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personasintro · 7 months

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Mutual Help | #18

𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: @kithtaehyung

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

Leaving your overthinking for the rest of the day has probably been one of the best decisions you've decided to make on this starting trip. You won't let yourself overthink all that stuff, not allowing yourself not to have fun and think through every Jungkook's action. It shouldn't matter if he did it to get Kiko's attention or not. You know her attention is subtly focused on the both of you, no matter how many times she's trying not to stare at you and act nice towards you. Maybe she just feels bad after you stormed at her, and you can't forget the fact that she's hiding something, according to Jungkook's words.

He told you how he wants to enjoy this trip, regardless if Kiko will be here or not. And she is, yet you can see him watching her whenever he thinks nobody sees him.

After all of you had fun at the lake, you let yourselves dry in the burning sun before it got too hot and unbearable, to change into clothes and play some sport games. Namjoon brought a soccer ball, which obviously led to a soccer game. At first, it was a men vs women game, which could never lead to a complete trouble free game. Surprisingly, you weren't bad as a team like you expected you to be. You were doing pretty good actually, to your standards and mutual strength at least. Unfortunately, and quite obviously, men were better and it seemed super easy for them to win.

"That was foul!" Minjae screamed at them, making sure they heard her across the huge soccer field that you made for yourselves.

"No, it wasn't. Seulgi stumbled on her own, Namjoon didn't even touch her." you told her, replaying the memory you just saw a few seconds ago.

"Y/N! You are supposed to be on our team!" Seulgi laughed, shaking her head at Minjae's attempt to save your already bad score.

Shrugging, you just sent them an apology smile. "I'm just honest."

Looking at Jungkook, you saw him sending you a flying kiss with a smirk, his way of thanking you because they just added another goal to their score.

Then you created a new team, a mixed team so all the men could finally play at least some kind of serious game. You, Jungkook, Jimin and Seulgi. The other team was Kiko, Hoseok, Namjoon and Minjae while Taehyung remained as a referee. Your team won, with Jungkook's energy and skills, you barely had to do anything other than to kick him the ball whenever it somehow stumbled in front of your feet. Regardless of that, you were still proud of yourself for winning, even though it was mostly Jungkook and Jimin's merit.

The rest of the day went like this and before you realized it, it was time for dinner while the sky was getting darker with each passing minute.

Now, the sky's completely painted dark with beautiful stars sparkling in the distance with sounds of crickets echoing through the space. Even the sound of fire sizzling and the warmth that spreads on your face because of it, is oddly calming. You take that moment to cuddle up to Jungkook, who's sitting next to you, with his arm over your frame pulling you closer. Stomach full, all you can muster to do is listen to everyone's chattering and laughter that slowly fades in the distance as you let yourself think. Your eyes automatically drift to Kiko, who's sitting obliquely from you, head resting on Hoseok's shoulder as he keeps laughing and nodding along to Namjoon's funny story of how he broke his sister's bathroom door.

"Hey, are you sleepy?" Jungkook asks softly, shoulder slowly nudging the side of your face as you frown.

"Kinda," you sigh, "But not really. I think the fire's making me sleepy." you admit, appreciating the warmth of it warming your face.

Even though it's July, it gets even colder at night than back in Seoul. It makes sense, considering you're surrounded by hills and more located to the South.

"You wanna take a walk?" he asks, your head lifting in interest as you look around.

"But it's dark." you point out, not seeing any lamps, well instead of the flashlights and disposable torches the boys had brought, that surrounds the space around you where you're camping.

"Oh, are you scared?" Jungkook nudges you with his shoulder again, shaking your whole body with the single movement as you roll your eyes. "Don't worry, I'll protect you." he promises, a cocky grin earning its place on his lips.

"I'm not scared, you moron." you tell him, faking annoyance and it still makes him chuckle at your attempt.

"Sure, whatever you say." he muses, teasing you but all you give him in response is another roll of your eyes and grin that can't be hidden anymore.

"Okay, let's go. But if we see or hear anything suspicious, we're coming back." you tell him, pursing your lips while you stare at him sternly, daring him to say something different.

His nose scrunches and he starts to laugh at you, but nods to your words nevertheless. "We'll take our phones with us and light up our flashlights on, you big baby." he says, jumping to his feet as he shakes his head to ruffle through his hair.

Big—big baby? The audacity!

Standing up, you dust your sweatpants and take Jungkook's hand that he holds up for you to take.

"We'll be right back. We're gonna just take a walk." Jungkook informs the group, making them nod in response before they barely pay attention to the two of you leaving.

They are too busy chattering while drinking beer and soju. Or at least it seemed like it because as soon as you're in the safe distance of not hearing them, Taehyung turns around and watches you walk further and further away.

"Do you think they're gonna fuck?" he asks, cheeks red from the fire but also from the amount of soju he's already drank.

Jimin cackles, telling him to stop drinking that much although, his own eyes drift to your disappearing bodies. What they don't see is the look on Kiko's face that makes her straighten and take a deep breath. It doesn't go unnoticed by Hoseok and he wraps his arm around her petite frame, pulling her closer as he presses his nose into her hair.

"You okay?" he asks her silently, making sure nobody else listens to him.

She looks at him for a brief second before her eyes focus on the flame of the fireplace Jungkook and you made. It's almost as if it's mocking her straight in the face. "Yeah, I'm sure." she assures her best friend, giving him a weak smile but he's not buying it.

"Kik," he sighs, but she just shakes her head in response.

"I'm fine, Hobi." she tells him and ends the conversation there, but still cuddles to him even more.

When he squeezes her, she feels at least some kind of comfort and is incredibly thankful for her friend. Hoseok knows, yet doesn't pressure her into anything and even if she's acting like nothing's wrong, he begs to differ but doesn't say anything. He shows his support with the stronghold he has on her body, silently telling her that he's there for her.

"What? I'm just wondering!" Taehyung exclaims, shrugging his shoulders innocently and the simple act makes Jimin snort.

"Stop wondering about your friends' sex life." Jimin reasons, hearing a loud snicker coming from Namjoon's mouth this time while Seulgi and Minjae busy themselves with stuffing their mouth and act like they're not listening to the conversation.

"Don't tell me you don't think they're shagging—"

Hoseok cuts him off by throwing an empty cup at him, perfectly aimed at Taehyung's forehead. "Shut up, Tae." he scolds him, but grins nevertheless to ease the tension that his reaction might have caused.

Taehyung frowns, rubbing his forehead as if the empty cup could've really hurt him but he listens. He closes his mouth and starts to bicker with Jimin, when he gives him another lecture about alcohol and his low tolerance.

"This is healing," you fill the silence with your soft voice, eyes focused on the moon lightening above your heads.

Jungkook follows your vision, humming in response before he looks at the lake that sparkle with the same reflection of the moon. "It really is," he agrees, "It's cold though." he chuckles, hearing you doing the same.

"Yeah, I thought it'd be slightly warmer. I hope we won't be cold while sleeping in tents." you voice out your worries.

"We'll just have to wear a lot of clothes. But if you're gonna be too cold, just tell me. We can sleep in the car." he says, making you smile at his thoughtfulness.

"How are we gonna fit there?" you chuckle, not being able to imagine the two of you trying to fit in the back of his car, even though his current car is bigger than the one he used to have. Or you could just sleep in front, but you surely won't get any quality sleep there.

"Then I'll sleep in the tent and you can sleep in the car." he shrugs, your mouth pouting automatically at his words.

You'd feel awful and guilty for sure if that happened. Sure, Jungkook is a big boy and probably doesn't get cold that easily, compared to you, but still.

"Jungkook, no." you shake your head.

"Or, we could just cuddle and keep ourselves warm." he pokes you in the ribs, causing you to giggle as you slap his shoulder.

Or, that's an option too.

"How are you feeling?" you ask, nibbling on your bottom lip when you're met with silence and Jungkook's steps halting until he stops.

"What do you mean?" he asks, brows furrowed in confusion.

Stopping too, you walk closer to him and lean against one of the trees that are near the edge of the lake. "Kiko's here." you point out, causing him to chuckle while he hides his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants.

"I'm aware," he laughs lightly, and you do the same because it's nice to see him not depressing over her. "I really wanna enjoy this trip, but I can't help but notice how close she seems to be with Hoseok."

And then you see it. Frown settles on his lips at the mention of Hoseok. Of course, he noticed how close they were and probably still are at the fireplace.

"They're best friends, Kook. You don't think they're dating, do you?" you cock your head to the side, a breeze slightly ruffling your hair.

"No," he shakes his head, frowning once again. "I don't know, something feels shady. They're definitely hiding something, I just have no fucking idea what it is."

The memory of Jungkook telling you about the possible secret that Kiko's hiding crosses your mind, but you're just as clueless as Jungkook is right now. You don't know them that much, but Jungkook does.

"What could she possibly be hiding from you?" you think out loud, thinking about all the possible scenarios that could've happened.

"Whenever I see her looking at me, or even when we were talking at Jin's wedding... I could see how guilty she looked," he says, deeply in thought. "I know her so well, I just know there's something more to this and Hoseok basically confirming that at Jin's wedding just proves my suspicion."

"Well, either way, she's not gonna tell you and neither will Hoseok. How are you planning to find out?" you ask, growing confused.

There's nothing he can do. The only thing is to get your little plan to keep going and finish it before some damage will be done. Surprisingly, playing Jungkook's girlfriend isn't hard so far. The two of you have always been more touchy and comfortable around each other, so none of this feels uncomfortable or foreign to you or Jungkook. Obviously, it all faded away and even stopped when he started to date Kiko which you understand. It was out of respect to her, even though she probably never voiced jealousy. That's what kind of gentleman Jungkook is.

"The only thing I can think about, considering her weird and suspicious behavior, and the fact she seems so fucking guilty about something... what if she cheated on me?" he says quickly, his brain processing his own words while he seems to be stunned he finally voiced out his suspicion. It makes it more real and now that he said it out loud, it makes much more sense.

But even to you, it doesn't make much sense. "You think she'd cheat on you?" you ask confusingly, knowing how Jungkook swore that she's the least selfish person he ever met.

"Argh! I don't know!" he exclaims, covering his face into his huge hands as he groans into them.

Sadness overcomes your features and your body moves on its own, hugging Jungkook's muscular body while you cuddle your face into his chest. His hoodie smells just like him, his favorite fabric softener and that sweet, yet muscular scent he always holds. Sighing, he hugs you closer to him.

"I don't think she'd, but what am I supposed to think?" he asks, voice muffled by your hair as he kisses the top of your head.

"She loves you, Kook. I don't think she cheated on you." you tell him, but he just shakes his head.

"We don't know that." he disagrees, causing you to chuckle as you slightly pull away and look up at him.

Your noses are almost touching from the proximity between you two.

"We don't, but I can see the way she's looking at you. She's trying to be so nice to me," you let out a dry chuckle, causing Jungkook to do the same thing, however his one isn't dry but almost loving at the mention of his ex.

"That's her." he adds, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

"But I just see the sadness in her eyes. I might not know her that well, but even I can tell. She doesn't seem jealous..." you trail off, looking back into his dark orbs that shine underneath the moonlight.

"You'll tell me when this gets too much for you, right?" he asks, your brows furrowing in confusion as you stare at him.

"Of course, that's what we agreed on." you remind him, surprised he brought up that topic.

He nods, bringing his back to your face as he gently grabs it and starts caressing the apples of your cheeks. Your eyes flicker shut, enjoying how soft his hands feel against your skin and you happily hum, making him chuckle but not stopping him. Nudging your nose with his own, you whine at his hot breath fanning your face.

"Kiss me, Kook." you whisper, having this sudden need to feel those plushy lips again.

You haven't kissed since you came here, which is quite surprising because you thought you'd, at least as soon as you saw that Kiko's here too. But for some reason Jungkook never insinuated a kiss.

But he listens to you now, kissing you by quickly connecting your lips as he holds your face even tighter. It feels needy and it strokes your ego that he kisses you almost as if he missed your lips. Well, you certainly missed his ones.

