighs, exasperated. “If you don’t cut it out soon, I’m gonna have to kill you.”

At this, you freeze, too petrified to move an inch more.

“I don’t want you to die,” he continues, a petulant tone slipping into his voice. “I’ve got other plans. But I can’t just stand here covering your mouth all night.” He presses his face into the crook of your neck, lips scraping against your exposed skin. “I know you don’t really know what you’re dealing with,” he mutters. “But trust me… you would be really easy to kill. I just have to do this.” A fourth unseen hand juts out from behind you and wraps around your neck. The fingernails on this hand are long, and unnaturally sharp. Sharp enough to break your skin with ease. “It’s easy from here. All I have to do is squeeze, or slice…either way, you’ll die!”

What is this thing? You’d like to believe that you’re hallucinating, but the nails tapping against your skin feel far too real.

“If I let go of you,” he explains, “I need to know that you’re not gonna scream or try to run away. I want this to be a nice night for us. It’s not gonna be nice if I have to spend it killing the people that come running to save you. I don’t wanna be distracted.” He kisses you gently on the neck, and a chill runs down your spine.

The way he’s talking…it sounds like he actually thinks he’s being sweet. You’d be less terrified if he was self-aware. If he knew what a terrible thing he was doing.

He nuzzles his face against your hair, inhaling deeply as he raises a sharp nailed finger to caress the line of your jaw. “You looked so lonely tonight,” he sighs. “I noticed it right away.”

You stiffen. He’s so deep in his delusion that he seems to have lost all grasp on reality - but he’s right about the loneliness. What, and how, does he know?

“Even with all your friends around you,” he sighs. “So miserable. Like you were waiting for someone special, and they never came.”

Everything. He knows everything. He’s had his eye on you for hours…if not longer.

“You won’t be lonely anymore if you’re good for me,” he murmurs. “And you’ll be alive.” His teeth grind into your neck, gnawing away like a dog on a bone, and your body tenses at the sudden pain. “Come on,” he whines, his voice muffled by the pinch of skin still locked between his jaws. “Just promise to be good - just nod your head…”

What choice do you have? Even if there is some other choice, your mind is too scrambled to think of it. Too confused by all the impossibilities you’ve just witnessed, still reeling from the revelation that he’s been watching you all night. Later, you’ll try to work out how he managed to enter your home, but that’s not on your mind right now - not when your life depends on a single quick decision. You nod, and when his hands slip from your face and neck a moment later, you don’t make a sound.

“Good job!” The arms around your waist squeeze you tighter, and you hear the other pair clapping in celebration behind you. “I was worried you were gonna do something stupid. I’m glad you didn’t…I’ve got such exciting plans for you. I’d be so sad if I didn’t get to use them.” He drops his arms from your waist. “Turn around. I wanna see you.”

Slowly, stiffly, you turn to face him. The third and fourth arm have somehow disappeared - he looks human now, save for the stitches running across his skin. He’s got long hair, colored a light blue. For some reason, you don’t think it’s dyed. With everything you’ve just seen, unnatural hair doesn’t seem out of the question. His eyes are mismatched - one is blue, the other grey. They’re striking, shining with a bright intensity that almost makes you want to look away.

His left hand latches onto your waist, and the right twists through your hair. “You’re pretty on the outside,” he whispers, bringing his face so close to yours that you go cross-eyed. “On the inside…you’re the same as the rest. But I don’t care about that right now.” He pulls on your hair, practically humming in excitement as you cry out. “Or maybe I do. All your silly, stupid little human desires…they’re the reason you looked so miserable tonight, aren’t they? You wanted something - or someone.” He yanks your head up and down, forcing you to nod in agreement. “I know I’m right. You were looking for another human to…how do you phrase it? To sleep with?” He smiles, his eyes stretched grotesquely wide. “So many of you have that same desire…I’ve been trying to understand it. It’s been killing me, all the wanting, the not knowing. But then I realized - if I want to understand, all I have to do is try it out!”

He pulls you into a rough, sloppy kiss, and your eyelids shut, squeezing out the tears that have gathered beneath them. You don’t want to do this. The way he’s been talking makes you feel like a specimen under a microscope - or a lab rat in a cage. When it ends…will he let me go? For a split second, you see an image of your body lying cold and lifeless beneath your bedsheets. Your eyes snap open, and you see that his already are.

“Mmm.” His eyes are narrowed, his lips pulled into a grin just a bit too wide for his face. “I made a good choice…I like you. You get even prettier when you’re scared.” Without warning, bends down, grabs both of your ankles, and yanks you off your feet. Your ears ring painfully as he drags you out of the bathroom, across the hall, shouldering open the door that leads to your bedroom. He kicks it shut behind him. Then, he pulls you into the air, dangling your body carelessly in front of him. You squirm and thrash, caught like a fish on a line.

Carefully, he makes his way across the room, and deposits you on your bed, laying you down on your back. Before you can sit up, he’s kneeling on top of you, one leg on either side of your stomach, his body pinning you to your mattress. He pulls off his shirt, drops it to the floor, and tumbles forward, his stitch-covered chest slapping against yours as his tongue darts into your mouth, exploring every inch of the space inside. When he pulls back, he’s panting like a predator at the end of a chase, eyes lidded, tongue lolling from his mouth and coated in drool. “I like this. I can’t believe I waited so long to try it.”

A whimper escapes from your lips as he slides his hands across your chest and rips your bra down the middle. He gropes you freely, squeezing and pinching until you’re crying out in pain.

“You make such cute sounds,” he whispers, taking a break from his assault to brush your hair back from your face. He squeezes your cheeks between his hands, forcing your lips to pucker, paying no mind to the glare in your eyes. “Adorable.” He grabs your wrists, pinning them to your side, and slithers down the length of your body, settling between your legs. You feel an unwelcome rush of heat to your core as he buries his nose and lips in your panties, his grip on your wrists tightening painfully as he inhales. “You even smell good,” he sighs, his muffled voice vibrating up your spine. “Do you smell like this all the time? Or is it a special scent? Does it mean you want me inside you?”

“I don’t want you.” The words spill out before you can reel them in.

“Sure you do.” His tongue darts from his mouth, and slides greedily over your cunt, the thin fabric stretched over it doing nothing to dull the sensation. “I know how your body works. I know what it means when you get all warm and wet…” He raises his face, and grins up at you. “You’re ready for me. And I’ve been ready for you for a very long time.” He grasps your panties in his teeth, and jerks his head, tearing a massive hole that leaves your cunt completely exposed. “I’ve been so curious. So desperate to know what it feels like. Why you all want it so badly…”

His body slides up over yours; he gathers your wrists in one hand and pins them over your head. The other hand yanks at the waist of his pants, pulling them down just enough for his cock to spring free. “Keep your eyes open,” he hisses, the tip of his cock already pressed to your entrance. “You’re mine. My favorite little experiment. I wanna know how I makes you feel.”

Your mouth falls open as he thrusts into you - it’s too much, too big, too fast, and you hear yourself cry out in pain as your eyes involuntarily snap shut. A second later, a rough pair of fingers tug at your eyelids, forcing them open. The face of your captor bears down upon you, eyes alight with sickening pleasure.

“Does it hurt?”

You nod quickly, tears already building up in the corners of your vision.

“Awww.” He stares shamelessly into your watery eyes, the tip of his tongue sliding over his front teeth as he presses into you. “You’re pretty when you cry, too.” His thrusts are erratic, each one pushing deeper inside you, as if he’s testing how far he can go. As you stretch around him, the pain begins to fade, replaced by a sensation that sends your eyes rolling back, even as your stomach sinks with dread. You don’t want to enjoy this. You can’t. In vain, you attempt to free yourself, squirming desperately beneath him, contorting your trapped hands to scratch feebly at the back of his palm.

“You wanna fight? That’s so cute.” He shoves the full length of his cock inside you, cackling at the way your eyes widen in response. “So, so cute…makes me wanna keep you. Wanna see how long it takes for you to stop fighting…for you to like it…”

You try to tell yourself that he’s babbling, that he doesn’t mean any of it. That he’ll leave, that you’ll never have to see him again, that your life will go on just as it was before. It all feels like a lie. He’s insane, but he believes every word that he says. If he says he’s not letting you go…

“You feel so good.” He groans, and presses his face against your neck. “I don’t think this is gonna last much longer…but that’s okay. We’ll try again. We’ll practice until…” He gasps. “Until forever. Yeah. I’m gonna keep you forever.” His cock pulses inside of you. His hand slips from your wrists and slides under your back, locking you in a deadly embrace - as soon as your hands are free, you try to push him away, but he’s oblivious to your efforts and impossible to move, nestled securely against you as his cum gushes deep into your cunt. He stays where he is for many, many painful seconds, only pulling away when he’s gone soft inside you. Then, he turns you onto your side, and wraps his arms around your waist.

You let your own arms go limp. It’s too late to struggle, useless to try. Much easier to lay your head down, and surrender to the kisses peppering the back of your neck.

“All mine,” he hums, dragging his hand in loose circles over your stomach. “All mine.” He lifts his head, peers over your shoulder. “Oh, come on. Don’t look so sad.” You turn your head to look back at him, a tight knot forming in your stomach as he wipes a stray tear from your cheek. “You should be happy. You got what you wanted!” He cups your face in his hand, and smiles. “You belong to me now. And that means you’re never, ever gonna be lonely again.”

#tw: noncon #tw: dark content #jjk x reader #mahito x reader #mahito #jjk mahito #mahito x you

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sznofthesticks · 1 month

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hey look! i made a tarlos banner! they're so precious and in love im going to be sick (affectionate)

thanks for the tags @paperstorm and @thisbuildinghasfeelings

also, thanks to @lemonlyman-dotcom @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @actualalligator for the tease tidbit tuesday tags, this is me tagging you back if you'd like to share again!! :)

i took a sharp turn from my angsty season 1 tk fic to writing domestic married fluff. <33

this is unedited and ill probably add to this scene. but have a very rough draft friends!!

Carlos was sitting on the couch, reading his romance novel, legs crossed, wearing just a pair of grey jogger sweatpants, with no shirt, glistening, clearly having finished working out not long ago. As he heard the door sliding on the track, Carlos placed his bookmark to save his place and got up to greet his husband.

“Hi, sweetheart, how was your day?” Carlos kissed his husband’s cheek.

TK shrugged, “It was all right. I’m just tired.”

“Are you hungry? Do you want dinner?” Carlos asked.

“Eh not yet. I just want to relax with you.” TK placed a hand on each of Carlos’s cheeks and brought him in for a kiss. “I missed you.”

“You saw me this morning, but I missed you too.” Carlos took TK's hands and intertwined their fingers and led him to the couch. Carlos laid down first and TK crawled on top of him, laid his head on Carlos’s bare chest and nuzzled in, shortly after fading into slumber.

tags under the cut!

no pressure tagging: @reyesstrand @kiwichaeng @strandnreyes @literateowl @safeaswrites @nancygillianmvp @zitasempri @ladytessa74 @honeybee-taskforce @bonheur-cafe @fandomswonderland @welcometololaland @alrightbuckaroo @whatsintheboxmh @herefortarlos @my-little-tilly @fallout-mars @heartstringsduet @carlos-in-glasses @carlos-tk @jeysbvck @sugdenlovesdingle @firstprince-history-huh @your-catfish-friend @vineofroses @inkweedandlizards @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @lightningboltreader @sanjuwrites @reyestrandd and open tag <3

#CARLOS IS A ROMANCE READER. HE IS A SUCKER FOR CHEESY QUEER ROM COMS.#i dont even read romance books much i just picture it in carlos #lol no one cares about my silly headcanons but have this anyways #wip wednesday #carlos reyes #tk strand #carlos reyes x tk strand #tarlos #911 lone star

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anystalker707 · 1 year

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Tea at 9pm

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x [gender neutral] Reader Words: ~ 4 100 Summary: You're not aware the cook had feelings for you. Tags: babygirl sanji / wholesome relationship / reader is a writer who keeps a journal with the crew's adventures / extremely fluffy ending

a/n: comfort fic once again lmao i had an existential crisis

MASTERLIST

If anyone asked what you did, it would feel like you were just a minor part of the crew, presumptuous, even, but things were different when they saw you actually get in action. In the first place, you wrote. You were a writer, author of some great novels that spreaded across the Grand Line, and secondly, you now were a Strawhat who kept a log of the crew’s adventures and fought when needed. The day Luffy recruited you was still fresh in your mind.

"So you’re a writer? You wrote all of this?" Luffy had asked thoughtfully with a hand on his chin as he eyed the piles of books. "Riiight... I need someone to write it down when I become the King of the Pirates! The news’ people always tell things wrong! Come with us!"

A smile traced your lips as you shook your head, now working on the illustration of the last island you'd been to, adding details and a little color. Sure wasn't the best drawing, but you still wanted to keep some sort of reminder from the lovely place.

The soft knock on the door came as it usually did, religiously, and there wasn't even the need for an answer before the door swung open. The click of shoes against the ground resonated through the small office-bedroom as he approached you and finally set the tray on the free space of the desk. Your and his cups were filled with hot tea as they were every night, the flavor declared by the strong smell that came along with the steam escaping from the drink.

"A lot of work today?" Sanji asked you as he took a seat on the armchair, crossing his legs.

"Not really." You shook your head. "We've been in the open sea for a couple of days already, so I'm just updating some old stuff." The drawing you showed him had been finished earlier, already properly inked and depicting part of the crew interacting at the island.

Sanji raised his eyebrows and slowly nodded, a smile decorating his face. "Does it still give you time to work on your personal stuff, though?" He took the unlit cigarette off between his lips and slipped it back into its case that belonged to the pocket on the inside of his blazer, which he ended up taking off and folding to leave it across the armchair’s arm.

“Sort of.” You shrugged a little. “I use a lot of my free time to work on it. It only gets difficult to manage when we’re down to things like when in Spypiea, Sabaody or Marineford. Even afterwards, I still need a couple of weeks to organize everything, interview you guys and stuff. We genuinely go through a lot of stuff, and you only realize it’s that much when you need to register it all down!” You chuckled a little, throwing your arms above yourself to stretch with a soft sigh. “My priority is to keep the crew’s log, though!”

“Oh? Not your career?”

“Of course not!” You shook your head. “You guys are wonderful people who once saved me and now we take care of each other. I can’t let you die—all of this die—without the story being properly told. It’s a great responsibility to keep a record of the adventures...” The words trailed off until you were lost in your thoughts instead, but you just shook your head and closed the few books you had opened after you marked all the pages, leaving untouched only the one that had the drying watercolor. Carefully, you took the still warm cup in hand, inhaling the sweet and rich smell of the tea. “Fruit?”

“Something from that island, but a fruit, indeed,” he justified, momentarily standing up so he could also get his tea. “I haven’t tried it yet, thought it would be best for the both of us to have it together. It’s important to me.”

