Bts Kth - Tumblr Posts
SIMINVEST OUR BEST FRIEND!
NO TO CYBERBULLYING ❌ TAKE A STAND 💜 KISS OFF CYBERBULLYING 💋
NO TO CYBERBULLYING ❌ STOP CYBERBULLYING 🚨
TAKE A STAND 💜 KISS OFF CYBERBULLYING 💋 GO ABOVE FANSERVICE 🙋🏻♂️
SPREAD LOVE, RESPECT, CONSIDERATION, INTEGRITY, UNDERSTANDING, DEVOTION TO VALUES AND BOUNDARIES
A YouTube reaction to Taehyung by an American Korean language teacher:
He broke down his style of speech in detail. He said Tae mostly speaks very politely and even when being direct he inserts "softeners". The guy added that his correct speech is rarely shown in the subtitles, which he believes Tae is possibly aware of.
Is the company promoting "savage" V for entertainment?
This is really sad!!!
It was a fascinating video.
What about the company’s rude captions in official company content? (They’re so many that I can’t put all of them here. It has always been like that since the beginning.)
TAEKOOK = TAEHYUNG + JUNGKOOK 💜💚
🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
They are so cute 🥹😍🔥
They are handsome 🔥🔥
@flyedits
猨ぽ: Taehyung. ↬ icons. ♡
like or reblog if you save \ dê like ou reblog se salvar.
ahh!! thank you so much for reading 💜
colours - kth
pairings: singledad!taehyung x artist!reader
synopsis: when you meet a little girl at a park by chance, who would've thought that you'd be falling in love with the man who had the exact same boxy smile as her in such little time?
genre: angst, fluff, smut (18+); strangers to lovers
warning(s): angst, marking/biting, some dry humping, unprotected sex (safe sex is sexxxyy!!!), some loving, teasing, OC has a praise kink. (individual warning(s) will be provided for each chapter).
series word count: 43k
series release date: August 13, 2021
series status: completed
series [1] [2] [3] [4] [Epilogue]
tag list: closed
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↳ main masterlist
BETWEEN COMFORT & CHAOS | 001
wc: 2k
tense & pov: present, third person
tracklist:
002 | 003 | 004 | AO3
Inconveniences.
Small, quaint, little blips in a routine.
Like tiny, little lint balls lining the inside of a shirt - a shirt that had been practically flawless prior to the misfortunes of laundry day; discomforting, irritating, but miniscule enough to dismiss. To learn to tolerate.
Inconveniences.
Small, quaint, little blips in a rushed run-down of a formerly organic routine.
The first of which, a missed alarm - correction, it would have been ‘missed’ if so it had run in the first place. Rin, however, had forgotten to turn the dial on her bedside clock the night prior.
It rang around 9 AM, instead; a rise time for off days.
Today is Monday. The opposite of an off day.
Rin stumbles out of the cushioned embrace of her bed, entangled at the ankles by a knot in the sheets, which she doesn't became aware of until the solid wood of the floor slaps her chin.
The unanticipated impact leaves her breathless for a number of seconds, before she releases a long and painful groan. Her ribs contract at the slightest twist, in response to what Rin can only imagine is a developing bruise, as she starts up and towards the adjoining bathroom.
She scrambles for her cellphone amidst the sheets that billow around her like a dress, or a cloud.
When she lifts the screen to her line of sight, she squints through the dimness to find its display of a low battery warning. There's another painful blow to her cheek, only this time it's not from the dense, solid wood, rather the weight of realizing she'd forgotten to plug it in the night prior.
Unfortunately, this is not the first occurrence. She makes a habit of sleeping the night with her phone at the foot of her bed, unplugged. At first, only ever intends to scroll her socials mindlessly for increments of half-hours until midnight falls; means to lay it on its charging port by then, but more often than not, drifts into slumber before that point. In the morning, it's always the same; she reprimands herself, promises to never do it again.
The next night, unsurprisingly to everyone but her, she does it again. Jennie, her teenage sister, jokes that her forgetfulness will one day be her demise; says something along the lines of "She'll forget the date and place of her funeral."
With about 20% residual battery (estimating up, for the sake of optimism), her screen illuminates. A sort of squawk leaves her parted lips as she reads the time. A squawk like that of a goose with its tail feathers catching light.
She’s up, now, legs squared determinedly. Yet, she trips clumsily over sleep-drugged feet while they wrestle with the persistent tug of the sheets who plead Stay, just this once.
Trampling over miscellaneous objects scattered around her bedroom floor, she reminds herself of the urgency with which she must clean her room, but it's only one of many tasks on her immediate to-do.
Right now is not the time.
Her tail’s on fire. Heart’s pumping erratically. Adrenaline saturating her system. Heat flushing her cheeks and nape.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…”
The second inconvenience of the day is a diluted cup of coffee, served not in her usual thermos, but in the first vase she could salvage out of the pile seated at her sink.
The amber liquid’s aroma falls flat and drowned over her palette; a cloud of candied cotton dampened by humidity on what should have been a sunny festival day.
Groceries, her mental to-do list elongates. Don't forget coffee for tomorrow. Don't' forget coffee, a voice in her mind recites obsessively.
Running groceries today tops all other items on her list in terms of priority. It's more urgent than the cleanliness of her bedroom. She cannot survive another morning living off crackers and a few pinches of coffee grounds. But even more urgent, she must catch her bus and make it to work before her boss hears word of her tardiness.
Rin shuts her eyes, her grip strangles the ceramic handle of the mug as she forces the gulp down, despite the objection of her palette.
She heaves a sigh upon succeeding, and brings the pads of her thumb and forefinger to pinch the bridge of her nose, in a bid to discourage a growing migraine.
Inconveniences. How even the ones you train yourself to dismiss grow unbearable under the right measure of pressure. They keep adding, amounting; a string being pulled, stretched, tensed until it snaps clean. Retracts and slaps you on the cheek. Leaves a red mark, blotchy with blood.
She makes up her mind. Determinedly decides that today is not her day, could not be, will not be. There is no redeeming it, for the more she recites it in her head, the further it continues to manifest itself. Until she's too deeply caught in the whirlpool to convince herself otherwise.
Days like such make her wonder how many inconveniences, exactly, it would take to conclusively alter the course of one’s fate?
The notion isn’t foreign to Rin. She’d read testimonies before, about people who’d been lead away from a tragic fate by some minor and random inconvenience – a blip, or glitch, or something that absolutely shouldn’t have happened, that wouldn’t otherwise have happened, on any given day. Say, the person whose car breaks down on the commute to work, who later discovers through a news report that a shooter unleashed havoc at their work-place, claiming the lives of a dozen victims. A dozen. Could have – would have – been a dozen-and-one if by some stroke of luck, or misfortune, their car had not broken down.
In light of those rare, almost ordained cases, Rin attempts to see light in even the worst possible conditions. Today, though, her optimism is gasping for breath, attempting to match pace with her dashing body. She left it in the heaps of blankets at the foot of her bed.
Silver linings fall dull and mute.
Everything seems to serve as an obstacle in her blazing path.
The keys get lost. Shoe laces become undone. Chatty neighbor happens to step foot out of the house at the same time as Rin; there goes ten priceless minutes of Rin nodding incessantly and feigning a polite smile all the while trying to end the conversation that should have never begun.
Left shoe still undone, her legs slice through the chill morning fog, as she sprints down her neighborhood street. Leaving the rosy-cheeked, grey-haired lady chatting to herself. (She doesn't notice until Rin's five doors down; never really talks to others to hear their perspectives, but rather feel self-important from the influence of their audience)
Rin's worn satchel is pinned under her arm. A young golden sun tints her cheeks with some life, as it streaks in between buildings.
A green bus slows near a couple of gathered people. A half-a-second before it comes to a complete halt, it pries its gates open with an elongated creak.
Rin’s still sprinting a few blocks down. Her chest is galloping, short of air; it burns in that oxygen-deprived way. The fine muscles of her calf, do to. As if they are wearing away under the erosion of acid.
