Can I Get Yandere Scaramouche With Gn Reader? So, Can I Get Where Scaramouche Try To Find Reader Only

— don’t care just missed you

cheong-san x gn!reader | 3.4k words

genre: horror, angst, comfort, then fluff

warnings: swearing, canon-divergence, blood, injury (eye injury), implied cannibalism (technically, he’s half human and half zombie), mentions of death, suicidal ideation, and anxiety. aouad stuff basically.

synopsis: being a shut-in introvert with no interest in spending time with people or going outside was something people weren’t exactly fond of. it turned out to be the best thing in your life when a virus broke out in the school near your house. OR you love cheongsan and don’t care that he barges into your house with a zombie bite on his arm.

a/n: so i just finished all of us are dead and. i’m upset LMFAO i know i said i was taking a break but the end with cheongsan’s implied death(?) made me so upset i wanted to write for him also i. cant find gifs for him

The living room was dark. As was the rest of the world. Or well, maybe saying the world in its entirety would be an exaggeration. The world was dark for the people of Hyosan.

You stared at your laptop screen— the only source of light in your house, currently—, clicking your tongue rhythmically as you stared at your wallpaper. On your toolbar, several old internet browser tabs were open. Social medias and such, platforms with information on what was going on. All refreshed and now gone.

The word was everywhere: zombies. A zombie apocalypse that had started spreading so fast one could compare the city’s situation to the famous movie Train to Busan. Before you could get any more useful information, networks had shut down entirely.

Of course. A classic move. “So misinformation won’t spread” was what the higher-ups of the military had told on TV. But you knew what this meant. Cutting off communications was dangerous, even more so in a city that slowly started to break down under the pressure of some unknown virus that turned people into literal zombies. Not only that, but their means of stopping the spreading of misinformation meant that they stopped the spreading of information in general. Without being in direct contact with what was going on… You couldn’t know anything.

Like, genuinely.

You lived in a small, humble house lodged in the middle of the forest. Your parents owned it and were always on trips. They’d told you you could live there if you wanted since they were almost never home, saying that the house was supposed to be yours when you’d be an adult, but that it worked either way. You’d taken up on the offer with joy, around the end of middle school. No one but your family and close friends knew you lived there. Needless to day you were a bit cut off from everyone else. You liked being alone, and having an entire house (even if a bit small) to yourself. It was nice.

You’d dropped out of school mid-year, leaving your close friends surprised and pleading you to stay. But you’d told yourself that social life wasn’t really for you, and much less the restrictions of the educational system when you were forced to attend school five days out of seven in a week. So you’d shut yourself in your house. You were fine with it, really. You liked it more than going out every other day. You had food stored for months, and you weren’t that far from the city. So if you needed more you could just go to the nearest road, take a taxi, and take a trip to the grocery store to stock up. So you were fine.

Nevertheless, it seemed people naturally craved for the presence of other people. Recently, watching slice-of-life animes during your breaks from homeschool had got you craving for the thrill of a typical “normal teenage life”. And you missed your friends. You wanted to run out school laughing with them, you wanted to go out for ice-cream on sunny, hot days. You wanted to pass notes with them during classes and get detention afterwards. You wanted to buy stuff at the vending machine as you spoke with your classmates.

But you’d chosen the life of someone who stayed inside.

And this choice had turned out to be the best one you’d made in your life when the news of a virus outbreak in your city, and in your former high school especially, had broke out. You were happy. Gleeful, really. You’d just escaped what could’ve been hell on Earth, while simply sitting peacefully at home. And with the ongoing crisis, you’d be excused for any homework and assignments you’d miss. So this was fine. It was even good!

Until you’d look away from your laptop screen and face reality again. You’d swallow thickly, frowning. The old name tag on your desk was something that usually brought you comfort, yet lately it did nothing but worry you.

Lee Cheongsan.

If the school was the epicenter of the virus, then he was in danger. Who knows, maybe he’d even turned already. The thought of your best friend… No, the person you loved turning into a zombie was unpleasant, to say the least. So much that every time it crossed your mind, you had to fight the impulsive urge to run out of your house and to the school. You didn’t live far from the school, so it would be fine. But still. It was careless and impulsive, so you always refrained.

But you were scared. And you missed him.

You missed the texts he would send you saying your empty seat in class made his heart ache in a dramatic way, before insulting you for saying he was dramatic. You missed his smile when you’d open the door every time he’d come to see you. You missed his hugs. The way he held your hand when you were anxious. You missed your childhood days with him, you missed the teenage ones that you’d barely had the chance to experience. You missed going to his family’s restaurant when he managed to get you to leave the house. You missed studying with him. You missed taking pictures with him that he’d purposefully try to make blurry. You missed him.

And after several days of zoning out entirely, loud knocking brought you out of that daze you were in. You were scared shitless, to say the least. Just a while ago you’d heard announcements about explosions that would happen around the city, and in the school in particular. You’d sat there, unmoving as the image of Cheongsan and your friends drenched in blood and dead on the ground plagued your anxious mind. You didn’t want to leave for the safe-place the military kept talking about. When they’d come to your house, you’d grabbed every belonging you’d used recently and ran straight to the basement, hiding there and staying as quiet as possible in hopes that they’d deem this house abandoned. Your safe place was obviously your house. So you would stay. You were almost certain the explosions wouldn’t reach it. And even if they did, so what?