“What if it’s bad?” You joked, turning your chair so you could face him.

“Then we throw it out the window and you write down how terrible it was so we never try it again!” He clicks his tongue in a feigned annoyance that has both of you laughing until forced to fall quiet to finally try the drink. “Well, I actually like it! You?”

You took a sip of the tea, giving yourself a moment to analyze the taste. “Good! Still not better than my favorite, but it’s still something!” The comment brought a grin to Sanji’s face as both of you shared a look.

Silence filled the room again quite comfortably, allowing you to hear the waves crashing outside. You took a look out the window and then at the clock on the table. “Who’s on the night watch today?” It’d been a while since you last left your room, probably only having done so for dinner during the last hours because Sanji wouldn’t leave you alone otherwise.

“That’s me!” His voice didn’t carry the same excitement as his face did as he looked into the cup.

“Want some company?” You offered. “I’m always up until late messing with my things, either—”

“Don’t think about it!” Sanji shook his free hand as he took a sip of the tea. “You had to wake up early today and take care of your writing this whole time, so you better have a good night of sleep! I know how those can be tiring! Mentally tiring!”

“Sanji!” You furrowed your eyebrows with a pout, but ended up just rolling your eyes once he shot you a glare, compelling him to snicker. A sigh escaped your lips as you leaned back on the chair. “I just wanted to keep you company. I want to show you some story ideas along with some drawings! Your night watch wouldn’t be so boring.”

“As much as I like your company, your rest comes first. I promise I’ll come check out all of that stuff tomorrow, okay? Besides, keep that night energy for when it’s your turn for the night watch!” Sanji lectured you despite the unfazed look you shot him before rolling your eyes—it was almost as if you weren’t the one who would take care of him during the night, either telling him to go to bed already when he cooked until too late or throwing a blanket over his shoulders because he fell asleep in the galley.

You were the first one to finish the drink, putting your empty cup away and wetting the watercolor again until Sanji stood up and placed his cup back on the tray as well.

“Don’t forget to go to sleep,” Sanji said, his face a few inches away from yours as he bent down with a hand on the back of the chair. “I’ll come here and put you to sleep if I notice you’re awake!”

“It’s not happening,” you promised him with a smile.

“Great!” Sanji wrapped an arm around your shoulders in a hug you awkwardly returned as you could, with a hand on his shoulder whilst leaning into his touch. He took the tray in hand so he could leave, wishing you a good night. His blazer was still on the armchair; you shook your head with a chuckle.

The next day, Sanji was still awake when you had breakfast. You quietly observed him swooning over Robin and Nami despite how tired he was, but your attention was on catching up with Luffy, Chopper, Franky, Brook and Usopp. Most of the day, you were locked in your office, reading in the library or drawing one of the tables on the desk, so they wouldn’t lose the opportunity of talking with you during the meals to know what you’d done so far. They loved to see the drawings of themselves, no matter how they were, always bugging you to take a look at something even on days you took off to yourself, so it was easy to spent the morning with them and later talk with Robin and Nami as well, not forgetting to go up to the Crow’s Nest for at least a few minutes to spot Zoro on a rep or two while chatting.

A little after lunch, Sanji knocked on your room’s door. “Hell, I’m really tired!”

You glanced away from your papers to see him kick off his shoes before collapsing on your bed face-first, grabbing one of the pillows to rest his head on, sort of hugging it. “Did you take a nap? You left your blazer here last night, by the way!”

“Oh, so that’s where it was this whole time, thank you! And no! I ended up preparing breakfast during the night then prepared lunch after breakfast was served,” he explained, muffled by the pillow until he turned his head to face you.

“Should’ve tried to get some sleep.” You sighed, dipping your pen in ink again.

“It’s not like that,” he groaned. “I left some food ready just in case, though, just so I can rest now. I thought I’d come talk to you first since I promised.”

You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at the cook, pausing so you could ruffle his hair, which made him close his eyes for a moment. “Nonsense. You could’ve just gone to sleep, I’d understand it! You don’t need to sacrifice yourself.”

“Shhh, I promised.” Sanji narrowed his eyes a little. “Tell me, what did you want to show me?”

“Right... First of all, I had some retouches on the drawings I’d made for Sabaody, so I wanted you to take a look at them to make sure I’m not forgetting anything,” you mumbled while you flipped to the pages where the drawings were and handed the book to him. Through time, your chat grew slower, with sporadic and distant answers coming from Sanji until you looked at him and noticed he was actually asleep. The sight made a small smile stretch your lips before you went back to working quietly as always.

A knock on the door pulled you away from your thoughts and you looked back to see Nami’s head peeking him from the slightly-open door. “Hey, (y/n), have you seen—” She looked around for a little and fell silent.

“Seen what?”

“Actually, nevermind!” She shot you a smile. “Sorry for interrupting!”

“No worries!” You smiled, waving as she quietly closed the door once again.

The new island was filled with casinos, clubs, markets and stores with the most peculiar things that had a great part of the crew voting to stay for longer than a day since there weren’t any worries that tied you down to dates or time. Usopp, Sanji, Nami and Robin seemed excited about a particular club after you took a look at it while getting to know the city, so they invited you and Brook and it was almost impossible to refuse; you easily found yourself getting ready in front of the mirror before you left to go wait for the others with Nami and Usopp. Sanji was the last to show up, covering Nami and Robin with compliments that they already learned not to give much attention to, instead already moving to leave the ship.

“You’re looking extra good today, (y/n)!” Nami smiled, hooking her arm with yours and discreetly distancing from the rest of the group with you. “Trying to catch someone’s attention?”

“Maybe?” You chuckled. “It’s been a while since we last stopped at such a nice island, so I thought a one-night thing isn’t gonna hurt!”

Nami blinked a couple of times. “One-night thing?”

“No new crewmates!” You shook your head, contributing more to Nami’s confused look, which you also didn’t quite understand.

She hummed, looking away for a long moment. “Um, and Sanji?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well...” She breathed and shrugged a little, about to say something when she was hit on the back of the head by something and it was enough for her mood to change completely. Her teeth were gritted and eyes practically white while a vein popped on her temple as she slowly looked back to see the three men stand there quietly, pale, ready for the shouting that promptly came from her along with hits. Robin brought a hand to her mouth as she chuckled, and you sweatdropped, continuing to walk.

The night was long. You’d drunk, not a lot to do things you regretted, but enough to rather easily accept hanging out with people you’d just met, exploring the city and talking bullshit.

“Just a little longer,” the girl said as she waved at you and the two other people that trailed behind, carefully walking through the woods until you made it to a rock on top of a mountain. “It’s gonna be there.” She pointed to a spot behind the mountains of another island in the distance, where it was already lighter and it did seem like the sun would start rising in a few minutes, just as she had promised.

Even with little to help, the four of you made yourselves comfortable on the cold rock; you used one of the guys’ sweatshirt as a makeshift pillow, observing the sky quietly while they talked with each other. Despite the alcohol still in your system, what made you groggy was mostly the lack of sleep.

“Hey,” the girl said as she lay down next to you, on her side, holding herself up with an elbow. “Do you... Okay, I won’t waste time. Can I kiss you?”

You almost choked on your spit, your cheeks immediately growing warm at the question that sent your thoughts racing. At first, all you could do was sputter half words, unable to connect thoughts, until she chuckled and you decided to take a deep breath. “Okay, so, um... I’m... Well, not right now. Actually, I like someone else, a lot. I can’t picture myself kissing another person.”

“Oh. That sucks,” she sighed. “You look really nice, but I don’t think you’re staying around for long, anyways. Say more, though. Tell me about who you like.”

The time your cheeks heated up again was for another reason, with a softer feeling stirring in your chest. “He’s... I think he doesn’t like me, y’know? He’s a real flirt, but not with me. I feel like we are just great friends and it ends there. We are really close, but not the sort of close I wish it were.”

“Did you even tell him you like him?” She raised an eyebrow and you shook your head. “You should!”

“I don’t want it to hurt.” You smiled a little, but without humor.

She furrowed her eyebrows a little as if she understood your situation. “Well, maybe hurting is not a bad thing. It makes you stronger, and it would make you free to kiss other people!” She started to chuckle at the same time you did so, shaking your head a little.

You had a hand over your brow line to keep a shadow over your eyes while your shoes hung from your other hand when you returned to the ship later that same day, already tired and feeling like you’d never get back to Sunny, feeling as if you’d been run over a thousand times. All you could do once you arrived back to the ship was to sleep, only waking up again when it was already late in the afternoon, mumbling something about something being different in your bedroom before you could go for a shower.

“Whoa, look at who’s alive!” Usopp announced once you walked out to the deck, attracting a lot of pairs of eyes to you.

“Good night?” Zoro teased with a chuckle. “Even forgot you had a home!”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you took a seat at a table with Robin. “Shut up, Zoro, you don’t even know how to get home by yourself!”

Given how you’d practically slept all day long, you decided to change turns with Robin and take the night watch for the day. It was a nice, warm night, so you didn’t bother staying outside with your books, illustrating the island during the night. It felt like something was missing, still. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at the galley’s direction. There was no tea that night.

Brook took over the nightwatch halfway through the night, allowing you to sleep and wake up at a reasonable hour in the morning. Nami was the first person you ran into once you left your room, happy for finally feeling well after partying all night a day before. “Nami!”

“Oi, (y/n)!” She smiled as she approached you. “Good morning!”

“Morning!” You smiled in return. “Have you seen Sanji? He didn’t bring me tea yesterday. Actually, I didn’t see him at all, now that I think about it.”

Nami’s face fell in a way you didn’t really like, almost taking a step back as you watched her. “Hm, you see...” She sighed, with a hand on her hip. “You didn’t come back to the ship that night, so he was worried. He even tidied up your room so you didn’t need to do anything when you arrived.”

“Right...? Explains a lot.”

“And he thought you were with someone else. Like, hooking up.”

“I wasn’t but...” You shrugged. “What’s up with that?”

The expression across Nami’s face was the same as when she had seen Luffy let himself fall for Usopp’s lies for the first time. “That made him feel bad.”

“Sanji and I aren’t something, Nami.” You furrowed your eyebrows, reminded of the talk you had with the island’s residents that night.

Nami seemed as if she would explode. “Well, maybe he wishes there were?”

“I—”

“(Y/n), Sanji likes you!” She just gave up with a sigh, taking a quick look around before she continued. “He adores you! He doesn’t flirt with people anymore, he just compliments and does things for them because he’s always believed he needed to, mainly to women! Still, he doesn’t make tea for everyone, every night! He doesn’t stay up until late for anyone or makes them company during the night! I’ve never seen Sanji leave his clothes anywhere else rather than in the male quarters! Besides, he keeps one of your novels and a picture with you under his pillow! I saw it!”

That was a lot to take in. You didn’t know Sanji treated you differently in that sense, in the first place, let alone know that he liked you. It made sense now that you thought about it, of course, because he wouldn’t be spending the same amount of time with the others as well if he was there making you company for most of the day. Some nights, he would be there asleep on your bed while you worked on your books.

“Sorry,” Nami exhaled. “I really didn’t want it all to fall upon you suddenly like this, but you needed to know it already! Sanji doesn’t deserve this! Either reject him already or take care of him. He deserves someone to love him.”

You quickly nodded. “I know.”

Not a lot needed to be said. There wasn’t a lot to be said. You looked at Nami a last time before you walked right back into your room, taking a deep sigh as her words still echoed through your mind, each of them connected to a memory you held and you couldn’t help but to feel a weight in your chest—Sanji must’ve felt terrible when he noticed you disappeared at the club after you refused to dance with him so you could leave with your new friends. It would be easy to fix, at least theoretically, because your stomach churned at the thought of facing Sanji right now.

Your morning wasn’t a lot different from the others, locked in your room and staring at a white page, but the purpose of your writing was different this time. Your feelings were going to be spilled, bleeded all over a page without any filter or restriction because they needed to be understood so no one would be hurt anymore. In the end, it was beautifully folded and with Sanji written in your gold ink while sealed with wax.

Sanji was serving breakfast and chatting around, out on the deck—you double checked—when you sneaked into the galley and left the paper in a safe place, where you knew he’d find it. Hell, it was pathetic. You needed to declare your feelings through a little letter because you didn’t have the guts to face the guy yourself after unintentionally hurting his feelings. In your defense, writing was the best thing you could do.

At the same time it was relieving, you could feel anxiety bubbling under your skin. The situation would slip away from your mind at times, but at others, you felt like Sanji would show up out of sudden saying that you were going crazy. Hopefully not.

When it was night, however, the knock finally came, as it always had done before, without missing a single day, for months straight. You tensed up this time, letting him walk in and watching the tray be placed on the free space of your desk—you didn’t even know when it became instinctive to leave that side clear for the tray. Aside from the mugs, this time, there was a bite-sized sweet as well, your favorite.

“I read it.” Sanji’s voice was small, practically vulnerable. His hand was shaking when it retreated from the tray.

“Sanji—”

“I’m sorry I just concluded things!” He cut in quickly.

You furrowed your eyebrows, turning on your chair, but he didn’t meet your eyes, instead looking at the ground. “No, you did nothing wrong! I should’ve paid more attention, I just... I wasn’t communicative enough as well...” You couldn’t find the right words, express the right things, so you took a pause, standing up. He didn’t take a step back when you approached. “I’m sorry, Sanji. Don’t leave me, please. Nami helped me realize things. Sorry for the time we lost.”

Sanji was almost in the same state, with thoughts roaming around his mind without order, but lacking the courage to be voiced, though he knew he couldn’t lose the opportunity—he couldn’t lose you. “(Y/n).”

“I love you, Sanji. I know I’ve told you this before, but now I mean it in another way.”

Sanji’s face was impossibly red. His hand twitched as he reached out to you; it was as if you two were sparkles searching for each other, looking for the right time to go off, which happened exactly when you took his hand in his and let him pull you closer in a tight hug.

“I love you,” he mumbled in response, and it almost felt as if you’d explode, with your heart skipping beats and fluttering in your chest, not even knowing what it does.

It was a relief, really. A relief and a sea of happiness simultaneously because your doubts and anguishes were extinguished at the same time you were finally able to do what you’ve longed for for so long. You let your nose brush against his before your lips met. The taste and smell of tobacco was undeniable, but it still didn’t erase the fact his lips were soft, returning the care and want that you felt for him.

Sanji seemed giddy, blushing and flustered, but also excited to the point he almost didn’t know what to do with himself. He pulled you with him to sit down on the bed and took a look at you, grinning wide before taking your hands in his; he left kisses all over your knuckles then did the same over your face, needing to pause to smile because of how you giggled, and your lips were pressed together again.