The moan slips out of your mouth as soon as the kiss gets rougher and he slowly backs you, until your back meets the tree again. His hands are everywhere, from gripping your hips to pulling up your leg and hooking it up over his hip to properly feel your thigh, all while he's still kissing you. Your own hands are occupied by nails digging into his hoodie before they trail down to his ass, giving him a squeeze. He smiles into the kiss, but still doesn't pull away. You're gasping for air, causing him to detach your lips but his own starts to work on your neck where he ducks your skin. You're moaning, head leaned against the tree while the wood is too harsh and uncomfortable, but you don't dare to move. Excitement overtakes you're whole body and with your leg that he's still gripping tightly, hooked over Jungkook's hip, you grind onto him. He groans, grinding back where you can feel his bulge. Through the countless amount of layers, you can't feel him the way your body craves to, but it's still enough to make you clench around nothing as you feel yourself getting aroused.

You grind against each other, desperately trying to get ahold of that pleasure and lust that clouds your minds and bodies, but the clothing you're both wearing and position makes it hard. It's not enough, unless the two of you would undress which isn't such a smart idea considering the weather. As if Jungkook thinks the same thing, he stops grinding against you and rests his head on your shoulder while his chest heaves with quick breaths. You're no different, long and loud breaths leave your mouth as you wrap your arms around his frame. Slowly, he lets go of your leg and steadies himself more before he fully straightens himself and grins at you.

"That's not what I was expecting when I asked you for a walk," he jokes, a loud snort coming out of your mouth as you shake your head at him.

It's always like that. You never planned for this to happen, it always just does. Naturally, and you like that because it doesn't feel forced.

"I wasn't expecting it too, but I'm not complaining." you grin, hands brushing through his fringe that got too long and keeps falling into his eyes.

"Trust me," he says, grin disappearing as a darkened look overtakes his already doe and dark eyes. He hovers over you, teeth nibbling on your ear before his mouth brushes your earlobe. "I'd fuck you here, if it weren't this cold."

Your breath hitches in your throat and you restrain yourself from reacting audibly, knowing he'll love that and tease the shit out of you later. You can't believe he just said that. Would he really do that?

"I wouldn't let you," you mutter, mustering a serious and tough expression where you raise your brow and purse your lips to prove your point. "Someone might've seen us." you reason, but the only thing he gives you in return is a loud laugh that makes you shush him straight away, a huge grin spreading on your lips.

"Who? There's nobody here." he says, outstretching his arms like he's the one who's proving his point.

"You don't know that, it's too dark to tell." you shrug, giving his chest a good slap when he smirks at you.

"Exactly, it wouldn't be too hard to tell if we're fucking or not."

"Oh my god!" you exclaim, hearing him cackling. "Just shut up, Jeon." you shake your head at him, hiding that huge grin again from him by walking past him and getting some safe distance from his dangerous and irresistible self.

"Oh, am I Jeon now? Thought I was Kook."

You hear him teasing you, before he jogs over to you and places his arm over your shoulders as he pushes you closer to his chest. You don't protest, not when he's incredibly warm and comfortable at the same time.

"Thank God, you're not my real boyfriend. I couldn't stand you." you grumble, teasing him as you poke his hip before you wrap your arm around his frame, holding him.

"Ah, you wish. I'd be the best boyfriend." he shoots back, making the two of you burst in laughter as you keep bickering and teasing each other for the rest of the walk back.

It just reminds you that nothing has changed. Well, apart from you get to kiss him— amongst the other stuff — now.

When you get back, you give Jungkook a last nudge to his shoulder before you detach yourself from his hip, looking at your friends. Taehyung wiggles his brows, cheeks flushed even in the darkness and you don't have to guess what caused it, considering the stupid amused grin he always has whenever he drinks too much alcohol. You're not the only one who notices it, Jimin tells him something but his best friend just shushes him and waves a hand in front of his face, telling him to shut up.

"You guys done?" he asks, wiggling his brows while staring at you before his eyes averts to Jungkook.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jungkook asks, confused, reaching for some dried seaweed as he munches on it.

"Ignore him, he's had enough." Jimin speaks up before Taehyung can open his mouth, frowning at his best friend's interruption.

"Where's everyone?" you ask, changing the topic since you've got an idea what Taehyung was aiming at. Whatever it could be, it's not something that should be said in front of Kiko, or anyone at this point.

The seats where Hoseok, Seulgi, Minjae and Namjoon were sitting are empty, and now that you pointed out their absence, Jungkook seems to notice their missing too as he starts looking around.

"They went to sleep," Kiko answers, cuddling herself to some fluffy blanket as she glances at you before she focuses on the flames instead. "I think I'm going too. Tomorrow is gonna be a long day." she says, letting out a chuckle but it seems forced and tired.

She stands up, still wrapped in the purple blanket as she bids everyone a goodnight before she goes into her tent, joining Seulgi and Minjae.

"Is she okay?" Jungkook whispers, glancing at Jimin who gives him a saddened gaze before he shrugs.

"She seems a little bit off, but I think it's just awkward for her to be here with you guys." Jimin explains, his voice silenced so everyone sleeping in the tents nearby can't hear you. He gives you an apologetic look which you just shrug off, knowing he's only telling the truth.

"She knew we were coming here, I suppose." you mutter, ignoring Jungkook's side glance before he sighs and grabs you by your shoulders.

"Well, we're going to sleep too. You guys, don't set anything on fire." he tells them, Taehyung already spacing out but still protests whenever Jimin tells him to go sleep.

It's clear Jimin doesn't want to leave him alone, something that wouldn't be a good idea in Taehyung's state. It's funny and cute how they remind you of your friendship with Jungkook. They have each other's back all the time.

"We'll try to," Jimin chuckles, patting Taehyung's head as he cuddles to Jimin's side. "Goodnight."

Approximately twenty minutes later, when you bid goodbye to Jimin and Taehyung, you and Jungkook are happily nestled in your sleeping bags. With a few layers of blankets that Jungkook brought underneath your bodies, it's softer than you expected it to be and you find it comfortable. The only thing that bothers you is the chilly air that makes you toss around as you're trying to keep yourself warm.

"Come here." Jungkook sighs, his own sleeping bag rustling as he pulls out his arms to pull you closer.

"What are you doing?" you mutter, silently humming as soon as you feel his warm chest pressed against your back. You're definitely warmer now.

"Cuddling you, obviously." he snorts, nuzzling his nose into your neck causing you to let out a silenced giggle.

With his large hoodie already on, the very one he brought you from his car as soon as you started to complain about the weather and being cold, you allow yourself to relax. However, Jungkook doesn't stop there and he starts kissing your neck, leaving soft and innocent pecks that make you bite your lip. You don't move, allowing him to kiss you some more while he rubs your body which is difficult to feel, since you're wrapped in your sleeping bag. Unzipping your sleeping bag, you ignore your body protesting by shivering from the temperature in your tent.

"You're gonna be cold." Jungkook murmurs against your neck, his silenced and raspy voice causing you to shiver again. Not from the cold this time.

"You'll warm me up." you tease, turning to your side so you can be closer to him.

He welcomes your hands on his chest as they get underneath his hoodie, feeling his hot and naked skin there. How can he be so warm when you're close to freezing? His toned abs are hard to miss and you wish you could just take his hoodie off, and see the piece of art. You've never been totally mesmerized by abs and muscular bodies, although it's a nice thing to look at. But everything changes when it comes to Jungkook. He's perfect, an amazing piece of man that makes every woman's heart flutter.

"You bet." he teases back, causing you to giggle as he pulls you closer, kissing you this time.

Your lips mold together, the feeling already familiar but never boring. It's something you could never get enough of, especially when he's so good at it. Two minutes of constant kissing and innocent touches, his own hands disappear underneath all the layers of your clothing when he finally finds your skin. Even the littlest touch of his fingertips make your body heat up, and you completely forget about the cold. He spends a few minutes just rubbing your stomach, his touch leaving soft and tingling sensation all over your body, before he hooks them under the hem of your sweatpants. Detaching your lips, you breathe out a shaky breath as you glance at Jungkook.

He's staring at you, dark eyes boring into yours while his hands disappear into your panties.

"Kook," you breathe out, "Guys are here."

And Seulgi, Minjae and Kiko too.

"They're all sleeping," he says, finger circling your clit as you bite into your lower lip to prevent yourself from moaning. "I checked when I went to take a piss."

Snorting, you let out a chuckle of disbelief. "Wow, that's so hot. Thank you." you tell him sarcastically, your words dying down when he starts to part your folds and slips one finger in.

"I'm honest," he tells you lightly, shrugging as if he's not fingering you right now. He pumps his finger, nuzzling his face to your neck as he starts sucking your skin there. "You love when I'm honest."

"Mhm," you moan, back slightly arching when his finger rubs against your sensitive spot.

"You love when I do this," he purrs against your skin, adding another finger as he curls them inside your tight hole that makes you whimper.

Goosebumps appear all over your body, your hips slowly grinding against his palm as he keeps pumping his fingers in and out. The sound of your wetness is muffled by your clothes, but it's still clear to your ears. It should be embarrassing how wet and hot you became just for him. Yes, the little make out that happened on your walk helped, but you both know it doesn't take a long for him to make you crave for his touch, pleading him for more.

"I do," you let out a choked moan, eyes rolling back when he adds another finger, penetrating your heat even more.

Your walls are wrapped around his fingers, swallowing them in with so much eagerness that makes Jungkook proud.

"You're so needy," he growls, grazing his teeth against your jaw before he kisses it. Your hands clutch onto your sleeping bag desperately, all while he lets out a dark chuckle. "So needy for my touch, for me."

You should be embarrassed because he's right. You tend to act tough, not necessarily in these kinds of scenarios, but still. Even Jungkook knows that and whenever he can stomp on the confidence and tease you, he takes the chance and does it. However, you don't feel an ounce of embarrassment. Agreeing with him, you nod and purr at the same time, body desperately meeting his hands as he picks up the pace.

"I am," you agree, voice strained as you try to control yourself. It feels good, so fucking good, but you don't want to cum just yet. You want to enjoy this for as long as it's possible.

"Oh, baby. You know all you gotta do is tell me and I'll give you everything you want," Jungkook feigns sorrow, knowing those words drive you crazy. He feels you clenching around him, your moans silenced by you biting a lower lip, and that's all he needs to be smirking. "I'd have fuck you against that tree, if you weren't scared someone might see." he whispers darkly into your ear, biting onto your earlobe.

It all happens quick, too quick for you to control it or cherish the way pleasure shoots through your whole body, while you're cumming. Your moans in the form of Jungkook's name are silenced by his mouth enveloping yours. As much as he wants to hear you, his name leaving your mouth repeatedly, he can't let anyone else hear you.

He fucks you through your orgasm, stopping when he hears you whimper from overstimulation. Pulling out his fingers, he puts them into his mouth and makes sure you're watching him when he does that. Your heat throbs, both at the sight and the euphoric feeling of your orgasm, yet you don't have enough. Especially not when you see him licking his fingers clean before he kisses you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue and lips. He growls, hovering over you while his tongue attacks the inside of your mouth. Your tongues dance together, moving swiftly like it's the easiest thing to do. Hands disappearing under his hoodie, you let yourself feel his naked back moving forward to his abs.

He can't help it, you're too irresistible even if it's in a freaking tent and in the middle of mountains with his friends sleeping nearby. Maybe even that small fact makes him go feral, grinding his crotch against you. Getting out of your sleeping bag has never been easier, your hands busy trying to take off Jungkook's sweatpants while he takes off his hoodie, along with his shirt.

"Fuck, I need you." he says, before he kisses you again and helps you to take off your shirt. He's met with your exposed breasts, licking his bottom lip at your puckered nipples which he wraps his mouth around.

The sensation is amazing, his warm mouth warming your whole body all over again and just like that, you feel that same need to fill your pleasure needs. Jungkook's movements are eager, so eager that he tosses his sweatpants rather carelessly causing the piece of clothing to bump into the tent's walls. The tent shakes, causing you to giggle as he shushes you by his lips, chuckling into the kiss. He helps you to undress, making sure he heats up your body with his feverish kisses and constant rubbing of your exposed skin.

"Fuck me, Kook." you plead, nails grazing his exposed and muscular back he's flexing while he's hovering over you.

"Oh, I will," he promises, leaning down to kiss your collarbones as he makes up your neck and jaw. "But you need to be quiet, yeah?"