You didn’t really… feel like living that much anymore. While you knew Cheongsan was someone who was strong and smart, you were still almost certain he could be dead. And you loved him. And he loved you. You both knew. So why would you want to live if the one you loved was dead?

The point was that irritatingly loud knocking brought you out of that train of thoughts. You picked up the knife on your table and carefully walked over to the door.

The military again? Maybe this time you should answer, you thought. But you couldn’t be sure. And you didn’t have a view on who was outside. You had to at least walk over there and—

“[name]!” a familiar voice yelled outside. And you froze, and dropped the knife. Because what else could you do? — “It’s me. It’s Cheongsan. Are you there?”

Then you ran and opened the door.

There he was. He looked exhausted. His features were painted with red, and one of his eyes was… weirdly bloody. The veins around it were prominent and visible, almost zombie-like. He was panting, a hand holding the side of your doorframe. You noticed that, besides the blood all over his clothes, a part of his sleeve was torn— Like someone, or something, had bit his arm.

You grabbed his collar and yanked him inside your house. You closed the door and locked it back to the way it was before, before turning around abruptly. “Cheongsan.”

“I’m… I can’t stay here.” he said, before opening his mouth but hesitating. He took a deep breath. “I was bitten by… Someone who’s kind of a zombie. But not really. I think I’ll turn soon.”

Then why did you come? you thought. You didn’t care. You didn’t care if he would turn while locked in the same room as you. Honestly, you’d prefer it if he turned with you around. So you could die together. But Cheongsan cared. He would never want to put you in this kind of danger. So why was he here?

Oh. You understood.

“I just wanted to say goodbye.” he said, and you knew. You felt your throat burn and noticed with how much difficulty he gulped. His eye was red, like he wanted to cry. You both wanted to cry. He didn’t wanna say goodbye. You wouldn’t let him say goodbye.

Before you could say anything, he grabbed the sides of your arms and pulled you towards him. He planted his lips on yours in a short, desperate kiss. You wanted it to last, you wanted it to last so long you’d die. You didn’t want him to speak. You didn’t want him to say that he was sorry and he should leave. You didn’t want him to say he loved you like it was the last time he’d be able to. But he pulled away and looked at you, sad.

“I should leave. I’m sorry. I love you.”

It was Cheongsan. Of course he’d say it. You grabbed his wrist and held it tight. It was warm, his skin. Not much like a zombie, much more like him. You’d missed the feel of it. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

He looked away.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m leaving, now.”

“No, you’re not.”

You suddenly moved towards the living room, pulling him along, before pulling him in front of you and holding him in place. “You’re not leaving this damn place, Lee Cheongsan.”

“No, I have to. [name], I’m gonna turn—”

“Does it look like I give a fuck? Look me in my eye and tell me if it looks like I fucking care, Cheongsan.” you said sternly, before coughing out a bitter laugh. “I’m selfish, so you’re staying. I haven’t seen you in way too long. I spent hours worrying about wether or not you were alive. Now that I know you are, I’ll spend all the time we have left with you. Zombie or not. You’re staying here.”

He must’ve felt there was no point in arguing, because he frowned, then sighed, and lowered his arms. He bit his lip and slowly nodded. There were tears at the corner of his eye. You glanced at the injured one and instinctively moved your gaze away.

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Kind of.”

You couldn’t help how upset your expression was in this moment. You didn’t like seeing him in pain. You were certain he’d gone through far worse pains during the time you weren’t in contact but it still made you worry. His hands twitched at his sides.

“I’m gonna turn.” he said quietly. You nodded, only bringing him closer. You wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Yeah.”

“I might kill you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I don’t want to kill you.”

“Then you won’t.”

You weren’t pretending. You weren’t scared. You’d sort of given up on the idea of being scared of zombies, at this point. People themselves could be considered scarier, anyway. And this was the person closest to you. The person you’d put above everyone else. This was Lee Cheongsan. And maybe it was wishful thinking, but you strongly believed he wouldn’t hurt you. Or that at least, he wouldn’t kill you. You didn’t know how the virus worked, considering how little information you had access to, but if there was a way for him not to turn completely, it would happen. After all, he hadn’t told you he was bitten by an actual zombie. From what he said, it seemed like your theory was plausible, and that the boy could very well stay at least half human.

You felt his muscles twitch under your embrace, his back stretching and him wincing. His jaw was tense, as was every muscle in his body. He groaned in pain and you felt his hands grab the hem of your shirt and tighten around the fabric. He wanted to get away from you— You wouldn’t let him. His body contorted to the best of its ability while stuck in your arms, before falling completely limp against your hold. You lost balance due to the sudden shift in weight and fell on the floor with a yell.

It hurt your head and for a moment your attention was elsewhere, as you winced in pain. You huffed and looked up. The ceiling. Then you looked down. Under your chin, Cheongsan’s head. And… All over you… Well, Cheongsan. He was completely unmoving. His chest was on yours, yet you couldn’t feel his heartbeat. Your fingers touched the side of his neck.

