#Does this mean that Bill will let himself be in this situation again??? Yes. Yes it does
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Have a very long post with many dumb jokes and also pornblography! I do not have a title for it yet because my brain is very bad and titles are hard.
Again, NSFW! And it's just about 16k words so beware of Long Post.
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Dipper shoves himself out of the water, shaking mud out of his hair. He coughs, twice, then gasps, sucking in the air.
Did it work-?
He struggles to his knees, churning up the muddy silt from the lakebed, and looks over towards the treeline.
Smoke from the explosion drifts over the treetops. The forest is rife with birds flying away and scattering animals, the fire low in the distance - And judging by the state of the beach, uh.
There’s a jumble of stuff that looks like charred driftwood. Until you look at it closer.
Dipper sits back, water sloshing around his waist. He lets out a slow, shaking breath.
Yeah. It worked.
The other monstrous mess on the shore is standing among the wreckage. Intact, smug, handsome. Other adjectives that are less flattering.
And he’s doubled over laughing.
“You shoulda seen it!” It wasn’t that funny, damn it. Absolutely not knee-slappingly funny, but try telling that to this asshole. Bill does it again, cackling. “You took off so fast it was like-” He makes a gesture that might be a fish leaping, or a particularly inelegant human flailing in an arc. “And the landing!”
Dipper lifts a hand from the muck to flip him off. Not very seriously; he’s too relieved that it’s over with to get truly mad.
A stupid insane plan. An effective plan. Not entirely Bill’s idea, though he went along with it easily enough; he loves danger.
Though Dipper’s pretty sure Bill’s contribution to the explosive curse could have been at least halved. It’s something to keep in mind for later.
He gets up slowly, wiping off the mud and what water he can from himself. Trudging to the shore, wringing out his shirt. Now he really needs a shower.
Bill glances over him, hands on his hips. “You look like a drowned rat.”
Dipper gives his husband the same lookover, slowly, to make a point. “You look like a burned one.” Bill’s suit is almost entirely ruined. “With jaundice.”
Bill makes a mock gasp of offense, clasping a hand to the remnants of his shirt. It’s quickly followed by the resurge of the grin.
“It mighta messed up my style a bit, sure.” Bill says with a shrug. The remnants of the yellow suit jacket cling to his elbows, and his hair’s a mess. “Yet somehow, I’m still better dressed!”
“That’s a matter of taste.” Dipper shakes his feet, trying to get some of the clinging water out of the cuffs of his pants. He knocks his shoes against the ground to clear some mud off. “Yours is bad.”
“This coming from the guy rocking ‘slime monster from the deep’.” Bill shakes his head. “That went outta style in the fifteen hundreds, easily.”
Dipper narrows his eyes, stalking closer until they could almost touch. He leans in, very close - Bill matches it, beaming with pleasure.
And with a satisfying ‘smack’, Dipper plants a palmful of mud right on his smug, asshole face.
Bill splutters, and Dipper trails muck down his body in a straight line. One heading right from his stupid face, down over all the clean bits of his shirt.
“I dunno, Bill.” Dipper says, taking a step back as Bill’s expression turns from surprise to absolute indignance. Now he’s the one smiling. “I think it suits you.”
Bill blinks for a moment. Mud dripping off his chin, annoyance sliding off his face.
His grin switches back on, wide and white.
“Oh, you’re gonna get it for that insult,” He purrs. Dipper tries to dart back, but Bill already has a grip on his waist. “Come here.”
Dipper kicks his legs, he struggles and he swears - This impossible, terrible monster picks him up again, swinging him around.
And he’s laughing, despite all of that, when Bill dunks him right back into the lake.
When they walk back to the Shack together, it’s long into the evening. The sun’s gone down, and the last bit of red is fading from the horizon.
Bill swings their joined hands, humming a tune to himself. The other one lights up the way back, a bright blue flame over his palm.
“Gotta love a good date,” He says, sounding deeply self-satisfied. The pace he’s taken is fast enough to make Dipper speedwalk. “It’s been too long!”
“You’ve been busy,” Dipper reminds him, nudging his husband with an elbow. Some crusted mud flakes off at the contact.
Bill breathes in, looking like he’s about to retort. Then sighs.
“Yeah, fine. Gotta give ya that one.” Bill’s mouth purses in irritation. “What can I say! I got a lot of plans that need attention right now.” His eye glimmers in the dark of the evening, gold and brightly lit. “A lot of plans.”
None of which he’s telling Dipper about.
“Have fun, I guess.” Dipper’s not going to ask. He knows better. “I hope you fail.”
Bill’s got his evil, demonic business - but to balance it out, Dipper’s got his own, human stuff. Sometimes, like their date, Bill even helps out with it. Despite being a demonic king of nightmares and torment, he’s easily coaxed into other stuff, if it’s entertaining.
Though sometimes, it only means spending time with Dipper.
Bill always claims he didn't have anything better to do. There’s no guessing how true that is.
“You’re a menace,” BIll says fondly, though his grin starts to fade. He slows in his tracks as the Shack comes into view in the distance. “And speaking of, I gotta get back.”
Dipper halts in place. Turning towards his demon with an incredulous look. “Again?”
A few days apart is okay, Dipper guesses. Pretty normal, they have their own stuff to do. They text or call everyday they can’t meet. That’s fine.
But it’s been way longer than a few days.
It’s been ages since they’ve even seen each other, much less hung out, and they’re married. They finally made time for a date, everything was going well, Dipper was… kind of expecting more to the evening -
And Bill’s just leaving? Now?
“I said I’m busy, sapling.” To his credit, Bill does sound like he regrets it. He winks, clicking his tongue. “I know, I know, you’ll miss me! Now c’mon, do the honors.”
The Mindscape, right. Sending him back to his realm of nightmares.
Dipper sighs. “Yeah, alright.” It’s part of their contract, anyway.
He sets a palm on Bill’s chest. It’s warm, with a rapid pulse under his palm. Some more mud flakes off from where it’s dried on the ruins of Bill’s shirt. He starts to concentrate -
“Ahem.” Bill clears his throat. One eyebrow raised. “Not the honors you should start with.” He leans in.
This time, Dipper leans away.
He knows what Bill wants. And he’s not doing it. Not in this state, and especially not when he’s ditching Dipper for some godawful reason.
Bill remains undeterred. “It’s demon stuff, Pine Tree,” He says, sounding a bit pouty. Knowing Dipper’s annoyed - but clearly not getting the reason, if he’s still taking off. “You don’t wanna hear it! Or get involved with it.”
And yeah, Dipper doesn’t.
That doesn’t mean he can’t hate it from afar.
Bill moves in for a kiss again, and Dipper turns away. Again. They’re both filthy and he doesn’t want mud in his mouth. Spite, though, is definitely part of it.
“I’ll see you later, Bill.” He says, and shoves his idiot husband back into his stupid demon realm.
Bill vanishes, instantaneously. Sometimes Dipper’s not a fan of the transition, it’s literally quick as thought - but this time it means Bill doesn’t get to try whatever excuse he was coming up with..
Dipper shoves his hands in his pockets, head down. Stalking back home, and frowning.
‘Demon stuff’.
Under any metric, their relationship is. Weird.
Dipper stumbled into the demon side flirtation, and Bill knows how humans do things. They’ve been meeting somewhere in the middle ever since. Dipper’s learned a lot, and Bill knows humans. He’s even willing to dip his own toes into the typical human stuff, with surprising insight and the appropriate success.
Bill was even having fun earlier, with purely human things, that - had some violence, admittedly.
But the explosion wasn’t what made Bill smile, and the litter of body parts didn’t make him laugh.
…Unless it did.
Dipper drags a hand over his face. He can’t deny that he’s hip-deep in the demonic side of relationships. It’s how they got their start.
No normal human would think exploding a corpse-eater was a date. It was demonic to its core -
…And. Not a great one, apparently.
Bill’s whole MO Is demonic stuff. He’s made for it, spent eons on it. It’s entertaining. Running off to do some ‘big plan’, sure, that makes sense for him. It’s more interesting.
Why his husband doesn’t rank on Bill’s priority list is-
Dipper drops his arm back to his side, before he burns another handprint into the doorframe.
Whatever version of demonic ‘seduction’ Dipper’s managed to cobble together. It must not be very compelling. Bill’s interested, sure - but not enough to linger once things get boring. He thinks it’s totally fine to just take off at any moment.
Dipper rubs at his eyes. He stands in the doorway of the Mystery Shack, looking up into the wooden slats of the ceiling.
But then Human romance never worked out for Dipper. Then demon romance.... Kind of did? By accident. Under anyone’s critique, he’d rank far below expert.
Maybe…
He’s missing something?
Obviously Dipper’s never going to catch Bill’s eye with human stuff, when it’s never worked on other humans - and while he’s gotten a hang of demonic flirting, he’s never been a dating expert.
Dipper drums his fingers against the doorframe, eyes narrowing.
If it weren’t for everything else he has at hand. He might have been at a loss. But part of being married to a demon, and visiting his infinite terrible realm, means Dipper can get to things no other human could.
He nods once. Firm, and certain, clenching a fist.
It’s time to do research.
-------------------------------------------------------
Finding information about demonic courtship ends up far easier than he expected.
And less convenient than he hoped.
Dipper should have remembered before he came up with this idea. His phone only works for contacting Bill whenever he wants. It’s powered by an infinite, triangular battery, its network hitching off a ride on a life-bond.
It made it easy to forget a very pertinent, pivotal point for his research.
There’s no internet in the Mindscape.
No demon worth their salt would give out free information. Sometimes they write things down, in diaries, dangerous tomes of spells, etcetera - but they’re hoarded like the precious things they are.
Instead, they go in hard on gossip. Everything’s up for trade as a favor, or used as a bribe. Knowledge is power, and in demon society? There’s always a power play going on. It’s a constant game of keeping their friends close, and their enemies closer. As far as Dipper can tell, the two are often the same thing.
Deals were completely off the table, for marriage reasons. Bribes were okay, but hard to figure out. It could even have dragged Dipper into demon drama, which is something even Bill avoids. It could have been an ordeal that came a huge cost, one he couldn’t - or wouldn’t - pay.
For once in Dipper’s life, he actually got lucky.
Turns out being Bill Cipher’s spouse opens all kinds of doors.
