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silverskyeline · 4 months ago

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'bad idea, right?' 18+ dofp!logan x f!reader

summary: your father hired him to protect you, not to fuck you. but logan never really liked playing by the rules. (1.7k) tags: set in the 70s, logan goes down on reader, fingering, squirting, lots of dirty talk, messy, overstimulation if you squint, logan calls the reader 'princess, babygirl' etc, for the 'timetravel' prompt for logan promptober.

"that's it, there we go. . ." logan hums, his voice muffled as he eagerly laps at you with his large tongue, "daddy never let you have any fun, babygirl?"

he grins, ". . . but, daddy ain't here right now though, is he?"

you know this is a bad idea, know you shouldn't be doing this. your father's vengeance upon the stranger between your thighs would be so swift and cruel, but you find yourself unable to care.

his tongue expertly drifts through your wet folds as he groans, sending reverberations right to your core. those large, calloused paws of his grip at your thighs, his thick digits pressing into your soft flesh deeply. he's messy, the best kind of messy, lapping at you like an animal, like a man deprived.

"taste so fuckin' good," he grumbles against your pussy, deep hazel eyes finally opening to look up at you. they're glazed, and so is he, his chin dripping with your slick. but he's not done with you yet, "look how fuckin' wet you are already, you're literally dripping. . ."

your cheeks flush at his almost mocking tone, fingers threading through his hair as if to encourage him. you're not sure how you got here, except you are. the moment he walked through that door, sent by your father to protect you, you felt an ache build between your legs.

you could tell he sensed it too, the way his words and sentences were crafted almost expertly to have you wet and wanting all within twenty minutes of first laying eyes on him. no other guard has ever had you moaning like this, soaked like this, splayed out on your back like this.

but you're pulled from your thoughts when his lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently. your head falls back, moans spilling out into the apartment your father had rented as the man your father had rented devours you.

"such pretty sounds," logan growls against you, tongue flicking before pressing flat against you, "you're gonna wake the neighbours. c'mon, let 'em hear what i'm doin' to you."

your head is spinning, his words causing heat to pool low in your belly. he nuzzles against you, nose brushing against your swollen clit before he dives back down to your entrance, tongue dipping back inside to fuck you. it's almost too much, the way he makes light work of you as if it's so easy, as if he knows your body better than you know it, without even knowing more than just your name.

"that's it," he coos, grinning between your thighs as he kisses his way back up to your swollen bud once more, "moan for me, wanna hear you scream. i told you, want them to hear how good i'm fuckin' you." that's when you feel them, his thick fingers circling against your hole, teasing you, almost warning you.

but it's not a warning, it's a promise. one that you want - no, fuck that, one that you need. you roll your hips a little in response, moaning and whimpering beneath him, pleading without words.

logan smirks, he knows what you need, of course he knows. he saw the way you eyed his hands, the way you watched him flex them subconsciously - he knew you wanted them buried inside of your begging cunt as soon as he entered the apartment, could smell your want, your hunger.

he was paid to protect you, after all, and how better to protect you than to keep you fucked out in his hands at all times?

just one, at first. one finger slides inside, testing you. it's tight, really tight, and wet, a soft slick sound filling the air as his finger slides inside of you. "oh, been a good girl have you?" logan teases, but it's not like he cares how many people you've been with before him. he's the only one who's ever going to matter, anyway.

then another, you're gasping and moaning at the feeling of him filling you. his fingers are pretty big, much bigger than your own. his tongue dances across your clit, urging you to relax as he stretches you, and you do. he feels you settling, a groan rumbling from his throat as he eases into you.

but when a third finger enters on the next thrust, you're gripping the sheets and calling his name. it's thick, his three fingers filling you almost completely. you wonder how big he actually is and how he compares to his fingers, but your thoughts dissipate as he begins pumping them in and out of you steadily.

"that's it, there we go. . ." logan hums, his voice muffled as he eagerly laps at you with his large tongue, "daddy never let you have any fun, babygirl?"

he grins, ". . . but, daddy ain't here right now though, is he?"

your breath catches in your throat, looking down at him through hooded lids as he fucks his fingers into you faster. his eyes are locked on yours, lips and tongue lavishing your clit with the attention he knows it deserves.

"never had a man like me before, have ya?" logan mumbles, mouth half full with you, "never had a man to really show you how it's done."

you'd answer if you could, but your mind feels like liquid, unable to form or grip any solid coherent thought other than you don't want this to stop, don't want it to ever stop. instead, you tug at his hair, moaning his name over and over like a prayer. his name tastes sweet on your lips, a name you know you'll be calling out in a lust-filled haze on nights when you're particularly lonely. nights where you want, crave the touch from that stranger who nestled between your thighs and lapped like you were a fresh spring and he, a desperate parched man.

he feels you flutter around his fingers and he smirks against your clit. the sweet symphony of your moans reverberating against his ears has his dick twitching in his jeans, aching for release, aching to replace his fingers.

but not now, not while you're writhing so perfectly for him, coming undone at just a few strokes. you wonder how you would handle his cock when you're already close to bursting with his fingers, but who could blame you? the way he curls and pumps and glides them in and out of your tight pussy, you'd think he already knew all of your sweet spots, knew you inside out, without knowing you at all.

logan is just a stranger, but you know the memory of him will be burned between your thighs, making you throb, forever.

"gonna cum, aren't you?" he growls against you, picking up the pace. his fingers curl just slightly, enough to brush against your spongey g-spot on the next thrust, just enough for you to tense up and gasp.

you can't deny it either, there's a tidal wave coming that threatens to destroy you. it's rising slowly. you can't stop it. and it's crafted by him, by the man between your thighs. but you don't want to stop it, you just worry about who you'll be when you resurface on the other side, gasping for air, lost at sea, changed forever.

nodding, you let a whine slip from your lips, feeling a sensation build, your breathing ragged. it's coming, you're cumming. and instead of taking it easy on you, calming the waters, logan encourages the overwhelming waves with a curl of his fingers.

that's all it takes, all it takes for you to cum harder than you've ever cum before. you feel a gush, hot liquid coating your thighs and along his face as he fucks his three fingers into you deeper, hitting that same spot in every thrust. you're screaming his name, fist clenching in his hair in an iron grip as you roll your hips against his face. he's taking it too, tongue assaulting your clit in all the right ways to increase the pitch of your desperate screams.

and he loves it, loves the way you become so messy for him, coating those fresh sheets and his skin. he's moaning too, not that you can hear it over your ecstasy, but it's there, low like a growl beneath every cry.

"good girl. . ." he groans, pumping his fingers in and out of you relentlessly as you clench around him rhythmically, feeling his cock throb in his jeans at the sensation. he just knows you'll take him so well, knows you'll sound even better when it's his fat cock you're cumming around instead of his fingers.

it's almost too much, feeling yourself come apart at the seams as he stitches you back together with those calloused fingers of his through each thrust. and just as quickly as the waves come, they calm all at once, washing over you slowly, sending goosebumps rippling across your soft, supple skin. logan slows too, licking stripes along your cunt to catch the remnants of your release.

"holy shit," he grins wolfishly, proudly as he presses a few kisses to the inside of your thigh, "don't need to introduce myself to the neighbours anymore, i guess, already know me by name."

you flush deeply, running your fingers through your hair as you release his, resting back against the bed fully. there's a witty quip on the tip of your tongue, but it melts away at the feeling of him pulling his fingers out of you.

"this. . . can't happen again," you whisper, shaking your head as your eyes fix on the ceiling above you.

but logan smirks, he knows you don't really mean that. knows you're just trying to convince yourself that you won't crave him in your core, that he won't flash in your mind when another person finds their home between your thighs.

"whatever you say, princess," he shrugs, sitting up as he wipes your delicious slick from his beard and chin.

you glance up at him, his bare chest, muscles tensing coupled with those pretty blue jeans. fuck. fuck. this wasn't happening. dad would kill him, kill you too probably.

"but," you find yourself beginning to speak, unable to stop the words from fighting their way out, "suppose it could be our secret. . . if it did."

ah, there it is. there's the admission logan knew was coming. he knew it was gonna come the second he wrapped his lips around that swollen little clit of yours. you just needed someone to fuck you right, fuck you proper, fuck you dirty like you deserve.

besides, logan never really liked playing by the rules, anyway.

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himbosandhardwear · 7 months ago

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Steddie I Different First Meeting I NSFW I Public Indecency I 2.8k words

He's planted. Call him The White Tree of Gondor, he's so planted. Nothing and no one could move him from this spot.

He's going to have perfect line of sight to center stage, as long as no one over 6’3” stands in front of him. He's got his good boots on, giving him a solid three inch lift.

Some people come and go, not as dedicated to keeping their spot. Not Eddie. He's planted.

“You think he moved back?” Some chick yells behind him.

“Doubt it,” her companion yells back, “the point was to get closer.”

“Well I don't know if I can deal with closer. It's only going to get worse when the band goes on, and I'm at my limit for men touching me today.”

“I'm pretty sure there's beer in my hair.”

“A fate worse than death,” she mocks him, making Eddie chuckle. “You wanna bail? He can come find us after.”

“I don't know, Rob, he's just a kid. What if he gets scared?”

“Oh my god, he's sixteen.”

“He's short!” The guy yells shrilly, practically in Eddie's ear. “No way he can see over top everyone's head.”

“Okay, then you stay, dingus. I'm going to go pay $12 for a bottle of water. Come find me after.”

“Rob! C'mon, don't- Rob! Ah shit.”

Eddie almost turns to give the guy some reassurance but he can't, making friends in the crowd is how you end up getting pulled into another direction. He can't chance it. He's planted.

Not to mention his friend was right, the more time that passes, the more packed in they become. Once or twice the guy behind him gets jostled into Eddie's back, mumbling apologies each time. Eddie doesn't bother to reply.

He's determined to ignore the guy until suddenly they're pressed front to back, shoulder to calf, the guys massive hands wrapping solidly around Eddie's waist so they don't fall down, and he's fucked. Suddenly the guy behind him is all he's thinking about.

Of course this turn of events sends the poor guy into apology overdrive, hands ripped back immediately as he stutters his excuses.

Eddie waves it off, still not turning away from the front, but the urge is strong. He kind of needs to see if the guy is as hot as that ten second press against him would suggest. Christ on a bike, he even smells good. At least Eddie is pretty sure that's him, the pine/sugar/sweat combo.

A glance at his watch tells him they've got maybe another ten minutes until the show starts. Five minutes ago that would've been all he would've cared about but now he's got Hot Boy Brain Rot and can't focus.

Which is why the next time they get pushed together, Eddie does absolutely nothing to help correct, he lets the guy pull him back and very nearly fall flat on their asses. The only reason they don't is because they fall into the people pressing forward.

“I swear to god, I'm not doing this on purpose,” the guy says with a chuckle that warms Eddie’s already sweaty skin. He hasn't let go yet, his enormous hands hold Eddie upright, skin on skin where his shirt has been cropped.

