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dirtyvulture · 2 months ago

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The Maid

Socialite!Wanda Maximoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

Maid!Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 4663

Summary: You are married to a wealthy socialite, but your newly hired housemaid doesn’t approve of the marriage.

AN: I was reading a book series and got this idea. Enjoy!

*Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” you say, poking at the sad bowl of cereal before you.

“Why not?” Your wife frowns at you from across the kitchen.

“Because we’re doing fine! We don’t need any extra help,” you emphasize.

“You’re not the one stuck at home all day cleaning the house and cooking all the meals,” she snaps. Your eyes shift to the bowl of cereal you’d had to make yourself because she was too busy at her pilates class to cook you anything more substantial.

“This house is huge compared to our old one,” your wife continues. “And if you’re not going to help me around here, I’m going to hire someone who will.” Annoyance burns in your chest because you run your own company full-time, and your wife inherited all her wealth from her parents and hadn’t worked a real job in her entire life. “Besides, Steve’s the one who recommended her and he said she’s been really helpful to his family.”

“You seem to spend a lot of time talking to Steve,” you note, although you feel guilty for calling out your neighbor across the street. You’d spoken to him a few times and he seemed like a decent guy, but you weren’t stupid enough to not notice how often your wife would find her way over to his lawn multiple times a week.

“You’re at work all day and don’t answer your phone half the time,” she says. “You don’t expect me to stay in this gigantic house all by myself doing chores, do you? I’m not a house servant, Y/N.”

“No, of course you’re not,” you apologize. You glance at the Omega watch that had been an engagement gift from your wife. “Hey, I have to get going to work now.” Dutifully, you bring your bowl over to the sink and stop to kiss your wife on the way there. “I’ll see you later, honey.”

“Remember, the pool guy is coming at noon so you need to be back before then,” she says. “I don’t want to be left by myself with him.”

“Okay, I’ll try.” You’re not sure why she’s so nervous around the pool technician; he was about 30 years older than the both of you and had been very sweet and professional when he came to give you a quote for the maintenance.

“No, don’t try. Do it,” she insists.

You try to hold in your sigh. “Yes, dear.”

***********************************************************************

Natasha curses to herself as she drags her vacuum cleaner and basket of cleaning supplies up the sidewalk to your home. Your wife–Mrs. L/N, as she had asked Natasha to call her, while you had no problem being on a first name basis with her–had told Natasha she didn’t want her parking in front of your house, requiring her to park around the corner. Which wouldn’t have been a significant issue except it meant Natasha had to lug everything to your house every time she stopped by.

“Do you need any help, Nat?” Steve Rogers, the friendly neighbor whom she also worked for, waved at her from across the street.

“No, no, I’m fine!” she squeaks, not wanting to bother him. But Steve, ever the gentleman, runs over anyway and she has no choice but to turn over her supplies to him.

“You know, you can always just park in front of my house,” he offers, bundling the items in his muscular arms.

“That’s okay,” Natasha says. “Mrs. L/N made it very clear that as much as she needs my help, she doesn’t want people to know I’m here.”

Steve doesn’t argue with her and walks her to your front door. “Well, if you ever need anything–”

“Natasha! You’re late!” The front door swings open and Natasha finds herself face-to-face with your wife. “Oh, hello, Steven.” She flips her hair over her shoulder and bats her eyelashes at him. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I was just helping Natasha with her things,” Steve explains.

“Oh, don’t worry about her. She can handle herself. Right, Natasha?” She turns a judgmental eye on Natasha.

“I appreciate the help, Steve,” is all Natasha says.

“You’re welcome. See you both later!” He quickly jogs back to his home.

Mrs. L/N ushers Natasha into the house. “I left a grocery list on the kitchen counter for you. If you can’t find something, please call me before you pick any substitutions,” she instructs briskly. “I have to go out to the HOA meeting, but Y/N should be home by noon before the pool man comes. Do not let him into the yard if Y/N or me are not home yet, understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Natasha nods her head, fighting the urge not to roll her eyes at this lady.

“Good.” She leaves towards the garage and Natasha can hear the purr of her Mercedes starting up.

It was Natasha’s second week working for your family, and she hated nearly every second of it–mostly because of your spoiled, bratty wife. But the few times Natasha had met you, she thought you were as kind and charming as could be (and very nice to look at). She wondered how the two of you had gotten together in the first place and what you saw in your wife. She was one of the bossiest clients Natasha had ever had, and Natasha had seen her be not much nicer to you. Plus, she was definitely hitting on Steve, but Natasha knows he wouldn’t cheat on his wife with yours.

She dumps her supplies in the foyer, then goes into the kitchen to find the grocery list. It only takes a single glance to know that your wife is totally fucking with her–what the hell is a rambutan? Natasha sighs loudly, wishing there were someone around to hear her distress. As much as she wants to quit working for your family, she needs the money. And she was still so new to the business, she couldn’t afford to make any bad impressions.

With another sigh, she balls the grocery list into her fist and heads back out.

***********************************************************************

Natasha returns from her grocery trip just in time to see you pull into the garage in your bright green luxury sports car she doesn’t even recognize the manufacturer’s logo of. You get out and wave to her and she smiles back, almost forgetting the awful phone call she had to make to your wife when she searched the entire store and still couldn’t locate the rambutans (she ended up having to make a separate trip to Whole Foods for them).

“Hi, Natasha!” you say, running down the driveway to help her with the grocery bags.

“Oh, don’t worry about these,” Natasha says, trying to swat your hands away. “It’s my job to take them into the house–”

“No, let me help,” you insist, scooping up four bags in one hand in one go. “Oh! Rambutans. These are my favorite. Thank you for finding them.”

Instantly, Natasha wants to take back all the curses she had put on the spiky red fruit. “It was nothing,” she lies, making a mental note to buy out the store’s entire stock for you the next time she goes.

With your help, it takes half the amount of time to get all the groceries in the house. You also insist on helping her put everything away, showing her the proper drawers in the fridge for the fruit and vegetables versus the meat, and where the cereals went in the pantry. Natasha is beyond grateful for you; she knows your wife would have happily stood there and watched her struggle, then loudly criticized her for not knowing better.

“Thank you, Y/N,” she says, her hand inadvertently brushing yours when you pass her the last bag of apples. She withdraws from you almost too quickly, her skin hot where you touched her, but you don’t seem to notice, distracted by the ringing of the doorbell.

“That must be Stan.” You dash off to meet the pool man.

Natasha fills the dishwasher as much as she can and starts in, then goes to finish washing the oddly-shaped pots and pans that didn’t fit in the sink. The kitchen window looks out to your yard that is probably bigger than the footprint of her entire apartment complex. The pool has two different levels, but both are filled with a suspicious green water. You’re standing poolside talking to Stan, an older gentleman whom Natasha personally knew to be very kind from her few interactions with him when he conducted work on the neighborhood pool’s.

She’s so busy looking at you, fantasizing about a life where this big house could be hers, with a doting partner who would take care of her and raise a family with her, she doesn’t hear the front door opening until she hears the unholy screech from your wife.

“Natasha, what are you doing?” she yells, hurrying over and snatching the soapy sponge right out of Natasha’s gloved hand.

“Um–the dishes? They didn’t all fit in the dishwasher–”

“You turned on the dishwasher?” Her eyes grow wide and her mouth drops like Natasha’s just confessed to a murder. “Didn’t I tell you we don’t run the dishwasher before seven p.m.?” Natasha is certain she’s never heard this instruction before in her life and watches as she rushes over to turn off the dishwasher mid-cycle and throw it open. “Also, you didn’t pack this correctly, you definitely could’ve fit those pots in here.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll rearrange it now,” Natasha says, trying not to get flustered. Surely your wife wouldn’t fire her over such a minor transgression, would she?

“Is Stan here yet?” she asks, but before Natasha can answer, she is interrupted by a shout and a splash. Both of them crane their necks to look out the window, where they can see Stan floating facedown in the pool. You’re kicking your shoes off and throwing your phone onto the lawn before you run up to the pool’s edge and dive in with a form that would rival an Olympic swimmer’s. Your wife screams and darts towards the back door, Natasha following right behind her.

“Y/N! What are you doing?”

“He fell in!” you answer, coughing out water as you loop your arms under the elderly man and kick back towards the stairs. “He just zoned out when he was talking to me and suddenly tipped over into the pool. I think he’s having a seizure.”

“I’ll call 911!” Natasha offers, not wanting to be as useless as your wife. She struggles to get her phone out of her pocket and punches in the number with shaky fingers.

Your wife hovers by the pool stairs, making no move to assist you as you struggle to drag the old man out, clearly weighed down by the water drenching both of your clothes. Stan is holding himself in a position so stiff it reminds Natasha of a mannequin.

“Ugh, don’t get me wet, Y/N!” your wife complains as the brackish water sprays everywhere.

“I’m trying not to!” you snap, gently laying Stan on the grass.

“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” a dispatcher picks up.

“Hello? Yes, I’m at 2800 Sherwood Drive. There’s a man here who fell into the pool and we just got him out, but he’s having some kind of medical episode,” Natasha says, putting her phone on speaker. The dispatcher asks if he’s breathing and you confirm.

“Can roll him to his side and stabilize his head?”

Without hesitation, you peel off your shirt and roll it into a soggy ball, gently tucking it under the man’s head like a makeshift pillow. Natasha tries not to stare at your nicely sculpted torso, highlighted further by the water droplets on your skin, but her face burns in shame when she sees your wife glaring at her ogling.

“Okay, his head is stabilized!” you call out.

“Perfect, emergency services are two minutes away.”

“Thank you.”

It’s a big scene at the house by the time the ambulance pulls up. Your wife eventually covers you up with a towel, but you’re insistent on waiting outside for Stan to be carefully loaded into the ambulance before you finally allow your wife to usher you back into the house, still dripping water everywhere.

“Thank you for the help today, Natasha,” you say, reaching out to give her shoulder a gentle pat as you walk by her towards the house. Natasha doesn’t even know how to respond but nods furiously and mumbles that “she didn’t help much.”

“You can go now, Natasha,” your wife says curtly, and Natasha doesn’t question her and practically flees the premise.

***********************************************************************

It’s been a few weeks since the pool incident and Natasha is barely able to hold onto her sanity with the never-ending list of ridiculous tasks from your wife. When she holds a fundraiser meeting for a charity Natasha is sure she made up on her own, she calls on Natasha as her personal servant, forcing her to serve a collection of the snobbiest women in the neighborhood. Maybe I should take up meditation, Natasha thinks to herself as she prepares a third pitcher of iced tea because the first two “did not have the right balance of sugar to tea,” according to your wife, despite that Natasha had put in exactly one-third cup of sugar as requested.

Natasha doesn’t see you much around the house anymore, and she wonders if your wife purposely scheduled her around your work hours, or told you to stay away from her. She wants to ask you if there were any updates about Stan’s condition (there was no way she was going to get that information from your wife). She missed hearing your voice and seeing your smile…wait.

She shakes her head–she shouldn’t be thinking about you like that. You’re her employer and you’re married (to a bitch). It would be entirely inappropriate and dangerous to pursue you, so she would just have to make do with ogling you from afar. Besides, a lot of her clients did not show her respect, likely due to the nature of her job, so just because you were courteous and respectful towards her, didn’t mean you felt a specific way about her.

“You know, Y/N used to be fat.” Natasha startles when your wife walks up behind her. She almost drops the picture frame she’d been dusting of the two of you on a beach, holding hands as you walked towards the sunset in the background.

“Excuse me?” Natasha asks.

“Fat and poor,” Mrs. L/N adds, much to Natasha’s horror.

“That’s an awful thing to say about your partner,” Natasha says.

She shrugs. “I don’t want anything to be sugarcoated for you. All of this–” She gestures around to the grandiose-ness of the house, and points to a more recent photo of you, where you’re carrying your wife in your arms, the bulge of your biceps and wideness of your shoulders stretching out your shirt. “–was not a thing when we first started dating. I was there when Y/N had nothing and was no one.”

“Okay.” Natasha wonders why she’s acting like she did you a favor, when you are clearly the catch in the relationship. But then it suddenly dawns on her the reason she’s saying this is because she knows Natasha might have a small crush on you.

“Y/N would never leave me, because I was there from the beginning,” Mrs. L/N says loftily.

“Of course,” Natasha says, fearing she has made a terrible mistake. “Y/N must be very lucky to have you.”

“You have no idea,” your wife smirks. “So let me be a reminder to keep things professional in my house. I’d hate for you to lose your job here. As far as I know, this is the only neighborhood that employs you, and your reputation is everything, isn’t it? One bad review could spoil the whole bunch, and you’d be off having to peddle your services elsewhere.” Icy fear pits at the bottom of Natasha’s stomach. “That is, if the police don’t pick you up first.”

“What are you talking about?” Natasha whispers, even though she knows exactly what Mrs. L/N is talking about. She had been foolish to assume her past would never follow her, but how could your wife have found out? Clint had assured her that with a new name and a new location, she’d be untraceable.

“Because they’d have to arrest you from stealing Y/N away from me,” Mrs. L/N laughs shrilly. Natasha chuckles nervously, although she was certain adultery was not a punishable offense in the state. “But I’m just joking. That would never happen, right?”

“Never,” Natasha promises, hoping her cover will stay hidden for now.

“Good.”

***********************************************************************

“How was your day at work, honey?”

“Busy,” you grunt, moodily poking at the chicken pot pie Natasha had made before she went home. The food tastes good–it’s better than anything your wife has ever cooked, you think privately, but you don’t have much of an appetite. The end of the financial quarter was rapidly approaching and it had become extremely apparent to you that the profits of your company were not outweighing the expenses for the third quarter in a row. You were digging yourself a bigger and bigger grave, dipping into your personal investments to pay your way out of debt. It was the most stressful period of your life, with no relief in sight, and your wife wouldn’t understand the pressure.

“Sorry to hear that,” she says, although her words don’t come across as very genuine. “My day wasn’t so great either. I got into an argument earlier with Mrs. Harkness at the HOA meeting.” Your wife clicks her tongue. “Some of these women will go to war over their lawn decorations, I swear.”

A jab bubbles on the tip of your tongue; was she really trying to compare an HOA meeting to your very real, very stressful job running a business? But you stay quiet, shoveling another spoonful of pot pie into your mouth.

“Where’s Natasha?” you ask. Usually she stayed around for dinner (not that your wife would let her sit at the same table as you), but you hadn’t seen her in the house for a while.

“I ran out of time today, so I sent her out to grab some things for tomorrow,” she answers. When Natasha had first been hired, you had been under the impression that she was exclusively a housekeeper, helping with all the household chores your wife couldn’t complete. But you had heard about her running grocery trips and waiting on your wife and her friends during meetings, turning Natasha into more of a personal assistant than anything. You hoped she was okay with that; you knew how demanding your wife could be sometimes.

“Oh, okay.” You finish your helping of pot pie in silence, then go to place your plate in the dishwasher, before going into the bedroom to retire for the night. As you’re washing your face in the sink, you hear your wife pad up behind her.

“Sorry you’ve been really stressed lately,” she says, rubbing her hand up and down your arm.

“It’s not your fault,” you respond, drying your face on a towel, going back into the bedroom to find your pajamas so you can take a shower.

“Y/N.” Your wife stops you as you’re searching through the dresser for your pajamas. When you look at her, she’s eyeing you with her bottom lip between her teeth. She struts towards you, slowly sinking to her knees and looking up at you. “Maybe I can do something to make you feel better?”

With you being so busy with work and her busy with the new move, the two of you hardly had time for each other. Plus, your wife tended to be on the particular side and never seemed to be in the mood if you initiated. It was a little frustrating sometimes, but you found ways to cope and besides, it did make the times she was ready for you all the more enjoyable.

She pulls down your pants, palming at your boxers and causing you to groan. You unbutton your shirt as you feel your body start to heat up and let it slide off your shoulders.

“Fuck, don’t tease me,” you grunt when she leans forward and nibbles on the exposed flesh of your thigh.

“You need to savor the moment,” she says, although you can tell she’s just as impatient when she hooks her fingers into the waistband of your boxers and draws them down to the floor. Your heavy cock bobs out, slapping against your abs before your wife grabs onto it and brings it to her mouth.

“Fuck, baby,” you moan, tipping your head back when you feel her lips wrap around your cock. You wrap your hand in her hair, pumping your hips forward to sink your length into the heat of her throat. She grips onto your thighs to steady herself, the faintest of choking noise escaping her. You grunt in satisfaction, thrusting a little harder until the tip of your cock bumps the back of her throat. She whines louder, but doesn’t pull away, and your knees are practically shaking at the sight of her deepthroating all of you.

“You’re doing so well,” you praise and her cheeks flush red. “Are you gonna let me finish in your mouth?” you ask, and she nods in response, the movement causing a burst of pre-cum to leak out of your cock. You stroke a stray hair out of her face so you can look into her eyes when you finish. “That’s my good girl.”

***********************************************************************

Natasha lets herself into your home, juggling three heavy bags that she’s pretty sure are cutting off the circulation to her fingers. She passes by the kitchen, confused to see it empty; when she had left the two of you were just settling down to eat. She puts the bags by the foot of the table, recalling the time Mrs. L/N had screamed at her for putting “dirty outside bags” on the place where you ate. She wouldn’t make that same mistake again.

Checking her phone, Natasha sees that your wife had sent her a text less than five minutes ago.

Natasha sighs. It had already been a long day, but she wasn’t given an ounce of leeway. She knows better than to walk away from an unfinished task (especially around your wife), so she trudges up the stairs and turns into the guest room. Hopefully her presence can go unnoticed, and your wife will magically find the folded clothes long after Natasha is gone.

There are a total of three shirts and a pair of jeans left to fold. Natasha knows it would be too much to ask your wife to do on her own. She grits her teeth and folds the clothes, taking the better part of a minute, then looks around and realizes she doesn’t remember where she put the laundry basket.

Maybe she had already brought it to the master bedroom, but she knew she couldn’t just leave it on the guest bed, or your wife would probably fire her. Natasha gathers up the clothes and walks down the hall to the master bedroom, but freezes in her tracks when she hears noises coming out of the bedroom.

Moaning noises, specifically.

Natasha can’t stop herself as she moves closer to the door, positioning herself to peer through the crack in between the door and the wall. She sees your wife on her knees, her head bobbing against your waist as you stand there, half-naked, moaning and thrusting your hips forward.

Natasha feels like she can’t breathe, totally shocked and embarrassed to have caught the two of you in a moment. She has a strange sense that your wife had set her up like this on purpose, but the thought quickly dissipates as she finds herself moving closer to the door.

“That’s my good girl.”

Natasha’s stomach flips when she hears you say this, even though it isn’t directed to her. But maybe one day it could be.

She’s practically pressed up against the door, the fear of being caught burning away in her eagerness to keep watching you. The way the muscles in your stomach and thighs flex as your hips roll in a sinful rhythm. Natasha is almost ashamed at how fast she feels the arousal building in her own stomach.

You grunt louder and slow down as you seem to near release. Natasha can’t help but wonder what you must taste like and if she could even fit you down her throat. Your wife seems to be struggling with your size, but Natasha would do everything in her power to make you happy and not let any drop go to waste.

Without warning, your wife removes you from her mouth. Both you and Natasha gasp–you probably in frustration, and Natasha because she’s shocked at how big you are. Your cock is shiny with saliva and pre-cum and is so hard it looks like it’s about to burst.

“I didn’t finish,” you whine as your wife stands up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She puts her hand on your chest and pushes you back until you stumble onto the bed.

“I know. But I don’t want you to finish in my mouth, I want you to finish inside me.”

“Oh.” Your wife takes off her pants and climbs onto you.

Natasha knows how wrong it is for her to stand there and continue watching. She should’ve left a long time ago. But somehow, she knows your wife set her up to see this, and instead of running away in shame, Natasha is totally absorbed and her obsession with you only skyrockets.

The headboard creaks against the wall as your wife rides you, both of you moaning in unison. Natasha’s eyes are stuck on you, trying to memorize your body’s reactions and wondering if she’d ever be the cause of them one day. You tilt your head back into the pillows, your back arching off the mattress, your hands wrapped around your wife’s waist as you thrust up into her.

“I’m ready. I’m gonna cum,” you announce breathlessly.

Natasha hopes you’ll say those words to her one day. But she turns away as you finish, scolding herself for her unprofessional and frankly creepy behavior. She drops the folded clothes to the floor, knowing your wife will eventually find them and know of their origin. Maybe she’ll get fired for this; if anything, it’d be for the better. She doesn’t trust herself to be around you anymore–not that she’d ever be so bold as to make a move and disrespect your marriage, but she’d never be able to look at you the same way again.

She quickly pads down the stairs and leaves the house, the emptiness in her heart and core almost reaching a painful point.

***********************************************************************

You jerk your hips up a final time as you cum, dropping back onto the bed exhausted and spent.

“Hmm, that was fun,” your wife pants against your neck, and you wrap your arm around her tightly, pulling her closer to your body.

“We can shower together?” you suggest, digging your fingers teasingly into her naked hips.

“Sure. Give me a minute.” She lays her head on your chest.

Despite your differences, you were truly happy to have this woman by your side through it all. She had been your longest supporter and that had meant everything to you when no one else believed in you.

You kiss her forehead softly. “I love you, Wanda.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Actually screaming and crying. Nat please come save us 😭

Click here for Part 2!

@holiday-house-of-m I finally kept my promise to you after 84 years.