His pulse was there. It was faint, but it was there. That was odd. From what you’d understood, the zombies invading your city were basically dead and the virus was what kept them on their feet. So why… Was he alive?

You stayed like this for a while. Maybe it was a minute, maybe ten. You couldn’t be sure, you’d kind of zoned out. But eventually, you felt him move. He groaned in pain, and then slowly pushed himself off the floor— and, well, you. He was breathing heavily. He was breathing. He looked down at you like he was confused. Otherwise… He looked perfectly fine.

“…[name].”

You didn’t reply. You didn’t need to. He was Cheongsan. There was no doubting it. He wasn’t some undead human-turned-zombie. He wasn’t like the ones you’d seen running in the forest while staring out the window before. He was Cheongsan, with the same gaze you knew.

Except he looked …Hungry. He gulped and panted a little.

“I really want to bite you.”

“Are you certain you haven’t seen anyone walk around there? Someone who looks human? There’s a group of zombies with… Human behavior. We’re looking for them.”

You sighed and leaned against your doorframe. “Listen, Officer. As it happens, I don’t spend my days staring out the window to check if zombies are crawling around. That’s your fucking job to do, not mine. I have studying to do, actually. Exams are coming up. And this is the third time you ask me. Could you tell your team to leave me the fuck alone when you go back? Thanks.”

The cop hesitated before closing his mouth and nodding. “Sorry. Thank you. Have a good day. And if you decide you want to come to the camp, you can contact us—”

“You as well!”

You closed the door with a slam and locked it (out of habit) before heaving a sigh. You were really annoyed, quite frankly. You did have to study, that was right. Since it had been a few months since the explosions in Hyosan, it was not surprising that you’d eventually received an email telling you school had resumed. So the incessant visits from police officers and the military weren’t exactly ideal. It seemed living in a remote area near a place that was literally bombed down, and not having done any effort to leave it or go to the safe zone was considered a bit odd, if not straight-up suspicious. It was understandable, if you were honest. But it didn’t make it any less irritating.

“It’s like you get less and less polite each time they come to ask you questions.” someone said behind you. You sighed and turned around, walking over to your desk and sitting down on the chair.

“Well, obviously.” you exhaled, stretching your arms in front of you. “I’m not exactly free.”

You looked over your shoulder to see Cheongsan leaning on the wall next to the hallway and smiling. You grinned and spun in your chair. “What?”

“Nothing. I’m just happy.”

“You’re an idiot.”

You turned back to your desk with a smile as Cheongsan cursed back at you. You heard him laugh and walk over to you, before wrapping his arms around your neck. He set his chin on top of your head and sighed in content.

“I’m gonna go out tonight. Namra told me the fixed dates for “that” were on the last fridays of each month.” he said quietly. You moved your head up right as he did and stared up at him, smiling. You pet the side of his face and he leaned into your palm, a gentle smile on his lips.

“Okay. Take care when you go out.” you said. He nodded.

“I will.”

You stared at him. He was pretty. He was happy. He was better, now. His wounds had healed, and he looked healthier and more well-rested. You stared at him long, and long enough for you to frown. You spun around in your chair to face him and extended your hand towards him. He instinctively leaned down towards you.

You fixed his eyepatch and tutted, shaking your head. “You look like Kaneki Ken, like this.”

He laughed and tilted his head. “Really? I must look pretty cool, then.”

“Yeah.” you sighed, scoffing a little as you leaned back on your chair. “You look like an idiot who selflessly puts others before himself and somehow pulls off cool shit without getting killed. You are pretty similar.”

He lightly hit your arm and laughed, while you smiled. You also have to eat the way he does, is something you both thought but didn’t say. Turns out, he never did bite you. He said he wanted to when he turned, but never did. He always managed not to. Even when you told him it was fine, that you didn’t mind if it helped him stay alive. But he never did. And eventually, he found alternatives— Thanks to Namra, partially. So it was okay.

Now you lived a life as odd as anyone else’s after this crisis. You lived in your remote little house in the forest, hiding your boyfriend-turned-half-zombie while studying for university entrance exams online. Things were weird, but things were good. You preferred them that way. During the past few months, Cheongsan had told you all about what happened at the school. He’d told you about how he wanted to text you the moment everything went down but he was in the cafeteria and his phone wasn’t with him. He told you about everytime he almost died, and every time one of your friends did. He told you he saw him mom. He told you about Onjo’s dad. He told you why he was injured. He told you, because he needed to tell you. He told you because he needed you to know the reason he wanted to cry. And he cried, and so did you. It felt as painful as it felt relieving. Now you knew about what had went down, but you also knew about the deaths of people you loved and cared about. That was a harsh and cold reality that made you cry despite your preparation for it. Nothing could make you emotionless enough not to react to that. Maybe that was a good thing, but it hurt.

During all that time, you got him new clothes. The bloody uniform was getting a little old. Despite the memories it held, he refused to throw it away. You understood. Maybe it was because it held that many memories that he wanted to keep it. So it sat quietly in the middle of his clothes.

