Smutty Fluff - Tumblr Posts

I wrote a thing! It's a romantic and smutty one-shot AU starring the only reason I played S3; my darling surly bastard, Seb. Also the MC is Erikah's twin sister. So that's fun. A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34042801

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/286063585-so-good-staying-here

The happiest of belated birthdays to @mrsbsmooth! You are sweet, tough, smart, talented, kind, supportive, hilarious, and a true joy to know. You deserve a fantastic fucking day. May the marmite flow like rivers and the Ciaran smut give you endless tingles. And speaking of, please enjoy: A VERY NICE BOY: a smutty, fluffy, romantic Ciaran fic.

A03

Wattpad

i can’t properly put into words all the feelings i have for this paragraphs. seriously, they live rent free in my mind. clair de lune is my favorite song - maybe of all times - and it comforts me a lot. thanks for writing, it gave me a lot of comfort <3

Clair de Lune

the softest Taehyung smut.

King of lovemaking: Kim Taehyung. 

This is pwp. Utterly plotless. Soft soft soft smut. The softest. Marshmallow smut. I can’t even make a useful summary. You can totally listen to Clair de Lune while you read it! Also it’s for ADULTS! 18+

Word count: 2.2K   Taehyung x Reader

It’s got to be close to dawn. When you crack an eye to peer out the window the sky is still dark, with a thin line of orange at the lowest point you can see through the rows and rows of buildings. Through the groggy haze of slumber, you piece together your surroundings. The bed beside you, while still warm from his body, is void of your boyfriend. Your searching eyes find him leaning back in his desk chair, the bare skin of his chest glowing in the warm light that flickers from a solitary green candle. Soft piano spills from the phone in his hand. The calming music would most certainly have lulled you back to sleep had it not been for the shock of seeing Taehyung awake at 4 a.m., by choice. You watch him, curiosity piqued. He doesn’t seem upset, just awake, and you wonder what the reason could be. Taehyung drops his phone into his lap and throws his foot up on the desk, satin pajama pants sliding up his calf. The deep sigh he lets out when he drops his head back has you feeling his absence something awful.

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I really love hospital themed fanfics. I'm at med school and relate so so much with y/n it hurts lol BUT the thing is: it's always about the busy schedule, the tired faces and time management. We're all too young to be in this position but here we are, and we have no choice but to put work in first place.

So when a fanfic talks about it realistically, it makes my heart melt like yours did. It's not about flowers and neatly posture, nor healthy working. It's just reality - we're facing the depths of human weaknesses and yet we have to be strong. In the middle, we can find comfort, and with comfort we can find love. That's probably the best scenario I've ever read about it. Thank you so much for writing!

Cardiovascular Palpitations Part 1 (ft. Jeongguk) [M]

→ fluff, angst, smut, mentions of blood/surgery → Jeongguk ft. Taehyung | friendswithbenefits!au, doctors!au → part 1 | part 2 | story talk

It was complicated. But it worked. You two were doctors, cardio surgeons at that. Complicated was usual, it was your business, your work, your lifestyle. And neither of you had time for an actual relationship, for the hours of work for writing heartfelt letters or planning dates out on the beach. Both you and Jeongguk needed quickies in the stockroom, someone to dress up and look hot so he can get revenge on his ex, someone to give a blow job or finger you to relax your nerves before an important presentation, someone to understand the burdens and harsh lifestyle of being a doctor. And somehow in that chaos, you’d found eachother and it worked out. 

Continuar lendo

it's such a shame to say this took my sleep away (and im not joking: it's 3am here)? this fanfic is painfully good. the way every step of this cliché was already drawn but STILL came up to surprise me is endearing. the way jungkook is surprisingly soft overwhelmed me more times than I was prepared to, also, and I could forgive his sassy attitude a million times, just like y/n. they're great in personality and development, also! the more I knew about jungkook, the more I craved for more. i feel like this kookie is just like coffee: addicting, makes you lose your sleep and, despite being bitter at first, you can sense the sweetness in your tongue at every taste. this fic also has the perfectly same characteristics. thank you for writing this, definitely a fav 💜

Cream & Sugar 06 (M) | JJK

SUMMARY: Stepping into this coffee shop was either the best or the worst idea of your life. You know that barista, you know he’s great in bed. You also know he’s the biggest asshole you’ve ever met.

RATING: Explicit fam. 21+

PAIRINGS: Jungkook/Reader

GENRE: Smut, Humor, Escort AU, Barista AU, Enemies to Lovers, Asshole!Jungkook (a la Talk. but different AU entirely.)

WARNINGS: whew. okay. phone sex. lots of sloppy kissing, an eggplant, oral (m receiving), oral (female receiving), fingering, dirty talk, rude ass nicknames, EXTREME SOFTNESS, protected sex, more protected sex. swearing. it’s unbelievably soft. 

WORD COUNT: 10,716

A/N: okay so listen. I am extremely emotionally attached to this fic. Finishing it has me in tears. I love these characters so much, I’m so sad it’s ending. BUT it is. The story is complete. I hope you like this ending, I hope it satisfies you. Please don’t be afraid to drop me an anon if you have screaming to do when you’re finished. I appreciate each and every one of you. Also Ryn said, “your asshole jungkook, is softer than your softest lovemaking tae smut” and I’m heckin thrilled about that. REEEEEEEE let’s get this bread. {posted 10/5/19 and it’s mine.}

Continuar lendo

I miss the Olympics so much :( This made me pretty happy remembering it! It's funny how one of the gymnastics athletes from my country actually won a silver medal lolll And while it happened, a lot of people said that JK would be a great gymnast, so it's amazing to read a fic like that.

I really liked the "no words needed" thing because it reminded me we truly need no words to show some kinds of affection and fall in love with someone. We know people by their gestures, expressions, looks, and I know we need to get their personality to perceive them, but sometimes is... not the point, right?

Thank you so much for writing this! The couple is singular and despite the ~smut~ their shyness was the cutest ever!!!

a bit of a stretch | jjk (m)

↣ pairing: olympian!jungkook x gymnast!reader

↣ genre: fluff, smut, humor, olympics!au

↣ rating: +18

↣ word count: 8k

↣ warnings: language barriers galore, explicit sex, oral, fingering, wall sex, slight exhibitionism, deep penetration, sex against a window, alcohol consumption, jackson wang throws a wild party

↣ playlist: physical - dua lipa // love talk - wayv // freaks - surf curse // juggernaut - tyler, the creator // the king - sarah kinsley // yonaguni - bad bunny // let's get it started - black eyed peas // for your love - maneskin

↣ summary: Stolen glances across the Olympic Village's dining hall. Light brushes of your hands whenever you cross paths. No words ever uttered. No words ever needed.

↣ notes: beta read by @hobisbeautifulass @joheunsaram and @dee-ehn!!! thank you guys so much, you're the best :)) also shoutout to @rmverse for hyping me up while writing this, ily. and also @ressjeon u asked me to tag u in this, so enjoy :)

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

You were hyperventilating.

Jeon Jungkook, South Korea’s golden boy, the most famous male gymnast in the world today, was staring at you, and you were hyperventilating.

It wasn’t your fault, nor his, really. Your friend and roommate Ali had tripped over someone’s foot and dumped all of her blue Gatorade all over your white tracksuit, right in front of the whole dining hall. You, reasonably, wanted to kill her right then and there.