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader

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arahir · 1 month ago

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Real talk..do you have any real advice on how to make friends as an almost 30 year old woman…

three easy (coughcough) steps: 1) pick an activity 2) commit to the horror of being known 3) know when you're vibing and know when to pack it up.

pick an activity. mine are gardening, hiking, reading, writing, geology, and chickens, and i've made and kept friends through each of those. make your own list of things you want to do, and want to meet other people who do. you can do it in a structured setting, which i recommend. most cities have clubs, activities, and people who are trying to organize. my city has... regular volunteer clean ups along the river, organized hikes, a few very nice community colleges where you can take random classes, gardening events, silent book clubs, a discord for lonely 30 year olds, etc. likewise, you can meet people online through these activities. writing has got me a lot of great friends! having these activities is also important because it will let you keep the friends you start to make by giving you built in places to show up together.

commit to the horror of being known. i don't know how else to put this. it will be embarrassing. you will say stuff and you will go "why the fuck did i say that?" and they will say stuff and you'll think the same thing. this is, unfortunately, how it works. you have to be a fucking idiot at times, and it's fine, because no one wants to be friends with someone who takes themself too seriously. be embarrassingly into whatever you're into. and then when you meet someone you think could eventually be a friend, you have to put a feeler out there. my favorites are "hey have you been to X on Y? i really want to check it out." "have you seen X and do you want to see it?" "we should grab coffee!" it works a surprising amount of the time. all you really need to make a friend is one good conversation and one person throwing a line to another.

know when to pack it up. okay unfortunately, if you're doing this regularly, you're going to meet people who you do not actually want to be friends with. also unfortunate: it isn't dating, and you can't break up the same way. i met a girl who thought i was her reincarnated lover from the 1300s. i met a girl who tried to recruit me into a sex cult. i met a woman who tried to get me to join a lesbian farming commune. i met a guy who seemed cool and then tried to cheat on his girlfriend with me. we roll. and sometimes, we roll away from people, at extreme speed. guard your time and do not waste it on people you don't want to be friends with.

other points i'll add are: consistently follow up with people (even if that means adding them to a calendar), understand when you are the one not being vibed with and don't take it personally, don't lie to try and be what you think someone wants you to be, and practice. all of this takes practice. i was largely friendless for a lot of years because i didn't like talking to people, couldn't not try to be cool around them, and was a shitty person. you're already ahead on all three counts. and another word of encouragement: making one friend usually means making a half a dozen, because people will bring their own friends with them. i've certainly made a lot that way. it's really only a process you have to go through a few times before it starts coming faster and easier. good luck anon! <333

#not adding this but also: the number of friends i made through writing fanfic #woooooweee man #and i still have them! and i am binding my soul to them so they can never leave me #unfortunately i also met someone who tried to get me to join her writing club this way #but it was just the two of us #and she wanted us to write a tv show about ourselves #you have to run sometimes #you have to run very far away and very fast

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malusokay · 2 years ago

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Glow-up tips that actually work from your favourite beauty girly (me)

Hot girls don't gatekeep, so here are some of my favourite glow-up tips that actually work. <3

Skin

Find a skincare routine that works for you!! It took me years to find mine, but now my skin is literally perfect. <3 (let me know if you guys want a detailed skincare routine!!)

Don't pick your skin, the less you touch your face, the better.

I believe ice rollers are bs…

If you struggle with dark circles, don't try fixing them through skincare. Most likely, the problem comes from your diet or stress.

Dry brushing is a game-changer!!

Use lotion after every shower and apply a body spray before the lotion is fully absorbed into your skin. You'll smell amazing for DAYS.

Don't try homemade skincare if you already struggle with your skin. I learned it the hard way, lol…

WASH YOUR MAKEUP BRUSHES

Hair

The more heat you use, the more damage you'll have.

SILK PILLOWCASES

Never sleep with wet or damp hair.

Stop buying cheap shampoo and conditioner, also make sure to check the ingredients!!

Some ingredients to avoid: Sulfates, Parabens, Polyethene Glycols, Triclosan, Formaldehyde, Synthetic Fragrances and Colors, Dimethicone, Retinyl Palmitate.

I trim my hair every 3 months.

If you have damaged hair, invest in some Olaplex!! my favourites are N4c, N6 and N7. <3

Diet

green juice actually makes you feel better. I make mine at home and LOVE it :)

Balance is key!! I swear by the 80/20 rule.

Drink more water, even if you think you're drinking enough. DRINK MORE

Keto is BS <3

Focus on eating more protein. Usually, low-fat products have more protein, so I just try to buy those, lol.

I eat gluten-free, not by choice… But it did clear my acne, so…

Take supplements, get a blood test done, discuss it with a doctor and start taking whatever they recommend. GAME CHANGER.

EAT MORE VEGETABLES and fruits.

Lifestyle

Focus on being more active, walk more, workout, join a club or sport, dance, whatever works for you!!

I aim for 10K steps, I live in a big city, so I usually walk more than that but still.

Hobbies that don't include screen time. Trust me.

Find your personal style and ALWAYS dress up. <3

TREAT YOURSELF. Buy yourself flowers, and presents, go to your favourite restaurants, vacations!!

Read more. As a classics lover, I can't imagine a life without literature, but even if you don't like classics, any book is better than no book!!

Take more pictures. I've noticed that I have become a lot more present since I've started taking more pictures!! highly recommend :)

I hate to say this, but getting up earlier is lowkey kinda great... been doing it for a few weeks, and unfortunately, I do feel better... they were right...

Get a cat. :)

Mindset

Stop assuming that everyone hates you, they don't, trust me.

Journaling, manifesting, law of attraction, affirmations.

one of my favourite affirmations: "if I weren't capable, the opportunity wouldn't have come my way; I belong here." <3

Stop hanging out with people who drain your energy

stop consuming media that makes you feel bad.

What would the highest version of yourself do?

If you change your mindset, you will change your life.

Romanticise every aspect of your life. <3

As always, please feel free to share your own suggestions and glow-up tips in the comments! <3

✩‧₊*:・love ya ･:*₊‧✩

9K notes · View notes

atlafan · 2 months ago

Text

candy

summary: harry needs to learn how to use his mouth better, so he goes to see someone who can help him with just that words: 7.9K warnings: sex work, oral (giving and receiving) a/n: not proofread I the song candy by cameo inspired this, def recommend listening because it's so good I if you like what you read here, please consider joining my patreon for access to exclusive fics not posted on tumblr I i haven't posted fic on here in a while. Please, please, please reblog, leave notes in the tags, and/or send me asks!!

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Harry was…embarrassed, to say the least. But he supposes places and services like these exist for a reason, so he shouldn’t be ashamed for going. Plus, if he boiled it down, he’s going for purely academic purposes. He needs help with something, and he’s going straight to the source to become a pro.

Taking a deep breath, Harry opens the door to the lobby of the building and goes straight to the elevator to the eighteenth floor. He takes his phone out to look at the code he was instructed to punch into the keypad on the door, and then he’s buzzed in, able to check in at reception.

“Um, hi.” He says just above a whisper to the woman behind the semi-circle desk.

“Good afternoon, sir.” She smiled warmly. “How may I help you?”

“I have an appointment at 4PM with, uh,” he looks down at his phone, “is her name really Candy?”

“No.” She chuckles. “But all of the girls have stage names, so to speak. It’s for extra security. Please, have a seat, and I’ll let her know you’re here.” She gestures to the waiting area where a few other men are waiting. God, this is mortifying, he thinks.

Harry sits down and keeps his eyes locked on his lap, not wanting to make eye-contact with any of the other guys there.

“Mr. S.?” He hears the woman from behind the desk say. “You can head down to room ten.” She gestures to the hallway and Harry gets up to go, grateful just his initial was used and not his actual name. He needs privacy just the same as these women.

When he finds room ten, he punches in the same code into the keypad and goes inside. The room is dimly lit. It looks like a large bedroom, a master suite. There’s a king-sized bed, but also a loveseat, three-seater couch, and a bureau. He also spies what looks like a bathroom. Wow, nothing’s even happened yet, and Harry’s already realizing that this is going to be worth every penny.

“Hey, baby.” Candy comes out of the bathroom dressed in a black, silk teddy dress and heels. She’s wearing thigh-high stockings as well. “Can I take your jacket for you?” Harry nods at that and unbuttons his suit jacket, shimmying it off and handing it to Candy. She makes a show of walking over to the small closet and hangs it up on a hanger before coming back to him. “This is your first time here, isn’t it.” It’s not a question, but Harry still nods. “You don’t need to be nervous, baby. You booked me for three hours, so we have all the time in the world to get comfortable. Do you want something to drink?” She gestures to the bar cart on the other side of the room.

“No, thank you.”

“Alright.”

“And I don’t want you to have one either.”

“Then I won’t.” She smiles. “Do you want to sit on the bed, the couch…?”

“The couch.” He decides, and they both go sit on it. Candy tucks her feet under her bum and props her head on her fist, resting her elbow on the back of the couch. “You’re very,” his eyes drift down to her cleavage, then back up to her face, “pretty.”

“Well, thank you, baby.” She gives him a beaming smile. “You’re a sight for sore eyes yourself.” She laughs. “I have to do this with a lot of guys I’m not particularly attracted to. I got a little excited when I saw you were assigned to me today.”

“That’s kind of you.” He blushes. “They make you have sex with guys you normally wouldn’t say yes to?”

“I mean, no one makes me do anything. There’s about a dozen different secret buttons around this room for me to press to call for security. No one gives us any trouble here, but you should know, there’s no funny business.”

“I wouldn’t dream of doing anything without your permission.”

“So, why don’t you tell me what you want, baby? How can I make you feel good? I can suck you off, let you bend me over the bed, or-“

“I want to go down on you.” He blurts out, and it takes her off guard.

“Come again?”

“I want to go down on you.” He repeats, a little slower this time. “That’s all.”

“Are you serious?”

“Do guys not normally go down on you?”

“No, some do, but most guys are here to take care of their own needs, mine don’t usually matter. Not that I mind. I have to use so much lube to get even remotely wet for some of these guys. I’m thankful that a lot of them don’t even ask to go down on me.”

“Oh.” He looks away for a moment, then back to her. “So, this is weird…”

“Nah, everyone has their kinks and fetishes. If you like going down on women, then-“

“I need practice at it.” His cheeks heat for the millionth time that day. “I’m not very good at it, not confident, and I can tell when I’m with a woman, or someone with a vagina, that…well, I get the tap a lot.”

“The tap?”

“You know,” he taps the top of one of his shoulders, “when someone gives you the tap to cut it out and get on with it. I’m confident with my cock, lots of orgasms have been had on my cock, but I know that’s not always what a woman wants, and I care so much about getting a woman off, but it’s so awkward to have to keep asking, ‘do you like that’, or, ‘is that good’. So, I just need someone to practice on so I can get better at it, and then feel more confident when I’m having relations with someone.”

“You’re telling me you’ve tried to go down on women, and they haven’t told you how to do it?”

“Some try, and then they just get frustrated, and then I get frustrated. And…I’m not all that confident with my fingers either. Sometimes I can make it happen, and other times I can’t. I feel like making a woman come during foreplay is really important. It helps them relax, gets them more into it, and then I feel better, which means I can perform better.”

“So, you booked me for three hours so I can help you get better at eating someone out, and that’s all you want to do?”

“Yes.” He nods. “I’ll probably come in my pants from doing it. I get off knowing I’m getting someone else off. So, if it’s okay with you, I’ll probably just strip down to my underthings, so I don’t ruin my pants.”

“Baby, I see people naked every day, of course it’s okay with me.”

“Do you call every guy baby?”

“I…what?”

“I don’t want to be called what you call everyone else. It feels impersonal. How am I your baby already? We just met.”

“Well, are you a precious thing.” She smooths his hair back from his forehead. “What would you like to be called? A lot of guys don’t use their real names, same as me.”

“I’d rather be called by my name. Is that okay?”

“Yes, and don’t worry, you have my discretion. We all sign NDA’s when we take on new clients.”

“That’s good to know.” Harry sighs with relief. “My job…I’m one of the faces of my company.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” He shrugs.

“Did you ask any of your friends how they approach things? Or, like, have you watched lesbian porn? It’s still exaggerated, but no one knows how to go down on a woman more than another woman, in my opinion.”

“I was too embarrassed to ask my friends. We don’t talk about things like this. They only brag about the good stuff, no one talks about their weaknesses. And I have watched…all kinds of porn, and as helpful as the visuals are, I learn much better by doing.”

“Okay.” Candy stands and claps her hands together. “Let’s get comfortable on the bed. I think we should act out what you usually do when you’re getting ready to sleep with someone. Kiss me, touch me, do whatever you usually do with a woman.”

Harry nods and stands up. “My name’s Harry.”

“Hi, Harry.” She smooths her hands up his chest. “Can I loosen your tie for you?”

“Yes.” He watches her nimble fingers work the knot and slides it off his collar. She takes the material between her thumb and index finger.

“This is quality material.”

“I don’t fuck around with my clothes.” He smirks, letting some personality shine through, and she makes an impressed face. He takes the tie from her and gently places it to hang on the back of the couch. He brings his hand up and tucks some hair behind Candy’s ear, a little unsure of how to start. “So, we can kiss? You want to do this really?”

“Yes, Harry, I do.”

Hearing his name on her lips sends a zip of electricity through his body. He leans in and brushes his Cupid’s bow against hers, then takes her top lip between his own. He gives it a gentle suck, and revels in the way she kisses him back. She keeps it slow, going at his pace. His hands cup her jaw as he licks into her mouth. Candy moans lowly, melting into him.

They stand there like that for a while, just the sounds of their lips smacking, their breaths huffing, and the spit being swapped between them filling the room. Harry presses his pelvis against Candy’s, and she squeaks, immediately putting a hand over his erection to palm it. He snatches her wrist and shakes his head no.

“But, you’re hard.”

“That’s not what I want from you.” He brings her knuckles up to his lips, kissing on them, and then up her arm and to her neck.

“Oh, fuck.” She moans breathlessly, clutching at the hair on the back of his head to keep him where he is. “I love being bitten.”

Harry whimpers into her, nipping at her tender skin a little harder. Her other hand flies to his back, clutching at the material of his dress shirt. Her knees nearly buckle when his teeth nip at her earlobe. He walks her back towards the bed, and they topple on top of it. Harry wedges his thigh between Candy’s and grinds it in hard.

Candy is absolutely perplexed. Surely this Harry guy is joking because from kissing alone, she can’t imagine him not knowing what to do with her other set of lips. He’s insanely good at this part of things.

His teeth drag along her collarbones, and his hand hovers over one of her breasts. “Can I touch you here?” He asks.

“Yes.” She presses her hand over his, squeezing. “Kiss me here too.”

Harry nods and sucks on her nipple through the silk material of her teddy. She lets out a loud moan, and Harry moves to sit up. Unbuckling his belt, he shimmies out of his pants, leaving his boxer-briefs on, and undoes his dress shirt, taking that, along with his white t-shirt, off, then gets his mouth back on Candy’s.

“Jesus, you’re ripped.” She says, smoothing her hands over every hard ridge of his abdomen. “And your tattoos…so sexy.”

“Has everything been okay so far?”

“Better than okay. You’re a really good kisser.”

“I’m gonna work my way down now.” He tells her, kissing down her silk covered body. He pushes the material up to bunch around her hips. “You’re not wearing any underwear.”

“I’m aware.”

“Don’t women like being teased over them?”

“Some do, and some don’t. I personally don’t like it, so I don’t usually wear any panties under my teddies.

“Right, I need to remember not everyone is the same.” He says more to himself. “Okay, walk me through it.”

“Just do what you normally do, and I’ll correct you if need be.”

Harry nods and spreads Candy’s lips apart. She’s glistening, and it goes right to his cock because she literally just told him she needs lube for most of her clients, and she clearly doesn’t need any for him. He leans in and-

“I’m gonna stop you right there. This is where you should be teasing me.” She props herself up on her elbows. “Kiss on my inner thighs, blow cool air over me. I should be quivering and pulsing for you.”

Harry kisses from Candy’s inner left knee, and down, down, down, blows cool air over her sex, and then kisses up her other inner thigh. He sucks bruise after bruise into her, and she puts one of her legs over his shoulder, pulling him in by digging her heel into his back.

“I’m ready now, want it.”

“And should I be quick to give it to you, or should I keep teasing?”

“Keep teasing but give me your fingers first.” He raises a hand to her, and she takes two fingers into her mouth. She takes them down deep until she’s spitting up, soaking them. “Slide them through my folds.”

Harry almost blew his load right then and there. He brings his fingers down and slides them up through Candy’s folds. She spreads her legs wider and uses her own fingers to pull her outer lips up and apart so he can see her clit.

“I know where the clitoris is.” He rolls his eyes.

“Apparently you don’t if you’re getting the tap, as you called it.” She smirks. “Just take a second to look at it. It’s throbbing for you, Harry, all swollen and full of blood. It wants your tongue, your hot mouth, so badly.”

“Fuck.” He leans in and licks over it with the flat of his tongue.

“Good, do that again.” And he does, he gives it long licks over and over again. “Now, spit on it, watch it slide down my slit.” She watches him do it. “Okay, now do what you usually do.”

It felt good, at first. Candy liked the way Harry’s tongue swirled around her clit, but before she could sink into it, he licked into her cunt and curled his tongue, which also felt good, but again, by the time it was really starting to do something for her, he dragged his tongue back up to her clit. Normally, this would be edging, but this isn’t fun edging. She thinks that Harry is unaware of what he’s doing.

“Stop.” She tells him, and he does. “I see the problem.”

“How bad was it?”

“It wasn’t terrible, but you keep changing it up too quickly. It’s not a race.”

“I know that.”

“Then why do you keep moving from my clit to my hole every two seconds? You’re not giving me enough time to enjoy it while it’s happening. You gotta pick one and stick with it. What do you feel more confident with, tonguing my clit or my hole?”

“I…” He sits back and blushes. “I guess this is the part where I’m a little selfish and greedy. I feel more confident working the clit with my mouth, but I really like to taste and suck on the pussy.”

“Harry,” she chuckles, “you’re allowed to be selfish and greedy. All of that is going towards pleasuring your partner. And that doesn’t mean you can’t still do both, you just need to listen to your partner a little. See what they like, get them off, then go be gluttonous and have your feast.”

“Okay.” He nods. “How do you like it, then?”

“Don’t worry about that-“

“Candy, I really want to make you come.”

“Alright.” She nods and lays back. “I need constant stimulation to my clit, and I need fingers inside me. Get me off that way, and then you can suck on my pussy.” Harry smiles softly and dives back in, wrapping his lips around Candy’s clit. “That’s good, while you suck with your mouth, use your tongue to swirl around my clit…oh, fuck, yeah, just like that.” She reaches to brush a few stray curls back off his forehead. “And look up at me, watch me go through the motions.” His eyes flit up to hers, and her hips buck towards his mouth. “Such pretty green eyes, Harry.”

He moans and slides his middle finger inside of her. She’s so wet, and it’s driving him crazy. He ruts into the mattress, so desperate to taste everything she’s giving him. But he wants to do this right, so he focuses on her clit.

“I need two.” Harry slips a second finger inside her. “Good, pump them in and out slowly, let’s build up to things. And it’s also okay to give your mouth a break, it’s all part of the teasing.” He pops off her and watches his fingers go in and out of her tight hole. “Spit on it, keep it messy.” Harry spits onto her clit. “Now suck it back into your mouth and flick that tongue against my clit.”

He’s a good listener, open to constructive feedback, so he does as told. He’s rewarded when he feels Candy tighten around her fingers. Harry thrusts them deep inside, keeping them there as he curls them to pet against that spongey bump. Candy gasps and props herself up on her elbows as she watches Harry. Her mouth falls open and she starts rocking against him, moving her hips along with his fingers. A man hasn’t found her g-spot in ages, if ever.

“Like that, j-just like that, Harry.” She bites into her bottom lip, and he looks up at her as his tongue licks her clit in tight circles. The sound of her wetness is driving Harry crazy, but he pushes his urge to taste her down. This is about Candy right now. “Oh, wow. Wow, wow, wow, wow.” Her head falls back, and her hips raise. Her back arches, and she starts moaning out loudly, uncontrollably. “Don’t stop, Harry. Fuck, please, please, please, please! Ah, ah, ah!”

When Candy comes, she snaps her legs closed around Harry’s wrist, and nearly snaps it from the way she twitches and moves. She grabs the base of his wrist and moves it so he’ll keep fucking his fingers into her through the aftershocks. She moans gutturally one more time before falling limply against the bed.

Harry slowly pulls his fingers out of her and sucks on them. He looks down at Candy’s drenched core and lifts her thighs over his shoulders before licking inside.

“Oh!” She gasps and tugs on his hair, not to get him to stop, though. Harry moans as he drinks her in. “S-spread my cheeks and lick my other hole too.” His eyes light up, like he’s just been given a golden ticket. In a matter of seconds, he’s flipping Candy onto her stomach and pulling her up by her hips so he can spread her ass and lick her puckered hole properly. “Fuck, Harry, that’s so good. You can smack my ass too, if you want.” She jolts forward when his large hand comes down hard on her cheek. “Fuck me with your fingers from behind, really beat them into me.”

This time, Harry fucks her with three fingers, and he does it rapidly as he continues eating her peach.

“Harry, I…I think I’m gonna…” she doesn’t get to finish her sentence. The wave of relief crashes over her and she gushes. Harry’s fingers slide out, and slap against her clit quickly, keeping the mess flowing. “Fucking hell.” Her chest heaves as she moves to lay on her back. Harry lays down next to her.