He's lost his mind completely, because he puts his own hands on the ones circling his waist and squeeze, a soft acceptance of their predicament. It could mean nothing if the guy is straight - maybe, probably, he's not good at judging that sort of thing - but if the hot guy standing behind him is in any way interested, he'll understand.

And praise Dale, raise hell, he does! Long fingers tighten, slide, tighten, before letting go again. He's pretty sure the guy just stuck his thumbs into the indents at the top of his ass too.

Which is when he realizes there's a not zero percent chance the guy thinks Eddie is a girl.

He forgot he's wearing a kilt, which idiots seem to think is a skirt 70% of the time he has it on. Combining that with his hair being down and the fact that he hasn't turned around at all… Fuck.

You're 6’2” right now. Maybe that's enough of a hint. Or your hairy legs? No, it's way too dark to see that far down, no way he-

Eddie squeaks as the guy runs a finger tip along the edge of the kilt. Luckily, it's too loud for the sound to travel, that would've been devastating.

The guy leans forward and whisper/yells, “Is this okay?” into his ear.

Eddie nods, takes a miniscule step back, bringing himself closer. He's gonna take this as far as he can before they either get kicked out for indecent acts or the guy realizes what he's doing and bashes Eddie for ‘tricking him.’ The smart thing to do would be to fucking turn around and confirm his stupid gender but… it's nice feeling wanted for a moment. Nice enough for whatever the consequences are.

An arm snakes around his middle, a fucking nice arm, all sinewy and freckled and brown, causing a surge of giddiness. They're pressed together again, this time on purpose. The guy seems to instinctively know Eddie has this spot picked out because he doesn't let anyone push them or get between. He does, however, laugh every time they get jostled closer together. It's infectious too, makes him smile along every time he hears that giggle. If the guy doesn't stop being adorable soon, Eddie is gonna fall in love.

Whoops. Too late. There's an enormous cock pressed up against his ass; any semblance of control or ability to play it cool goes right out the window.

He's never been more proud of himself for taking up street hockey with Jeff and his cousins than this moment. Some asshole had said to him, years ago now, ‘No one wants a bottom with a flat ass,’ and Eddie let that settle into a deep seated neurosis that pushed him into sports. Casual sports, that actually turned out to be pretty fun, but still…

Anyway, he's got an ass worth pushing against now, which is doing fantastic things for the whole ‘accidently luring a stranger into simulating sex acts at a concert' thing he's got going on.

Good god are they playing with fire right now. Yeah everyone is distracted by the drum tech setting up but it's not like they're invisible here. The guy to Eddie's left is just as close as the one rubbing off against his ass, if he glances down he's gonna see what they're doing. That thought only brings Eddie closer to finishing, untouched, in his underwear. His own erection is being held down by his boxer briefs, which are always a good choice when wearing a kilt. Shit happens in the pit, he's never been keen on flashing his bare ass to everyone if he takes a header.

He's snaking a hand down, trying to be subtle, but he needs to squeeze his dick or he's going to start crying.

His new friend must catch the movement because his right hand follows the trajectory, sliding right along with Eddie’s, until they're both stalled out, cuping his hip instead of his erection. Eddie thinks about passing out, he's so turned on and terrified. Either the guy knows he's about to touch a human penis or he's about to get an unwelcome surprise.

Before Eddie's heart can explode and kill him, three things happen rapid fire:

The lights go completely dark, signifying the start of the show, which makes the already packed stadium lose its collective shit.

Then there's a call from behind, the dreaded, “Heads up!” Eddie only just manages not to burst into tears as his one true love has to let go to support the weight of the asshole crowd surfing above them. He makes sure to pinch the fucker as he takes the weight of his stupid leg as it goes by.

Then, immediately after, there's another crowd surge as the first lick of Blackened rings out around them. Adrenaline pumps through Eddie like a lava flow, two desires waring within him making it impossible to choose. Does he turn to find the man of his dreams or does he stay the course and watch the greatest metal show of all time?

Considering this is the third time he's seen Metallica live, he turns around.

He's gone. The only people behind him now are two chicks with their tits painted white and gold and a middle aged biker.

Awesome.

He keeps looking but no one near fits the right description, not even close. Why the fuck didn't he turn around and just look at the guy? At least then he'd know who to look for after the show.

It's not like his night is completely ruined or anything. He jumps in the closest pit and takes his disappointment on the poor bastards unlucky enough to crash into him, and he has a splendid time with that. It wasn't his original plan, he wanted to stay center stage and actually watch the show this time, but he's too keyed up to stand still now, better to shove his fellow man and get elbowed for his troubles.

By the time James is wailing out the final insane notes of Battery, Eddie is thoroughly beat. It's a slog getting to the back of the stadium but he's determined to beat the crowd to the pissers. The night was fun and all but he's ready to go. Ready to stick his hand down his pants(kilt), relive the oddest and hottest encounter he's ever experienced, and then forget it ever happened.

He's made it as far as the merch line when a familiar voice yells his name. He looks back and sure enough, Dustin Henderson is waving at him like a semaphore code operator. Goofy ass kid, Eddie loves him to death.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He asks after giving him a back slapping hug.

“Surprise early birthday gift, I didn't know until yesterday or I would've told you.” His whole body is thrumming with excitement. It must be his first metal show. You wouldn't know it to look at him, he's got a whole mini-Eddie thing happening, which is adorable.

“That's awesome, dude. You didn't want to stay till the end?”

“I already saw their setlist and calculated the timing just right to get in line before the crowd let out.” Of course he did. “What about you? Taking off?”

“Yeah, I've had…a weird night. Good but weird.”

“You wanna ditch in line? Looks like they still have plenty of T-shirts available.”

He laughs. “Nah, thanks though. I'm just gonna head home. I'll see you Saturday?”

“Totally, wouldn't miss it-”

“There you are! Jesus, Henderson, I thought I lost you. Your mom would kill me if something-”

The guy finally stops bitching but only because he's staring at Eddie like he's seen a ghost.

“Uhh,” Eddie drawls, confused.

“Steve! This is Eddie! You know, from Hellfire, at Tech.”

It would be appropriate for them to shake hands, he thinks, but the guy is just staring at him, going more and more red as the seconds pass. It's a good thing he's pretty because his social skills could use some work.

“Hey dingus, did the beer in your hair finally soak into your brain.” The woman standing to Steve's left knocks on his forehead with a knuckle, making him flinch.

“You guys okay?”

Eddie is too busy being strapped into a roller coaster of emotion to respond to Henderson’s quiry. It can't be this easy, fate has never been this kind or cruel to Eddie, not at the same time. His dream man can't be Dustin's babysitter/big brother Steve. That guy drives a BMW and listens to Supertramp, which he only knows because he followed Dustin out to the parking lot one night. Except, Steve is gorgeous and fun and a good dude who worries about his kids, and is smoking hot.

He knows Steve knows he knows now, his own face has gone beet red, and they're just staring at each other, like some kind of gorgon in a bathroom mirror situation.

“What is this? Why are you being weird?” Steve's girlfriend - Rob? - asks. “Wait, oh my god, is Dustin’s other dad, your imagined arch nemesis, the Guy in the Crowd? Holy shit, he totally is, what are the fucking odds!” She cackles.

Wait. He told her about that? And he knew I'm a guy? And he thought we were nemesis? That's so hot.

Dustin is going on about Steve's apparent low self esteem and how Steve needn't worry about his loyalty and how he loves them both equally, which is sweet, but he and Steve are still just staring at each other.

“I know a good diner around here,” he blurts out when Dustin finally shuts up. “They have all you can eat pancakes.”

Steve's eyes do something devastating, adjacent to cows touching grass for the first time. “I like pancakes.”

“Let's get pancakes.”

“Okay.”

They start walking away, dazed, until Dustin reminds them of his presence, loudly and with much insult. “Steve! You drove us here!”

“Shit.” He turns back. “Right. Sorry. C'mon, we're getting pancakes.”

Dustin looks to Rob, as if to say, ‘What the fuck is going on?’ She replies back with a sort of ‘I don't get paid enough to explain this to children’ and ‘I know, he's hopeless but we love him’ both kinda look.

“What?” Steve asks.

“I'm still in line, dude. I want a T-shirt.”

“But-”

“No buts!” Dustin screeches. “Pancakes can wait!”

Eddie wishes they would figure it out soon, he still has to piss.

Rob, bless her, she's Eddie's new best friend, takes Dustin under her arm and asks Eddie, “Where's the diner?”

“25th and Dudley Ave. Called Roxy's.”

“Got it. Go on, I'll bring your son after he's got his stupid shirt.”

Dustin is the epitome of disbelief. “What! No! Guys, don't leave me with Robin!” He yells, to which Robin responds by putting him in a headlock.

“Go! Run before he figures out what's going on.”

Steve doesn't need to be told twice, apparently, he grabs Eddie's wrist and yanks him toward the exit doors. It’s exciting, running away with Steve, even though they’re only running from Dustin. Still, it leaves them both breathless by the time they get to the end of the block, both laughing about how ridiculous it all is.

“God. Haven't run like that since…well the last time the cops were after me.”

Steve just grins, hands on his knees, looking like a former athlete, all deep breaths and physical therapy style stretching. Fucking hot jocks, ugh.

Eddie wants to mount him.

Which brings them up to the awkward part: acknowledging what happened.

Steve braves it first. “Hey, I, uh, I don't want you to think I go around doing shit like that.”

Eddie, ever the opportunistic asshole, says, “Shit like what?” When Steve's face falls to horror, perfectly timed, and Eddie loses it. “I'm kidding, sorry, I'm just fucking with you. It was definitely me.”

“Dick,” Steve says but he's laughing.

“Yeah, that's me.” They sort of instinctively move away from the street, closer to the less busy side storefronts. “In the interest of honesty, I should tell you, I wasn't entirely sure you knew I wasn't a girl, that's why I sort of hesitated right there at the end, before we got separated.”

Steve looks baffled. “Huh?”

“You know.” He waves at himself. “From the back I could be a tall chick. Cause of the kilt and the hair and everything.”

He shakes his head. “Dude, I saw you from like four rows back. Why do you think I stopped where I did?”

Fuck. Okay. That's…awesome. He jams a whole fistful of hair against his face.

“Also, even if you had turned out to be a tall chick, not a deal breaker. You're fucking hot either way.”

“Okay, Romeo, cool it with the compliments before I make you finish what you started right here.”

Jesus tap-dancing Christ, that smirk should be illegal.

“Right here against the jewelry shop window? I'm not opposed.” Eddie very seriously considers the pros and cons of that but before he finishes, Steve laughs. “Better not. I was promised pancakes. And Lord have mercy if Rob and Henderson get there before we do.”

He's right. God dammit.

“Fine but for the record, which I feel goes without saying, I do put out on the first date.”

Steve laughs. “Never would've guessed.”

By the time they get to Roxy's, Steve has his arm around Eddie's waist, pinkie tucked deep into his kilt.