The good news was: only a few people witnessed the tragedy. Bad news? All of the South Korean men’s gymnastics team sat in front of your table, being the titular few who witnessed how your tracksuit turned blue.

You locked eyes with the big-eyed athlete as he chuckled with his friends at your predicament. You, reasonably, turned as red as a stoplight and wished you could bury your head in the ground and not come back out until everyone left the hall.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” your friend said, immediately snatching everyone’s napkins to try (and fail) to wipe the mess away, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Y/N, please.”

“It’s okay,” you mumbled. Ali had failed to notice that the Korean team was laughing at you. “It’s fine. Just leave it. I’ll go back to my room and change.”

Of course, your teammates wouldn’t let you make the trek alone to your dorm, no ma’am. They personally escorted you back to your sleeping quarters in the Olympic Village and waited until you changed into a more presentable outfit. Your friend Ali even offered to wash it for you once you told him what Jungkook had seen.

At least you managed to save a bit of money in that regard.

“One day,” you said while sitting on the bus on your way to the gymnasium where the competition would take place, “one fucking day in this god-forsaken village and I’m humiliated in front of one of the world’s best gymnasts.”

Your teammates laughed at your mocking lamentations, though you thought they weren’t mocking, or sarcastic at all. You really meant it, and though you didn’t blame Ali for the accident, you certainly regretted having that little show be Jeon Jungkook’s first impression of you.

See, the man was more like a rockstar in the gymnastics world. Hell, in the Olympics world, even. Where Simone Biles completely slayed in Rio 2016, Jungkook dominated his entire category that year too. You supposed their shared birth year had something to do with that. Now, the Korean was back with a thirst for more, while these were your first games -- ever. Understandably, you wanted to make a good first impression.

“Just say you have a crush on him and go,” laughed one of your teammates, Karli, twirling her long, purple-dyed hair in her perfectly manicured nails. “I’ll one hundred percent back you up.”

It was Ali who snorted at the comment. “Please, I’d be the first to admit it. That man is so fine.”

You nodded. “Can’t argue about that.”

“Fuck, the money I’d pay to ditch the championship and just look at him during floor exercise. That man’s got moves,” Karli said.

“Bitch, have you seen his TikTok account?” You asked out loud. “He does breakdancing in his free time.”

“Seriously, how is that man even real?” Ali wondered. “You can tell the man is a sweetheart. Like, I’ve seen his interviews, I follow him on Instagram — we all do! He’s even a UNICEF ambassador. Like, I’m ashamed to even breathe the same air as him!”

Your team laughed at her comment, even your coach joining in and fawning over the athlete a little until your bus reached its destination.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

You crossed paths with the gymnast later that night, at dinner. You gripped your tray full of food as you made your way to the dessert station, looking for the fabled chocolate cake your friends had told you about when you saw him arriving right after you. He wore the same white and red tracksuit from this morning, the tattoos of his right hand peeking through. The sight of them made your heart beat even faster, and you wondered if saying something to him would be a good idea. He looked tired, but then again, so were you.

The staff in front of you handed you the slice of cake you requested, and you didn’t miss the way Jungkook’s gaze followed the decadent cake. He looked at the staff and pointed at your cake. “One. Please.”

You hadn’t really heard him speak until then. His TikTok account was filled with videos of him just dancing and doing random challenges. Never did you imagine his voice would sound so sweet, so melodious.

“Do you like chocolate?” Your words left your mouth before you could process them. What a stupid thing for him to say, of course he likes chocolate! If he didn’t he wouldn’t be ordering a big, chunky slice of decadent chocolate cake.

Jungkook froze in his tracks as the staff handed him his plate. His big, doe eyes widened prominently as he turned to you, confused. “Huh?”

“Chocolate,” you pointed at his cake. “Do you like it?”

“Choco- ah, chocolate! Yes! Uhhh… I like!” He looked extremely proud of his response, sending you a pure smile, charming you with his cute demeanor. “You like, too?” He asked, pointing at your cake.

“Yes,” you nodded, “I like chocolate, too.”

“I’m Jungkook,” he said, offering you his tattooed hand, his tray still on top of the railing. You graciously took it, screaming to your insides, trying to calm your erratic heartbeat. “My English, uh, very bad, yes.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his statement. “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

He smiled, showing you his pretty bunny-like teeth. “Where you eat?”

“My table?” You asked and he nodded. “It’s over there,” you pointed to one of the tables closer to the entrance. “Wanna come?”

“Yeah,” he said and began to follow you towards your table. How this happened, you still have no clue. The Jeon Jungkook coming to your team’s table and hanging out? Fuck, you must’ve been dreaming at this point, but you didn’t dare to wake up. This was too good to be true.

Needless to say, your teammates were ecstatic, and a little bit shocked, to say the least. They constantly fawned over him and asked him questions, but he dodged them pretty well citing his pretty basic English skills. You tried to calm them down to no avail. But the real party began when his friends and teammates appeared out of nowhere and sat down along with you, each one prettier than the last. Where did the Korean Olympic team get these people? They looked like models!

One of them was Park Jimin, the shortest of the team, and possibly the loudest, whose English skills were a lot better than Jungkook’s. He took the time to introduce the other two men who accompanied them, Jung Hoseok, a tennis player, and Kim Namjoon, a volleyball player, who acted as a translator for all of them.

It surprised you just how well all of you got along despite the language barrier, and just like that, you exchanged numbers and contact info. Jungkook even followed you on Instagram and TikTok!

You kept talking the entire night, joking around with Jungkook’s friends and your teammates until the hall was almost empty. You couldn’t help but feel there was something going on with Jungkook, with the way he smiled at you whenever you said something to him, the way he looked like he wanted to tell you a thousand things, but couldn’t. If only you could communicate better...

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

After that night, you met Jungkook a couple more times the next two days, though you didn’t exactly cross paths. Most of the times you saw him were at the dining hall, or at the bus stop on your way to the sports complex. You hadn’t really talked much, but he never failed to smile at you and wave.

You didn’t know what it was, maybe it was just your stupid crush on him, but whenever your gazes connected, you felt like floating, like your feet suddenly left the ground and there was no stopping you from reaching the sky. That’s how bad it was. Your teammates noticed it, too. How you would smile and blush like crazy whenever he winked and gave you a thumbs up.

You stayed on top of his progress in the competition — given his previous track record, it wasn’t surprising when he made it to the men’s final in all categories. So when you finally crossed paths that night after the games, you congratulated him and gave him a friendly high five.

He was still a bit confused by the way you spoke, but you supposed it had to do with his English skills, so you tried to put yourself in his shoes, your knowledge of Korean was limited to saying hello.

What surprised you, however, was that he pulled out his phone and signaled for you to wait. You watched as he typed something on his phone and then handed it to you. “Congratulations on going to the semifinals, you will do great,” read on the screen, in both Korean and English. He used Google translate to make sure you would understand him, and that only made your stomach flutter with butterflies.

“Aww, thank you,” you said, sending him a smile. Before you gave him his phone, however, you quickly typed in “You will ace everything. Good luck,” and handed it back to him, translated into Korean. He looked at the screen and gave you a soft smile and a wink, and just like that, the two of you parted ways, but his pretty smile still lingered on your mind well into the night, when you went to sleep.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

To no one’s surprise, Jungkook won the all-around competition and scored golden medals in all categories except for the vault, where he won silver. After the ceremony, you sent him a short message on Instagram congratulating him, and he responded with a bunch of cute emojis and a thank you, then sent you a picture of his medals, and congratulated you for making it to the finals, too.