A few comments, a couple of bribes - snack cakes are popular, he’s noting this all down later to share with Ford - and a few memorized threats? All while name dropping Bill?
It got him everything he could ask for.
….Considering the topic, there might also be gossip going on - but he’ll deal with that later.
Right now, Dipper kicks his feet up on the ottoman, and clicks his pen. Notebook ready, research material at hand.
No other human has ever had this much demon-made writing to go through. Not without having their eyes burned out of their skull, or their soul taken in a bargain. Dipper spends a moment feeling proud.
It might be dangerous, but Dipper’s smart. He’s cautious. He’s got demon magic built right into his soul. He’s also got plenty of time, no sleep to worry about, and piles of resources, carefully gathered.
He’s got this.
Dipper picks a bit of spiderweb off the top magazine on his pile, and flips through it. Skimming over articles, pen at the ready.
And pauses.
He flips a couple more pages, leaning back a little in his seat.
This. Isn’t what he expected. It’s also not not what he expected, but. It might be a fluke, so he tosses that issue aside, picking up another.
Then another.
Dipper flips through a few more, with increasing desperation.
In every issue - in every magazine - The article titles shout back at him with their bright exclamation marks:
How To Get Them To Fight You In 10 Easy Steps!
Obtuse or A-CUTEY - How To Get In Shape For Summoning!
Top Twelve Exoskeleton Buffs for YOUR Intended!
Simple Ways To Even Out Your Angles In Just One Century !
Do They REALLY Hate You? Find Out With This Quiz!
Dipper rubs at his eyes.
Not… his best call. Getting his hopes up. Even thinking he’d get some kind of academic article was downright dumb. He knows that isn’t up most demon’s alleys.
Bill would know where to find studies, and statistics. If they exist. He likely has entire tomes on the subject, if only to laugh at them -
And he’s the last person Dipper can ask.
He ditches that idea, as well as the issue of Cosmophage he was skimming through. He picks up a Playbaal instead.
More of the same in this magazine. Though a lot more racy. Dipper makes a face at the letters to the executioner section - they’re gory and unbelievable. No human is that dumb, and that’s coming from him. Nobody offers themself up on a literal silver platter.
Two hours later, Dipper’s still made zero headway. He’s also slumped in his seat, almost lying down in the chair.
At this point, it’s getting boring.
He is learning a lot about demonic fantasies, and something of their proclivities - but he’d already known the basics. It’s only extrapolating from stuff he was already aware of, to absurd, insane degrees. It might as well be the internet for how true any of this bullshit sounds.
Dipper keeps flipping through them, out of sheer repetitive motion. In this one, there’s a couple glossy pages in the center, easily opening to lie flat in his lap.
He blinks. He stares.
Dipper sits up with a sharp jolt. After a moment, he shakes his head, centering himself.
Right. It’s. The pinup photo. Magazines have those.
He quickly checks the cover - it’s from about two hundred years ago. He makes a face. Still pretty weird.
…..He didn’t know Bill ever did that kind of thing.
In the photo, Bill - true Bill - lounges on his side, top point in his palm. His hat is off - weird - and there’s an artful drape of silk over where his tie should be. Or is? It’s impossible to tell if it’s on or not under the cloth. Likely that’s the point.
Dipper snorts, tapping the picture of Bill’s eye, twice. Then remembers - shit - startles, and claps the magazine shut, looking up and around.
Thank hell, he’s still alone. Bill must not have been paying attention.
God, if Bill caught him with this, he’d instantly make a whole host of assumptions, and grin like a maniac. Even worse, his ego would balloon into impossible dimensions.
Dipper thinks for a moment. Tapping the magazine on his lap. Then he shrugs, and carefully tears out the glossy photo pages.
If he hides this in the right place, Bill might find it within the month.
Dipper crumples the rest of the magazine into a ball, glaring off into the distance, before dropping off the side of his chair.
At least one good thing came out of this quote-unquote research. He’s barely learned anything. Other than that demons can be as absurd as humans, and he already knew that.
But.
There has to be something here. These wouldn’t be the most popular works about demonic romance, among demons, if they didn’t have some grains of truth buried within. He just has to find them.
He’s already mastered parts of demonic seduction. Even started doing the regular kind, a little. He’s probably better at it than any other mortal around.
But that isn’t going to work with Bill this distracted.
Dipper clicks his pen, heaves a long-suffering sigh - and starts taking notes.
He might as well try some new ideas.
Three Easy-Fake Injuries To Tempt YOUR Lover!
With a swear, Dipper stumbles, and falls. He hits the ground a little harder than he’d like, sucking in a breath through his teeth. “Shit.”
Bill’s attention snaps towards him instantly.
“What’s up?” Now he’s frowning, dropping his prey. “You trip or something?”
The demon Bill was berating shudders, sliding down to the floor in possibly boneless relief. They scuttle away over the black bricks on all twelve limbs.
“Mh,” Dipper grunts, shutting his eyes and hugging his leg himself. Keeping composed, and his face scrunched up. Holy shit, this actually worked - “Ow.”
"You gotta be the most unlucky human I've ever met." Bill stalks over, giving Dipper a derisive look. "Where'd you break this time?"
“Shut it.” Dipper says, annoyed. He couldn’t totally fake a fall, he’s not an actor. Bill would have seen through him immediately. Then admits, “It’s my ankle.”
Bill sighs, rubbing at his eye. His phone rings in his pocket, and he grumbles something inaudible. “Of all the-” He crouches down. “Alright, what’s the damage?”
“It’s fine,” Dipper says, honestly. Then Bill yanks his leg out of his grip, and okay, maybe this wasn’t the best approach.
DIpper winces, lying back on the floor. Bill rolls his eye, tugging his leg out further.
Adding some verisimilitude was the goal - but it ended up being a little too thorough. Bill glares at Dipper's ankle like it's insulted him, and Dipper finds himself doing the same. It's less painful than he's acting - but more than he wanted it to be. Which was any.
Though as long as he has Bill here…
As Bill examines him, Dipper shifts his other leg away. And maybe tilts back a little. When he scoots a little closer on the floor, it helps to ‘accidentally’ pull his shirt up a bit.
Bill hums for a long moment, eye narrowed as he toys with Dipper’s ankle, turning it this way and that. His eye flicks over Dipper, lighting up for a split second as it takes him in.
Then he sighs, and stands.
“Uh. Hey.” Dipper says. He clears his throat. Then smacks the floor next to him. “Bill, I’m really vulnerable here.”
“Eh, you’re fine. It’s not even a sprain!” Bill shrugs, apparently dismissing him. He turns and glares down the corridor, hands on his hips. “Where the hell did that caterer go?”
Dipper leans back, elbows on the floor and legs spread. Glaring as he watches Bill walk away without even another glance.
Okay, technically that worked. Temporarily.
But Bill’s too clever to be tricked by minor setbacks, and Dipper’s not willing to inflict something serious.
He’ll have to move on to something else.
Exotic Mortal Treats - GUARANTEED To Spice Things Up!
“So, uh.” Dipper winces at the crunching sounds. It’s louder than two granola bars combined. “How is it?”
“Mh.” Bill sucks some unidentifiable goo off his finger, pulling it out of his mouth with a pop. “Nice, sapling!” He grins, and winks. “You should bring me snacks more often.”
Dipper offers an awkward smile.
Bill shoves another scorpion in his mouth, and starts to crunch. His mood’s definitely picked up, at least. He starts picking some carapace from his teeth, leaning forward in concentration.
Beyond that, he doesn’t seem to react.
Dipper pulls a chair over. He scoots a little closer, watching Bill work with… whatever he’s working with. He clears his throat. “How are you feeling?”
Bill’s manipulating some magical array with stars and planets slowly rotating on a field. He makes a face at it, muttering under his breath.
“I’m feeling like some of these idiots should help out with the setup,” He says irritably, smacking the wheel of not-space and making it spin. A long line of celestial bodies Dipper can’t identify line up in a long string, and a beam of light shines through them to another point. “Who’s doing all the heavy lifting here, anyway?
Dipper shrugs. He gazes moodily into the empty terrarium.
So much for that advice. He might as well have bought a bag of chips. It’d have been way cheaper, and he’d actually be able to eat some.
Bill’s busy with his project, and Dipper’s taking a backseat to some demonic ongoings. Which is. Y’know. Fine. It’s part of their deal; they both get to do their own things.
Dipper taps his foot on the floor. Waiting.
But, no. There’s no reaction. Hell, now that he thinks of it - If this was going to have an effect, Bill knew what he was eating. He would have gotten the implication, first thing.
Eventually, Dipper sighs. He leans on Bill’s chair. “What kind of party is this?”
Bill looks up, one eyebrow raised. Somewhat surprised.
Dipper doesn’t budge. Nudging Bill, and staying firm. Which only makes Bill look more surprised.
Not without reason, either. Normally Dipper wouldn't want to know what Bill’s getting up to. They have kind of a live-and-let-live agreement regarding morality, each of them doing their own thing. Usually he prefers to not be in the loop.
This party has been interfering for way too long.
“Eh, it’s one of those cosmic convergence shindigs,” Bill says, and shrugs. He leans back in his chair, rubbing at his eye. “Not mine, technically. But it’s a big deal!”
Dipper glances over the map of celestial bodies, spinning again in the lit-up illusion.
Okay. Not a common occurrence. He’ll give it that. “...How often does this happen?”
“About once a millenia.” Bill stretches his arms behind his head, starting to smile again. One of his first loves - over-explaining. “I’ve hosted it the last twenty, thirty times? Something like that.” He buffs his nails on his shirt, looking proud. “Nobody’s got a better event plaza.”
So that’s it, then.
Dipper slumps back in his chair. He lets his arms drop to his sides.
Bill must get a text or something, because he checks his phone and starts frowning instantly. Starting to sulk a little as he fiddles with his map, and something else on a lit-up diagram. He makes a face, muttering under his breath about idiots, incompetents, and other idiosyncrasies.
…Setting up this party must be a headache and a half.
If it’s an event that only happens every thousand years, it’s got to be important. No wonder it’s taking up so much time.
On the upside, once this awful event is over with, it’s not going to come up again soon. Bill can’t get distracted by it - Hell, Dipper won’t even be around for the next one.
A thousand years is longer than Dipper can imagine. Ten times longer than he could ever live. A human’s life is pretty small, compared to most supernatural beings.