You had to place a hand on his chest so you were able to pull away, climbing on the bed properly to push him down and straddle his hips, taking a moment to observe him look at you with wide eyes. “You’re beautiful,” you whispered, still feeling your heart beat strongly in your chest. Sanji’s cheeks felt warm against your palms when you cupped his face, caressing his cheeks and carefully brushing his bangs away from his face; he swallowed dryly, but never stopped you, hands placed over yours softly. “I love you, Sanji!”

Sanji’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times without saying anything until he finally said it once again. “I love you.” There wasn’t a ‘too’ because his love was independent of yours, he loved you and would do it even if you didn’t love him back. He grinned as the excitement bubbled up in his chest, making him feel all giddy again, in a way it was even hard to contain himself when you leaned in for a kiss once more.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

#one piece #vinsmoke sanji #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #gender neutral #sanji x reader #one piece x reader #imagine #oneshot #fan fic #fan fiction #monkey d luffy #roronoa zoro #usopp #nico robin #nami #tony tony chopper

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kedsandtubesocks · 7 months

Text

Your boyfriend is missing - but that shouldn’t be a cause for concern… right?

pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

wc: 5.6k

warnings & tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. dark elements. roleplay that can be read as yandere like behavior, heavy prey/predator, stalking, moment of home intrusion, fear & knife play, sexual allusions, a lot of licking and spit, finger sucking, themes of terror and fear, feral Gojo, aftercare, reader is called (doll, pretty, baby, angel) also everyone is alive & nothing hurts AU…if I missed anything please let me know

a/n: this is my second submission to Willow’s Haunted House Collab! To be honest…this is my first time writing content like this so I’m a little nervous about posting this piece so I appreciate you taking the time to read and hope you enjoy! Also big thank you to @willowser & @skeletoncowboys for being the best (and worst) little devils on my shoulder to get me to write this

You’re still surprised Shoko knows this many people. But then again a part of you isn’t.

The Halloween party fills every inch of her nice Tokyo apartment. The array of colored lights dance against the wild costumes and you wonder if you’ve slipped into a pocket of wonderland.

Taking a sip of your drink you also now curiously wonder if your faux blood sucking boyfriend has fallen down a rabbit hole himself.

The original plan was to go in matching couples outfits. But once your slightly erratic boyfriend spotted the dracula outfit at the costume store his grabby hands immediately snagged it.

“I’ll look hotter in this one. You understand right, angel?” Satoru triumphant grin said enough.

Begrudgingly, you did. And you couldn’t deny how gorgeous he looked.

White summer cloud hair slicked back, the realistic fake vampire fangs he wore, and even borrowing your eyeliner to add shadow like depth around his piercing baby blues -

He was the dream of every dark supernatural romance novel.

Now among the blaring music and excited chatter of the party your handsome vampire has slipped through your fingers.

Your feet are starting to ache and your soft bed is calling you home. So you decide to scan the crowd for him.

From your spot in the kitchen your attention flickers out to the thick of the party in the living room. You spot Haibara laughing so bright and looking adorable in his spooky scarecrow costume. Nanami stands beside him, simple devil horns on top of his head and a slightly amused grin coloring his distinguished features.

Geto, dressed in his rather impressive phantom of the opera costume, has been attracting a small crowd. He sits on the couch telling scary stories with the others around him. The look of both a composed storyteller and eager listener paints his handsome face even with the mask covering half his face.

Your eyes continue their search among the party.

Along the stretch of the wall lined with grand windows stands an ink blot like figure.

The apartment’s dim soft lighting mixes with the fun colorful lights strung up. Strange shadows fall among the space and at times you’ve caught it playing tricks on your eyes.

Except you clearly can focus on the striking presence across from you.

The stranger wears an all black cloak that makes them stick out against the windows.

And they wear a ghost face mask that completely obstructs any hope of discovering who this is.

The mask stares out so blankly and it’s a bit unnerving.

People chat unphased. A small group even starts an impromptu dance circle at the new upbeat pop song playing. Everyone exists unaware, or possibly uncaring, at the strange presence of the ghost face.

Yet this person stands so still. The mask also seems to be staring directly at you.

It could be someone needing a small break from the party the same way you lingered in the kitchen alone.

Then ghost face lifts a gloved finger up to the mask’s lips.

Shh…

A strange flutter you can’t fully describe rises in your gut. You simply brush off the action as someone being funny.

You now leave the kitchen to fully hunt for your missing boyfriend.

“Have you seen Gojo?” You ask around but the answers are all the same.

“Nope!” Haibara’s bright response comes with an unworried smile.

“No thank goodness,” the same answer comes from both Nanami and Utahime.

“Maybe he turned into a bat and flew away.” Geto, ever the teasing jokester, has you rolling your eyes.

Shoko jokingly even says “who?” when you ask her.

Now you think your boyfriend has decided to be childish and hide in the bathrooms or closet. Because who else would try to be funny and run away during a party but Gojo.

Shoko, with a carefree wave, grants you free range to explore her place.

You’ve been here plenty of times, but now with so many people in the space an annoyed edge bubbles in you. You want to go home. Now you’re having to peek around hoping to spot your ridiculous boyfriend. And there are no signs of him.

Annoyed and frustrated you snag your phone to simply message him.

[Where are you?!]

It takes a moment, but a message comes in from ‘My Bestest Most Handsome Boyfriend Ever.’

Said boyfriend simply replies with one lone emoji.

[🤫]

Another message rushes in. It again is nothing but emojis.

[🤭😘]

Simmering annoyance doubles, tempting to turn into frustration, and you rapidly message him back.

[Satoru I wanna go home and if you keep up this up I’m leaving you]

You’d call a ride or see if someone can take you back. You would leave him here.

A notification chime comes.

[let’s play a game baby 🤍]

[oh so me trying to find your ridiculous ass around Shoko’s apartment isn’t a game?]

[so rude!]

[but maybe it is 😜]

You call his phone. It goes straight to voicemail and you want to scream.

You angrily type out another message and hit send.

[fine whatever, you do whatever you want I’ll see you at home]

His reply rushes in surprisingly fast.

[head home angel, I’ll see you when I get there 🤍]

Now that sparks a strange curious peak in you.

But still so annoyed you angrily close your messages. You’re about to head out of the corner of the hallway you’ve been hanging out in.

So deep in your thoughts, you take one step and run into someone -

The ghost face stranger.

You thankfully don’t collide into him. However, your step falters seeing how close the person is to you.

The black robed body fully faces you, their back to the party, as they stand so direct.

“Oh, uh excuse me.” You mutter and avert your eyes worried as you slide past the stranger.

Not a sound comes, not even a reply. The chilling silence, the looming presence, the dark shadow blocking out the light, it feels like you’re trying to tiptoe past something dangerous.

Out of the hallway you check your phone again.

Still nothing from Gojo.

“Fine, stay here.” You huff out loud thinking maybe he’ll hear you.

A soft whisper of your boyfriend’s voice comes.

“…Baby…”

It cuts through the party even on the gentle breeze you heard it. Quickly you look around, but nothing. Still no sign of Satoru. You glance over your shoulder to check behind you.

Instead of being at the previous spot in the highway, ghost face now peers out from the edge of the hallway's entrance.

The plastic hollow mask continues staring so directly at you that a strange unsettled alarm twists your stomach.

It couldn’t be….

But then again…

You shake away curious and cloudy thoughts wanting to form. Turning on your heels you rush to Shoko’s side and announce you’re going to head out.

Nanami, like a true golden knight he should’ve dressed as, offers to drive you home. Haibara happily decides to tag along. Before you head out, a message alert rings from your phone.

[Come find me downstairs!]

You groan. Of course he managed to slip away from the apartment entirely.

“Sorry guys. I’ll meet you two down in the garage. I think I know where my idiot ran off too.” You sigh and thankfully Nanami understands with his saintly patience.

As you slip into the hallway, the noise of the party fades into a muted soft hum.

After navigating Shoko’s labyrinth-like apartment building you arrive at the main floor downstairs. And of course, your boyfriend again is nowhere to be found. In fact, the beautiful sleek modern lobby is vacant. Normally someone sits at the front desk that is currently empty. In the dark evening, the quiet lurks with an unsettling hollowness.

So you quickly message Gojo.

[where are you??]

No response.

You should’ve known this was going to happen.

The eerie silence, the lack of commotion in this normally occupied space, a strange anxiety swarms in your chest. It drains out the annoyance you had for your boyfriend because now, you just want to leave.

Not wanting to stay here anymore you simply head to the elevator and press the button for the garage.

Footsteps echo behind you and you turn.

Behind you is the ghost face stranger.

Standing so terrifyingly still a chill runs up your back as if you’re staring down an actual ghost, trying to process if this being is real or not. The hollowed out eyes, the deep morphed wide frown, all of it intensifies against the pristine lobby.

Then ghost face tilts their head. The small movement seems so innocent, curious even.

The elevator dings its arrival. Hesitantly you step into the lift while trying to keep your eyes on the stranger.

Once fully inside, a moment of pause comes. It again is just you and the mysterious figure staring at the other.

Suddenly, as if possessed, ghost face runs straight towards you.

Fear rips into you visceral and dizzying. You choke on a scream. Faster and faster he approaches. You shakily scramble to slam on the button to close the elevator doors.

The black robed stranger races closer.

The doors start closing. An arm outstretches hopeful to stop the elevator and terror sinks its fangs into you.

The doors however shut fast.

You’re left staring at the white masks unflinching. The doors fully shut and you watch ghost face disappear out of sight.

The elevator ride is quiet, but your loud heartbeat drums rapidly in your ears. The taste of fear in your mouth has you wondering if you unknowingly transformed into a small creature fleeing from a monster in the woods.

You exhale slowly trying to steady yourself.

The garage thankfully arrives quickly and Nanami and Haibara already wait for you there.

“Are you alright? You seem shaken up.” Nanami notices you with keen eyes.

“Yeah!” You lie as truthfully as you can, even summoning a smile to add to it. “Just feeling a little under the weather now. So I’m just ready to get home.”

That appeases Nanami and the three of you head out.

“So did you find where Gojo went!?”

“No.” You sigh, answering Haibara’s bright question.

“I’m sure he just got called away somewhere and forget to tell you!” He positively suggests.

“Or he’s just playing a trick on me thinking he’s being cute when he’s actually just being a headache.” Your dull annoyed comment has Nanami snorting amused and it warms you.

It helps as a chill air breathes into the dark evening. Softly, a distant rumble of thunder comes. A storm approaches. As you head up to the apartment you already happily think of cozy blankets to end the night.

“Satoru!” You call out.

Silence greets you. So much for meeting you at home.

You start the search again. The bathroom, the extra guest bedroom and even the guest bathroom are all once again Gojo-less. You even check underneath the bed and feel silly when you open up the laundry hamper thinking he could have squeezed himself in there as a prank.

But you realize you would’ve at least heard ridiculous giggling at this point. So, you give up.

Ready to turn in for the night you exhaustedly slip out of your costume and into cozier clothes.

You also decide to try calling your dumb boyfriend again. You left your phone charging in the kitchen and head back to grab it.

A flash of lightning comes, a bright surprise illumination dancing from the window. It draws your attention away for a split moment.

You turn and now before you the ghost face masked stranger stands in your kitchen.

Terror seizes you and you freeze in its grasp.

Ghost face’s presence in your warmly light kitchen reminds you of someone taking a sharpie and placing a solid swipe against a scenic painting. It is a terrifying distortion.

“Satoru.” You snap even though your voice wavers.

The masked stranger shakes their head.

No.

“Sorry doll,” You don’t recognize the voice replying to you. It’s deep warped and distorted. Plus your boyfriend never once called you that - doll.

“Don’t know who this Satoru guy is, but he’s lucky gettin’ to come home to you.” The deep and static like masculine voice purrs.

Your heart drops into your stomach

Now truly staring at the cloaked intruder, you realize how large ghost face is. His broad shoulders fill out the space and he radiates an imposing looming force.

Your eyes stay focused on him but you realize if you move fast, you could maybe reach your phone charging.

So you bolt with all your might.

But the masked man is faster.

In two rapid steps he stops you. With a gloved hand the stranger yanks you into his hold. A scream almost escapes you. But it’s knocked out when ghost face curls around you from behind.

A strong sturdy arm wraps itself across your chest.

“Now now doll,” the intruder tsks light. “And here I thought we could play a lil’ game.”

The gleam of the knife comes first from the corner of your eye. Then, the pointed tip starts running up the side of your body with a delicate leisure ease.

Your eyes go wide as the large kitchen knife effortlessly tracing up a path closer to you. It drags across your clothes, slow and unbothered in its pace.

“You know,” ghost face muses. “You really are a cute one.”

A twinkling glee leaks into the distorted voice.

“Let’s play that game I mentioned, yeah?” He continues.

Your throat goes dry as the knife now drags easily up your chest closer to your face.

“I’m a big fan of hide and seek.” The masked man purrs.

The solid arm that was across your chest now slides up allowing his gloved hand to softly curl around your neck. There is no pressure, just the simple chilling sensation of his presence against your skin. It’s a reminder that at any moment he could tighten his hand on your throat.

“You’re just so cute that I wanna chase ya and keep you forever.” His voice manages to drop deeper, entrenched in something dreadfully haunting.

“I’ll give you five minutes to go run and hide,” he whispers softer and deeper. The white plastic of the mask gingerly scrapes against your face. Your body coils a tense knot of emotions you can’t even seem to sort through.

“And then, I’ll go and find you.” His voice oozes out a rich low confidence.

Then cool metal presses against your cheek. Your eyes snap down and find a knife lying flat against your face. Your heart trips over in itself.

Confused panic now clashes with something dangerously dark you dare not name. It only worsens when a gloved thumb strokes your throat soft, reverently, and a heat licks up your body.

“Get to hidin’ doll… run.” Ghost face whispers.

Then he violently rips himself away from your body and like being unleashed from a cage you bolt.

You don’t even turn around to look at the masked man. Instead you dash further into the apartment.

Your first thought is to crawl under one of the beds. But your heart pounds so fast that any true proper thoughts get scrambled.

All you can think of is the closet, the large walk-in closet you share with Satoru.

Rapidly you rush inside it. You wonder if you should hide standing up along your boyfriend's large amount of tall clothes that could possibly hide you.

Until you spot it - a wonderful carved out space you can crouch in.

Once you wiggle your way in you try settling into the space. Breathing slowly in and out you try to gather yourself together. The length of Satoru’s clothes you hope will work as a cover or even a makeshift barrier to hide you.

Safe within the smell of the cologne lingering on your boyfriend’s clothes, you close your eyes to settle yourself down even more.

You sit in the silence. Tension crawls on your skin.

Time begins feeling sticky and the minutes seem to all glue together. You don’t know how long you’ve been in here or how long you will be.

Then heavy boots slowly march into the bedroom.