#dustin: this steve hes my babysitter and he DROVE ME HERE #steddie #meet cute?#anonymous grinding #ficlet #my writing

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ckret2 · 6 months ago

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Chapter 70* of the first day of the rest of human Bill Cipher's life—he's back in the Mystery Shack but whether or not he's a prisoner anymore is up in the air, he's proven he knows how to escape, and the Pines have proven they don't want to execute him anymore. For now. How's he gonna celebrate?

With back pain! That's what you get from half a week of running around in the woods ignoring all your body's pain signals.

But at least it can't get worse.

This chapter is book compatible but book spoiler free! The fic won't remain spoiler free, but while I figure out how to incorporate the new info in the fic, we're proceeding with pre-written chapters unaltered.

[*"hey, wasn't this chapter 62 a few days ago?" I renumbered the chapters after the Axolotl arc. If you haven't read the Axolotl arc, go back and read it!]

####

Soos was awakened by Melody as she thrashed and sucked in a gasp like a scream. Groggily, Soos said, "Babe? You okay?"

She rolled over, grabbing for his arms with trembling hands. "Soos—"

"I've got you." He half sat up with a sleepy groan and pulled Melody into his embrace. She pressed her face into his chest with a sigh. As he stroked her hair, her breathing slowly steadied out again.

"M'good," Melody said. "Sorry I woke you."

"Don't worry about it, babe. Always happy to cuddle." He yawned. "Sleep paralysis again?"

"Yeah," Melody sighed.

For as long as Melody could remember, she'd had sleep paralysis nightmares: nights where she'd wake up and find she was unable to move any part of her body but her eyes, and a monster escaped from her worst dreams was lurking in the room. Shadowy figures with glowing eyes, twisted demonic representations of her least favorite teachers, hunched hags with claws extending out of tattered robes—for three years, it had looked like a werewolf-mummy from an old horror movie that terrified her as a child—filling the doorway, or silhouetted in the window, or standing perfectly straight in the corner with neck tilted sideways as though it were broken, or staring hungrily down at her from the ceiling with bulging eyes, or crawling up from the foot of the bed and over her body to grab her throat.

The first time she spent the night with Soos, she'd warned him about her sleep paralysis; but for the past year, she'd never had a nightmare while sleeping in the Mystery Shack. She'd even been completely free of them for several months—something subconsciously reassuring about having her fiancé next to her, probably—until their unwelcome house guest moved in and she'd gone back to sleeping at her aunt's house in town.

And now she was even having them in the shack.

"This is the third time in less than a month," Soos asked. "Same one as usual?"

"Mhm."

"I couldn't protect you this time," Soos said mournfully. "I have failed you as your knight in shining armor... Maybe I need shining armor. Do you think they make like, shiny silver spandex pajamas?"

Melody laughed. "Soos, you goofball." She hugged him tighter. "It's fine. I always get sleep paralysis more when I'm stressed. And the situation in the shack's been... well..."

"Yeah," Soos sighed. "I know." She didn't need to tell him what part of "the situation" was stressing her out.

For the past year, ever since Weirdmageddon—which she'd been just unlucky enough to catch live on a weekend trip to visit Soos—her sleep paralysis demon had looked like Bill Cipher.

She'd told Soos this last fall, and in a panic he'd told her that Bill was a dream-invading demon; and for a moment they'd feared this meant Bill had found a way back. But no—according to Soos, Bill was a real chatterbox, and he was always doing something if he invaded your dreams. The thing Melody saw acted like any of her other nightmares: creepy. Standing on too-long legs at the end of the bed; giving off sickly yellow light she could see through her eyelids; staring at her with one bloodshot eye; crawling onto her chest with claws like gnarled black branches. It was just an unlucky coincidence that the real Bill had been a dream demon, and just an unlucky coincidence that being petrified by an eye-bat felt so much like sleep paralysis.

Ironically, now she had confirmation that her nightmares didn't mean Bill was back—because, when Bill did come back, her nightmares hadn't changed.

"My subconscious just hasn't caught up to the fact that you guys finally executed him," Melody said, getting comfortable to go back to sleep. "The good news is, the real Bill's gone and we never need to worry about that again."

"Oh," Soos said. "Um. By the way. The craziest thing happened at like one in the morning."

####

Bill was creeping upstairs to bed when he heard Melody shout, "He's WHAT?!"

He had to clap a hand over his mouth to keep from bursting out giggling.

####

Bill was getting better at using his other eyes in his sleep, even when he hadn't chemically connected himself to them. His range wasn't very far yet. From inside the shack, all he could feel was his hoodie, his new necklace, a handful of drawings Mabel had done, and four blankets of his zodiac wheel: two in the kids' room, one in Soos's, and one in the dark.

Around eight in the morning, Mabel was still sleeping comfortably and Dipper was staring at the ceiling worrying; all was right with the world. He only glanced into Soos's room long enough to overhear Melody, "—I'm not mad at you, I'm just mad about the whole situation. I mean, I'll adjust, but still—" before moving on, uninterested in listening to a cutesy couple reassuring each other.

The fourth blanket was in some tight dark container—leather?—but he could hear a muffled voice: "If Bill's staying here on a long term basis, we need to renegotiate... almost everything about his captivity." That was Ford. It was gratifying to know that even when Bill was asleep, the whole household was thinking about him.

"Yeah, you're right," Stan sighed. "We can't just let him keep sleeping on a couple of cushions. We haven't been able to use that couch all summer." There was the sound of a zipper and the lid over the zodiac blanket swung up, revealing Stan standing above.

Ford said, "And trying to get him to sleep in the living room is a lost cause. He says he needs to sleep in a room where he can see the stars."

A guilty look crossed Stan's face. "Right. That's probably it." He pushed the zodiac blanket aside, pulled out a t-shirt, and shut the suitcase again. "We could get—I don't know—an inflatable mattress or something..."

"There's an unused mattress in the basement, isn't there? Maybe we could haul it up." (It wasn't a terribly comfortable mattress. But Bill supposed they only wanted to give him the bare minimum so they could get their precious couch cushions back.)

"I'll ask Soos about it," Stan said. "Well, let's get this over with."

That was Bill's cue to wake up. He'd like to look alert when they came for him. Negotiations ought to go in his favor; he could still threaten suicide if their terms felt too restrictive—or even just threaten to escape, he could do that now if he didn't like their terms!—but they couldn't threaten to kill him anymore. He wondered if he could get phone privileges...

He opened his eyes. He was laying on his left side, the window at his back. He tried to push himself upright.

Sharp pain exploded in the left side of his back. He gasped, collapsing on his side. The pain clawed over his left shoulder, inside his arm, up his neck, across to his right shoulder blade, down nearly to his hips. His entire body tensed around the pain.

He let out a weak, wheezy laugh. (He could feel his ribcage contracting as he exhaled.) That was truly exquisite pain.

All right. He shouldn't be surprised by this. He'd spent four of the last five days tromping through forests and mountains and three of the last five nights getting next to no sleep, including two nights in a thin sleeping bag. The last couple of days, he'd hiked all over creation carrying two fully-loaded backpacks, in a body that had gotten next to no exercise for the past month and probably hadn't been designed for hiking in the first place. And on top of all that, first he'd thought the Axolotl was coming to arrest him and then that the Pines were going to kill him—and human bodies handled emotional stress very poorly. Not to mention whatever the heck had happened when three-fourths of his body had simply stopped working for an hour.

He'd ached for days. He'd simply kept pushing himself through it all, because this stupid weak human body didn't get the luxury of rest when Bill's life and death were on the line.

Apparently, that was all the pushing it could take. Now he felt like someone had shoved a knife in his back and twisted the muscles up around the blade like twirling a forkful of spaghetti. (Oh, that sounded delicious. One more brilliant idea to implement when he restarted Weirdmageddon: spinal muscle spaghetti. Freshly grated parmesan, maybe a little pesto.)

It was difficult even to breathe—that little motion was enough to make his back muscles squeal in pain. He had to carefully move his hips and right arm in tiny motions to let him roll onto his back while roiling up his pained muscles as little as possible; and then he just as carefully rolled onto his right side, his back to the room. The human body was such a fascinatingly complex interconnected thing, crisscrossed with puppet strings that all tugged each other; no matter what part of his body he moved, somehow it managed to yank on something in his upper left back. He curled his left arm against his chest and squeezed his elbow with his right arm, trying to find a way to tense the rest of his body that reduced the tension on his back.

He heard the door to Mabel and Dipper's room open. For lack of a better plan, he shut his eyes and tried to look natural as they passed him on the way to the stairs. Like heck was he about to let the kids know he was in pain, much less ask them for help. He doubted he was severely injured—he combed through his knowledge of human anatomy—probably just a muscle spasm. It would reduce in a few hours; and then he could make his way downstairs and figure out how to convince someone to get him an ice pack out of the freezer without betraying that anything was wrong. For now, he just had to lay down, try to find a position that didn't stab into his revolting muscles, and wait...

Downstairs, Stan bellowed, "Hey, demon! Get down here!"

Right. What were the odds Bill could make it downstairs and fake that he wasn't in agonizing pain in front of the Pines family? Could he suppress those winces convincingly? He tried to sit up.

And immediately fell to his side again with a gasp. In spite of his breathtakingly self-destructive willpower, he physically couldn't force himself to sit upright. Why not! What was the point?! He didn't mind the pain half as much as his body did, and he thought he should be the one in control here!

Stan hollered, "BILL!"

His voice cracked, "Later!" Ugh. Good thing he'd gotten in his dramatic return last night. He suspected that was the last time he'd look cool for a while.

####

Soos was just emerging from the bedroom when he heard Stan shouting, "I said get down here, Cipher!"

There was a long pause before the reply came from upstairs: "Can't!"

"I WASN'T ASKING!"

"ME NEITHER."

Something was up. Bill always talked a little too hard—not always loud, but hard—as though he were trying to carry on a regular conversation over a strong wind; but Soos thought something about his voice seemed even more forced today. Almost strained.

Soos heard Stan and Ford talking quietly as they headed up the stairs—"...sounds off, do you think he's injured?" "I can't imagine how, if he'd been up this morning we would have heard him banging around..."—and he followed them up.

At the top of the stairs, Stan demanded, "Well? What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong with me." Bill was curled up on his usual cushion bed. He didn't even turn to look at them. "Just—let me sleep in. Am I not allowed to sleep in? It's not like I have a job." Now that he wasn't straining to shout, his voice sounded even more pained—barely more than a tight whisper.

"All right, fine. Nothing's wrong with you," Ford said. "Then what's wrong with your body?"

Bill chuckled weakly in defeat. "Back's in too much agony to do its job, so I'm giving it the day off."

"Oh, dude," Soos said sympathetically. "Back pain is the worst. One time, I messed up my back after carrying a bunch of boxes between the museum and the attic? Yeah, it was pretty bad for like, a day. I was kinda crying, because it hurt, but also because I had to miss work, and I felt awful about it—but then I remembered the Mystery Shack was closed that day, and I wasn't missing work. So I went to sleep."

Stan and Ford stared expectantly at Soos.

"That's it, that's my whole anecdote."