His voice is low, sending another set of shivers down your spine as you gulp, pressing your thighs together.

"I thought everyone's sleeping." you mutter, teasing him with eyes but you don't show it on your face, too focused on him to even lift the corner of your mouth in a smirk.

"They are," he nods, hands disappearing between your bodies as he spreads your legs and cups your heat which is still wet with your cum and another arousal. You're soaking wet, you can feel it slowly trailing down your ass and staining the unzipped sleeping bag underneath you. "But we don't wanna wake them up." he smirks, his eyes dancing in amusement almost as he's teasing you for being loud.

Oh, he certainly is. As soon as realization hits your face, he smirks even more while pulling away. Your eyes drop to his covered crotch, noticing an evident bulge that's growing with each passing minute. Unfortunately, your sight is dismissed when Jungkook starts to rummage through his bag that he put in the corner of your tent. He pulls out his wallet before he successfully gets the condom. When he turns around and meets your gaze, he sees your raised brow.

"You brought condoms?" you question, wondering if he planned on having sex here.

You sure didn't, not that you're complaining. But you're curious and you love to tease him whenever you get the chance. His doe eyes that were darkened just a few moments ago are completely switched to a wide eyed Jungkook, making look so innocent and young that it makes your heart jump.

"Well, not purposely. I always have them in my wallet." he explains, voice sounding soft all of a sudden.

His lips are set into a slight pout as he stares at you, looking wary for some reason. Little do you know it's because of the exact thing you're teasing him about. He worries that he just planned on having sex, even though there wouldn't be anything wrong with that. You both agreed on this, you two fucking. But still, it doesn't sit well with him knowing you might think he planned this. You're a beautiful woman, it doesn't take long for him to resist you. But you're his best friend before you're someone who he has sex with. He really wanted this trip to be about adventure and great memories, and he kind of let it go naturally. Whatever feels comfortable for you and everyone else. He definitely didn't expect Kiko to show up here, even though this exact topic occurred his night thoughts that made him wide awake for the most of the night.

"It's okay, Kook," you giggle, sitting up as you reach for him. "I'm just teasing you." you assure him, seeing his tensed muscles relax before he scoffs.

"Screw you." he murmurs, grinning as he opens the wrapper by opening it with his teeth while his other hand is too busy pulling his length out.

Taking off his boxers, your mouth salivate wishing you could see him instead of being met with his outline. Judging by the way his hands move and body rustles against the blankets, you know he's giving himself a few pumps before he puts the condom on.

"You're about to." you fill the silence, smirk audible in your voice as he chuckles and gets closer to you.

Adjusting your positions, so he's nestled between your legs, he gives you a kiss and lets his mouth stay on yours while he slowly fills you up. You know it's his way of shushing you, knowing you'd most likely whimper at the sudden stretch of his hardened length. The both of you are trying not to get caught after all. When he's all in, he detaches your lips as he leans his forehead against yours waiting for your signal. As soon as he registers the small nod and little 'go on', he pulls out slowly before he smashes in his way back. With each thrust he makes, the harder it gets to control your moans and even though you've never been that awfully loud, no matter how many times Jungkook teases you about it.

Your legs starts to hurt from the missionary position and with a quick squeeze of his bicep, Jungkook slows down and questionably tilts his head. Without saying a word, your palms sprawl against his chest as you push him while sitting up. He gets the message, laying down immediately while he slips out of you in the process. Hovering over him, you let your legs to rest against his side while you grab his length. Pumping him, you wish you could see that lustful glint in his eyes and the vulnerability that he doesn't show that often:

"Baby," he moans, hands gripping your hips.

Chuckling, you position him against your entrance before you sink down onto him, your eyes rolling back at the pleasure and stretch.

"Fuck, so tight." he groans, nails digging into your skin the entire time he fills you up. He doesn't stop even when you start to ride him, setting up a slower pace that makes less sounds. Nevertheless, the sound of your thighs meeting Jungkook's can't be manageable and it's clear to your ears.

With Jungkook's help, he starts to roll his hips into yours as he meets your thrusts, sending another wave of pleasure through your body with different intensity. It feels amazing, his length so deep inside of you, all while he keeps hitting your g-spot. Slowing down, you circle your hips as you kiss him. You really want to savor every minute and feeling he makes you feel, you don't want to cum just yet. Jungkook is in no rush, kissing you back slowly as he lets you take control. He lays there, enjoying the way you move your hips. After kissing for a few minutes, you start to pick up your pace which becomes tougher, considering how long you've been in this position. Your thighs already ache from the stretch, but thanks to Jungkook who notices your struggle, he starts to meet your thrusts like he's done before.

Everything is slow, yet sensual and intense. It makes your head spin and your heart swell with foreign and wonderful feeling. You can't go all wild, knowing there's everyone just a few meters away from you while you're surrounded in complete silence. But even without this little fact, it still feels right. Maybe it's because you're both lazy and sleepy, just wanting to enjoy the pleasure and something different. If you knew better, you'd say this is how making love feels like.

You almost slap yourself at that, knowing you're nowhere emotionally near that. But it feels nice to have him this close, it's different from the sex you had before.

Considering you've had an orgasm and your walls are still sensitive, you feel yourself tightening as your arms fail you and you fall onto Jungkook's chest. He takes over, still laying underneath you as he grabs your hips and starts to pick up the pace. Even from his submissive position, you may say, he's able to take control and hit all the right spots within your walls. Hands gripping your ass, he spreads your ass cheeks while his nails dig into your skin again. It's the first time tonight when it feels, what can be considered, as a rough move.

"Kook," you whimper, mouth pressed against his shoulder with eyes screwed shut, as you feel another orgasm approaching you.

"Shhh," he reminds you, letting out a grunt when he sets an almost animalistic pace. His balls smack against your ass, the sound already too loud to be heard outside, but you don't stop.

Pleasure washes you all over again, your mouth ready to leave the loudest moan as your whole body shakes. What you do comes naturally, in the desperation to silence your moans, and you gently bite onto Jungkook's shoulder while he keeps fucking you.

He grunts, your teeth digging into his skin although, it's nothing unbearable or too painful, but it shocks him. Few more pumps and he's coming into the condom with a silenced growl. His thrusts get sloppier with each second, before he completely stops and his length starts to twitch. You wish you could feel him cumming inside of you, despite the littlest feeling of him filling the condom, it's nothing too recognizable. When he's done, he sighs and drops his head down while he hugs you closer to him. His arms leave your ass and they wrap around your frame, gripping you tightly making you giggle.

"Fuck, that was amazing." you comment, pecking his shoulder where you bit him. It's too dark to see if there's any mark, but you hope not. You made sure you weren't biting him too hard.

"Yeah," he breathes, chest heaving with harsh breaths while his length starts to soften. "That was... different." he chuckles, hands gently caressing your back that makes you hum.

"I could fall asleep like this." you murmur against his neck, cuddling to him even more.

A soft chuckle leaves his mouth, his hand gently slapping your ass. "No, you can't sleep now. You gotta pee and put some clothes on, you're gonna get cold like this."

He's right, now that your lust has been fulfilled, you can already feel the real temperature in the tent. Your skin is no longer hot and that same rush of heat that came with each moment of pleasure is gone. Even though your body still tingles from the intense orgasm, it's just not enough to keep you warm anymore.

"Nooo," you whine, cuddling to him even more while your perked nipples rub against his chest. He bites his lower lip, cringing when his length slips out of you and you whine again. "Can't you just cover our bodies?"

You try, knowing you're just teasing him and you'll be shivering any minute. Jungkook groans at your stubbornness and you smile.

"No, now come on. Go pee." he slaps your ass again, making you jerk as you pull yourself up and stare at him.

"What if something's out there?" you ask, simply out of curiosity and maybe out of fear as well.

"I'm going with you, big baby," he grins, rolling his eyes at you that you can't see. He's sitting up, hoisting your bodies in the process. "But we need to put some clothes on."

Sighing, you put your clothes back on, cringing when your juices meet the material of your panties. Regardless of that, you fully dress yourself and let out a hum of content when you're warm again. Jungkook does the same thing, disposing himself of the condom full of his cum as he makes sure he'll throw it somewhere safe. You're both stumbling out of your tent, seeing there's no one awake and there's complete darkness around you. Good.

But still, when Jungkook lights up the flashlight on his phone, you're both grinning at yourselves and you just know, you're going to be sleeping heavenly tonight.

#networkbangtan #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #jungkook fic #personasintro #mutual help

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biteofcherry · 11 months

Note

Hi! ALPHA STEVEEEEE oh my actual days. i have an unhealthy attachement to GoT. If his omega was feeling insecure how would he react? I feel like he would be completely flabbergasted and considering how she is very much independent she might not tell him at first. but if he found out...

A study

alpha!Steve Rogers x omega female reader

warnings: none; fluffy hurt/comfort; alpha has unique ways of improving your mood; but there's also understanding and communication; alpha Steve is a warning okay?

Grain of Truth Masterlist

Main Masterlist

"I guess this one could work," you shrugged, watching yourself in the mirror with growing resentment.

Your words reached Steve with quite a delay. He was staring at you, his mind occupied with images of ripping the fabric off of your body to get his hands on the magnificence of your curves and softness.

You looked absolutely fantastic in that dress - and it wasn't even some revealing, super sexy evening gown, but rather a chic, modest piece. Perfect for attending a conference.

And when you first saw that dress on the display as you passed the shop, you seemed to love it. How could it change so quickly?

Steve's gaze dragged up your body until he met your eyes in the mirror.

It was the very first time you showed annoyance with your looks, even if occasionally you fussed about not fitting into your favorite clothes right before the heat, because your body was accumulating fat to survive days of endless fucking.

"What is it?" Steve's brows furrowed as he took a step closer and you felt the warmth of his body at your back.

His hands slipped onto your hips and he rested his chin on top of your head as he held your gaze in the reflection.

"Nothing," you shrugged again, instinctively leaning into your alpha's embrace. "It's a good dress, but it doesn't really matter, right?"

Steve sensed that clearly it did matter, so he waited patiently for you to elaborate.

"I just have one meaningless presentation, nobody will pay attention to it beside just politely listening and clapping after I'm done." You tried to play it cool, like it didn't bother you that there was going to be a different star at the conference.

"Unlike Hope," you muttered, your tone more bitter than you wanted to let on.

Hope was- not exactly a friend, but not an enemy either.

You went to the same university, shared some mutual friends and occasionally worked on the same projects before graduation. Then you pursued your career goals while Hope went on to rock the world with everything that she had.

She was stunning, always had a line of men and women trailing behind her with dreams of spending time with her. She had a brilliant mind, too. Honestly, she had it all, in your opinion.

Including the freedom of not being driven by designation and hormones, since she was a beta.

As it turned out, Hope now had not one but three degrees and steered her career toward medical science for the military purposes. You were proud of how you were actually helping people day to day, running your small research, but it suddenly felt less significant compared to Hope's straight road to saving the world.

When you stumbled into her an hour ago, your brief, quite warm conversation revealed she was going to be the mysterious grand star at the conference you were also attending.

And she too was searching for an outfit. Judging by the label on the bag she was carrying, Hope was going to have something designer. Perhaps even custom fitted.

Then it turned out Steve was familiar with one of her projects; he saw it used in action when back in the military.

They switched feedback and information about Hope's upgrades so flawlessly and passionately, and you just stood there with a smile, nodding your head in pretend-interest.

Hope had it all. Still. Just like she had in uni.

Including attention of your mate.

You knew Steve loved you, you didn't fear him leaving you to chase anyone else. But love didn't mean he was impressed, or interested in your meager career.

The only profit you'd gain from presenting your study at the conference would be Maria's proud face as she added to your clinic's website information about running research acknowledged at international conferences.

"Hope?" One of Steve's eyebrows quirked up, confusion settling on his face. "That beta we ran into?"

"Yes, that beta whose great improvements to the battlefield medicine-" you mocked Steve's voice- "you were complimenting less than an hour ago," you glared at him, barely stopping yourself from stomping on his foot.

"Sweet brat," Steve's hands tightened their grip on your hips, an almost painful reminder to watch your tone.

"I was a Captain in the Army and sometimes on missions things got really bad. I simply appreciate that Hope's projects helped to save lives of some of my men."