Your eyes snap open. The footsteps are leisurely, imposing. Your heart jolts hearing every step.

A slow dread that has been spilling into you like an hourglass now shatters as the footsteps draw closer to the door. Out of panic you can’t help but move your hands over your nose and mouth to keep quiet.

The door creaks open and your heart stops.

Your body tenses up at the sight of the black thick boats stomping into the closet.

Then the light of the closet flickers on illuminating the space.

“You in here, pretty?” the masked man calls out.

The air in the room evaporates as you stay as quiet as you can.

From the way his boots shuffle he seems to be glancing among the hanging clothes trying to find you in the space you thought of hiding in earlier.

A sigh comes from your masked intruder, soft and defeated almost.

He starts walking out of the closet. You rationalize that he must already be bored of trying to find you here. A small dosage of relief fills your body. Your eyes even shut close again as you exhale.

You take a moment to gather yourself in your sheltered space.

Simply breathing in and out, your hands stay against your face to keep you quiet.

Wearily you open your eyes.

Ghost face now kneels before you and peeks at you through the dangling clothes.

You’re thankful your hands still clutch over your face because you let out a small squeak of a scream.

His gloved waves at you gently and teasingly.

Before you can move, before you can even stand up, firm hands dart out. Ghost face grabs your ankle and drags you out of your little hidden cave.

Your body slides out with such ease, without any hesitation. You can’t even process how fast it happens. All you can do is stare up at the looming man above you staring down with the hollowed out soulless eyes.

His entire frame, large and imposing, blocks most of the light from the closet. It bathes him in a hauntingly eerie superposition of a black stain against a sun.

“Hi there doll,” He coo’s. “Knew you couldn’t escape from me.”

His gloved hand reaches out and holds your face firm.

The knife’s sharp edge drags up your body, a slow and casual pace. Your heart crawls into your throat as you lie beneath the power of this haunting force.

It’s simply you and him.

And then the ghost face mask man suddenly giggles.

It’s a playful giggle you know so well that not even the voice distortion can hide it.

It’s the one you hear whenever you trip over your own shoes, or when your boyfriend happily steals your fries…

“Satoru.” You breathe out steadier than you expected. A range of emotions tingles all over your body.

“No.” The voice replies but there's a twinkle in the tone now. “It’s me…scary ghost face man!”

“Satoru.” You repeat firmer.

“Who’s that? Is that your boyfriend? He sounds hot.”

You roll your eyes and are about to sit up when ghost face instead sits back releasing his firm grip on you.

The hand previously on your face moves to the mask and lifts it up.

Even before the rest of his face is revealed you spy the widest toothy smile ever. The mask completely slides up and now shining blue skies stare at you.

The eyeliner he put on earlier for his vampire costume is now a smudged mess from the heat of the mask. It paints him in a grunge like appearance that unfortunately for you looks devilishly hot on him

Still, you can’t help but pout at him.

“You should’ve set a timer. I don’t think you waited a full five minutes to let me hide.” You challenge as you start taking off his gloves.

“Yes I did! I even went and took a few selfies on your phone to let the time run!” Satoru challenges back pouting.

Of course he took pictures.

You can’t help but snort. However as you slide off the thick black gloves, your eyes gloss over a bit. The high, the adrenaline, the fantasy, is fizzling away.

Before you can even say anything, Gojo cries a dramatic sob. He flops down to lie completely on top of you.

“Satoru!” You wheeze as he clutches onto you like a childish koala.

Dramatically loud, Satoru wails your name. He rubs his sweaty face against yours. Yet, his bare hands hold you so delicate.

“Are you okay?” Your boyfriend gently asks genuine, low and cautious as if someone else can hear him.

You nod on an exhale. Your body strangely enough feels comforted with the weight of your protector against you.

Your face turns to burrow against his. The scent of his skin, the soft warmth he constantly radiates, all become a lifeline guiding you back.

The sensation running through your body reminds you of walking out of a haunted house attraction or even finishing an intense scary film. Those types of experiences become a way of facing terror as something fleeting, giving you a moment of fear without truly being in actual danger. It’s why you had even jokingly suggested this play in the first place.

Satoru and you had been costume shopping when he first tried to jump out and scare you. Instead he wore a ridiculous deformed bunny mask.

You simply stared at him bored and told him how ridiculous he looked.

“Aw! Where's your Halloween spirit babe?!” He cried.

You shrugged then went back to glancing at the adorable witch costumes.

“Maybe if it was another mask I saw you chasing me in I’d get scared.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice dipped in an intrigued low purr. “You want me to chase you around?”

“Satoru!” You had hissed in embarrassment and even swatted at him.

Gojo leaned down closer making sure nobody heard him as he whispered to you.

“It’s okay, angel. I kinda wanna chase you around too.”

The true serious conversation that occurred at home after that shopping trip led to this exact moment and you still can’t believe it.

Earlier in the week Satoru had coyly suggested wearing the ghost face costume instead of his vampire one. You had playfully shrugged and didn’t think he was serious.

But of course, you shouldn’t be surprised at anything your boyfriend does any more.

“I still can’t believe you managed to change at the party without me even knowing.” You comment.

“Oh that was easy! I just used Shoko’s private bathroom. I even told her to play along if you came looking for me. She also called us sexy freaks.” Gojo happily chirps, a bit proud, and your face heats up so fast you want to claw it off.

You could never look at Shoko again for the rest of your life, but you would manage.

Satoru shifts now to slide you better into his arms as he maneuvers to rest on the floor beside you.

You and him clutch each other warm and tight.

“As fun and hot as this was…I don’t like seeing you look genuinely scared.” He mutters softly against your forehead.

“You had been doing so good and looked so brave. I felt proud. But when I got you in here, you really did look so spooked.” Gojo continues. His voice trails into a soft tone you’ve learned is reserved only for you.

You had been scared, got caught up in the atmosphere.

“You just did your job a little too well.” You joke with a dry chuckle.

“Obviously.” Gojo scoffs. “Did you expect anything less?”

He really is a terror in his own way and you playfully pinch his side.

“You’re lucky you didn’t get too scary. If you did, I would've had to call my strong sorcerer boyfriend to beat you up.” You tease.

“Oh? Your strong sorcerer boyfriend? Are you sure he isn’t the strongest?” Gojo muses bright.

“Not really.” You grin.

He scoffs.

“You might as well have just taken the knife and stabbed me with it because your words have injured me!”

“Heal yourself then mister strongest sorcerer .” You deadpan.

Playfully Gojo lightly bites your cheek.

“But are you okay… Really?” His tone holds a tenderness and undertone of worry.

“I am, I promise.” You squeeze him firm and tight, even begin rubbing your hand against his shoulder.

“Are you feeling okay?” You ask firmer now.

Gojo nods, snuggling his face closer to you.

There on the floor, you and Satoru decompress. You find it comforting. After such a high adrenaline play, simply resting with him on the floor feels as if you are easing back into your skin. It’s the solidity of reality settling.

“Wait, how did you manage to change your voice?” You perk up curious.

Satoru happily whips out a simple handheld voice changer.

“I wanted to go all out.” He proudly explains with a beaming grin.

“Please tell me you didn’t use a real knife, did you?”

“Of course not!” Gojo shrieks insulted. “I bought a real fancy prop one online when I ordered my fangs!”

For some reason the thought of him spending money on an expensive movie like type prop makes you almost squawk in horror.

Satoru even playfully stabs your side with the fake knife. The poke comes hard but does nothing and you swat at him annoyed now. He snickers gleefully, a devilish gremlin.

His large calloused hand slides up your face. It kicks you out of your thoughts and your attention flickers back to Satoru.

Your boyfriend stares down at you with an interesting gleam in his eyes. His oceanic eyes are like that of a hunter gazing at its prey with a collected composure trying not to jump and consume.

On top of his cloud hair the ghost face mask still sits.

Satoru Gojo leans above you a beautiful terror of a sight. The gleam from the closet’s light illuminates a faint halo-like glow around him. It also electrifies his bright blue eyes. The black kohl liner now even makes them stand out even more.

The dormant arousal that had simmered earlier now reawakens raw in your body as warmth trickles across your skin. Your eyes even haze over as they stare at his soft lips.

Before you can even say anything, Satoru sweeps down fast and low. A creature striking fast, he captures your lips with his.

His tongue without hesitation licks into your mouth with a devastating dizziness. You clutch onto him tight and desperate. He’s kissing you like you will fade away at any moment, or like he’s enjoying his reward.

His lips chase after yours so messily, sloppily and without any finesse. Teeth click and even spit seems to slip more and more around your mouth.

Suddenly he starts licking at the spit that’s coated your lips and corner of your cheek. He seems possessed as he simply licks at you without any care. Gojo slides his tongue down to your jaw and tastes the salt of your skin.

He nips and bites softly at every inch of you he can reach. You’re reminded of a beast trying to consume with a feral want. A prickling heat now scourches across your body.

Caught up in that same frenzy Satoru kisses down your body over your clothes until he reaches your shorts.

Wearily you open your eyes to glance down at him.

Between your legs is a sight that melts your brain. With his holy angelic eyes, electrified and blown out, along with the terrifying ghost face mask on his cloud head, Satoru is a blissful frightening sight.

He breathes out your name, a ghostly whisper.

Cerulean eyes are now bottomless oceans as he kisses your core over your shorts repeatedly. You whine breathless and desperate, wanting him closer. Glancing down, you see Satoru once more stares up at you with a devouring hunger that has your eyes closing overwhelmed.

He fucks you there in the closet. The taste of it is wild, a frantic claim.

You and him end up entangled with each other, sticky and exhausted still on the floor. The clothes hanging above create a soft canopy.

Satoru’s fingers run up your arm tender while you rest in his arms.

“Who knew the ghost face mask was gonna do that for us huh? Guess Shoko was right. This really means we’re really a pair of certified hot freaks now.”

You screech a horrified sound and want to pummel your annoying boyfriend.

“What!? This is hot as hell baby!” Gojo argues back proudly, almost smug, and it only makes you angrily wiggle away from him.

Of course he keeps you firmly captured in his strong hold and doesn’t budge an inch.

“What if we try this again but with another mask?” Satoru asks dreamily.

“You’re already a clown, you don’t need another mask.” You reply.

“BABY!?” He sobs out absolutely horrified and dramatically hurt. You laugh and curl tight against this stronghold of a man.

“You wound me! I absolutely for sure have internal bleeding right now!” He continues sobbing while he burrows his face against the top of your head.

Being on the floor for so long starts aching so you slowly sit up. Gentle warm hands begin rubbing your back while you stretch. Glancing around at all the discarded clothing littering the floor, you spot the ghost face mask. In the heat of the moment your fingers had carded through Satoru’s soft hair and the mask slipped off.

It so innocently yet hauntingly stares out with those vacant hollow void eyes. A strange urge crawls up your neck and sinks its fangs into you. Grabbing it you turn back to Satoru who stares up at you with a dreamy softness.

“Oh?” He catches the sight of the mask and sits up. His curiosity sparks awake playful and fast. “What do you have in mind?”

You softly shush him and gently slide the mask over him.

With it completely covering his face, knowing fully it’s him and not having to pretend, does break the illusion.

However, it cracks open something new that is dangerously raw and hungry.

Your thumb strokes the side of his face where the soft latex of the mask covers his cheek.

Leaning forward you kiss him over the mask. You taste the annoying synthetic fabric of the mask. Yet a wild heat comes when you feel his lips through the fabric. Satoru’s hands slowly run up to your shoulders to hold you as you kiss him through the fabric.

It ignites a delirious frustration that feels so good. His mouth desperately tries to feel you against the fabric that quickly starts to get wet.

Another raw idea flashes in your mind. Softly you pull away from his lips. You think of Gojo and how his tongue claimed you in a flurry.

So with a soft tentative kitten like attempt, you lick at his lips through the mask.

Something wild unleashes itself in Satoru. He rapidly sweeps you into his arms with his godly strength and simply lifts you up from the floor. His lips moan against yours.

“Keeping this on.” Gojo slurs as he rapidly moves you and him towards the bed.

You shake your head rapidly agreeing. The plush bed hits your back.

Above you, once again the ink stain presence of ghost face stares down at you. Your fingers do ache to run into his hair, across his delicious undercut. But those simple aches are crushed against the clear sight of your Satoru as ghost face. You vividly see Satoru’s broad shoulders, feel the touch of his bare hands caressing your thighs so intently.

“I caught you fair and square, my sweet little treat.” Now it’s his voice, unmodulated and clear as crystal, cooing triumphant underneath the mask.

“Now… I think I wanna unwrap you again.” Gojo whispers and it slices under your skin deliciously.

Beautiful debauched arousal rapidly consumes you as you claw at him wanting him closer.

“You like knowing it’s me under here, baby?” Satoru continues. His fingers begin kneading into your soft thighs, anchoring himself to your body.

His long fingers softly swipe into the slick arousal pooling between your legs and a whimper flutters out of you.

“Me too.” Gojo whispers, almost admitting with a quiet glee.

“I like knowing I'm under here getting to chase you, knowing I’ll always catch you and have you all to myself.”

Pulling his fingers out, they shine coated in your wetness. He slips them under the mask. Suddenly the sound of him sucking fills the room and your mind melts even more.

Satoru groans, drunk on pleasure. Even with the mask hiding his face it somehow heightens the moment and you claw at his arm firmer.

Taking the hint, Gojo slides fully between your legs to draw closer to you. He now takes the fingers in his mouth to slide them into yours.

Your eyes close and roll back. You suck on his wet fingers covered in his spit and the faint linger of your arousal. He begins grinding against you and you moan needed more of him all over again.

It's delicious and dark, this beautiful cobweb of desire you and Satoru are caught in.

“That’s it, angel. Let’s keep enjoying our fun little fright night, yeah?” Your ghost face lover purrs and as you sink into lust’s heavenly darkness, you find you couldn’t agree more.

#I am posting this and fleeing into a pit I’m sorry 😭🤡#also I made the banner myself and am kinda proud 🥹 okay that’s all BYE #Gojo 🩵#ghost face!gojo #Gojo x reader #Willow’s Haunted House Collab

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delicatebarness · 13 days

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i think he knows | chapter four

Summary: Tension rises for the youngest Rogers as she fears Steve knows.

Warnings: A use of 'Y/N' at the beginning. Wanda is a hopeless romantic.

Word Count: 1031

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A/N: I need to slow down, this series is now 4 weeks ahead of the schedule I made. And, I haven't even started writing the next chapter of Winter's Child yet. This chapter is a relatively small one as I'm planning to make chapter five the longest one yet.

Tags: @bigtreefest | @caplanbuckybarnes | @angelbabyyy99 | @mega-kittyglitter-1 | @cjand10

Wanda followed you around the library as you searched the shelves, her eyes widened with excitement as you recounted last night’s ride home with Bucky. She was hanging on your every word.