He got an eyepatch, too, to cover the scar. He kept going on about how cool he looked and you’d always insult him in return. He couldn’t even put it right, this idiot. It got you smiling.

You and Cheongsan had always loved each other. He’d finally told you when your last day at school came around, giving you his nametag as he cleared his throat and tried to confess. So you gave him yours and only grinned as you left the school. You texted a lot before everything happened. You’d only then realized how lonely you felt without his texts and calls. Your friend texted you too, before. But… Things happened.

Cheongsan asked you out, too. You thought it was dumb, and that you two were practically already dating at this point, anyway. He insisted. So you said yes. It was nice to think about. Cheongsan’s my boyfriend, you’d think, then smile like an idiot. It wasn’t so bad to make it official.

Cheongsan was alright, and so were you. That was all that mattered. Things were okay.

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“To me…”

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Some Moon and Sun doodles for a story I'm writing :D

I don't have the fine details ironed out yet, but the ideas are too strong so now I have yet another fic to work on inbetween other stuff

Listen. Moon and Sun....pretty cool....

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otherworldly ~ coraline!au

PAIRING ~ jimin x reader

GENRE ~ horror/thriller, smut

WORD COUNT ~ 11k

SUMMARY ~ when you discover a tiny door in your home that leads to a much better version of your own life, it seems too good to be true. little do you know, the man posing as your boyfriend may be a lot more dangerous than you care to admit. and he is not intent on letting you leave.

WARNINGS ~ profanity, supernatural themes, obsessive behavior, imprisonment, depiction of an unhealthy relationship, masturbation, explicit smut (dom!jimin, sensory deprivation, bondage, soft degradation, cunnilingus, edging, unprotected sex)

A/N ~ part 1 of 3. based off of my favorite movie and novel: Coraline. thank you to everyone who’s shown their support for this monster of a fic! i hope i did this well-loved movie justice!

copyright © 2019-2020 under sinning-on-a-sunday. do not repost or translate my works without my explicit permission. this includes stealing my ideas/plot.

prologue

For the first time in ages, sunlight trickles down through the tree’s naked branches, warming the woman’s skin to the point where her heavy jacket isn’t necessary. She considers it a cruel coincidence. Why should the rest of the world be so happy and bright when she’s spent the last few months suffering?

Her brother’s been missing for weeks, the sun shouldn’t be shining.

Even though the weather is nice, mud still sloshes under her boots as she walks, icy fingers clutching at the object in her hands like it will wriggle away and escape if she loosens her grip.

She reaches the crest of the hill, coming to stop at the ring of mushrooms that surrounds the opening of the well. She vows to board it up later so that, hopefully, people will forget it’s there.

The woman looks down at the object in her hands: a doll with button eyes. It resembles a boy with brown hair, longer at the nape of his neck so that it’s almost a mullet. He’s wearing a red beret, trench coat, and small circular glasses; he looks like an artist.

She recognizes the style, she recognizes him.

Gritting her teeth, the woman steps up to stand at the edge of the well, open and gaping like a hungry, waiting mouth.

She remembers the day this infernal doll appeared in their house, she remembers how excited her brother had been. He’d carried it around with him everywhere, going on and on about how it looked just like him.

He disappeared a few days later.

A few tears prick the woman’s eyes.

No, he didn’t disappear. He was taken.

Keep reading

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happy 10th anniversary, 방탄소년단 ♡

let's meet in 2025! (cr. namuspromised, 0613data)

all of us are dead — han gyeong-su “helpless” warning : cringe

Gyeong-su munch his chips, putting one after one, the loudness of each bite causes you to cringe at him. Hoping that he'll have some goddamn self awareness that will creep up on him to knock him in the head. Currently, the two of you sat alone in the classroom. Him, quote-being-a-good-friend-that-you-should-be-thankful-for-quote, offers you some company while you study for the upcoming test.

An exasperated sigh left your lips, dragging your hand along your face as you side eyed him, borrowing your phone to play some games and scroll through the media. “Could you tone it down with the crunches? It's getting annoying.”

“Hmmmmm.. no.”

The boy popped another chip and bite on it loudly like before, this time, on purpose. Getting on your nerves is one of his favorite hobby after all.

Hehe.

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose for the nth time of the moment. “Dumbass Gyeong-su.” You swore, rolling your eyes as he nonchalantly likes some videos, chuckling at them with an obnoxious laugh making you smile in amusement.

With a sigh, you returned back to writing down your notes, heart thumping in your chest in content. For now..

Let's just cherish this moment.

“Hey.” Gyeong-su craned his neck to look at you. wiping his fingers after licking all the powder off with a satisfied hum. What greets him was your head, plopping on his shoulder. Exhaustion took over your body.

The boy stayed still. Not knowing what to do.

He glanced at you, chest heaving up and down peacefully, asleep like a baby. His eyes travelling to your face where he caught sight of your eye bags—the excessive times you stay up late, studying so hard to pass your academic grades.

Gyeong-su admired you.

Not just looking up at you because of your dedication but also because you're just.. just so perfect..