“So, all of that was good?”

“It was very good.” She pats at his chest. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve come so hard.” She turns her head to look at him. “Did you end up blowing in your underwear?”

“Yeah.” He smiles sheepishly. “It was hard not to.”

“Damn, I would have gladly sucked you off after all that.”

“I’ll get hard again.” He waves her off. “We’re not done yet.”

“Right, you still have me for a couple more hours. Did you want to fuck now?” She turns on her side to face him fully, and he mirrors her, resting his hand on her hip, rubbing her skin affectionately with his thumb.

“No, I want you to sit on my face so I can practice that way. One time with you facing me, and another with you facing away.”

“Okay, just…I need a minute.”

“Sure, take your time.” He smiles softly, keeping his hand on her hip. “You probably hear this all the time, but you have a beautiful body.”

“I do hear that a lot, but it feels more genuine coming from a nice guy like you.” She chews on her bottom lip for a moment. “Whoever you’re practicing all this for is going to be a lucky girl.”

The air in the room feels tense for a beat.

“Okay, we’ll start off with me facing you.” Candy says. “This way is all about the woman. Then, we’ll do it with me facing away from you and I’ll suck you off at the same time. It’s good to practice staying focused on your girl’s pleasure while she’s pleasuring you.”

“That sounds good.” He lays back, a little nervous. “There’re so many different ways to do this. Like, should I just stick my tongue out flat and let you grind against it? Should I just suck on your clit? Should I have you rub against my nose while you ride my tongue?”

“You’re over thinking it, Harry. It’s up to the girl you’re fucking to set how she wants it. Personally, I’d love it if you put your tongue up inside me. I’ll rub my own clit.”

“What should I do with my hands?”

“You can squeeze and smack my ass, rub my rim.”

“Fuck.” He murmurs. “Get on me, now.”

Candy swings her leg over Harry’s face and hovers over him for a moment. She squeaks when he pulls her down. He licks up inside her slowly, letting her adjust to the muscle, then he pulls her down even more until she’s fully seated on top of him. She spits onto her fingers and lazily rubs her clit as she grinds down on his tongue. Harry curls it and flicks it inside her, moaning at the taste. His large hands squeeze her ass, giving her a few swats before spreading her apart and rubbing the pad of his thumb around her rom.

“Ah, fuck.” Her head tips back and free hand buries in his hair. “You can put your thumb in, if you want.” Harry doesn’t need to be told twice. He gently works his thumb into her tight hole. “Yeah, just like that.” She moves her hips in slow circles, reveling in the way Harry’s moaning and groaning underneath her. She’s soaked and he’s slurping on her. “I…I think I’m getting close already, wow.” This never happens. It usually takes her a while to start feeling that familiar tingle at the base of her spine, but she’s rubbing her clit faster and moving on Harry’s tongue faster, and then she’s screaming. “Shit, Harry!” She yanks roughly on his hair as she comes, and she comes hard. She goes to move off him, but he keeps her seated, mumbling something against her. “What?” She asks breathlessly.

“M'not done yet.” He says, briefly coming up for air before diving back in. He sucks her clit with one last pop, then pets her ass. “Okay, you can turn around now.”

Candy swivels around and leans forward, pressing her hands into the mattress between Harry’s legs.

“There’s a few ways to do this, but I can’t stress this enough, everyone is different, so I’m going to tell you how I like it.”

“Okay.” He presses a kiss to one of her cheeks, and it makes her face sizzle. Why did he have to be so cute. “Tell me how you like it.”

“Fuck me from behind with your fingers, bury your face in my ass, and use your free hand to rub my clit.” She slips her hand into his briefs to pull his cock out. “How do you like your blow jobs?”

“Sloppy, don’t…don’t be pretty about it.”

Candy responds by spitting on the tip and taking it into her mouth. Harry’s mouth falls open, loving the way her hot mouth feels on him. But he has a mission to accomplish. He’s working on building a tolerance. He runs his fingers between her wet folds before slipping them inside. From there, he does exactly how she told him: his mouth works her ass, his fingers pound into her g-spot, and his free hand rubs her clit.

“Ohhhh, shit, Harry.” She gasps around his cock, choking a little. She pulls all the way off and jerks him.

“Candy.” He moans. “Did I find it, sweetheart?”

“Yes, you did, yes, yes, yes!” She moves back against him to meet his thrusts, then gets her mouth back on him. She takes him down her throat, gagging around him, and using that spit to jerk him a little faster.

Their bodies are so in sync. They’re both wet and drippy for the other, both spurring the other on. The second Harry feels Candy spasming around his fingers, he lets himself come, and Candy swallows all of it, sucking him dry before rolling off onto her back.

“Holy shit.” She breathes.

“Yeah.” He gives her ankle a fond squeeze as his chest heaves. “You’re something else.”

“You’re unreal.”

“You taste really good.”

“So do you.” She turns her head to look at the clock on the wall. “You have me for hour and a half. What do you feel like doing?”

“We just did all of that in thirty minutes?” He sits up. “That was really fast.”

“Yes, it was.” She giggles. “But it was good.”

“Come here, come sit in my lap.” Candy does so, wrapping her legs around his waist. “You’re so beautiful.” He runs his thumb over her bottom lip.

“And you’re sweet.” She hugs him, resting her face in the crook of his neck. “How come you booked me up for the rest of my shift?”

“Because I could.”

“Oooh, well, aren’t you special.” She pulls back and smirks at him. “You know, most of the people that come here are wealthy, so that doesn’t impress me.”

“I wasn’t trying to. You asked me a question, and I gave you an honest answer. I don’t like doing these types of things with people and then leaving immediately after. I needed extra time for this.” He lets himself fall back, keeping her to lay mostly on top of him.

“Oh.” She snuggles into him. “Well, I rarely get to cuddle, so this is fine by me.”

“Do you like this line of work? I’ve always admired sex workers. This isn’t an easy job at all. It takes a lot of courage and bravery.”

“Thank you for saying that. I’m one of the luckier ones. I’m not on drugs, can’t be because they do regular blood tests. I have a salary, a retirement account, and other benefits. It could be a lot worse.”

“Do you also provide escort services?”

“No. Some girls do, but I don’t. I like to keep everything related to this job in this room.”

“Is this all you do for work, or is this a side hustle?”

“Nope, full time, hence being a salaried worker.

“Oh, duh.” He chuckles, then reaches for one of the throw blankets to drape over them. “So, how’d you end up here?”

“Most of us are all a thin line away from being homeless. My job let me go when COVID first happened. You can only stay on unemployment for so long. All these companies say no one wants to work, but no one wants to hire either. And, I’m sorry, but I’m not settling. I should be paid enough that I shouldn’t need a side hustle. One of my friends who ended up having a sugar daddy told me about this place. I started out part-time, just to pay some bills, but they told me some people wanted repeat appointments, then I was getting regulars, then I was getting paid more. It all sort of just fell into place, and I didn’t look back.”

“What were you doing for work beforehand?”

“I was a backend coder for a major financial firm. They got rid of the entire department and contracted out their cyber needs from a company that specialized in that because it made more sense fiscally.” She rolls her eyes. “It was for the best, I hated it.”

“And you love this?”

“Honestly, I like it a lot better than sitting behind three monitors all day, five days a week. I’ve actually gotten in better shape from having sex full time. Do I have to fake it for most guys, yeah, but none of them are mean to me. They just want someone to make them feel special for a little while, and I’ve found that I like having the power and ability to do that.”

“You have more control over your own life.”

“Exactly.” She looks up at him. “What about you? What do you do?”

“I…sort of own an airline company.”

“How do you sort of own an airline?”

“I’m a nepo baby.” He smiles sheepishly. “My father stepped down a few years ago so I could move up while he was still around. I’m lucky and fortunate, so I try not to complain about things too much. So many people have it far worse than I do.”

“Wait a second…Harry S…” She sits up and scrambles away from him. “You’re Harry Styles!”

“Is that a bad thing?” He sits up. “Shit, please don’t tell me you’ve fucked my dad.”

“No, it’s nothing like that. But you have fucked one of my friends. You used to date Jennifer Harris, right?”

“Yeah, years ago.”

“Fuck! And now I have to keep this insane secret from her. She’d be so pissed off, Harry, like, you have no idea.”

“If you’re such good friends with her, then hoe come we’ve never met prior to this?”

“I didn’t become friends with her until after you two parted ways. She told me so much about your relationship. She never mentioned anything about you being bad in bed, though.”

“I never said I was bad in bed either, I just needed some help getting better at one aspect of it.” He gets off the bed and starts pulling his clothes back on. “How, uh, how is she? I know she got married a year or so ago.”

“She’s doing well. Her and her husband are a great couple. They’re trying for a baby.”

“I’m glad she found someone that could give her the attention she deserves. I wasn’t very good at that. I also wasn’t ready to settle down, and she was. How did you two become friends?”

“She owns the lingerie store I buy stuff from.”

“Ohhhh, right.” He nods, zipping his pants and buttoning his shirt. “That makes sense. I don’t think you have anything to worry about. You clearly didn’t know it was me. You didn’t look at any pictures from when she and I were together?”

“Your hair was longer! And you weren’t as, I don’t know, beefy.”

“Thank you?” He questions with a smirk. “Is this going to be a problem? Because I’d like to be able to come back and see you again.” He makes his way over to her and tilts her head up by curling his finger under her chin.

“But…why? You did so well today.”

“I wanna see if it’s just as good for a repeat performance. And then I’d need to come back again after that to test out some of the other things I do during sex so I can get an honest review.” He leans down and brings his lips to the shell of her ear, “And I just know you’re dying to know what it’ll feel like to have my cock deep inside you.”

“Jesus Christ.” She clutches at his shoulders. “You’re going to put me in a very difficult situation.”

“You can say no to my appointment requests, but I’d be very disappointed if you did.” He pecks her lips. “I know you want to see me again.” He pecks her lops again, a little longer this time. “Hm? Wanna see me again, Candy?” He takes her bottom lip between his and he cups her jaw, licking into her mouth. She moans against him. Before she has a chance to really kiss him back, he pulls away. “God, I’d love to spit right into this pretty mouth.”

“You can.”

“Next time, I will.” He presses a kiss to her forehead. “Enjoy the rest of your evening. I’ll come back soon.”

Harry leaves the room, walks down the hall, and out of the suite. The second he’s back down on the street, he sucks in a breath and turns into the alley to try and calm himself down. He’s never that confident and forward with women. But she brought something out of him. When she mentioned Jennifer…it made something snap. He fucking hates Jennifer. So, if he inadvertently makes her suffer by having sex with her good friend, then so be it. Because Candy isn’t someone that Harry is going to be able to stay away from. Not after they shared something so wonderfully intimate.

Harry thought he’d be able to book another appointment to see Candy again way sooner, but his jaw hangs open as he looks at her availability on the app. Since he’s come in once, he’s been invited into the company’s app so he can book meetings on his own.

Two weeks. Candy doesn’t have another opening for two entire weeks. He grumbled to himself and books her entire evening on the first day he sees she’s free. And for good measure, he books out a couple other appointments so he’s not left scrambling. And for each one, he maxes out the five hour limit.

One time with this woman and he’s already pussy whipped!

The two weeks are torture. He’s jittery and agitated at work. Running it off in the gym does very little for him.

But finally, the day has come to see her again. Harry goes after work and follows the sale procedures, only this time, he’s not at all embarrassed. When his name is called, he all but sprints to Candy’s door and punches in the code. He doesn’t see her right away, but then, there she is, coming out of the bathroom in a red, silk teddy. She gives him a soft, almost shy, smile.

Harry closes the distance between them, cups her jaw, and kisses her deeply. It takes her by surprise, but it’s a welcomed one.

“Mm.” He pulls away and looks down at her before kissing her again. “Missed these lips.”

“I’m sorry I was so busy.” She circles around him to take his suit jacket off, sauntering to the closet to hang it up. “I have a few snowbirds, and they all decided to basically come see me at once before they all go back to Florida or whatever.”

“You fuck guys that much older than you?”

“Mhmm.” She loosens his tie and gives it a tug to slip it off, placing it on the back of one of the chairs. “It’s no so bad.” Her eyes find his. “Let’s talk about you. How have you been?” She leads him to the couch so they can sit and chat.

“Work’s been stressful, but it sort of always is. I had to hire a couple of corporate level people, that’s never fun.”

“What’d they do to deserve being fired?”

“They were sexually harassing a few interns, thinking they could get away with it.” He scoffs. “They thought wrong, let me tell you. I survey just about all of the security footage daily, and I saw the same two idiots bothering these young women who could be their daughters, and so I had HR get involved, and I fired them both without severance pay. Which means they’ll probably try to sue for wrongful termination, thinking it’s all hearsay, but they don’t know about the footage, so joke’s on them.”

“And the interns, how are they?”

“I think they’ll be alright. I spoke with all of them and apologized profusely. I told them that behavior like that didn’t trickle down from me, and that I take it all very seriously. They’re all continuing with their internships, which is good. I would have felt terrible if they couldn’t get credit for this.”

“Wow, I think you’re the first ethical CEO in corporate history.”

“There’s nothing ethical about capitalism.” He says lowly, shaking his head. Candy’s hand gripped his knee and she moaned.

“Don’t stop, I’m close.” She pops an eye open, and they both burst into a fit of giggles. “Handsome, kind, and self aware? Damn, you’re the whole package.”

“I’ve thought about you a lot over these last two weeks.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, and I made sure to book out some other appointments in advance.”

“I saw that.”

“Does it bother you that I book the longest blocks I can?”

“Nah, I get paid the same amount no matter how many appointments I have a week.” She chews on her bottom lip. “Last time, you mentioned that you wanted to show me how you do other things…”

“I want your honest feedback. Can we go lay on the bed for a bit?”

“Of course.” They both climb onto the bed and Harry pulls Candy to rest her head on his chest. “I like your cologne.” She mutters.

“Thank you.” He murmurs, his eyes fluttering closed. “Would it be weird if we took a quick catnap?”

“Not weird at all. I’ll set a timer for thirty minutes. Take your clothes off, we can get under the covers.”

When all is said and done, Harry turns Candy onto her side so he can spoon her. He wedges a leg between hers and sighs contently. A nap after a long day with a beautiful woman in his arms feels almost as good as when he had his tongue inside her pussy. Almost.

“Oh, God! You’re so good at this, fuck!” Candy moans out as Harry eats her from behind. She reaches behind herself to grip his hair and keep him close. “I’m almost there, don’t stop!” It’s not often Candy gets to have a genuine orgasm while being with her clients, so she’s taking full advantage. “Fuck!” She collapses to the bed after coming, and Harry trails kisses up her spine and along her shoulders. “You seriously have nothing to worry about. No notes.” She says as she catches her breath once Harry lets her roll onto her back.

“Good.” He smiles. “There’s something else I want to do today.” He tugs the front of her teddy down, exposing her breasts. He licks over one of her nipples, and Candy gasps. “Does this actually feel good?” He gives the sides of her breast to further pucker her nipple for him to flick his tongue over.

“Yes.” She threads her fingers into his hair as he takes more into his mouth, sucking roughly. A long moan escapes her. He travels to the other and does the same thing. “Can I please have your cock inside me?”

“No.” He sits up and pulls the teddy completely off her body, leaving her bare. “I want to eat you again.” He gets on his belly between her legs, wraps his arms around her thighs, and off he goes.

“You’re killing me.” She whines, throwing her forearm over her eyes. Harry slips two of his fingers inside of her, and she sighs with relief.

“Better?”

“Want your cock.” She sits up on her elbows. “Why won’t you give it to me?”

“Because I don’t have to.”

“You’re a sadist, you know that? You come off all timid and shy, but all of that hides a devious side to you.”

“A sadist wouldn’t let you come at all.” He kitten licks her clit before sucking it between his lips. “Is that how you want it to be?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I just need…more.” He slips a third finger inside of her. “More.”

“I don’t think your little pussy could handle it.” He lets her legs go and crawls up her body, slotting his mouth over hers. His fingers are still inside her. He starts pumping them shallowly and lets the heel of palm beat into her clit. “God, listen to you. So fucking wet for me. Do you get this wet for your other clients?”

“No, never!” She whimpers. “I usually need to use lube.”

“Poor thing.” He pouts down at her. “Can feel you squeezing around me, are you getting close?”

“Yes.”

“Are you gonna come? Gonna come for me, sweet girl?”

“Oh, fuck!” Her hips move upward and then she’s coming. She twitches around his wrist a few times before he pulls his fingers out. He sucks them into his mouth and moans.

“Do you call yourself Candy because you know you taste like it?”

“Stop.” She chuckles. “Pussy does not taste sweet.”

“Yours does.” He presses a kiss to her forehead, then looks down at the painful bulge in his briefs. “Would you mind, uh, sucking me off?” A blush creeps over his cheeks.

Candy smiles and grabs a pillow to kneel on before getting off the bed. She spreads Harry’s legs and pulls his briefs down. He leans back on his hands and lets her get to work how she wants. His head rolls back the first time she swallows around him. He’s in absolute heaven, and from the sounds of her moans, it’s safe to say she is too.

Every meeting started the same. Candy would take Harry’s suit jacket and loosen his tie. Then, they’d sit on the couch, and slowly move to the bed as they talked. Sometimes Harry wanted a quick nap, and other times he was ready to start right away. He still hadn’t properly fucked her, but he’s fucked her with several dildos and vibrators. He wanted to work on those skills just the same. He even fucked a plug in and out of her ass.

They’d been going at it for at least two months at this point. He still didn’t know her real name, but he knew a ton of other things. He enjoyed talking with her, probably more than he should. Because when Harry goes out on a few different blind dates, he finds himself comparing every woman to Candy. The hollow look in their eyes while they smiled and nodded did nothing for him.

On this particular evening, Harry showed up with a bouquet of flowers for his girl.

“Harry, this was so thoughtful, thank you.”

“Can we talk for a minute?” He takes her hand, and they go to the couch. “I’ve tried going out with other women, and none of them are you. I know I don’t even know your real name, but…”

“Harry, I know where you’re going with this, and the answer is no. I’ve never accepted any sugar baby offers for a reason. At some point, you’ll get bored, kick me out, and then I’ll be shit out of luck. I don’t want a man directly paying my way. It would make me feel powerless and trapped.”

“That’s not what I was going to ask you, like, at all.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I wanted to know if I could take you out on a real date sometime, when you’re not on the clock as Candy.”

“I can’t do that either, Harry.” She puts her hand on his knee, giving it a squeeze. “I keep these worlds separate. Men can’t handle that I fuck other men, they always ask me to quit, and-“

“I would never ask you to do something like that. If you ever end up leaving this place, it should be because you want to.”

“Jennifer is my best friend.”

“She and I broke up ages ago. Pretend like she’s not a factor in this. Would you go out on a date with me?”

“I…” she bites into her bottom lip.

“If no really is your answer, I’ll respect it, and we can keep things as they are, but…I have to be honest with you…every time I’m around you, I get this feeling. And it’s only with you. I wanna know if you feel it too.”

“I feel very strongly for you, more so than I have for any other client.”

“I’m so taken with you, sweetheart.” He cups her cheek and runs the pad of his thumb along her skin. “I think about you all the time, from the second I wake up in the morning. Just the thought of you has me tossing and turning and has my eyes rolling back. You have this affect on me, and you fascinate me, and I want to know everything about you. You’re so sweet, you’ve completely stolen my appetite.”

“Fuck, Harry.” She moves to straddle his lap, and she wraps her arms around him. “I’m so wet right now.” She says lowly into his ear.

“Don’t.” He grips her chin. “Don’t try to distract me.”

“I was just being honest the same way you just were. You…you’d really be okay with me continuing to work here if we started up?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “You don’t get this turned on by any of your other clients, do you?”

“Nope, only by you.”

“Then I think I could learn to compartmentalize things. This is work, not play.”

“Exactly.”

“Would I still be able to come see you here?”

“Yes, but don’t go taking up all my open slots. That kind of possessiveness doesn’t turn me on.”

“Noted.” He smiles softly. “So, I was thinking, for our first date, I could bring you home with me some night, and I could cook for you.”

“You cook?”

“It relaxes me. I can make whatever you like.”

“I can’t remember the last time someone cooked for me. That sounds nice.” She bites into her bottom up. “Say things go well, and we start dating regularly…what will you tell me people about me?”

“Whatever you’d want me to tell them. I can be as open or as private as you like. I’ll admit, I was embarrassed the first time I came here, but I’m finding that these types of places are way more common than I thought.”

“You could say we met at work. Not a total lie. When I’ve dated in the past, I usually tell the guy to tell others that I’m a masseuse.”

“Are you comfortable with that?”

“Yeah. It feels like the most accurate thing to say. I provide pleasure and relaxation.”

“You sure do.” He smirks. She rolls her eyes playfully at him. “Are you free tomorrow night for a date?”

“Yes.” She smiles.

“Great.” He trails kisses along her jaw line and nips at her earlobe. “Bring an overnight bag. I’m gonna give my cock tomorrow night, and if I do my job right, you won’t be able to walk afterwards.”

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x oc #hs fic #candy fic

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aycius · 7 months ago

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— WHEN YOU CAN’T SLEEP ‧₊˚

feat. satoru gojo, toji fushiguro, & nanami kento

warnings. none! just a whole lot of fluffiness

if you can’t go to sleep, SATORU will definitely try to help or (for lack of better words) force you to go to sleep. when he feels you shuffling around, he’ll grunt before placing his body on top of yours, hugging you tightly before mumbling “sleep” in your hair.