On the timespan Bill’s working with, it’s barely a footnote.
Demon events have gotten between them before. Dipper’s own plans have caused scheduling conflicts, too. Interruptions happen, life throws curveballs at them, and they both get busy -
But not for this long.
Dipper starts to say something - then hesitates. He’s not sure what to say.
Bill sticks his tongue out, his focus torn between something with that array of spinning stars, and texting someone back. He’s muttering to himself, frowning. A foot tapping the ground in irritation.
…As far as Bill’s concerned, Dipper might as well have faded into the background.
Dipper rests his chin in his hands. Waiting might be pointless, but. He’ll stick around for a bit. In case it works.
He wants Bill to throw him into a lake, or tell him he’s stupid, pick him up and insult him. Or at least care that he’s around when he’s sitting right there -
He drums his fingers on his knee, other leg jogging in place.
Bill doesn’t seem to notice.
Dating The Vain Type? How To Get ALL Their Attention on YOU
“This tie?” Bill holds one up in front of himself, facing the mirror. “Ooor this one?” He holds up another.
Dipper doesn’t say anything as he stalks into the bedroom, hands shoved in his pockets.
“Or this one!” Another tie pops up out of nowhere. “What’s a good look?”
Dipper shrugs. It doesn’t matter. Who cares, anyway.
“Speak up already, I need a second opinion!” Bill’s reflection in the standing mirror shows a slightly confused expression. “What’s with you?”
Dipper glares at his husband’s back, shrugging again. Bill makes a miffed sound, but so what?
All Bill cares about is this event he’s throwing. He’s complained about it for weeks now, he’s had plenty of time to prepare. One small human’s opinion isn’t going to matter.
And if Dipper has to hear one more word about this godawful party…
“It’s happening tonight, kid!” Bill jogs both tie options in his hands, prompting. “It might not be my favorite occasion - but that’s no excuse for not looking sharp!” He turns towards Dipper with a wink. “C’mon, what’s good?”
Dipper stalks over towards Bill, ignoring his questions and the weird look he’s being given. He knows he’s tense, that he’s stomping on the carpet, and that this is pretty stupid -
But it was in the article.
And he’s kind of wanted to do this before, anyway.
He meets Bill’s eye, flips him off - and shoves the stupid standing mirror over.
The entire thing, brass stand and all, goes toppling to the floor. The metal hits the ground hard, sending the mirror shattering into a million pieces - and Dipper jumps in place, startled.
Bill merely watches. A blank expression on his face, staring as his narcissistic toy gets moderately obliterated.
The brass stand clangs on the floor for a while, then settles down. There’s a brief silence.
Dipper takes a step back, awkwardly clearing his throat.
Shit, he thought that would be more durable. Most things in Bill’s place are impossible to break. Now there’s a billion tiny shards on the floor, glimmering up at him.
Though. The articles were technically correct. It did get Bill’s attention.
Dipper’s not sure what to say now.
Even Bill doesn’t have anything to say. He looks between the shattered mirror and Dipper, obviously surprised even seconds later.
“...I take it that’s a no on both of ‘em.” He says, eventually. The smile doesn’t make a return. He glances over, blinking rapidly. “What, did you wanna join the party?”
He’s still thinking about - how could he be -
Dipper clenches his fists.
Time after time after time, Dipper’s heard about the drinks selection for a party, or the guest list. Even the games Bill has planned. He can’t help but ramble in his enthusiasm, until Dipper either has to leave the room, or cover his ears against it.
There’s been none of that for this event.
It’s taken longer than every other one. It’s commanded too much of his time. Dipper hasn’t felt Bill watching him through either his regular gaze or his supernatural one, for weeks, and they only had one date this month.
Instead, Bill’s been doing setup - which he grumbles about - and worse, he’s had to organize. That always puts him in a bad mood. He’s bitched and complained, he’s made disgusted faces at his phone. He hasn’t rambled, or bounced in place. He hasn’t once looked happy about it.
Hell. It’s not even his in the first place.
“I don’t know why you’re spending so much time on this crap.” Dipper meets his husband’s eye. He throws his arms out, incredulous. “Bill, you don’t even like it.“
Bill, for once, doesn’t have a response.
He opens his mouth to say something - shuts it again. He blinks rapidly, expression changing as he tries to work something out - it turns into a grimace -
“I’m gonna go to take a bath.” Dipper says, shoulders rising - and stalks off.
Behind him, Bill remains silent. Thoughtful, and still.
-------------------------------------------------
Spending time at Bill’s place isn’t Dipper’s first preference. Spending time with Bill is the main reason to do so, because Dipper likes his time linear, his spaces Euclidean, and his company not cannibalistic. For every upside, there’s a definite down.
But if nothing else, the Fearamid has luxury in spades.
Dipper blows bubbles under the water of the bath. It staunchly refuses to stop being warm and comforting.
The stupid soap even smells nice; Bill must have changed out the options. Dipper knows Bill’s paid attention to some parts of what he wants, including the little things like ‘no more titan arum scented stuff’. He knows Bill’s made it slightly more human-safe, because none of the water comes out literally boiling anymore.
Dipper knows Bill knows these things. He knows a lot of things. Hell, he’s supposed to be ‘all-seeing’, so there’s no good reason some things still get overlooked -
He also knows he’s sulking.
Bill can’t read his mind. That’s been a fact from the start.
Without that advantage, Bill has to rely on all his other knowledge, and extrapolate. Most of the time he predicts him well enough that Dipper never gets a chance to speak up -
So it strangely sucks when he doesn’t.
Sulking’s good, though. Dipper manages some impressive bubble piles, sloshing around in the water.
He already knows what he should do. It’s the sensible thing. The human thing. It might even get Dipper what he wants, it just.
…Also kind of sucks.
If he stays any longer in the bath, his fingers are going to get all wrinkly. Or Bill will leave for the party, probably. He’ll miss his chance, and then, how will he bring up -
Wait.
There’s music, somewhat muffled through the wall between the bathroom and bedroom.
Dipper sits upright, shaking some bubbles off of his face with a frown.
Bill’s playing piano. Which is weird. He only does that when he’s relaxed, and lately he’s been anything but.
And if ever there was a sign, then he supposes this would be it. He tilts his head back, breathing in slowly.
There’s the music.
Time to face it.
Dipper gets out of the bath, sitting on the floor near the edge. Kicking idly in the water as the music continues. Something bright and jaunty. A tune of self-satisfaction, and a perkier mood. He spends more time than he should toweling off. Pacing, back and forth between the hundred baths on the floor and on the walls.
Eventually, he brushes his teeth, staring into a mirror that’s bigger than he is tall.
Dipper makes a face at his own reflection. Walking into the bedroom with that expression is going to let Bill catch on, fast.
….They should really be better at this.
It’s been years.
Whenever Dipper has to say something, it always comes out awkward. He doesn’t know how to do it right.
With Bill, he hasn’t had to come out and talk directly very often, which is something of a relief.
He guesses it’s not a surprise, really. They’re the worst combination for true sincerity - a socially awkward nerd, and emotionally stunted jackass. The fact that they get along at all is nothing short of miraculous.
They’ll just have to…Sort it out.
Dipper nods at his reflection. He takes a deep, calming breath, and lets it out.
The good news is he looks more certain than he feels, even as he heads towards the door.
Their bedroom is the same as always - once you allow for the fact that it changes on a whim, parts clicking in and out of place on sheer demonic will - and the carpet is soft on Dipper’s bare feet.
He drops the towel to the floor, and tries to finger comb his hair. It buys him time, while he thinks about how to start. He doesn’t want to turn towards Bill, feeling weird about their earlier interaction - but he glances over, just once.
Where Bill’s leaning from his perch on the piano bench, tilted at a dangerous angle.
Dipper looks away again, face feeling hot. He walks in a little further, and Bill tracks him, following his every move -
…How Bill keeps playing when nearly horizontal is a mystery.
On the plus side, Bill’s fine. Cheerful, for the first time in a while. And the mirror’s gone too, which is a relief. The tightness in Dipper’s chest loosens a bit.
Then he frowns, setting his hands on his hips.
Where the hell is the dresser with his clothes. Bill better not have vanished it again.
There’s a low whistle behind him.
“Shut up,” Despite himself, Dipper smiles. “You’ve seen me naked before.”
“And I’ll see it five thousand times more!” Bill changes the song he’s playing. It’s lighter, and brighter. “At minimum.”
Likely he’s right about that. Dipper wishes he had something to toss at him, but he already dropped the towel. He rubs at one of his arms.
Being eyed up is. Not weird, but oddly comforting. Bill always ogles him like a creep. Always wanting a peek, or a look, or suggesting revealing clothing with a smile and wink, like the jerk he is. Partly because he is kind of a creep, but mostly because -
Because Bill thinks he’s hot.
Even if Dipper knows he’s watching, Bill’s not going to stop watching, even if it’s awkward. Part of him must like the awkward, he’s never failed to find Dipper compelling, even when most human people would say he’s a huge dork.
Bill literally has his eye on him, all the time. Always wanting to know what’s on his mind.
Dipper rubs a thumb over his left palm, and hears Bill make an annoyed sound. In his mind, he’s shouting at himself.
Why did he bother with ‘research’? He was overthinking, again. He always does this. Which, if he’s right, and Bill likes it - must be extremely compelling.
Behind him, Bill makes a curious noise. The bench makes a creak as he scoots over.
And Dipper shifts from foot to foot.
If he’s going to do this, then. Second-guessing himself is going to get them nowhere.
And all that demonic advice was terrible.
Obvious Come-on? More Like Obvious Turn-off - 10 Mistakes To Avoid!
For the second time tonight, Dipper does something he’s wanted to do before.
Damn it, he doesn’t know what a seductive slink should look like. They’ve done it a lot, Bill’s never complained - but Dipper’s never intentionally looked sexy.
In the end, he doesn’t bother. A walk is fine, if it gets him where he needs to be.
Bill doesn’t move from his seat on the bench. He straightens up as Dipper approaches, looking pleased. He tracks Dipper until it’s impossible - he can’t turn his head 180 degrees.
Once Dipper’s behind his target, he shuts his eyes. He’s got this. This will work - reassuring himself, while Bill keeps playing. Though his head is slightly tilted, listening. Expectant.
Bill isn’t expecting Dipper to drape himself over his shoulders. His shoulders rise as Dipper wraps his arms around them. There’s a sharp intake of breath.