So this time, you didn’t even hesitate, and as soon as you saw him at the dining hall, you called his name out loud. He was at the dessert station again, ordering the same chocolate cake he ordered a couple of days ago, and turned around as he heard your voice, beaming proudly once you made your way over.

“Congratulations!” You squealed and pulled him into a warm hug, which he reciprocated rather naturally, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him. You certainly didn’t mind the affection, burying your head in his chest and catching a whiff of his expensive cologne. His soft, melodious laughter reverberated across his chest, and you’d never felt more at home while in his arms.

But sadly, all good things come to an end, and when you separated you missed his touch instantly.

He turned around and grabbed his tray. “Come,” he said, pointing with his head towards his friends’ table, where his friends were already waving at you to come and sit with them. You accepted the invitation and quickly ran to pick up your own food and meet them at the table.

“So,” Namjoon explained minutes later, munching on his steamed broccoli, “there’s going to be a party tonight.”

“A party? Where?”

“In our building,” Jimin explained, “the delegation from Hong Kong is inviting everyone.”

“Apparently this fencer named Jackson Wang cleared like two entire floors to have everyone there,” Namjoon said. “He won gold today, and wants to celebrate.”

“Oh, wait, I follow him on Instagram! He’s, like, a model too, right?” You said.

“A very hot model,” Jimin sighed, leaning back on his seat. He then looked at Jungkook, who was next to you eating his food quietly, and spoke to him in Korean. You managed to make out Jackson Wang’s name, so you supposed he was telling him about the party.

Jungkook turned to you. “I go to party,” he said, rather seriously pointing at himself, then pointing at you, “ask your friends.”

“You want them to come to the party too?”

“Yes,” he nodded, “they are funny.”

Namjoon chuckled at his friend’s choice of words. “The party’s in an hour or two, so we better get ready.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Hoping to get lucky tonight?”

Namjoon laughed. It was no secret among Olympians that the kind of stuff that went down in the village wasn’t exactly PG-13. You heard from one of the male athletes in your building that the Olympic Committee had distributed around 160,000 condoms, and that, in some previous instances of the games, they’d used them all up at some point.

“I just wanna relax tonight. I have a game tomorrow morning so I’ll try not to drink as much,” the volleyball player said, “though if I can relax with someone by my side, I won’t say no.” He wiggled his eyebrows comically.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

You didn’t know what to wear. You hadn’t exactly packed for a party, or for a nice outing. Instead, you had sweats, tracksuits, gym wear... the essentials, really. Luckily, you had packed a pair of jeans, but the t-shirts you had weren’t the most flattering. Ali had been kind enough to lend you a Rolling Stones t-shirt that looked halfway decent if you tucked it into your jeans.

So you and your friends made your way, hand in hand, to the Asian building inside the village, making your way to the top floor, as per Namjoon’s instructions. When the elevator doors opened, however, you were greeted with chaos.

Booming music could be heard everywhere. You had no idea how they managed to sneak in some speakers, but the music, what you recognized as the Black Eyed Peas’ I Gotta Feeling, blared everywhere, and you felt the boom of the bass resonating deep within you.

The halls were littered with people from all around the globe talking, drinking, some of them smoking cigarettes and, of course, the exhibitionists who did nothing but make out. It felt more like a frat party rather than a “simple get-together” as you had thought it would be.

You trod the hallway carefully, not wanting to accidentally step on some of the athletes that carelessly sat on the floor, looking left and right for Jungkook and his posse, sometimes even peeking into the olympians’ small apartments that left their front doors open.

After you turned the corner, you saw them hanging out with the legendary Jackson Wang on the far end of the hallway, next to the floor-to-ceiling window. The fencer looked like a million bucks, wearing what you thought was a purely Fendi monogrammed tracksuit, cool shades, and a beanie. Of course, the man was rich as fuck, and he liked to flaunt it. You couldn’t exactly blame him.

Jungkook, however, looked like sin incarnate.

Gone were the tracksuits, the uniforms, and the comfortable gym wear. Instead, he wore black ripped jeans that showed his deliciously meaty thighs and hugged his juicy behind perfectly, paired with a Hawaiian-esque short-sleeved shirt with the top three buttons undone, showcasing his sculpted chest and his full tattooed arm. The man was a walking wet dream. And he saw you.

“Y/N!” He greeted, coming up to your party to welcome you into his arms. “Hi.”

“Hi, you,” you said, relishing the feeling of his firm body. You never wanted to let go of him.

Your friends mingled with the rest, having grown used to each other by now, and exchanging words with Jackson Wang, who appeared to be on cloud nine, clutching his own beer bottle. “Alright, people, drinks are at my apartment, so if you want something, just let me know,” he said.

“Oh, we could do some rounds of vodka, what do you guys say?” Jimin suggested, much to your collective excitement. Jackson punched the air with his fist in pure joy, muttered a ‘yes’, and left to find the bottle, appearing no less than five minutes later with not one, but three bottles of Smirnoff vodka, and several red cups for everyone.

“Dude, where the hell did you get these?” You asked.

“There’s a liquor store a couple of blocks away, me and most of my floormates pretty much emptied it. Kinda like a cleanse, you know,” he informed you matter-of-factly. “The owner was weirded out, but he didn’t really complain. The bill was pretty high, though.”

All of you sat down in the middle of the hall like everyone else, you and Jungkook sitting together against a wall, your knees inevitably touching due to how cramped everyone was, but you didn’t mind it one bit, not when he scooted even closer to you.

The cups were distributed, along with some hefty amount of vodka in them. You weren’t much of a drinker, and you were sure that the goal for today was to not get smashed. Just like Namjoon had told you, there were important events tomorrow which you had to attend, and you needed to bring your A-game into it.

You spent the next half hour just loudly talking to each other, your voices trying to cut through the booming EDM songs carefully curated by Jackson (according to him after Jimin asked whose playlist was it). Whenever someone finished their drink, Jackson ran to fill it again, but you and your teammates decided to play smart and quietly sip on the clear bitter liquid. Jungkook was already on his second round while you had barely downed half of yours, and both of you were taking it slow — by the time you decided to stand up and mingle with the rest of the partygoers, Jimin had already finished his fourth and was looking for the beer stash.

Soon after, your cups of vodka were replaced by beer bottles, and you applied the same strategy as before. Jungkook noticed, but chose to say nothing — he wasn’t drinking that much, too, and you appreciated the sentiment. He wasn’t a big drinker from what you gathered.

Jackson’s roommates passed by everyone offering snacks and packs of chips. One of them, a boxer named Lucas, even held a large black garbage bag filled with party packs of universally known snacks. He recited the contents of the bag to your group like his life depended on it and handed you individual packs of barbecue flavored chips so you could munch down and not get as drunk that fast. Jimin, however, was already pretty tipsy by the time he opened his bag of chips.

The ambiance of the party transported you to those college raves your roommates dragged you to, the stench of debauchery, alcohol, and sex permeated through the hallway. Jackson told you how they procured a duffel bag full of condoms from the Olympic Committee (according to Namjoon, this year they distributed around a hundred thousand condoms, and he was pretty sure that, due to all the horny athletes fucking like there was no tomorrow, it wouldn’t be surprising if they ran out of contraceptives). The duffel bag was located in the middle of the floor, right next to the elevators, and it was already half empty. The bag was full when they placed it there.