“i’ll try if you get off of me. you’re crushing me to death!” you say and he contemplates for a few seconds, but ultimately decides that you’re a really comfortable body pillow. from how he’s laying, he can feel your heart beating and your soft, steady breaths and it makes him wonder why he never thought of using you as a mattress before.

“promise?” and even though you nod your head, satoru can feel your smile on his collarbone which easily gives away that you’re not telling the truth. regardless, satoru still rolls off to the side and stares at the ceiling with you.

“what’s bothering you,” he whispers, it’s soft and genuine and that alone is enough to make your heart throb at 2 am. it’s also really funny seeing his concerned look right now because he doesn’t know he’s overanalyzing the whole situation.

you see, you didn’t eat dinner tonight. satoru ordered you takeout on his way home because he assumed you’d be hungry, but you weren’t, so you let him have yours. what you failed to realize though, is how hungry you’d be later on and now you’re facing the consequences. you finally sigh and turn your body so you’re face to face with him on the bed.

“toru,” you bite back the laugh that wants to come out because of how serious satoru looks right now. you figured that you should tell him straight up to ease his mind of any possible negative thoughts he could be thinking. “i’m really hungry.”

and satoru sighs, (you can’t tell if it’s of relief or disappointment so you choose the latter), and props his head up so his elbows are supporting him. “i am too.”

“but you ate your takeout and mine.” you mirror satoru actions, propping your elbow to get a better look at his face and he blinks twice. you can’t tell if he’s lying or not.

“do you want food or not?”

with that, you roll off the bed before stating, “i’ll get the car keys!”

it’s not until you tap TOJI on the shoulder for the fifth time that he blinks and slowly comes to his senses. poor guy, he can hear your mumbles but he isn’t fully able to process what’s going on because of how drowsy he is. at this point, you’re staring at him with teary eyes and all toji can do is deadpan, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes.

“i told ya not to read the ending of that book this late, y'know. if ya read it earlier, y’could’ve had more time to recover. ” he grunts.

you sniff once and nod your head and all toji can do is roll his eyes as he brings you into a tight embrace. he can act irritated all he wants, but he finds it so entertaining that the book he recommended you to read really took this much of a toll on you. You guys went on a library date, (your idea of course), and he chose a random book for you without much thought, and boy was that a bad idea.

“they didn’t end up being together, toji.” you wail, arms wrapping around his torso even tighter.

“i know, baby. i know.” he sighs, planting a kiss on your forehead when you sniffle again.

“toji, we can never break up. if i couldn’t handle the book’s break up, i won’t handle ours.” and he only chuckles, because honestly, why is this book putting thoughts like these in your head? it’s fiction, toji thinks, but then again, it’s you we’re talking about, so he smirks and let’s out a chuckle.

“can’t get rid of me, i’m in it for the long run, babe.”

NANAMI knows you’re not asleep. if there’s one thing you know most about kento, it’s how light of a sleeper he is. that’s why, even though you’re struggling to fall asleep, you try not to twist and turn around the sheets, though that fails. it’s only when you hear him clear his throat (even though he did it on purpose just to let you know that he was awake), you decide to gently tap his shoulder. he responds immediately, shifting to his side so he can face you.

“yes, sweetheart? what’s up?” he asks, voice raspy and all. although it’s 2 am, you can perfectly make out kento’s beautiful face with the help of the moon light, via the sheer curtains in the room. you find yourself getting lost in his eyes and it’s not until he gently grabs your hands and intertwines it with his that you finally get the courage, (or at least attempt to), speak to him about your restlessness.

but he understands – he always does.

“i’m not feeling that tired either,” he winks, “let me make us some tea and talk.”

you want to tell him that you know he’s completely exhausted, but he’s already pushing the both of you out of bed and to the kitchen. you figured that he may not mind staying up for a bit more.

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redr0sewrites · 6 months ago

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Hihi! You are amazing! I’m obsessed with your DC work! What do you think the batfams favorite date activity is with they partner

🥀A/n: AAA TYY! i love this request sm- sorry it took me a hot minute to reply i am still fighting off writers block (but im winning)

🥀Cw: fluff, reader is gn, little suggestive in Bruce's part

Character(s): Dick Grayson x reader, Jason Todd x reader, Bruce Wayne x reader, Tim Drake x reader

Dick Grayson:

Dick is a somewhat social person, and i feel like he would enjoy dates that allow him to show you off. definitely prefers to go out rather than stay home!

i also think he's a little adventurous, so he's the type to enjoy theme park dates or something along those lines. loves when you're excited and just wants to make you happy

he really likes enjoying thrills with you, so he definitely wants to take you on a roller coaster at least once. he's definitely teasing you a bit if you get scared, but he thinks it's adorable if you cling to him

i also think Dick would enjoy shopping dates or just going to the mall because, again, they are very social and give him the opportunity to spoil you! he loves walking around with you, holding hands and swinging his arm and pointing out interesting things. definitely an avid window shopper, but will buy you anything you want. he also loves flirting with you in public, so expect more than a few kisses

roller skating or ice skating dates!!!! this is just a personal hc but i think Dick is like SO good at skating its uncanny. he would love to take you skating, its just so silly in his eyes and he loves being close to you.

if you (like myself) are not a talented skater, he offers to teach you but ends up teasing you a little and pulls you into the center of the rink just to mess with you. definitely challenges you to a race only to laugh at you if you fall (he helps you up tho and then genuinely teaches you)

if you are a talented skater, Dick loves trying to go as fast as you both possibly can. he's pulling you alongside him and twirling into the center of the rink as though you both are professionals, and kisses you with the most main-character energy ever

if you're ice skating and you get cold, he is absolutely offering you his jacket. he thinks it's adorable when you're cheeks get all rosy from the cold

i also think Dick is a bit of a hopeless romantic, and would want to take you out to a very cliche and aesthetic dinner. he's taking you to the best of the best, he loves dressing up just for you and spoiling you with the best food. he would meet you at your door with an entire bouquet of your favorite flowers, a cheery smile on his face in a gorgeous suit and tie. he'd definitely convince beg Bruce to let him borrow one of his cars, so Dick is driving you to dinner in the fanciest vehicle you've ever laid eyes on. once you both arrive at the restaurant, Dick REFUSES to let you do anything for yourself. he's suddenly your knight in shining armor, opening every door for you and pulling out your chair for you to sit. he's rented out the entire rooftop of the restaurant, treating you to a beautiful candlelight dinner under the stars. he's genuinely so cheesy, but in the absolute sweetest way.

Jason Todd:

Jason is a bit more introverted than Dick and would prefer to stay home a bit more. he prefers dates that don't require a lot of energy, and he just gets to spend time with you

reading dates! definitely takes you to a library or a bookstore and reads with you all day. he'll pick out a book he thinks you'll like and vice versa, and then you both spend the rest of the day cuddled up in some nook reading together.

Jason loves talking to you about books and would read anything you recommend him. a lot of the time during these dates you both will end up reading the same book, with you curled up on his lap. he always checks to make sure you're ready before turning the page, and loves getting to hold you close.

similiar to this, i also think Jason would enjoy reading to you. he loves curling up with you in bed, and reading to you while you lay on top of his chest

cafe dates are definitely another favorite of his. Jason likes getting to sit with you over a cup of coffee and just talk about any and everything. you are truly his favorite person to be around, and even when it's mundane he still enjoys your company

this may be mundane, but grocery shopping with you is unironically one of his favorite dates. Jason loves helping you with domestic chores, and he loves how you take his opinions into consideration as well. its just a simple reminder that you both are a team, and you make even simple tasks worth living. Jason loves it even more if you both live together, and will occasionally smeak your favorite foods into the cart because he knows you won't indulge yourself otherwise

park dates, but only when it's not too crowded. i also see him as a fan of taking nature walks or hiking with you, just holding your hand and enjoying the scenery. loves sitting at the park with your head in his lap, listening to you ramble on and on while he admires you. would definitely pick flowers to make you a little bouquet!

gym dates, but not in a douchey gym bro way, moreso in a let's enjoy eachothers company type of way. he would never push you to workout or exercise, but he does enjoy spending time with you. he's happy to spot you in any of your workouts, and his presence definitely keeps creeps away!

finally, his last ideal date would be a picnic under the stars. whether this be at the park or on a rooftop, he loves staying up late with you and enjoying the view. after a particularly rough patrol, Jason loves just sitting with you under the stars and talking to you about any and everything on his mind. you truly are his comfort zone, and he likes his dates to express that

Bruce Wayne:

Bruce is definitely very classy, and enjoys bringing you to various gala's and parties. he loves when you dress fancy, and getting to show you off to all the fellow business people at these gatherings is certainly a bonus.

along with this, Bruce loves spoiling you. i think he's the type to take you out shopping to fancy stores you could never imagine yourself entering otherwise, buying you hundres of dollars worth of gorgeous formal wear, jewelry, and shoes. i also think he'd take you lingerie shopping, and would fund anything you wanted to buy- as long as you showed it to him... he's definitely watching you have a little fashion show in the dressing room

loves taking you to high end restaurants, elegant and classy through and through. dressed to the nines and in his nicest cologne, he always courts you like a gentleman. he doesn't care about the public eye at all, and a photo of billionaire playboy Brucie Wayne and his partner kissing in Gotham's most famous restaurant is definitely making its way into the papers.

Bruce would definitely take you to a winery or a wine tasting festival as a date. (i've personally never been, but he absolutely gives off these vibes). he'll buy you the fanciest, most expensive red wine at the venue and, while he stays sober to drive, he definitely shared a glass with you once your both home

for a more lowkey date, Bruce would definitely love to take you to the beach. just a soothing afternoon on a private island with crystal clear waters and the sun in the sky. i headcanon that he's the type to burn very easily in the sun so he'd definitely appreciate if you applied his sunscreen for him. definitely carries you into the ocean and throws you in- only to jump in after you. while he doesn't get to relax very often, he definitely enjoys the quality time spent with you.

Bruce would love to take you to theatre performances or shows of the similar variety! whether it's a famous ballet or a musical performance, there's something so lovely and romantic about him taking you to go see whatever your heart desires. he always gets great tickets too, with the best view.

Bruce overworks a lot, and i feel like there are times when he's practically glued to the batcomputer, unable to pull away from his work. during these times its best to distract him eith a selfcare date, which, while simple, is heavily appreciated by him. doing facemasks together and giving him a massage is the perfect opportunity for him to unwind, and he appreciates you endlessly for guiding him to rest.

movie nights!!!! wayne manor doesn't have a movie theatre for nothing. Bruce very rarely gets a night off, but when he does he spends it curled up with you watching your favorite films. theres something so domestic about it, and he finds it adorable when you fall asleep on him

all in all, i feel like Bruce would enjoy a wide variety of dates. a lot of his preferred dates would probably just be whatever you want to do, and he's very flexible when it comes to your schedule. he cares about you a lot, and your input is important.

Tim Drake:

arcade dates- i said what i said. its my own personal headcanon that Tim is like insanely skilled at any type of video game or puzzle, so arcades are a very fitting date for you both. Tim loves getting to win you prizes and show off his skills. he is insanely strategical about anything, even something as simple as the claw machine, and somehow he always wins. you swear he's blessed by the arcade gods or something but, hey, you aren't complaining, not when you're carrying at least 6 plushies he's won for you!

sleepovers, except neither of you are doing much sleeping. Tim is a horrible workaholic and insomniac, but having you nearby helps to ease his mind. he loves just cuddling you while he works, soothing his stress and eventually helping him doze off. loves falling asleep on your chest or being the little spoon, theres something so cozy about being taken care of that just eases him right to sleep.

aquarium dates! he loooves going to the aquarium with you and looking at all of the unique fish and marine life. takes a lot of candid photos of you admiring the fish, and listens to you ramble about all of your marine knowledge (if u didn't have a marine biology hyperfixation as a kid are you even real? /j). he thinks its endearing how excited you get, and certainly enjoys watching the animals. i think his favorites would be the octopus exhibit or the penguin exhibit, but don't ask me why. i also think he's a huge fan of botanical garden dates or just gardens in general.

study dates! Tim isn't a natural at studying (same tbh) so he's a bit unsure about the idea of studying alongside you, but grows to love it. he would help you make flashcards or practice, and in return you help him with cases and red robin related work.

coffee shop or caffe dates! unlike Bruce, Tim cares a bit more about the press and his image so he would probably choose a more private area to dine with you. he loves getting brunch with you when taking a break from work, and seperating himself from the stressors of the day. it makes him feel almost civilian, and he loves getting to spend time with you

definitely takes you to all of Wayne Enterprises galas and events. he used to hate them, but now that you're by his side he begins to enjoy them just a bit more. getting to see you all dressed up is certainly a bonus, and he feels pride in knowing that your his and he's yours. brags about you endlessly to lots of other business people and fucking LOVES matching outfits with you. you cannot tell me this man would not match his tie to your outfit. he loves it.

another one whos a fan of movie marathons, and will try to pull an all nighter with you. you both always try to compete to see who can stay up the longest, but he wins most of the time. Tim is also absolutely eating like all of the snacks, and loves stealing your food. he's a (lovable) little shit

art show or museum dates- Tim adores these type of dates. there's something both so romantic and so casual about admiring the beautiful artwork with you by his side, and he loves discussing your favorite pieces. he takes a lot of photographs and just loves looking at all of the exhibits. if theres any romance paintings he kisses you in fromt of them and blushes like crazy. he's a romantic at heart.

overall, dates with Tim aren't very high energy, but they're very romance oriented. he's very expressive about his love for you and wants you to know his feelings are genuine

AA HOPE U ENJOYED! this took way too long and got a lot longer than expected tbh- i love them all so much aaaaaa- PLEEEASE SEND IN SOME DC REQUESTS ESP (but not limited to) FOR TIM I LITERALLY HAVE NONE 😭

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odoraful · 6 months ago

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𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐄

content: rafayel x gn!reader; reader is scared of the ocean but hasn't told rafayel about it; following the events of ch7 so minor spoilers!; established relationship; mild hurt but lots of comfort; raf being patient and understanding <3; 1.2k words

a/n: listening recommendation for when you’re reading is zora's domain (night) from botw ⛲️ the soothing water level music really helped me get in the feel for writing this piece hehe

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You fully intended on telling him. Ever since the battle on Hat Island—when you were swept deep beneath the currents, breath slowly leaving you before Rafayel pulled you to the surface—the very thought of being near the ocean made your chest tighten. However, with the sparkle in his eyes each time he counted down the days before your beach getaway, you kept pushing bringing the topic up later and later. He was just so excited about going, you couldn’t possibly bring his mood down. This was also one of the few times he was keen on planning in advance. Besides, how silly was it that a hunter like yourself was scared of water? So, you kept quiet about your fears, consoling yourself that you’d get away with just sitting on the sand, as far from the ocean as possible.

“Don’t tell me you’re not going into the water at a beach?” Rafayel asked.

You lowered your novel, peering at him from above the top edge of the book. He was standing directly in front of you—hands on his hips and a pout on his face.

“You can go in without me. I think I’ll just sit back here and get some reading done.”

You tried to keep your voice as casual as you could.

“Puh-lease,” he enunciated, “You can read anywhere, but the ocean is only ever in one spot!”

Emphasising his point, he gestured wide towards the crystalline blue before the two of you. Though he was likely showcasing the brilliance of the scene, when you gazed out at the endless expanse of water, the sight left you queasy.

You covered up your uneasiness with a light laugh.

“I might join you a little later. You go first.”

Rafayel quirked a brow as you lifted you book up again, covering your eyes. It was unlike you to be so unenthusiastic on a date like this. Perhaps you just needed a little nudge.

You sensed Rafayel approaching your side, and you were suddenly hoisted from the ground. The movement made your book tumble from your hands, fortunately landing on the beach towel rather than the sand. He scooped you up into his arms, flushed against his chest. His skin was warm from basking in the sun as one hand wrapped against your back and the other below your knees. You cried out his name in surprise, staring up at the mischievous smirk on his face. Your stomach dropped realising exactly what he was about to do.

Fear seized you as he carried you closer to the water, just where the waves met the shore. Everything Rafayel was saying as you were in his arms faded away with the rapid beating of your heart in your ears.

Rafayel halted immediately as he felt you unexpectedly tense up. Looking down, he saw your eyes scrunched closed, hands balled up close to your chest. The smile on his face fell. Overwhelmed with concern, he turned you away from the water, cradling you close in his arms. Reassurances and apologies were cooed softly into your ear (Shh I’m here. Everything will be okay, I’m really sorry), releasing you from that momentary numbness.

“Are you feeling better?”

Moving to sit beside you, he brushed any errant hair strands away from your face. You nod, staring down at your lap. Shame bubbled inside you. Your silence twisted Rafayel’s heart.

“You should have told me you didn’t like the water.”

“I know… it’s just that you were so excited. I didn’t want to ruin this day," you admitted. You shuffled your feet in the sand, feeling the grains beneath your toes. “I know the ocean means a lot to you.”

Rafayel leaned forward, trying to meet your eyes. “But it’s no good if you’re not having any fun either.”

Instinctively, you turned to meet his gaze. Violet eyes brimmed with compassion. The tension slowly eased from your body like waves receding from the shoreline.

“I feel like such a villain almost throwing you into the water,” Rafayel added with a shake of his head.

The corners of you lips twitched, your spirits returning to you at his half-joke.

“It was a little evil of you,” you admitted with a soft chuckle.

Hearing you laugh was a victory for him.

“Will you let me have my redemption arc then?”

Your brows furrowed, wondering what imaginative thing your boyfriend had thought of.

“We can work on your fear together if you’re willing to,” he offered. “I won’t make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with, you can trust me.”

You had been so worried up until that point that he would be offended by your feelings. However, though the artist may be quick to tease you, the very last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. Besides, who better than a Lemurian himself to help you adjust to the ocean?

As expected, it took small steps. Rafayel never let go of your hand during the process. First, you simply watched the water together, getting used to the rich scent of salt. The scent that had once had been suffocating now filled your lungs and refreshed your airways as Rafayel wove tales of a kingdom below the sea. He also spouted a surprising number of facts about sea animals (He kept commenting on the silly smile on your face as he spoke. You couldn’t help but notice that many of these ‘facts’ he seemed to speak anecdotally about).

Then, he gently led you to the water—just until the waves caressed his and your ankles. You gasped at the coldness, body locking in place. Your mind couldn’t help but thrust itself back to being pulled beneath the currents—the icy water numbing you. Rafayel’s hand was your anchor to reality. Warm and assuring, he squeezed your hand. A wordless signal. I’m here for you, you’re safe. Although you were probably not ready to swim in it just yet, you were confident enough to let the foamy waves lap around your calves. The water tickled your skin, playful in their greeting. It reminded you of a certain someone.

You ended the day by collecting shells along the sand. Rafayel described them as little gifts the ocean was bringing you to say goodbye. Careful inspection was required for each shell before he placed them in your hands. You were left with a handful of shells in a myriad of unique shapes and colours. “These would make pretty pendants,” you said, holding them up to the light. He hummed in agreement, already thinking about all the different jewellery pieces he could create that would look perfect on you.

The sun hugged the horizon, its glow illuminating the water. The sea turned into a glittering spectacle like thousands of rhinestones. Your jaw dropped at the sight. Too mesmerised by the landscape, you didn’t notice Rafayel admiring your expression. Whilst the view was magical, it was nothing compared to seeing the pure wonder in your eyes. Maybe next time, he would offer to take you to watch the sun rise on the beach as well.

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#odorawrites #love and deepspace #l&ds #lads #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace x reader #l&ds x reader #lads x reader #rafayel love and deepspace #lads rafayel #l&ds rafayel #rafayel x reader #l&ds rafayel x reader #lads rafayel x reader #rafayel fluff

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zoppa682 · 3 months ago

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For any nonhumans struggling with species dysphoria, I want to help you all as much as I can. I've been experiencing it all week. It can be quite exhausting and put you in a lot of distress, in my case. X(

Here are some tips I'd recommend to help:

1. Mimic the diet of your kintype/theriotype. You are a shark? Eat seafood. A dragon? Maybe try to burn some food a little (or turn it black like my own preference if you want). You kin a character from [Insert source]? Try recreating foods/dishes from their world or dimension.

2. Listen to relatable music. I'd recommend making a playlist of any songs that feel species affirming/euphoric, or even echo that dysphoria further, therefore turning it relatable. (Few of my favorites are Bones by Imagine Dragons, Control by Halsey, Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land by MARINA, Momento Mori by Fish in a Birdcage, among other songs that feel therian coded to me).

3. Do vocals. Howling, barking, screeching, or roaring are very relieving if you are in the correct space to do them! If you are in a quite space or do not want to out yourself to anyone, try purring, growling, hissing, or other unnoticeable sounds. You have an object kintype? Mimic the sounds of the object, like beeping, clicking, etc. (I personally make microwave sounds just because it is fun). Recite voice lines of your kintype from the source they are in. Mimic their voice and volume to match.

4. Move and physically act like your kintype/theriotype. Quadrobics, mimic the flapping of wings, walk bidepedally, whatever you do, turn your mannerisms and motion to reflect your kintype/theriotype.

5. Dress like your kintype/theriotype. Is your kintype a character? Cosplay them, or mimic their clothing style, clothing color, hairstyle, etc. If they have tattoos, scars, or patterns on their body, copy them on your physical form with paint or pens. (PLEASE USE NON TOXIC MATERIALS. STUFF SAFE FOR YOUR HUMAN SKIN.) Are you a species of animal(s)? Dress in your species' colors, or, once again, paint or color yourself like it/them. Are you perhaps any other form of creature or object? You can use the same tips as the others, and another idea that works for all is that you can buy costume pieces of your kintype/theriotype. Masks, headbands, just normal clothing in general, the options really are infinite.