“Sorry about the mirror.” Dipper squeezes his idiot husband, tight. Likely Bill doesn’t care, but someone has to have morals in this relationship.
“I don’t care,” Bill says, very dry. Dipper can almost feel him roll his eye. Bill’s chest puffs out a bit as his posture changes, and there's a smirk in his voice. “Nice you’re still here, sapling.”
Dipper breathes in, and lets it out.
Slowly, he runs a hand over Bill’s chest. The shirt is thin enough that he can feel the warmth underneath, easily - and Bill’s not wearing his tie. By his standards, he’s already a quarter naked.
So. This isn’t that weird. Half of the work is done for him.
When Dipper starts unbuttoning Bill’s shirt, he misses several notes.
“Hello,” Bill says, a bit distant sounding - before realizing that response was semi-brainless; he shakes his head. Looking down at his slowly opening shirt. “What’s this about?”
“I’m getting your attention.” Dipper smacks him on the side. Now that the shirt is half opened, he slides a hand underneath the fabric. “Jerk.”
“Done,” Bill sits up straight, raising his hands like he’s held at gunpoint. Dipper slides a hand over the warm skin of his chest, feeling the heart pick up its pace. “Actually, you can have all of it!”
And when Dipper strokes a thumb over a nipple, Bill gives a full-body shudder, and a soft sound from the back of his throat.
Holy shit, it did work. It’s working perfectly - Dipper feels a surge of triumph.
Not only did this do the trick, it was easy. It was simple. It’s even fun to slide his palm over Bill’s chest, to toy with a nipple, listening to him grunt a little and start clasping Dipper’s arm.
Bill thinks he’s hot, after all. Bill wants him.
Why did he think he needed to make it complicated?
Dipper presses a few kisses onto Bill’s neck, feeling his chest still in a held breath - then moves onto the shell of Bill’s ear. He draws the earlobe into his mouth, biting gently.
“And come to think of it…” Bill’s tense, muscles drawn tight. Like he wants to surge up, while also not moving away. He raises one imperious finger, his voice is slightly rough. “I have been meaning to lavish my attentions on someone, recently.”
“Good plan.” Dipper hugs Bill tighter, then adds, “Since I wasn’t giving you a choice,” As he drags Bill backwards off the bench.
Bill nearly falls on his ass. Grabbing onto Dipper’s arms as he struggles to find balance, squirming in the grip, even the piano bench gets kicked over -
And all the while, he laughs like a maniac.
He’s too quick, though. After only one severe stumble, Bill’s back on his feet before Dipper can react.
Bill seizes Dipper in an instant, gripping his upper arms tight. His grin maniac, and his eye glowing bright. “Oh, sapling.” His voice is a low hum, teeth white and bared. “I'm gonna make you pay for that.”
“You can try.” Dipper says. He gets a grip on Bill’s lapels, hauling him in until they’re face to face.
God, finally. This is what he wanted, and it came so easily. Not only that, it’s way more fun than -
Bill’s phone starts ringing again.
Both of them glance down. Bill grimaces. He stops petting Dipper’s side to pull the offending item out of his pocket and glare at it. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
And Dipper… lets his arms drop.
Another interruption, for an important event. Bill’s powerful, but even he can’t change time, not in any meaningful way.
Priorities mean that. Something else gets put on the sidelines.
“Screw ‘em.” Bill declares suddenly, and hurls his phone across the room.
Dipper looks up just in time to catch the motion, as the offending object cracks against the wall over the headboard, bouncing onto the bed.
“Total waste of my time.” Bill brushes his hands off, dismissive. “If they can’t pull the convergence off without me, they didn’t deserve it in the first place.”
“Oh thank god.” Dipper didn’t mean to say that out loud - but now Bill’s looking at him weird, so he adds. “You’re not going.”
“Decided not to half an hour ago,” Bill says, with a shrug. That’s why his mood has picked up - Dipper stands a little straighter. “They shoulda gotten the picture when things got started without me.”
It’s already started. Bill should be there, and he’s spent a lot of time on this thing - Dipper hesitates. “Are you sure?”
“Definitely! You see- Hm.” BIll starts, then hems and haws. He’s also, very unsubtly, backing Dipper towards the bed. He takes a few moments, face scrunched up, before admitting, “You had a decent point.”
Dipper blinks for a moment. Wow. Now that’s rare.
But he’s not too surprised to let it slide.
As Bill pushes, Dipper lets his feet dig into the carpet, and adds a palm on Bill’s chest. It draws them to a slow halt. “You’re serious.”
“As a broken femur.” Bill declares. He squeezes Dipper’s waist, while a smile creeps back onto his face. “I’ve hosted this shindig nearly two dozen times, and every millenia they make it more of a drag.” He sticks his tongue out - then chucks Dipper gently under the chin. “Quick life tip, kid - if it sucks, stop doing it!”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Dipper grabs onto Bill’s lapels again. There’s a smile threatening to emerge. Though, admittedly, he could be trying harder to hold it back.
“Good choice! It’ll keep ya from getting stuck in a routine.” Bill shudders dramatically, and starts backing Dipper up again. After a second he pauses - and presses a quick, wet kiss on Dipper’s forehead. “Your little reminder came in handy.”
Dipper reaches up from Bill’s lapel, and cups his cheek. Feeling his demonic grin widen under his palm - and feeling oddly touched.
Though he knows Bill can be fooled, it doesn’t make the rare moments when he is less surprising. Knowing that Dipper was right feels triumphant, and good. Knowing that Bill could have gotten stuck without a reminder.
It's also a reminder for Dipper. He is smart, and Bill likes that -
Dipper��s legs hit the edge of the bed, and he jabs his husband in the chest. Very lightly, not more than a prod. "Not going to miss the party?"
“Hardly! That crap’s about as amusing as paperwork.” Now Bill’s grin is truly, monstrously wide. He tilts Dipper over the bed, gripping tight to his waist - and winks. “I’d have way more fun playing with a drowned rat.”
“Asshole,” Dipper says, and kisses him.
Bill returns it with enthusiasm. More than a bit of groping. A slow lean over, that Dipper lets happen until he’s nearly horizontal, only his grip on Bill’s shirt keeping him upright.
Part of him feels warm, and good. Another wants to push Bill on the bed, but mostly he’s amused, because Bill messed up.
He went and admitted something.
“You can’t take it back now, Bill.” Dipper sits down on the bed, escaping Bill’s grasp. Albeit temporarily. As Bill pouts over his temporary loss of prey, Dipper smiles, and jerks a thumb at himself, “You think I’m fun.”
“Eh, I’ve met worse.” Bill takes a hold of Dipper’s shoulders, slowly eyeing him up and down. “If I knew how fun you were gonna turn out in bed, I woulda kept you all to myself.” He kisses Dipper once, then moves onto his cheek, and his neck, leaning him further onto the bed. “Shoulda taken you back home and never let you leave.”
“So. Kidnapping, basically.” Dipper braces his elbows on the bed, letting Bill work over his neck, then his shoulder - then grimaces. “That… would have been a disaster.”
If Bill pulled that, Dipper would have been too alarmed to respond the way Bill wanted. Taken away from his home to a strange place. By a total stranger, with unknown motives. Not to mention how Bill back then was… not the worst about bedroom things, but he was still a major asshole. Between Bill’s brash confidence and Dipper’s paranoid anxiety, that entire thing would have been -
“See, this is why playing doctor didn't work out, Mr. ‘I need to see your medical license’.” Bill smacks Dipper’s hip twice. It pulls him back into the moment. Bill raises an eyebrow. “It’s a game, sapling. Don’t take it so seriously.”
Damn it, he has a point. Roleplay always falls apart once Dipper starts picking at it; it doesn’t kill the mood, exactly. But it rarely works as intended.
Dipper wants this to continue. He wants to have fun, he wants to have sex, and Bill’s ideas are usually good in that regard -
Screw it, it is just a game. No reason to make it too complicated.
In essence, it’s pretty standard ‘ravishing by a demon’, and they’ve done that before. This time it’s with a distinct twist, one he hasn’t considered - Dipper glances down at himself - and his traitorous dick is responding.
He wonders if he should have brought the collar. But technically speaking, if he was just kidnapped he wouldn’t have that yet. That’d be something Bill would give him later on, after -
Also, he might be overthinking again.
Maybe he should stop doing that.
“Alright, I’m into it.” Dipper admits. He spreads his arms wide with a shrug. “Have at me.”
“Great!” Bill beams, clapping his hands together. “Then let’s get our party started.”
And without warning, Bill hauls him up, lifts him bodily and chucks him onto the mattress. Dipper bounces in place, getting his bearings as Bill eases his way onto the bed. And over him.
“Glad to have you here, Pine Tree.” Bill leans in, bearing an ominous smile and too many levels of smug to unravel. He has more presence than he deserves. “You didn’t make that easy.”
“Why would I?” Dipper says, keeping his voice level. Slipping into the role is easy; and glaring is practically a habit. “You kidnapped me.”
“Chin up, sapling.” Bill says with a smile. Taking Dipper’s chin in hand, he tilts him up to meet his eye. “You’re really gonna like what’s in store.”
“Cipher,” Dipper hisses, gripping the sheets tight. He scrambles back on the bed, slow enough to let Bill follow at a crawl. “Whatever you’re planning, you won’t get away with it.”
“Is that so?” Bill raises an eyebrow. Eying Dipper, up and down with a slowly growing smirk. “You’re a little underdressed for thwarting, kid.”
Dipper jerks back, indignant. “You stole my clothes.”
The accusation in his voice isn’t entirely feigned. The dresser was gone when he came back from his bath, damn it. He should have noticed. He tries to haul the sheets up around himself, but their mutual weight stops him.
“Surprise!” Bill says delightedly. He wiggles his fingers at Dipper, sitting up on his knees. “I’ve had my eye on you for a while.”
Dipper manages to turn his laugh into a grunt, close-lipped.
“What do you want from me?” He presses his back against the headboard. Retreating was useless - Bill only needs to lean in and he’s caged in by his arms.
“Hm. Decent brains, interesting body - way more into demons than you’d admit,” Bill says, nonchalant. One hand presses Dipper’s hip down firmly, holding him still. A thumb traces over his skin, a short distance away from his rising cock. “And packed chock full of lust.”