A couple of hours later, and the party was in full swing. Just on your floor, there were over a hundred people (maybe more, you didn’t really know) partying their hearts out. You heard from other athletes that the floor below you had pretty much turned into a brothel and people were having sex inside every empty room like it was a frat house. The party had taken over the building and other athletes were also raging three more stories down. It was chaotic.

Then came the pictures. Your teammate Karli had brought a Polaroid camera just to take candid pictures of everyone in their drunken stupor doing random shit. She even captured the moment the other athletes started carrying Jackson around like he was a fucking rockstar. One guy from the British team was having his birthday, and his team even brought a massive cake and sang happy birthday to him, along with everyone else on your floor. Needless to say, the cake didn’t last long, as everyone was given just a small piece. Karli captured the moment someone smashed his face with cake. She also took a picture of you and Jungkook smiling and facing the camera, with his arms around you reminiscing a prom picture.

But that was the thing — he never separated from you. Almost all the time, you had to be touching somehow, grabbing your hand, draping an arm around your shoulder, hugging you at random times, high-fiving you, anything. You couldn’t say you disliked the attention. Hell, you relished it. It was quite obvious now that he had a thing for you, and he wasn’t being as shy about it as before, but neither were you.

Minutes later, after all the dancing and joking around, the group broke out into several smaller groups in which they talked and drank to calm down from all the chaos, but ultimately, you and Jungkook were left alone. So you turned around to face him properly, leaning against the wall.

“You look nice,” you said. “I like your shirt.”

He looked down at his open shirt and shyly fiddled with the buttons. “Ah, thank you.” Then he tried to think his words very carefully. “You look beautiful.”

You inevitably blushed at his words, the way he slightly paused in between them to make sure he said them right. Just then, he delicately took your hands in his. It surprised you just how soft they were, given that a gymnast’s hands would most probably be filled with callouses from gripping the bars too much, but he seemed to take care of his personal appearance, and they were the softest hands you’d ever had the pleasure of touching. “Dance?” He asked, looking at you with sparkly, sweet eyes.

Your heart got caught in your throat, beating faster than the speed of sound. You nodded, watching with awe as he led you into the sea of athletes grinding on each other, partying like a bunch of hormone-addled college kids. You’d danced enough already, but for those pretty eyes, you’d do jumping jacks on the spot if he asked you to.

He placed his hands on your hips the moment you reached the crowd, hanging right on the edge to not feel as cramped in the tight hallway, and you began to gently sway to the beat of the bright pop song blaring from the speakers. He appeared to you like something out of a dream, with his fluffy hair, sparkly eyes, soft cheeks, and bunny smile. In your mind, he was an angel that could do no wrong.

“You’re pretty,” he said, not bothering to hide the wide smile on his face as the song changed to something more upbeat, but you kept the same pace as before, not caring about the world around you in the slightest. In fact, he brought you closer to him, pressing your chests together as you gently placed your palms on his chest. “When I saw you first, I…” he giggled to himself, searching his brain to find the right words to say. “I think?”

“Thought,” you corrected cheekily.

“Thought, yes,” he nodded, “I thought, ‘wow, so pretty’,” he smiled like he just recited a dozen love sonnets to you from memory. It sure felt like it.

You couldn’t stop yourself from giggling like a schoolgirl. Your cheeks hurt from smiling, but you didn’t care; you hadn’t felt like this in months, probably years. “Well, I think you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever met,” you confessed.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Wow, really?” You nodded, taking notice of the way his eyes trailed down to your lips and then back to meet your gaze, then focusing back on your lips. “Can I…” He began, an ounce of hesitation tainting his voice. “Can I kiss you?”

You swore you were going to combust right then and there. He gripped you tighter, your faces were so close to touching yet so far. The world seemed to slow down around you, as if waiting for you to say yes and then have everything go back to normal speed, as if trying to highlight this moment in particular. You nodded, cupping his face and letting your lips naturally gravitate towards each other until they finally met in the softest of first kisses. He was timid, shy, unsure of how to proceed. You didn’t want to scare him. It was so new to both of you, that the mere touch of your lips resulted in a whole slew of emotions running through your body. You felt your feet lifting off the ground, ready for him to take you to the sky.

Just like the kiss began, it ended, far too quick for your liking, but that’s what it was, just an innocent kiss.

You looked into his eyes again, but this time you found them gazing deep into your soul, trying to figure out your thoughts, to pick your brain apart just to know how you worked. You giggled together, like teenage lovers who snuck away just to innocently make out.

“Again?” You asked, taken over by his charming smile. He beamed, a hint of pink creeping up his cheeks, and leaned closer to capture your lips tenderly once more.

This kiss was a lot more passionate than the last, you pressed your bodies so close together it was hard to even breathe, but that was the last of your concerns. His lips were so soft, so skilled, so hypnotizing, you were sure that just his kisses ruined other men for you. He was the absolute best you were ever going to get, and he was making sure you would always remember him wherever you were.

Now a bit more confident, he didn’t hesitate to slip his tongue into your mouth, heady with the taste of beer. You were drunk on him already, head up in the clouds with the way he grabbed you and claimed your mouth so expertly. Your tongues danced and twisted with passion just as you held onto the collar of his shirt, knees already weak for him.

You heard several whistles and some hoots of encouragement around you. The kiss broke just like that, finally remembering you weren’t alone, and that you probably staged a show for all of the partygoers.

Indeed, when you opened your eyes and looked around you, your friends were cheering for you, clapping to the beat of the music. You even heard some screaming “Finally!” and some of Jungkook’s friends were high-fiving. Namjoon reluctantly grabbed his wallet and passed Ali a bill, and you figured they must’ve made a bet of some kind.

Of course, your faces went red from getting caught red-handed. Still holding you close, Jungkook sighed and complained to his friends in Korean, laughing along with them. On the other hand, you held a bewildered gaze with your friends, who only gave you a thumbs up. Karli even yelled at you to get your man, so you hid your face in his chest in embarrassment and laughed.

“Hey,” Jungkook called seconds later. You looked around, and by then your group had scattered and left you alone.

“Yes?” You turned to him, curious, as he shyly looked away for a moment.

“Uh, you wanna, uh, go to my room? With me?” He asked, licking his lips out of nervousness. The question took you by surprise, but you didn’t have time to even process it, because you were nodding almost immediately as if your body was calling out to him so desperately.

He nodded in confirmation and finally let you go, grabbing your hand and leading you past the sea of people, navigating the hallway carefully, and right towards the elevators. You noticed the duffel bag Jackson previously mentioned, and Jungkook quickly crouched down, grabbed a couple, and stuffed them into his pocket. It only made what you were about to do a lot more real for you, and it had your heart thumping wildly inside your ribcage.

The ride down to his floor was rather short. He only lived three floors down, but when the doors opened, you realized that the party was really getting out of control. If anything, Jungkook’s floor was more chaotic than Jackson’s. You witnessed someone throwing a roll of toilet paper around, some athletes were in their competitive uniforms busting it down to a random rap song, and other people were playing volleyball in the hallway. It took a long minute to even get past them, but you managed to reach his apartment door unscathed.

To your relief, his place was empty, but you could still hear the booming bass from outside. He turned on the lights to the small common area between rooms, and then looked at you.

No words needed to be said right then. They weren’t necessary.