"Riveting," Bill said flatly. "Did you invite everyone up here to stare at me?" With great difficulty, he pulled his bedsheet up over his head, leaving only a pile of golden curls visible. "Anyway. I'd love to come downstairs—really, I'm famished—buuut my back won't cooperate, and I can't tell you how furious I am about laying on the ground like an idiot at the feet of three of my captors, so if. you. all. would. leave. Please." The "please" came out sounding like the final word of a hex.

Soos winced. Oh, yeah, he supposed being stuck on the floor in front of a bunch of guys you didn't like was pretty embarrassing. He looked toward the stairs and shifted his feet, waiting for the Stans to make a move that direction.

But instead they huddled up to discuss. Stan muttered, "Think he's faking?"

"Why would he?" Soos asked.

Ford murmured, "Soos is right—unless he's that desperate to sleep in, I can't think of a reason he'd lie. He had some... muscular issues after the eclipse—and who knows what he's been up to the last couple of days..." Ford raised his voice, "This isn't the same thing as after the eclipse—?"

"No, just garden variety human back pain," Bill said quickly. "I assume it's garden variety. I've never had back pain before."

"Can you tell what muscles it is?"

"Ugh." Bill let out a shaky sigh. "Pain's... generalized, but... top suspect is the latissimus dorsi. Next guess is the erector spinae group."

"What," Stan said.

Ford nodded like he knew what Bill was talking about. Which he probably did, Soos figured. Doctor and all. "Probably not a severe injury, then. It likely just needs rest—"

Irritably, Bill snapped, "Like I said."

"Great," Stan said. "Then I don't care anymore." He headed downstairs. "Lemme know when the demon can walk again."

Soos and Ford exchanged an awkward look, silently debating whether to follow suite. Ford turned to Bill and cleared his throat. "What do you want for breakfast."

Bill groaned and muttered, "Probably can't use utensils. Whatever, just—bacon and toast and the strongest painkillers in the house."

"All right." Ford headed downstairs.

That struck Soos as inadequate. Trailing after Ford, he said, "Dude, Bill's in so much pain he can't even sit up. Shouldn't we offer to call a doctor or something?"

Ford said, "Knowing Bill, he'd rather die."

Soos considered that. "I'm gonna offer it anyway." He backtracked enough to get his head above the attic floor. "Hey Bill, do you want us to call a doctor or something?"

"I'd rather die."

"Haha, okay! Welp, glad I checked."

But as he headed down to the kitchen, something about the situation still bothered Soos.

Ford was already laying out bacon in a frying pan. "Soos, could you get the painkillers?" he asked. "We should probably give him individual pills rather than the whole bottle. When he got his hands on the cold medicine, he used it to get crossfaded with cider and to drug a wild animal."

Soos winced. Ouch, was that the cold medicine he'd given Bill? (He wondered when Ford had learned the phrase "crossfaded.")

"Hey... didn't Bill say he was famished?" Soos asked. "Is it kinda weird he's just asking for bacon and toast?"

It took Ford a long moment to answer. He didn't look up from the bacon. "I... suppose he's too proud to ask for anything more complicated."

"Why wait for him to ask, then? Just make him some more stuff anyway?"

Ford shook his head. "He'd be insulted."

Ford had been right about Bill's reactions so far, but— "Okay, fine. Then I'll bring it upstairs and insult him. He'll be insulted and fed. What do you think he'll eat?"

Ford glanced at Soos. Soos thought the look was grateful.

####

Apparently, Bill's age looked a little bit different to everybody. Soos had first found out when Abuelita mentioned that Bill looked like one of those ladies she saw at bingo night who were clearly 60-something, but had had a little too much work done—makeup, facial injections, hair dye. The sort who never really looked younger, but rather just gave off the impression that they were terrified of looking older.

So Soos had asked Mabel, and she said that Bill looked like he was in his mid-20s—about Soos's age, maybe a little older. He'd asked Dipper, and Dipper said he had no idea—to him, Bill never really looked quite convincingly human, more like an alien wearing a human rubber mask—but if he had to take a guess at the age the rubber mask was supposed to portray... like, middle-age-ish? Parent-middle-age-ish? Maybe 40-something? 40-something. Melody had had a hard time as well, but eventually settled on early 30s—the age you imagined a snotty Silicon Valley startup CEO would be.

Which was all very fascinating to Soos.

Because to him, Bill looked eighteen. Exactly eighteen.

At 23, Soos was just reaching the age where 18-year-olds stopped looking like peers and started looking like babies. Eighteen was "you know this is what an adult looks like, but it takes you by surprise almost every time" age. Eighteen was "you wouldn't be surprised to see this face behind a counter working as a barista, but you'd be a little alarmed if you overheard them talking about paying rent" age. Eighteen was "they can be all alone in the world making their own decisions and it's technically okay, but if they are, then someone failed them" age.

To him, Bill looked like somebody who'd been flung callously out into the world before his time—unprepared, overwhelmed, and alone.

Soos knew Bill was older than the whole universe or whatever. He knew that Bill was the guy who'd tried to take over the Earth. But he wasn't that guy now. Look at him. He shouldn't have been worried about imprisonment or world domination or getting executed. He should have been making pocket change working at the mall food court over summer break and playing Dancy Pants Revolution at the arcade with other recent high school grads and making puppy eyes at all the small business owners in town until somebody offered him a minimum-wage full-time job and sneaking into the movie theater on Saturday mornings.

Soos was finding it more and more impossible to see Bill as the enemy, much less as some incomprehensible alien. He had cousins who looked like Bill. Slap a pair of sunglasses over his freaky eyes and try to ignore that his body proportions were just a bit unnatural, and he could blend right into a Ramirez family portrait. Just another post-high-school pre-college kid in the middle of the transition from skinny teen to fat adult that most Ramirez women went through by 30. His neon yellow hair would fit right in beside Reggie's little sister's current neon red dye job.

From the moment Bill temporally poofed into the Mystery Shack on June 1 with a Pony Heist bedsheet toga and an ineffective vengeance plot, he'd been going through the physical and emotional wringer. Soos got it, of course Bill was having a bad time, he was a prisoner because he was a danger to the whole universe. And being human for the first time was probably tough. One time Soos was stuck in a pig's body and that was rough, and it was only for one day and at least Soos had still been a mammal. It was probably inevitable that Bill was having a bad time.

But it bothered Soos, seeing somebody in his house who was so miserable. And it bothered him that no one else seemed very bothered.

He loved the Pines family—he'd reverse-adopted Stan as his dad and he'd give his life for any one of them—but part of him had to wonder whether they'd be more bothered by witnessing the hell Bill was going through if he looked like he could be part of their family.

####

"Hey dawg!" Soos hefted up the tray as he entered the attic. "Breakfast!"

Bill was still buried under his bedsheet. "Stanford couldn't be bothered to come up himself?"

"I wanted to bring it!"

Bill grumbled something inaudible. He'd made no secret of the fact that he disdained Soos, although Soos had no idea why. When a human looked down on Soos, he had a couple guesses; but he didn't know what an alien could judge him for. Was it the British dog man nightmare? Was Bill insulted by Soos's 10th grade geometry grades?

But Bill didn't protest, so Soos scooted around his makeshift bed to set the tray down on the floor in front of him. "Uh... feel better, dude. Hey, you know—if sleeping on the floor is hurting your back, the fold-out sofa in the living room is still totally available. Just, in case you wanna—"

"Not interested," Bill said. "Buzz off, Questiony."

"Okay." He'd offered.

Soos was almost back to the stairs when Bill said, "What is all this stuff?"

"It's breakfast!" The tray included bacon, a toasted sandwich, a drink with one of those straw that bent in the middle so Bill didn't have to sit up all the way up to drink it, a pre-opened chip bag, and a pre-opened pill bottle. (Soos had elected to ignore Ford's advice that they mete out painkillers one pill at a time. If they gave Bill individual pills, he'd have to ask for more when they wore off, and Soos suspected he'd rather choose to suffer.)

"I didn't ask for this."

"Well, I thought you might want some other stuff."

"I don't."

Surprise! Bill was insulted. Soos didn't understand how he could be insulted by some extra food for breakfast—he's still gotten his bacon and toast—but all right, fine, Soos had been warned. "Oh, okay. Just don't eat anything you don't want."

Bill grunted in response.

As Soos started down the stairs, Bill said, "Hey, Questiony. If Mabel asks where I am, just tell her I woke up for breakfast then decided to sleep in."

Aww, he didn't want her to worry. "What about if Dipper asks?"

"Tell him to mind his own business."

"Heh. You got it, dude." Soos headed back to the kitchen—still bothered.

####

Yesterday, Soos and Melody had made plans to take advantage of the Mystery Shack being closed for the day to make breakfast together, the way they used to during the off season. But today, Melody had said that, now that Bill was alive again, she wasn't comfortable eating in the shack, and she'd gone to her aunt's house. She'd said she wasn't mad at Soos, and he believed her—he'd played no part in Bill's continued survival—but still. It kinda felt like she was mad at Soos.

So Soos was eating brunch by himself in the kitchen when Bill gingerly eased himself downstairs—leaning to one side, wincing in pain, one eye squeezed shut, and supporting himself on his broken umbrella; but, mobile again. He ducked into the living room where Stan and Ford were watching TV and, from what Soos had overheard, planning what to do with the rest of their summer. "Okay, I'm here," Bill said. "Negotiations?"

"Hey—no weapons," Stan said. "Hand over the umbrella."

"What! You let me keep it last night."

"Yeah, when it was raining and we were tired. I don't see any rain inside the house."

"Hey, Mr. Pines?" Soos leaned out of the kitchen. "Bill was just using the umbrella to walk? Maybe we could let him keep this one?"

Bill shot Soos a dirty look, face flushed. (What was that for!)

Stan paused, and turned to Ford for a verdict. Ford pressed his lips together, looked away, and muttered, "Well, if he's using it for legitimate purposes."

Bill stared at Ford, brows raised in amazement. "Wait, wait—I'm allowed to have it now?"

"Yes?" Ford said. "I mean—If you're using it to walk, why wouldn't you be?"

"Why wouldn't I—?!" Bill laughed in disbelief. "'No weapons, Bill!' 'No weapons, Bill!' Ev-ry sin-gle time! No canes, no umbrellas, no brooms, no baseball bats, no GOLF CLUBS, no STICKS, no CURTAIN RODS—"

"Oh come on!" Stan spread his hands defensively. "Some of those can obviously be used as weapons—!"

"I wouldn't have needed a baseball bat if you hadn't already taken my cane!"

"You tried to brain Soos with a cane on your first day."

Bill shot another dirty look at Soos.

Soos said apologetically, "That did objectively happen."

Bill rolled his open eye and glowered at Stan again. "What, so because of that I'm not allowed to walk?"

"I," Stan said. "That." He turned to Ford again for help.

Ford said, "If we'd known you needed a cane—"

"I fall down the stairs twice a day!"

"Well," Ford said.

"You use me falling to tell when I'm up in the morning!"