“That’s not an answer.” Dipper’s face is red now. He braces his arms against the wood behind him. “I’m not -” But that’s visibly a lie - “I mean. What does lust have to do with-”
“Oh, you and I are gonna do some things!” Bill’s thumb slides over the soft skin on the inside of his thigh. The other hand rises, and snaps its fingers. “Lots of things.”
Sudden, rapid thumping makes Dipper nearly jump off the bed, as a shower of ropes, sex toys, and other lewd accoutrement plummet out of nowhere.
A dildo poings off his thigh, and something rubbery bounces off the mattress and rolls off the side. There’s a scatter of ropes at the foot of the mattress, while leather manacles manifest on the headboard.
Dipper gives all of it a cursory look. Then another, more cynical one at his idiot husband.
“Pretty much all of these things.” Bill says, with no shame whatsoever. He grins down at Dipper like he’s about to unwrap a present. “Along with everything else I can think of!”
“Now I get it.” Now Dipper’s glaring in earnest. A few things would make sense, fine. This is just overkill. “You’re a pervert.”
“Takes one to know one!” Bill grabs Dipper’s shoulders and pulls, startlingly fast. Dipper’s head thumps softly against the pillow. His legs are spread around Bill now, and there’s a palm planted on the center of his collarbone. “Glad you could join me.”
Dipper grabs onto Bill’s wrist with both hands, squirming under the weight. He tugs, but not hard. “Why would I sleep with you?”
“To have the most fun of your life, duh.” Bill says magnanimously. He looms over him, pressure building on Dipper’s chest from his weight. Bill grins down at him, teeth bared in a vicious smile. “We’re gonna have a great time together.”
Dipper shuts his eyes.
With Bill over him like this, dangerous, half-feral, and smug - that sends a tremor through him, going right to his dick.
“See? I knew you’d like this, sapling.” Bill beams, and takes Dipper’s cock in his hand. Not firmly, just… touching. Hot enough to be tempting, loose enough to make Dipper want more of it.. “I’ve seen your dreams.”
“You-” Dipper can’t think of much to say. He lets go of Bill’s wrist, holds onto his arm instead. There’s a retort, somewhere. Except Bill knows how to touch him, and he’s stroking in earnest now, moving faster, holding tighter- “Damn it.”
“You’re real interested in demons. A downright obsession, some might say.” Bill’s voice is low in Dipper’s ear. He nips at it once, thumb spreading wetness over the head of Dipper’s dick. He rolls it around, listens to the groan - and chuckles. “Imagination doesn’t compare to the real thing, does it?”
God, Bill’s warm, and he’s talking, the bastard. That’s never good for Dipper’s stamina. Even worse, Bill slows down, staying firm enough to make him - Dipper pushes his hips up into Bill’s circling fingers- “Ah.”
“Feels good, I know!” Bill starts chuckling. He squeezes again, smacking Dipper’s thigh, just near his butt. “And there’s more where that came from.”
Dipper clamps his mouth shut. Adding a palm over it, for extra coverage. Another sound escapes, softer this time. He grits his teeth and turns his head, he can’t watch if he wants to last longer. “You’re - too much.”
“Oh, please. We’ve barely gotten started! You don’t know what you’re really in for.” Bill says with pleased fondness. He lets go suddenly - Dipper tries to chase his hand for a second, then balls his fists in the sheets. Bill’s sudden grin is feral, and smug. “Lemme give you another taste.”
Dipper props himself up on his elbows. watching Bill duck down. Starting to plant kisses down his stomach, tongue trailing over his skin. He’s-
Dipper swallows, he tenses his thighs. Bracing for the inevitable.“Oh god.”
If Bill’s hand is unfair, his mouth is worse. He doesn’t give Dipper a break, just sucks him in. Too hot, extremely wet, with tongue sliding up the underside of his dick that takes Dipper’s breath away.
“That’s-” The groan Dipper lets out is wholly his own. “Fuck you, that’s not.” He needs to take time to breathe, going tense. He slides fingers into Bill’s hair, feeling them shake on his scalp. “That’s not fair.”
Bill hums a laugh - the vibration makes Dipper’s mind go blissfully blank - then reaches up. Dipper already has a loose hold on his hair, but Bill tugs his hand closer.
“God.” The prompt is obvious. That's what Bill wants - and Dipper sits up. Bill’s tough, he can handle anything, including Dipper. He wants him to fuck his mouth, to pull his hair - a little pain, Bill loves that - and when he does, Bill lets out a moan that would be obscene in any context.
Dipper curls around Bill, gripping tight in his hair, pulling him down sharply and eyes rolling back as Bill just. Takes it. It’s heat and wet and good, it’s been too long, Bill’s firm tongue working clever designs on his dick as he rises back up -
And pulls away, the asshole. He watches Dipper whine, dick hard and red and needy - and merely laughs.
“How many times have you jerked off thinking about that?” Bill asks, grinning. Dipper feels heat rush to his face - “Been a while, huh?” Bill takes his cock in hand again, starting to stroke, slow and lazy and absolutely not helping the heat Dipper feels, in his chest and in his groin - “Don’t worry, kid! It’s gonna be way better with me helping out.”
Which is right, but only because Bill already knows which buttons to press. Where to touch. He never shuts up and he knows what ideas will make Dipper think too much.
Dipper shudders. He hasn’t been touched in a while, and this is helping in ways he didn’t realize. Bill shouldn’t leave him like this, and he really wouldn’t if given the chance, doing all kinds of things to him. Like this tight grip, this surge inside him, building to -
“Wait.” He fumbles, gripping tighter on Bill’s shirt, breathing faster now. Feeling himself twitch, the heat rising in his groin, quicker than he wanted. “Wait. I’m-”
“You don’t even have words for the ways I’m gonna make you come,” Bill’s voice is a low purr in his ear, tight pressure on his dick, Bill never stops talking, it does horrible things to Dipper’s imagination - “Not stopping ‘till you’re a completely fucked out wreck.”
He would, he will - he’d make Dipper take his fingers and his cock, he’d touch him everywhere, until he -
Swears. Dipper arches up, gasping, coming in Bill’s hand, grabbing at his shirt, at his shoulders. Bill grins wide, palm cupped over his cock, catching his release.
He’s still chuckling to himself as Dipper drops back against the mattress. Blinking, slowly, at the ceiling.
Okay.
Not… the longest Dipper’s lasted. But it has been a while.
Bill hums a low, pleased tune, kissing Dipper on the temple, then the cheek. He leans back a bit - then cocks his head to the side as he looks at his palm.
“Seriously, though - you were really pent up.” Bill raises an eyebrow, breaking character for a moment. He examines the results with amusement, then takes a quick lick before wiping his hand on the sheets. “You shoulda said something.”
Dipper sighs. This jackass. “I was trying to.”
A light clicks on in Bill’s head. He sits up, suddenly alert. Eye darting around, thoughts racing - and he looks back down at Dipper.
Dipper doesn’t meet that golden gaze. He clears his throat, covering his eyes with his arm. Suddenly he’s embarrassed.
Bill’s not stupid. He noticed Dipper’s attempts; he could hardly miss the obvious. None of them were normal to begin with. They probably weren’t that common for demons, come to think of it - and zero of them are things Dipper would come up with on his own.
“Pretty strange approach you took there,” says Bill, patting Dipper’s thigh. He tilts his head to the side curiously, and his eye narrows. “What put those ideas in your head?”
There’s a very tiny, miniscule amount of tension in the question. Dipper thunks his head against the pillow, rolling his eyes.
Bill’s probing at something most people wouldn’t consider. But spend enough time in a demon realm, and well - Bill’s not entirely wrong to worry that Dipper might have been messed with. It’s just…
Dipper sighs. He knows what the reaction will be. But. He should say it now, too, before Bill gets the wrong idea.
“Um,” He says. Tapping two fingers together, and offering an awkward smile. “Demon Cosmopolitan.”
Bill blinks for a moment.
"Shut it." Dipper says. Already pre-annoyed.
“Mh.” Bill’s lips are pressed tightly together. “Mhm.” Amusement scrunching up his face, clearly holding back. He lets out a loud ‘pfffft’, shoulders rising.
“Demon dating advice sucks,” Dipper insists.
Bill’s amusement is irrepressible. Even though he nearly chokes holding it back, it breaks through - and he starts laughing outright.
Dipper swats at him, not very hard. He has to admit it wasn’t his greatest move.
“I can see it already!” Bill rolls off him, raising his arms in the air. “You doing your ‘research’!” He sterns his expression, a mimicry of Dipper’s - though his thinking face isn’t that dumb looking - and clicks an invisible pen. Nodding to himself, very seriously. “Gotta take notes on this copy of Playbaal.”
“It’s not that funny,” Dipper mutters. Not that it stops Bill. He straddles this jerk instead, and thumps him on the chest.
Another note to make - burn the notebook before Bill finds it.
Bill’s always too pleased with himself, including his own jokes. His dumb, shitty quote-unquote 'impression' has amused him to the point where he’s lying back, arms over his chest. Cackling at his own cleverness.
Accurate or not - which it wasn’t - it’s still really goddamn stupid.
Dipper rolls his eyes, feeling Bill’s stomach bounce with laughter under the palm of his hand. No point in protesting. Let him have his fun.
Still annoying though.
Bill himself looks pretty stupid, anyway. Splayed out on the mattress like that. His shirt half-undone, his hair slightly mussed. An obvious tent in his pants.
…Clearly distracted.
Dipper looks around at the toys strewn on the mattress. At the headboard, and Bill’s arms.
Now a thought’s brewing, in his own head. A tempting one.
Not that long ago, Bill started proposing new ideas. Dipper hasn’t had too many himself, he’s less experienced in this area. And while Bill makes bedroom stuff easy, as much as he can, Dipper’s still… awkward in general.
Even so - Inexperienced or not - He'd be an idiot to miss this opportunity.
Dipper crawls over his idiot husband, sitting down on his stomach with aplomb. Bill perks up, even as a bit of breath huffs out from the impact. He also raises his arms to get them out of Dipper’s way, which is perfect.
Dipper lets his fingers trail up one of them, lifting it by the wrist -
Where some experience comes in handy.
If he hadn’t been on the other side of this before, he wouldn’t know how to do it so quickly.
“Hello there,” Bill says, grinning wider now. He glances down at Dipper’s hips, so close to his face now. “Nice to see ya.”