Her pace slows from fatigue and resignation. Starts imagining what's the worst that could happen if she were to half-ass a last minute call-out from work. Stands like an awkwardly placed tree amidst the street, swaying, bag sliding down her frame, shoelaces sprawled over the concrete like roots burying her there.
The breath she gathers to lift her voice and plead for a bit of patience is knocked out of her lungs before the words form at her lips. Her palms slaps against the cold concrete on either side of her already bruised chin, her cheek suspended by mere inches.
The culprit lies on the ground, by her feet, groaning and clutching his knee.
Rin’s lips whisper a forlorn “Noo!” as her eyes watch the bus pick-up and drive-away. Tears pool on her lash line, either from the frost biting her face or in response to the overwhelming frustration that comes with the shattered expectations of what should have been a ‘normal day.’
Normal days are never extravagant, until you are deprived of them. Until you are reminded they are not something inherently owed to you, and that much like all things, they too can be deprived.
Chord snapped, patience drawn thinly, Rin sits up, heated and ready to pounce. Her sharp eyes lock onto the wrecker. She’s made up her mind. She’s ready to name him the culprit of all the inconveniences of today.
When she glances over at the soon-to-be-subject of all of her projected frustrations, that’s when she feels it. The sharp, stinging slap of the metaphorical rubber band against her cheek.
Her throat chokes with the threat of a sob. Just when she thought the day could not possibly get worse, it does.
The biggest inconvenience yet.
The bane of her existence.
A subject she’d sought refuge in never, ever, seeing again.
There’s a distinct luminescence haloing his crouched figure. Could be the early morning sun, beaming over the neighborhood. Could be a concussion. Regardless, it's dizzying. Has this optical illusion effect of making the subject in her field of vision double, like when she'd wear 3D glasses to the cinema.
Rin blinks incessantly. She can’t bring herself to trust her sight. Can’t believe she body-slammed into him of all people. In the seven years she’s spent living in the neighborhood, not once had she brushed shoulders with him.
The last time she'd seen him had been at their high school graduation ceremony - which must have been nearly six years ago, now.
Weighing the abstract concept of time in her shaken mind, she finds it hard to palate how much time has lapsed, and how little he appears to have changed. Like a stand-still capture on a polaroid square, he's just the same.
He scrunches-up his nose in disturbance, and turns over his hand to the palmar side, eyes peeling over his newly acquired abrasion. As the seconds lapse, the adrenaline in his system wanes, and the sting of scraped flesh starts settling in.
He winces and diverts his attention from it, gathering that looking at it only will make it hurt worse.
Dark brown eyes meet Rin as he finally acknowledges the collision. The reality that he’d somehow inconvenienced someone even further than the day had started to inconvenience him.
The halo persists through Rin’s desperate blinking. Futility lies in her attempts to clear her field of vision, as she rubs the dorsal sides of her hands over her eyes in a bid to remove what she believes is only a pesky little speck of dust, a lash, or even a tear.
Inquisition curves his healthy brows but the curiosity quickly dims, becoming replaced with a sour frown. A distasteful grimace. Reality and recognition strike him. But worse than the reel of memories snapped onto the film player of his mind, is the Earth spinning vertigo that comes on as his eyes trace over the aura emanating off her. Brighter than the sun.
Loud-bright. Like a mallet smashed against a bronze bell within his head. Like he’s suddenly developed synesthesia and every glimpse of light is painfully loud.
Rin dances her gaze around, reading the disinterested people who brush hurriedly past. They appear awfully dull in demeanor and appearance in relation to him. Absent of any halo, they are akin to gray bodies blurred into the background scene of the lens of a camera.
Slowly, and fearful, Rin draws her gaze back to him. Traces over the halo.
That’s when her mother’s voice rings across her head, like an ominous tolling bell, indicative of an end. An armageddon. Her armageddon. When I met your father, it was like I could see for the first time.
Rin wouldn’t call this newfound sight, rather sudden-onset blindness. She feels like her optic nerves are being torn by the fibers. Imagines this distortion is was what cats see on a daily basis. Understands why they constantly want to strangle and mangle anything within their vicinity.
She wants to strangle him. Toys with the idea the more she looks at him. The more the lights dizzy her.
Somehow, she places the fault in his hands. She's still run by a childish instinct, to want to kick his shins and run away from his stupidly handsome frown. He had always felt like too much to handle, to understand, to wrap her tiny adolescent mind around. Now, older, and hopefully wiser, Rin still defaults to running away from complexity. Likes to coax life with a broad brush, shoving worries under her bed like monsters to run from, behind closet doors, into the margins of tomorrow.
She figures that if she continuously runs, the problems will never catch up to her. But, she’s only selectively ignorant to the snowball effect. Hopes it amasses enough to crush her at once and allow her no room for reflection on how things could have – should have -- been.
His lips almost mouth Don't run. Fear-stricken. Please, don’t run.
Instead, he voices (cracking voice): “I think I’m having a stroke.” Then braces his clumsy weight against the nearest wall. His breathing quickens, mirroring the alarming panic blaring within Rin.
“What are the chances that we are both having a stroke at the same time?”
He lifts his worried gaze, a bead of sweat forming on his temple, complexion awfully pale. Rin thinks he might just hurl. “What are the chances that you are my soulmate?”
It’s funny, because Rin didn’t see this coming – Rin didn’t see much of today coming, but certainly not what happens next.
Rin is the one that hurls. Chunky acid made its way up the column of her throat without as much as a warning. The contents – whatever it was she managed to down while standing in the fridge light last night.
All over his lavish shoes.
BETWEEN COMFORT & CHAOS | 002
wc: 4k
tense & pov: present, third person
tracklist:
001 | 003 | 004 | AO3
Following such an unpleasant event as puking one’s guts all over another’s shoes would prompt a sane person, at the very least, to ramble numerous, sincere apologies. Some might even feel guilty enough to offer monetary compensation for the inconvenience, to replace the shoes or pay for laundering.
Sanity had been left somewhere over the pile of sheets amidst Rin’s chaotic bedroom.
Rather, she stands painfully still, too mortified to speak, or even blink.
The queasiness persists - exacerbates the longer she forces herself to stand amidst the horrifying scene, helplessly witnessing the unimaginable unfold before her tired eyes. Her stomach churns, rejecting the decaffeinated, poor-excuse-of-a-coffee from earlier, unaided by the persistent and dizzying halo about him.
Experimenting with a nervous and flighty gaze, she finds the discomforting symptoms to be alleviated by looking elsewhere, by rejecting him as the center of her attention. She watches what should still be in her stomach seep into the cracks on the pavement. As she does so, the double perspective of her vision collapses into unison and her legs no longer quiver.
Sanity drained from her, the next-best thing she concocts, improvises in that split of a second, involves prying her body from its petrified stance and running.
It is entirely not unlike her to run, to extract herself from an unpleasant and perplexing situation. She'd always been skewed towards flight rather than fight.
She’ll argue she’s doing him a favor by saving the rest of his clothing garments from her nervous incontinence. She'll hurry back to her life to pretend as though today never occurred, as though two distinct paths did not transect by some ordained force beyond her comprehension.
Then, he, too, could resume his life, unbothered, unchanged.
Life could resume its course, as it has always been intended to.
In her sanity-lacking mind, she’ll come to structure her cowardice like a favor, and suppress the knowledge that her fleeing is done out of self-preservation. Just like all those times before.
Nothing's changed.
As she runs, worn soles slapping over concrete, she can hear the ominous breath of a snowball hurling down her path. It ghosts her heels, its chilled breath biting her ankles.
Desperate to be blurred between bodies and chatter, she swings open a door beneath a sign that reads Joe’s Cup, and with unnatural urgency and dramatic flare tumbles in.
Customers are baited out of their casual exchanges by her disheveled sight, their toothy grins thinning, and eyes roundly boring at her, through her, as if anticipating the pursuer to barge in after.