He immediately crossed the gap between you, grabbing your face and smashing his lips into yours in a sudden frenzy. The kiss was urgent, desperate, and you held onto the collar of his shirt as if you’d suddenly lose control of your legs and fall over. “Room,” he whispered between kisses, never once letting you go, “my room.”

You broke the kiss, gasping for air. “Which one is it?”

He took your hand in his and led you to the door on your right, quickly getting both of you inside and turning the lights, shutting the door, and locking it. When he was done, he sighed and began to slip off his sneakers. You licked your lips and followed his lead, wiggling your toes when your bare feet touched the hardwood floor.

“So,” you began, pacing around the room while he threw his socks on the hamper next to his luggage. “This is your bed?” You pointed at the bed closest to the window. He nodded and walked over to you. “What do you wanna do?”

He pecked your lips sweetly. “Kiss you.”

You cocked an eyebrow — that wasn’t really the answer you were hoping for. “Kiss me?”

But then his gaze darkened and he placed his hands on your hips. “Everywhere,” he said and began pushing you backward until the back of your legs hit the bed. He kissed you again, shortly, and waited for you to sit down right in front of him. He grasped your chin and made you look up at him as he smirked and fiddled with one of the buttons of his shirt.

Oh.

You watched as he unbuttoned his shirt slowly, revealing inch after inch of gorgeously sculpted skin. It’s not like you’d never seen him shirtless before — his Instagram feed was chock-full of sexy workout pics — but this was different. This was intimate.

His shirt hit the floor and you were blessed with the image of his toned physique. At this point, it was enough to make you drool, and you wondered what would become of you the moment he took off his pants.

He must’ve seen you ogling because he chuckled to himself as he bent down to kiss you again. “Pretty,” he muttered into the kiss. It seemed this was his new nickname for you.

You let him whisk you away to dreamland with that kiss, sighing with content as you cupped his face with both hands to keep him there, but his were doing something entirely different. Instead, he was playing with the hem of your shirt, having untucked it from your jeans, pulling it up with a little bit of hesitation. Like he was waiting for you to give him the go. So you placed one hand atop his to help him pull and hoped he got the idea. Thankfully, he did, and your shirt was off in no time.

He gave you a once over, smirked, and placed his knee on the bed, beside you, and you took it as a sign to climb further up the bed and rest your head on the pillow. Jungkook soon followed, settling on top of you, hands on either side of your head to avoid weighing you down. “Kiss?” He asked, licking his lips.

“Kiss,” you answered, smiling.

Contrary to what you expected, he went for your neck, placing wet, open-mouthed kisses onto the skin, all while his hands roamed your body and squeezed any part they could find. You spread your legs to accommodate him in between them and gently rubbed his back as he looked for your sweet spot, softly nibbling and licking your neck. His crotch met yours and he finally rested his whole weight on you. Opening your legs even further, you wrapped your arms around him, delighted to feel all of him on top of you.

He found a spot at the juncture of your neck and shoulder and bit it. Softly. Intimately. Not too much for it to hurt, but enough to leave a mark, dragging the skin out and releasing it. Your panties were soaked just from that little action.

His lips ghosted atop your jaw, and he came up to taste your lips, albeit briefly, before coming back down to worship your chest, going further down until he brushed the valley of your breasts. He paused for a moment and looked back at you. “Kiss?” He repeated, gaze darker than before.

Breathless, you nodded. “Kiss.”

He grinned, then proceeded to press small kisses to the top of each of your breasts, almost reverentially. His finger hooked onto the band of your sports bra and pulled down teasingly until your breasts were exposed. He looked down on them with hunger and didn’t hesitate to put the right one into his mouth, lips wrapping around your nipple and flicking it with his tongue. You squeezed your eyes shut from the pleasure as he pinched your other nipple, twisting it to his heart’s content until the soft bud turned stiff. Your cunt clenched around thin air and you moaned, cradling his head with your hand, soothingly brushing his bangs out of his face. When he was satisfied, he switched places, all while looking you in the eye, like he was fully aware of just how turned on you were. He sucked on your other nipple like a vacuum, rolling the other one between his fingers as you held back a moan, biting your lip.

He grew tired of it, eventually, releasing your nipple with a wet pop, and you took your bra off, carelessly throwing it to the floor. He grabbed your breasts and squeezed them like a plushie as he kissed down the valley of your breasts and into your belly. He seemed to like how soft your skin was, because he sank his teeth into it, dragging it out and then letting it snap back into place, tongue darting out to lick it immediately after. He reached the waistband of your jeans and wasted no time to take them off of you; you lifted your hips up to help him. Now that you were almost bare, you could see how he licked his lips at the sight of your soaked undies, your legs spread for him only.

He got off the bed and knelt on the floor in front of you, grabbed your ankles and pulled you close to the edge, then put your legs on his shoulders. As he ran his hands along your firm thighs, he raised his pierced eyebrow and said once more, “Kiss?”

At this point, you wanted to shove his face between your legs and never let him come back up, but your mind was so hazy you couldn’t even fathom to speak, so you nodded instead. He leaned down, his hot breath fanning your clothed cunt. “Pretty,” he purred, and pressed a hot, languid kiss to your pussy, inhaling your scent as if you were his favorite meal. Then he leisurely kissed your mound, and your inner thighs, taking his time, all while ignoring your hot center, still very much covered, still very wet for him.

“Jungkook,” you whined after a minute, grabbing his attention, “please.”

He looked at you with lustful eyes. “Kookie,” he told you, “call me Kookie.” And just like that, he slipped your panties to the side and dove in.

If you thought his tongue was skilled before, you were greatly underestimating him.

Like his prowess in the gym, tonguing you down appeared to be his area of expertise. You wondered as he licked a fat stripe from your hole up to your clit, his face smushed between your thighs, how in the world was the man so good at everything. Did he even have a flaw? He must have one, for fuck’s sakes. He couldn’t be that perfect.

Jungkook was full-on making out with your pussy now, moaning to himself as he took in your scent, your taste, licking every inch of you. You could make out the faint lewd sounds of his tongue, how he slurped your juices like it was water, how he enjoyed it all.

He sucked on your clit hard, expertly flicking it with his tongue until you were a mess under his touch, back arching off the bed as you moaned his name aloud. It only seemed to make him go harder at it.

At some point, he slid two fingers in one go, easily filling you up and filling you deeply. Just from the way he curled them, beckoning you to him, as if luring your orgasm any closer, made you understand that this man didn’t come to play. He knew how to fuck, and he was fucking you really well. You knew that after this, after him, nobody else would compare.

You had your fingers tangled in his hair when your orgasm crashed down on you all of a sudden. You cried, thrashed, and trembled on the bed as he fucked you all the way through, helping you ride your high, slurping all of your wetness, and licking you clean. He finished you off with a kiss to your inner thigh, and slowly pulled out and away, putting your legs back down.

“Good?” He asked with a cheeky grin.

You let out a breathless laugh. The room was still spinning around you. “Yeah,” you mused, “so good. Wow.”

While you regained your breath, he helped you take your panties off, swiftly sliding them off of you and throwing them to the floor. You made grabby hands at him to help you sit upright on the bed, and you came face to face with the bulge in his pants.

His black jeans perfectly showcased how hard he was, straining around his crotch so much you thought the button was about to pop off. You wanted so much to just… touch him and please him, just like he pleased you.