“Uh huh.” Dipper’s trying for subtlety, he doesn’t have a witty retort. He’s busy sliding fingers up Bill’s other bicep.
Said subtlety instantly fails, as Bill tries to grab his butt, only to be held up with a jolt. His eye goes wide, he snarls and yanks again, torso jerking upwards with his sudden surge. He nearly rises off the mattress, even with Dipper sitting on top of him.
Dipper tightens his legs, keeping himself steady. Blinking in surprise.
Bill nearly bucked him completely off, which is. Not… really the reaction he expected. The second arm is free, and it’s gripping Dipper’s thigh, tight -
While Bill’s dominant hand is neatly tucked into the leather manacle.
After a second, Bill tilts his head back. Tugs his arm a few times, almost testingly - then looks up at Dipper with surprise.
“What?” Dipper asks. They’ve done… stuff before. He didn’t expect that much of a reaction.
“Huh.” Bill says, calmer now. Then, frowning slightly. “Huh.”
“What?”
“Huh.” Bill says again, with the usual amount of helpfulness. Looking less annoyed, and more contemplative. He purses his lips, tapping the manacle thoughtfully. “Gotta say that’s a first.”
Oh.
All of the awkwardness Dipper was repressing surges back to the forefront.
Okay, that’s. He didn’t - well maybe he did think - was he thinking at all, holy shit -
“Um.” Dipper hesitates. What does he do now, besides lean over to touch Bill’s forearm. “Is this-”
Somewhere in the sheets, Bill’s phone starts ringing again.
Bill lets out a disgusted groan, thunking his head against the pillow. Dipper starts scowling.
Bill twists one way, then another, looking for the source, while Dipper feels around for the damn thing without giving up his seat, fumbling in the silk. He finds it half-under Bill’s back, just next to his knee.
Dipper fishes the phone up, and glares at it. Ringing, incessantly, with the same stupid ringtone. Likely it’s important. Something going wrong, or going right. Another demonic thing that’s demanding Bill’s attention.
They don’t know they have competition.
Dipper picks up the call, tucking the phone against his ear. He feels Bill take in a sharp breath under him.
“Fuck off.” Dipper says in clipped tones, before the being on the other end can say anything. He glares down at Bill, squeezing his chest between his legs. Almost daring him to interject. “He’s busy.”
There’s a sound on the other end of the call - but Dipper’s already hung up, and thrown the stupid phone right to the floor.
Underneath him, Bill’s eye goes wide, blinking fast. It also starts glowing bright gold.
Dipper runs a hand through his hair, and tries not to feel awkward about that.
He isn’t really… Being forceful isn’t how he usually goes about things. But they’ve had enough interruptions from that godawful party already, and this one felt all too personal.
Bill shifts suddenly in place. Enough that Dipper has to steady himself, jolting back to the present.
Shit. Right, he’s got to get back to Bill. Who’s -
No longer thinking, apparently. He’s come to a decision with his usual speed. Bill’s propped his other wrist against the empty manacle. Hell, he’s halfway slid it into the thing, waiting for the clasp to be shut.
He’s also wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Dipper snorts in amusement, and says, “Okay.”
He leans forward again. There’s an odd flutter inside as he sets Bill’s other wrist in the manacle. As he sets the clasp, and tightens it. Fiddling with the leather is a decent excuse not to see the results, just yet.
Bill gives it an experimental tug, face changing as he thinks - then shrugs, and relaxes back on the bed. Humming a little tune to himself.
Dipper sits back. He swallows, though his mouth feels dry.
Right.
There’s Bill, underneath him. That body, warm muscle shifting against his thighs as Bill gets comfortable. A heartbeat, if Dipper presses a palm against his chest. His arms flex in the restraints, muscles tensing and shifting around before they relax again.
He’s… Not, exactly, at Dipper’s mercy, because Bill’s too strong, he could break out - hell, he made those restraints, they don’t have to exist, he could escape at any time - But.
Dipper licks his lips. Normally he’s good with ideas. It’s not working right now.
Bill. Held back for once. Powerful, impossible, insane - and lying there on the bed, grinning at Dipper. Waiting for him. That hat half-opened shirt exposing his chest, like an invitation to explore.
When Bill Cipher is.. is trapped like this, Dipper’s free to touch him wherever he wants. Or - or not touch him, if he wants, or only at the right moments, teasing until he’s the one shaking with sensation for once. Dipper could do pretty much anything, and Bill’s looking up at him, head slightly tilted to the side, like he expects him to-
“Um.” Dipper sits in place, blinking, at a loss. It’s like his brain has short-circuited, repeating the same thoughts in a circle.
After a second, Bill shrugs. “Well, well, well. Guess my new pet has a couple of tricks up his sleeve.” He lies back on the bed, nonchalant. He tilts his head back to examine his nails, since his hands are raised over his head. “What do you think this little stunt is going to accomplish?”
Dipper narrows his eyes.
If that’s the game, then…
“Who’s captured who now, Cipher?” He jabs a thumb at himself, starting to smile again. He shifts back, settling down on Bill’s thighs. “Guess I was smarter than you thought.”
“If you were real smart you’d be running.” His sneer belies the tent in his pants, hips shifting up as Dipper moves closer. “You know what happens to mortals who try to bind demons?”
Dangerous, always. Deadly, usually. If there’s even one fault in the binding. Even the slightest mistake - and the demon bursts free, able to wreak whatever havoc they like - usually on the hapless mortal who tried to keep them bound.
In this case, Dipper’s feeling very reckless.
“I’m not running away from all the secrets of the universe,” Dipper says. He feels oddly light inside, excitement building as he starts to undo the rest of Bill’s shirt. Fumbling, slightly, his fingers are uncoordinated. “You’re gonna tell me everything.”
“Ha! You’ve got no leverage, kid. Nothing to offer, no way to convince - and you don’t seem like the torturing type to me.” Bill eyes his progress, mouth quirked up with amusement. “Watch the fabric, that’s expensive.”
“Oh, I can make you talk..” Dipper rips the rest of his shirt open. The last couple buttons bounce off into the room, and Dipper slides his hands up that chest, down again to Bill’s stomach. It’s all smooth skin, hot to the touch - “The hard part is getting you to shut up.”
Bill lets out a sharp laugh. Being an asshole doesn’t mean he’s not self-aware. Dipper forces a smile off his own face.
When Dipper undoes Bill’s belt, he chuckles. When Dipper tugs the pants down, underwear and all, he lifts his hips to let them slide off. Bill even kicks the fabric off his legs, too, which is helpful; Dipper didn’t want to fiddle with that part.
It leaves Bill naked, except for the still-opened shirt. Fully hard, cock resting on his stomach; still grinning, and still impenetrably smug.
Dipper narrows his eyes, trying to keep his face stern. Squeezing Bill’s thigh, and feeling the muscle jump under his palm.
“I get it.” He says, shifting lower. His hands stroke the inside of Bill’s thighs, up his hips. “The great Bill Cipher thinks he can resist anything.”
“Sure can!” Bill grins, head rising to track Dipper’s descent. He shifts his legs apart, making it easy to kneel between them. “I can’t imagine you’ve got anything in stor-”
Dipper ignores him. He keeps his eyes on Bill, tongue flickering out. A quick, wet thing, licking against his length..
“Nh.” Bill grunts. Eye fluttering shut, he swallows visibly. "Taking a new tactic, huh.” The smirk returns, sharper now. “That's hardly fair!"
“All's fair in lust and war.” Dipper recites the old demonic phrase. He pulls Bill’s cock upright, watching him suck in a breath - and smiles. “You're going to do what I want."
“You can try,” Bill purrs. His teeth are bared in his wide, pleased smile. “Do your worst.”
Taking Bill in his mouth is a guilty pleasure. Not that he should feel guilty, as Bill’s often repeated, with great enthusiasm - but Dipper groans as he takes Bill in, hand gripping the base of his cock.
It’s hot and hard, twitching again as Dipper idly rolls his tongue around. He opens up, mouth drawing in the thick length of him, cheeks hollowing out. Bill lasts a whole ten seconds before his hips rock up into it; a couple quick jerks. Soon he’s trying to fuck into his mouth, bracing a foot on the mattress, knee raised.
Dipper pulls back and plants a kiss on the head. Underneath him, Bill swears and his hips hit the mattress with a thump. He’s slightly pink in the face, arms tense and eye shut.
Teasing. Taunting. Downright tormenting - now he sees what Bill sees in this.
The appeal.
He licks his lips as he draws back, to see Bill’s cock jump in place, a muscle in his thigh twitch rapidly - then taking it back in, groaning around Bill’s cock as his hips make short, desperate motions..
Bill wants to fuck his mouth, he needs to feel more - he can take it, he’s immortal, but Dipper can too, he’s good at this - undulating his tongue on the underside as Bill hits the back of his throat, and hearing a loud, breathless swear.
Bill might be all-knowing, all-powerful, and all-too-put together in most situations.
He’s not now.
Instead, he’s swearing, low. Repeating and the same word, over and over again. His face is flushed and his chest heaves, rising and falling with heavy breaths. He’s starting to sweat a little, turning his head to the side, trying so hard not to admit he loves this.
There’s pleasure in seeing Bill come so undone by this. Pleasure in knowing that he’s doing this, and fuck, it is good to suck his cock, Dipper’s already getting hard again himself.
“You-” There’s a clang on the headboard as Bill tries to reach out, and gets held up. He swears again, under his breath. “Gnh.”
Dipper draws away. But he takes it slow, drawing it out far longer than Bill did. Bobbing back down briefly, and feeling Bill try to stay in until Dipper finally lets his cock fall from between his lips, dropping wet and throbbing onto Bill’s stomach.
“Is it good?” He asks. He strokes Bill’s length a couple times, watching Bill shudder. Bill lets his head drop back on the pillow, grunting something incoherent. One of his legs is shaking in place, not quite kicking out.
“You can come in my mouth, if you want.” Dipper says, hearing Bill make a soft groan, nearly needy - but wait, right, the roleplay - “Just tell me what I want to hear.”
Bill bares his teeth. Breathing slower now, like he’s controlling it. His eye darts around under the closed lid, jaw tense.
Dipper licks up the underside of his dick, kissing just under the head. Bill’s cock twitches again, and he keeps up his assault with no small amount of pride.