"Ah."

"Did it not occur to you! That this was a problem! That I was trying to solve!"

"I see your point."

Why didn't he just say something, Soos wondered; followed by, what, the guy who refused to explain why he was stuck laying on the floor until we dragged it out of him?

"Well, you've got an umbrella now," Stan said. "Happy?"

"Elated," Bill said sourly. He perched on the armrest of the sofa, visibly wincing as he crossed his legs and found the right position to balance himself. (Soos noted that, since Stan and Ford were already occupying both armchairs and the sofa's seat cushions were in the attic, Bill didn't have any cushioned place to sit. With back pain, no less.) "Let's get this over with."

The crux of the negotiations was that, when Bill and the Pines had initially agreed on the terms of his imprisonment, they'd only been meant to be sufficient enough to last until either the Pines figured out how to kill him or Bill figured out how to escape. Now that both had happened and it looked like Bill would be staying here longer than planned, they supposed they needed something more sustainable.

Bill requested door rights back. Stan and Ford nixed that immediately; they didn't trust him with that kind of freedom.

"Fine, then at least let me go outside. I want fresh air, blue skies, and a social life! I'm an extrovert, I'm losing even more of my mind in here."

Stan and Ford exchanged a look. "Yeah," Stan said grudgingly. "He's more or less in solitary in here. Even for him, that's harsh." (A ghost of a triumphant smirk flickered across Bill's face and disappeared.)

Ford considered that with an unconvinced grimace; but he said, "I suppose... you can make occasional trips outside the shack for... mental health purposes. Under adequate supervision."

"Finally," Bill sighed. "So what's 'adequate' supervision?"

That was where negotiations broke down. Stan and Ford did not think that Mabel alone was adequate supervision for the villainous Bill Cipher, and Wendy was just barely sufficient for Rainbow Club nights but he couldn't be trusted alone with her outside that; Bill, on the other hand, objected strenuously to the suggestion that he could only go outside with somebody who hated and/or distrusted him—which described everyone in the shack except Wendy and Mabel—because that would just make going outside miserable.

They couldn't agree on what kinds of things Bill would be allowed to do, either. They didn't like the idea of him hanging out with Rainbow Club members outside of club meetings, or going with Abuelita to bingo, or visiting a bar in town—all of those would give him too many opportunities to manipulate people with minimal oversight.

"Okay," Bill said irritably, "so are there any social activities I am allowed to participate in! Since it sounds like socialization itself is off limits—!"

Soos decided to make himself scarce before things got any more heated. Maybe he'd go upstairs to retrieve the tray from breakfast.

####

The bacon and drink had been consumed; the bendy straw had been tied in a double loop; the pill bottle was alarmingly light; the sandwich had been picked at, before Bill elected to eat the toast around it and leave the filling behind on the plate; and the potato chip bag had been flung across the room, crushed chips left in its wake, in some sort of protest against receiving unasked-for food. Okay. So Bill was really insulted, then.

Eh, Soos should probably clean up here anyway. He took pride in keeping the Mystery Shack clean, but he hadn't had a chance to thoroughly clean the attic since Bill and the kids moved in for the summer. And it looked like the projectile potato chips weren't the only junk food trash that had accumulated. He saw empty chip bags, candy wrappers, peanut butter jars, jerky packets, cider cans... a lot of cider cans...

He went downstairs, got a broom, a trash bag, and a vacuum, and got to work.

As Soos worked his way across the floor sucking up potato chips, he quietly sang to himself, "Am I cleanin'? Girl, I'm cleanin'. I vacuum in the attic. 'Are you cleanin'?' Yeah, I'm cleanin'. I vacuum in the..." He picked up the couch cushions to vacuum under them—he still wondered why Bill preferred to sleep on the cushions rather than the sofa bed downstairs. Maybe he got scared of the dark and liked to sleep by a window? That would make sense. Since Bill used to glow when he was a triangle, he probably wasn't used to the dark. Or maybe he just thought the attic was cooler than the living room.

Soos almost set the cushions back on the ground, noticed bloodstains on one, and froze. He'd seen Bill with a lot of little injuries, but had he seen any cuts that big? The blood didn't look fresh. They'd at least been here long enough for Bill to hide them on the underside of the cushion. Soos looked around wildly for any clues about how or why or when, uneasily decided that since they were dry and Bill wasn't dead he didn't need to worry about it, and pulled out the upholstery attachment to give the stain a halfhearted vacuuming before putting the cushions back in place. What the heck was happening in this attic?

Soos scooped up the mostly yellow and black clothes sitting at the foot of the cushion-bed—they were outside Bill's cardboard box "dresser," he figured that meant they were dirty—wrapped them in Bill's Pony Heist sheet, and tossed the bundle toward the staircase. They flew down to the landing without hitting the stairs. "Yes! Three points! No net!" Soos pumped his fist.

He cleaned the window seat's cushion with the upholstery attachment, picked it up to clean underneath—and the cushion was really heavy on one side. He felt that side of the cushion; there was something hard and brick-ish inside. He caught a flash of white along one edge. The cushion's stuffing was coming out of a tear in the seam. Soos reached inside.

His jaw dropped. "No way. How did he...?"

Soos had pulled out two stubby crayons and the long-lost Journal 4.

####

(If you got this far thank you for taking a break from the fandom-wide riots over the book in order to read my fic. (I'm assuming there's fandom-wide riots, I'm queuing this Monday night so that I don't have to worry about it for the rest of the week.) Anyway, I'd love to hear what y'all think about our first Soos-focused plot arc!

And as promised, now that the book's out, I'll be getting to work crossposting the fic to Ao3 soon-ish. I don't know when yet, since I'm writing to y'all from the past, but soon.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #soos ramirez #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher #(Dec 12 edit: chapter has been renumbered)

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typeofraccoon · 9 months ago

Note

Hiii um can I request a fluff five x reader fic where the reader is also an adult stuck in their teenage body, and has a demeanor similar to Lila, they’re like super smart but always some of the most off-the-wall shit that doesn’t really sound smart at first but after a minute of thinking you’re like ‘oh shit Ok yeah that makes sense’. (Sorry if this doesn’t make much sense btw)

-rem

Part Of It

Five Hargreeves x Reader

Five Hargreeves Masterlist

I'm gonna make this kinda in an au where s3 didn't happen and Lila went with the Hargreeves instead of just leaving at the end of s2 and Ben's alive like actually alive not a ghost.

Also sorry if this isn't what you were thinking of.

Warnings: Not proof read, unfinished? and I basically had this finished so I just went through some of it and decided to post it. Even though this isn't too long and might not make sense.

Word count = 1,144

Description: Your remarks make even Five confused sometimes but it's part of why he loves you.

As the sun shone through the window and past the open curtains you rolled over in your bed reaching out next to you. After not feeling anyone you open your eyes squinting at the light that was flooding into the room. You sit up rubbing the sleep from your eyes getting ready to open them again.

When you had opened them you slung your legs over the edge of the bed and grabbed your slippers. Once you had put your slippers on you planted your feet on the ground and pushed yourself up off the bed. Now standing you walk towards the closet to get ready for the day.

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

You were now making your way to the kitchen to get a morning coffee and hopefully find the person that was missing from your bed when you woke up.

As you were walking down the stairs you saw Lila walking up them towards you. She smiled at you and started to talk "Fives in the kitchen making another pot of coffee."

You look at her questioningly with an amused grin on your face already knowing what she meant but decided to ask anyway. "What do you mean another pot?"

Her grin widened as she lifted a mug in her hand while saying "Diego isn't awake yet, and both me and him need our morning coffee." As she finishes her sentence you notice another mug in her other hand. "There was just enough for two cups, luckily."

You both chuckled a little before saying bye to each other walking the opposite ways again.

Now you knew that Five wouldn't be cheerful in the morning already but with Lila having taken Fives coffee you knew it would be easy to piss him off. You were already thinking of some way to distract Five from Lila so that he wouldn't be plotting revenge for the rest of the day.

When you walked into the kitchen you noticed Five hovering over the coffee pot mumbling something under his breath. You smile slightly realising that this is your chance to try and scare Five. Something that he had never given you any chance to do before and had actually said that you'd never be able to do.

As you snuck up behind him you got ready to say what you had planned in an effort to also distract him from what you were about to do as well.

When you were close enough to him you started talking relatively loud before wrapping your arms around him. "You know that if you lived for 70 years you'd have spent like 10 years of your life on Monday."

You felt Five jump slightly your smile grow wider at your successful attempt at scaring him even slightly. You let go of him and Five turned to face you. When you could finally see his face he looked confused and you smiled sweetly up at him.

You were looking at him innocently as if you hadn't just said something that you knew he had to think about. Then Five turned back around to the coffee pot and picked it up getting ready to pour coffee into his cup.

As he started to pour the coffee into his cup he spoke to you. "What do you mean by that?"

When he finished talking you started to clarify why you had brought it up. "Well think about it you're technically 58. So in 12 years you'll have lived 10 years of your life on a Monday."

You were looking up at him with a sweet smile on your face as you were talking. When you had finished talking he had filled his cup up with coffee.

When he went to place the coffee pot back in it's rightful place you quickly grabbed his cup and walked to the table. By the time that Five had realised that you had taken his cup you had already sat in one of the chairs and started to sip from the cup.

Five looked at you with a fed up look before sighing and turning back around. But you noticed his mouth turn into a slight smile just before he managed to fully turn around.

"Did you really have to take my coffee?" He said while going to take out another cup from the cupboard.

You watched his movements "Yep." You responded to him with a smile.

When he had grabbed another cup he turned back around to look at you before starting to talk again. "Even if that was correct wouldn't all the time travelling change that."

You thought for a second while drinking. "I mean... that would depend on if you time travelled perfectly then technically my point still stands" As you finished talking you were looking at him.

Five had grabbed the coffee pot once again and started to pour it into his new cup while he was looking right at you. He sighed before an adoring smile was brought to his face and he chuckled slightly before he responded. "Fair enough."

He placed the coffee pot back where he had just placed it a couple of minutes ago. He brought his cup to his lips and took a sip of the coffee before he started to walk towards you.

He smiled lovingly at you and sat in the chair next to yours before he started talking trying to continue the conversation. "So when I actually do turn 70 then I will have spent at least 10 years of my life on a Monday."

You looked at him excited. "'Exactly! See that's still interesting."

When you finished the sentence you laughed slightly while looking up at him. Meanwhile he just rolled his eyes at you while taking another sip of his coffee.

He looked into your eyes before starting to speak to you again. "So since you're so certain about that. Do you know how many years we will have been together in 12 years?" As he was finishing his sentence he leaned closer to you and smirked once again.

You leaned in closer to Five as well and closed your eyes confidently with a smile on your face. "Well actually it will have been about nineteen years since we first met and about fifteen years since we started dating."

Five smiled lovingly at you and leaned back slightly to take another slightly longer sip of his coffee. When he brought the cup back away from his lips, his smile still prominently glued to his face he started to lean back in towards you while placing his cup on the table beside him.