You stood up, legs a bit weak but still firm — you didn’t train around 30 hours a week for nothing — cupped his face and brought him down for a kiss. Never mind that he tasted like you, it was hot as hell. You let your hands roam across his chest, down the ridges of his abs, as your tongues danced together, until you finally cupped his length through his jeans. He let out a tiny moan, the most wonderful melody you had ever had the pleasure of listening to, and broke the kiss, slightly bucking his hips towards your hand. You groped him tighter.

“Do you like that?” He hummed in approval. “Can I take it off?” You asked.

“Please,” he whispered, and returned to the comfort of your lips as you unbuttoned his jeans. After quickly unzipping, you began to pull them down, but he grabbed your hands and hooked your fingers over the waistband of his underwear, silently pleading to take everything off in one go.

His jeans and boxers hit the floor, leaving him finally in the nude, bare to your eyes. You kissed him harder as he stepped out of his pants and pulled you closer. Wanting to feel all of him, you pressed your bodies tightly against each other, his big hands grasping your ass and squeezing, his hard cock pressing against your lower belly. You wasted no time and took him into your hand. His cock was hot, hard, and sensitive; that much you could gather based on the way he moaned into your mouth as you jerked him off.

“Hmm, wait,” he said, reluctantly separating from you. You released him, and then he turned around to fish his pants from the floor, digging into his front pockets to procure a condom, the packet emblazoned with the logo of the Olympics. He quickly tore it open and rolled it on, letting out a sigh of relief once he was done.

He grabbed your hands and pulled you close, softly giggling along with you as you kissed again. “Up,” he said later, patting your thigh. You jumped into his hold and crossed your legs around him, hanging onto him like a koala, never fully separating from his lips. He walked blindly around the room, carrying you with ease like you were a mere paperweight, until your back hit a wall.

You ached to have him inside you, and he seemed to read your mind, grasping his cock and lining it with your entrance. He entered you slowly, stretching you out until he sheathed all of himself inside you. The two of you moaned in unison, holding onto each other so tight you half-expected to see marks tomorrow. Your coach wasn’t going to be happy about this.

“Fuck,” you whispered, digging your nails into his shoulders as he gave you a moment to get used to the intrusion. He was having a hard time, too, breathing heavily, trying not to spill his load quickly.

“Good?” He asked, bumping the tip of his nose against yours. “Feel good?”

“Yes,” you answered, the balls of your feet resting atop his perky ass. You’d give anything to squeeze it, but sadly, your current position wouldn’t allow it.

Jungkook then proceeded to thrust into you, starting off slow to get you accustomed to the feeling, steadily building the pace, fucking you deeply and surely. Eventually, he set a hard, deep pace, his pubic bone slightly grinding against your clit, providing you with more pleasure.

You captured his lips in a searing, passionate kiss, just as your toes curled from the onslaught of pleasure that he gave you. He gripped your ass with tremendous force, matching his hard thrusts, the sound of skin hitting skin permeating the otherwise silent room. You could still make out the booming bass of the party outside, but in this room, it was just the two of you. Nothing else mattered.

“Kookie,” you moaned into the kiss. He responded with your name and an even harder thrust. His nails dug into your skin, surely leaving some marks behind. You didn’t care.

He eventually got tired of carrying you, letting you back down on the floor gently, after making you aware of his discomfort. He had just spent the entire day competing at the finals, of course, he was tired — so were you. Even the best gymnasts, with all their stamina, had a breaking point, and you tried not to cross his.

“Sorry,” he said, slightly blushing. You caressed his cheek and kissed him, letting him know it was more than alright.

But then, you had an idea. “Come,” you said, grabbing his hand and leading him towards the large floor-to-ceiling windows that showed a spectacular view of Tokyo Bay.

“Here?” He asked, surprised. You were sure no one was going to see you getting fucked against the window, most of the athletes were busy either partying or sleeping anyway, and the streets below were empty at this time of night.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” you smiled.

Jungkook chuckled and pulled you in for another kiss. “You’re crazy,” he said. Then, he turned you around so you faced the window and smacked your ass, watching with glee how it jiggled. Spreading your legs a bit, you pressed your palms against the glass for some leverage, as he quickly lined his cock with your center and slid into you again, filling you up completely.

The angle made you feel him even deeper than before, and you made sure to let him know. “Shit,” you cursed, “fuck, that feels so good.”

“Yeah? Good?” He asked with that breathy, melodious voice of his, rolling his hips and burying his cock deep into you. Your face and breasts were pressed against the window as he quickened the pace, leaning down to press kisses on your shoulder.

“Yesssss,” you moaned, “fuck me harder.”

“What?” He asked, out of breath.

“Harder,” you repeated, already feeling your orgasm looming closer and closer. You were far too sensitive tonight, and he was bringing you to climax quicker than any other man ever could.

Jungkook obeyed, keeping his quick pace but hitting much harder now, moaning your name aloud with the prettiest voice you’d ever heard, so much that it made you clench all around him as you pictured him furrowing his brows and his features twisting pure pleasure. Overwhelmed, you sneaked a hand below to touch your clit, desperate to feel more. Jungkook had a death grip on your hips, railing you desperately, hard, fast, and deep.

Your legs trembled while trying to keep you upright, jolts of pleasure traveling through your entire body as you rubbed your clit in tight little circles. “Fuck, I’m so close, Kookie, I’m coming,” you whimpered, furiously pinching and touching yourself, your orgasm so near you could already see it.

“Close?” He repeated, leaning closer to kiss your cheek, pressing his front to your back. He grabbed your breasts and pinched your nipples, and that was the last kick you needed to finally leap headfirst into your orgasm.

“Fuck!” You cried out, feeling your clit pulse in pure pleasure, your walls clenching on his cock, warm and tight, legs shaking and body spasming as your orgasm washed over you. Jungkook held you as his thrusts slowly came to a halt. The room was filled with your pants, gasping for air.

“You okay?” Jungkook asked, his lips grazing the back of your neck.

“Yeah,” you replied, “but you haven’t…”

He kissed the nape of your neck and pulled out. “No. It’s okay,” he reassured you, soothingly rubbing your shoulders. “Come,” he said, crouching down and whisking you up bridal style. You squealed, not expecting him to do that, holding onto him for dear life.

“What are you doing?” You giggled.

He walked towards his bed and lowered you gently in it, finishing off with a sweet kiss to your nose and a pretty giggle. He climbed on the bed and knelt in front of you, squeezing your calves with a bit of hesitation written across his face. “Okay?”

You quickly figured what he meant by that. “Okay,” you said, immediately spreading your legs for him. He shook his head and instead grabbed them and put them over his shoulders.

“Like this,” he said, grabbing his cock and entering you swiftly, not stopping until he bottomed out. Though you were a bit sensitive, given how you’d just had an orgasm, you’d never felt him hitting this deep until now, and he knew it perfectly, squeezing his eyes shut and moaning something unintelligible.

“Good? Okay?” He repeated, wanting to make sure you were alright. You reassured him with a nod, and that was it for him. He began to thrust into you ruthlessly — now he was fucking you for his pleasure. Holding onto your legs tightly, he pulled out his cock almost all the way and then shoved it right back in, fucking you so hard he was pretty much rearranging your insides.

He began muttering something in Korean as his thrusts got wilder and sloppier, the filthy, wet squelch of your battered cunt filling up the room. You had no idea what he was saying, but it was hot either way. He could’ve been reciting the times table of eight and you would’ve still found that incredibly hot.