When he doesn't, their brows furrow.
They exchange quizzical glances amongst themselves, slurring comments beneath held breaths.
Rin's ears and neck burn flushed and a bead of sweat swells on her temple.
She shoves a path through a healthy herd of customers lined before the cashier desk.
A symphony of distasteful complaints follows suit.
Black-aproned baristas turn from their practiced choreographies, canisters in hands, their eyes chasing Rin's form as she clumsily parts a way to the guest restroom.
The weight of their collective gaze cloaks her figure like some thick winter coat. She sinks further between the bodies, cranes her posture lower to the ground, wanting to be swallowed into oblivion.
With blatant disregard towards the huddle of customers patiently awaiting their turn, Rin slips past the half-open door and locks it behind her.
They bang on the door, their patience fizzled out, and holler an assortment of vile curses, each one punctuated by a rumbling fist colliding against the metal of the door.
Rin’s heart rams in her chest to a similar alarming rhythm.
She slides her back against the rumbling door, collapses on the ground like a shattered vase. Toys with the pieces in her hold as her mind races loudly. All futile attempts to piece them back together.
Broken things cannot be restored. They must evolve if they are to survive. Adapt to their incapacities.
She hasn't yet learned to stand without her crutches.
Rin folds the work excuse in her hands, shoves it in her back pocket after sending an image of it to her superior. She'd been accepted as a walk-in at an urgent care clinic, and managed to milk her migraine for its benefit.
She walks home, thinking the mindless toggling of her feet, scuffing one in front of the other, over and over, will do her racing mind a measure of good. Over bumpy cobble on the sidewalks, over the smooth cement of pavements, over the zebra pattern of pedestrian crossings. It gives her something to focus on, something to slow her mind. The shuffle of her shoes over gravel fills the quiet spaces, doesn't allow for intrusive thoughts, intrusive fears.
The sound shifts to something expansive, reverberant, as she draws to a halt over a yellow strip of tactile tiles just before a pedestrian crossing.
At an uneasy standstill, she squints at the red human silhouette illuminated across the street. Thinks that frowning at it will make it succumb, flicker green.
It doesn't.
The spaces she'd been trying to occupy in her mind empty, replaced with a gnawing vacancy that ushers forth all those thoughts she'd been avoiding.
The fresh and recent image of him unblurs amidst the eye of her mind. Comes into center focus.
She shakes her head, in denial. It can't be.
Shakes it also in disbelief. How can it be?
It all seems like some big, unfair mistake. It's not that she'd been fantasizing of her soulmate meet-cute everyday of her life. She didn't really have expectations surrounding that event, that revelation.
It wasn't expectation what she had, no. Rather, she held an air of justification, as if life owed her basic decency of fairness. It was a naive belief, she now realizes. Thinks of all the times life had shown its unfairness to her parents, friends, peers, strangers on news reports. Of course, all those times seemed something distant, removed from her; she'd been wrapped in the youthful sense of invincibility.
The human animation flickers green. She doesn't notice until a body blurs past her, leaping onto the zebra pattern, cardboard coffee tray clutched in their grasp.
Momentum stalled by the weight of a dense, racing mind, Rin's slow to follow suit. The cement of the pavement feels as though it has liquified around her shoes, slowly consumes her like that of quick-sand.
She doesn't want to go home and be reminded of all the tasks that have piled up over the course of days. She doesn't have the mental agility to juggle it all today. Only wants to sit and stare off into space, allow herself to process and absorb, to contemplate what should follow. What happens next?
Instead of following through to the next crossing a few buildings down, she sharply turns right into an alley. A Chinese restaurant at its corner; the aroma of greasy fried rice and tangy chicken infiltrates her nostrils. Recalls forth memories as vividly as a single song encapsulates a transformative moment in life. Glimpsing at the corner table next to the glass panes, she pictures herself, minus a few years, chuckling in the company of her parents, rolling her eyes at something Jennie had said. Her dad had been on his second plate of Kung Pao Chicken. Her mother had held her hands clasped before her, concealing the tender smile that would stretch her cheeks as she took in her family.
Like some abrupt craving, she longs for the safe feeling of then. Longs for her mother's embrace, for her reassuring words that would always promise things would turn out alright, even when the odds made it questionable.
Rin's fist taps a rhythm against a navy blue door.
She glides back a stride over the creaking porch, peers out of the white frame of the balcony, towards the driveway. It's empty.
An irregularly-shaped stain on the concrete makes itself known with its bold contrast against the pasty white cement; a whisper of the car that's usually parked there.
The garage door is shut.
When the navy door swings open before her, she startles a little, inhales sharply, as if she'd not been expecting a response. It hadn't occurred to her that someone could have stayed behind; that the missing car on the driveway indicated absence, perhaps only of one party, not the entire family.
"Hey," she greets softly, hands dug into the pockets of her coat because she otherwise doesn't know what to do with them. The way she doesn't know what to do with herself.
Try as she might to hold herself together, Rin's about to collapse into a disheveled mound of shards on her mother's doorstep. She'd managed to piece a few together while at the coffeeshop, and shoved the rest of the unsorted pieces into the pockets of her coat. Now, it's starting to seem like even those pieces she'd adhered are laxing.
The women in the door-frame beams, lines crinkling at the corners of almond-shaped eyes.
She eagerly pats her hands dry on the kitchen rag draped over her shoulder. Once satisfied, in a swift motion, she tugs Rin into a firm embrace.
A flowery essence saturates Rin's nose as she nuzzles into her mother's hold. The one she'd been hoping for; the one that can cure all sorts of maladies, scare off all sorts of night demons. "Mother." It's a word emanating relief in its mere utterance.
Though Rin's tense shoulders ease, fists unfurl to clasp around her mother's rounding back, and eyes momentarily flutter, she quickly resumes the flighty and scouting dance of her gaze over her mother's shoulder.
Her mother exclaims into her ear in a half-cackle, half-sigh "My darling daughter."
Rin continues scouting for signs of company within the house, even as her mother withdraws with a disarming smile. Scouts for the characteristic detached query of her father from the living room "Who's there, Donna?"
It never comes.
"Come in, come in, child! You'll freeze." Her clasp is warm on Rin's chilled hand.
"We've missed you...missed you horribly, child. Oh, that father of yours. He's so terribly blunt and unsensing with his words. Just between us two-" she draws near in hushed whispers "-he's expressed his regret for how things ended last time. He'd never come out and say it, but I can tell. Can read him well."
Thirty years of marriage will do that, Rin expects.
Though she doesn't question her mother's literacy and fluency regarding matters of her father, she takes her sentiment dubiously. Pierces the lacy white veil of a benevolent lie. Understands her mother's kind-hearted motive in uniting her family once again.
Rin might not be as fluent regarding her father, but she knows him well enough to be a prideful, righteous man. Knows him enough to be certain he'd never apologize in vain, in platitudes. He'd only ever apologize if sufficiently convicted, and convinced of his error; those occasions have been few and sparse.
Recalling forth the argument of that night, it is pretty clear to Rin that he'd felt justified in his perspective. It was adamant, the way he'd shoved his way of life down her throat like some pill. His way - the only way.
Rin’s keen for any suggestion of her father’s presence. Not in the way two old friends scower a crowd for the familiar sight of one another. Not in the long-missed way. Rather, with guilt.
She doesn't feel ready to admit that she'd been wrong, even though she's sane enough to recognize that she had been.
Admitting it would require her to express a plan for correction - which she doesn't yet have. She'd like to remain lost and searching for a little longer. Doesn't want to have it all figured out yet, the answers lined up and pristine.
Rin’s head throbs. The louder her sister squeals, the tighter the pressure within her skull grows.
She pinches the bridge of her nose and averts her gaze from the luminescence of the open-plane kitchen as she slumps into one of the tall stools lining the island.
A sudden wince wrinkles her brow; the band about her head tightening.
Every time she shuts her eyes, she relives the earlier events; the mental imagery reeling within the eye of her mind like a scratched CD that keeps stuttering under its needle.