"I know her work is important." You grit out, crossing your arms over your chest. "Which is why I know everyone will look forward to her presentation and discussion panel with her. So I don't need to bother stressing over my showing."

Steve recited the full title of your presentation and research, showing you he was always paying attention to what was important to you.

"Hope's work may be desired by the big, important institutions," he said, "but it's your research that has the potential of aiding people nationally, in their day to day struggles."

Your heart melted at the conviction in Steve's voice. Through the bond you sensed a steady rhythm and a flush of fiery pride that your alpha felt about your work.

"And you know what else?" Steve bent down a little, resting his chin in the crook of your neck, his lips brushing your cheek.

"Hope has nothing beyond her career. Beneath the smell of perfume, there's only the scent of the lab on her. No partner, neither long term nor a fuckbuddy. No remnants of anyone familiar, like a friend or a pet."

"Maybe she chose it that way," Steve mused, rubbing soothing circles on your hips with his thumbs, "or maybe she spends the rest of her day being as fussy as you, feeling bitter that she doesn't have a mate and love like you."

You sighed softly, uncrossing your arms. You rested your hands atop Steve's forearms, caressing his warm skin.

You tilted your head slightly as your placated insecurities slowly retreated, living room to the mentioned fussy streak. That still wasn't entirely gone, strumming inside you with a need to act out.

"So you were checking her scent?" It was a deliberate poke, delivered with a glare.

Steve huffed and closed his eyes for a second. Then he straightened and in one swift move twirled you around.

He pushed you back against the mirror, gripping the back of your neck with one of his large hands.

"If you're sporting for a spanking until you sob all your frustration and insecurities out, I will happily arrange it." His voice remained soft, but dropped to that low octave a breath away from a growl.

"Or maybe we can make you more excited on that stage?" You gulped nervously as Steve's eyes darkened.

His lips trailed along your jaw, teeth just barely grazing your skin.

"You'll be giving your lecture wearing nothing but that pretty dress, while I sit in the first row with your panties in my pocket. Knowing that as soon as you're done with your presentation, I'm going to be fucking you full of my cum..."

Steve nipped your chin in reprimand when your eyes closed, the sting making you open them instantly.

"So that when you do the rounds at the banquet later that beta you're jealous off knows that you've won something she'll never have. A true mate."

Your clamped your hands on Steve's shoulders, gripping the fabric of his too tight t-shirt.

"You can't solve everything with sex, you know," you said breathlessly, clenching your thighs as you felt Steve's free hand slide up the pencil skirt of the dress you were trying on.

"How about we conduct a longitudinal study on that?" Steve chuckled and slapped your thigh.

#steve rogers x reader #alpha!steve rogers #alpha!steve rogrs x omega female reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #alpha steve rogers x omega female reader #a/b/o dynamics #grain of truth #my writing

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fairydares · 23 days

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loook i get why the idea of riding the "anti/pro" fandom disk horse makes people gag a little in their mouth and try to opt out entirely, but here's why i went from feeling exactly the same way to taking a firm profiction stance. I've been meaning to make this post for a while.

~10 years ago, I posted a fic for the first time and it got its own harassment campaign. The fic wasn't even sexual, and wasn't going to be (it remains incomplete). It was accurately rated T on fanfiction.net. Anyone in the Fairy Tail fandom will understand this: I literally got harassed for writing a "Lucy leaves the guild" fic💀.

After many nice comments, someone left a pretty nasty one. Hurt, I messaged them back. They acted super attacked that I'd responded (lmao) and after we argued, threatened to "rip my shitty story apart in the comments section" if I responded again. I told them "go ahead lol."

They went ahead.

Now know that it was a relatively small harassment campaign, but at the time, it was devastating. Right around then, I wound up in the hospital. After I got out, I went to excitedly check my fic, and found several reviews saying things I wouldn't repeat to my worst enemy. I was suicide-baited more than once, told "thank fuck you finally abandoned this shitty story, dumb cunt," stuff like that.

There were several accounts involved, and I can't say for sure, but I suspect at least a couple different people were involved, though probably at least half of it was one person.

All the other comments were screeching about how I hadn't updated, mostly. "NO UPDAAATEE WHY DOES THIS ALWAYS HAPPENS TO MEEEE??!!!" was one that stood out after I'd been miserable in a hospital for an extended period of time.

Idk what people think is going on when FT fic authors write this trope, and frankly I don't give a fuck. Because while I was partly writing the story out of some young, cringe feminist rage, I also did genuinely have a real story I was compelled to tell. I was inspired by another, popular fic I loved which used the trope to talk about how trying to shoulder our burdens alone really just hurts both ourselves and everyone who cares about us.

My own story was ultimately going to have similar themes, with more focus on strength, what it means, and in what contexts earning and having it actually matters. In retrospect, no wonder I wound up in hot water, because at the time "Lucy vs. Strength vs. Misogyny" was the FT fandom's Designated Nonsensically Activist Debate™. But that's partly why i wanted to write about it; engaging with the fandom had gotten me thinking about it 🤷‍♂️

Not too long after that, FFNet oh-so-benevolently granted us the ability to delete comments from our own stories (they never took my reports seriously at all, afaik). I deleted all or most of the harassers' comments (may still be a one or two up, and i'm fairly sure there's a couple comments defending my fic from the harassment) without saving screenshots, which I really regret now. I was just so mortified and full of self-loathing about the whole thing that i wanted to forget it completely. Something that had brought me joy at a very lonely, vulnerable period of my life had turned so negative, and i couldn't even tell the people closest to me about it without being made fun of for writing anime fan fiction.

I didn't understand why this happened at the time, but--after a period of trying to forget/bid out of it all with a slight anti lean (a common approach I see people use, and one which I'm not proud of adopting)--I just had to figure out What the Fuck Even Happened There. And I'm telling you, after years of reflecting, wrestling with both sides, and educating myself, that this "status quo of harassment" culture which pervades fandom goes way deeper than you think and comes out of a way darker well than you probably realize. An astonishing amount of this is, quite literally, TERF shit and evangelical shit.

Trying to be in fandom and take a stance of, "Anti/Pro shit? Ew, I'm Not Touching that," is like swimming in a heavily polluted river and being like, "Poison? Cringe. Not me lol."

You might be lucky enough to be in a less-polluted part of the river (AKA a relatively non-toxic fandom, in which case good for you!)...but tbh this rhetoric and peer-signalling will still seep in.

I can't stress enough that pro-fiction, AKA "proship", is the normal, leftist-about-art-and-sex opinion. Pro-ship is against all the horrible things you're against; in fact, pro-ship isn't trivializing real trauma by equating it with fictional trauma, or trying to apply literal evangelical/radfem solutions--which are proven not to prevent or help. Profiction/proship is literally just saying, "Fiction is fiction, reality is reality, and the two don't have a 1:1 relationship. And historically, trying to censor just things we've decided are bad has done nothing but get LGBTQ+ and POCs censored. Therefore, depictions of illegal things shouldn't be censored." That's it. "Proshippers all ship problematic ships," is a brazen lie. Many of them share other fans' disgust for those ships, they just don't believe in censoring fic authors over it.

It is also taking a stand against harassment because--and I hope my own story has helped drive this home--as with all groups who adopt ingroup/outgroup thinking, antis are defined by their tactics, not actual stances on real, serious issues. What happened to me was absolutely a result of anti, "it's okay to 'bully out' anything I just don't like" mindset pervading fandom. In a way, this was the mindset's final form. They didn't even feel the need to cite a reason the trope was "bad" or "wrong"; it annoyed them, and they viewed their own feelings as a valid enough pathway for policing to go right ahead and do so.

In the interest of offering solutions instead of just bitching about problems, I might make a "how to know if you've bought into these types of views"-type post sometime. Also might come back to this and provide some sources/citation.

#cw harassment #tw suicide-baiting #tw hospitalization #posts i actually wrote #fairy tail #nalu #fandom #fandom meta #proship #pro fiction #anti-censorship

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thisisthinprivilege · 10 months

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How can I overcome internalized fatphobia? How can I not hate what I look like when I'm fat?

This is going to be a different process for everyone, so I'm not sure what will work for you. I will let you know what worked for me, and hopefully you find it helpful.

Deprogramming Step One: Coming to grips with having been programmed in the first place. Beauty standards change from age to age, they are not inborn as far as our research is able to conclude. There's perhaps a weak preference for facial symmetry, but that's about it. Weight-based beauty standards have not only varied wildly through human history, they vary in our very own era, between-cultures. Often what we believe we find beautiful has been programmed into us from a very early age. There's no conspiracy, it's simply how cultural preferences are transmitted within-culture: through the adults we look up to, media, and reinforced by peers. That's not to say deprogramming is a simple matter. It's very difficult. I wonder now, almost 15 years after starting my own journey to deprogram myself, whether who I find beautiful or attractive is rooted in beauty standards I saw reflected as a kid or teen.

Deprogramming Step Two: Define and avoid thin-centric messaging. A big part of this for me was controlling the media I consumed. I unsubscribed to cable, for instance, because of the intrusive and omnipresent weight loss ads. That was 15 years ago, but it's surprising how similar some streaming services/channels are in terms of ad length and intrusiveness these days. Unfortunately, tiktoks/reels aren't entirely controllable. Even though I don't consume weight loss or diet content, weight loss/diet tiktoks/reels pop up occasionally. Besides ads, you should also consider whether your magazines, books, movies, and shows over-focus on the stories of thin people, or demonize fat people. Obviously, stop watching exploitative shows that turn the lives of fat people into sideshows or sob stories. More controversially, you might want to temporarily unsubscribe or mute fat activist content. Fat activism is a highly stressful space where we confront the hatred of fat people explicitly. It's not great for deprogramming thin-centric messaging, because fat activists will be talking about thin-centric messaging from a critical perspective. Take a break, for a while.

Deprogramming Step Three: Exposure to fat-positive content. This is the fun part of the process, where you get a chance to rewrite the aesthetic coding in your brain! I suggest searching out fat models who wear the kind of clothing you like, fat role models who share your interests, fat positive videos showcasing fat people doing amazing things, fat positive art, fat positive fiction and movies, and so on. Fatshion is full of fat positivity. Be wary of "body positive" content, as it can still be subtly or explicitly fatphobic. I warn you, after a few months of exposure to a different aesthetic, thin-centric media is gonna look hella strange. You'll go to see some romcom-flavor-of-the-month movie and be like, "Where are all the fat people? Why is everyone super skinny?"

Deprogramming Step Four: From theory to practice. This step is about starting to wear the clothes you want to wear, being loud and proud to exist as a fat person in public, being romantically bolder if romance is your thing, being more assertive and confident in your body, traveling to the places you've always wanted to go, doing things you were holding back doing before, etc. You may need to dwell in Step Three for a while, or revisit it over and again, in order to complete Step Four. This doesn't mean becoming an activist. This means becoming your authentic self without fat-related qualms. Yes, you will still be constrained by the greater world around you. Traveling, going out to eat, dating, interviewing for jobs, even going to a fucking concert will present constraints and bigotries that smaller people (everything else held equal) don't have to face. But you can now see them as constraints placed on you, not as constraints you place on yourself or that are in any way deserved. Hopefully, you will be able to face them without it destroying your sense of self-worth.

Deprogramming Step Five: The authentic self...? We know that as fat people we are not morally or otherwise inferior to thin(ner) people. So what does it mean to leave our best and most authentic lives, as fat people? This is the human question, that all humans share with each other equally. We are connected to each other, each on our own grand journey to answer this question. When you are able to separate the sociocultural difficulty of being a fat person in a fat-hating society from your own life journey, you have one less barrier to manage in answering the great human question. At this stage, you'll feel calm and comfortable in your body, and surprised when people point out your fatness or treat you differently for it. They're distracted by false moral categories, while you have better things to do. Does anyone ever permanently dwell in this stage? Probably not. But I feel like this most of the time, now. It takes a lot to drag me back into the world where one of the worst things you can call another human is "fatty." I've got books to read and write, math to learn, art to create. A life to live, where my possibilities are not defined by the size of my body.