“You, Y/N Rogers, rode on a motorbike!” She exclaimed in a hushed tone, she could barely be contained. “Tell me everything! How was it? What did Bucky say?” She tried to get you to look her in the eye so she could read what your mouth wasn’t saying. “Wait, what did Steve do? Your dad?” She gasped.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at her excitement, her infectious curiosity. “It was… exhilarating,” you admitted with a gentle sigh, the adrenaline and the way the wind rushed against your skin, you remembered every second of it. “He made me feel so safe, Wanda. He even made sure I was wearing his helmet.”

Her eyes widened further, you didn’t know she could do that. “He gave you his helmet? Oh my, ugh, that’s so romantic!” She let out a quiet squeal.

Shrugging her comment off, you tried to downplay the romantic aspect. “I think he was just being a good host, making sure I was safe.” You continued to recount the ride to your best friend, describing the thrill of the moment. How you felt having your arms wrapped around him, clenching his Henley shirt in your hands. You found yourself longing for that feeling again.

She did continue to ask about Steve and your dad, but you shrugged her off again explaining quickly that Bucky stopped at the corner of the street and watched you walk back from there.

“Sounds like something out of a romance novel,” She mused whilst leaning against the bookshelf you were searching through. She wore a dreamy smile on her lips as her mind wandered. You were positive that she was thinking about Vision. They had been crushing on each other from the second she moved here. Neither one was confident enough to make the first move, even though they were both aware of the other’s feelings.

You let out a huffed laugh as you shook your head. “I don’t know about that,” A hint of uncertainty crept into your voice. “It was just a ride home.”

As the day progressed, you found yourself sitting at your usual table in the cafeteria with Wanda and Peter. The chatter of your classmates filled the air but your attention was barely focused on your friend's conversation.

“Are you two going to the game on Friday?” Peter’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he nodded towards the banner reminding you and others of the date, time, and which school it was against.

“I heard it’s going to be a big one,” Wanda replied, picking at the sandwich that was placed on her tray. Her mood had shifted from joyful to disgust the second she realized she had forgotten her lunch and would have to eat the stale bread the cafeteria served.

“Yeah… Steve’s been practicing nonstop,” Your attention had been drawn to a tense moment at Steve’s usual table. Steve and Sam, his best friend and right-hand man for almost everything, stood in deep conversation. Their expressions were serious, Steve’s frown had his eyebrows knotted together tightly. Sam’s gestures were animated, he was trying to explain something to your brother while he listened intently. “What do you think they’re talking about?”

Wanda and Peter’s attention snapped to where you had been looking, they both shrugged. “The game I’m guessing,” Wanda shrugged as she got back to the sandwich in front of her, ultimately deciding to push the tray away from her. “Yeah, it’s a pretty big one for the both of them,” Peter added.

“Yeah, could be,” you replied as your mind raced with possibilities. Deep down, you had a feeling that there was more to it than a football game.

You watched Steve and Sam, curiosity tugging at your thoughts. There’s no way this was about the football game, the way they were talking hinted at a deeper issue. Lost in speculation, you barely noticed both Wanda and Peter trying to get your attention. “You good?” Wanda’s voice finally snapped your focus back to them, she gave you an empathic look. She could only imagine what you were thinking after what you confessed to her only a few short hours ago.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” you replied with a weak smile. As you reassured your friends, your mind continued to race.

The unanswered questions played on your mind for the rest of the day, you debated on speaking to Steve about it on the drive home or after dinner. You decided against it, you feared the possibility of it being Bucky-related and worried about raising suspicion.

The final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. As you gathered your belongings from your locker, a movement that didn’t match the patterns of the rest of the hallway caught your attention. It was Bucky, he gestured for you to follow him once he noticed he had you. Blending into the crowd, you made your way down the hallway to the room that Bucky entered. It was empty, he closed the door when you reached him, pulling a blind down to cover the small window in the door.

“What’s going on?” you asked, as you turned to face him.

Bucky hesitated as he closed the distance between you, “I wanted to ask you something,” his voice was low, pushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “I was hoping you’d like to go for another ride with me on Friday night?”

Your heart skipped a beat, was that a date invite? Was he asking you on a date? As much as you wanted to say yes, even if it wasn’t as a date, you couldn’t.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice filled with regret. “Steve’s playing on Friday, my whole family will be there.” You dropped your head as the glint in his eyes disappeared as disappointment filled them.

Bucky nodded. “I understand, Sunshine,” Using his finger, he lifted your chin so you were looking back at him. “You know where I’ll be if you change your mind.”

---

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mint-yooxgi · 1 year

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Written in the Stars - Yandere!Idol!Yeosang X Tall!Chubby!Reader

Soft Yandere AU & Idol AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor, Slow Burn

Pairing: Yeosang X Reader (ft. platonic Ateez ensemble)

Words: 11,875

Warnings: Slow burn. This story is going to be very self indulgent on my part, so please bear with the first few chapters. Jongho is an over excited fanboy. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: So, I decided to just say 'fuck it' and post it anyways! I got too excited and just had to share, so I really hope you all enjoy what I have planned. I have SO much already for this series, and like I said in the warning, it's definitely going to be quite self-indulgent on my part but it IS based off my own dream, so... anyways, as always feedback is greatly appreciated. Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist

A low exhale escapes you through your nose as you stand in line waiting to board the plane. Absentmindedly, your thumb brushes over the front of your passport, your boarding pass tucked neatly inside.

Shifting your weight onto your opposite foot, you adjust the straps of your backpack slung over your shoulders. Despite your best efforts to pack light, the heaviness weighs you down, feeling the corner of your laptop harshly digging into your shoulder blade. Perhaps you should have packed a few more of your books into your checked luggage after all.

It’s not every day that you get to move to South Korea for approximately a year or more, depending on how well writing your next book goes. The decision had been meticulously planned out, seeing as your publisher has arranged a fairly large book signing in the heart of Seoul a few weeks from now.

To say you were pleasantly surprised to learn how well your books are doing in South Korea is an understatement. You were more than happy to agree to it, especially when you have also been personally invited to perform a new piece of writing at one of the many award shows this season. It seems the organizers really appreciate your way with words, and want you to compose a short poem of sorts to encompass the emotions and influence different types of art has around the world.

It seems as if you’ve become a somewhat popular international author within the country, and you are more than happy to attend any and all events they ask you to. Subsequently, the offers were too good to refuse, and you’ve always wanted to move to Seoul for a few years. At least now you have a good reason to stay.

It has taken you years to get to where you are now, but being a well established international author has truly been everything you could have ever asked for. Writing has always been your passion, and you’re just glad that you can share it with the world. With a little extra on the side, of course.

Slowly, the line begins to move in front of you, and you blink to regain your focus. It looks as if they’re finally boarding for zone two, and you honestly just can’t wait to get settled in your seat and sleep. You’re hoping to at least catch a few hours before you attempt to work on a bit of your next book. The idea you’ve been mapping out is a big one, and you’re hoping the words flow just as easily for this one as all of the previous novels you’ve written.

The length of the flight has yet to be determined if it’s your enemy or ally.

Maybe you’ll just watch a few movies instead…

As more and more people advance, you can feel those familiar jitters of excitement coursing through your veins. Every time you visit another place, but especially when it relates to your writing, you cannot hide your eagerness. The adventures you can have are endless, and you honestly cannot wait to see a few of your friends again. Some, you’ll even be meeting for the first time. Well, if their schedules allow.

When you had arrived at the airport, getting through security after checking in had been a little heinous.

First of all, you had a few too many bags, but since you’ll be moving to a completely new country, you need almost all of your things to take with you. Plus, you don’t want your new home to be too empty. You’re just grateful your mother will be sending along a few care packages with some of your bulkier items, like your favourite blankets and a few of your trinkets once you’ve gotten settled in.

Then, came security.

There seemed to be a rumour floating around that some celebrity or something was supposed to be on this same exact flight. A few overheard hushed whispers, and you determined the celebrities to be some Korean pop group. Though, you doubt that’s the case. Despite not really paying attention to the other passengers, you haven’t exactly seen any idols around.

Needless to say, security took longer with all the fans trying to sneak through.

At least you still made it to the gate with plenty of time to spare. You even had some free moments to browse the airport bookstore, noticing a small display of your own books near the front table. The way the workers had stacked your newest release in a mini-pyramid of sorts still makes you smile. The fact that you signed a few of the copies had made the workers’ day, taking a few photos with one of the girls who happened to be a big fan of your work.

Looking back on it now, you cannot help but to grin to yourself as you begin to make your way onto the plane. The worker who scanned your ticket seemed to look on you in awe, brief understanding lighting up their eyes after handing you your passport back. They probably recognized your name, if anything. The fact that you nodded back to them in acknowledgment seemingly made their day.

Truly, this is a dream come true.

Stepping onto the plane, you’re quick to find your seat. You made sure to pick the window of the very last row in premium, as you’ve always enjoyed watching the scenery as you fly. Take off and landings are your favourite parts. Plus, with no one behind you, you can recline without worry or fear that you’re infringing on someone’s personal space.

Luckily, it doesn’t appear that your seat partner has arrived yet, and for that, you’re grateful. Honestly, you hope no one actually sits beside you just so you can have a bit more space to yourself. Plus, it’ll make you more comfortable if you decide to actually get some writing done on the plane.

You’ve always had a sense of paranoia about writing around strangers, given how often people like to snoop. The last thing you want is to be writing some steamy scene, or something completely gruesome, and offend the person you’re sitting beside. Though, you mainly only get that feeling when writing on your laptop.

Sliding your overstuffed bag beneath the seat in front of you, you settle into your own. Your purse gets shoved to the side beside your feet as you unceremoniously kick your backpack as far beneath the seat as it will go.

The joys of premium economy: much needed leg room, and better seating. Though, you can just hear your publisher’s voice in the back of your head, chastising you for not buying business class.

You huff lightly to yourself as you click your seatbelt on. Like hell you’re going to pay something ridiculous, like four grand, in order to have your own private podlike seat. That’s way too much for a one way ticket, and besides, premium is just fine. You’ve been lucky enough to fly it before, anyways.

Settling fully into your seat, you pull out your phone. Unlocking the device, you shoot a quick text to your family letting them know that you’ve just boarded the plane and are waiting for take off.

Of course, they reply quickly, telling you to have a safe flight and that they’ll miss you greatly. Most of all, though, to have fun on your new adventures.

A soft smile paints your features as you tell them that you’ll message them once you land, and if there’s time, phone once you make it to your new apartment. As soon as you see their response in confirmation, you’re turning your phone on airplane mode and grabbing your headphones out of your purse.

Movement from your left catches your attention, and you see a few people settling into the seats near you. You take a moment to assess your new seat buddy before turning back to your phone, plugging in your earbuds without another thought.

Looks like you’ll be sitting next to a guy for the entire flight. Not that you mind, but the last guy you sat beside on a long flight like this tried to talk your ear off about politics and how ‘kids these days don’t have the same respect they used to.’

The worst part? The man didn’t look that much older than you.

Oh well, it could have been worse. It could have also been like that one time you sat beside a lady who told you everything wrong with your first book, and what she would have done to fix it and make it better.

Holding your earbuds in one hand, you scroll through your playlist, searching for a song you want to listen to before putting them in.

From beside you, you can hear some hushed whispering in Korean, each voice distinctly male. The words ‘writer’ and ‘newest book’ catch your attention in-between the bustle of the other passengers boarding the plane, and you nearly let out a sigh.

Just as you go to place your buds in your ears, you hear a gentle voice pull you out of your thoughts.

“Excuse me?” The words are low, cautious, as if he’s unsure of himself. Surprisingly, they’re in English.

Lifting your head, you shift your gaze to the side. The way your eyes blink in mild surprise, caught immediately off guard by who you see sitting beside you, is apparent. Ever so slightly, your breath hitches in your throat.

“Are you…” he trails off, brow furrowing as if he’s searching for the right word in English.

Out of the corner of your vision, you see a face peering out across the aisle from the row in front of you. His hands grip the seat firmly as he angles his body towards both you and the male beside you. Though, from the way his face keeps being blocked by more passengers boarding the plane, what he attempts to whisper to his friend goes unnoticed. At least, by the unsuspecting male. However, at the way you can hear the word ‘author’ lightly cut through the crowd, you grin softly.

“It’s alright, I can speak Korean.” You reply casually.

The way you see the male visibly freeze in his spot, body seemingly relaxing immediately after has you chuckling slightly.

“You do?” The surprise is clear on his features, but he’s quick to hide it in the next second.

“Not very well, but sufficiently enough.” You say. “My Japanese is better.”

You can see the way his brow twitches slightly in acknowledgement, that same look of surprise shining within his gaze.

“Anyways, my friend would like to know if you’re actually the author that wrote this book.” He says, lifting the object slightly in his hand.

An object of which you didn’t even notice before, too wrapped up in your own little world.

Sparing a glance at the book, a soft smile graces your features. For there, resting in his hands, resides a copy of your latest novel from the airport bookstore.

“I am.” You confirm with a small nod.

The male turns back to his left, seemingly having a silent conversation with his friend across the aisle. From his body language alone, you can tell that your seat buddy is slightly exasperated. Especially when his friend looks about ready to lunge across the aisle after the one sitting beside you asks him very lowly if he has to.

The announcement for final boarding call is heard over the speakers, the cabin crew now moving to secure the plane for take off.

You can only quirk a brow in amusement as your seat buddy heaves a tremendous sigh before turning back to face you.

That’s when you notice two more heads popping up over the seats in the middle section, one row in front of you. One sports bright, flaming red locks, while the other has a head full of black hair. They not so subtly peer over the back of their seats, looking in your direction as the one sitting right next to the aisle with bleached locks still has his eyes locked on you.

“I’m so sorry to do this to you; you probably get this a lot,” he sighs, and you can literally feel the death glare the male directly across the aisle from him is sending his way. “But do you think you could sign this for him?”

The plane begins to move. Briefly, you hear a flight attendant tell the three males in the row in front of you that they need to sit properly in order to prepare for take off.

Your brow quirks. “I thought I already did.”

This causes the male across the aisle to practically fall out of his seat as he reaches across to tear the book out of your seat buddy’s hands. You notice that he practically shreds through the front page in order to flip through to where your signature practically shines back up at him.

You notice a vibrant red beginning to creep up his neck as you chuckle lightly.

“I can still add a personalize message, if you’d like?” You lean forward slightly, looking directly past the male sitting beside you.

The way you visibly see the male perk up, practically throwing the book back at the one sitting beside you has a large grin pulling at your features. You can feel your own face heating from this interaction, heart pounding in your chest.

“Flight crew, prepare for take off.” The captains voice is heard over the intercom, and you realize you missed the entire safety demonstration. Not that you haven’t seen it all before.