So charming in his eyes that he can't help but unconsciously lift his hand to brush your hair that seemingly obscure his sight—your beauty.

Thump.

Thump.

He felt his heartbeat quicken. Mentally scolding himself that you might hear the loud drums inside his chest.

Gyeong-su knows; you're way out of his league. You were all that he never is. But that is why his eyes shine for you. He ‘choked’ his hand that was planning to cup your cheeks, screaming at it in his head.

What the fuck is wrong with me?!

Thump.

And there it is again.

Gyeong-su covered his face, feeling it flush in a deep red, his leg bouncing up and down. Flustered, is what he feel. Fuck. You're so damn oblivious of his advances that he doesn't know whether or not be grateful. He wants you to notice him at the same time not—this friendship that he had built with you, he doesn't want to end it if it somehow all goes south.

“What do I do ohhh God, what the fuck do I do..?” He murmured into his hands.

Grumbling, Gyeong-su reaches out to slightly poke you.

And it felt wrong, but it felt just right. Is what it feels like if we are together? His mind stilled into euphoria at the thought.

He tries so hard not to scream, his crush, laying on his shoulder—fuck, if he could, he would've ran away and bashed his head into the wall to remind himself that this is reality and not a damn dream.

Feeling you stir, Gyeong-su stiffen in his spot before slowly easing up, adjusting your head so that you won't fall.

Maybe..

It isn't that bad..

Just a few minutes.

A few more.

“Han y/n...”

With eyes wide at what fell out of his mouth, Gyeong-su punched himself, awakening you from your slumber.

“Wha?!”

You sat up straight, eyes snapping to Gyeong-su immediately who cradle his head. “Gyeong-su?! What happened? Are you okay?!”

“ughh Fuck.. do I look like I am?” He grumbles, hand holding his jaw from the impact. “ssibal.”

“What were you doing, honestly.”

“I had a mental crisis of what I should eat today.”

You scrunched you nose at his response before giggling, “Geez, really..”

Slinging your bag over to your shoulder, standing up to pat the boy, “Come on, let's go.” You usher, hand outstretched for him to grab on to.

“Hnnn, hold on, my jaw still hurts.”

“Leave it to hurt more, let's go eat, my treat.”

“OHHH y/n you're so generous today! Have you gone mad- I mean, kind because of too much studying?”

“Keep talking and I'll take it all back.”

“Sorry sorry, please no take backs! Oh wonderful y/n!” You drag him, poor boy nearly stumbling face plant to the ground. “Whoa!”

You walk in front of him, the hand that intertwine with his squeezes slightly. It was a good thing that you are leading the way, dragging him, or else Gyeong-su would've seen your face. Flustered and hot.

Han y/n... actually sounds nice.

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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 :)

---

I hope I understood it correctly, but for the MTL thing, I’d like to ask for a 💖 soulmate Au where the soulmates can communicate by writing on their skin and it will appear on the other one’s?

FOLLOWER EVENT - most likely to & fanfic tropes most likely to have a writing on skin soulmate - albedo, scaramouche, xiao

albedo is organized in a disorganized way. what seems like an awful idea to others is a perfectly acceptable method of operation to him, especially when it comes to the brilliant concept of writing chemical formulas down on his arm. sure, he would prefer pencil and paper, but he forgot his notebook at the base of the mountain and, well, in the midst of dragonspine, you make the supplies you have work. and yet, as question marks in a different color of ink begin to pop up around the formula, albedo's chemical eureka is quickly forgotten. when the words i have a soulmate?! appear on his arm, albedo realizes this may be his greatest discovery of all... that is, as long as he can come up with a decent enough excuse as to why he hasn't been responding to your notes (i.e. devising a way to explain that he is most certainly human and not made of chalk), but trial and error is always a part of the experimentation process... right?

please avoid writing on your skin today. i have important meetings. scaramouche stifles a laugh upon reading the words written on his skin and realizes that his goodnight messages have long since been washed off by you. you are scaramouche's best kept secret and, from what he can tell, you keep him equally close to your heart and away from prying eyes. after the two of you grew out of your teenage years, you had quickly delimited which areas of the skin are acceptable for writing on and which aren't, easily coming up with several key areas for exchanging information. so, each day, scaramouche goes to work with the fatui while wearing a scowl on his face, only to smile at the soft messages you scrawl in small handwriting across his forearm. to those around him, scaramouche is all rough edges and frustrated words, yet to you, scaramouche lowers his guard and reveals a side to you that only you are able to witness. it is shown through soft sentiments written only for you. as for actually finding you? well, scaramouche can dream of the possibility of seeing his words on your arms, wherever you might be.

xiao has lived thousands of years, many of which he spent isolated from others. so, understandably, he metaphorically shits his pants when he sees pen marks on his arm for the first time (he does not literally shit his pants. he is determined to let everyone know that adepti are too refined to lose control of their bowels, unlike measly mortals). he... doesn't really know what to do. so, for the next fifteen years, he ignores it. he can tell by your penmanship that you're getting older, likely at least twenty in mortal years by this point. and yet, it takes him that long to finally, finally respond to you. his handwriting isn't the best -- he hasn't written in what feels like a millennium (and very well may be so). xiao doesn't understand the nervousness boiling in the pit of his stomach as he awaits a response, but it quickly fades away as you draw a smiley face and a heart in response to his apology for not being in contact. an uncontrollable smile spreads across his face at the sight. when you quickly inform him that you're half-adeptus, meaning the two of you have all the time in the world to make up for the last twenty years, xiao feels something in his chest that he hasn't felt in centuries: hope.