-ArteToLife

#thin privilege #thin-centric society #deprogramming fat hatred #fat positivity #fat acceptance #fat activism #tips for overcoming fatphobia

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shakespeareinnit · 3 months

Text

9 february 2024 》 "Wanting to be someone else is a waste of the person you are." - Kurt Cobain

(I cannot find any evidence whatsoever that Kurt actually ever said this, but a pretty great quote 🤷‍♀️)

Starting to fall into a bit of a rhythm now, which is really great. I'm so proud of myself! Getting up at 8 in the morning no matter what has been so great for me. Even if I was up all night and I am shattered, it's one of my new non-negotiable morning habits. I make myself a cup of tea and even if I go back to bed, at least I gave myself the chance to start the day at a reasonable time! 💕

I keep tackling basic, but very anxiety-inducing things in life (like doctor's appointments, ugh) and with each one, I prove myself I am capable. Been really good this week especially at not getting discouraged by setbacks (like not going to lectures, rotting in bed all day or staying up until 6am). I really need to get on my sleep-schedule next, but I am trying not to overwhelm myself, so we're being gentle about it.

I need to get in my sleep until I can anyway, because assignment deadlines for this semester are coming up, and I am also going back to work in less than a month. Goodbye off-season, you were good while you lasted 💔 I do miss flying though (and getting paid asdffghh) even if I've been super anxious about going back to work. New roster is out though and the crew on my first flight back is fab, which is a great relief! ✈️

I'm still not as caught up on uni work as I'd like to be - and I really desperately need to email some people about uncompleted work from the previous semester 😬 - but we are slowly getting there. Yay!

Little treats after completing tasks is the way to go! I forgot how much I love the rocky road slices they have at all the different cafés around uni 🍫 Plus, been reading Abigail Roux & Madeleine Urban's Cut and Run series again for the hundredth time, and it's making me very nostalgic. I first read the books when I was 16, and today, reading a rather steamy scene in the uni library, brought back a very vivid memory of me reading probably the exact same scene on a school library computer while I should have been working on history coursework. 😅 That was 10 years ago! Insane. Anyway, I always always come back to these books. The rubbish ebook formatting can be very frustrating, and the storytelling is somewhat chaotic occasionally, especially in the first book, but, god, I adore Ty and Zane so much. Bisexual FBI agents enemies-to-soulmates wholesomeness is exactly what I need in my life right now. 🩷💜💙

#mine #studyblr #uni diaries #studyspiration #bullet journal #bujo #university #study motivation #student life #studyspo #study blog

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starphasedd · 1 year

Text

Egon

(Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader)

Rating: 18 + for violence and explicit smut.

Synopsis: A small confession leads to something completely unexpected.

Notes: As promised!! I'm super proud of this guys! I think I captured Simon quite nicely. I am new to the fandom, and still reading lore. Feel free to correct me on anything you see wrong. Egon is actually the codename for my OC Ema 'Egon' Swann. This fic started with her, but as to not be selfish, I made it more inclusive by changing it to the reader perspective! I hope you enjoy!!

Word count: 8k+

AO3

Egon.

German, by nature. Meaning "strong with the wind"

That was the nickname the men of task force 141 gave you.

They had many reasons for this name. You were fast–agile on your feet. Small and clean. It was hard for any enemy to catch you, or even see you coming. You were strong too, for a woman of your size. You could easily take down a man twice your size with the techniques you studied and used over the years. But their main reason for giving you this nickname was for your sharpshooter skills. No matter the conditions, you always made your shot. Rain, thunder, wind. You never missed. No outlying factor kept you from doing your job.

That's what gained you the respect of task force 141.

You've known these men for a while, having been asked to join the team just over two years ago. In that time, you got to learn the boys well. All of them respected you and treated you as their equal–something you worked so hard for. Being a woman in this field of work is challenging, even for some of the strongest ladies you know. That didn't stop you from doing your job–which impressed Price when he worked with you on a mission before he asked you to join the team.

It was a mission in New York City, where you were a part of the NYPD task force. The lead was mafia related and Price's team was called in to assist. Your captain at the time knew it was a risky job, and he needed devoted and dangerous men to help him take their leader down. You along with a couple of your own comrades fought side-by-side task force 141 and pushed through a successful mission.

Everything after that is history. You left with Price and his team, never looking back.

These men are your family now, and you love every single one of them in your own way. Price and Gaz keep to themselves most of the time– Soap is the one you'd definitely call 'brother'. You and him have the best dynamic. He's goofy and chill, and you adore that about him. Inherently with him comes his Lieutenant, Ghost. A man you haven't really been able to get a read on since you met him those couple years ago. Yes, of course, it's mainly to do with the fact that he wears that damn mask twenty-four-seven. But he also isn't the most personable guy. He speaks when he needs to, and fights when he has to--but he hasn't really gone out of his way to get to know you–even though you and Soap are practically attached at the hip.

Being close to Soap means he typically picks you to go along with him and Ghost on missions. Which you don't mind. When the three of you get split up, the commlink keeps you all close, figuratively.

One of the things you and Soap bonded over was your mutual adoration of music. You didn't have the best childhood, and music was your escape. It appeared Soap used music to his comfort as well. So, when you're on missions but split apart, Soap keeps in your ear either spatting off random lyrics of songs, or requesting you sing to him. Much to Ghost's dismay–who has to listen to you two banter about why you don't like country music, or why Soap can remember so many random lyrics. Ghost keeps quiet, and you wonder if you get on his nerves. He's the type of guy to speak his mind and the fact that he hasn't said anything yet suggests he may…be okay with it? Who knows with that man.

Ghost keeps close, but far away at the same time. He treated you like an equal, and always made sure he had your six. The same thing goes for you. Granted, the giant, pure muscle of a man never really needed your help. You were always there for him. Over time, he seemed to soften on you. He would use your real name on occasion. He got worried sometimes when you didn't answer his comms right away and would scold you once you were all back together.

'Fuck woman, answer the bloody comms when your superior asks for your status.' He would gruff in that deep British baritone.

You would never admit it, but something about that man set your body on fire. His size, his voice, his attitude. Fuck, his attitude alone. He exudes confidence and experience without being cocky. There's nothing quite like a confident man–a man who knows what he wants and can take it whenever he wants….but doesn’t. He was always looming over your shoulder, watching you intently through the holes in his mask. Soap would comment on it every now and then, making fun of the Lieutenant for not being able to keep his eyes off you for a moment. You didn't think it was that serious–you convinced yourself he was just watching you for your own safety. As any good teammate would.

But then the subtle touches started. You would feel his large hand splaying over your lower back as he walked beside you up the copter ramp, almost as if he was guiding you. Of course it never happened if someone was around to see it—he made sure of it. But it would happen more frequently. They were genuine, and gentle touches. And completely innocent. Being a woman, you had an intuition for men's intentions–since you dealt with them your entire life. Ghost never set any alarms off. You always felt safe with him.

You trusted him with your life, and you hoped he felt the same about you.

He was cold and calculating—mysterious and quiet. Though he showed those small, intimate minstations to you and you alone, you tried not to think too much into it. Ridding yourself of the disappointment before it reared its ugly head. You often thought about what he looked like under that mask. You've seen his eyes countless times. They were brown like freshly ground coffee. He had blonde eyelashes that stuck out amongst the black paint he smeared right there. He had a strong, chiseled jawline. Sometimes you can see a few prominent veins through his mask when he tightens it. His neck is strong and thick, no doubt riddled with scars from his many years slaughtering men.

You imagined what his body looked like too. He's a big man, standing almost an entire foot taller than you. He had thick, broad shoulders and a puffy, muscular chest. Even when he wore one hundred pounds of gear, you could still see how fit he was. His waist was thin and strong, he had a certain swagger when he walked that always caught your eye. His forearms almost looked fat, they were so fucking thick with muscle. He was covered in huge protruding veins on both arms–they were even visible on the arm that was covered in tattoos. And his hands always made you blush. They were twice the size of yours, and you spent many occasions watching his big fingers work the trigger on his guns like a thread. He was nimble, and agile there.

You wondered what they would feel like–if they would grip your throat with delicacy or fierceness. If they would roam down your neck and swallow your breasts in a warm squeeze. If they would trail your curves all the way down to your ass and nead the soft, pillowy flesh there. If they would tease you–circling around that sensitive bundle of nerves until you were weeping for him. If they would pump you, fill and stretch you out until you were ready for his cock. Or would he even give you that decency and instead, take you unprepared in a hot, lustful frenzy?

It's all human nature, you suppose. It's natural for a woman to be sexually attracted to a protector like Ghost. It goes back thousands of years–it's all instinct. That's what you tell yourself after you cum on your hand thinking about your Lieutenant. When that wave of unfiltered shame and guilt rushes over you following your high.

_______

"Egon, how copy?" Comes that familiar gruffy voice.

You jump slightly, shuddering out of your thoughts as you neel against the abandoned brick building. Your rifle in your left hand, fingers tight on the trigger.

"Jesus, Lieutenant–awaiting target. No eyes yet." You grunt out, face heating up in embarrassment. He always knew when to catch you off guard.

"Eyes on the prize, sergeant. Stay focused."

You scoff, eyes rolling as you adjust your stance slightly. It's dark, the only light you have to use coming from old, orange colored lamps hanging from the buildings. To top that off, it's been raining all day so it's doubly hard to see far in the distance. Even with a scope.

"Easy for you to say, Lieutenant. I'm out here freezing my ass off and you're inside a nice warm building." You mumble into the mic.

"Punishment for not listening to your superior."

"Bite me." You retort.

No response. You grin. Any opportunity you get to fight back at the Lieutenant scolding you, you'll take.

A few minutes in silence go by as you wait patiently for your target to come into view. You have a black mask covering the bottom half of your face, leaving only your eyes and forehead exposed. A heavy leather hood covers your hair. Soft pelts of rain dropping keep you focused in the moment. Your tactical boots are worn and wet, holes from misuse letting water in to soak your socks. The harness tied around your waist and thighs is digging into your pants, which are rubbing and chafing your skin. Your back hurts from being on your feet all day, and your head is pounding. You usually get headaches when it rains. You are so fucking ready for this day to be over.

You stay steadfast nonetheless. Eyes focused on the door the target will be coming out of.

A few more minutes go by in silence when you hear the comm start to buzz, indicating someone was about to speak.

"Why can't orphans play baseball?"

You can't help the cheeky grin that creeps its way upon your face.

"Why?" You ask.

"They don't know where home is."

"Ghost," You say with a huff, attempting to hide the laugh trying to claw its way out of your throat. "Shut the fuck up."

"It's inappropriate to speak to your superior that way."

"Sorry, let me rephrase. Shut the fuck up, sir."

"Better."

You grin, holding the butt of your rifle up to your cheek in anticipation. Your finger reaches up and you adjust the scope. You close your left eye and squint your right as you look through the glass. You hadn't realized you never turned off your mic when Ghost crimes in again.

"Control your breathing, Sergeant. It'll help you focus better."

Your breath catches in your throat the moment is deep voice comes through the ear piece. Was the bastard really listening to you breath this whole time? Your tongue slides over your bottom lip, moistening the smooth skin there. You let a long breath come out before slowly breathing back in, reducing your heart rate. With your breath now cool and even, you sink back into the task at hand.

"Atta girl." Ghost whispers in that english accent, his voice sending a wave of chills down your spine.

Your chest pulls tight at his encouraging words, and if you hadn't been so focused on the door in front of you, you may have retorted something flirty back. But just as you were about the touch the communicator, the door in your sights swings open. You pause and hunch down impossibly lower as a tall man, accompanied by three other men stumble out of the building. You're so low now your chest could practically touch your boots. Your back is arched and steady, fingers itching to pull the trigger as you search for the man you have a description of.

The rain is starting to pick up now, thunder rocketing through the air as lightning snaps to the ground in the distance. Your breathing is steady and firm, flowing visible streams in front of your face as the chill in the air makes you shiver.

You're so focused on identifying the target in front of you that you don't hear the footsteps approach you from behind. They're quiet, trained and quick. You lock eyes on the target. A tall, skinny man. He has long, curly blonde hair that flows just past his shoulders. The identifying marker is a scar on the left side of his face. It's long–stretching from the bottom of his jaw all the way up and over his eye. It stops just above his eyebrow.