She'd open them abruptly only to find her sister leaning onto the counter from across. Inquisitive and expectant eyes boring into her.
In her vague – vague – "debrief" (more eye-rolling than retelling), she omits the puke-on-shoes part of the, for obvious reasons. Her skin still crawls with shame at the sheer recollection of it.
Jennie’s unsatisfied with Rin’s reporting abilities. Says that if she worked as a news reporter or journalist, she’d be the smallest-spoken one. "The dullest one," she corrects. She’d be fired for lack of views.
"That would be great!" Rin feigns excitement. "Considering I hate being the center of attention."
Jennie's voracious curiosity ignores her elder sister's remark. “I need details. It’s hard to picture the exact moment when you don’t narrow down all the immeasurable possibilities by being more specific, Rinny.”
Jennie crosses her arms over her chest, leans over the counter, inquisitive eyes prying the desired answers from her sister’s uncooperative lips. “Did he sweep you off your feet after you tripped? And then WHAM-” she slams both her palms on the counter for added emotive effect “-you fell madly in love?”
Rin’s face sours the more she shakes her head. "Not exactly..."
Jennie proceeds undisturbed, goes into a reverie of her very own formation, gaze lifting from Rin’s to disperse out the windows.
The sugar child, Jennie, since birth had been pampered to the point of coddling. Everything she'd ever been taught and told, even reprimands and remarks meant to correct behavior, had all been sugar-coated - an attempt on the behalf of parents desperate to avoid making the same mistakes they'd made with their first-born.
As the fragile princess of the family, it is only natural succession for Jennie to inherit the belief system of the Bronson parents.
Rin, on the other hand, cultivated a seed of distrust towards the notion of soulmates, of fate, from an early age. While her classmates would rave about them endlessly, playing games meant to predict each others', Rin buried her nose in the musty spine of a book each week.
Not a determinist by nature, Rin never has been a follower - or a mere tolerant of the suggestion that two souls are betrothed to fulfill and complete one another. The notion suggests that the two aren’t complete on their own to begin with. Rin abhors the thought of herself as fated to depend on a single other person for the rest of her life; or to consider the possibility that if she never finds that other half, she’s doomed to experience life half-best. Hates to think the universe has buried answers to her identity within some arbitrary other being of which she’s not even sure she’ll tolerate or feel attraction towards.
To Rin, fate is turbulent and fluid, like water which takes the shape of its container, it bends to one's individual will. She holds that life is what one makes of it, and by deduction, so is love. It is a choice, not some compelling force.
Ignoring Jennie’s pleas for further details, Rin rambles her stream of consciousness beneath her breath: “I just don’t get it. I can’t understand why. Why now? If he’s been my… my–”
Whereas Rin stammers, mouth parched, for the appropriate words, her sister confidently voices “Your soulmate!”
She’s beaming twice as bright, to make up for Rin’s disappointingly low mood regarding the matter.
In Jennie’s world, this is likely the most exciting turn of events since scented highlighters, calligraphy pens and transparent desk organizers.
Face soured with an impending cringe, Rin reluctantly confirms her sister’s statement: “Yeah…that.” She doesn’t even know the weight of the word, its meaning beyond the label. The cringe never quite reaches its climax; she remains in a state of tense preparation for it. Waiting for the thunder to rumble, after having spotted lightning.
“If he’s been that all along, how come I've only just found out now? Why didn’t I start seeing a halo back in high school? Can these things be missed? I mean...can the fates make mistakes?”
By the kitchen sink, back turned towards Rin and Jennie, Donna shuts the faucet. She pats the excess moisture onto the rag draped over her shoulder. Clearing her throat, she turns to face them, leans her hips against the counter such that it digs into her flesh.
"My darling, no one truly knows. The way no one ever truly holds the answers to life." She looks deeply into Rin's worried gaze, holds its weight. "Some believe you are only ever made aware of a soulmate once both parties are ready."
"Ready?"
"Hm," Donna nods. "To this day, Scientists disagree on the formal definition of 'ready.' Studies have been inconclusive - it means something different to everyone. It's specific to the individual."
Donna rakes her steady gaze over Rin, who visibly appears to be rejecting the pill being force-fed down her throat. There’s been a lot of that, lately. Growing pains.
Rin had been hoping her mother's words would soothe her, the slightest, if not straight into acceptance then, at least, into neutral contemplation. Instead, they're making her heart tremble a little erratically in her chest. The slightest flutter, as if instead of a beating muscular organ she houses a butterfly, flapping its wings clumsily against her ribcage.
They way it's going, she wouldn't be surprised to be told that it's skipping beats.
“Unless your life goal is to continue the research of said scientists and stipulate a worthy response, why should you bother asking such questions?”
Amidst the intense staring contest being held between Rin and their mother’s well-meaning gaze, Jennie quips in, “Does that mean that there’s a possibility I have met my soulmate already and just don’t know it yet?”
“I wonder who it could be.” She starts listing names, pinning them to her extended fingers as mental placeholders.
Rin diverts her fixed gaze away from her mother. The woman is relentless. There’s no way Rin could counter, not now, at least, not while her mind is clouded by so many other questions.
It hasn't sunk in. Honestly, Rin's dubious if it ever will and that's frightening.
Instead, Rin transfixes onto Jennie's comment. “Focus on your studies. I better get a copy of your final results or I am not taking you out for mannis next week like we planned.”
Jenny withdraws in on herself, masks an eye roll beneath her wispy bangs.
“I’ve never felt quite ready for a soulmate.” Rin’s distrust persists. What most would call the long-awaited day of their fates, Rin is convinced is an impractical scheme only meant to ridicule whatever drop of hope she could muster. Leave it to the trust issues she carried every day of her life, of whose origin she is constantly unaware of. “I don’t think I feel anymore ready now, and yet…” she waves at the air around her, gesturing to some higher presence amongst them. “I just...don’t get it.”
“Give it time,” mother reassures, aware she’s coming across as redundant as a broken record skipping tracks. She elaborates, so as to not have the sentiment lost on her eldest daughter: “Give him a chance. People do change, you know. Other times, there’s more to the story than what was originally revealed. Maybe hear his side of it. Maybe it’ll surprise you.”
“Maybe it won’t.”
A hopeless sigh seeps from her mother’s lips. She sees her eldest daughter has a long way to go and a lot to learn. She can’t help but to be reminded of her younger self. Of the many petty, unnecessary fights she crafted out of immaturity and stubbornness. And how much time it robbed her of.
Time is money, as most say. In mother’s book, though, time is memories. Memories which are priceless. One of a kind. Unique reminders to persist living. Promises that no matter how difficult it gets, how dark the night dims, there will be moments of light and comfort further down.
A sudden thought occurs to Jennie: “What if someone’s never ready?”
“Some people do go their entire lives without a soulmate." Donna frowns. "It’s not uncommon. Matter-of-fact, I was reading about one man’s testimony - an 80-year-old man who’d lived alone for most of his life. One day, walking out of his driveway to grab mail, he spots his neighbor. She had just returned from a visit to the family in Chicago. As soon as he caught sight of her–” she snaps her fingers before her two girls “-he starts hearing strings, violins, harps, of that kind. He’d initially blamed his hearing aids. Had thought they were broken. Then, she asked him ‘Do you hear that?’”
“That’s when he knew," Jennie rushes to conclude. Then exclaims "That's too sweet!" before even receiving confirmation from her mother that that was what happened. How it ended. Her uncontained eagerness in her clapping and thrashing makes her weight tilt unsteadily on the stool. "What happened next?"
With a deep inhale, mother concludes her recount, “Sadly, the old man passed away a week later, while in his sleep – painless, thankfully. Apparently, he’d had this long-going arrhythmia. That night, a clot traveled to his brain. Truly, a sad story.”
Rin lifts a hand, flushes it against the bony traction of her sternum, where there's an alarming racing.
What if she's like that man?