There’s no way Bill can resist much longer. He’s already so close.
Bill breathes in, and lets it out, shuddering and slow. He pauses for a long moment. Then, slowly, he looks up from his pillow.
“You…” Bill starts. His tongue flicks out over his lips, and he flashes his most charming smile. “Are so goddamn good at this.”
Dipper feels a burst of embarrassed pleasure. He ducks his head a little, trying not to smile. “Um.”
There... There’s usually a retort Dipper can offer. But that wasn’t an insult. So. “Um.” He repeats, like an idiot.
Underneath him, Bill’s smile slowly, smugly widens into a full-blown grin.
“So, yeah,” Bill makes a dismissive gesture with his bound hands. “Go ahead, take your time! I could watch you sucking me off all day.” He settles down on the sheets. Acting perfectly relaxed - though his cock tells a different story. “You’re giving me enough jerk off material for eons.”
“Bastard.” Dipper’s really trying not to smile, and he knows his face is red. Even his ears feel hot by now. “You’re-”
He stops. The protest dies before it fully forms.
Because Dipper knows Bill. All his tells. When Bill’s bending the truth, or when saying something he doesn’t believe. When he’s straight-up lying it’s obvious, and Dipper could pinpoint a misleading phrase from a mile.
This time, Bill’s not lying. It’s true.
All of it.
“Oh.” Dipper doesn’t have a followup. The burn of embarrassment flares in him; he must be blushing down to his chest at this point. Bill really -
He looks down - Bill’s dick, almost straining in his hand - but looking at his face isn’t better, Dipper tucks his cheek against one rising shoulder, face feeling hot on his own skin.
“I’ve been watching you, sapling. All the time.” Bill’s smug grin remains; he’s almost too pleased with himself, even though he’s still telling the truth - . “You have no idea how good you look. How hard you make me.” His eye trails over Dipper, and his cock twitches against his stomach. “Every time I come, I think about how much better it would be if I had you in my bed.”
God, and he does, too. Bill’s not playing a role - or at least, not making this up. They’ve done so much together and Bill’s loved it, every moment, enough to make a mental video of them - and there’s proof of Bill’s lust, wet from Dipper’s mouth and hard in his hand.
Dipper doesn’t know what to say. He has Bill in one hand, himself in the other, moving a little faster now, and it’s hard to focus. He shuts his eyes, trying not to pant.
”You’ve got a great mouth on you, kid. But it looks absolutely perfect around my cock.” Bill pulls on the restraints, lifting himself up to meet Dipper’s eyes - he lowers his head, avoiding it - “You’ve got a talent.” Bill strains to follow his gaze, headboard creaking at the pressure. His cock jumps in Dipper’s grip, grinning sharply. “Put it to use? And I’ll give you everything you want.”
Dipper had already ducked back down. It’s right there - and hell, sucking Bill’s dick is less embarrassing than listening to what he was saying. Dipper tastes him, opens for him. Feeling good, with the thick weight in his mouth, on his tongue. He holds the rest of his length with his other hand, face burning.
“That’s it.” Bill’s breathing hard, voice low. He tilts his head up, watching with his eye half-lidded = and a growing smirk. “Good boy.”
Dipper makes a noise that’s nearly a choke, a soft, gagged whimper. Good at this, he’s good - he moans. Bill tastes of skin and salt, a heavy warm weight that feels good to suck. He pulls back to the head, cheeks hollowing and tongue flickering, before swallowing him down again.
“You- Nh.” Bill curses, tossing his head to one side. One of his legs starts jogging in place, his teeth clenched. “Gonna-”
Dipper doesn’t stop, he strokes and groans in encouragement. Feeling Bill twitch as he comes, swallowing slowly. Bill chants something low under his breath before it all melds into a low moan. Even when he’s finished, Dipper keeps going, just to watch Bill shudder under him like he’s being pleasantly electrocuted, eye rolling back in his skull.
When Dipper finally sits up, Bill’s downright dazed. Splayed out, blinking unfocused. Dipper wipes his mouth, and pats his thigh. A warm glow of pride overcomes the warmth in his cheeks.
So what if he’s got an infinite, powerful demon. Or if he’s a nerd. When it comes to this, even Bill Cipher isn’t his match.
“Ten outta ten.” Bill says, after a moment. He spent a good ten seconds blinking at the ceiling, eye unfocused. One of his hands gives a lazy thumbs up, then droops in its manacle. “A million stars. Would come back again, for eternity.” A quick smirk. “Give the server a massive tip.”
Dipper slaps his hip, just to make a point about puns. Then pauses. He’s uncomfortably hard himself, and now that he’s not distracted - Bill’s dick is flagging, but there's more than a few toys scattered over the mattress, there’s lube. Everything he could use to help himself out. He leans over -
“No toys,” Bill snaps, and Dipper jerks to attention. He hesitates. Already his hand hovers over the lube, just next to something that’s smaller than Bill, but -
“Aw, you’re lonely, aren’tcha?” Bill interrupts again. Starting to shake his head in mock pity. “I know what you need - and I’m better than any of those.” He glances down at own groin, a cocky grin on his face. “I could make you come without you ever touching yourself.”
God, Bill’s being oddly truthful today, and again, he’s right. He has managed that before, Dipper can feel his dick jump at the very idea of it. It’s... Intense, and rough. Feeling that demanding demon over him, around him, deep inside of him - and actually, coming on Bill’s cock sounds extremely fantastic right now.
Dipper fumbles the lube for a second, he reaches to stroke Bill into hardness again, get him ready-
“Ah ah ah,” chides Bill. He rolls his hips to the side, dodging Dipper’s touch. “Where’s the romance?” He flutters his eyelashes, his face in a mocking pout. “You can’t even gimme a kiss first?”
Dipper nearly snorts. They’re in the middle of - Bill’s an all powerful demon. He knows so much. He controls an entire nightmare realm, and so many beings think he’s ‘cool’. Unassailable. Unflappable.
Bill Cipher is all of those things - and he says he married a nerd. Which is, okay. A fair statement.
But It takes one to know one.
“Fine.” Dipper moves up closer, cupping Bill’s cheek. He’s trying not to smile, and failing. “Just one, though.”
Less than two seconds later, he proves himself a liar. Kissing Bill never stops with just a peck. They spend longer than they should, tangled together. Dipper lying halfway on him, Bill rising against his restraints to meet him, and his tongue flickering into Dipper’s mouth
Dipper finally gets a hand on him, where Bill’s already halfway to attention. Spreading lube over him in slow firm strokes, feeling him harden quickly, hot under his palm. Bill’s thick length slides easily under his touch, he can feel a vague pulse through it.
Dipper ducks his head next to Bill’s reaching behind himself. He just - needs to prepare a little, and then- he bites his lip, slipping fingers inside.
Reaching behind himself never gives him the right angle, but. Dipper tucks his chin against his chest as he works himself slowly, twisting his fingers. He hasn’t done this in a while. It’s hard to relax. He breathes slowly, controlled - maybe he needs to spread his legs more -
Which is when Bill surges up underneath him, body arching up like a bow. “You- Don’t be a tease, kid.” The words come out in a low growl, too eager to be anything but honest. “At least turn around and let me watch.”
Dipper stops out of sheer surprise. He pauses, looking up into a wolfish grin.
“C’mere. Sapling. You want some help? Let me give you a hand.” Bill licks his lips. He’s trying to nudge him with a hip, his cock hard again, and his eye alight. “I wanna touch you.”
Right, that would be better. Ten times better than Dipper doing it himself. Bill’s long fingers, pushing inside him - he swears under his breath, scooting upward, and it’s only as the tips of his fingers touch the manacle that he thinks enough to pause.
Dipper looks down at Bill. Bill blinks up at him, eye full of desire -
After a moment, Dipper glares.
The corner of Bill’s mouth quirks up, a bit wryly. “Go on, do it.” He wiggles his fingers in the restraints. Almost teasingly. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Dipper gives him a long, long look, before rolling his eyes.
“Fine.” He repeats, smiling this time. “You jerk.” He undoes one of the restraints.
The clasp opens, the leather parts. Bill stretches his arm out, raising it up front of himself with a pleased grin. Dipper moves onto the next manacle, bracing himself on Bill’s chest for balance -
Bill yanks his other arm, hard. The chain on the headboard snaps with a sharp, metallic clink, and there’s not even time to flinch as Bill lunges up from the bed.
Dipper gasps, half a second after the fact. Much too late, at that. Already there’s a strong arm around his waist, a firm grip in his hair. Dipper didn’t think about how fast Bill can be before he was already caught.
“You really thought you could bind me, of all demons.” Bill shakes his head with slow amusement. He pulls Dipper’s head back and to one side, exposing his neck. “And they call me arrogant”
“Don’t get me wrong, though,” Bill continues, beaming. Starting to nose against that exposed skin, pressing his lips against Dipper’s rapid pulse. Dipper grits his teeth, letting out a soft grunt. He scrambles for purchase on Bill’s shoulders. “It’s adorable.”
“I-” Dipper cuts himself off. Bill’s just licked his neck. Then his ear, teeth grazing against the lobe - now he’s kissing just behind it. “That’s-!” Then. Teeth, on his neck, a mouth on his skin - DIpper swears, and clasps a hand on Bill’s neck in return - “Not fair.”
Bill laughs against Dipper’s shoulder. “All’s fair in lust and war!” He starts trailing kisses up the shoulder, to his neck. “Get used to it.” His mouth sucks in the soft skin tongue flicking over it and absolutely leaving a hickey. Marking him up.
There’s a strong, searching hand between Dipper’s legs, sliding up the back of his thigh. But even when he does struggle, he can’t pull away. Bill’s all over him, surrounding him. Making him his. He’s been captured, there’s no escaping his attention -
Dipper shuts his eyes. He shuffles his knees further apart.
“You could have run, but no! That’s not what you wanted.” Bill slides slick fingers inside him, deeper than Dipper could reach - right there. They spread him open, then press together, then flex - pleasure bursts inside him, god it’s been too long - “You wanted this.”
Dipper shakes his head, but that’s pointless. And obviously a lie; Bill grins as he continues. “You wanted to get fucked. But you’re a skeptic, I get it.” The way he splays his fingers makes Dipper ache, in a good way, he digs his nails into Bill’s back - “You just needed a trial run, first!”