---

Part two of this hehehehe yknow i actually planned and had written something for xiao as part two bust decided to make that one part three instead hehe fair warning this is shit but it's all that i could do at this point

Each step you take is light; you remain careful as you walk over green grass and even greener leaves, the occasional twig snapping quietly. Birds chirp among the trees and finches fly around, a truly serene sight— 

If only you didn't hate it all. 

You can feel them watching you, gazes unwavering and unrelenting, digging deep into your skin. You almost feel like a prey, despite knowing exactly why they're so focused on you.

They're guilty.

You scoff to yourself, a glare on your face. They still have the audacity to feel guilty, to kneel and beg for forgiveness as if a little sorry can just make you forget months of beings hunted, of beings hated and attacked and hurt and nearly killed—

The deep wound on your stomach, covered by thick bandages, pulses as if it can still feel the way Xiao's spear had— it had—

No. No. You didn't, you don't want to remember how—

Desperately, you press your hand against your mouth and close your eyes. Like this, you can pretend it never happened. Like this, your world can get quiet and still and silent and you can pretend you're elsewhere, maybe the park near your home, maybe your mother's gardens, anywhere but here surrounded by your murderers and killers.

At least you haven't seen hair or hide of that monster. You had not dared ask about them and the monsters here did not mention them at all.

"Your grace?"

Klee is tugging on your hand, worried eyes peering up at you. She has a frown on her face, an unusual and unnatural expression to see on her and despite everything you feel your heart lurch in concern for her. "Why," she begins, voice hushed and lips trembling. "Why are you crying, your grace?"

Oh, you're crying.

You blink at her, roughly wiping your tears away. They still continue to fall, and your hands still shake when you cup her face and why can't you find it in yourself to smile to soothe her—

"Please don't— don't cry," you stumble on your words, voice hoarse and quiet because your nightmares of that day have you screaming and tearing at your own body every night and you haven't been exactly quiet when dealing with the horrid people that have placed you in this suffocating teapot, even if it is to help you heal better. "Don't cry, Klee, please,"

"But you're sad. Klee hates seeing you so sad," Klee sniffs, wide eyes welling with tears. You know that had it not been for almost all of the adults telling the kids not to hug you because of your injury, she would've by now thrown herself in your arms.

"I'm not sad, Klee," you say but it's a lie and you both know it. "I—"

"Klee!" Jean calls for the girl as she jogs over. She kneels immediately, not looking in your eyes. "I am so sorry, your grace, I told her not to bother you but she must've—"

You don't listen to her. You can't listen to her because you can still remember how she'd once pointed her sword at you, hatred swimming in her eyes.

You turn your back to her and leave.

There are more people in the teapot's mansion than you remember, than you feel comfortable with, and they all try to reach out to you but you brush past them shoulders tense and hands shaking.

You want to be alone.

"Your grace, wait! Your injury—" someone's hand, gloved and yet coldcoldcold clasps around your wrist before you could bump against the door handle to your room.

You glare at Zhongli even as you tremble, barely able to hold back a horrified sob, a scared scream because you can still remember all too well how your windpipe gave way under his cruel hold.

"Don't touch me." You say, voice as hallow as your monstrous twin's eyes had been. They must be happy, you think. They must be beyond happy at my state.

"Don't touch me, Zhongli. Don't ever touch me."

And not even his tears soothe the aches in your heart nor the bleeding of your wounds.

---

The Taste of Deceit: Hyungline Part 2 Finale (Namjoon 2/2)

The Taste of Deceit Masterlist

Hyungline: Part 1, Part 2(Jin and Yoongi, Hoseok), Part 1/2

Warning- Blood, violence

Unedited. Kindly excuse my errors. if you find anything significantly wrong, please let me know.

This has to be my most annoying experience with Tumblr.

The club was packed. Packed to the brim.

Neon lights flickered along with artificial smoke as the beat made the crowd cheer and hoot, raise their hands as the DJs played mash hits. It was the party season and those who could afford to be in any of Lee Henchin's clubs were having a blast.

A shadow moved seamlessly between the dancing and grinding bodies. Smoke, alcohol and even white power on some. As midnight occurred, the beats grew more intense. But the shadow glided towards the underground kitchen.

.

"We are done for the night." Lee Henchin plopped down on the velvet sofa, throwing his head back.

"Thanks man." He thanked his guest who poured him a drink before filling is own glass.

"My pleasure." the man smiled before taking gulp.

"Now that we are free, we can speak of what is truly important. So, Mr Park. It would have been an honour though, had your boss graced his place with his presence."

"I suppose you have the information what happened with the deal regarding the gulf shipment."