What if she only has a week left to live?
Could that be the punishment imposed by the gods for her neglect of this revelation?
Moved to tears, Jennie scowls in her mother’s direction. “You had to set it up so well only to rip my heart out! Couldn’t you have lied to us? Told us they’d lived happily ever after?”
Rin rolls her eyes. “More sugar-coating? What good would that do? I mean just look at you?”
Jennie slaps her shoulder. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Slicing the incrementing tension between the two, mother voices “Then, there’d be no lesson.”
“I’m all for telling the cold, hard truth, mom. Give it to me straight, no rocks,” Rin starts, “but even I’m at a loss with this one.”
“Is the lesson supposed to be that life’s brutally cruel?” Jennie dabs at her lash line with a napkin. Her mascara smearing the cloth.
“Well,” mother starts, “that could certainly be one. Though, I was specifically referring to gratitude. Appreciate what you have while it’s still yours. You never know how long you have. Never know how long its been, until the rug’s pulled from beneath you.”
Jennie inhales longly, sniffles. "When can we meet, Mr. Soulmate, anyways?"
Taking that as a queue to leave, Rin groans and slips out of her stool, drags her upper torso over the counter in dramatic gesture. As if the news is all too burdensome to carry; a weight strapped to her back when she's meant to be ascending a mountain.
She pretends to have not heard the question as she pries open the fridge and stares down at the half-empty containers lining the shelves.
“Jen, dear. Let’s give your sister some time. It’s much too early. I think she barely knows his last name as it is.”
“Growing up, I always assumed..." Rin tears into triangle of cheese spread - the dainty, individually-foil-wrapped, picnic kind. She concludes: "it was Dickhead. Who knows?" Shrugs and tears another bite. "I might be right.”
While Jennie giggles innocently behind her curled chestnut bangs, Mother glares disapprovingly. A scold is delivered without the need for words.
“It’s alright, ma. The hatred is mutual.”
"Was he that awful in high school?" Jennie hadn't shown much interest in Rin's daily teenage tribulations back then, much too preoccupied playing dollhouse with her neighborhood friends. As much as she's actively trying to recall a single detail about him, she's growing convinced Rin never mentioned him until now.
Rin shuts the fridge, turns and bores her eyes in a knowing way. A what-do-you-think? look. A why-else-would-I-be-so-opposed? look.
"We're all sort of awful in our youth. All so confused," Donna justifies.
Jennie objects, "I wasn’t!"
A mild frown starts deepening the aged-lines on her mother's countenance. She turns to dry the freshly washed dishes before Rin is able to witness it deepen further, darken as if casted over by shadow.
Palpating the sudden shift in mood brough on by her comment, Rin draws close and wraps her arms around her mother's torso, anchoring her chin over her mother's shoulder. It's the kind one can viscerally acknowledge but are reluctant to voice. The type that makes you want to ask "Did I do something wrong?"
Rin weighs the reality that ridiculing the entirety of the soulmates notion means ridiculing the love her mother had worked so diligently to protect and nurture in her marriage to her father. It belittles the daily efforts, the daily trust it takes to make a marriage survive so many decades.
"I'll try, mom," Rin mumbles, barely audible against the fabric of her mother's shirt. Loud enough only for her mother's ears.
She pats Rin's head with her moistened hand, dampening Rin's crown in the process, as if baptizing her with well wishes and dish foam.
Watching from her wobbly stool, Jennie tilts her head to a side like a puppy before hopping off to join in on the hug. “Give me some sugar, too.”
"You've had all the sugar, you brat." Yet she pulls her into the embrace with a knuckle rub over her bangs.
Jennie pokes her tongue out mockingly.
"No, really, could it be Ian?" Jennie starts. "After he kissed me, I felt lightheaded."
"Kissed?" Rin abruptly withdraws from the embrace. "First of, who? Second, what? When??"
A grin tugs lopsidedly at Jennie's rosy lips.
"Miss Jennie, you don't mean to tell me you've already shared your first kiss?" Rin gawks, feeling lightheaded herself. Mocks a fanciful accent in light of the reality TV they've watched together, mimicking the gossipmonger hosts that bring celebrities onto late night shows and probe at personal lives.
"Second, actually," Jennie corrects. "The first was Choi Joon. It was a little awkward and toothy but it was memorable. I walked straight home from school and crossed it off my bucket list."
Rin dances her incredulous gaze between her oddly calm mother and her sister's mischievous grin.
"Does dad know, too?"
They don’t say anything. They don't need to. Of course he doesn't. Jennie would not see the light of day if it were otherwise. She'd be locked in her bedroom until her eventual wedding - which wouldn't come to happen in her socially-deprived state.
Rin's expression falls flat and lifeless, completely surrendered to her unfortunate fate. "I can’t believe my little sister got her first kiss before I did. That’s pitiful."
"What's more?" She asks no one in particular, blankly lifts her gaze. Oh right! My alleged soulmate is my childhood rival and life-long enemy! I’m pitiful!" Slumping back down into her stool, she slams her forehead over her folded arms. A gavel sealing a fate.
[long one (for me). honestly, i got stuck about 3/4ths of the way and could not get myself to write anything of significance from that point onward. so if the ending feels a bit rushed, it's cuz of that he he
it's why i don't like long chapters. makes it so hard to keep track of everything, to not ramble aimlessly :/
I don't LOVE this chappie cuz it's so filler-y and I feel it overexplains the lore behind the soulmates but it's this working draft for now or nothing at all]
Beautiful - Taehyung
Warnings: mild dirty talk, mild body worshiping, oral, fingering
Request: “Hello :) 152 + 158 with Taehyung? Thank you so much 💕”
152. “Are you wearing my shirt?” 158. “I’ll make sure you can’t walk tomorrow.”
Word Count: 951
Genre: Smut
•·.··.·• •·.··.·•
He was late - again.
Taehyung slowly opened the front door to your house, making sure he was as quiet as possible in hopes of not waking you up, but little did he know you were wide awake and waiting for him. Quietly closing the door, he slipped off his shoes and set down his bag, sighing in relief at his success at entering your home undetected.
“Hey,” You said as you peered around the corner of the hallway, your eyes immediately gluing to Taehyung’s stiff figure.
“U-Uh… um, Y/N. I-I didn’t know you were…” He stuttered, but you brusquely finished his sentence.
“Awake?” You raised your eyebrows, almost as if to tease his flustered state. “Tae, you said you were gonna come home at 9:00. It’s almost midnight!”
“I’m sorry, jagiya. The boys practically forced me to stay longer.”
“That’s not an excuse,” You frowned as you crossed your arms in front of your chest, shifting your gaze down to the floor. You were awaiting a response, really an apology, from your boyfriend, but when you looked back up at him, you found him staring at you - or to be more specific, your shirt.
“Are you wearing my shirt?” He asked, a sudden shift of tone in his voice.
“Yeah…” You said, embarrassed that he had finally caught you in the act. He knew how you would steal and wear his shirts if you missed him, but he never actually saw you wearing one. You’d usually take it off before he returned, as the last thing you wanted was for him to see you wearing his clothes.
You were closely observing his blank stare focused on your shirt - or rather his - when he suddenly darted his eyes up to meet his gaze with yours. You could feel the wetness between your legs as his stare practically burrowed into your facial features, and then moved on to scan every other inch of your body.
Taehyung bit his lip as he looked at the way you rubbed your thighs together, knowing something was stirring up down there. After slipping off his coat and throwing it over the armrest of the couch beside him, he slowly walked over to you, backing you up into the corner of the room, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt your back press against the wall behind you, Taehyung chuckling at your bewildered reaction. You didn’t know why he was acting like this, but you definitely weren’t going to lie to yourself - you liked it.
“You know, you should wear my shirts more often,” He whispered as he lowered himself down to your shoulder, pushing off the sleeve and lightly placing a kiss on your skin. You shivered at his touch, but he didn’t take one second to stop sucking and kissing at your sensitive skin, until he dropped to his knees and parted your thighs, gently rubbing the inside of them with his warm palms. “Something tells me you need some help down here.”