His moans got more high pitched the more he fucked you, and it got you so worked up you started clenching around him on purpose, with the sole intent of watching him fall apart right then and there.

“Kookie,” you called him, caressing his thigh, “come for me, Kookie.”

“Yes,” he moaned, squeezing his eyes shut, and quickening his pace, “Y/N, a-agh!” His orgasm reached him with tremendous force, causing him to spill his load into the condom, his cock twitching inside you as he did so, body going still.

He stayed like that for a hot minute, trying to keep his composure, and when he finally came down from his high, he delicately placed your legs down on the bed, and sat beside you. The small, single cardboard beds weren’t exactly built for two people to sleep in, so it felt a little cramped, but you made it work.

“Wow,” you laughed after a minute. He looked at you with cute Bambi eyes, and you couldn’t resist the urge to hug the man to death. You scooted to the side and patted the small space next to you, and he gladly accepted the invitation, lying on his side and spooning you, pressing tiny kisses to your shoulder. “This was nice,” you said.

“Very nice,” he said, “I liked it. I like you.”

You tried not to make the blush in your face too evident, but it was nearly impossible. “I like you too, a lot,” you confessed.

He gave you the prettiest smile you’d ever seen, so bright it could light up the entire village if he wanted. “Good,” he said, pressing another kiss to your shoulder. He just couldn’t help it. “Can you stay?”

You didn’t even think it through. “Yes.”

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

You were hyperventilating.

This was happening, and you were a hyperventilating, crying mess. A silver medal. A fucking silver Olympic medal for the vault. You couldn’t believe it.

Your team screamed for you with delight as you stepped onto the podium. The fight had been a tough one. Your final score was just a hair away from beating the top gymnast in there, but for your first Olympics? This was a whole accomplishment, in and of itself. This called for a celebration, a party, whatever it was. You just wanted to make the most out of this.

As you bent forward to receive the medal, your gaze diverted to the side, to the bleachers, where other athletes sat and watched. In the middle of them all, there stood Jungkook, wearing the proudest smile on his face, standing up for you, phone in hand, recording it all, cheering for you.

As the winner’s national anthem was played, you watched your flag ascend along with the other athletes’, and you couldn’t fight the tears that came.

I'm just ........... no words. No words. That's just exactly what I'd do if i found a taehyung wandering there and omfg Mr Kim is so dominant I'm about to tear for real isfjfjrnejdjdms help *calls an ambulance* tysm for writing and also wrecking my brain with these images

soaring high | kth (m)

Summary: A twelve-hour flight passes fast when a scorching hot, single parent is there to entertain you all throughout the day – with his words… as much as with his fingers. 

pairing: dilf / single dad!Taehyung x reader

genre: s2l (?); fluff, smut, some crack?

rating: 18+

warnings: talk about a past divorce & a toxic ex, flirting, teasing, oc’s and my voice kink 😵‍💫, slight age gap, tae’s kid and jimin are the sweetest pair of dorks everrrr; explicit sexual content: (hard) dom!tae, public sex (they do it in the plane restroom), unprotected sex (don’t do it, pls & thank u), handjob, groping, fingering, oral (m. receiving), throat fucking, cum swallowing, rough sex, dirty talk, manhandling, breast play, crying (cos taeconda too good), light choking, slight degrading (he calls her his cumslut grr), mention of some spit, my mirror kink i guess, aftercare (or as much as possible in a plane); literally, tae keeps smirking cockily… that ass, like 1 sweater weather reference, pls spot <3

word count: 8.5k

a/n: i needed to write this to get the idea out of my system, i’m sorry for all the content that’s still coming this week LMAO; thank @kimtaehyunq​​​​ along with single-dad-tae-anon for encouraging me, and again, maggie, CANNOT THANK U ENOUGH FOR THIS HAWT BANNER AND COMING UP WITH THE AMAZING FIC TITLE !!! another thank u to @jimilter​​​​ for hyping me up and making this brainfart SO much better, it was a mess honestly; ily guys T_T hope u guys enjoy !!

MASTERLIST | WIPs

You thoroughly dislike flying alone.

The fact that you won’t be able to set foot onto firm cement for the next eleven hours irks you. If you were in someone’s pleasant company, you’d probably stare at the line in front of you less grimly. The tempo in which the staff here operates does nothing to ease your mind, either.

That’s why airports are your least favourite place in the world; yes, you get to travel the world, but at what damn cost? At the cost of going through the infinitely long boarding process, just to sit in a vehicle that might or might not serve cold food and offer horrible movies?

Science needs to take it up a notch. You want teleportation to be a thing already.

Continuar lendo

things escalated quickly yet softly????? taehyung is a cutie??????? but also a jerk??????

I kinda adored - in a confusing way - this dynamics of e2l. it's not anything new I am a big fan of degradation this trope and this surprised me, specially because of the tension the two characters had. if i were oc (and it's totally acceptable bc i already worked in a lab as a chem student) I'd lose my patience pretty quick too, giving the amount of effort we are used to make things perfect (and when I mean perfect, it is perfect).

also labs are good places for people to do filthy things and i think you should write a pt2 about this 🥺🥺 (please) but if you don't tysm for writing already 💖

Love Isn’t a Science

Pairing— Kim Taehyung x female reader   Genre— Smut, angst, college au, enemies to lovers au, laboratory au (? I’m sorry there’s gonna be some lab stuff), some comedy and fluff if you squint maybe Warnings— Taehyung being a dick, fingering, oral (fem receiving), sex in general, some name calling (but like baby and babygirl), light spanking, some alcohol intake, swearing   Word Count— ~8k Summary— Working in a lab was going smoothly until a cocky upperclassman decided to show up 

A/N— I hope you guys enjoy this! I wish something like this happened to me during my undergrad lab days. The super cool banner was made by @kimtaehyunq! As always, don’t be afraid to leave any comments or feedback!

Finding an undergraduate research position at a top tier research University is no easy feat. However, you managed to find one that was perfect for you, plus the PI offered to pay you. That’s basically like finding a needle in a haystack. You were beyond ecstatic to begin working your first lab job, especially since you weren’t sure if research was for you. This was the perfect opportunity to weed out possible careers for after graduation. 

That was a year ago. Now, you’re the most trusted undergraduate student in the lab. You’re often given your own samples to work with, on top of helping out the graduate students and postdocs. Taking pride in the high expectations placed upon you, you worked diligently every day to prove yourself to your older coworkers. Over the course of the past year, the lab director had given you at least four other undergraduates to mentor. They were told to follow you around as you showed them the ropes. Initially you were happy with the new responsibility. You did your best to answer any questions they had, and always showed them how to do everything step by step. 

Continuar lendo

You're not alone. Do it! 😍

So I’m Rewatching Saving Hope..

(Except the last episode, of course)

And I was wondering if we had any SH fans..

Any interest in a Doctor Joel x reader fic?

Or am I alone in my unwavering love for the bad boy doc?

Church Boy-Ataraxia

"I don't know, Trav..." I truthfully answered, smiling and giving a lighthearted giggle to lighten the mood. "Oh..." he muttered. He sighed deeply and looked down at the bed as if it were going to morph into an answer if he looked long enough. "Do you need to tell me anything?" I asked, cupping his face. "I do...I don't feel good enough, I feel like a sinner, and I have this urge in my chest that I can't get rid of. I feel controlled and trapped and just...like I'm not my own person..." he admitted, letting a few tears fall from his amber eyes.