“That would be great,” the male sitting beside you says, seeing as the other one seems too excited to speak for the moment. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” you smile, reaching down to grab a pen from your bag.

“Excuse me, Miss,” the soft voice of a flight attendant draws your attention to the aisle beside you. “Please remain in an upright position until the plane has left the tarmac.”

“Right, sorry,” you smile sheepishly, a nod to your head.

Turning back to the males beside you once the flight attendant walks away, you pat the cover lightly.

“I’ll sign this as soon as we’re in the air, okay?”Your voice is sweet, holding the book lightly in your lap.

“Thanks again,” the male beside you nods.

“Of course,” you repeat. “It’s not everyday an idol from one of your favourite groups asks you to sign something for them.”

Four heads whip in your direction: the male sitting beside you, the two directly across the aisle from you, and the one who had been turning around to face you one row up. The surprise is clear on their features, and you’d bet anything that the two you saw peeking over their seats earlier would be doing the exact same thing once again if they could.

“You know who we are?” The one from directly across the aisle sounds completely awestruck. “You know who I am?”

“Yes, I do,” you nod gently in his direction, a small grin tugging at your lips. “Choi Jongho from Ateez.”

You swear that this man is about to faint from how red his face goes.

“Right now, though, you’re all just some guys on a plane,” you say. “And we all just so happen to be heading to the same destination.”

A slight whine from the row in front of them draws your attention.

“Joong, tell Yunho to stop kicking the back of my seat!” With the familiar intonation, you can just tell that it’s Wooyoung.

“Well, then stop hopping around.” Said male turns briefly towards his opposite side before turning back to continue observing this interaction between you and the other members.

You huff out a laugh, feeling as the plane begins to accelerate for take off. A moment later, and that familiar sense of weightlessness takes over, signifying you’ve left the ground.

“So, you’re a fan, then.” A statement, rather than a question comes from the man sitting beside you.

“For my part,” you hum, a tender smile pulling at your lips. “I saw you guys in concert a few years ago when you came to my city. You’re all incredible performers.”

You notice all four of them that are still looking at you become a little bashful at your words. Mutters of gratitude escape their lips as they bow their heads in your direction, and you are once again reminded of just how humble this group is.

“Then, you know who all of us are.” Again, another statement leaves the male beside you as he observes you with curious eyes.

“I do indeed know who you are, Kang Yeosang of Ateez.” You repeat your little phrase from earlier. A moment later, you shrug. “It’s like I said, though, right now you’re just some guy.”

A ding sounds, indicating the seatbelt sign going off once you’ve reached altitude. As soon as you hear it, realization flashes across your features, and you lean forward to grab a pen out of your bag.

“So, did you want me to address this to you, or is there a specific nickname you’d like me to use?”You direct your question towards the youngest member sitting across the aisle from you.

“Uh…” Jongho blinks, shifting forward slightly as he undoes his seatbelt. “Nickname?”

“Yeah,” you confirm. “Sometimes people like me signing a term of endearment from one of my books in front of their name, or even instead of their name. I can do that, or something else. Just nothing weird, like ‘Daddy’, or anything like that.”

A head pops up over the seat in front of you. “Someone’s asked you to sign a book for them addressed to ‘Daddy’?”

“Oh, hello, Song Mingi from Ateez.” You blink in mild surprise.

“Hello.” A subtle nod and an immediate look of meekness crosses his features. Almost as if he couldn’t help but pop up and join in on this conversation with you.

“I thought we were all just some guys to you right now?” Yunho quirks a brow at you from down the row.

“Listen, this is the only way I know how to-“ you search for the right word, looking up at the ceiling of the cabin all the while. A slight tilt of your head in realization is the only sign they get that you’ve thought of the word, “dispel my excitement for the moment. I’m pretty sure my heart is about to burst from how furiously it’s racing right now.”

You see Seonghwa poke his head around the edge of his seat to look at you. Only, you see him flinch in the next second, slowly shifting so he’s now peering over the top of his seat just as Mingi does.

Looks like Hongjoong didn’t like the fact that his sight was being blocked.

“I think the feeling is mutual,” at the way you see Yeosang motion towards Jongho with his head, you crack a grin.

“So,” you catch the last dregs of the glare Jongho sends Yeosang’s way before the youngest is meeting your gaze once more. “Nickname?”

Knowing grins tug at a few of the male’s faces around you, Yunho nudging Jongho teasingly in his side.

Again, the youngest shoots a pointed look at the male on his opposite side before turning to look at you. Red begins to creep up his neck as he averts his gaze to the floor before continuously flicking it up to meet your own.

“I’ve always liked ‘Darling’,” he admits, and you notice how Yunho nudges him teasingly while more of the guys shoot him knowing grins.

This time, it’s your turn for your cheeks to heat as you hum. “How fitting.”

Flipping open to the page with your signature, you twirl the pen in your fingers once. A moment later, and you’re scribbling out a message.

To My Darling Jongho,

The stars look up to you. Keep shining!

Signing it off with a ‘Your Fan’, you’re quick to add your name. However, before you hand it back to him, you add a little note at the bottom.

P.S. You have a lovely voice.

Adding a small smiley face, you’re quick to cap your pen and shut the front cover.

The moment you hand the book to Yeosang to pass back to Jongho, you notice a few of the other members sliding back into their seats. The youngest eagerly snatches the book back from the elder, opening to the page with your signature on it without a second of hesitation. The way you see him visibly shake in excitement, a large smile stretching onto his features warms your heart.

There’s a part of you that really wants to ask him about his favourite characters, and what he’s thought about your books, but you hold off for now. You wouldn’t exactly start a conversation with him otherwise, and you don’t want to bother him too much. Besides, he seems far too content to pull out the Korean translation of your previous book from his bag shortly afterwards.

Figuring he wants to read, you turn back to face the seat in front of you. Leaning down, you go to put your pen away, kicking your bag lightly back beneath the seat.

“Yeosang,” you hear a harsh whisper from your left. “Switch seats with me.”

A moment of silence where you notice the aforementioned male shoot a disinterested look towards Jongho.

“No.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Jongho practically seethes, a frown tugging at his features. “I swear to god, Yeosang, I will split you in half like an apple.”

“Yes, I’m sure your favourite author would love to sit beside a man who just threatened to snap me like a twig.” Yeosang deadpans, reclining his seat back as far as it will go.

You’re about to make a comment on the situation, torn between jokingly saying that that’s actually kind of hot, or telling them that you don’t mind at all, when a voice draws your attention from in front of you.

“So,” it’s Seonghwa, peeking over the top of his seat once more. His hands grip the headrest, and you cannot see his mouth, but the way his wide eyes shine as they look towards you nearly makes you swoon. “Who’s your bias?”

You notice that this catches all of the member’s attention, and you suddenly sink back into the seat you’re in. That is, until you quirk your brow, a teasing grin causing the corners of your lips to twitch upwards.

“My ult?” You tilt your head. “I think I’m very explicit about it being Lee Taemin.”

You can visibly see the way his shoulders deflate at your words, and you briefly look around at all of the males that now seem to be peering at you from over their seats.

“No,” Seonghwa practically whines. “Of the group!”

“Which group?” The expression you wear is nothing short of amused as you see Seonghwa begin to pout before you.

If someone had told you that you’d be making the Park Seonghwa from Ateez pout because you wouldn’t tell him your bias from his group, you would have laughed in their face. Even more so when you notice Hongjoong staring at you with a mildly pointed look in your direction. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear that he’s almost daring you to say that it’s anyone else but him.

“Our group, of course!” He frowns, leaning the slightest bit forward to rest his chin on top of his hands as he watches you carefully.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice San lean into Wooyoung from a row ahead.

“Has she answered her bias yet?” The male not so subtly whispers to the younger.

“Shh, not yet.” Wooyoung hisses back. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”

“Who’s your bias in Ateez?” Mingi is the one to ask you this time, and you shift your attention to him for the moment.

Again, your cheeks flare with heat.

“Now, isn’t that the million dollar question?” You breathe, letting out a chuckle as you grab your phone in your hand once more. “Nah, sorry boys. If you want that answer out of me, you at least have to buy me a drink first.”

“Is your bias your lockscreen?” Jongho asks, an eager gleam in his eyes as the males closest to you now divert their gazes to your phone held in your hand.

“My lockscreen definitely takes priority,” you grin knowingly, and you watch them all eagerly lean in to catch a glimpse of the photo. “Since I won’t have wifi for such a long time, I always change it to a list of things I should probably get done on the plane."

Clicking the side button reveals said list on your screen.

A collective sigh of defeat is heard from the males around you as you chuckle. Only, in the next moment, your brow furrows.

“Wait, how do you know I usually keep one of my biases as my lockscreen?” You turn towards Jongho.

“Lucky guess?” He shrugs, another blush creeping up his neck.

“He started screaming about it during one of your lives once someone translated your remark.” Yeosang casually states, shifting slightly in his seat to get more comfortable as he settles in for a nap.

You swear that were it not for the way another passenger walks by to use the restroom, Jongho would have lunged at the male sitting beside you.

Still, you cannot help the way your eyes shine in awe. “You watch my lives?”

Jongho avoids your gaze, fumbling over his words for the moment. His hands nervously toy with the pages of the book in his lap, and you nearly coo at how bashful he suddenly looks.

“When he can.” Yunho supplies for him with a soft smile. “Sometimes Hongjoong and I watch, too. It helps when Joong can translate some of the things you say.”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest at the implication, and you cannot keep the hopefulness out of your voice. “You guys have read my books, too?”

“Even if it weren’t for Jongho ranting and raving over your writing, our other friends are pretty persistent.” Hongjoong replies, a soft smile pulling at his features. “You’re very popular back home.”

“Yeah, Changbin told me that Felix recommended him this book, so he just had to tell me about it.” Wooyoung supplies.

“Members of Stray Kids have also read my novels?” You say, though with how lowly you whisper it, it’s more to yourself in awe.

“I know! I was surprised, since Bin will barely even look at books half the time,” Wooyoung laughs, eyes crinkling in joy.

“You’d be surprised by how many of us read your novels.” Yunho hums, settling back in his own seat for the moment.

“Wow,” you breathe. “Honestly, it’s something I always think about, but I still never expect it. The only idol I know for sure that reads my books is Mark Lee of NCT.”

“Oh, yeah, we didn’t hear the end of that for weeks,” San calls out over his chair, shooting a look towards Jongho.

“‘Why can’t we get personalized signed copies of her books?’” Wooyoung imitates the youngest, nearly getting shoved out of his chair in response.

“I’d send her a full on review along with our albums if she gave me a chance,” Hongjoong laughs, receiving a harsh kick from Jongho to the back of his seat.

“Remember the one time he said he’d serenade her?” Yunho supplies, a fond chuckle falling from his lips.

Jongho instantly wraps his one arm around Yunho’s throat, pulling the taller man into his side as the elder hunches over uncomfortably. “Want to die?”

You cannot help the way you laugh, eyes falling shut as you lean back in your seat. Your one hand rests over your chest as you catch your breath, blinking away your tears of joy shortly after. The scene is much too comical for you not to react, anyways.

The moment your vision clears, you notice Yeosang having turned to face you. He wears a somewhat neutral expression, but his eyes are soft, a hint of awe residing within.

You chalk it up to him just being tired.

“You really said you’d serenade me?” Your inquiry is tender, nothing but a sense of wonder pulling at your features as you lean forward to look his way.

Slowly, he releases the chokehold he has on Yunho, nodding lightly all the while.

“That’s honestly so sweet, oh my goodness,” your one hand comes up to cup the side of your face as you tilt your head to the side.

The way Jongho’s eyes begin to shine as he meets you gaze says it all.

A moment later, and your attention is being drawn to the male peering his head over his seat in front of you.

“You like anime, right?” Mingi has an eager look on his face, arms crossed over the back of his seat as he rests his chin on top of them.

“I do indeed!” You reply, an excited gleam sparking in your gaze.

“Uh-oh,” Hongjoong says. “This is going to take a while.”

“Shut up,” Mingi frowns, turning his suddenly harsh gaze towards Hongjoong for a moment before turning back to you with an eager grin. “Which one’s your favourite?”

“Definitely Jujutsu Kaisen, but Naruto will always hold a special place in my heart since I’ve loved it since childhood.” You reply. “Haikyuu will also forever be my comfort series.”

You see him nodding along to your every word.

“What about you?” You reply, blinking lightly up at him.

“I really love Demon Slayer,” he replies, a giddiness to his tone.

“Oh yeah, the animation for that series is beautiful,” you nod along to his words. “I also remember when Atiny’s went feral for your Rengoku hair. Now, that was a look.”

You swear the male nearly tumbles out of his seat as his lips part in awe. A subtle blush begins to tint his ears, as he smiles bashfully in your direction.

“Thank you,” his voice is soft. That is, until his sharp gaze is locking on the male sitting beside you. “Hey, Yeosang-“

Pointedly, the male turns away from you, pretending to be asleep.

“I don’t think any of us are going to get him to move any time soon,” Hongjoong chuckles. “Anyways, sorry for bothering you.”

“Not at all!” You shake your head, a kind smile tugging at your features. “Honestly, this has made my entire week.”

“Likewise,” Jongho breathes, and you turn your smile towards him.

“Oh, wait,” you lean forward, pulling out your backpack and riffling through it in the next minute. Once you have what you’re looking for in hand, your eyes are lighting up, pulling the item out of your bag quickly. “The translation isn’t due to drop for another month, but they sent me some early copies. I’d like you to have this one.”

Carefully, you reach over a somewhat asleep Yeosang to hand Jongho the book in your hands. You can see his own shaking as he grabs the novel from you, a look of complete awe on his features.

“Thank you,” he meets your gaze. “I’ve been waiting for this one to drop since you announced it. It’s why I bought the English version.”

“I do that, too, with a bunch of my manga. I think I have at least four copies of volume four of Jujutsu Kaisen just for the one panel alone.” You chuckle.

“Not the cover?” Mingi quirks a brow.

“Oh, god no.” Your face scrunches in distaste. “Kakashi two-point-oh is most definitely not a character I like. I’ll stick with the original, thank you very much.”

From beside you, you notice Yeosang’s shoulders start to shake with mild laughter.

“Anyways,” you chuckle. “That’s a topic for another day.”

The way you see Mingi visibly pout as he sinks back into his seat has the corner of your lips quirking upwards. A second later, and you’re turning your attention back to Jongho on your left.

“I hope you enjoy the book, it’s definitely darker than some of the other ones I’ve written.” You comment.

At this, you notice Hongjoong’s brow quirk. “Darker, you say?”

“Twisted, if you will.” You shrug a shoulder casually.

“Hey, Jongho, once you’re finished with that, let me borrow it.” Hongjoong turns to the aforementioned male who already seems to have begun reading your book.