Rain is starting to smear over the scope lense, making it increasingly difficult to see the taget. After a moment, you lick your lips away, your pointer finger hones down on the trigger and starts to stretch it down. The man across the way reaches down for the door handle on the SVU next to him. You take one final breath in and hold, steady and true. Your finger pulls down, emitting a loud pop in your ear. It's quick, and the target immediately falls to the ground. Not a word, not a sound. Silence as his body hits the cold, wet concrete. The men around him start to panic and pull their guns out, rapidly stomping around in circles to try and spot where the bullet came from.

One turns in your direction. He doesn't see you, but starts running in your direction. You cock back and lift on your feet. You stand to almost your full height, knees slightly bent. You pull the trigger again. The second victim drops to the ground with a loud and painful grunt. At this point, you've given yourself away. Blood rushes through your ears as the two other men start sprinting in your direction. You slowly start to back up, cocking back yet again to let another bullet fly. Bullseye–a direct hit to another man's head. Your focus now remains on the last man standing who has gone into a hiding stance. You stand up fully and start to turn. When you do, you hear the sound of another rifle going off. Blood splatters across your face as a man–whom you had no idea was directly behind you–falls against the brick wall and his lifeless body slides down.

You gasp softly at the sight–having had absolutely no clue the man was behind you getting ready to attack. You look around quickly, trying to locate where the shot came from when Ghost's voice comes through the headset.

"Thought you knew better, sergeant."

Your breathing is heavy as you look up at the building across the street. On the fourth floor, Ghost moves forward to reveal himself through the window. The bone part of his mask almost lights up as he positions his rifle and shoots the last of the men on the street. He looks down at you as he lowers his rifle. His massive body towering in the window. His eyes lock with yours as your chest heaves up and down. The hood on your jacket has fallen now, and rain is starting to soak your hair. It sticks to your cheeks and neck. The water soaks your face.

"Were you watching me?" You ask, slight irritation in your tone.

"Had I not been, you'd be dead."

You scoff, clenching your jaw and rolling your tongue in your mouth as you keep eye contact with him.

"Get down here. Let's go."

Embarrassment was evident in your tone, but you couldn't hide that from Ghost. You couldn't hide anything from a man with his experience. So you gave in and let it out.

Ghost was down in your area within a minute or so, and he approached you slowly.

It was still raining as you and Ghost started walking towards the safe house. It was a small cottage on the outskirts of this shitty little town. Price said there was a shower, and that's all you could ask for. You walk silently next to your superior, who hasn't looked at or spoken to you since he came down from the building. You keep your eyes forward and alert as your heavy boots slush through the wet streets.

"Have you heard from Soap?" You ask softly.

"Affirmative. He's on the other side of the city with Price and Gaz. They're at the other safehouse." He responded in that deep tone.

He's safe. A gentle sigh of relief left your lips as you continued your walk to the safehouse.

The walk there stays silent. With Ghost keeping close to your rear, he almost hovers over you but he's slow. Which is unusual for him. On occasion, you could have sworn you could hear his breathing. It was loud and sounded labored. You raised your voice a little at one point to ask if he was alright and grunted back at you. Something seemed off.

After a couple hours carefully trekking through the nearly flooded city, you made it to the safe house. It was pitch black, away from any city lights to give you away. It was a small, one room cottage. When you opened the door, you cleared the room with your rifle. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough to house the two of you until the morning. There was a small, two person bed, a run-down kitchen and a small, detached bathroom with holes in the door. It was filthy, but you were thankful to be out of the rain. You noticed a small fireplace that seemed clean enough to use.

You turn to Ghost, who is towering behind you. "I'll start a fire. You should try and get a hold of Price and let him know we're okay."

The large man grunted, and turned slowly in the direction on the bed. You watched his feet almost drag the floor. And when he sat down on the edge of the bed, you noticed him trying to conceal the hand that was holding his side.

You watch him for a few moments before turning your attention to the fire. It was starting to get cold. Worry about Ghost later so the both of you don't freeze to death here. Gathering what little kindling and firewood you could find, you begin to light the fire. First you pile in some pieces of wood you found here and there, and then you line the tower with what kindling you could find. Reaching into your soaked chest pocket, you pulled out the lighter you hoped wasn't flooded. And by some miracle, it wasn't. You easily ignited a small fire in the run-down fireplace.

Turning around, you glance over to see Ghost still sitting with his hand on his side. His hulking figure dips the mattress by a good bit.

"Fucking awful communicators." He grunts out before he rips the mic off his head.

"Not able to get a hold of Price, huh?" You say with a soft smile.

He shakes his head slowly. A grunt being his only response, again.

You stand from where you sit, starting to pull your weapons and gear off. Your weapons come first. You gently set the rifle up against the wall, and place your handguns beside them. Knives get stuck in a pile next to the handguns. You reach around to unstrap your vest, pulling it off your shoulders. It drops to the floor with a thud, which grabs Ghost's attention. Once your vest is off, you move to take your harness off. Ghost watches you through half lidded eyes. You prop one leg up on a grate for better access to the straps that trail from your waist, all the way down to your feet. Starting with the foot strap, you unclip the buckle. Your hands slide up your calves to your thighs, where the second set of straps dig into the skin there.

You quickly make way with those buckles and pull them down your legs. The last strap around your waist is easy. You stand and unclip the last buckle and let that strap fall to your feet. A relieved sigh leaves your lips as you turn to walk towards Ghost. He was still watching you, his hand holding his side. He hasn't moved–still sitting there uncomfortably, no doubt, in his full gear. You approach him slowly, hands hugging your hips as you test these waters.

"Let me see." You say gently as you stop directly in front of him. He's so big that he's still eye height with you, even sitting down.

"I'm fine." He grunts.

"Sir–"

"I said I'm fine. Tend to your own." He says.

"I just want to help, sir. "

He glances up at you through his mask. You're standing close–so close he can feel the heat radiating off your body. His eyes meet your face, his hand still hovering over the wound on his side.

"Do you trust me?" You ask gently.

He seems hesitant, no doubt unsure what he wants to do. But after a few moments of watching you, he lets the hand on his side slowly drop to his thigh. He breathes out slowly.

"Yes."

You take this moment to be bold for the first time with him. You suck a breath in and hold, slowly reaching forward and gliding your hands over his shoulders. They fall down his back to unstrap the back of his weapons vest. Your eyes bounce back and forth between his as your chest presses softly to the pack on the front of his body. You pull the straps up over his shoulders and let the best slide down his front, pulling it off and gently setting it down on the floor by his feet. Next, your nimble fingers work at the zipper on his jacket–pulling down until it unclips at the bottom. You run your hands over his shoulders again to pull the rain jacket off–setting it on the mattress next to him.

He looks bigger this way, which should be impossible. You just took eighty pounds of gear off his body but even now, in just his black pull-over hoodie and rain jacket, he looks bigger. His muscles are more defined. You can see the bulge of his strong pecs, the roundness of his arms.

You stand up to look at him once again.

"May I?" You ask softly.

He doesn't speak, but nods slowly.

You mind his permission and slowly grab the bottom of his hoodie, pulling it up and over his chest. What reveals is a nasty stab wound–about three inches long. Blood trails all the way down to his jeans. Most of it is dry, but some warm blood indicates it's still bleeding.

"Jesus wept. You were going to leave this unattended?" You ask, glancing up to meet his gaze.

He brings his hand up to hold his hoodie for you. You remove your hand and reach into the first aid kit attached to his utility belt. Pulling it open and starting to look through the supplies.

"I've had worse." He retorts with a snort.

You can't help but smile gently, looking at him through the corner of your eye as you rummage through his bandage pack.

"You're an idiot."

"I'll be sure to remember that when I'm doing your performance review."

"In that case, be sure to remember this. I want a raise." You say with a small laugh as you set some bandages down on his thigh.

"A raise? You can barely do what you're told now. Only good employees get raises." He retorts, you swear you can hear the grin on his mouth.

"I've never been one to respect authority." You say, a cheeky grin meeting his gaze as your hand brings a sanitary wipe to his wound.

"Fuckin' Americans."

You laugh out loud this time, hand gently gliding over his wound–cleaning it with the sanitary wipe. You take notice of his build. He's strong, thick and muscular. He has some chest hair, and some hairs that trail under his jeans. He's incredibly built as well–of course he is. You knew that. He was a huge man, and incredibly strong. There was no doubt in your mind he was sculpted to the heavens. His skin is littered with scars. Some range from as small as your fingernails, to the size of your fist. You wish you could touch them all, to ask their stories. How did he get this one? That one?

The little shack is quiet for a few more minutes as you finish cleaning and treating his wound. You take it slow so as to not cause him any discomfort. Something tells you he really doesn't care, but you do. His eyes watch you through the hole in the skull of his mask. The black eye paint makes his blue hues glow in the moonlight. Rain patters softly against the metal roof. Your hand glides smoothly over the patch you're placing over the stab wound. You flatten your palm to smooth it out as much as possible. His breathing is steady as it fans against your cheek. Your proximity to him right now may have been alarming if you didn't know him well.

He stays still, watching you as he holds the hoodie up over his chest. His gaze brings goosebumps to the back of your neck, making your hairs stand up. You feel the need to break this awkward silence.

"This scar looks like it was painful." You say ever so softly, your free hand coming down to the four inch scar on his abdomen. Your palm flattens and your thumb grazes it gently.

"They were all painful." He says, a hint of tease in his tone. His voice has softened considerably.

"Yeah? I wouldn't have guessed, sir." You say, eyes flashing up to meet his as your mouth pulls into a sweet smile again.

"Simon. No need to be formal when we're alone." He says, followed by your name. It rolled off his tongue with ease–like it was the most natural thing for him to say.

"Right. Simon–" you say softly. You're not pulling apart the last part of the bandage to stick it on top. "--how did you get this one?" You ask, pointing to another scar on one of his pecs.

"In the Military. My first deployment. This was one of the first." He says.

"I remember those days. I was eighteen when I joined the Marine Corp. Got a few scars myself. Though, they're more mental than anything." You say, bringing a hand up to tap the side of your head and smile. "Yours have more meaning behind them, I think."

"Rightfully ugly things." He says, his eyes now following your hands as they work to cover the rest of his wound.

"Not at all–" you say as you stop your movements. Your eyes meet his when he takes notice and lifts his head to see you. "--I find them endearing."

His eyes narrow slightly as he watches you–indicating he's unsure of the meaning behind your statement.

"I mean, they show your growth…as a man. You had to overcome each one of these–" you say as you move to continue wrapping his wound. "--they're all testaments to how strong you are. Mentally and physically. I don't find them ugly in the slightest."

Your hand stops moving as you've finally finished patching his wound. Standing up straight, you bring your eyes back to his. He slowly releases his hoodie to let it drop back down, but his eyes never once leave yours. He almost seems dumbfounded–at a loss for words. He just stares at you for a few moments before speaking.

"I don't understand." He says, almost a whisper.

"What's not to understand?" You ask.

His hands are laying on his thighs, but his fists are clenching and unclenching. He doesn't speak, so you take this chance to elaborate.

"Simon, I don't know much of your past. Well, anything about your past, really–" you say gently, your hands slowly glide up and test the waters, laying on top of his strong shoulders. "--I don't need to. I know the man you are now. Neither of us are perfect. But I do know that you're a good man, who will always have my back. That's all that matters."

His eyes never leave yours as your hands slowly glide over from his shoulders, and up his neck to rest holding his strong jaw.

"And I will always have yours. That's what being a team is all about."

You're holding his jaw gently; you can feel it clenching as he watches you through the skull mask. You're close to him now, closer than you have been. Your hips are slotted between his legs. His fingers reach out and softly graze the outside hem on your jeans–silently asking for permission. You glance down to his hands, before back up to his face and slowly nod.

His large hands come out to flatten against the outside of your thighs, softly squeezing the flesh there as they glide up and over your hips. They rest there, just above your ass. His warmth sends chills down your spine as he pulls you closer, your chest almost touching his. His palms spread against your curves and his thumbs dig into your belly.

"What's on your mind, sergeant?" Ghost asks, his voice barely above a whisper as your face inches closer to his.

You continue holding his jaw, keeping him attentive to you and you alone. Your breath fans over his covered lips. Your thumbs start to rub small circles over the sharp bones under them.