"I have heard about the deal and how terribly wrong it went. It's a joint-loss." Henchin nodded as he took a swig before refilling his glass.

Mr Park observed him. For moments, none of them spoke.

"He wants a favour."

The hallway on the second floor was lit up with neon green and blue, but a certain turn led to a corridor plunged in red. The trolley rolled smoothly though the surface– the three-tire filled bottles of scotch and bourbon, ice– mixers and garnishes. It was a bar on wheels.

Henchin would leave no stone unturned in providing the best hospitality to people important to him– those who could bring him profit.

"Nobody has seen him for a while now Mr Park. There are rumours floating all around."

Mr Park only smiled before finishing his drink.

"Lets get down to business shall we?"

.

The smooth roll of the three tired tray came to a quiet stop as soon as a hand rose in the air.

"We need to check your ID first." The imposing man loomed over six feet.

"But I work here."

"It's Boss' order. Now, ID please." he demanded gruffly, leaving no room for argument.

"Sure." The waitress nodded and turned her eyes to her side to pull out the exclusive ID Card.

.

"Why not Gangnam? There are still many clubs waiting for their share– they paid millions Mr Park."

"There is a shift in priority Henchin. You are our most important distributor– you wield influence over the market here like no other. We have expectations for you."

'Well, Gangnam is where most of the money flows from and–"

"Twelve million."

"Sorry?"

"Twelve million, in dollars. Last time it was six right, we offer you a deal of twelve million dollars."

All incoming excuses dried up in Henchin's mouth as she leaned back to weigh his options and profits."

"You can think closely of it for now. Excuse me." With that Mr Park excused himself to the restroom.

.

The bodyguard frowned.

"This is not—"

His head jerked back before he could finish his words. The bullet was faster.

The other three guards jumped to action even before the dead guard's body touched the ground.

(Y/N) jumped on one of them, locking his head between her head while leveraging the position to shoot down two of the guards in succession.

The man in her hold elbowed her back as they both landed on the ground, struggling to gain control. (Y/N) did not leave his head, her knees tightened around his neck while she blocked another blow from him.

His leg latched on to her arm blocked his elbow, managing to free his hand from her grip. Instead, it stretched and reached for her throat. She jabbed her elbow on his arm with enough force to bend it. He screamed in agony and that gave her all the time to shoot him right in his head.

Blood splashed on the floor as the man lay dead with open eyes.

(Y/N) looked up at the sound of rushing footsteps. Of course...

She fired at the approaching men while unlatching the dead man from her. Three more silenced gunshots fired at the men– mission one, injuring the other and killing one with a headshot.

When they fired, their gunshots alerted the whole floor.

"Shit!"

She had rolled away at the right moment but a bullet did manage to graze her arm. She breathed deeply as pain spread across her arm, but there was no room to rest. Quickly grabbing the dead guard's gun, she shot the attackers dead.

But of course, this was not the end. Cursing, she took the now dead guards' guns. She needed them. And more. Rushing towards the beginning of the corridor, she used the wall as a shield, slowing them down as she fired at them. Two of them down. Four three bullets gone, and the other three had ducked behind walls as well.

Great!

She hissed, narrowly missing a bullet when her injured arm was strained further, drawing out more blood. But she had no time to tend to that.

As soon as another head peeked out, she fired. A head shot– one more down. But there was no time to engage in a gunfire battle for long. Firing another round, she managed to injure another before bolting towards the room Henchin was at.

Quickly grabbing the ID now speckled with blood,  she inserted it to a slit and the door unlocked.

She shot the first guard who came into view. Then using the door to shield herself from other bullets, she shot the nearest attacker's foot, earning a pained scream but he managed to swing his arm. She blocked it mid-air, stabbing her feet on his shot foot– but his scream was caught midway when she shot him in the neck while shutting the door lock.

Henchin's scream vaguely reached her ears as he scrambled to get away.

"KILL HER! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LOOKING AT?"

.

The muffled sounds of gunshots echoed in the isolated restroom as Mr Park calmly fixed the buttons of his suit. His eyes gleamed with the ghost of a smile as he checked his watch.

.

She groaned at one of the his men kicked the back of her knee, making her fall flat on the ground. His foot stomped over the back of her knee and she wheezed. She fired her gun, shooting his right on his shin. His leg moved from her and he fell on her and squeezed her injured arm.

"Argh! Son of a bitch!"

It was painful, to say the least. Using all her weight, she flipped him over and pinned him with her knees and a hand on his throat, while firing on the rest of her two attackers. She punched the man underneath her in two successive blows before looking up again.

Her eyes finally found her target scrambling to get away or get a gun. Keeping her steeled and ranging gaze locked with his flabbergasted and terrified one, she smirked coldly and shot the man underneath her dead.

.

Mr Park's hands were tucked in his trouser pockets. The sound of crashing and breaking reached his ears. He turned his head slightly before checking his watch again.

It was time.

.

(Y/N) dodged the filled bottle of alcohol thrown at her as she dashed towards him. His hands were faster however, stabbing her on the shoulder right as she reached him grabbing his throat. She hissed, but continued to attack nevertheless.