Jongho’s eyes flash, protectively hugging the novel to his chest. “Get your own.”

The two males begin bickering over your book, and you notice how the other members have all settled back into their seats. You decide to get comfortable in your own, leaving the conversation at that for now as you put in your headphones. A moment later, and you’re putting on one of your softer playlists to help you fall asleep. It works, too, for in no time at all, you’re succumbing to the realm of dreams.

Of course, it doesn’t last too long, for the flight attendants come around offering drinks shortly after. The meals are served following that, and then finally, you’re able to sink back into the comfort of sleep once more.

A few hours later, you wake to more hushed whispers coming from your left. It sounds as if Jongho is attempting to convince Yeosang to switch seats with him once more, much to the elder’s annoyance.

“I said, ‘no’,” Yeosang grumbles, his arms crossed over his chest.

“But I want to ask her about her new novel,” Jongho whines.

“Ask her some other time,” Yeosang huffs out a breath. “She’s sleeping.”

Jongho leaves it at that, but when you crack open your eyes to assess the situation, you notice he’s already almost halfway through the book you’ve given him. A large pout rests on his features as he pointedly flips back to the page he had last been on, continuing to read without another word.

After about another hour where you fall in and out of sleep, you decide that you’re too restless for the moment to succumb to the land of dreams. Adjusting yourself in your seat, you make sure not to disturb the resting male beside you. Leaning forward, you shuffle a few things around as you grab a notebook and a pen from your bag.

Might as well get a little bit of writing done.

The lighting inside the plane is low, but you’ll make do. The last thing you want is to disturb the people around you, and besides, it’s not like you can’t see anything. It’s no different than all of those nights you used to spend when you were younger sitting in the dark staring at your laptop’s screen as you wrote until the first glimpses of the sun’s rays peeked through your windows.

Turning to a blank page, you let out a small sigh through your nose.

Now, where to begin?

Quirking a brow, you smirk to yourself, putting the pen to paper.

Before you know it, two hours have passed and you’ve written a fair amount for the opening of your new book. Sitting upright reveals just how stiff your neck has gotten, bringing a hand up to gently begin massaging at the muscles as you stretch it out lightly. A moment later, and a few satisfying pops can be heard as you crack it, and subsequently, your back.

The way you notice Yeosang spare a look at you out of the corner of his eyes has you smiling sheepishly. “Sorry.”

You begin to close your notebook before a final idea strikes you, scribbling the little note to yourself for later. Once done, you tuck it away, pulling out your laptop shortly after.

A brief silence settles over you as you place your laptop onto the little tray you’re using. That is, until a soft voice from beside you draws your attention.

“You have nice handwriting.”

Your entire body freezes, turning to blink at the male in shock.

“Do you always write everything out before typing it?” Yeosang meets your gaze, a mild curiosity lingering in his tone.

Slowly, you shake your head. “Not usually. I just prefer writing things out like this when I’m in public. I always feel like my screen is a giant ‘Look Here’ sign when I use my laptop. That, and you were sleeping. I didn’t want to disturb you with the light.”

“I thought I was ‘just some guy’ to you?” He quirks a brow, completely misinterpreting your words for the moment.

“You are.” You confirm. “I would extend the same curtesy towards anyone.”

“But not right now?” He quirks a brow, eyes briefly darting down to the way you open your laptop.

“You’re awake now, and I think I’ve earned myself a few episodes of Jujutsu Kaisen after actually getting some writing done.” You say. “Besides, my hand hurts from gripping the pen so tightly.”

“Oh?” The corner of his lips twitches upwards as he notices you stretching your writing hand out by curling and uncurling your fingers periodically.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Jongho nearly at the end of your book. His body is angled towards you, gaze flitting above the top of the pages every so often to check if you’ll notice him or not. At the way you smile tenderly his way, he’s quick to hide his face behind the pages once more.

“It’s a bad habit I have,” you shrug, setting up your screen with the first episode. “It’s one of the reasons I prefer typing. That, and both spellcheck, and the fact that I can type faster than I can handwrite.”

“I see.” He hums.

You blink, a subtle heat rising to your cheeks. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“Not at all.” He smiles politely. “I asked, anyways. Think of it as the mere curiosities of a stranger.”

“Well then, stranger,” you grin slightly, a playful gleam to your eyes as you properly introduce yourself. “It’s nice to meet you.”

An amused grin tugs at the corner of his lips as he introduces himself to you, following along with your antics for the moment. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

“There,” you nod once, quite firmly at that, too, “Now we’re not strangers.”

“No,” he hums, “I suppose not.”

Turning back to your screen, you are more than content to leave the conversation at that. A moment later, and the familiar sight of the first episode of Jujutsu Kaisen pops up on your laptop, allowing yourself to connect your headphones before pressing play. You get about five minutes into the episode before you begin to feel eyes on you.

Shifting your gaze, you notice Yeosang glancing towards you, and then your screen every few seconds. Carefully, you shift your laptop in his direction so he can see the screen better, and you notice him stiffen slightly in his spot.

You chuckle lightly, silently offering him one of your earbuds.

You don’t even have to look at him to see the way he glances from that small item held in your hand, to your face and back a few times before accepting the offer wordlessly. A press of a few buttons and Korean subtitles appear at the bottom of the screen.

You can see the shock clear on his face as he places the bud in his ear.

“What?” You laugh. “Expecting English?”

He blinks. “Yeah, actually.”

“I think I mentioned my Japanese being better than my Korean,” you hum.

“Your Korean sounds fine to me.” He comments.

A warmth blooms on your cheeks as you divert your gaze to the screen.

“Thank you,” nothing more than a mumble escapes you.

“Why? Do you think you’re not speaking well?” He asks, the anime playing on in the background.

“I used to be friends with a girl who always harped on me for my pronunciation, so it made speaking all the more difficult for me.” You admit softly. “Which is really ironic, when she always complained about people correcting her when she was younger.”

“Harped?” His brow furrows. “How so?”

“She would always make fun of the way I would say stuff,” your nose scrunches in distaste as you recall the memories. “I would learn something new, and the first words out of her mouth would be something like, ‘you really think it’s pronounced like that? You sound like a Koreaboo.’”

His eyebrows raise significantly, “Koreaboo?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, turning your head to meet his gaze only to realize just how close he is to you due to the fact that you’re sharing headphones. A warmth blooms once more on your cheeks. “Ironic, since she wasn’t even Korean to begin with, yet she was correcting my pronunciation.”

“Was she a language teacher?” His brow furrows.

“Not even,” you sigh, shaking your head lightly.

“She sounds like a bitch,” he comments, shifting his gaze to your screen.

You spare a glance at him out of the corner of your eyes. “She was.”

“Well, I think your pronunciation is really good,” he says, somewhat nonchalantly.

You wish you could prevent the way your eyes light up. “Really?”

A soft smile graces his features. “Really.”

“Thank you.” Shyly, you avert your gaze back to your laptop, shifting slightly in your seat.

He smiles kindly at you in response, turning back to the show as well.

About two minutes go by before he’s breaking it again.

“So, how come you have Korean subtitles to a Japanese anime?” He inquires, a hint of curiosity leaking through in his voice.

“Well, back to the language conversation,” you begin, “I had always wanted to learn more than one, but every time I went to study, my mind just wouldn’t retain the information. Except for Japanese. So, originally, I wanted to learn Korean first, but it just wasn’t working out well for me. Another fact she harped on me for: my memory. Anyways, I realized I could remember things better in Japanese, so once I learned that, I learnt Korean from Japanese.”

Yeosang hums, clearly impressed. “I see.”

“It was easier to pick up phrases and stuff with Korean subtitles to my favourite shows, so I made the switch,” you go on to say, tapping the edge of your laptop with your finger lightly. “I still use English subtitles if my brain gets too tired, though.”

“Makes sense,” he nods. “Do you watch dramas?”

“On occasion,” your tone is light, a small hum to your words. “I’m really bad at finishing a series though. I tend to start one, and then not touch it for years before going back to it. I still think I have a few episodes of Goblin left. Which is really ironic considering I referenced the reaper in one of my first published series.”

“You did?” He sounds quite surprised, but curious, nonetheless.

“I did.” You confirm with a chuckle. “I make reference to a lot of things I like in my stories. Music, movies, shows, characters, you name it.”

“What’s the thing you reference the most?” He asks, resting his elbow on the arm of his seat in order to lean his head in his hand.

“Probably The Lord of the Rings,” you chuckle. “I love that series.”

“I don’t think I’ve properly seen it.” He admits.

“Really?” You look at him skeptically. “Forgetting that you’re just some guy for a moment, but you literally have a song called The Ring where you make reference to it in the final lines.”

The somewhat sheepish shrug he gives you makes you laugh.

“Alright, fair enough,” you grin. “If you ever get a chance, you should watch it. The extended editions, though. There’s no other way to properly watch those films in my opinion. You get so much more out of them that way.”

“Oh, really?” He hums, amusement dancing in his eyes as he quirks a brow.

“Literal cinematic masterpieces.” You continue. “There’s so many cool behind the scenes facts and tidbits I could tell you, but I don’t want to subject you to that right now.”

“Why not?” His question clearly catches you by surprise.

“I don’t know if you’d be interested,” you shrug, blinking in the next second. “I do also have the movies saved on my laptop, but again, I won’t subject you to that. They’re long as hell, especially if you’ve never seen them before.”

“Ah, so binging them all at once isn’t a good idea.” He nods in understanding.

“Oh, no, you could totally do that, but it’s like, thirteen hours or so.” You say. “Definitely worth it if you make a day out of it, though, Watching them back to back really immerses you in the story.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, then.” He smiles. “They’re based on books, aren’t they?”

The way your eyes instantly light up does not go unnoticed by him.

“They are!” You reply enthusiastically. “They’re honestly one of my favourite series both in film and on paper, but I wouldn’t go around recommending people the book series.”

“Why’s that?” He inquires, tilting his head slightly in curiosity.

“They’re dry as fuck,” you say, and you notice his eyebrows raising in amusement at your description. “Listen, they’re not for everybody. Even I usually take years to get through the first book when I read the series. It’s a very tedious journey, but if you enjoy fantasy, they’re a key staple to read. In any language. At least, in my opinion.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiles softly, and again, you can feel your whole body heating in embarrassment.

“Sorry, I tend to ramble about the things I really like.” You avert your gaze, fingers suddenly toying with one another in your lap.

“I don’t mind at all.” He’s quick to assure you, eyes crinkling gently in the corners.

A soft smile pulls at your lips as you keep your gaze fixed on your hands for the moment. You can still feel him looking at you for a few seconds longer before he diverts his gaze back to the screen.

The both of you sit in silence for a few minutes as the anime continues to play. By now, the second episode has started, and the corner of your lips quirks upwards as you watch the familiar interactions between the characters. You could probably recite both the original Japanese lines, and the English subtitles by now given how many times you’ve watched it.

A loud gasp from across the aisle draws your attention.

“Holy fuck!” It’s Jongho.

“What? What is it?” The somewhat panicked voice of Hongjoong reaches your ears as you see both him and Seonghwa leaning towards the youngest from the row ahead.

The younger male turns to you, his eyes wide and his lips parted in shock.

“You-“ he blinks, “I-“ he tightens his hold on the now completed book in his hands, “the twist!”

You grin. “I told you it was dark.”

“I just knew it. The way he was acting when he got back to the room was too suspicious.” Jongho mumbles, flipping through some of the pages to quickly reread certain lines. “It was there all along!”

“Some of the best advice I’ve ever gotten about writing is that plot twists shouldn’t catch you suddenly off guard. The best ones are hinted at throughout, and if the reader can pick up on them, you’re doing a good job of laying out the clues.” You chuckle fondly at how eager he listens to you. Even the others look on you in mild awe. “Granted, you don’t want it to be too obvious.”

“It definitely wasn’t,” Jongho shakes his head, as if to reassure you. “It was all paced perfectly.”

“Thank you,” a brilliant, albeit bashful smile takes over your features, and again, you feel Yeosang looking at you out of the corner of his eyes. “I’m glad to hear you liked it.”

“Liked it?” Jongho looks about ready to vibrate out of his seat from his excitement. “I loved it!”

Once more, you thank him lowly, that smile never leaving your features. A warmth blooms in your chest from his words, and the fact that you can see him immediately opening the book back to the first page to begin rereading it has a happiness unlike any other building within. The way Hongjoong starts to pester Jongho about letting him borrow the book has you wiggling your toes to expel some of your giddiness.

You’re just about to offer the leader of Ateez his own copy when a voice from your immediate left draws your attention.

“Who’s your favourite character?” Yeosang blinks once before turning his attention to you from the screen.

“Huh?” You blink back at him, clearly caught off guard by his inquiry. For a moment, you think he’s asking you about your favourite character from your new book.

“Of the show,” he jerks his chin in the direction of your laptop where you see episode two finishing up for the time being.

“Oh,” you tilt your head in acknowledgement, noticing a familiar male peering over the top of the seat in front of you once more. Your cheeks flare with heat. “Probably Sukuna, but Toji is a close second.”

At the way Yeosang quirks his brow at you, you’re quick to continue.

“Look, my taste in fictional men is questionable at best,” you comment, shifting slightly in your seat. “Don’t ask me why I have a thing for the psychopaths, but I do. Bonus points if they have red hair.”

You notice Hongjoong quirk a brow out in your direction of the corner of your eye, only for him to quickly turn to the male sitting to his left. A moment later, and he returns to his previous position, Wooyoung popping his head over the seat to grin smugly in your direction. You simply raise both eyebrows curiously.

“So, you like red hair?” The smug grin Wooyoung wears says it all.

“I enjoy the colour, yes, but it’s not my favourite.” You confirm, noticing how the male wiggles his brows suggestively at you. “The colour suits you very well, yes.”

“Good thing he’s not a psychopath,” Seonghwa mumbles.

“Debatable,” Hongjoong sighs, and you nearly laugh.

“Then, what are your favourite colours?” Yeosang inquires, blinking at you innocently.

“Hair wise?” At the nod you receive, you hum, thinking it over for a moment before answering. “For some reason, I definitely have an affinity towards bleached hair. I love the look of blond locks. Bonus points if it’s long and the roots are starting to grow in slightly. My absolute favourite is lavender, though. As much as I love Taemin’s blond hair, his lavender hair gets me every time. Jeonghan from Seventeen also had really nice lavender locks, and they were long, too. Oh, and special shout out to skunk dyes.”

The way they all stare at you has you immediately shrinking into your seat. Even more so when you see Wooyoung grinning at you like a maniac from a little ways away.

“Sorry, I’m rambling again.” You chuckle nervously. “Here I am talking to literal idols about this stuff when we’re not even friends.”

The boys all share a brief look with one another.