“Tae…” You moaned as his fingers hooked around your now soaked panties, pulling them down in one swift movement, exposing your drenched heat. Your eyes locked and never separated, until Taehyung decided to lean forward and flick his tongue against your throbbing clit, causing you to throw your head back at the sudden contact.
“You’re so beautiful. God, your body is so fucking beautiful. You’re a fucking goddess,” He breathed against your core before bringing two of his fingers to tease at your entrance. You bit down on your lip in anticipation of the mess he was about to make of you, but he didn’t move. “Do you want this? Why don’t you beg for it, hm?”
“P-Please… Taehyung, I need- ah!” You interrupted yourself and let out a guttural moan at the sudden and rough entering of his fingers, curling them to purposefully hit a spot that practically made you scream out in pleasure.
“You’re always so wet for me, sweetheart.” He placed a soft kiss on your navel as he plunged his fingers deep into your core. His free hand roamed your shaking figure, his touch practically intoxicating you.
Taehyung flicked his tongue against your clit again, and due to your pleasant reaction, he took your moans as his cue to replace his fingers with his mouth, your lips spread apart and his tongue plunging deep into your heat.
You gasped and grabbed his hair, entangling your fingers in his locks as you pressed him closer to your hips. You could feel a tight coil beginning to form in the pit of your stomach, and as Taehyung added his fingers again, he could feel you tighten around him. He let out a low moan, the vibrations of his voice reverberating against your skin, and the feeling it sent throughout your body pushed you to your edge.
Taehyung eagerly licked up your juices, and even though you had just come, you could feel yourself tightening under his tongue once again. He stood up and pressed his lips against yours, allowing you to taste yourself. Your tongues were at a battle for dominance, but it was clear that Taehyung wouldn’t let you win, and you simply gave in to him. He pulled away, but stayed close enough to you that you could feel his blazing hot breath tickling your skin as he spoke.
“Go to the bedroom and wait for me. I’ll make sure you can’t walk tomorrow…”
•·.··.·• •·.··.·•
Agghh so short :/ I’m sorry but I didn’t really think anything further was necessary to write
Fave Fics (Recs)
My happy place of BTS fics by other writers.
Listed in no particular order.
Adult / Mature Content. 🔞
KSJ:
1. Let it Sparkle by lamourche - The most beautifully whimsical, magical story. Gave me wonderful Joan Aiken vibes. A perfectly dreamy escape.
2. The Platonic Collection by joheunsaram - Never thought I'd enjoy dominance and submission, but this was done so well, I fell right in love.
3. On The Ropes by raplinesmoon - Hauntingly, achingly raw. Melancholy at its finest.
4. Blue Hour by raplinesmoon - A follow-up to On The Ropes. Love finds a way. Hope finds a way. The Romantic in me is sobbing.
5. All I Don’t Want for Christmas Is You! by minisugakoobies - Hot, angry sex with KSJ + Maknae Line running amok + blissfully domestic Sope = a rollicking fun holiday read.
6. the devil wears armani by floralseokjin - This made me pray for Hell. Who needs angels when the devil is KSJ in a suit?
7. Girls Want Love and Aguardiente y Limon by raplinesmoon - A level of wantonness that’ll have you on your knees, begging for more. Please, Daddy. More.
8. once bitten, twice shy by fantasybangtan - Side-splittingly funny, soul-stirringly fluffy, with a smidgen of angst, and oodles of Yuletide cheer.
9. Piece by Piece by underthejoon - Like bite-sized pieces of candy: some sticky sweet like caramel, others darkly bitter like pure cacao, all of which you'll devour in one sitting before savouring the heady aftertaste.
~~~
KNJ:
1. lacuna by eoieopda - A wistful whirl of recollections, unfulfilled possibilities, and the reunifying of two souls who should never have been apart.
~~~
MYG:
1. Want a Taste? by suga-kookiemonster - Tongue Technology that's dangerous and delicious. Will also give you massive Auntie Anne's cravings.
2. I Wanna Hold Your Hand by minisugakoobies - As warming and sweet as a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows on a cold day.
~~~
KTH:
1. Let it Snow by suga-kookiemonster - The first BTS fic I ever read. Still can't believe this isn't a published book.
~~~
JJK:
1. Ego Series by suga-kookiemonster - A truly delectable slow burn. Start this series in the morning (unless you want to stay up all night reading), because it's unputdownable.
~~~
PJM:
1. Lovely Demons by kpopfanfictrash - A fantasy underworld so breathtakingly crafted, you'd be tempted to linger forever.
~~~
JHS:
1. On Bended Knee by minisugakoobies - Short and sweet and stuffed to the brim with witty humour, sexiness, and charm.
2. Piece by Piece by underthejoon - Like bite-sized pieces of candy: some sticky sweet like caramel, others darkly bitter like pure cacao, all of which you'll devour in one sitting before savouring the heady aftertaste.
~~~
OT7:
1. BTS Masterlist by kpopfanfictrash - It's all magic. Take your pick, and get lost in hours of pure pleasure.
2. Bound Series by kpopfanfictrash and underthejoon - 7 gorgeous stories about love, fate, and destiny.
~~~
Un-fucking-real.
he didn’t come to play
Drunk in Love - Taehyung (M)
Request: drabble list :51,68,88 with any member please. also i love you’re writing! tysm!!!
Warnings: semi-public sex, both reader and Tae are a little drunk which may be triggering for some, rough sex, cum play, unprotected sex (wrap that meat up), big dick Tae, size kink, marking, slight praise kink, dom!Taehyung, scratching, pussy spanking, dirty talk, squirting, creampie
Word Count: 2K
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Lights and loud music blared through the house, dozens of drunken bodies dancing close together, red solo cups filled with alcohol in their hands, raised high in the air. The bass of the music reverberated against the thick walls, shaking the floors as people grounded against each other, throwing personal space out of the window for the night.
Taehyung stood in the kitchen, taking a swig of his drink when his friend Jimin came drunkenly swaying into the room, leaning up against the counter beside Taehyung. His breath reeked of alcohol, but anyone could figure out he was god awful drunk just by looking at him.
“Tae-“ Jimin said, hiccuping before continuing to speak. “Hyung. Whatsuup?”
“Dude, you’re wasted,” Taehyung laughed, patting Jimin’s back, pushing a burp out of his mouth.
“No, I’m fine! I’m absolutely fine, dude!” Jimin slurred one second, and the next he was clutching his stomach and leaning back. “Guuhh, I’m gonna be sick.”
“I told you 13 shots of straight vodka wasn’t a good idea.”
“Fuck you and your logic.”
Taehyung rolled his eyes and took a sip of his drink, then spoke, eyeing down Jimin who had slid down to the floor, hiding his face in his hands.
“Where’s Y/N? I haven’t seen her yet,” Taehyung asked. Jimin giggled and swirled his drink around in his cup, raising his eyebrows as he looked up at his sober friend.
“Probably touching herself in the bathroom,” Jimin smirked.
“Dude, what?”
“You lookreallygoodtonight,” Jimin slurred, bunching his last words together.
“What?”
“She has the hots for you, man.”
Taehyung rolled his eyes and poured the remains of his drink into the sink, throwing the cup away then patting Jimin on the back.
“You’re going home. I’ll call an Uber for you,” Taehyung sighed before leaving the kitchen, setting out to find a quiet place to call. He slipped through the drunken bodies filling the house, whispering small apologies as he pushed a few people away. He reached the deck, about to pull out his phone when he spotted you on the couch, talking with another girl. He quickly made his way over to you, standing awkwardly as he waited for you to finish your conversation.
“Alright, I’ll see you later,” You said, waving goodbye to your friend. Your eyes followed her as she stood up and left, but they quickly latched onto Taehyung, who stood before you, a small smile on his face. “Tae!”