"Trav, you are enough. Why would you be a sinner? You're a saint." I assured, smiling to support my statement. "Sometimes, we have urges that we can't fulfill. It's normal. You are your own person. I'm so grateful to know you and be here right now. You are my favorite person and I love being around you." I said, letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding. 

"Why...why don't you hate me...?" he murmured, not meaning for me to hear him. "I don't hate you because you don't deserve my hate..." I answered, twirling some of his hair between my fingers. "But..." he muttered, sniffling slightly. "No buts. I don't care what you think, to me, you deserve the world..." 

"I don't deserve you, Sal."

"You don't deserve me, you're right..."

"I know..."

"You deserve better..."

"Sal, you're the best they get."

"I'm really not, you have other friends who love you so much more!"

"No."

"What?" "No, I don't. I have nobody else."

"You have your parents."

"Parent."

"Oh..."

"I would, but he would just call me a sinner and punish me... I can't do anything. Like I said, no free will."

"Trav, you need to start doing what you want to do. Not what everyone else wants."

"Whatever I want?"

"Yea, go for it. You only live once, y'know?"

"Yeah, guess so..."

"So, go ahead! Right now, is there anything you've been dying to do? I could help!"

"There is, actually..."

"Do it!"

"Are you sure?"

"Of course!"

"Do me a favor and promise me you won't be mad..." he whispered, sitting up and motioning for me to do the same. So, I did, I sat up onto my knees and looked up at him. Worry and apprehension was plastered on his face as he waited for me to respond. 

"I promise you; I won't be mad."

"Here goes..." he whispered, reaching a hand up and grabbing my chin. I was in shock as his lips met mine. He pulled away after a second. "Travis, did you really just...kiss me?!" I whispered, my eyes wide and my lips parted. "I did...I'm sorry, that was uncalled for...I-" 

He stopped talking as I went back in for more. His lips were soft, and I craved how they felt. "Travis, don't be sorry..." I murmured. "M'kay..." he whispered, struggling as he didn't want to pull away. Travis grabbed my chin and parted his lips from mine. 

I threw my arms around his neck and crawled into his lap as he put his own on my skinny waist. Our lips met again, this time, he gently poked at my lower lip, requesting entry. I opened my mouth, allowing him to move his tongue around, exploring as he pleased. I moved closer, fiending for every part of him I could have. 

He let out a small whimper as I grabbed the front of his shirt to pull him closer. 

Travis' POV:

We were talking and he said I should just do what I wanted to. I sat up as he promised me that he wouldn't be mad. Once he answered, I pondered what I should do. 

Should I do it?

What if he's straight?

What if he tells?

"You only live once..." Sal had said. His words reverberated in my mind as I grabbed his chin and just fucking went for it. His lips met mine and I felt as though I could live forever. He was warm and soft and tasted like coffee. 

I pulled away as the realization set in. "Travis, did you really just...kiss me?!" he whispered, eyes wide and lips parted. "I did...I'm sorry, that was uncalled for...I-" my apology was quickly cut off by Sal kissing me again. Between kisses, he whispered something along the lines of "Travis, don't be sorry..." and I just agreed and allowed our session to continue.

I parted from him, grasping as much air as possible without wasting any time. When I was away, he threw his arms around me and crawled into my lap, straddling my legs. I gently poked at his bottom lip, he opened his mouth and a whole area that had yet to be explored was now mine. He grabbed my collar and pulled me closer to him, I let out a small whimper, that I hope he didn't hear, in response. 

He smiled; I know because I felt his lips shift. I guess he heard. "You're such a fucking bottom..." he whispered into my ear, rubbing his hand down my torso. "I love you..." he whispered, cupping my face and looking me in the eyes. "I love you too..." I muttered, smiling like the idiot I am.

I'm so grateful he couldn't see.

Sal's POV:

The whimper sent me...

I told him I loved him. He said it back...

He.

Said.

It.

Back.

The realization of his words settled in, and I pulled away. I felt tears rising to my eyes as I stared at the dazed boy in front of me. I started to sob and hiccup, burying my face in my hands. "Sal? What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?" he frantically asked, pulling my hands away from my face. 

I quickly shook my head as my hands were once again around his neck. "What the fuck is going on!?" my father yelled, busting through the door. "What the fuck did you do? Why is my son crying, you fucking bastard, answer me!" he screamed, stepping closer to us. "I don't know! I don't know what happened! He just started crying!" Travis defended, raising his arms. 

"He...he...didn't look away!" I whispered, looking at my father with the widest smile he'd ever seen me put on. "What?" my father asked, relaxing his stance. "Trav, can I tell him?" I ask, quietly. "I don't know. Not yet..." he answered. 

I nodded and Travis lifted his fingers to wipe underneath my eyes. My dad was still standing in the doorway, hair disheveled and messy, eyes wide and fearful. "Nothing happened, dad. I need a second with Travis. Can you...?" I ask, gesturing for him to leave. He nodded and stepped out, closing the door behind him. 

"Travis, I just gotta ask...was that your first kiss?"

"Uhm...yea...it was. What about you?"

"Mhm, it was mine too."

"So, are we like...dating? Or?"

"If that's what you want."

"It is...is that...what you want too?"

"Yea..."

"..."

"..."

"You're so beautiful."

"Where's this coming from?"

"Dunno, the heart? I guess."

"Shut up, that's so cheesy."

"Fine. I can stop being nice to you."

"I was kidding!"

"I know, I know."

"Should I tell my dad?"

"Sure, tell him not to tell mine. He's a homophobe."

"Damn, so that's where you get it?" 

"Fuck you."

"You would."

"No comment..."

"Ha!"

"Shut it, Sally."

"Make me."

"I made you a few minutes ago, remember?"

"I do. How could I forget? Such a wondrous experience~"

"You're so fucking gay."

"..."

"..."

"Well, whose fault is that?"

"I take full responsibility."

"Okay, I'm letting him in."

"M'kay."

I opened the door and let my father in. He was leaning up against the wall. Once he entered, he glanced over to the red and nervous Travis before switching his attention toward me. "So, what?" he asked. "Dad..." I muttered, excited beyond belief. He cocked an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue. "Travis and I are dating!" I said, throwing my arms around my father's waist. "I figured you were gay, Sal. Never thought Travis would be, though." he commented, resting a hand on my upper back. 

"Ouch, okay." I said, letting go and barreling into Travis, knocking him over. "Help me." he mouthed. My father smiled sincerely and gave Travis a sweet wink before leaving. He closed the door but popped his head in a second later for another comment. "So, what size condoms?" he asked, dodging as I threw a pillow at his face. 

I could hear him chortling outside the room. "I hate him..." I joked, looking over at Travis who had gone red. "Did he just ask that?" Travis pondered, turning to look at me with genuine fear and shock on his face. 

"Yup! And guess what? I have to live with him!" I retorted, smiling hard. "Rest in peace." he said. I cocked an eyebrow at his remark. "Your loss of fucking braincells." he finished. I punched his arm. "Hey! I'm not that stupid!" I defended. "You're in love with me." Travis retorted. "So?"

"So, you're stupid."

Originally posted March 21st 2023 on Wattpad)

"Church Boy." - Ataraxia - Wattpad