6. Express your dysphoria through artwork. I love doing art when I am heavily species dysphoric. Drawing, crafting masks, origami, painting, collages, all are forms of art. If you are skilled in music, then you could even create some songs of your own!

7. Go out and explore nature. This one is mainly targeted towards therians, whose types are grounded on the life on earth rather than other dimensions or universes, but just like the other methods, it can be universally used by any types of nonhumans. Collecting things is my favorite way of exploring nature. Collect rocks, shells, sticks, leaves, bugs, plants, anything that makes you feel more comfortable in your own (unfortunate) physical body. Stay grounded in the world around you and you may find the dysphoria slips away. Hiking and going on short walks can also help, building a den, smelling the scents of the outdoors. All great ideas that I personally recommend.

8. Write about your feelings. Whether you are good at expressing yourself through poetry, you keep a diary/journal, or you can project onto OCs for new backstory lore like I do, writing can truly help with any dysphoria. Not only that, but it is sometimes refreshing to come back later and read about what you were feeling before. It can serve as a great reminder that you are a powerful being and you will always overcome the feelings if you try.

9. Research about your kintype/theriotype. It does not matter if you are an animal, concept, or object from earth, a being from fantasy, or a character from the greatest book or show, you learn something new every day. So why not learn about yourself? Read books or watch animal documentaries of your theriotype(s), same thing for you otherkins and your fantasy species. Fictionkins can look up facts about themself as a character, their book, show, game, etc.

10. Talk and interact with other alterhumans/nonhumans. Remember, we are a community, and while you are experiencing horrible episodes of species dysphoria, there are many other beings going through the exact same thing at the exact same time. So why not talk to them about it? Share your experiences, help eachother cope, you may even connect with more individuals that way, building more relationships with others and meeting new beings.

11. Past life meditation. If you are a nonhuman who has a past life/lives, you may find comfort in meditation, where you can truly tap into what you once were, and still are in this life as well. Look to the forgotten, and turn in to remembered. Open up your past and live over again.

12. Listen to sounds. Nature sounds, voices of other characters you know from your world, vocals or sound effects of your kintype. These are all good options to turn to if you want to feel at ease with yourself.

13. Let your emotions out. Sometimes this is all you really need to do when species dysphoria hits hard. Cry, bite things, claw at pillows, LET IT OUT. There is absolutely no problem in being yourself and expressing your heavy emotions in your own, unique, nonhuman way. You may find you feel much better after.

That's all I've got, but I hope whoever/whatever reads this far has an amazing day/night. You are an amazing being, thank you for embracing yourself and living authentically. <3

#therian #therian community #therianthropy #alterhumanity #alterhuman #alterhuman community #fictionkin #objectkin #conceptkin #nonhuman #species dysphoria #otherkin #otherkin community #otherkinity

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gr1mstar · 1 year ago

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I'm a huge Dark romance book girlie

So can you write LDS boys finding out what she was reading like they had no idea reader has a fascination with dark romance books with psychotic ml or villains

I'M BETTER `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

note. i'm also a huge fan of darl romance books so i had fun writing this. thank you for your request love. also, i'm sorry for the wait, i hope you like it.

contains. love and deepspace boys x reader, fluff, sfw.

ZAYNE

you both had this hobby of reading, so it wasn't strange when zayne found you on the sofa in the living room of your apartment, reading a new book.

the only difference between you was that zayne read books related to medicine and history, while you liked to read romance books. zayne knew that you weren't into history or medicine, so he didn't bother to explain in detail what he read, but he was more satisfied listening to you complain that the two protagonists are stupid that they don't see that they love each other others.

at least zayne liked listening to your stories until they disappeared. suddenly, you started not telling him anything.

so curiously, when you put the book down to go drink a glass of water from the kitchen, he took the book you were reading at the moment, wanting to see what makes you stop sharing the plot of the story.

after some time, making your way back to the living room and seeing zayne with the book in his hand, his face red and a shocked expression on his face, you started to laugh subtly.

"what is it? what's with that expression?"

speechless, zayne puts the book down, moving closer to you.

"to understand that this is how you want me to be too?" he said, placing his hands on either side of your waist.

"what?"

"to talk to you like this… to tie you to the bed with something and make you stop walking the next day? to be crazy about you? what do you say?"

XAVIER

seeing you blushing in front of the book you were reading, xavier couldn't help but ask you what you were reading.

"ah, just a romance book." was your answer, returning to reading, the blush on your cheeks not disappearing.

not satisfied with the answer, xavier sighs and sits back with his head in your lap. thinking that he had nothing to lose, in a second the book you were reading now was in xavier's hands, his eyes on the lines you had just read.

"what is this?" he asked, flipping through a few pages and then looking at the cover. a smile appeared on his face. "do you like this stuff?" he continued, handing you the book back.

you didn't answer now the blush in your cheeks being much more obvious than before, your gaze moving down, avoiding his.

"i understand that you like antagonists more than heroes, right? someone obsessed with you?" xavier said, approaching you with big steps, now being a few millimeters away from you. bending down, his face was directly in front of yours, and with the help of a hand he forced you to look at him, grabbing your chin and turning your head.

"you're lucky, princess. i can be mean sometimes, but you have to take responsibility for it."

RAFAYEL

rafayel never understood what you like so much about books. it is a fictional story, with a fictional person. why waste your time reading about them when you have him, alive and very sexy, in front of you.

this, out of curiosity, he tried to read one day, when he had no painting to complete.

getting into bed, with a cup of coffee 'for energy', he started reading the last book you recommended, not expecting what would happen next.

the hours passed quickly, and in the middle of the book Rafayel lay down, looking at the time in wonder. the whole day had passed, and all he had done was read.

"i lived to see this too." he heard, immediately seeing that it was you at the door. "are you reading?" you asked, laying down on the bed next to him.

"let's say. i was curious why you like it so much." Rafael answered, leaving the book on the bedside table and taking you in his arms.

"and did you like it?"

he didn't say anything, taking his face into the crack between your shoulder and neck, inhaling the aroma of your body. he didn't want to admit that he liked the book, being too ashamed to tell you that now he understood why you liked it.

"so you like it." you said, laughing lightly.

"no. I'm better."

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inky-duchess · 1 year ago

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Fantasy Guide to Creating Your Own Language

When writer's set out to world-build, language has a huge role in creating new cultures and lending a sense of realism to your efforts. A world and people just feel more real when language is involved. As the old Irish proverb says "tír gan teanga, tír gan anam”. A country without a language, is a country without a soul. So how can we create one?

Do Your Homework

First things off, you should start by studying languages. Nobody is asking you to get fluent but it's important to understand the basic mechanics of language. You will start to see certain tricks to language, how verbs are conjugated and how gender effects certain words. It will be easier to make up your own when you know these tricks. For example, in Irish one doesn't scold but "gives out to" - "a thabhairt amach". In German, numbers are arranged differently to the English with the smallest digit arranged before the tens for example 21 - Einsundzwanzig. By immersing yourself in an array of different languages (I recommend finding ones close to how you want your language to sound), you can gain the tools necessary for creating a believable language.

Keep it Simple

Nobody expects you to pull a Tolkien or channel the powers of David J. Peterson (hail bisa vala). You're not writing a dictionary of your con-lang. You will probably use only a handful of words in your story. Don't over complicate things. A reader will not be fluent in your con-lang and if they have to continually search for the meaning of words they will likely loose patience.

Start Small

When you're learning a language, you always start with the basics. You do the exact same when writing one. Start with introductions, the names of simple objects, simple verbs (to be, to do, to have for example) and most importantly your pronouns (you will use these more than any other word, which is why I always start with them). Simple everyday phrases should always be taken care of first. Build your foundation and work your way up, this is a marathon not a race.

Music to the Ears

If your creating a new language, you're more than likely doing it phonetically. Sound is important to language and especially a con-lang because you want to trick your reader into thinking of a real language when reading the words on the page. I suggest sitting down and actually speak your words aloud, get the feel of them on the tongue to work out the spelling. Spellings shouldn't be too complicated, as I said before the readers aren't fluent and you want to make it easier for them to try it out themselves.

Also when you're creating the con-lang, it's important to figure out how it sounds to an unsuspecting ear. If a character is walking down a street and hears a conversation in a strange language, they will likely describe to the reader what it sounds like. It might be guttural or soft, it might be bursque or flowery. It's always interesting to compare how different languages flow in the ear.

Writing in Your Language

Now that you've written your language and created some words, you will want to incoperate them into your story. The way most writers do this is by italicising them. As a reader, I generally prefer authors not to go too overboard with their con-lang. Swathes of con-lang words might intrigue a reader but it can leave them confused as well. It is better to feed con-lang to your readers bit by bit. In most published works writer's tend to use words here and there but there are few whole sentences. For example in A Game Of Thrones by George RR Martin, has actually only a handful of short sentences in Dothraki despite the language being prevalent throughout the book. Daenerys Targaryen pronounces that "Khalakka dothrae mr’anha!"/"A prince rides inside me!" and it's one of the only sentence we actually see in actual Dothraki.

There's also nothing stopping you from just saying a language has been spoken. If you're not comfortable writing out the words, then don't make yourself. A simple dialogue tag can do the trick just fine.

Know your Words

I do recommend keeping an actual record of your words. Make a dictionary if you want or a simple list of words you need. This is one of the most entertaining aspects of world building, have fun with it, go mad if you like. Also here's a short list of questions you can ask yourself about language in general which might help your juices flow.

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laughing-with-god · 1 year ago

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These Things Take Time (Yandere! Supernatural! Taehyung x Reader)

Synopsis: There's something wrong with your boyfriend Taehyung. At least, you think it's him.

16.5k

Trigger warnings: yandere behavior, psychological gaslighting, violence, gore, some heavy making out, strong language, AFAB reader (she/her) I'm sure I'm missing some but you know me and what I write lol

Authors note: just a real quick thank you to @bigbuffjoonie and @mustardpop for having beta read and brainstormed with me literally a year ago about this fic that I never published until now.

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He passionately thrusted her against the wall, mouthing at her neck while muttering disgusting things that he was going to do to her.

It was foul…

It was taboo…

It was…..

Your fingers paused and hovered over the keyboard, the constant clicking of your writing coming to a sudden halt.

Your eyes scanned the last few lines, lips instinctively mouthing the words and checking the overall flow of the plot.

Your two main characters were about to fuck each other’s brains out after a long ‘will they or won’t they’ that spanned well over a dozen chapters.

There should be a feeling of torture, a feeling of relief, a feeling of frenzied lust that just couldn’t contain itself anymore and combusted within the contents of these pages.

That is what you desperately wanted your loyal readers to experience when they get to this scene.

Yet when reading the long-awaited buildup, you felt nothing.

You cared for every character you created like a mother does their child, them getting their happy endings was just as important to you as it was to them. So why did you feel so numb and dissociated from everything you’ve been typing the past hour?

You released a disillusioned sigh and leaned back into your chair. Your eyes stung from staring at a screen for so long and your limbs ached to be stretched with hours of immobility.

Writer’s block was a bitch.

Unlike other skills, writing was one of the few expertise that working harder at it won’t guarantee a better outcome. You could type away until your fingers were bruised and bloody, but it doesn’t mean anything you wrote would be worth shit. Writing was a talent and it came and went as it pleased. And right now it was gone.

Which left you very depressed and your editor very pissed.

You gave up the fight and reluctantly closed your laptop. Then stood to your full height, to give your back a much-needed stretch.

‘I tried today. And that’s okay. I’ll try again tomorrow.’ You thought to yourself, half heartedly taking your therapist’s advice to acknowledge your efforts and not just the outcomes.

When in a creative slump, it has been said that reading other works can be a source of inspiration. Can’t be a good writer yourself, then go out and read a good writer. With this thought in mind, you slowly exited your office and descended down the stairs.

Last week your mom sent you a book she recommended, and you’ve been so busy trying to finish your own novel that you just tossed it somewhere and haven’t touched or looked for it since. Though, you were almost certain you caught sight of it on the coffee table yesterday.

When you stepped into the living room, you spotted a familiar figure standing by the large bay window.

The sight tugged a small fond smile onto your face.

Taehyung was your boyfriend of six months.

He was strikingly attractive, tall, kind and clearly didn’t know his own worth because not only was he dating you, but he also agreed to move into this secluded farmhouse while you tried to finish your book. He assured that he could use this time and space to focus on his paintings as well, but you knew deep down he just didn’t want to leave you alone out in the middle of nowhere.

Right now only his profile was facing you, his alluring feline eyes staring at the raining scene outside, dark brows furrowed in heavy thought. He looked to be biting on his lower lip, a habit you’ve never seen before, but you supposed you two have only been dating for a few months so there was probably a whole world of little quirks you didn’t know of yet.

The scene was a bit intense, as you weren’t used to your usually cheerful boyfriend looking so ponderous. Yet you shrugged it off and just assumed he was most likely brainstorming his next painting. Taehyung was your first artist boyfriend and your friends did warn you that they could be a bit dramatic.

You quickly surveyed the room and indeed located the book on the coffee table. While reaching for it you called out, “Hey love?”

Taehyung snapped his neck at a speed too fast for your liking, instantly facing you with eyes wide and blown out in what you could only assume was shock.

You giggled, thinking he was too absorbed in his own world that he probably just now noticed your presence.

“I know I said I wanted pasta for dinner but how about we order some chinese instead?” You asked. Taehyung didn’t say anything, eyes still wide in unknown revelation, entirely unmoving. You continued, “This weather makes me not want to do anything, and I know you complain about the delivery time but we could just reheat the food if it gets here cold.”

It seemed like forever but Taehyung eventually nodded.

He then turned to face the window again.

You inwardly sighed and guessed he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of chinese. He always complained that you didn’t take care of yourself and how you needed home cooked meals rather than greasy takeout. But when creatively burnt out like this, you tended to just reach for the doordash because the act of cooking seemed entirely too much for you.

Hoping to butter him up, you tipped toed from behind and wrapped your arms around him. You nuzzled your face into his back and took a deep breath, enjoying the familiar scent of his outrageously expensive cologne. His body seemed to melt into your hold, tense posture suddenly limp and calm.

You reached up and pecked his cheek, grinning when you caught sight of his lips twitching upwards. Harmless manipulation complete, you trudged out the room with a lukewarm “Thanks honey!”

You skipped up the stairs and made a left into a hallway, quickly getting into the bedroom and preparing to plop into the heavenly crumpled mess of sheets and blankets, when an unexpected sound caused you to still.

The front door was opening.

Afraid of a possible home invasion, you rushed out to see what was happening.

The door was wide open and emerging into the home…was Taehyung.

His hair and jacket was drenched from the rain, four or so heaping grocery bags in his hold as he looked up the stairs at you with a tired smile.

“Hey baby, can you give me a hand with some of this? I got some sauce for the pasta and picked up some other stuff we were running low on.”

Time stood still.

Your jaw dropped in bewilderment.

Your mind struggling to process this odd collapse of reality.

The nearest grocery store was, at its quickest, still a twenty-minute drive into town.

There was just no way Taehyung was able to leave and get back in the same time it took for you to get up the stairs and into your room.

No one can be in two places at once.

What the fuck was going on?

You just saw him. You just talked to him. You just smelled him. You just touched him.

Taehyung’s gaze worriedly ran up and down your face, correctly detecting that something was dreadfully wrong. He kicked the door closed behind him and rather ungracefully dropped the bags, hastily stepping over some of the falling items to race up the steps and take you in his hold.

“Y/n? Baby what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! Did something happen while I was gone?” He fretted.

“I-w-what-you-j-just-living room…” You stammered, not even being able to bring yourself to voice what was happening.

“What? What about the living room? You’re not making any sense.”

You gulped, looking up at him with fear. “T-Tae, I could’ve sworn I just saw you in the living room. I talked to you.”

Your boyfriend’s face dropped.

“Y/n, get in the bedroom and lock the door behind you.”

You irritably huffed while blinking away oncoming tears, realizing Taehyung didn’t quite understand what you were saying. “No! Not like an intruder! It was you.”

“I’m right here Y/n. I just got back from the market. I haven’t been home in the past hour. There’s no way you just saw me in this house.” He slowly explained, as if you were having some mental breakdown and needed to be talked off the ledge.

Your temper rose. “No shit Kim Taehyung! That’s why I’m scared! Do you have a twin brother or something? Or did you come into the living room before going back to the car to get the groceries?”

Taehyung backed away from you, clearly put off by your outburst. “No? First off, you know I’m an only child. Secondly, why would I come in and let you talk to me before going back out in the pouring rain, bring in groceries and then pretend I have no idea what you’re talking about when you said you saw me in the house just now?”

You glared up at him, now feeling foolish for even being scared in the first place of something that most definitely had a logical explanation.

Your boyfriend always had a more playful side than you and this was most likely the first trick he was trying to play in your very young relationship.

“I told you I don’t like pranks, Taehyung. You can pull them on your friends all you want but you promised to never pull one on me.”

He threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “I’m not pranking you! It probably was an intruder who looked kinda like me and instead of letting me go and investigate, you're arguing with me?”

“It wasn’t an intruder! He didn’t take anything!”

Taehyung laughed incredulously, “Great, you're defending some robber over your own boyfriend now? I almost feel jealous.”

“There’s nothing to be jealous over because the guy was you!” You exploded.

“Which isn’t possible!”

“Go look then!” You relented.

Taehyung didn’t need to be told twice. He swiftly ran down the stairs and went through the entire house, searching for an unseen man who managed to trick his girlfriend into thinking he was him.

He found no such person.

It was only while you both wordlessly unpacked the groceries while licking the wounds of your little spat did Taehyung make a point that chilled you to the bone.

“Y/n, when you saw me…how did I look?”

You raised a brow at him. “I don’t know? You looked just fine.”

“Okay…and your working theory is I parked outside and came in, talked to you, then went back out, just to enter through the front again like nothing happened?”

You meekly shrugged, “Yeah I guess that would be a good trick.”

Your clever boyfriend pointed at the window, where it was still raining heavily. “I would've been soaked then, Y/n.”

That was the first incident.

— Dinner that night was a tense affair.

At least until Taehyung solemnly apologized for being so bad at hiding his true identity.

He then fessed up to being the Korean version of The Flash.

Against yourself, you bursted out laughing.

Maybe it was all the anxiety of the day that made you loopy, or your desperate need to just return to normal but you apologized for snapping and blamed your overactive writer's imagination for everything.

Taehyung said it was okay and that you actually looked hot when angry, you knew for a fact you didn’t but took the compliment nonetheless and suggested an early night in.

And just like that your first couple fight was over.

Yet that night when you were in the arms of your slumbering boyfriend, with his peaceful snores rumbling in your ear, all you could think about was the other Taehyung.

You regretfully lied to your boyfriend.

You knew for a fact that it wasn’t your imagination.

You were never the type of writer who got so immersed in your work that you began imagining things and confusing them for reality. If anything, you were too grounded in reality. In addition to this, you highly doubted that multiple weeks of writer’s block would even allow for such a vivid mirage to occur.

And the most damning evidence of all, if it was your imagination…why would your mind conjure up the exact replica of your boyfriend? The very man you live with and see everyday for hours on end? Wouldn’t it be a character from your book? Or at least someone you haven’t seen in a while?

It all didn’t make sense, but you didn’t have enough information to say what it was, you just knew what it wasn’t.

You rolled over and buried your face into Taehyung’s chest, practically praying for the mystery to soon be over and solve itself quickly.

It was most likely the overthinking and looming dark corners of the bedroom, but you began to feel like someone was watching you through the small gap in your ajar bedroom door.

– A few days passed and you have almost forgotten about the incident.

I mean, maybe not entirely but you were at least willing to chalk it up to a freak incident.

Scrolling through some discussion boards online showed that your story was actually pretty tame to what other unexplainable experiences some people have had. At least the other Taehyung didn’t try to scare or hurt you. It just seemed like he was doing his own thing really, like he was lost in his own world staring out that window. Thus you concluded that you weren’t in danger, and it therefore wasn’t worth freaking out about.

Mainly because your editor was on your ass and there was nothing productive about thinking of him when you were already so late on a deadline.

Naturally, you attempted to throw yourself into your writing, which was proving to be as fruitless as ever. Yet you knew giving your editor anything was better than nothing, leading you to sending half-assed drafts to him and enduring long calls about how your writing was okay, but not great.

You and Taehyung have been off too.

There was no more fighting or even words exchanged about the fiasco. However there still was an uneasiness between you two. You doubted that Taehyung believed your imagination excuse, but you also knew that he didn’t trust your original recollection of events either. Your boyfriend sort of walked on eggshells around you, almost as if you’d somehow think he was the imposter whenever he’d step into the room. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little offended by it.

Luckily, Taehyung was currently immersed with his art, rarely leaving his little workspace. You wished you could say the same but you felt like you were simply writing in circles without actually getting anywhere. It was hard to not be jealous, but at least you were given some space away from him after a rather unresolved fight.

Meanwhile, you were planning to take a day or two off of writing, to just let your mind wander and relax so that maybe the next time you sat behind a laptop you could actually produce something worthwhile.

Of course it would just so happen that it would fall on the very day you get sick.

Waking up that morning you felt feverish and lightheaded, telling yourself that you could just use fifteen more minutes of sleep and you’d probably feel better.

You woke up five hours later; feeling even more feverish, lightheaded, and now nauseous.