Without warning, you shot up and threw your arms around him, Taehyung laughing and grabbing your hips in response. You pulled back, eyes landing on his lips momentarily.
“I’ve been looking for you since this stupid party started,” You said with a smile.
“Me too,” Taehyung replied, running his hands up your body, sending a shiver through your spine.
“What’s been going on? I haven’t seen you in weeks.”
“My classes have been overloading me with work. It’s like my professors don’t want me to see you.”
You laughed and hit his shoulder, eliciting a fake whine from him as he gripped his shoulder.
“Did you get stronger? Jesus,” Taehyung joked.
“You’re so lame,” You groaned, flicking his forehead. He winced for real and glared at you.
“Now that was just uncalled for.”
“What are you gonna do about it?” You teased, only to cut yourself off with a gasp as he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer, faces merely inches away from each other.
Your face immediately heated up, and you tried to move back, but he kept his grip strong, trapping you. His eyes scanned your flustered features, taking his lip between his teeth before capturing your mouth in his. Your chest fluttered with excitement at his sudden action, having no issue kissing him back, your hands sliding up into his hair as you tilted your head, allowing him to deepen the kiss.
You both pulled away from each other to catch a moment to breath and he looked at you, practically undressing you with his eyes. You rested your arms on his shoulders, lips brushing against his. As of that moment, it was like you were the only two people in the room.
“Wanna go somewhere more private?” Taehyung smirked, and you pecked his lips, smiling back.
“Gladly.”
Taehyung excitedly grabbed your hand and led you through the drunk party goers to lead you upstairs where it was quieter. He pushed you into a bathroom and flipped the light switch, quickly following behind you to lock the door. His lips attached to your neck, earning a small laugh from you as he sucked on your skin, hands gripping at your waist.
“You have no idea-” Taehyung said, pressing a kiss to your lips before continuing. “How long I’ve been waiting for this.”
Taehyung’s fingers hooked under your shirt, pulling it over your head and throwing it off to the side. He captured his mouth with yours again, his need clearly showing. You stepped back and unzipped your skirt, letting it fall to the ground. Taehyung smiled and grabbed your waist, lifting you up onto the sink counter. He rid himself of his own clothes, leaving himself in just his underwear, same as you. You eagerly unclipped your bra, tossing it aside along with your panties.
Taehyung stepped over to you, fingers swiping over your heat. You moaned, shivering at his touch that you had so desperately longed for. He leaned over, lips pressing to your jawline.
“You sure you can fit all of me? It might hurt,” Taehyung warned, his fingers coated in your arousal. His thumb pressed against your throbbing clit, pushing a gasp out of you.
“I don’t care. I need you now,” You moaned, your hands grabbing at his hair. His lips curled into a smile as he stepped back to remove the last piece of clothing separating him from you. Your eyes widened as they landed upon his cock, strained red and begging to be touched. You could feel a jolt run straight to your core and you gulped nervously. “Fuck your cock is so big, I don’t think it’ll fit.”
“Is that your way of saying you changed your mind?” Taehyung teased, reaching down to grab his clothes when you leaned forward to grab his hand and pull him in front of you.
“No!”
Taehyung looked down at where your hands met and he laughed, leaning down to kiss you as he guided your hand to his cock. Your fingers could barely wrap all the way around him, and you cursed under your breath, soaking at the thought of him inside you.
“You’re soaking wet, do I really get you that excited?” Taehyung laughed, grabbing his cock to press it against your folds. You whined, wanting him to just fuck you already, but knowing him, he’d be the type of person to tease you until you were practically crying and begging for him.
“Yes,” You whispered, lifting your hips to try and stimulate yourself, but Taehyung grabbed your waist and pinned you down, eyes darkening in seconds.
“Tell me what you want.”
“Tae…”
“Tell me-“ Taehyung suddenly spanked your pussy, a cry falling out from your mouth at the sting. “Or I’ll leave you here to take care of yourself.”
“Fuck! Taehyung, I want you to fuck me! Fuck me until I’m shaking and crying and screaming your name. Just- fuck!”
Taehyung cut you off by thrusting into you, filling you up nearly halfway. You moaned loudly and gripped at the counter, back arching. He let out a low groan, relishing in the feeling of your walls gripping him so perfectly.
“You can take it, just a little more… There we go, there’s my good girl,” Taehyung whispered, sinking into you inch by inch. You swore you could feel him in your gut. He leaned over you, biting your collarbones, marking them to show that you were his, and only his. You wrapped your legs around his waist as your nails dragged down his back, eliciting a hiss from him. He leaned back, looking at his cock buried deep in your pussy, cursing at the sight. “Fuck, you’re taking me so well, baby.”
You moaned rather loudly, loud enough that you knew other people would be able to hear it even over the music. Taehyung kissed you to distract you from the pain as he slowly pulled back, then snapped his hips forward, forming a steady rhythm.
His hips grinded against yours, his cock stretching you out deliciously. You pressed your nails into the skin of his back as he picked up speed, pushing in and out of you at a steady pace. Your body jolted with every one of his thrusts, melting you into a moaning mess as he rocked into you.
“Fuck, you feel so good around my cock, baby,” Taehyung moaned, his nails digging into your hips. You were unable to form any coherent sentences, the only thing escaping your mouth being broken curses and groans of his name. Taehyung was now pounding into you at a relentless pace, his hand placed over your abdomen as he stared you down with hungry eyes. “You feel that, baby? You feel me stretching out this tight little pussy?”
“Fuck, Tae!” You screamed, the feeling of him inside you, filling you up, just bringing you closer to the edge. You slipped your hand between your legs, rubbing small circles into your clit as Taehyung kept ramming into you, the only sounds filling the room being the sound of your skin slapping together and the echoes of the music downstairs. You felt yourself clench around him, and by the way he was slowing down, you could tell he was close too.
Taehyung moved your hand away and replaced it with his own, his thumb rubbing agonizing circles into your clit that had you screaming out his name.
“Be a good girl and cum. Cum, baby,” Taehyung growled as he hit your g-spot, ultimately bringing you over the edge as you shut your eyes, loudly moaning Taehyung’s name, your aching pussy clenching around him. He groaned your name into your shoulder, lightly biting your skin as he thrusted a few more times, then found his own release inside you, his cum painting your walls, filling you up perfectly.
The sound of your heavy breathing filled the room, overtaking the quieting music downstairs. Taehyung lazily kissed you, hands cupping your face as he pulled out of you, his cum leaking onto the tile floor below. He pulled back, smiling at you.
“You know you just squirted, right?” Taehyung asked, and you widened your eyes in shock, your face suddenly heating up at his words.
“S-Sorry,” You stuttered. Taehyung shook his head and pecked your lips before grabbing a tissue to clean you up, making sure to be careful as he wiped over your aching core.
“Don’t be sorry. It was hot.”
Taehyung cleaned the floor and threw the tissue away, then turned to you, his arms sneaking around you as he nibbled at your ear.
“So, are you busy tomorrow?”
“I’m free all day,” You smiled, tilting your head to lock your lips with his. He smiled against you, then pulled back, his face filled with innocence as if he hadn’t just totally wrecked you a few minutes ago.
“Is 12:00 okay?” Taehyung stepped back, handing you your clothes before dressing himself up again. As the two of you left the bathroom, hands locked together, you looked back at him with a smile, knowing that you hadn’t made a mistake tonight, and that this was probably one of the best drunken decisions you’ve ever made.
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Masterlist • YouTube • Instagram
3... 2... 1... Recording! (M)
Request: #31 & #45 joonie or tae please!
Pairing: Taehyung x fem!reader
Genre: Smut, Established Relationship
Warnings: oppa kink, sub!reader, dom!Taehyung, recording sex (is there a term for this???), unprotected sex (do I even need to say wrap it up anymore), cum play, creampie, fingering, Taehyung being a dumbass at the end
Word Count: 1.7K
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“Hey, what if we tried recording ourselves having sex?”