"I often think…" you trail off as your right thumb moves towards the center of his face--finding his bottom lip under the mask and pressing down. "...think about what your smile looks like. I reckon you're quite handsome."

"Is that right?" His voice is low, now laced with something akin to longing.

His hands give your hips a good squeeze, shuffling your lower half closer to his. His thighs trap you in their strength.

"Mhm." You hum softly.

You find yourself being bold again, thumbs leaving his lips to trail down his neck again. You locate the bottom of his mask and slip both thumbs under the hem. You stop momentarily, giving him ample time to stop you. Only, he doesn't. You can feel the moment his muscles tense and you hear his breath hitch. But his eyes never leave you, and neither do his hands. They squeeze you and pull you harder.

As to not betray his trust, your eyes slowly flutter closed. Your thumbs slip under his mask completely and gingerly begin pulling up. You pull it up and over his lips. Along the way, you can feel the defined muscles of his neck–the large veins. His chin and jaw are prickly, most likely from a recent shave. You pull it up to sit just in the tip of his nose. Eager fingers return to his chin, thumb coming back to slide over his lower lip. It's full, and warm. Feels slightly damp, like he had just licked it. His breath is warm on your hand as you continue to feel him here.

Your other fingers stretch to try and feel the back of his head, wanting to know if he has thick or coarse hair. Is it curly or straight? Blonde like his eyelashes or brown?

His hands become impatient and begin sliding up your sides. In the process, he pulls the skin-tight undershirt out from under your pants. Cold air rushes through and touches the little part of your belly exposed. As his digits continue sliding up, they eventually curve out and up both of your arms until they meet at the base of your neck. His fingers dig into the skin there and start to gently pull you forward.

In the shuffle, your hands slide down his chest and come to a rest on top of his biceps. The muscles flex under his hoodie as he pulls you forward. Your eyes stay closed as you feel his breath getting closer and closer to your face.

"Tell me to stop." He whispers. It was hoarse, and deep. Laced with lust.

You breathe out slowly, shaky and anxious.

And when you don't, he kisses you.

To say he just kisses you is a gross understatement to what the both of you start to share. Your entire body lights up, chills shooting down your spine like fireworks as he twists his head to the side and slowly licks your bottom lip. His lips are soft and giving. They flatten when they meet yours to cover as much ground as they can. You open your mouth, giving him full access to that wet cavern. Your mouth meets his again, more heated this time. His tongue slides inside your mouth with ease, shooting to fight and tackle yours in a fight for dominance.

Your fingers start to dig into his biceps, and that elicits a grunt moan from the man kissing you. He continues kissing you, tongue exploring your mouth as his large hands start to slide down your body again. His right hand slides behind you to trace your back, and his left opts to take the front. He stops at your breast–giving it a firm squeeze when he gets it in his grasp. Your nipple hardens under his firm touch, a small whimper getting lost in his mouth as he explores your body. The hand on your back pulls you impossibly closer, pressing your much smaller body tight to his.

He continues his assault on your breast for another minute or so, all while continuing to kiss you with a certain ferocity. His tongue leaves your mouth to lap up the saliva surrounding your lips and you erupt in shivers when the hand squeezing your breast starts to trail lower. He traces your curves until he reaches the metal of your belt buckle. His digits slowly begin to work at the buckle, setting the button on your jeans free once he's worked it open. He kisses you as he pulls the button open, his fingers grabbing hold of the zipper and slowly pulling it down. It feels like it takes him an eternity to work your jeans open, but your body buzzes with excitement when you hear the zipper coming down.

He stops for a moment, continuing to kiss you as his hand rests there on the buckle of your jeans. You slide your hand back up to his shoulders and softly rub the muscles there, pulling a quiet whimper from his lips. Yes, a whimper. From Ghost.

Fuck. If that doesn't get you wet, nothing will. But it does. In that moment, you feel the arousal start to ooze out of your cunt. You may have thought you started your period if you weren't sure it was because of him. You can't help but rub your thighs together when the pressure starts to become uncomfortable. Ghost takes notice of this and pulls away from you. His fingers begin to dance with the hem of your underwear.

"Tell me to stop." He repeats against your lips, still barely above a whisper. You can feel his eyes burning into you, but yours are still closed.

The cool leather of his glove meets with your sensitive skin when you don't answer him. Slowly, achingly slowly, his fingers sink under your underwear to find what he wants so desperately right now.

You whine when the leather touches your sensitive skin there, his fingers sink down through your folds to truly feel where you're warmest. His fingers glide easily through your arousal; the texture of his clove adds a bit more feeling to it.

"Fuck." he curses against your lips as he continues to rub around your needy hole.

He uses his fingers to collect your wetness and drags it up to that swollen bundle of nerves. He uses your own arousal to prepare you. His thumb begins to rub firm circles over your clit, causing you shudder and whimper in his arms. Your eyes squeeze shut harder, face heating up and turning red. Something you never thought he'd see—the freckles on your cheeks being revealed by the change in color on your face. Your fingers dig hard into his shoulders, holding on for what feels like dear life.

It's been a decade since you've been with a man. It's not something you were particularly proud of, because nothing could quite scratch that itch like the touch of a man. But your job kept you busy, and you felt just fine pleasuring yourself. You were always an independent woman. But fuck. Fuck. His touch felt like fire. Like pure bliss. The way he continued to draw tight circles over your clit while his palm flattened on your cunt and two large fingers sunk into your wet heat. They were so big, so strong while they pumped you full. It wasn't long before he found that spot too–the spongy piece of heaven deep inside your core.

Your head tumbles back on your shoulders, mouth falling open silently as his fingers work magic inside you. He leans forward, bringing his lips to your chest where it's open from the u-neck undershirt– peppering kisses on the warm skin there. Your hand involuntarily comes up to caress the back of his head. Such a sweet sentiment he does, while absolutely ruining your brief innocence with his fingers. You whimper and cry for him as he pumps and pumps and pumps.

You let out one harsh breath, followed by a quiet but sweet whimper– and out tumbles his name.

Simon.

That's all it takes to break him. He huffs a hard breath against your chest and kisses the skin one more time before pulling back, taking the hand out of your pants with him.

You gasp at the lack of contact. You almost open your eyes in the shuffle but as if he knew what was going to happen, his hand comes up to cover your eyes.

"Lay down. Now." He orders.

He guides you back a few steps, hand still over your eyes. You feel him stand, and he brings a hand to your shoulder to guide you back towards the mattress. Your legs hit the edge and cause you to fall to your back. His hand leaves your face, but you obediently keep them closed for him. He shuffles a bit before his hands are on you again, slipping your combat boots off one at a time. Then his hands are on your waist, pulling your jeans and underwear down in one swoop. Involuntarily, your hands shoot down to cover your core and you hear him grunt.

"Don't hide from me, sergeant." He says in the deep english tone.

His hands meet yours and wrap around them, slowly pulling them off your weeping cunt. A breath leaves his mouth harshly when you're revealed to him. He kneels instantly, large hands flattening against the inside of your thighs, at the apex of your legs and waist. On each side of where he just had his fingers deep. His hot breath fans against your sex.

"Fucking perfect." He says as he fits himself between your legs. His hands slide from the top, all the way to your calves to pull them up and over his shoulders.

You shudder in anticipation, back arching slightly in presentation. Ghost takes notice.

"Dirty girl." He praises

That's the last thing he says before he dives in. His mouth closes over your swollen clit, tongue circling you in a delicious dance. Your back immediately arches even more, muscles tensing down below. His tongue is smooth as it glides so elegantly over that center of pleasure. He moans into you, drinking the taste of you in. The top half of his face is still covered, only letting the bottom half of his face free so he can eat you out like this.

Your hands desperately search for purchase. They start by clenching the bedsheets, before twitching hard and moving to lay on your tummy. His hands find yours quickly and he presses down, anchoring your much smaller hands under his to your tummy. His fingers thread through yours and give a reassuring squeeze. It's odd. You'd never think of him as the gentle type. But he always seemed to surprise you.

Your hands start to close on his head, holding him still right where you want him. Anxious fingers gripping the mask and holding him down. He moans again, the vile wet sounds of his dirty act echoing through the room as he pulls you closer to an orgasm. His hands hold you steady as he pushes his face in deeper, completely enveloping his face in you. His cock grows achingly hard in his jeans, throbbing to be set free. One of his hands leaves yours to come down and insert two large fingers in yet again.

Something white and hot starts to stir in your lower belly. Like a thread being pulled tight on each end, ready to snap at any given moment. Your cunt starts to clench impossibly tight around Ghost's fingers and he moans into you yet again.

"Atta girl. I can feel it. Give me a good one." He encourages through licks.

Fuck, his voice. The tone and the accent–they do something to you. His voice repeats in the back of your mind as your muscles tense all at once. A hoarse whimper leaves your lips as he nibbles down on your little clit, cunt pulling tight and hot as the thread finally snaps and he gets what he asked for. You cum all over his face, body convulsing from the over stimulation as he continues to suck on you through the pulses. Your fingers lock dead in his mask–you think you can feel his hair. It's thick.

He groans into you, his voice vibrating your lower body as he slows his pace and inevitably decides to take pity on you and stop.

You feel his mouth leave your cunt as you struggle to catch your breath. His hands leave you too. Slightly concerned, you start to sit up. Your eyes are still closed. His hands stop you from standing up.

"Bloody delicious you are, sweet girl."

His hand caresses your jaw, and you hear him fumbling with his belt buckle, followed by the sound of his zipper coming down.

"Open."

Your eyes flutter open and you glance up at him standing tall over you. His mask is pulled back down to conceal his mouth. You lock eyes with him and stare him down as he begins to pull his cock out of his jeans. You keep your eyes on him until he breaks contact for a moment. He glances down towards his cock and then back at you. You take the hint and slowly lower your gaze until you meet his cock in all its glory. He's big–covered in veins. His tip is red and smeared with pre-cum. Gods, you got him this wound up?

"You want this?" He asks.

You don't have to answer him. The lustful look in your eyes as you glance back up at him is enough to make his cock jump. He growls low in his throat.

"Turn around. Bend over."

Not having to be told twice, you do as you're told. You stand and turn so your back is facing him. You bend down, revealing your cunt from behind as you find your place bent over the bed for him. His massive form stalks behind you–like you're his prey. Just waiting to be captured. His macho, mean, attitude has always sent chills down your spine. This situation was no different.

His hand finds your waist, gripping on your side as his other holds his heavy cock up to position it at your entrance. While he rubs the head of his cock through your slick to prepare it, the hand holding your waist moves to the center of your lower back and his palm flattens. He pushes down, forcing you to arch in presentation for him. He curses under his breath. Fucking perfect. Beautiful little cunt.

His heavy boots shuffle closer as the head of his cock begins to breach your tight hole. Your breath catches at the sudden intrusion. The hand on your lower back holds you steady as he starts pushing forward until he's fully sheathed inside you. You let a moan slip when the hand on your back starts to rub up and down you slowly, almost in a comforting manner.

"Fuck." He groans out when he bottoms out.

He starts with deep thrusts, getting your cervix used to the invasion. Your knees begin to buckle. No need to worry though. His hands both move to either side of your waist to hold you up as he begins to thrust a little faster–pulling out farther and re-sheathing himself. His back straightens and his head falls back in pleasure as soft groans come from under the mask. Your moans join him as the wet sounds of your combined arousal fills the room.

You moan sweetly–which teases him. A strong, capable woman like yourself reduced to a whimpering mess under her Lieutenant. It spurs him on and makes him needy.

He starts thrusting at a more harsh pace now. His hips collide with yours as the bed rattles on its old, dilapidated frame. The metal digging into the wooden floor. His hands squeeze your hips tight and he pulls you back onto him in time with his own thrusts.

"Insatiable woman. Drive me mad with this body." He grunts as his hips slam into yours.

"Simon–" you whimper out, cut off by a particularly sharp thrust.

"You--you know what you do to me, woman?" He starts between harsh breaths as he pounds into you. "Can't keep my eyes off you. You're a goddamn distraction–" he continues to moan loudly, not caring if anyone may hear. "--walk around in those tight ass jeans….n'that low cut shirt. You do it on purpose, don't you?"