“We could be.” It’s Hongjoong that offers, the others nodding along softly in agreement.

To say his words catch you off guard would be an understatement, and you have just enough time to compose yourself so that you’re no longer staring at him, dumbfounded.

A blink, and a soft smile pulls onto your features. “I’d like that very much.”

A phone is nearly flung at your face, were it not for the way Yeosang quickly catches it midair.

“Jongho, calm down!” Yeosang harshly whispers to the younger beside him, gaze sharp as he shoots a pointed glare towards the male.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Jongho looks absolutely mortified when you turn to look at him.

“It’s alright,” you chuckle. “Honestly, not the worst thing that has been thrown at me before.”

The way they all look at you in confusion at you has shrugging a shoulder casually.

“When I worked at a bookstore on the operations team, I can’t count the amount of things that either got thrown at me by accident, or fell on me.” You say casually. “Books are also much heavier than phones.”

“I would imagine,” Hongjoong chuckles along with you. “Do you have kaotalk?”

“I do,” you nod in confirmation. “Though, we might have to wait until we land to exchange information. No wifi and all.”

“Ah, right,” you see his head tilt in acknowledgement.

A small pout pulls onto Jongho’s features as Yeosang hands the youngest his phone back.

“Then, we’ll exchange information once we land.” Mingi grins widely, practically shaking in excitement in his seat.

“Sounds good to me.” You grin right back, heart racing inside of your chest.

If someone would have told you that you’d not only be on the same flight as Ateez, but befriending them on said flight, you would have told them to stop fantasizing. However, truly being in this situation feels so unreal, even as you watch them all settle back into their seats with smiles on their faces.

“Thanks,” you mumble.

Yeosang quirks a brow.

“For catching that.”

“No problem.” The corner of his lips twitches upwards.

“So,” you shoot a look at him out of the corner of your eyes, noticing how the anime has been continuing to play in the background this whole time. “Who’s your favourite character?”

“In this?” He motions to your screen with a jerk of his chin.

“Yeah.” You nod.

“Don’t know. I’ve never seen it before.” He replies casually, and your eyes nearly bulge right out of your head.

“You’ve never seen it before?” Your voice is full of disbelief as you look towards him once more. At the shake of his head, you’re quick to restart the third episode, muttering to yourself about talking over the show this whole time.

“It’s okay,” Yeosang chuckles. “I’m used to the chaos.”

You quirk a brow. “Are you, now?”

“Yes.” he deadpans, turning his head to shoot you a pained smile with a thumbs up in the next second. “I thrive in it."

You cannot help yourself. A loud, boisterous laugh escapes you, your eyes crinkling in joy. A fact which is only emphasized when Yeosang begins to chuckle along with you, only to steel his face and nod solemnly every time he notices you peering over at him.

The way he grins right along with you as you finally calm yourself down from laughing so hard says it all. Not even the way you can see Jongho flicking his gaze towards you from over his book, a clear pout on his features can pull you out of this moment right now.

For the rest of the plane ride, you either watch more episodes of Jujutsu Kaisen with Yeosang, or talk lowly with him. The conversations are somewhat short, but calm nonetheless. They mainly consist of one of you asking the other a simple question, and going from there. Truly, two strangers just passing the time and enjoying the other’s company, rather than sitting in silence.

At one point, you manage to fall asleep again, only to be woken up by the announcement that the plane is now beginning its decent into Seoul. The way you notice your laptop has gently been closed, your headphone wrapped up and sitting neatly on top of it makes you smile softly.

Stretching as much as you can, you move to put your laptop away. You keep your headphones out, just in case you want to listen to music for the last little bit of your journey. Then, once you’ve settled back into your seat, you turn your head to the side.

Gazing out of the window, nothing but pure excitement shines within your eyes. It’s finally time, and as soon as you land, you feel as if everything will truly fall into place.

You can feel someone’s gaze on you every now and then. You figure it’s either Jongho watching you out of the corner of his eyes like you’ve noticed he likes to do, or Yeosang looking out of the window with you. Thus, you opt to sit back as far in your seat as you can, giving the male the perfect view to observe the ground getting closer and closer with each passing second. He’s probably missed his home more than you could ever imagine.

The moment the plane touches the ground, you cannot help the way your breath hitches in your throat. The small bounce of the wheels hitting the tarmac only serves to solidify to you that this is real. You’ve truly moved to Seoul for a year, and you have many adventures planned already to come. Starting with that award’s show, of course.

Turning your phone back on cellular for the moment, you’re quick to shoot a text to your family letting them know you’ve landed and arrived safely. It’s now early morning for them, so you’re not expecting a message back for at least another few hours. You also need to get a new data plan for the year you’ll be living in Seoul, so you add that to the mental list of things you need to do already forming in your head.

Five minutes later, and you’ve been taxied to the gate, the other passengers beginning to disembark. Honestly, you can’t wait to get off of this plane and stretch your legs. Your few trips to the bathroom did nothing to help. Besides, you can’t wait to get to your place and shower.

Holding your bags in your lap, you watch as Yeosang steps out into the aisle. Only, he pauses, motioning for you to go ahead of him.

“Ladies first.”

You smile politely, thanking him lowly as you step out of the row and begin to disembark the plane. You get about two steps onto the gate when Jongho steps in beside you, as if he was eager to follow you out.

“Holy shit, you are tall.” His awestruck voice reaches your ears.

An amused glance is sent his way out of the corner of your eyes.

“And the most common phrase said by males I meet goes to…” you huff out a laugh, seeing as he continues to scan you from head to toe, noticing how you stand a few inches taller than him.

A red hue begins to creep up his neck and onto the tips of his ears. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

“No, no,” you wave him off with another laugh. “It’s just funny when no one believes you are the height you say you are. Used to happen all the time when I tried dating apps.”

“What do you mean?” Yunho steps in on your other side, and you notice Yeosang walking beside him. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say the shorter male looks slightly irritated. Though, from the way you notice him loop around to begin chasing Jongho, you know that the younger must have done something before exiting the plane.

“Well, where I come from, it’s really common for guys to add their heights to their profile. Which is really funny, when they are usually the ones that lie about it.” You explain, heading towards customs with the crowd from the flight for the moment. “So, I always found it funny when I would tell the people I matched with my height, or when they would ask about it, only to not believe me. Then, whenever we would meet, I would be significantly taller than Jeremy who proclaimed himself to be ‘six-foot three’.”

You see Yunho nod beside you, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Got even more prominent when I started doing signings and people would stand near me.” You comment. “Not to mention the guys that would need to ‘prove’ how tall I was whenever they would bring their books up to be signed. On the other hand, though, it’s really cute to see so many people get flustered by it. Female presenting people and non-binary people especially. Though, I will never forget the fans who always ask me to cosplay Lady Dimitrescu from Resident Evil Eight.”

“You’ve cosplayed Lady Dimitrescu?” Mingi attempts to hide his excitement with a clearing of his throat as he steps into the space once occupied by Jongho.

“I’ve thought about it,” you hum, stepping into the line to get through customs with him, Yunho, Yeosang, and Jongho right behind you. Looks like the others are a little ways ahead already. “Maybe one day I will.”

“I fully support whatever decision you choose to make.” Jongho nods, enthusiastically.

“Just say you want her to step on you and be done with it,” Yeosang sighs, crossing his arms over his chest.

The way the younger lunges for the elder has a laugh escaping you, especially when the two males start bickering and slapping each other’s sides.

“If you want me to step on you that badly, I have one condition,” you joke, stepping up to the front seeing as you’re the next person in line. At the way you seem to now have all four of their undivided attention on you now, you grin, feeling your cheeks beginning to heat. “Suffocate me with your thighs, first.”

Each male doesn’t even have time to respond before you’re being called over to the customs officer, but you definitely catch their stunned reactions. The way you see Jongho nearly fall over, his face turning bright red and looking like he might spontaneously combust has your shoulders shaking in laughter.

The other three aren’t fairing much better. Yeosang’s eyes look about ready to pop out of his head with how wide they’ve gone. Additionally, both Mingi’s and Yunho’s mouths part, subtle blushes of their own creeping to their cheeks before the eldest is clearing his throat. They don’t have much time to dwell on your comment, for they each get called up to their own customs officer to get through to baggage claim soon after.

Getting through customs doesn’t take too long, and before you know it, you’re standing in front of the terminal waiting for your bags to come through. You didn’t necessarily spot any of the other guys, but you haven’t really been looking out for them, either. That is, until you see a blur of red approaching you from the side.

Wooyoung hops right up beside you, stopping short as a look of complete shock crosses his features. “Woah.”

Sparing a glance out of the corner of your eyes, you notice his gaze scan your figure. He begins looking around the ground at your feet, as if to spot whatever it is you must be standing on to make you that much taller than he is. Once he finds none, his awestruck gaze is back on your face.

“Wooyoung, I thought I told you to wait for us,” Hongjoong’s exasperated voice reaches your ears.

Turning your head, you see all of the guys now walking towards you, a few of their staff in tow.

“I’m so sorry, has he been pestering you?” A male, whom you’re assuming is their manager, addresses you.

“Not at all,” you shake your head, a slight grin tugging at your features. “I think I might have broken him, though.”

At your words, all heads turn towards a stunned Wooyoung, his mouth gaping like a fish. He blinks a few times, a dopey grin tugging onto his features soon after as his face begins to turn as red as his hair.

“Wooyo, are you okay?” It’s San who asks, coming up to stand beside the male still blinking at you.

A second later and Wooyoung starts giggling like a maniac, “tall lady. Pretty, tall lady. Pretty and tall lady.”

“Okay, I think someone needs more sleep.” Yunho gently guides the muttering male away from you with the help of San.

“Sorry about him,” Hongjoong chuckles, stepping in beside you.

You notice Yeosang standing on your opposite side, not saying a word. Though, you can feel the way he glances towards you out of the corner of his eyes every now and then.

The terminal begins moving, signifying the start of baggage claim for your flight.

“Anyways, should we exchange Kaotalk’s now?” Hongjoong asks, his phone already held in his hand.

“Sure!” You reply, shifting to grab your phone out of your pocket. A few moments later and you’re holding your screen to him with your Kaotalk code on full display. “Here you go.”

The way his eyes light up has you smiling, and you notice the others all pulling out their own phones to add you as well.

“Feel free to message me anytime,” you smile, already feeling your phone vibrate in your hand with a new message.

However, before you can even check who has messaged you, a voice from your left catches your attention.

“Don’t forget about me.” Yeosang blinks up at you as you turn to face him.

You smile softly. “I could never forget about you.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you’ve just made him blush. The way he averts his gaze, focussing so intently on your phone to make sure he’s added you correctly only confirms your suspicion.

A piece of luggage on the conveyor belt catches your eye. Just as you move to place your phone into your back pocket and grab your bag, you notice Yeosang stop you.

“Which one is it?” He takes a few steps towards the terminal, not even waiting for you to respond.

“The silver one, but I can grab it-“ by the time the words have left your lips, he’s already hoisted your bag from the belt and placed it gently beside you. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

He smiles lightly. “I wanted to.”

You smile back. “I appreciate it.”

“Do you have any more?” He asks, eyes already scanning the moving luggage for similar ones to the bag he’s already grabbed for you.

“I have three, but I don’t expect you to-“

“Is this another?” He points to a larger silver hardshell case coming your way.

“Yes, but-“ again, before you can tell him not to worry about it, he’s lifting your luggage off of the conveyor and placing it gently beside your other one.

“Are the other two the same?” He asks, shifting his gaze towards you from over his shoulder.

“Same style, but red.” You blink, figuring you’re fighting a losing battle at this point if you keep telling him not to worry about it.

“Believe me, if I didn’t help you first, Jongho would have leapt across the room and done it himself,” Yeosang comments, pulling the first of your red bags off of the line for you.

The moment he wheels it over to you, you double check all of the labels, making sure these are indeed your bags.

“What about your bags?” You ask, noticing how he lifts your final bag off of the line in the next second.

“The staff usually handles them.” He shrugs, helping you wheel your bags over to a cart to help you start loading them onto it.

“Ah, so you wanted something to do.” You nod your understanding.

“Had to make sure all my muscles still work after a long flight like that.” He deadpans, the subtlest of quirks to his lips.

“Are you sure you didn’t just want to show off?” You quirk a brow teasingly.

“Depends,” he hums, shooting you a look out of the corner of his eyes as you both head towards the exit. “Were you impressed?”

You laugh, fake swooning in the next second. “My hero.”

Yeosang quirks a grin in response. “Fine then. Your bags were super heavy to lift, and I demand compensation.”

“I never forced you to lift them!” Your mouth falls open, a scandalized look crossing your features.

“I could have lifted them for you.” Jongho cuts in, seeing as they’ve all now caught up to you for the moment. “I would have been more than happy to.”

You chuckle, but you cannot help the way that you notice Yeosang fall silent as the younger inserts himself in between the both of you.

“It’s quite alright,” you smile softly. “Yeosang helped me just fine.”

“Do you have a ride to your accommodation?” It’s Seonghwa who asks, blinking at you with wide eyes.

“I do, thank you.” You nod. “My publisher sent some people to pick me up.”

You see a few of them nod back in understanding just as you reach the exit gate.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye for now.” Hongjoong turns to face you, stopping just off to the side to ensure they’re not blocking anyone’s path.

“You guys be careful out there,” you say, looking over all of them briefly. “I’ve seen some wild videos of how certain people can act towards all of you at the airport.”

“You, too.” Mingi sends a firm nod in your direction.

“Well, hopefully we’ll see you around!” Wooyoung grins, practically vibrating in his spot in excitement.

“Not to be ominous, but I have a feeling you will.” You smile knowingly. “Like I said, feel free to message me any time. Keep in touch if you can, and don’t be strangers.”

“We will,” Hongjoong smiles back, the corner of his own lips quirking knowingly as Jongho begins to pout beside him.

“I’ll see you guys around,” with a final wave, you’re grabbing your two luggage carts and steering them out of the exit.

You don’t even have to turn around to know that they follow you out a moment later. Given the way half of the crowd begins to bustle, practically swarming the opposite ramp as Ateez exits the terminal, you have a definitive answer. However, what you don’t expect is for a few people to be there for you.

“Miss, would you be willing to sign this for me? And could I possibly get a picture, too?” A girl asks, holding a copy of your first published book out to you.

“Of course,” you grin, having already given your luggage to the people you were supposed to be meeting at the airport that your publisher sent. Once you take the book and pen from her hands, you turn to face her. “Who should I make it out to?”

You’re so caught up in your own little world, completely awestruck by the fact that a small crowd had come to greet you at the airport, that you completely miss the feeling of eyes glancing back at you from across the way.

The last thing Yeosang sees before being ushered out to a waiting car is you signing some books and taking pictures with a few fans, a radiant smile lighting up your face.

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