You trudged downstairs to the kitchen and popped back some painkillers with a glass of water, already fantasizing about getting back into your warm and comfy bed once again.

Except what could make your bed even warmer and comfier? Taehyung.

Your boyfriend was always the more affectionate one between you two, you often practically had to push him away when you were trying to get work done. But now that you were willingly going to ask for his affection, there was no way he’d let you go uncuddled.

Any awkwardness in the relationship was long forgotten as you stomped towards his workspace, a demand to be held heavy on your tongue. You were too sick and exhausted to try to navigate relationship politics, but the whole point of a boyfriend was that he was supposed to provide attention on demand, right?

You reached his door and feebly knocked, trying to be polite to his artistic process and not just barge in.

You heard some shuffling on the other side and soon enough your boyfriend was in front of you. Taehyung hadn’t shaved his face in days, a faint goatee gracing his already intimidatingly handsome face. His black hair was messy and fluffy, a gold chain gracing his neck and drawing attention to his lack of shirt and gray sweatpants.

He grinned at you, “What’s up baby?”

You pouted up at him, momentarily not even ashamed to resort to such cheap tricks, “I feel sick and want to be cuddled back to sleep.”

“Aww poor thing.” He crooned while leaning against the doorframe. “Why don’t you head back up to bed and I’ll be up as soon as I can? I just finished a sketch and really need to focus on the next few steps before I can quit for the day.”

You huffed, kind of annoyed that he wouldn’t even take a break to hold you.

He rolled his eyes at your reaction, “Don’t look at me like that, honey. When the muse strikes, I gotta paint. Otherwise I don’t know when I’ll get the next chance for inspiration. You understand, right?”

“Yeah, I’m just really crabby and being held sounded really good.”

Taehyung chucked, muttering to himself a “cute” before leaning forward and pecking your lips. “I promise I’ll try to be quick. Go drink some water and wait for me. I’ll bring you some soup when I’m done.”

You just nodded and left him to his work. Instead of the bedroom, your feet somehow led you to the living room.

Maybe you should watch some tv while Taehyung worked? You already slept a lot today and if Taehyung was gonna be in bed with you later, perhaps it was a good idea to stay up for a little bit. Besides, you’ve been avoiding this part of the house ever since the incident and you needed to get comfortable in your own living room eventually.

Such a reminder of that rainy day caused you to cast a wary glance at the bay window, oddly feeling both relief and annoyance that nothing was there.

You plunked down onto the couch and wrapped a throw blanket around you, searching your usual streaming services for some comfort show to watch.

It was halfway through an episode of some show you’ve already watched countless times, when you heard footsteps approaching.

You looked up and saw your boyfriend, looking as cute and messy as before. Except now he held a sheepish smile on his face as he held up a steaming mug of something.

“What’s that?”

He took a seat next to you and gently handed the drink over. “Hot chocolate. I know protocol is tea whenever someone is sick, but I know how much you hate the taste.”

You fondly smiled and took the mug, flustered that he remembered such a minor detail about you. “Thank you love but you didn’t have to. You should be focusing on your work. Don’t let me distract you!”

Taehyung shook his head and threw an arm around you, holding you tight against him. He craned his neck and looked down to you, almost meeting you nose-to nose to connect his gaze with yours. Suddenly a serious expression replaced his formerly sheepish one.

“Actually, I wanted to talk.” He said, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I-I wanted to say sorry.”

“For what?”

He licked his lips, “I know we’ve been kinda out-of-sync ever since you said you saw someone and I didn’t believe you. But, it just didn’t make sense. Like, how is that possible? Whatever the case though, I shouldn’t have made you feel like you were going crazy or something.”

You raised an eyebrow, “So you believe me then?”

“Yes. I know you wouldn’t lie. I don’t know what happened but…I know you know what you saw.”

A warm feeling spread across your chest, temporarily putting your sickness on the back burner. In truth, you weren't sure if the situation even called for an apology but you felt so pampered that your boyfriend cared enough to. “I-I’m sorry too, Tae. I shouldn’t have assumed you were being mean and pranking me. Snapping at you wasn’t cool.”

Taehyung just shrugged. “Nah, I probably would’ve done the same thing.”

You secretly agreed that you were in the right but still, if he was being a big enough person to say sorry so should you. You turned your attention back to the drink in your hands, taking a sip.

You nearly moaned in pleasure when the flavor graced your taste buds.

“What did you put in this?”

“Oh just some cinnamon and-”

“Ginger.” You interrupted, knowing without a doubt that it was the other spice.

“Yup. Why? Is something wrong?” He asked, probably worried you didn’t like it.

“No! It’s perfect.” You said before gulping down more of the nostalgic hot chocolate. “When I was a kid, I had a babysitter who would make her hot chocolate with cinnamon and ginger. Mrs Fritz was her name, a really kind old lady from down the street. I was her favorite so she made hot chocolate for me all the time and watched me for free whenever my parents went out.”

Taehyung hummed, a small smile on his face as you fondly recalled one of the biggest figures of your childhood. “She must’ve had great taste.”

“Mrs. Fritz had impeccable taste.” You good-naturedly corrected with a giggle. “I miss her. When other kids wouldn’t play with me she would stay inside with me and color or read me these cool stories.”

“I would’ve played with you.” Taehyung grumbled, in all likelihood noting how you grimaced at the memory of not being all too popular as a kid.

“Haha, you definitely wouldn’t have! I was such a dork and actually hated playing outside. Kid me much rather be at home watching some old movies or something. Not to mention I was quite an ugly little girl.” You laughed.

Tae gasped dramatically, “That’s not true! You were adorable!”

“You saw like one picture of me at eight! And my mom did me all up for that picture! Trust me, I didn’t look that good at all.”

Taehyung looked like he wanted to argue further, but realizing you were right he just dropped it with an unconvincing, “Whatever you say.”

“But anyway babe, you really can go back to painting. I don’t want to keep you. If I had any inspiration right now, you wouldn’t be able to tear me away from my laptop.”

His arm tugged you even closer. “Nope, I’m alright where I’m at right now. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I left my sick girlfriend all alone?”

You blushed, logically aware that you could handle yourself but emotionally over the moon that this beautiful man didn’t want you to. Selfishly, you wanted to take advantage of his presence even if it came at the expense of his art progress. So you placed the mostly empty mug on the coffee table, fishing out your phone from your sweatpant pocket and setting it there too.

You then curled up into his side, suddenly feeling so drowsy.

Taehyung held you closer, even playing with your hair as you lost the battle with your increasingly heavy eyelids.

You felt him press his lips against your forehead in a drawn out peck, as his nose ticked the crown of your head. He inhaled deeply, his everlasting love for your shampoo revealing itself once more.

“You okay?” His baritone voice whispered.

“Yeah. I just took some medicine that’s probably making me all sleepy.” You mumbled back.

You didn’t hear anything else, just felt as he rested his head on top of yours, presumably also closing his eyes to rest.

Slowly but surely feeling the mechanisms of your brain shut down, the darkness steadily taking over as the sound of the tv became more and more distant.

A notification from your phone caused you to open a single eye, quickly scanning the screen on the coffee table.

Taebear: Hey almost done over here! Do you mind turning down the TV a bit tho? Kinda distracting :(

Before you can even gasp, the medicine-induced darkness consumed you completely, effectively and brutally knocking you out.

That was the second incident.

–

“So like I was saying, I dumped his ass because what the fuck do you mean you ‘don’t know what we are’? I met his damn parents, Y/n!”

The voice blarred over the phone speaker, as you hummed rather noncommittally. “What a jerk. You can do a whole lot better, Lisa.”

You were in the laundry room, slowly taking clothes out of the dryer and folding them as you spoke on the phone with one of your closest friends. About once a week you two would have a call and catch each other up with your lives. Although, Lisa led a much more interesting life than you and usually had a crazy story to share every week, while you just reacted to it. It was kinda like a one listener podcast, but you didn’t mind as you were always very entertained with her.

“Thank you! I don’t know where I keep finding these guys. You really got lucky with Taehyung, all the other men our age are such assholes.” She groaned.

You wanted to laugh, but at the mention of your boyfriend’s name you froze.

Not catching your silence, Lisa continued, “Anyway, how are you and Taehyung doing? What’s it like to live together only six months into a relationship?”

“Actually…we had our first fight.” You told her. “Maybe. I don’t know. It may not even be considered a fight so much as a disagreement but I’ve been feeling a little awkward.”

“Oooh, what happened?” She didn’t even try to mask her excitement.

“It…I…Something happened and he didnt…I don’t know, Lisa. I’m going to sound crazy but I feel like I’m experiencing a glitch in the matrix or some shit.”

She pushed, “Try me. Remember when I used to be a flat earther? I’ll believe anything.”

Lisa made a good point, she was always down for conspiracies and even proclaimed herself a supernatural expert. So you relented, “Okay. Look, I don’t want you to laugh at me or anything because I’m being completely honest. I’m telling you this because I desperately need theories.”

“I promise I’ll give you a theory! Just get to it!” She barked over the phone, anxiously awaiting your story.

“Um, so earlier this week I went downstairs and saw Taehyung. I talked to him about ordering out instead of cooking, hugged him then went up the stairs. Then not even a second later Taehyung came home with groceries, telling me he wasn’t in the house at all when I said I saw him.” You paused, waiting for her to interject.

“Huh…” She trailed off, stumped herself with what that could mean.

“And yesterday, I went to Tae’s workspace to try to cuddle but he said he needed a bit more time with his painting and then he’d meet me upstairs. I went to the couch to wait and he suddenly came in and apologized for not believing me earlier. We cuddled and talked then…I got a text from Taehyung asking me to turn the tv down because it was distracting him.”

You took a deep breath to calm your rising nerves, not liking how you were managing to scare yourself all over again. “Lisa, how was I in Taehyung's arms when Taehyung wasn’t even in the room with me?”

“How did this other Taehyung act? Was he any different than your actual boyfriend?”

“I mean, the first time he didn’t say a word and I left the room quickly. The second time he was so sweet and…I don’t know. Maybe even nicer than my actual boyfriend but not like suspiciously so.”

“And there’s no difference between him and Taehyung? Same height, voice, birthmarks, everything?”

“Yes.”

A brief silence as she no doubt was working with a theory. “And you’ve never had experiences like this before you moved into that farmhouse?”

“None.”

“Ah-ha! It’s probably a ghost then!” She assured triumphantly.

You, however, weren’t so sure she solved the case. “A ghost that looks exactly like my boyfriend?”

“Well, crazier things have happened. You know, scientists say that each person has around six doppelgangers out there somewhere. What if this ghost was your boyfriend's doppelganger?”

“Still, why would he act like he was my boyfriend? Like, this ghost must have a different name and background than my Taehyung so why does he go along with it whenever I call him Taehyung and treat him like a boyfriend?” You questioned.

“The afterlife can get pretty dull. The ghost is probably just bored and noticed that Taehyung looks alot like him, so he’s using that to his advantage to mess around.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” You grumbled, pissed at the prospect of you being a little plaything to a bored spirit.

“I know babe but ghosts are mostly harmless. If it really starts to bother you, maybe get a medium to move him along or whatever.” Lisa advised.

“Yeah, maybe.” – Mom: Look what I found!

The text came with a video attached, and you clicked it without thinking much.

A chubby little girl of about three to five years of age was badly hiding in a school cubby. Her mini feet sticking out and wiggling as the rest of her body was covered by a hung up winter coat. The cameraman sighed dramatically from behind the scenes, asking loudly, “Oh where could Y/n possibly be?!”

The girl giggled and a new figure slowly snuck into frame, approaching the cubby with a large grin.

The preschool teacher suddenly reached into the cubby and snatched the girl up, holding her up in the air as if the toddler was a prize of some sort. “Gotcha!”

The mini version of you laughed in her hold, kicking the air in glee. “Miss Addison you found me! You’ll find me anywhere, right?”

The young teacher nodded as she placed you on your feet. “Of course! I have a really good Y/n sense! I’ll find you anywhere.”

“Even the moon?” Innocent you asked, most likely just having learned about the star.

“Yes, I’ll find you on the moon if I have to!” Miss Addison chuckled.

The video ended and you went to type your mom a half-hearted reply, mostly inquiring how she still even had that clip after all these years.

While doing so, you caught yourself wishing that you could show this to Taehyung and prove that you were indeed not the best company as a child, your teacher had to play hide-and-seek with you because no one else would.

Yet, it wasn’t Taehyung you had that particular conversation with. Rather other Taehyung.

Or as you and Lisa had nicknamed; ghost Taehyung.

You failed to tell your boyfriend about the second incident. He woke you up an hour or so later with his promised bowl of soup, softly scolding you for never turning down the tv.

Deep inside you were sure that he was already convinced you were crazy from the first time his replica showed up. You didn’t seek to push that theory even further. Mostly because you didn’t want him to admit you to a psych ward, but also because of another glaring reason. The first time you were sure that Taehyung himself was messing with you somehow, which prompted you to accuse him, but this time around you knew for a fact he was innocent.

Instinctively, you didn’t feel threatened by the doppelganger spirit. If anything you sorta wished he’d pop up again with a ginger-cinnamon hot chocolate. It was kinda weird that he was acting like your boyfriend when he wasn’t, but he didn’t try to be too intimate with you or anything. The lease on the farmhouse was only twelve months so you could put up with a friendly ghost for a while if need be.

The only creepy thing was that you weren’t sure how you were going to tell if you were talking to the real Taehyung or not. Thankfully, the sick day incident seemed to be the last one, the last few days being almost eerily mundane.

The door to your bedroom suddenly slammed open, revealing your beaming boyfriend.

He held up a champagne bottle with one hand and two glasses in the other. “Guess what just happened!”

You sat up in bed and placed your phone on the nightstand as he giddily approached you. “What? Are we celebrating something?”

“Only the Bauhaus Gallery agreeing to schedule a showing for my latest collection!”

You jumped up in surprise, instantly wrapping your arms around him and plastering his face with kisses. “Oh my god! Tae! That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you! When is it?!”

“Next Friday at eight.” He chuckled through your kisses, fully basking in your attention.

The Bauhaus gallery was an uppity German gallery in town that apparently served as a who's who in the world of painting. Personally, you didn’t get what the big deal was, but Taehyung made it one of his career goals to have a show there. He always said that his career would really take off if he could showcase his work at such a place.

You pulled back and began thinking out loud as Taehyung worked on the bottle, “Wow, okay! I need to get a dress. And we should invite some friends to support you. Oh! Namjoon and his wife would probably try to buy a painting so we should see if they’re free-”

Taehyung cut you off with the resounding pop of the bottle, “Yeah yeah, we can plan that all out later. Right now I just wanna celebrate with my pretty girlfriend please.”

You quieted down and held the glasses as he poured. He then placed the bottle aside, took a glass and held it up for you to clink. You did so while your boyfriend declared, “To my collection and girlfriend; both beautiful and priceless!”

“You better announce that again at the afterparty!” You laughed, covering your blush.

You both finished the drinks rather quickly, him with a refreshing “ahh” and you with a cringe. Champagne really was overrated in your opinion, having no idea why it was the token celebratory drink. The glasses were then shoved somewhere aside, courtesy of Tae.

You laid back down in the bed, Taehyung unhurriedly following suit and even climbing on top of you at a leisurely pace.

Taehyung’s face was now inches away from yours, his every breath tickling your skin. His previous mood of joy shifted into something more…sultry. Cat eyes darkened, fully taking you in with a steadily growing smirk. The artist licked this bottom lip in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it speed, before quirking one brow up in faux inquiry. His voice was low and husky, purring into your ears, “You know, it’s been a while since we’ve fucked.”

You snorted, “Gee, that’s hard to believe when you put me in the mood like that.”

“You like a man who's upfront.” He shrugged, not wasting a second more as he leaned down to slowly melt his lips against yours.

The intimate sensation felt almost foreign, the last few days having only been filled with obligatory pecks due to you two being so caught up in your work. You almost forgot how talented he was at making you feel special.

You kissed back just as slowly, feeling the intensity of his lips and taking the time to reacquaint yourself with them. It was gentle, deep, and meaningful. He kissed you gingerly, carefully, but that’s not what you wanted. Not after all this time. Pent-up sexual frustration caused you to knot your fists in his shirt, pulling him harder against you.

Taehyung groaned softly, low in his throat while encircling you in his arms to gather you against him. You two rolled over in the bed, tangled in the sheets, still locked at the lips.

His tongue slips into your mouth, tender but demanding. You swirl your tongue against his, moaning into his mouth as his hands snuck up to twist in your hair and grip you impossibly closer. Taehyung’s slight stubble prickles you, but somehow the extra sensation just excites you even more. Your boyfriend's lips pull back and meet their ultimate home at your neck, him now mouthing fervently at the sensitive nerves there as you gasped for air.

As you felt hotter and hotter, Taehyung answered your unsaid prayer and positioned his thigh between your legs, obscenely brushing against the place you needed him most. Knowing you like the back of his hand, he purposefully tensed his thigh as you not-so-subtly grinded against it, all the while he sucked and nibbled at the spot just below your ear.

A tug at your clothes.

Softly biting your earlobe, he whispered, “Be a good girl for me and take this shit off.”

Just when you were about to oblige, an unexpected sound cut through all the haze and caused you both to freeze.

It sounded like a…bang?

From somewhere deep within the house.

It was so loud and shrill, it effortlessly echoed off the walls of your humble bedroom. If you had to describe it, it was as if someone had just thrown a bowling ball with all their might.

Undoubtedly snapping into protector mode, Taehyung immediately jumped off of you and reached under the bed to retrieve a metal baseball bat.

“Stay here.” He ordered, already marching out the door before you could even protest.

You fearfully obeyed, reaching for your phone in case 911 had to be called.

Your once warm and flushed body was now icy with panic. Sitting upright in the bed, you strained your ears for any idea of what was occurring downstairs.

But alas, the house remained freakily silent. Almost as if that brutal sound was in your head and nothing more.

This did nothing to help your anxiety, a cold sweat quickly forming.

Minutes passed, you waited with bated breath for something. Anything.

But nothing ever came.

Your worry grew tenfold.

The longer Taehyung was away, the more you felt weighed down with dread, heart nearly in your throat.

‘What was happening downstairs? Was Taehyung okay? Did he find something? If there was a struggle, surely you would’ve heard it by now, right?’

Then ultimately, as the seconds ticked on, ‘Was your boyfriend going to come back?’

At the ten-minute mark, you made your decision.

Now concerned for your boyfriend’s safety, you sprung out of bed and ran out of the room. Your body purposefully moving too fast for your mind to catch up and halt your movements in the name of self-preservation.

“Taehyung?!” You desperately called out as you practically plummeted down the stairs.

“In here!” A croaky voice answered, sounding like your boyfriend but oddly…defeated?

You correctly traced the voice to his workroom, stepping into the space and seeing a scene that swiftly broke your heart, effectively replacing all your fright with woe.

Taehyung was on his knees in front of an easel, head bowed down.

The easel held a half-done canvas.

It was a sketch of two people, a man and a woman that closely resembled you and Taehyung.

It was partly painted, the scene depicting a warm sunny day at the park that looked alot like where Taehyung had taken you for a picnic and officially asked you to be his girlfriend. You were in Taehyung’s arms, kissing his cheek as he smiled his signature box-smile. You could recall that precise moment easily, you had just said yes to being his and sheepishly pecked his cheek, embarrassed by the old man on the bench a few feet away that eyed you two like a hawk.

It was a wonderful piece of unfinished art, not only due to the sentimental value but also the artistry and time that clearly went into it.

If only there weren't angry red sloshes of paint that cut through it, ruining the picture and turning it into something that looked like a horrible bloody mess of goo and not the romantic day it was.

“I-I was going to gift this to you….on our seventh month.” Taehyung’s voice was watery.

You didn’t even know what to say.

All of his hard work and thought was simply…gone. Erased. Ruined.

It would’ve been the equivalent of someone breaking into your laptop and deleting your entire novel’s draft. What would you even do? If roles were reversed, would there even be a way for Taehyung to console you? To make matters worse, it was his gift of love to you. He didn’t make that painting for himself, a buyer, or a collection…he made it for you.

Your empathy made you almost cry for him, but you knew that would be the last thing he’d want to see right now. His guilt would only grow.

You walked further into the room and got on your knees beside him.

Wrapping your arms around him, you cradled his head in the nook between your head and shoulder while rocking the two of you. “Tae baby, I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, although you felt wet teardrops on your skin.

“Who would do this? It doesn’t make sense why someone would break in, take nothing and just destroy my gift?”

You didn’t know either, but you wanted to make him feel better. “Listen, I think it was the perfect gift. It’s really the thought that counts and I’m just happy that you even thought to make me something like that. Especially in the middle of working on your own collection, it must’ve been hard.”

Taehyung pulled back, regarding you with a tearful but hopeful gaze. “Really?”

“Of course! I was literally going to just get you a watch or something. That gift kinda would have made me look bad.” You attempted to joke.

He shakily smiled, even chuckling a bit before pulling back entirely and standing to his full height. Tae then held a hand out for you, pulling you up as well.

Not wanting to be in the room anymore with that awful mess, you gradually pushed him towards the door, eventually up the stairs and into your bedroom.

You both sat on the bed, him with his head in his hands and you awkwardly suggesting yet another early night in.

But instead of agreeing and attempting to join you under the covers, Taehyung continued to sit almost painfully still at the edge of your bed.

Then, he spoke.

“Y/n, you were lying when you said that guy was probably just a figment of your imagination.”