"M's-sorry sir–" you manage to whimper as he continues to pound into you.

"The fuck you are." He says before another hard thrust. His grunts, leaning forward to grab a fistful of your hair and pull your head back.

The same sensation from earlier starts to boil over again. The thread is pulled tight once more, ready to snap at any given moment as he continues to hammer into the sensitive spot inside you. His breathing is heavy, grunting loudly in your ear as pounds down into you. You start to tighten around him once more and once again, he takes notice right away.

"Already, sweet girl? Can you give me another good one?"

You whimper his name.

"Words."

"Yes." You moan.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Simon."

"Good fucking girl."

He relases your hair and stands up straight, anchoring down on your hips and letting absolutely fucking loose. He starts pounding into you ruthlessly. His hips jackhammering into yours and rendering you speechless. His harsh thrusts steal the air from your lungs. All you can do is lay there, drool like a dog and take his cock the way he needs to give it to you.

Your orgasm snaps through you and burns like wildfire. Your body rocks violently back against his and he groans when you start to clench around him.

This was unlike any experience you've ever had. It was hard for any of your past partners to get you off, period. Ghost just made you cum twice. And violently.

"Fuck. Where do you want it?" He asks.

It takes you a few hard thrusts to try and speak–trying to gain your composure and suck some air back in your lungs to speak.

"In-inside–please–" you manage to moan.

For the first time this evening, his movements falter. He seems unsure as he tries to regain his rhythm.

"That's–no, no I can't….you'll…" he grunts as he continues to rut into you.

"Safe. I-I promise." You whimper out. "Wanna feel you."

"Fuuuuck." He groans out, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chases his release. His hands come up to grab your shoulders, anchoring down as he continues fucking your raw.

"Don't move. Don't fucking move, sweet girl. Gonna--gonna fill you up, make you mine."

"Simon--" you whimper out.

That last whimper is what seems to take him over edge. He groans your name one last time before his hips bottom out again and come to a screeching hault. You feel his cock start to throb before the warmth of his cum begins filling you. He shoots what feel like endless streams of his while juices inside until it starts overflowing and running down your thighs. You lay there on your stomach trying to catch your breath. Not long after, you hear the heaving mess of a man who just rearranged you collapse to his knees behind you. You hear him turn to sit on hid ass, shifting to lean up against the bed.

You lay there exhausted, listening to the sounds of his labored breathing. You're too worn out to move, so you opt to stay where you are. Not even caring what a mess you look like.

After a few minutes you feel yourself beginning to drift off to sleep. The exhaustion is taking over. It gets quiet after a few more minutes and you feel completely relaxed. You're so out of it, you don't notice Ghost getting up from his spot on the floor.

You don't feel him softly cleaning you with one of his extra shirts.

You don't feel him start to re-dress you.

And you don't feel him lay you down on the bed, when he climbs in behind you and wraps his arms around you.

And in the morning, it suprises you when he asks you about your time in the United States Marine Corps.

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty #smut #Egon

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gurugirl · 10 months

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Will you give us a little something else for the stepmom!reader fic? I'm really curious about how you'll go about it. Will it be anything like your stepdad!harry one? I hate/love stepdad!harry. I love reading it (super guilty pleasure) but in reality that man would be trash so I also hate him.

I'm really looking forward to the stepmom one though, as a 30 year old woman I feel like usually we see a lot of Harry being older and dominant but it would be fun to look at this in a different perspective with reader being a little older.

YES - i know what you mean about stepdad!harry. he's kind of trash but that's the whole point in that au. it's mostly about the smut. 😂

But for stepmom!reader it's not going to be like that at all. As a woman I cannot see her being toxic in the way I've written harry as stepdad.

This one will have some background about her marriage and the kind of arrangement she and harry's dad have.

While it's still a completely messed up situation, this one will be softer and there will be some pining a bit. I've got almost 20k words written for it already and I'm actually loving it. Harry meets yn when he's in college and an adult so there's nothing too odd about them being attracted to one another. She's about 7 years old than him. Harry will be a virgin but not for lack of confidence or charm. You'll see.

But I'll give you a little teaser below the cut (1.3k words). Enjoy!

She was in sweat shorts and a tank top and tennis shoes with no makeup. She had wanted to shower and get freshened up a little at least. Before Harry arrived. Though, she wasn’t entirely sure he actually would come on Friday as he said.

But then she laughed at herself worrying so much over how she looked to her stepson. A silly silly girl, she thought to herself. Who cares? Why should she care? She was doing all this for his birthday party anyway. And she was his stepmom.

Looking down at the placement of the dancefloor tiles being installed she allowed her mind to drift to that night at the club. His warm skin, his deep voice. The way he handled her like he knew what he was doing… She hated that she had been allowing those kinds of thoughts to trickle in about him. Hated, hated that two days ago when she had sex with Leo it was Harry she was thinking about.

She felt like a nasty and disgusting woman. A pervert.

In the early afternoon, the landscaper had gone and the garden looked like it was ready to be filled in with hundreds of people ready to party. She was proud of the way it turned out. It all looked great.

But she was hungry. She’d eat then shower. Hopefully before Harry arrived. If he arrived that evening.

The chef’s kitchen had a lovely granite island with unstained walnut and wide plank hardwood floors. The refrigerator was ridiculously large. Opening up the state-of-the-art appliance she peered inside trying to find something quick to eat. She planned on having cheese tortellini later on. Leo was out for the day and told her not to wait up. That he would be back late. Some conference or something. It wasn’t abnormal for him to be gone for hours or days. She enjoyed the quiet and loved to eat simple dishes when he wasn’t around. Things that she craved like macaroni and cheese, frozen fish sticks, or cheesy tortellini, and a bottle of wine.

She settled on yogurt and a double serving of granola as she sat at the island. She just needed an in-between lunch and dinner snack to tide her over.

Just before she scooped her last bite into her mouth she heard footsteps and then his voice, “Anyone home?”

She quickly scrambled off her stool and stood up just as he entered the kitchen. His dark curls were perfectly placed on his head and he wore a colorful Hawaiian-style shirt and black jeans with leather Chelsea boots.

“Hi! Yeah, was just eating a snack. Uh, make yourself at home, Harry!” Her tone was a bit too perky and she cringed at how silly she sounded.

Harry smiled gently and nodded as he dropped his gaze to her legs and back up, “Yes ma’am. Just gonna take this up to my room first.” He lifted his duffle bag, “Looks really good out there,” gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder, “Looking forward to it.”

“Oh, so glad you like it. It was some work to get everything just right. The guys setting up were so great, though. There are still a few more things to finish up tomorrow but I think for now we’re on track. But um…” she walked to the sink to rinse her bowl out as she looked over her shoulder at Harry, “I’m, uh… just headed to take a shower, though. Haven’t had the chance yet today. So…” she trailed off her sentence. None of what she was saying mattered to him at all. She was sure of that.

Harry puffed out a quick little laugh, “Okay. Yeah. Well, I’ll be in my room.”

Her shower was delightful but her nerves weren’t soothed. She was wound up tight and now that her stepson was here in her house, alone with her… she closed her eyes to compose herself. A ridiculous woman. A dirty and perverted woman. Who thinks of their stepson in this way? It’s absolutely disgusting. Immoral. Depraved. Evil. But it had all begun with that night and the way he danced with her. Innocent. Until it wasn’t.

She stayed in her room for a while. Not sure how she should go about acting casually in front of Harry. After that night at the bar, how could she? They had crossed a line. She had crossed a line. She took responsibility for this whole mess in her mind. She was the one at fault. Harry was only 20. Well, 21 now. Technically his birthday was today.

Fuck! She’d forgotten to wish him happy birthday!

Pulling her leggings up and slipping on a t-shirt she huffed as she paced the room. Well, now she had to go and tell him and also apologize for the state she was in when he arrived and how she’d forgotten and…

Calm down. He probably doesn’t even care, Y/n.

Knocking at his cracked open bedroom door she peeked in to see that Harry wasn’t in there. She looked down the hallway and for some strange reason she stepped into his room and her eyes landed on his laptop that was open.

Porn.

He was watching porn. Y/n let out a surprised laugh and shook her head. She was overstepping so many boundaries. She looked at the screen as she moved away, intending on leaving his bedroom and going to find him when her eyes landed on the title of the video he had up.

Stepmom and Stepson Share a Bed

Her pulse grew fast and her palms began to sweat. Of course, perhaps that meant nothing. Perhaps that was just something he was watching that he found hot and didn’t realize it was stepmom porn or something…

She backed herself out of the room quickly but when she felt his hands on her shoulders and his voice, that fucking voice that sounded like sex, “You okay? Nearly ran me over-“

But he stopped short. He looked at the bed where his laptop was open and realized what she’d seen. He’d been saving his favorite stepmom porn videos lately. This one was just up. He wasn’t actually watching it before he’d stepped out of the room. It had just been on the screen when he closed out the Word doc he was working on for an essay at school.

“Fuck.” He whispered and released her shoulders, “Y/n, I… look that was just-“

Y/n turned with wide eyes and held her hand up quickly, “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have come in here. I was looking for you to um… I was gonna wish you a happy birthday, and I… I’m the one that should be sorry. That…” she pointed toward his bed, “I shouldn’t have seen that.”

Harry was embarrassed. He felt like crawling under the bed and staying there til the day he died. Never to be seen or heard from again. He was so careless to leave that up like that.

He swallowed and ran his hands over his face and shook his head, “Oh my god. Fuck.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Y/n placed her hand on his forearm and pulled one of his arms down, “Look at me.”

Harry opened his eyes and looked at her like she asked, “No worries okay? That was just nothing. It’s just porn. Everyone looks at porn. It’s normal. Okay?”

“Watching stepmom porn is normal?”

Y/n swallowed. She didn’t think he’d directly come out and say that, “Well… I mean… sure. If there’s a category on Pornhub for it that means someone likes it. You’re not the only one.” She tried to laugh but it died in her throat when Harry clenched his jaw and tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling.

“And besides,” her fingers tightened over his arm, “it’s not like that’s about me anyway. Come on… it’s just porn. So don’t-“

“Of course, it’s about you, Y/n. Why else would I be interested in that kind of thing?”

#ask #firstpost #harry styles #harry styles fic #coming soon #stepmom!reader x harry #harry styles x stepmom!yn #harry styles smut #virgin!harry

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raina-at · 4 months

Text

Year in fic review 2023

Total number of completed stories: 4, I finished Spare Parts in 2022, just finished posting in 2023.

Total word count: About 50 k (published, god knows how many words of unfinished WIPS and abandoned one-shots)

Fandoms written in: BBC Sherlock, I'm a one-trick pony these days ;-)

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected?

Hm, I suppose less? And not the things I expected. I started writing a lot of long, plotty fics but apparently, it wasn't the year for long and plotty fics. I suppose I didn't have the brain space for long and plotty.

What’s your own favorite story of the year?

Probably Nothing Gold Can Stay, because I had this idea months and months ago, of John having a bit of a crisis before his wedding. I had this one piece of a core of a fic, the whole nucleus where John tells Sherlock nobody ever sticks with him, ever. And then I had three different fragments of fics trying to make it work, and every one had something amazing in it, but I just couldn't make it gel. And then I thought of the famous The thing you wanted to say, say it now, and the scene on the bench in TSOT, and bam, I had a fic. It came out in stops and starts of 200-word chunks, while John laboured with whether and how and when to trust enough, to have faith enough to actually say how he feels. I'm really proud of how it came out in the end, and I'm very happy you guys responded to it the way you did.

Did you take any writing risks this year?

I don't know about risks, but I wrote 31 ficlets in pretty much a month, which came out to 26000 words, and that was no mean feat. And I actually still like most of them. Gave me a bit of writers' burn-out, I won't lie, but what a ride!

Do you have any fanfic goals for the new year?

I want to finish my Christmas fic. I would like to re-visit the Nothing Gold boys because I think there's meat on these bones and I always wanted to do a series of shorter fics that hang together. So maybe I can do something with that. But last year was so stressful at work and I don't see this year going any better (we have three big conferences this summer, so it's probably going to be So Much Worse). So, I'll be grateful for what I can accomplish, and accept that it might not be everything I want.