You immediately choked on your ramen at Taehyung’s words, coughing loudly as you reached for your water, taking a few sips before staring at your boyfriend, absolutely shocked. Of all the things he’s requested to do in the bedroom - bondage, breath play, oppa kinks - you never expected this to be next.
“Where the hell did that come from?” You asked, setting your chopsticks down to rustle your fingers through your hair.
“I was just thinking…” Taehyung began, scooting closer to you in his chair. “I’m gonna be going on tour soon. I want something to remember you by when I’m-“
“Horny?” You finished his sentence, and he shrugged in defeat. “You make it sound like I’m gonna die.”
“If you die, I’m going with you,” Taehyung joked, poking your cheek.
“Seriously, though. You really want to try that?”
Taehyung stared at you for a moment, and the way his eyes stuck to you, you could tell he was having a whole debate in his head, as he always did over the smallest things.
“Only if you want to,” He answered, smiling sweetly. You rolled your eyes and stood up, Taehyung’s following you as you grabbed his hand and led him down the hall to the bedroom. You looked back at him, sending him a deathly glare.
“By the way, if you show this to the others, I’m breaking up with you,” You warned, earning a chuckle from Taehyung.
“Duly noted.”
As soon as your hand twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open, Taehyung walked forward and tugged you to him, kicking the door shut with his foot. He immediately latched his lips onto your neck, a low groan reverberating against your skin.
You gasped and laughed, tapping his shoulder to make him ease up, yet he ignored you and slipped his arms further around your waist, biting softly on your pulse point. Taehyung’s hands slid down to your ass, squeezing it through your jeans.
In response, you hopped up and Taehyung dug his arms underneath you as you wrapped your legs around him. Taehyung carried you over to the bed and gently dropped you down, connecting your lips not a second later. You smiled into the kiss and ran your fingers through his newly dyed hair - a bright shade of red. The night he FaceTimed you to show you, you nearly screamed out of excitement. He knew it was the one color you couldn’t wait to see on him.
Taehyung’s hands roamed over your clothed body, fingers trailing against your exposed skin, goosebumps following his touch.
“You sure you’re okay with me filming?” Taehyung asked, scrunching your shirt up to expose your stomach as he pressed a kiss to your skin, eyes lidded in desire.
“Absolutely,” You said, sitting up to tug your shirt off and throw it aside, the fabric landing on the living chair in the corner of the room. Taehyung smiled and pressed his lips to yours as his hands worked on unclipping your bra, tossing it aside to join your shirt.
Taehyung patted your thigh, and you nodded, lifting your hips up so he could take off your jeans. He pulled them down swiftly, leaving you in just your underwear. Taehyung stood up and set his phone on the bedside table before ridding himself of his clothes. He then grabbed his phone again and held it up to you, pressing the record button.
You smirked and slipped a hand down between your thighs, rubbing over your clothed slit, throwing your head back from the wetness that seeped through. Taehyung groaned and climbed over you, his phone still in hand.
“This is the way oppa likes you best, baby girl,” Taehyung whispered, nearly earning a whimper from you. God, did he know your weak points.
Taehyung pointed his phone down to your heat and slipped a free hand underneath your panties, cupping your mound just to feel the arousal pooling between. He smirked and swiped his fingers up and down your slit, a small whimper escaping from you.
“My Princess is so wet for me,” Taehyung praised, suddenly pinching your bud. You yelped and jolted from the sudden feeling, squirming underneath him. “Oh, sensitive, are you?”
“Be quiet- fuck!” You snapped back only to cut yourself off with a gasp as Taehyung plunged his fingers into you, curling them to hit that sweet spot that always managed to have you crying out Taehyung’s name. You bit down on your lip and turned your head to the side, cheek pressing against the bedsheets as Taehyung pulled his fingers out and twisted them back in again until his knuckles met your lips.
“My baby girl is dripping. I can’t wait to fuck this tight little pussy,” Taehyung growled, positioning himself between your legs. You bent your legs, pressing the soles of your feet on the bed to give Taehyung better access to your core. He gripped his cock with his free hand and swiped the tip over your slit, relishing in the feeling of the warmth radiating off of you.
Suddenly a wave of self-consciousness washed over you and you covered your face with your hands, Taehyung laughing at your reaction.
“Why so shy?” Taehyung spread your lips with his thumb, lowering the camera to show your soaked cunt. He pushed his hips forward slightly, teasing your entrance. You whimpered, face flushing with embarrassment.
“Taehyung…” You whispered, wanting to feel some sort of release from all of the tension building up in your body. Taehyung hummed and pulled back, hand squeezing your breast as he rubbed his thumb over your nipple.
“That’s not my name, Y/N.”
God, this could not get any more embarrassing and arousing at the same time. Something must be wrong with you - though if something were wrong, you weren’t sure if you wanted to fix it.
“Oppa, please- ah!” You moaned out as Taehyung slid into you, burying his cock deep inside you until his hips met yours. Taehyung groaned and gasped, focusing his phone on where you were joined.
“My princess is taking me in so well,” Taehyung grunted, throwing his head back as he felt your walls gripping him. You bit your bottom lip to prevent any sound from coming out but ultimately failed when Taehyung snapped his hips into you. “Fuck.”
Taehyung moaned loudly, his deep voice filling the room as he pulled back and slid into you, stretching you out perfectly. Your back arched from the pleasure, allowing Taehyung to slide deeper into you. He set a steady pace, thrusting in and out of you, his phone recording the entire thing as he gripped your waist, nails digging into your skin.
“God, you’re so tight,” Taehyung moaned, rolling his hips against yours, leaving you a moaning mess underneath him. Your mewls only motivated him to speed up, now thrusting into you at an incredible pace, sending your body jolting up with each movement. Taehyung ran his hand over your abdomen, pressing down on where you could feel him inside you. “You look good getting fucked… Now smile for the camera.”
You covered your face with your arm, wincing as Taehyung rammed into you, the only sound filling the room being your skin slapping together and both your and Taehyung’s loud moans. It was a new feeling, knowing he was recording you - sure, it wasn’t the wildest thing you’ve done in the bedroom, but god, was it one of the hottest.
Taehyung continued pushing into you, hitting your g-spot with every thrust until you will crying out underneath him, hands gripping at the bedsheets. He smirked and slid his hand down to your clit, rubbing fast circles into it with his thumb, still thrusting into you at a quick pace.
You moaned, thighs clenching along with your walls as you felt a coil beginning to form in your lower stomach. Taehyung must have noticed the way you were clenching around him, as he sped up the movements of his thumb and his hips, hitting you with a wave of pleasure that had you screaming out his name.
“Cum for oppa, baby girl,” Taehyung growled, hitting your g-spot again with one final thrust before you were sent over the edge, eyes shut as you moaned out his name and released yourself around him, thighs shaking and toes curling. Taehyung cursed under his breath, his cock twitching inside you. After a few thrusts, he found himself cumming inside you, filling you up to the hilt as he moved his phone to film the entire thing.
After taking a moment to breathe, Taehyung pulled out of you, immediately shoving his fingers into you, a loud whimper escaping from your mouth from the feeling. He curled his fingers then pulled them out, moving them to spread his cum across the skin of your rising stomach. When you finally looked up at him, he was licking the excess off of his fingers, staring intently at you.
“You did so good,” Taehyung praised, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. You sighed and smiled, kissing back before he stopped recording to lift you up and move you under the covers. He crawled over you to lie beside you, arm slinging over your waist, his other hand holding his phone. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” You said back, closing your eyes to fall into the dream world. Taehyung rolled over to set his phone on the bedside table when you suddenly heard him speak in a low voice.
“Oh fuck.”
“What?”
You rolled over, looking at Taehyung’s shocked face as he stared at his screen. He froze and ever so slowly turned his head to you, fear overtaking his eyes.
“I may have accidentally sent the video to the group chat.”
You groaned and rolled back over, burying your face in the pillow.
“You’re dead to me, Kim Taehyung!”
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I accidentally posted this to my sims tumblr fml
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