It wasn’t a question.

He knew.

He believed you now.

–

It was now the official opinion of the house that a ghost was indeed roaming around somewhere.

You wanted to pat yourself on the back because truly, your taste in men was superior.

Taehyung wasn’t one of those horror movie boyfriends that was convinced every unexplainable occurrence must’ve had a logical explanation. It only took that one experience for the artist to admit that something weird was going on, and although he never saw the ghost himself, Taehyung believed you when you said it looked exactly like him.

You were happy that you two were on the same page…well, mostly.

Taehyung reasoned that the lookalike ghost must’ve been the one to ruin his painting.

You don’t know why, but somewhere deep within, that accusation just didn’t feel right. Without thinking much, you had told your boyfriend that destroying his gift didn’t seem like something ghost Tae would do.

Obviously Taehyung was bewildered at your sudden defense of the spirit’s character and demanded to know how you could be so sure that it wasn’t him.

Feeling that your hand was forced, you fessed up to the second incident in which you ran into the other Taehyung. You explained that he was sweet, brought you hot chocolate and even held you as you fell asleep. It was only after the real Taehyung texted you that you realized it wasn’t your boyfriend, but by then it was too late.

Your boyfriend was understandably furious.

For one, you never told him that you were cuddled and taken care of by another man, dead or otherwise. And secondly, this spirit seemed to be taking too much of a liking to you. The artist was a weird mixture of jealous and protective, following you around the house and barely leaving you alone in fear that his replica would show up and snatch you away.

You thought he was overreacting, but Taehyung's determination to get rid of the ghost only grew as the days passed.

One day you took a break from writing and went downstairs to refresh your coffee, when you paused at the sight of your boyfriend waving an odd burning stick around the living room in a fashion that somehow made sense to him.

“Sage cleanses the home of negative energy and basically tells unwanted spirits to fuck off.” He told you as if you were the idiot and not him- wildly thrashing his arm around in a puff of smoke and demanding that his evil ghost twin left the premises immediately.

You shrugged, “Just don’t set off the smoke detector, please.”

The next day, Taehyung informed you over dinner that he called a security camera company and had ordered a set to be installed in your home.

“Don’t you think that’s kinda a big fucking thing to not run by me?”

“I’m sorry baby, but I knew you wouldn’t have agreed.” He apologized without seeming even the tiniest bit apologetic.

“If you knew I wouldn’t have wanted it then why do it anyway?!”

“Because as the man of the house it’s my job to protect us and I would like to witness everything that’s going on. Next time he comes out and tries to touch you, I will be able to see it from my phone and confront him.” He then reached for his water and took a self righteous sip before muttering under his breath, “That is if the sage didn’t kick him out already.”

“Man of the house?!” You echoed incredulously. “You call twirling around with some burning twigs and yelling at a harmless ghost being the man of the house?”

“He’s not harmless! Why are you so convinced that it’s just a casper that we’re dealing with?!”

You opened your mouth to retort, but snapped it shut when you realized you didn’t really have any reason to believe he wasn’t dangerous. So you just focused on the main glaring issue, “Nevermind that. I just don’t like how you made a big decision without telling me. Are we not equal in this relationship? It wasn’t even worth consulting me about?”

Taehyung didn’t say anything.

It would seem that he understood your point, but was stubbornly holding onto his just a tad more.

Appetite ruined, you stormed away in a display of vexation.

Not wanting to go to sleep beside him either, you stayed all night in your office and tried to just focus on editing the latest version of your draft.

Somewhere along the way, you managed to fall asleep on the keyboard.

You blearily awoke hours later to the sound of the door firmly shutting.

Groggily you sat up and twisted to see if anyone else was in the room with you, all the while rubbing off the key imprints on your cheek and leftover drool.

No one was there.

When you turned your attention back to the desk, you softly gasped in surprise.

A plate of grilled cheese sat there, still hot.

Alongside it was a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

One sip and you instantly recognized the ginger-cinnamon.

It wasn’t your boyfriend who left this.

The sage didn’t work.

–

Ralph was a man of about fifty years of age.

Tall, lumbering, calloused and not necessarily easy on the eyes, he shifted awkwardly at the entrance of your delicate farmhouse as Taehyung listed off the places in the home that he’d like covered.

Ralph was to set up the cameras while you and your boyfriend went out for a quick errand.

The gallery showing was tomorrow, and so was the little afterparty that you had arranged to take place. You did so without really realizing all that you would need for hosting. The guest list was an intimate circle of seven, but given you and Taehyung were running out of groceries for even just the two of you, you figured a trip to the market was needed to properly prepare.

You rolled your eyes and waited for your boyfriend to finish his little pep talk, sighing in relief when Ralph was finally free to disappear into the living room with his bag of tools.

“Ready?” You asked Taehyung, not really waiting for an answer as you stomped past him and out the door.

He followed you wordlessly to the car.

The ride into town was stiff and awkward, neither one of you saying anything and music not even playing in the background as Taehyung drove.

You both were still angry at each other.

Well, more like you were angry at him and he was correctly trying to not poke the bear by instigating useless chatter.

The cameras were overkill in your opinion and a giant waste of money. You both were artists, which means a severe lack of steady income. You needed to be smart with what you threw cash at because no one knew if your next book or his next painting would even sell. Nothing was ever guaranteed.

You felt for him that his gift was wrecked, but you weren’t lying when you said that the thought was all that really mattered to you. You genuinely didn’t care either way, it would’ve been nice to have the painting, but it was just as nice to know that he was painting one for you.

If you were a betting woman, you would bet that this was more about Taehyung’s unfounded jealousy than anything else. Usually you would find harmless jealousy kind of attractive, but not when it went into installing cameras into your home at the “low” price of a couple hundred dollars.

You thought of this in a quiet rage as Taehyung pulled into the grocery store.

He parked, you both got out and walked inside before grabbing a cart.

“Let’s split up.” You said, your tone leaving no room for argument.

“Fine. What do you want me to get?”

“Get the drinks. They’re mainly your friends so you’d know what they’d like more than me. I’ll get some stuff for a charcuterie board.” You ordered, just wanting to get back home as soon as possible

He nodded and swiftly went over to the alcohol section as you made way into the food aisles.

You were looking at the different types of crackers and wondering what the fuck the difference was when a sudden call of your name took your attention.

“Y/n?”

The voice was light and airy, tone warm and nostalgic to the ears.

No way.

It can’t be…

You swirled around to face the owner, nearly choking on your spit when you realized your suspicions were correct.

Park Jimin was as gorgeous as ever. The cherub face was just as you recalled, somehow both ruggedly handsome and softly docile. His eyes crinkled behind a pearly smile, a small hand coming up to swiftly brush through his dyed blonde hair as he approached you.

“I thought that was you.” He chuckled. “How have you been? It’s been so long.”

You managed a wry smile.

Jimin was once your college boyfriend of one year, five months, and eight days.

But hey, who was counting?

“I’m doing okay.” You choked out, not liking how he quickly frowned at your strained tone. If there was one man you could never lie to, it was Jimin. “How about yourself? Did you open up that studio you always wanted?”

The truth was you knew he did. Before meeting and dating Taehyung, you were guilty of occasionally checking his social media. It simply couldn’t be helped. Jimin was the longest relationship you ever had. The first man you ever really loved. And your first ever heartbreak.

“Um, yeah I did! I heard you published your first book last year. I bought a few copies myself…” he trailed off sheepishly, suddenly avoiding eye contact. “It uh, was really well written. Are you um, working on anything now?”

You bit your lip, not sure how you felt about the man you were once wildly in love with reading your novel after years of not talking. Much less buying more than one copy to support you. “Y-Yes I’m writing my second book.”

He nodded, a proud expression on his face as he pursed his lips in thought.

“I’m sorry this is…weird.” He finally huffed. “I really didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

You sighed with some relief, thankful he felt the same way. “Same. After you said you wanted to date other people I really didn’t expect to say another word to you like, ever.”

Jimin laughed, “Haha, what? Your memory continues to suck, Y/n. If anything it was you who ghosted-”

“Y/n.”

A much deeper voice cut through the air, bringing all the attention to a new figure descending upon the scene.

Taehyung strode up from behind you, placing an arm around you and regarding the other man with a brooding look of regard.

“Whose this?” Your boyfriend asked, purposefully deepening his already deep voice.

You inwardly rolled your eyes, noting how the artist was practically puffing his chest and glowering at the much shorter man.

“Taehyung, this is my old friend Jimin. Jimin, this is my boyfriend Taehyung.”

The two stiffly nodded at each other, you dodging the questioning look Jimin secretly shot at you for being described as ‘an old friend’.

A pregnant pause hung in the air.

“So…how long have you two been together?”

Before either you or your boyfriend could answer, a pretty lady suddenly skipped into the aisle and grasped onto Jimin’s arm.

“Babe, I can’t find the oat milk! I thought you said- Oh hello!” She just now noticed you and Taehyung, smiling politely and not-so-subtly nudging at Jimin to introduce her.

“Oh, um, this is Molly.”

“His girlfriend! And you two are?”

“I’m Y/n and this is my boyfriend Taehyung.” You introduced. “Jimin and I went to school together.”

“Really? I never get to meet any of Jimin’s old friends! We should have a double date or something!” Molly was an over the top girl, your ears almost ringing at the volume she exuded. But she seemed nice, so you smiled warmly at her and vaguely agreed.

Another brief, awkward and only slightly painful silence.

“Actually…” You trailed off in thought, an idea forming in your head but you didn’t know if it was a good one. Yet it was too late. Before you could even backtrack, all three sets of eyes were on you, eagerly waiting for you to finish the thought. “…what are you two doing tomorrow night?”

“Was just gonna drag Jiminnie to see this new movie! We can totally blow it off though!”

“Well, my boyfriend is a really talented artist and he has a showing tomorrow night. We’d love it if you two could make it.”

You felt Taehyung stiffen beside you, but you paid it no mind.

From what you understood about showings the more people, the more eyes, the better. It was harmless, wasn’t it? Jimin bought multiple copies of your book, and you’d invite him to a gallery showing to please his over hyper girlfriend.

Even, right?

Molly beamed, asking for your number to exchange the details.

You did so, pretending not to notice how both Jimin and Taehyung bore their stares into you.

When finished, you waved goodbye to the couple as they made their way to the dairy section. You and Taehyung then continued your own shopping in a rushed manner- your boyfriend grumbling about having to get back in time for the cameras.

The ride home was a bit more talkative, with Taehyung asking how you knew of Jimin and what made you two friends. You answered the questions rather honestly, just leaving out the parts about how your friendship blossomed into something more.

You weren’t exactly trying to be deceitful. It was just that he was under a lot of stress and paranoia the last few days, you didn’t want to push his poor nerves any further. If he was willing to set up a bunch of cameras to keep some ghost away from you, you didn’t want to push your luck by mentioning that Jimin was your ex boyfriend and longest relationship.

Besides, it wasn’t like Jimin was any kind of threat. You would never entertain the idea of going back to the guy who dumped you. He also now had Molly, so clearly you both moved on.

Taehyung pulled the car into the driveway, asking if you could handle the few bags as he went in to talk to Ralph and sort out the last few steps of installation. You agreed, watching him jog into the home as you gathered all the groceries and took your time to get inside.

You beelined straight to the kitchen with the newly bought food, raising your brows when you saw Taehyung staring at something intently on the counter.

“What is it?”

Taehyung didn’t answer.

You walked up behind him and stood on your tippy toes to spot over his shoulder what he was looking at.

It was a note, in messy and hurried handwriting.

“Sorry but the cameras could not have been installed. It won’t work here. -Ralph.”

–

If there was any man on top of the world tonight- his name was Kim Taehyung.

The Bauhaus gallery was swarmed with countless people, all clamoring to gaze upon the latest Kim collection and ponder the intricate meanings behind each piece. They wore luxury clothes and drank fancy wine that you couldn’t even pronounce, their tax bracket clearly a couple pegs above yours. There was of course some idle chatter, almost every corner of the building being filled with some pretentious snob rambling about the brush strokes, artistic style and commentary your boyfriend was allegedly trying to make with his art.

Such a crowd was not something you were accustomed to.

Thus you clung to Lisa, both idly sipping at wine and watching your boyfriend from afar as he charmingly answered questions.

“You know, he’s going to make thousands of dollars tonight.” Lisa thought out loud. “These rich types will outbid each other like crazy.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. You were happy for him, and knew he deserved it but you would be lying if you said he wasn’t in the doghouse.

“Still mad huh?” Lisa correctly assumed, reading your expression. “What happened after the camera dude disappeared?”

“Taehyung was really upset and called the company to demand his money back. They refunded him entirely, apologized and even sent someone to get the company van. I guess the Ralph dude was an alcoholic and everyone just kinda accepts that he skipped town.” You explained. “I tried to calm him down but he sorta snapped at me about how I never even wanted the cameras so I was probably just loving it all.”

Lisa lowly whistled, “Damn. Well, he probably snapped about the cameras but I promise you it wasn’t just about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“You invited your ex to his showing.” Lisa lectured, as if you were a child who didn’t even understand what you did wrong.

You stuttered, “B-But he doesn’t know Jimin is an ex! I told him he was just an old friend.”

She rolled her eyes, “Y/n of course he would see right through that. There's always going to be chemistry between Jimin and you, he probably picked up on it and is aware you’re not telling the complete truth about what you two were.”

“He’s just overly jealous. He wants to fight our ghost too. At this point, every man is a threat to him.”

At the mention of your ghost, Lisa’s eyes practically sparkled. “Oh I can’t wait to go back to your place! I want to feel the haunted energy for myself.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, “It’s just like any other home, Lisa.”

“That’s because you don’t have a psychic sense to save your life, Y/n.”

You didn’t know whether or not to be offended by that, so you decided to distract yourself by scanning the room for your boyfriend’s invited friends.

Kim Namjoon was an old boss of Taehyung that remained good friends with the artist even after he dumped his job to take up painting full time. Currently, he and his wife Jennifer were talking rather seriously to a thin-lipped curator, most likely about purchasing one of the artworks displayed.

Right across from where you and Lisa stood, Taehyung was conversing with his former coworkers; Jin and Hoseok. They appeared to be laughing about something, their lightheartedness standing out in the overly serious room of people.

If you craned your neck a little to the left, you could spot Yoongi and Jungkook hiding in a corner away from everyone else, almost perfectly mimicking you and your close friend. They both nursed their drinks quietly, occasionally sharing words but mainly just waiting out this event.

You always kind of thought that Lisa and Jungkook would make a good pairing if properly introduced and pushed. So you turned to your friend and was just about to suggest you guys walk over, when she made a face at something behind you.

“Uh oh, here comes the ex.” She mumbled.

You turned around to indeed see Jimin and Molly approaching.

Jimin wore a suit, dress shirt unbuttoned at the top to reveal some of his sun kissed chest. His blonde hair was properly done this time, brushed to the side and back to fully expose his forehead. He raised a hand and waved, rings catching the light and nearly blinding you in the process.

Beside him, Molly looked as pretty as ever in a blue sweetheart dress that complimented her figure. Yet, she looked rather irritated. She attempted to give you a smile in greeting, but it looked more like a grimace.

Jimin spoke first, “Hey, I’m so sorry we’re late. I’m hoping we didn’t miss too much?”

You wanted to be annoyed but without meaning to, a giggle escaped you.

“Things really don’t change.” You told Jimin, a knowing look simmering in your eyes. While dating, you guys were often the couple that showed up late to any event. Most people assumed that it was your doing because you were the girl, when in all actuality it was Jimin.

Jimin shamelessly grinned, “I’ve gotten better, I swear.”

You didn’t believe it for a second and he knew it.

You both shared a laugh, staring at each other fondly like old friends reliving the old times.

It was hard to believe that you were joking with the man you once thought you’d never get over or forgive. Countless nights were spent eating your feelings, hysterically crying and obsessing over all the videos or pictures you couldn’t bring yourself to delete.

But there are some people in life that as soon as they come back, it’s like they never left.

And it was almost as if Jimin never left.

You two continued to gaze into each other, lost in your own comfortable bubble when a sudden throat clearing broke the haze.

“Um, actually the showing is almost over.” Lisa informed, her and Molly visibly looking left out of the nostalgia.

Your ex had the decency to look guilty. “Oh no! I’m so sorry! Maybe we can all just get drinks? There’s a nice bar two blocks down. I can buy a round for everyone?”

“That’s sweet but we have a little after party planned back at my place. I live kind of out of town though, so it’s okay if you can’t make it.”

“No! We can make it! What's the address?” Jimin seemed eager.

You told him, him pulling out his phone to save it into his gps system.

Molly was silent all this time, which was kind of worrying as your first meeting with her led you to believe she was the bubbly type. Now that you mentioned it, it looked like she was avoiding looking at either you or her boyfriend, focusing on a spot on the wall somewhere behind you.

You opened your mouth to maybe ask if she was alright, but quickly shut it when you realized that could be overstepping some boundary.

Fortunately, Lisa seemed to have enough of this entire interaction and grabbed your arm while saying, “Me and Y/n were just going to go to the restroom! Please take a good look around and enjoy her boyfriend’s work! See you guys at the after party!”

Your friend then swiftly dragged you away, barely leaving you enough time to smile apologetically at the couple.

When you both entered the restroom, Lisa simply marched up to the sink and began fixing invisible smudges in her makeup as you shifted awkwardly beside her.

“So…” She started, looking you up and down in the mirror. “Please tell me you know Jimin is still in love with you.”

“W-What?! No way!” You spluttered.

“Y/n it’s so obvious. I actually felt bad for his girlfriend. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.” She rolled her eyes, almost disappointed in your lack of awareness.

“It’s just been forever. It’s hard to not hyperfocus on eachother, we’ve both changed so much. Also, why would the guy who dumped me out of nowhere still be in love with me?”

She released a deep sigh, “He knows he made the shittiest mistake of his life and is now regretting it when seeing you and your talented boyfriend doing so well.”

You chuckled at the thought of someone looking at your relationship and being jealous.

“Listen, just remember tonight is Taehyung’s night and fighting or not, he’s still a wonderful boyfriend overall. And Jimin is your ex who broke your heart. Inviting him to your place after this might’ve been too much. I suggest you keep your distance.”

“Lisa, thanks for the advice but I honestly was just being friendly. He seemed sorry that he missed most of the showing. Besides, I’m going to be too busy hosting to have a deep heart to heart with him or anything.” You explained, a little offended that she thought you were going to play part in some dramatic reconciliation.

A sudden announcement echoed outside the restroom doors, your ears straining to hear a gallery worker asking everyone to gather on the main floor for the artist’s speech and thus the final part of the night.

Saying nothing more, Lisa and you made your exit to join the audience.

– The clock was nearing midnight.

Your usually quiet farmhouse of a home was not at all quiet.

Your boyfriend's friends were merrily talking and drinking, once in a while their masculine laughs would sync up and reverberate through the halls. They all conversed and lounged in the living room, the largest part of the house that could fit all of them comfortably. Yet, you and Lisa stayed in the kitchen, making the drinks and finger foods, as you indulged in harmless girl talk.

“The one with tattoos is so hot, Y/n. Please tell me he’s single!”

“Jungkook? I’m pretty sure he is. Taehyung told me that Namjoon is the only other one in the friend group that’s in a relationship.”

“Okay, so far so good.” She paused to pop a stuffed mushroom in her mouth, humming in thought. “What’s his type though? Like, would I have to make the first move? Does he like a straightforward girl? Because he hasn’t so much as looked at me tonight.”

“I’ve only met Taehyung’s friends once before so I don’t know their types or anything. I do think Jungkook looks a lot manlier than he actually is. He’s very kind but shy so you’ll have to talk to him first.” You explained while opening another bottle of wine for the two of you.

Lisa frowned at the thought, not used to being the one that had to chase.

You poured two glasses, handing her one with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I can introduce you two. It’s kind of a good thing he’s avoiding you like the plague, Tae once said he only acts like that with pretty girls.”

Your friend lit up like the fourth of july.

“Hey babe!” A familiar deep voice called out.

You looked around to see your boyfriend stepping into the kitchen, a buzzed smile on his face and a slightly glazed film over his eyes.

Moments like these made you realize how much of a lightweight your boyfriend was. It only took one or two drinks for him to get tipsy. But it was still his night and he was already home amongst loved ones, so all you could do is smile endearingly at his slightly intoxicated self.

“Yes, handsome?”

His boxy grin grew, “The boys want more beer.”

“Already?! I put out a twelve pack! People need to be able to drive home, ya know!”

He laughed, “Baby, my friends can drink a gallon each and still be able to drive home with their eyes closed if need be.”

“Well I don’t have any more beer up here. Just wine. There might be some more in the basement, though.”

He nodded in thanks, turning his back to presumably go to the basement and retrieve the drinks.

Lisa waited for him to get fully out of earshot before leaning over and dramatically whispering, “How is Jimin and that Molly girl doing?”

You shrugged, “Last time I was in there, Hoseok was making conversation with Jimin and Molly was all over Yoongi.”

“Damn, trouble in paradise?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t seem too bothered and she seemed a little drunk. She might just get overly friendly when she drinks.”

“And you’re still convinced that he’s over you?”

You rolled your eyes but ultimately stayed silent, aware that the couple was acting sorta strange but also not so sure that you were the cause. You took your wine in one hand and a plate of appetizers in the other, motioning for Lisa to grab the rest and follow you.

When you both entered the living room, you were thrilled to spot Jungkook sitting alone on one of the loveseats. You quickly set the food down and pulled Lisa along with you, approaching him with a friendly smile meant to put him at ease. Considering the way his eyes widened at the sight of your friend, you didn’t know how successful you were.