The sound of footsteps was easily distinguishable in the otherwise deathly silent room. No hurry, no aggression, just slow, calculated steps. Both of them turned to look at Mr Park who stood at a distance.

"P-Park help me!"

Henchin demanded.

"Sure, Lee."

With that, Mr Park fired and they both stilled.

(Y/N) frowned when no bullet reached her, but instead, she turned to see the last of Henchin's men in the room drop dead.

But the distraction was enough for him to spring to action.

"FUCK YOU!"

In a moment, Henchin flipped her down, grabbing his previously discarded tie and wrapping it around her neck while he tried to stab her. He was going for her eye but one hand grabbed his wrist while the other went to poke his eye. The lapse in his strength gave her the perfect opportunity to bend his hand and jabbed the knife into his neck.

She blinked and her face was marred with his blood.

Finally, gaining the upper hand, she flipped him off and before he could move further, fired three shots at him.

Breathless, worn out and beat, she lay on the floor. Her throat parched, her body aching and her eyes filled up with unshed tears. One stray drop escaped through the corner of her eyes. The ceiling above was lit with golden lights but all she could see was her father's face.

"Are you crazy? We can't let you go alone!" Kyong would not relent, no matter what.

"This is personal Kyong. This is my battle."

He shook his head "I know you blame yourself for Dok's—"

"Henchin's men came that night. He was the one behind my father's murder Kyong. I saw it all unfold, hiding. And I could not do anything..."

"You were a child! What else could you do?" Han spoke up this time.

"But now I can...And I will. I can't let you both risk everything this time."

"But—"

"Kyong, please. You both want to help me? Ease my way in. Try to cover up for me...Even if I do not return."

"You are your father's daughter (Y/N). I had only heard of that man." Kyong was finally relenting.

"I am." her eyes moved to the tiger stuff toy sitting behind a shelf.

She understood the meaning behind her father's last gift now.

"If you are not back in an hour, (Y/N), we are coming up. No matter what happens."

"Kyong is right. One hour (Y/N) and you let us know if something goes wrong."

With a long sigh, she nodded.

The sound of sauntering footsteps and the glass shards crunching beneath the shoes brought her back to reality.

"My Lady..."

The voice was mellifluous but held a certain dip to it. His face cam into view before he offered his hand. Begrudgingly, she accepted it and stood up, finally feeling all the injuries hit her now that the adrenaline had left her body. His grip did not loosen though, instead, he turned it into a handshake.

"I'm Jimin. Park Jimin."

She nodded, still assessing him.

Why did he help her? Why was there not any sigh of caution or strain in his body language?

He was confident, calm, collected. He was no ordinary man.

"Oh, sorry, I never had the chance to meet you. Before hyung could introduce you us...You flew away."

Her frown smoothened in recognition.

Of course, he was Kim Namjoon's man. And the way he addressed the Underworld leader, she concluded that he was a part of Namjoon's close circle.

"How is he?"

Jimin smiled "Why don't you find out yourself?" with that, he fished out his phone and dialled a number before offering her his phone. Reluctantly, she took it.

"Hello? Jimin, any updates?"

Her heart skipped a beat. It had felt like an eternity. There was silence when she did not reply before he broke it himself

"(Y/N)?" There was a tremble in his voice.

"How are you Namjoon?" she finally asked.

"Your shot my shoulder when you could aim for my head. It just proves your love."

She shut her eyes and licked her lips.

"We can never be one Namjoon..."

"I could have saved Henchin...But I wanted to prove you my love."

"I don't doubt your love Namjoon...Think of it as wrong person, worst time. And forget me."

She heard him chuckle through the phone.

"You can run...for now. Not for long. I will find you Little Bird. i will reach you and then we can defy time, circumstances and the bloody destiny."

(Y/N) stood in silence as her stare hardened.

"You can try."

With that, she hung up and returned the phone to Jimin.

"It was nice meeting you, Mr Park."

Jimin smiled and nodded.

"Likewise." He replied as he watched her walk away. A bit slow, slightly limping but with a good grasp over her gun.

***

Finally, finished it.

2023 was a year. There was so much happening and going with the flow was the only option.

I tend to let things sink in before I fully assess and feel the intensity of my emotions. And BTS' enlistment was no different. Yes, Jin and Jhope's last MVs brought tears to my eyes, but none of their buzz-cut photos did. Then, before going to bed, I saw Namjoon's Instagram story before he joined the bootcamp...And I burst into tears. There were several reason, several aspects, my loss, my hopelessness, the post just acted as a trigger.

I used to think that I could always comfort myself, that I could handle things on my own--as I always have done. But that night, I realised how battered and tired I were. The year sucked me dry somehow, or maybe it was the final straw. But I realised that now and then, i need another person's comfort too. That sharing my grief with the right people would not make me a burden.

I think this is one of the reasons why this reaction stretched so much. It's 51k words in total (Part 1 and 2)-- only for hyngline. This was the way I found some comfort-- writing, and publishing it here.

So, no matter how the year went, I'm thankful to all of you for reading my stories.

A very happy and prosperous new year ahead my friends.

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