Once Five was a couple of inches away from you he spoke again. "Sorry but you're wrong there darling. " When he finished his sentence he chuckled slightly. "By then we would've met seventeen years ago and it would have been dating for fifteen years."

#number five #five hargreeves #tua #the umbrella academy #five x reader #five hargreeves x reader #five x you #five hargreeves x y/n #five hargreeves x you

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facefullofsadness · 1 year ago

Text

I'm gonna combine all 3 of these bc they're all kinda the same, hope u anons enjoy!

content - sub!yunjin x dom!reader, smut (phew let's see, cunnilingus, edging, fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, some corruption kink, some g!p reader)

wc - 970

a/n - the first anon is real, never escaping writing huh yunjin! am I complaining though? nope! love my rockstar tall hot perfect gf! lemme write her as a literal sub this time LOL

okay so sub yunjin.

I stand by the whole auditory thing, she loves sound. so not only does she love hearing your moans, her moans, the lewd sounds coming from her cunt, any of the above, but also dirty talk. you love to rile her on by whispering naughty things in her ear and watching her body stiffen.

she's not sensitive and loves foreplay. 70 percent of having sex with yunjin is foreplay, her relishing in the feeling of your skin touching her's and the pleasure gradually building the more you proceed. this way, when you get down to actually fucking her, her body is so incredibly responsive.

dropping to your knees to push her skirt up and panties to the side, sliding your tongue against her slit and filling your mouth with her slick, yunjin moaning out into the hot air surrounding you two. her thighs tremble on either side of your head and her hand threads through your hair, the other hand holding her skirt up to let you do your thing.

loud, responsive, and needy. yunjin whimpers with every swipe of the wet muscle trailing her clenching hole, hips jerking with every brush of your tongue against her clit, and whining your name like it's the only thing she can coherently remember in her brain clouded with lust. pleas for more leak from her lips when you tease her because oh my god is it amusing to see her so ruined by your touch.

and the joy it brings you to see her cry out for you when you deny her another orgasm, her body thrashing and tears welling at her eyes because you're so mean :( needs to cum so badly but you won't let her because "baby, I'm so sorry but you don't deserve it yet."

"I've been such a good girl though, please please god please let me cum. I-I can't take it anymore...!"

you bring your hand to cup her cheek and use your thumb to wipe her tears, cooing as she rubs her thighs together to suppress the orgasm, "you know I can't cum if you don't do it."

"I know my love, just hang in there," you shoot her a warm smile to comfort her as you plunge three long fingers into her pussy, making her scream out and tears trail down her cheeks.

forcing her legs open and smacking her ass if she dare close them. mumbling absolute nonsense as her hole sucks your fingers in more and more with each pump, her eyes rolled back and hands clutching the bedsheets. you'd keep aggressively fingering her until she'd squirt all over your hand, arm, and the sheets, continuing till she's completely overstimulated and forcing another orgasm out of her, giving her all the climaxes she had been begging for minutes prior.

alternatively in a g!p reader world, you'd pull out your fingers, denying her another orgasm and forcing a sob to escape her throat. you pull back from her and hover over her shaking body, tears staining her cheeks, hair absolutely tousled, hands clenching at your shoulders enough to hurt.

"wanna cum baby? need it? tell me, tell me how badly you want me to fuck you until you cum."

yunjin cries, pulling you in to bury her face into your neck and beg, "y/n-ie please! it hurts so bad! fuck me! ruin me until I fall apart, please please... use your fingers, bury your tongue in me, fill my pussy with your cock, just please!! it's aching!!"

your eyes darken and lip slides into a smirk as she trembles under you, begging to be fucked senselessly, it would be a shame if you didn't listen to her! and so you did!

kissing her tear-stained cheek and whispering a reassuring okay into her ear before pulling back and resting the tip of your cock against her entrance, swiping up and down to collect enough of her wetness.

looking yunjin in her watery and pleading eyes before slamming yourself into her, a scream ripping from her mouth. her moans deafeningly loud with every intense thrust of your hips into her soaking hole. you pant into her ear and she grips onto you for dear life. her cunt clenches onto your throbbing member and it's difficult to move with every stroke, but you power through because she feels so fucking good, taking everything you give her so well.

she blabbers incoherently and murmurs continuous thank you's as you ram into her with no mercy, your pace impossibly fast. the sheer amount of slick and spit on and in her pussy makes everything so easy and pleasurable that you can't help but to feel like exploding soon. you hold her legs wide open and push deeper, bottoming out into her and feeling her cervix on your tip, making her throw her head back and your nails sink into her plush thighs.

you continue to rail her, completely pussy drunk and obsessed with how corrupted yunjin looks under you, a shell of the former confident hot girl you knew. nothing but a fuck doll, begging to be ruined by you. rubbing your fingers against her clit and watching as it sends her over the edge, her legs wrapping around your waist, her hands digging into your back, her throat sore with another scream erupting from her throat, her cunt gushing with cum against your pelvis. you cum deep inside of her, spurting out ropes of white liquid into her, filling her to the brim with your seed.

both of your guys' legs shake with pleasure as you fall on top of her borderline lifeless body. she's panting and gasping, trying to grapple onto air as you lick along her neck, tasting her sweat and smirking against her shoulder, her squirming with every action.

a/n - pretty short bc there's no concept behind it, it's more just headcanon/thoughts!!

#ffos reqs #le sserafim #yunjin #kpop gg #fanfiction #kpop #le sserafim fanfic #girl group smut #yunjin smut #jennifer huh #huh yunjin #girl group #girl group fanfic #yunjin fanfic #sakura #chaewon #kazuha #eunchae

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daydreams-after-dark · 7 months ago

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Hi love >_<!! How are you???

Because it's almost my birthday. (just 15 days !) Could you maybe write something for my birthday? :> I am requesting it very early because I'm so busy with my own life, including my mental health, so I won't be online often ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜)⁭ ⁭ ( 1 am totally okay, tho!! So don't worry about me!) You can post it before or after my birthday. I don't really mind when!

Something about birthday sex mixed with slight angst if you don't mind?? (Pure smut is totally okay!) Make it filthy and add whatever you want, as I already said once; I'm open for everything!! (I'm a slut ngl..)

P.s. I'm into piss lately..shhh

- lots of love 🎪

pairing: male escort!lino x fem birthday girl reader (I hope it's okay that I have chosen Lino for this?)

Your friends pay for a sex worker for your birthday, but what happens when arrives and you already know each other?

A/n: Hey Happy Birthday 🎪 my love. I hope you are well and taking care of yourself 😘 Tending to real life and mental health is extremely important.

I hope that my little scenario is okay, I am struggling with writing lately. The ideas are there, but the execution is not as good as I want it to be.

warnings below the cut

CW: Piss Kink (f on m), breeding kink, unprotected p in v (pls be safe), restraints, paid sex, birthday sex, oral sex, vaginal fingering.

You’re not really sure why you decided to dial the number on the gift card your best friends gave you. Really? Why of all the presents they could have chosen, did they think it appropriate to gift you a male escort/gigalo? One who does home visits at that?

Yep! They knew you hadn’t had sex in almost a year, and they knew you really needed to get laid.

You’d never paid for sex before. Technically, you’re not paying for sex in this instance either, your friends have. But still. What are you thinking? Letting a stranger come in and do things to you.

The doorbell chimes and you let out a shaky breath. “Happy Birthday, Bitch!” You wink at yourself in the mirror and take one last look over your body. You’d shaved your legs, popped on a little thong, and slipped a short satin dress on. No bra. Fuck! You sigh. It’s basically a short satin camisole nightie. Will this be okay?

The doorbell chimes again and you hurry to open the door to your apartment.

“Lino?” You gasp in surprise when you see your brother’s best friend standing in your doorway and not the escort. You squint your eyes. It is him isn’t it? You haven’t seen him in five years. But it has to be him.

“Y/n? Noona?” He smiles and takes a good look at your face. “Um… I…ah…must have the wrong address.” He begins nervously. “Let me just check where I’m supposed to be.” He whips out his phone. “Unit 4, 70…”

“Yep. That’s this address.” You say awkwardly.

You stare at each other for a moment as realisation hits.

“You booked an escort?”

“You’re the escort?”

Lino laughs while you hide your face in your hands “Fuck! This is so embarrassing.” You wail.

“So you did hire an escort. Well then... Do you want me to come in? Leave? You’re the client. It’s your call.”

“My friends organized it. They think…” you trail off.

So many questions run through your mind. Why is Lino an escort? And dear god, what if he tells your brother about this? Is Lino actually going to fuck you? No! That’s probably very unlikely. But he is extremely attractive… and he is paid for… You bite your lip.

“So? What’s it going to be?”

“Hmm?” Your thought are broken.

“Shall I stay, or leave?” He repeats.

——

You couldn’t turn him away, that would have been rude right? So you brought him in, offered him a drink and snack and invited him to sit on the couch with you.

Now you’re half an hour into a conversation about what you had both been doing for the past few years. You learned that being a gigalo… sorry, escort, is Lino’s side hustle while he brings to life his big dream of opening a restaurant-slash-dance entertainment establishment.

“Like a strip club?” You raise an eyebrow.

He rolls his eyes. “No, not a strip club. It’s going to be for all ages.”

He learned about you too. What you do for a living, your bad breakup a year ago, how it’s your birthday and your friends organized this as a gift.

He unzips his black backpack that you hadn’t even realized he had with him, and retrieves a tablet.

“Alright, let’s see what you have booked.” He opens an app and smirks as he skims over the details.

“Wait! What are you reading?” You try to catch a glimpse of the screen but he pulls it away.

“I don’t know what my friends told you…” you tug your hair wishing you were invisible.

"it says here: vanilla sex." He turns the tablet to show you.

Your mouth hangs open in shock. "Those fucking bitches think I want vanilla sex?" You shriek. "Or was that the cheapest option?" you pout.

Lino laughs haughtily. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger. Or orgasm giver. What is it I've read on Instagram - 'don't bite the hand that fingers you?'"

"Give it here." You snatch the device from him. "Am I suppose to sign something? Tick some boxes? Consent to some shit?" You scroll the screen.

"The next tab over." Lino leans over your shoulder. "Yep. Right there." He pokes his tongue out of his mouth slightly as his eyes catch some of the "inclusions" that can be selected.

In your desire to prove your friends wrong, and that you don’t want just vanilla sex, you hastily tick every single box on the form and sign the bottom. "There! Surprise me! It is my birthday afterall." you huffed.

Lino raises an eyebrow. Then suddenly he pulls you by an arm and a leg forcing you to straddle him. You yelp in surprise, but it’s quickly replaced with a sigh, and you really hope he didn’t notice.

His face is awfully close to yours and you can already feel yourself growing wet with anticipation. Are you really about to be fucked by your little brother’s best friend? The one that used to have sleepovers at your house. The one that used to wear cat print pyjamas?

“Do you even know what you signed up for?” He whispers eyeing you up and down and swallowing hard.

“I said surprise me.” You gulp.