“Hey Jungkook, it’s been a while!” You greeted.

“Y-Yeah it has been. How’s your erm, book going?”

“It’s doing okay, thanks for asking. Have you met my friend, Lisa?”

He briefly scanned your friend, nervously gulping before saying quietly, “…No I haven't.”

“Oh well, Lisa was just saying how much she liked your tattoos.” You nudged her, prompting her to say something.

She just nodded in agreement, suddenly meek.

He blushed, “Thank you.”

“Actually, Lisa, weren't you saying that you were thinking of getting a tattoo?” You pretended to think out loud, as if you weren’t outright playing them. You didn’t wait for her to answer the rhetorical question, “Jungkook, don’t you do tattoos now?”

Now on a topic of interest he was for sure confident in, Jungkook practically jumped in his seat, “Yeah! I do! I’ve only tatted myself and some friends but I hope to work on more people.”

You watched with a smirk as Lisa moved to sit next to Jungkook, her now explaining what she’d like done and Jungkook asking questions about placement, size and color.

You felt sure enough in them to leave them alone, now inhabiting your little corner as you finished your wine while taking in the scene.

Yoongi and Molly stood by the window, and were obviously the most inebriated. He was the type to ramble pointlessly when tipsy, and she giggled at every little thing he said, playfully shoving his shoulder once in a while. You knew for a fact that Yoongi was too deep in his own self-epiphanes to notice her bad flirting, either that or he was just trying to talk to anyone who was willing to listen.

Namjoon and Jennifer were sitting on the couch and talking to Jin, laughing at whatever odd impression he was attempting. Beside them on the loveseat, Hoseok was politely nodding along to small talk from Jimin. Being one of the friendliest and most calming of the group, it made sense that Hoseok was the one trying to make your ex boyfriend feel included.

Content to just watch your guests for a while, you stood by your lonesome and slowly sipped at the remnants of your wine.

Playing host wasn’t exactly your forte, so you were enjoying the little lull while it lasted. Unlike your boyfriend, your social battery tended to max out at the two-hour mark when in group settings.

And as much as you loved the people in your home (with maybe the exception of your ex and his girlfriend), you couldn’t wait for them to get out so you could take a long, hot shower and head to bed.

The stress of the last few days was really tiring you, and you just knew that as soon as the excitement of the showing and sold paintings wore off, Taehyung was going to continue his spat with you about the cameras.

When you and Jimin dated, you two were always on the same page. Fights very rarely happened. And Jimin was such a people pleaser that if literally anything slightly upset you, he would practically fall over himself to make you smile again.

Taehyung was the first boyfriend to genuinely pick a fight with you, being more stubborn than you about matters you didn’t necessarily want to back down from either. Your relationship conflict resolution skills were being tested, and you just didn’t have the patience or experience to keep fighting much longer. You would call a truce or some type of compromise, if it weren’t for the fact that there was no way to really keep both of you happy.

A few minutes passed as you pondered this to yourself.

Seemingly materializing out of nowhere, a mysterious arm wrapped around your waist.

The suddenness of it all caused you to jump and release a very unflattering squeak.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

A deep chuckle rumbled beside you, Taehyung smirking lazily before diving face first into your neck and nuzzling it in some sort of drunken stupor.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” You groaned, trying to forcefully shove his face away from you. “Where’s the beer you went to fetch?”

Your boyfriend expertly dodged your shove and dove back into your neck, mumbling against the skin something about not being able to find more drinks.

The vibration of his lips on such a sensitive spot made you want to squirm, but his halfhearted mumbles took your attention a bit more.

“No beer? I could’ve sworn-”

“Hey Y/n!” Someone interrupted with a call across the room. You looked up to see Lisa trudging over with a determined look on her face and a fogged up look in her eyes, perhaps a bit more tipsy than you remember leaving her. “Aren’t you going to show me where exactly you saw the ghost?”

Your dear friend most likely thought she was being discreet and having a normal conversation at a perfectly appropriate tone. But no, she was actually speaking way above a conversational volume, causing everyone else in the room to halt their conversations and turn to look at you.

“Ghost?” Jin laughed.

“You saw something in this room?” Hoseok inquired with a trembling voice, most likely regretting having come over. Beside him, Jimin quietly shook his head to himself.

“No way, Y/n doesn’t believe in stuff like that.” Your ex confidently informed the group.

At the sound of your past lover’s voice, you felt Taehyung stiffen beside you. The artist untangled himself from you, standing to his full height and facing the guest with an unknown expression.

“We had a little bit of a ghost problem, but it’s taken care of now.” He paused, and you could nearly hear his smirk when he went on to declare, “I got rid of it.”

Yoongi laughed boisterously, having to hold himself up with the wall to prevent falling over. “I’m sorry, but the image of little Tae boxing a little sheet with two holes for eyes is really sending me.”

Half your guests laughed at the thought. The other more believing half still stared at you inquisitively.

An awkward silence.

“Ghosts are real.” Jennifer started, effortlessly drawing all eyes to her. “I used to live in a haunted house when I was a kid.”

She put her drink down and folded her hands across her lap, suddenly immersed in thought and careful about what she was about to share.

“In my childhood home, there was a garden in the backyard. Almost everyday, at sunset, I’d look out the window and see this lady circling the flowers and humming to herself. After ten minutes or so, she would disappear into thin air. I told my parents but they never believed me.”

She paused, either for dramatic effect or to recollect.

“Until one day, my mom saw her too. And when she went out to confront what she thought was an intruder, the lady disappeared before her eyes. My mom then did some digging about the history of the house and it turns out, the previous owner was outside gardening when she had a heart attack and died.”

A pregnant pause hung in the air as everyone silently digested the anecdote.

“That’s fucking terrifying, please tell me your parents moved houses after that.” Hoseok broke the silence first, pleading with watery eyes.

Namjoon’s wife laughed, reaching for her drink once more. “How is it scary? The lady was just checking on her garden in the afterlife. However, I then grew up really interested in supernatural stuff.” She turned to you. “There’s some tell-tale signs that a home has a spirit attached to it. Cold spots, shadow figures, whispers, scary dreams and the biggest of all: always feeling like you're being watched, even if there’s no one else in the room.”

You quietly thought to yourself. Were there any cold spots in the home? No. Any shadow figures? Nope. Whispers and nightmares? Nada.

But…the last one, being watched when no one is there.

If you really focused on your intuition, you faintly felt that even now amongst all these people, you were being watched by something unknown.

Goosebumps raised on the surface of your arms.

Chills ran down your spine and you shivered, the reaction causing Taehyung to grasp you tighter against him in what was supposed to be comfort.

You felt even more cold.

“We haven’t had any of that. Really guys, it’s taken care of.” Your boyfriend told the room, effectively shutting down the paranormal subject.

You assumed Taehyung felt a bit defensive of his ghost expelling skills, either that or he genuinely wanted another topic of discussion.

You then felt a little bad, it was still his night after all and here you were unintentionally ruining it with your little ghost stories. The focus of the room should be on him and his achievements, not everyone's supernatural beliefs and stories.

“Taehyung is right, it’s all resolved. But I’d like to ask all of you to fill up your glasses one last time, and raise them with me, ” While they did that you quickly scanned the room, “Um, except maybe you, Yoongi. Feel free to sit this one out, bud.” You laughed as the drunk man just grumbled at you, defiantly snatching another beer and holding it high while swaying on his feet.

Hopefully he wasn’t the one driving home.

You cleared your throat, “I'd like to propose a toast to our own Taehyung. Everyone in this room knows it was only a matter of time before your artistic genius was recognized by the world, but that doesn’t make us any less proud than we are of you tonight. To the first of many showings! To Taehyung!”

“To Taehyung!” the room loudly parroted back, everyone thrusting their drinks of choice in the air before knocking them back.

The artist beside you laughed and shook his head, “Really, guys it’s no big deal. Just a few paintings that I’m lucky even got sold. But thanks so much for making it. Most of you-” he snapped a side eye where Jimin sat, “have supported me so much, I’m just happy to have such a great group of friends.”

Said friends all smiled and nodded, although a few caught on to Taehyung’s subliminal dig and warily looked over at your ex.

Jimin pursed a tight smile, clearly trying to be nice and not make it obvious that he was the outsider at the party. You caught his eye and shot him a sorry look, but he shook his head in what was clearly meant to say “don’t worry about it.”

Your boyfriend continued, “However! ‘Friends’ don’t really beat ‘love of my life’. So without getting into all the lewd details of how I plan to spend my night celebrating, I’m going to need you all to start clearing out,” Taehyung smirked. “Y/n is a screamer.”

“Ew!” Lisa shouted, beside her Jungkook was suddenly unable to make eye contact with you.

The older men in the room just cackled. You slapped the artist's chest while trying to hide your blood red face.

Taehyung ducked and mouthed at your ear to whisper, “Sorry baby, but you know it’s true. And don’t act like you don’t want them out sooner rather than later.”

You wanted to be mad, but understood he was tipsy and riding on the high of his showing. So instead you played along and harshly whispered to him, “I doubt you can make me scream tonight. It’s not right to be misleading to your friends.”

He tiled your head to make you face him.

Taehyungs’ left brow twitched in vexation, his lips pulling back in a little growl. He looked around to make sure the guests were distracted with finishing their drinks or saying their goodbyes to each other. When he confirmed no eyes were on you two, he secretly placed his hand at the back of your head, running his long fingers through your hair and stopping right at the ends, to quickly form a fist and pull.

It was just one short tug, but the power of it made you gasp.

You would be lying if you said it didn’t make you a little wet too.

You had no idea where this came from. He never pulled your hair. Your boyfriend wasn’t rough and was one of those really progressive artists types that viewed any kind of manhandling in the bedroom as sort of sexist. But when you peered up at him, with the doe eyes he said he loved so much, and saw the clouded nature of his gaze, you just knew that inebriated Tae was very different from sober Tae.

Black and white, really.

‘I’m in for quite the night’ you thought to yourself while biting your lip, inwardly smug at how Taehyung transparently honed in on the action.

“Um, hey I think I’ll take my leave first.” You looked up to see Jimin awkwardly shifting in front of you two, a blacked out Molly in his hold.

“Oh god! Is she okay?” You exclaimed, noting the poor girl looked dead.

The dancer chuckled, “Yeah, she just gets really hyper when she's drunk then passes out after a bit. Ironically, sleep is all she needs I guess since she always wakes up good as new. No hangover.”

“Here let me show you out. I can help put her in the car.” You offered, already detangling yourself from Taehyung. He made a small sound of protest and made move to hold you tighter.

You placed a hand on his shoulder and consoled him with a smile, “You wanted people to leave, so we should help everyone get home safe. Can you check on Yoongi and maybe see if Namjoon and Jennifer can take him home?”

He looked conflicted, carefully sizing Jimin up through his peripheral. You wanted to roll your eyes. Although tipsy Taehyung was apparently a sexy beast, he was also an immature toddler who needed to be tricked.

You got on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear, “The quicker we get people out, the quicker you get me all to yourself.”

That seemed to convince him as he reluctantly stomped away in the direction of the couple, shooting one more guarded look at the dancer.

With that you led Jimin to the front door, even helping him put Molly’s heels back on before stepping out into the driveway and walking him to his car.

Silently, he opened the car and laid her in the backseat, tucking her in with his jacket. Then he shut the door, but instead of walking around to the driver spot, he turned to you and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

“So….”

“Look, I’m sorry about Taehyung. I didn’t even tell him you were an ex but he’s just been really possessive and weird lately. It’s not just you.” You informed him, hoping to make him feel better.

Jimin just waved it off with a chuckle, “No, I get it. You’re really gorgeous, kind and talented. I also struggled with jealousy when we were together. Can’t really blame him.”

You hoped your blush wasn’t too prominent as you said, “Yeah, but you were always nice to people regardless of feeling possessive. He was just rude. Again, I’m sorry.”

“Well, you can’t really date someone breathtaking if you’re going to be an insecure prick about it.”

You gaped like a fish at the implication you were still breathtaking in Jimin’s eyes. Words were suddenly hard to come by.

It was silent for a moment, the tension between you two as thick as it can possibly get for two past lovers.

“Y/n…why didn’t you tell him we dated?”

“L-Like I said, he’s already been acting jealous and I didn’t want him to focus on that when it was his night. Besides, It’s not like-”

“I broke up with Molly.”

“…What?”

“It happened on the way to your after party, she was upset that I still held a candle for you. And yeah, I couldn’t drag her along when I never felt half of what I felt for you, for her. I just said it without thinking, terrible timing of course. But that’s pretty on brand for me, I suppose.” He attempted a joke.

You smiled politely, although you had no idea how you should feel.

He continued, “I just thought I should say sorry because the reason she was such a drunk and sloppy mess in your home was because I carelessly dumped her on the way there.”

“It’s um, okay Jimin. She wasn’t the only drunken mess tonight. I hope you two manage to stay friends.” You said, then after a beat added, “And that you find what you’re looking for.”

“Listen, I know you're with Taehyung and happy but, I think there was some kind of misunderstanding about our breakup. I’m not trying to be a homewrecker or anything, but can we get a coffee sometime and just…talk?”

You smiled, finding no harm in the offer. “Sure-”

“No.”

You gasped and whipped around to see Taehyung standing behind you, arms crossed and hell in his eyes as he glowered down at Jimin.

How did he get there without being spotted or heard?

It's like he fabricated out of nowhere.

“I suggest you get in your car, leave and never speak to her again.”

Your ex held his hands up in surrender, “Look man, I wasn’t trying anything-”

“What kind of guy goes to their ex when she’s clearly in a happy and healthy relationship, and tries to drudge up the past in the name of closure? Fuck your closure. You lost her, and now I have her. And trust me, she has better things to do than getting coffee with the guy who broke her heart.”

“Please, Taehyung-”

You were cut off.

His voice was the lowest you’ve ever heard it, eyes pitch black and face blank as he calmly finished, “It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. And if I see you again I’m going to break your kneecaps and skin you alive, you little spineless boy. Run along now. While you still can.”

The threats were so visceral and promising, coupled with a man who looked downright murderous yet somehow calm. As if he had done it before and doing it again would be more so an inconvenience than a whole life-ending ordeal.

In this moment, you didn’t know your own boyfriend and you were terrified with this new persona.

No one moved or spoke, in fear one step or word would make Taehyung good on his promise.

You and Jimin were paralyzed, like two helpless deer in the presence of a blood thirsty wolf, the only hope was to stay still and go unnoticed. You met your ex’s eyes and while he did look afraid, he was focused only on you and your proximity to Taehyung.

Jimin was fearful. Not for himself, but for you.

And while you wanted your ex to run away, you were also scared to be left alone with someone so different from your usual Taehyung.

How could a few drinks and some jealousy cause such a behavior?

“Hey what’s going on here?”

Namjoon and Jennifer were babysitting a toddling Yoongi, the couple was also making way to their vehicle when they spotted the scene. The so-called ‘leader’ of the gang was quick to pick up on Taehyung’s aggressive stance, probably prompting him to get involved.

You felt your body lighten in relief.

Namjoon was always good at calming people down and taking control of situations.

Like a switch was turned on, your boyfriend grinned at the oncomers and nodded over at the dancer. Seemingly happy as a clam he chirped, “Nothing, hyung! Jimin here was just leaving. His poor girlfriend had too much, I think.”

Namjoon didn’t quite believe that, you and Jimin still looked rigid with alarm after all. Nonetheless, he played along for everyone’s sake. “Really? Maybe you should leave now then Jimin, get her in bed as soon as possible. It was nice meeting you.”

Jimin took the hint with grace and wordlessly ducked into his car, not acknowledging anyone else as he mouthed to you “call me”.

He started up the car, then slowly backed out of the driveway, and eventually down the road.

“Dude, are you sure you’re okay? It looked like you wanted to kill him.” Namjoon asked the artist.

Before hearing whatever bullshit was going to spew out of his mouth next, you promptly whipped around and stormed back into the house, making sure to purposefully shoulder-check your boyfriend as hard as you could in the process.

What the fuck was wrong with the bastard?!

Talking as though he was some offender or even a murder, just because your ex wanted to catch up?

You were so dreadfully embarrassed! Jimin must’ve thought you lost your mind after him and went off to date some real weirdos.

If you weren’t already on a lease with the man, this probably would’ve been the part where you blocked him and made it your personal mission to never see him again.

Instead, you busied yourself in the kitchen and washed most of the dirty dishes your guests left behind. You hoped Taehyung was wise enough to leave you alone, if the jerk knew what was good for him.

About 15 minutes had passed, and the kitchen was nearly as spotless as it was before the party had started, thanks to your furious cleaning and scrubbing. The house was now silent, and you were just debating putting all your spices in alphabetical order when you heard a shuffle behind you.

You snapped around and instantly scoffed at the sight.

Taehyung was leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets and fixing a sheepish look at you.

“So…that got a little out of hand.”

You barked a disbelieving laugh. “More like you got out of hand, Taehyung. Threatening people like you’re some felon! Wouldn't be a surprise if there’s a rumor spreading about me dating a serial killer now."

“Y/n, I’m sorry. But please let me make it up to you.”

“Make it up to me? Your actions cannot be undone Taehyung! I cooked and cleaned after your friends and tried to make this night special for you. I just wanted you to have a nice night and be nice, and you flip out over a platonic coffee date? Who do you think I am? A slut who will open her legs to any ex who talks to me?!”

“W-what? No- Of course not! Please don’t think-”

“What the hell am I supposed to think, asshole?! Even if Jimin still had feelings for me, it would take me reciprocating them for anything to happen! You clearly don’t trust me, and if that’s the case, then what are we doing here? Should we just become roommates or something?”

A painful struck his face, watery eyes met yours when he choked out, “Do you even hear yourself? Why would I try to fight your ex if I truly didn’t love you? You’re mine, and I love you so much it’s just…I can act a little crazy sometimes.”

You sighed, turning your back on him to lean on the sink in exhaustion.

“I thought you were different from other guys, Tae. That caveman shit is extremely degrading to not only you, but especially me.”

“I’m sorry…it’s just a primal part of me that I can’t turn off. Give me a chance to make it up to you.”

You shot a look over your shoulder at him, still pissed.

He shot his hands up in the air, as if in defense. “You can still be mad at me all you want.”

“You’re sleeping on the couch for a week.”

“Done.”

“And….And you’re forgetting all about those stupid cameras.”

He quirked a grin, unknown mirth dancing in his eyes. “Sure.”

“At the end of the week, you will personally apologize to Jimin via a phone call or letter.”

His smile dropped, your glare sharpened, “Umm..fine okay. It won’t be sincere though.”

You rolled your eyes, “Doesn’t have to be, it’s the right thing to do so you’ll do it.”

“…anything else?”

“Not for now. I’m going to bed soon so if there’s anything you need from the room, get it now.”

He wordlessly turned around, and you then faintly heard him going up the stairs.

Biting your lip in deep thought, you proceed to wipe off the last of the counters.

Could you forgive him? When he was willing to do all that to appease you?

If you were being honest with yourself, you could feel the irritation already start to melt away a bit. You hadn’t expected such a 180 in his stance, he went from threatening Jimin with murder to begrudgingly agreeing to apologize within only a matter of half an hour or so. You thought you would have to at least give him the silent treatment for a bit before you could even bargain a “sorry” for your ex. Taehyung was usually much more stubborn…

Nonetheless though, you were still upset and embarrassed about the scene.

You hated when men got violent around you, it made you feel so unsafe and small. You thought Taehyung was different, him even poking fun at the meatheads who would pull stuff like that at the local bars you would frequent while dating. So what changed?

Footsteps slowly descended back down the stairs, telling you that Taehyung had returned from your bedroom and it was safe to go up.

You left the kitchen, turned off the lights and passed through the hallway. Briefly you stopped, just short of the stairs, to see your boyfriend grumbling to himself while arranging some blankets on the couch.

A sudden and chilling thought ripped from your lips before you could even quietly ponder it.

“Taehyung…how did you know Jimin was my ex?”

He stopped in his tracks, slowly turning to face you with a blank look.

“Uh, Lisa might have slipped up and told me.”

You relaxed, unknowingly releasing a breath you had been holding. “Hmm, okay. We’ll talk tomorrow then. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight baby.”

“Oh! Let me get some water first, can you check that the doors were locked?” You asked while skipping back towards the kitchen. You hated waking up with a dry mouth and always kept a glass of water on your nightstand, restless bathroom trips be damned.

You didn’t hear any response to your request, but you paid it no mind, assuming Tae probably already double, if not triple, checked the locks being the worrywart that he was.

Right next to the kitchen entrance was the basement door, and it was shut.

Yet, something stopped you in your tracks.

The light under the basement door…it was on?

“Well I don’t have any more beer up here. Just wine. There might be some more in the basement, though.”

It couldn’t be….could it?

Your intuition was hollering at you from within.

A force greater than you pulled you to the door handle.

Against yourself, you opened the door to the basement…

And choked back a horrified scream.

At the bottom of the stairs lay Taehyung.

Unconscious, pale and bleeding horrifically from some head wound that was forming an inky pool under his crumpled form.

It wasn’t your Taehyung that returned upstairs.

So...this has been sitting in my drafts for over a year lol. I do have a dramatic ending in mind and some final scenes but yea, I don't think I could finish this unless people actually wanted it so let me know if this is a plot you kinda liked? I never tried flat-out supernatural horror like this. Anyway, happy October guys! Love you all. Luna :)

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