His hands run up your thighs. “Is this thing expensive?” He asks gently tugging at the hem of your black satin dress.

You shake your head.

“Good.” He growls as he tears the garment from your body. Your hands fly up to cover your exposed breasts, but he tugs them away roughly. “I used to wonder what your tits looked like. Fuck! They’re perfect.” He sighs and takes a nipple into his mouth. You gasp and throw your head back. You grind against his crotch, and you notice he has hardened in his jeans.

“Wanna know a secret?” He says as he pops off your nipple and licks it. “I used to get hard when you’d walk around your house braless.” He bites down your nipple making you cry out. “Sometimes,” he begins to pepper kisses across your chest towards your other nipple. “You’d show me your nipples through your shirt. They’d get so hard, poking against the fabric. I’d have to go jack off. That’s how hot I thought you were.”

“Were?” You raise an eyebrow.

"Were. Are. Always will be." He locks eyes on you and you feel the tension in the air thicken.

"Are you really going to fuck me, Lino?" you whisper quietly.

"I'm going to make this a night you're never going to forget." He replies huskily.

"You didn't answer my question." You smirk, threading your fingers through his dark locks.

He holds onto your ass as he slips off the couch to lay you down onto your soft fluffy rug in the middle of your living room.

Leaning over you, propped up on one arm and cupping your cheek with the other, he leans down and captures your mouth in a kiss. The gentleness is unexpected, but it isn't long until he is kissing you more purposefully. His tongue glides over yours making you hum into his mouth. He moans at that, deepening the kiss even further, like he wants to possess you.

You hold on for dear life as he presses his strong thigh between your legs, nudging them open so he can press hard against your core. Your back bows off the floor and you whimper. Fuck, you must sound so desperate. But it has been so long since you had anyone, besides yourself, has touched you.

He presses his thigh against you again and chuckles when you respond with another moan. "Such pretty noises, Noona." He smiles against your cheek. "If I were to touch your pussy, I bet it would be soaking." He leans up and looks at you. "I'm dying to know."

He looks around the living room, seemingly making some kind of assessment, and then he's back into his backpack. You lean up on your arms to see him with a velvet-like rope in his hands. Your cunt clenches and an excitement swirls around your stomach.

"Lay back down." He instructs, and then he's tying your wrists together with the soft rope. He positions your arms above your head and secures the ropes to the leg of your chunky timber coffee table.

But that's not all. Lino is back with more ropes, this time tying one around each of your legs. He manages to position you in such a way that he can secure the other end of the ropes to the little wooden legs of your couch, forcing you to be spread open for him.

You feel so exposed and so utterly vulnerable, even with your tiny thong on. But even that doesn't stay on for long, as Lino cuts it off with scissors.

He sits back on his heels between your legs and takes you in. "That's better. You won't be able to squirm away. Now I can get a good look at your pussy." He bites his lip and runs his hands up the inside of your thighs. You shiver at his touch, not sure how you're going to last. You're on the verge of an orgasm as it is.

"So fucking wet, Noona." He states as he spreads your folds gently and runs his thumb through your arousal. He slides a finger into your tightness, then a second. "Tight too. It's been a while, hmm?" He teases.

"Unfortunately, yes." You cry.

"Let's take care of you then." He promises and without warning begins to finger fuck you hard, fast, and angled directly into your g-spot.

"No! Lino! Not yet...can't come yet!" You beg.

"Oh Kitten, you are gonna come when I say, and as many times as I say."

He's relentless with his fingers. You can't squirm away, forced to take what he is giving you. You're cunt is already producing the most lewd sounds you've ever heard. How can you possibly be this wet? How can Lino be so good at this? Your eyes roll back as you give in, accepting the pleasure. The tightness inside of you ready to burst. "Oh god... fuck..." you pant. Your chest feels flush and you know your face is turning a slight shade of pink as you edge closer to release.

"That's it... come all over my fingers." He coaxes.

You come hard, your back lifting off the floor, your thighs trembling, and tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

You collapse, panting. "Lino," you say as your try to catch your breath. "So good...so fucking good. How are you this good?" You sob.

"Shhh. It's okay. Here. Suck these." he lays beside you and pushes his glistening fingers into your mouth. You've never really had anyone shove their fingers into your mouth before, but it feels so erotic. You moan as you taste yourself on him, urging him to push his fingers deeper into your mouth. You make a pathetic sound when he goes to pull them away, so he lets you suck and lightly choke on them a little longer.

"If that's how you suck my fingers, my cock's not going to stand a chance." he says with a half smile. Your eyes snap open and you stare at him with pleading eyes.

"Oh you wanna suck it do you?" he pulls his fingers out of your mouth.

You nod. "Please! Let me..."

He sucks in a breath. "Well, I can't say no to the birthday girl. Or client. Especially when they selected everything under the sun on their terms of agreement. Including, golden showers."

"Wait! What?" You lift your head, horrified. Minho looks at you incredulously, as he strips his clothes off. You are stunned. Partially because you didn't even know that was on the list, and also because Lino naked is the most beautiful thing you have ever laid eyes on.

"It's okay. You don't have to do anything you don't want." He says as pumps his delicious looking cock a few times. He seems to be hard as stone and leaking. He's leaking for you? Fuck.

You don't have time to even think more about the piss option, as Lino positions himself so you are in 69 position. You open your mouth wide, allowing him to sink his cock into your eager mouth, while at the same time he buries his face in your pussy. You moan around his thickness as he demonstrates just how skilled he is with his mouth.

He eats you out like a starved man. Lapping at you eagerly. You try to grind against his face, but he holds you firm so you can't move. He groans against you, making you whimper around his cock. It's a delicious cycle, each of your sounds and vibrations from your mouths, making the other respond in the same way. Lino starts to thrust into your mouth, his balls hitting you in the face each time. You want him to suffocate you, and you wish your hands were free so you could pull him in deeper.

All you can do is try to meet his thrusts by lifting your head as much as you can and hope he gets the message. He does get the message, and fucks your face as he slides several fingers into your cunt. He slurps on your clit and hits that sweet spot inside you, all while you're struggling for air.

It's too much and you come again. This time harder than before. He works you through it, slowing both his cock and fingers down to a slow pace. He eventually peels himself off you and sits beside you panting.

"Lino?" You whimper looking at his disheveled hair, and drenched chin. "Didn't you want to come down my throat?" you panted.

"I wasn't sure if you wanted me to?" he says shyly. He unties you from your restraints and you sit up and give him a devious look.

"What?" he looks back at you suspiciously.

"When you used to jack off because of me, what did you think about?"

"Oh, right. That?" he lays down on the rug beside you. "Well." he pauses to think. "I often imagined you riding me. Like... You couldn't contain your urges, so you'd find me in your brother's room and push me down and force me to breed you." He admits.

"In my brother's room?"

"Yah! He wouldn't be there in the fantasies." He growled. But you were already moving into position.

"So... you mean I'd climb over you like this?" You throw a leg over him hovering over his needy cock.

He nods and swallows hard.

"Then what? I sink down onto your thick, hard cock, because I need it so badly?'

"Y-yes. Wait!" His eyes flick open in horror. "Condom."

You lean down over him and kiss him on the mouth. You really don't know where this confidence is coming from. Maybe learning that Minho had it bad for you when he was younger makes you feel powerful.

"Oh, but Lino. How are you gonna breed me if we use a condom?" you whisper.

"Fuck!" He moans and pulls you down hard over his length until he is completely inside of you.

"What are you doing to me, Noona?" He whimpers as you start to roll your hips. He's so deep, and fills you so perfectly, and you can already feel your third orgasm building.

Lino's hands are all over you, caressing, squeezing, digging his fingers in. Eventually his hands find purchase on your hips, digging his fingers in hard enough to bruise as he rocks you hard on his cock. Your clit grinds perfectly against his body. It's rough, fast, slippery from your slick. He slaps your ass a few times and growls when your flesh jiggles.

"I'm close." You squeak.

"Fuck! Me too. Me too. Piss on me." He pants.

"What?" You cry, but you don't slow down. You need to come so bad that nothing is going to slow you down.

"Do it." he cries. "Hurry!"

Fuck! Really? He really wants you to? Can you even do it? You aren't sure that you're body will even let you, even if you wanted to.

"Do it now, Noona. I'll give you all my cum if you do." He sounds so desperate underneath you, that you close your eyes and let go.

You feel a warmth pool on his pelvis between your legs. You dare yourself to open your eyes. You peek through your lashes to see Lino with the most aroused expression you have ever seen in your life. Then he starts fucking into you. Painfully hard. The breath knocked from your lungs with each thrust. You feel him grow even hard inside you as he is on the verge from exploding, and it sets r you orgasm.

You clamp down hard around him like a vice. He cries out, filling you to the brim with his cum, just like he promised he would.

Your orgasms are intense, long, satisfying.

You flop down on top of him, allowing your heart to calm and your breath to return to normal.

"Lino. I hope there was an inclusion where you clean up and replace damaged items in your terms of service. Cos this rug is well and truly fucked."

"I'll take care of it." He hums.

"Lino?"

"Hmm?" he wraps his arms around you.

"This was the best birthday present ever."

"You're very welcome." He smiles to himself, but you don't see it because your face is on his chest.

“Happy birthday, Noona.”

————

A/n: I feel like Lino breached several rules as an escort… unsafe sex, knowing the client, having had a crush on the client in the past… but this is how the story turned out… so…. 🥴

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @kyunchoni @justforreaders @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @ismokeeweed @galaxycatdrawz @jiminssluttyminx @teddy-stay @lunearta

#lee minho smut #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #skz smut

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writtenbymisunderstoodnerds · 6 months ago

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Rock bottom (But you pulled me up) (Ingrid Engen x Reader)

I'm trying to work on my requests and WIP, but inspiration is lacking so I thought I'd try something new. This is my first time writing for someone out of the uswnt and in this style so please let me know what you think.

Warnings: Mentions of depression, anxiety, brief emotional abuse. Slightly suggestive at the end. Anything I've missed let me know.

Words: 2.8K

You could tell Ingrid was hurt, it was written all over her face. She had made you a lovely dinner and just wanted to have a movie night after not spending much time together. Yet here you were making an excuse to leave once again, you felt like a horrible girlfriend. Ingrid had taken the time to do something nice for you, but you couldn't get out of your head enough to enjoy it. Before you had the chance to get up, Ingrid uttered those three words that sent dread coursing through you. "We need to talk."

You swallowed hard before speaking, "About what?"

"You barely spend anytime with me anymore. You never message me first, we only do stuff because I organise it. I don't feel like you want me anymore. You're slipping away. Are you trying to get me to break up with you because this hurts so much more than just doing it yourself."

"No! Ingrid-" Tears stung your eyes as you tried desperately to keep it together. Afraid that if she saw how broken you were she would just leave. Things had been difficult for you lately, you were depressed, anxious and stressed. You felt so close to rock bottom, as a result you had been pulling away from Ingrid. The last thing you wanted was Ingrid to leave you, but you also didn't want to be a burden to her or scare her away with your emotions.

"Then what is it? Did I do something wrong?"

You could practically see the hope disappearing from Ingrid's eyes the longer you didn't answer, leaving hurt in its place. "I feel like when I see you, I need to be able to give you 100% of myself, of my energy and time. I can't do that right now and it makes me feel guilty. Like I'm a horrible girlfriend, that you deserve better than what I'm giving you."

Ingrid took your hand, everything in you fighting the urge to lean into her touch, to fall into the comfort you knew was waiting. If only you could bring yourself to accept it. The voices of your parents and ex-girlfriend hung in the back of your mind stopped you though. The voices that told you you were a burden to the people around you, that everyone had bigger problems to worry about and didn't care about you. The voices that told you Ingrid deserved better than you and your problems.

"Elskling, relationships don't have to be equal all the time. There's times where it'll be 50/50, but there's times where you give 90% and I'll give 10% or the other way round, sometimes it'll be 70/30 or 60/40. You get my point. What's going on? You haven't been yourself lately and it's really worrying me. Talk to me please."

You sighed pulling away from Ingrid to cross your legs under yourself, grabbing a cushion to hold. There was a part of you that thought being single would be easier, that there was less risk of hurting Ingrid that way. At the same time you knew it was those stupid little voices in the back of your mind that kept pushing that thought. You loved Ingrid more than anything in this world and deep down you knew she loved you just as much. You didn't want to let everyone else win, you didn't want to let your mind win for once in your life.

Talking about feelings was incredibly hard, it wasn't something you could do while being comforted by Ingrid or anyone really. "I'm sorry for the way I've been acting lately, it's not fair to you and I know that. I-I'll try to explain it all, bu-but I need you to be patient with me. Just let me speak and not touch me, I can't do this if you do."

"Anything you need. I just need you to know that whatever you tell me, I won't ever judge you. I love you Y/n, I love you so much."

"I love you Ingrid. I'm sorry if I ever made you doubt that. Okay, so I um I think I need to start with why I have such a hard time letting people in, especially those I love. My family, well to put it bluntly they're assholes. They were constantly putting down everything about my sister and I, nothing we ever did was good enough. Any problems we went through were nothing to them, they always told us that people had bigger problems, that they had bigger problems and we were just adding more stress to their lives if we talked to them about anything remotely not positive. Tha-thats the short version anyway. My uh my ex was pretty similar, she would tell me that she had better things to do then deal with my trauma or depression. If I was unhappy she would turn it around, say that she wasn't enough to make me happy. Even before her, I majorly struggled with my feelings and opening up to people. Fear mostly, that's why I um haven't told you anything. Fear that I'll be too much for you and that you'll leave me."

Tears threatened to fall, but pushing them back you continued talking. "I'm really struggling right now Ingrid. My depression is the worst it's been in years. The anxiety just sits there constantly under the surface making it feel impossible to breathe. Constant doubt about if I've made the right decisions, if I'm good enough at football, if I'm good enough for you, there are so many more things I could list. Sometimes I feel like everyone would be better off if I just packed up and left. I'm so sick of feeling like this, but I don't know how to get it to stop. This is probably one of the scariest things I've ever done, but I've had already almost lost you Ingrid. I can't let them win by actually losing you. I love you so fucking much, I can't lose you Ingrid, I can't."

Tears were near pouring out of you both as Ingrid sat there for a second. When you didn't speak she must have decided you were finished talking because the next second arms wrapped around you so tightly and you completely broke. Ingrid held you tight until the sobs turned to sniffles then you feel silent. Ingrid's hold never completely let go, it was like a life line at this point.

"I love you Y/n. I loved you before and I still love you just as much now. I'm not going anywhere. Nothing your parents or ex said is true. I always want to know how and what you're feeling, I will always be here for you. No matter what your mind tells you, you are never too much for me or for the team or anyone who truly loves you. Our lives are so much better with you here so please don't even think about leaving because we will miss you. I will be here every step of the way while you figure things out, I will help you get the help you need. If you need space, I'll give you that, but if you need me here then I will always be here. I know you feel like you need to be giving me all of yourself, all of your energy, but you don't. Even if you can just give me 1% until you get over this bump in the road then that's enough for me. You are enough for me Y/n."

"I think there will be times when I need to be alone, but most of the time I just really want to be with you. I need to work on accepting that I deserve your love and comfort so I actually seek it out when I need it or want it. Some reassurance every now and then will help I think. Can we talk about the next steps tomorrow? I just want you to hold me right now."

"I will give you all the reassurance you need and more. Have you eaten today?" Ingrid asked, but the look in her eyes told you she knew the answer so you just shook your head. "Okay, I'm going to order some food while we cuddle here then we can go to bed."

True to her word, Ingrid held you tightly while you lay on the couch, staying close to your side during dinner and as you got ready for bed. "Thank you, for everything you've done, for being here, for loving me."

Ingrid kissed you softly, before pulling away and leaving soft kisses over your face, "Always."

Lying in bed later that night, head resting against Ingrid's chest, you decided to admit the one thing that kept swirling around your mind, "I think I need to take a break from football. Not the training, I think that helps me, but games. The pressure that comes from each game feels like weight being added. Makes me feel like I'm being dragged further down into this hole."

"Okay, if that's what you feel you need then we can talk to the coaches or Ale and she can sort it out. I know the thought of telling anyone else what is going on is scary, but Ale or anyone else on the team aren't going to judge you or think any less of you because of it."

"I think maybe we can talk to Alexia, not tell her everything, but the jist of it."

"I'll be by your side when you're ready." ---

It had been a few weeks since the talk with Ingrid and since you made the decision to stop playing in games for a while. The only person who knew why was Alexia, it was clear that everyone else was worried, but until now you hadn't felt ready to tell them and thankfully they didn't push.

There was still a long way to go, but things had been slowly getting better over the last few weeks. You had started seeing the team therapist multiple times a week and had restarted medication for the time being at least. Everything was starting to become clearer, you weren't as anxious all the time, you were becoming more willing to talk to Ingrid, to actually spend time with her without worrying about not being enough, and smiles and laughs were becoming more genuine when they did happened.

The team had been amazing despite not knowing what was going on, they were as supportive and loving as ever. So you decided it was time to let them in a little bit. You squeezed Ingrid's hand, getting her attention as you spoke quietly, "Can you get their attention please? I know they're worried about me and I think I'm ready to tell them."

"Hey! Can we have your attention for a minute."

Once everyone's attention was on you, the anxiousness started to creep in, but with Ingrid's hand still firmly holding yours, you took a deep breath and spoke, "I know you've all be wondering why I've effectively benched my self the last couple of weeks and I want to be honest about it. I've uh I've been um struggling a lot mentally at the moment and I decided I needed a break. The pressure was too much, I couldn't handle it on top of everything else. So uh yeah, I don't want you guys to keep worrying about me."

It was quiet for a few seconds before many arms wrapped themselves around you, mumbled we love you's and we're proud of you's were heard as you sunk into the arms of your teammates. Surprisingly, Mapi was the first to pull away, cupping your cheeks as she spoke uncharacteristically softly, "You keep doing what you're doing and come back to us when you're ready. You always have is in your corner Y/n. We are so proud of you and we love you. If there's anything you ever need you can come to us okay?"

"Thank you Mapi. Thanks all of you." --- A few months had passed and you were finally feeling like yourself again. There were still hard days, you were pretty sure there always would be, but you were genuinely happy again most of the time. You found yourself more willing to open up to not just Ingrid, but some of the other girls you were closest to. It was safe to say your life was pretty well back on track, there was just one thing left to do and that was get back to football. You hadn't told anyone of your plans to start playing games again, you had just been put in the line up as a sub, but after conversations with the coaching staff you knew you were likely to come in at half time.

When the line up came out, Alexia was the first to notice and speak up effectively getting everyone else's attention, "Y/n?"

"Yes Ale?"

"Is there anything you want to tell us?"

Ingrid looked at you confused as you shrugged trying to be as innocent as possible while knowing exactly what she was talking about. "Oh really? Well how about the small fact that your name is on the substitute list again?"

"Oh yeah. That is a thing I guess."

Smiles grew on everyone's faces as it clicked what was happening. Ingrid practically jumped on you repeating over and over how proud she was, kisses placed over your faces. The team joined not long after, everyone cheered and congratulated you.

"Okay okay, you can let go of me now. Yes I finally feel ready to come back."

Once everyone had let you go, Alexia pulled you up into a hug. Since she found out about your struggles, Alexia had been amazing. She was always subtly checking in whether you were at training or not, she would pull you away when everything got too overwhelming and Ingrid was busy, making some excuse so know one else would know the truth. Alexia was always just there in a way that was subtle and comforting. "Well we're so so glad you're back. I'm so proud of you Y/n."

"Thank you Ale, for everything."

As soon as your foot hit the pitch, you felt the excitement, adrenaline and happiness that you thought may have been gone for good. You felt yourself falling in love with football all over again, it was like the final weight had fallen from your shoulders. There would always be bad days or even bad weeks, you knew that, but with Ingrid, your family and your new found coping mechanisms, you finally felt ready to face them.

---

You arms wrapped around Ingrid as she chopped the vegetables, she briefly turned to kiss your cheek before going back to her task. "Hi Elskling, you played really well today. How did it feel?"

"Hey love. It felt incredible, I know I needed a break, but man did I miss it. Anyway, enough about me I have a surprise for you. I was originally going to give it to you after dinner, but I can't wait anymore. Here." You replied, placing an envelope on the counter in front of her. You could never express how thankful you were for everything Ingrid had done for you over the last few months, for sticking by your side through everything. So instead you had decided to start with a few days away in Venice. It was something she had wanted to do for a while and you decided to make it happen.

Ingrid looked at you for a second before opening the envelope, a smile appearing as she looked at the tickets inside. "What's this?"

"I know what you're going to say to this, but I am so thankful for everything you've done for me. Sure we've spent a lot of time together, but it hasn't been the quality, good time you deserve. So you and I are going to spend a few days alone in Venice in a couple of weeks when we have a bit of time off. Now I don't want to hear any buts or I didn't have to do this, just say you're excited and give me a kiss."

Ingrid cupped your cheeks, allowing you to press her against the counter as she pulled you in for a lingering kiss. Just as Ingrid went to pull away, you cupped the back of her neck pulling her back in as the kiss grew heated. You didn't want to say that you stopped enjoying Ingrid's kisses because that's impossible, it was just intimacy beyond cuddling between the two of you had dropped off to almost nothing the last few months. There were still short kisses here and there, but you couldn't get out of your head long enough to actually be present for anything more and that wasn't fair to Ingrid. Your lips moved along her jaw as a quite moan slipped past Ingrid's lips.

"Di-dinner," Ingrid moaned as your hand slipped under her shirt.

Ingrid's legs wrapped around your waist as you walked back to the bedroom, "Dinner can wait."

#ingrid engen #woso imagines #woso imagine #woso fanfics #ingrid engen x reader #woso

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i-like-eyes · 2 years ago

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