Part of Dipper wants to say that it’s a logical move. That if you’re going to be someone’s… If it’s going to be a sex thing, you should find out if -
Then overthinking takes a backseat, Dipper’s mouth shutting with a click as Bill keeps pressing. Because Bill, the bastard, has clever hands, and a cleverer mind for angles, and his fingers are pushing in so deep. He barely hears Bill asking, “How’dya like it so far?”
“‘S good. Yeah.” The words fall senseless from Dipper’s lips. Very good. He was right, perfectly so, he made absolutely the right choice. When Bill curls his fingers there’s a bright spark, and Dipper pushes into that point of pleasure, grabbing at the back of Bill’s neck, at his shoulders, fumbling in sudden desperation. “More. Please.”
“In a minute.” Bill’s hand never stops, fingers sliding in and out. Avoiding the hitting quite right, now, the bastard - Dipper can feel his breathing pick up, hot on his shoulder. The leather of the manacle is still around Bill’s wrist, cool on Dipper’s skin. “You’re so tight.”
Dipper tugs at him, trying to draw him in. It doesn’t work, even if he really pulls - until Bill finally caves, sliding his fingers out. “And demanding.” He eases Dipper back then, pushing him down on the bed. “I picked exactly the right mortal.”
Dipper tries to get comfortable on the sheets - but Bill hauls him in by his hips. He’s kneeling, which leaves Dipper’s legs splayed over his own. Bill’s cock bobs obscenely over Dipper’s, a rude comparison. “You sure you want this?”
Dipper flips him off. This jerk. Like he can’t see how much he wants it, it’s right there. He’s been hard for a while, extremely so, even now his dick taps on his stomach with urgency, jerking at the very thought of Bill inside him. Bill’s just being a tease.
He nods, anyway, just to move things along.
“Alright, kid. You got this.” Bill shifts up slightly, a smile in his voice. He holds onto Dipper’s hip, starting to guide the thick tip of his cock inside. “You can-” The blunt head of it slips inside, Dipper can see Bill pushing in and feel it, hot pressure entering. “Take all of it.”
Which Dipper’s done before. He’s ready for it. It’s thick and hot as always, but with this angle it’s - Dipper feels his toes curl, he tosses his head back with a whine - Just right. “Yeah.”
“That’s a good boy,” Bill purrs, thrusting shallow, a quick in-and-out, easing himself deeper, a long stroke following - “All mine. My perfect little pet. ” Each word emphasized with another thrust, another push deeper, more firm pressure inside that leaves Dipper breathless. The last bit of chain from the manacle is chill against his hip. “My personal plaything.”
Dipper shoves a hand over his face, whining a protest. He’s - he’s not a - that. But he is, a little. He wants Bill to ‘play’ with him, a lot. He’s wanted it for a while, and now he has it, Bill’s totally inside him, hot and thick. Taking his time, not really fucking him like he could, and Dipper wants more so much he could almost - “Ah.”
“Now that. Is a fantastic look for you.” Bill’s voice is nearly a growl, his grin truly feral. He tugs Dipper closer, shifting up on his knees as he sets a quicker pace. “I could look at that face all day. Or night, as it were.” He draws back slightly, running his thumb around where they’re joined, eye glowing bright. “Or just at you stretched out around me.”
Dipper nods again, helplessly. He can feel it, like it’s bigger than usual, but whether it’s the angle or the time he’s spent alone, he can’t tell. There’s a hot burst of pleasure each time Bill fucks into him; he’s sweating and the sheets getting damp under his back, and in his hands. Holding on tight, and trying to hook his legs around Bill.
“Gonna have you over and over again.” Bill mutters. He's urgently pulling Dipper closer, leaning forward as he rises up slightly. “And you’ll love it.” In this position his cock sends stars swimming into Dipper’s vision, it's so much. His legs are tense, and they’re starting to shake. “Every time I fuck you. Every time I come inside you.”
Damn it, Bill keeps talking; he never stops when he should - All things Dipper can picture in his mind, clear as if it were a dream. He wouldn't have to get Bill’s attention, Bill would be all over him, Dipper would be naked and ashamed and attended to. Whenever he wanted, Bill would be touching him. Kissing his neck, and his chest, shoving him down and fucking him like this, leaving Dipper shaking and waiting until he did it again, getting fucked and touched and adored -
“Use you whenever I want.” Bill rises up to his knees, holding Dipper fully by his hips with unnaturally strong hands, fucking into him rough and urgent. “Let you wait for me, naked in my bed, with all that cum inside you. Touching yourself. “ Bill leans in, teeth bared, breathing hard. He squeezes tight enough to bruise - “Until I bend you over and fill you up again.”
The steady pound of Bill’s cock is building up pleasure too quickly; Dipper can feel it deep in him, ready to make good on his words; every time Bill fucks into him a bead of clear precome drips from his cock, Dipper’s so close he aches - “‘M gonna come.” Dipper blurts, holding onto the sheets, tight. Back arches, nearly whimpering- “Gonna come, please.”
“Sexy little mind. Cute goddamned body. Too eager.” Bill hisses the words out, keeping a steady, near-violent pace, his skin shining with sweat. “Too cute.” He yanks Dipper in tight, arms shaking slightly, and Dipper can feel his cock twitch inside, the added pressure makes him groan - “Everything I wanted.” Bill pants, teeth bared as his eye flutters shut, pressing their hips together. “Fuck, I love you.”
Dipper comes with a sharp, sweet shock, gripping at the sheets, mouthing at the air. Bill holds him close, hips jerking in place, balls deep, pulsing inside him.
Bill squeezes him a little tighter, dropping back onto his seated position. Dipper collapses, boneless from his orgasm - and relieved at the lack of strain on his back. He can feel Bill pulsing inside, hips still jerking faintly in the last few motions.
Dipper lets his head drop back. Trying to catch his breath. Bill stills in place, breathing slower. Eye shut. Until he eventually sighs. He pulls back and away, only to drop on top of Dipper, cheek resting on his chest.
After a moment, Dipper reaches up to card his fingers through Bill’s hair.
Sleeping with Bill is always… interesting. In one way or another Over time he’s been introduced to things he thought were only on the internet, not something people actually did. Hearing Bill say something vaguely normal is strange.
And nice.
They lie there for a bit. Spending time in a calm post-sex daze, comfortable and dozy. Bill raises his arm, and Dipper obligingly unlatches the broken manacle, letting it drop.
With a sigh, Bill turns his head. Finally, totally relaxed, humming in contentment against Dipper’s chest. Dipper keeps petting him idly. Still thinking. Maybe too much, but he’s never going to not.
Even if it was said during sex… there should be a response. Right? If anything, it’s one of the few times he doesn’t have to feel awkward saying it out loud.
“Love you too.” Dipper leans up, planting a quick kiss on Bill’s head, before dropping back. He hugs his idiot demon a little tighter.
Bill makes a low, pleased sound, getting comfortable - then suddenly jerks in place. His head doesn’t rise, but Dipper feels him go tense.
“Ahem. Cute, kid. But you musta misheard me.” Bill clears his throat without looking up. And raises a finger, wagging it. “I said I love fucking you.”
“Uh huh.” Lies, again. Weird one for him to pull, though. Bill doesn't say that sort of thing often, but he’s never outright denied it before. “Sure.”
Dipper keeps running his hand through Bill’s hair, ruffling it slightly. Bill lets out an annoyed grunt, but doesn’t move, face planted on Dipper’s chest. For some reason the tips of his ears are pink.
But. Wait.
Demons do things backwards.
Hell, Dipper’s just read more articles than he’d admit about this exact topic. He should have figured. Though he was… distracted. When it happened.
“Well. If you had said something that kinky,” Dipper continues, feeling Bill mouth a swear against his skin. He thunks his forehead against his human pillow, and Dipper starts to smile. “I would’ve been really into it.”
Bill looks up. Eye narrowing.
Watching his expression turn from annoyed to conflicted is the third best thing that’s happened today.
“Kind of a shame,” Dipper adds, dropping his hands to his sides. He shrugs, then tucks his arms behind his head. “I should have guessed you wouldn’t be that sexy.”
“Hey!”
A brief tussle ensues. Not a fight, and not quite a wrestle. Mostly, it’s Bill jostling Dipper around and Dipper fending him off, neither with much force. He gets two sharp nips on his ear, then gentle teeth on his shoulder. Bill worries the flesh for a moment - a token gesture - before rolling off Dipper with a satisfied grunt.
Dipper follows, throwing an arm over his demon. And when he cuddles up against Bill’s side, he feels Bill adjust to meet him.
Bill lets out a pleased sigh Relaxed, for once. Settling into that lazy, post-sex lassitude that Dipper only sees on rare occasions. Radiating smugness, too; he’s obviously congratulating himself. Dipper could see that in his face from a mile away.
Dipper narrows his eyes. It’s nice when Bill’s calm - but he’s also telling himself he's the greatest, cleverest, most superlative demon ever. That gets annoying.
He’s proven correct moments later, when Bill starts to chuckle.
“I can’t believe you thought you needed advice to seduce me.” Bill says. He shakes his head, almost incredulous. There’s a fond grin on his face. “I married a moron.”
The buried complement is in one of its shallowest graves yet. Dipper narrows his eyes. He would hit him with a pillow, but he’s using Bill for that right now. So he won’t.
“Fine.” He pats Bill’s chest instead. Feeling warm, and pretty relaxed himself. “Next time I won’t let you leave.”
“Go ahead.”
“I’ll interrupt everything,” Dipper insists. He props himself up on one elbow, glaring without any heat at Bill’s stupid handsome face. “You’ll never get any plans done.”
A smirk, and a lazy shrug. Bill even rolls his eye, grinning wider. “Hey, you can try.”
“You asked for it, Bill Cipher” Dipper’s smiling now. He rolls on top of his idiot demon, cupping his face, shaking it in his grasp just to watch Bill get grumpy. “Prepare to be bored senseless, hanging out with some human all the time.”
“Pfft, hardly!” Bill waves that off like it’s not even an issue. He also grabs Dipper’s butt. “You’ll never manage it.”
Hearing Bill practically perform necromancy on the usually buried compliments is - The only retort there is kissing him stupid. As always it disarms him; a demon, easily subdued. An idiot, who thinks just because his tongue is in Dipper’s mouth that he’s won.
All demons are stupid in the ways of romance. Research alone has proven that. And… real life has kind of proven that Dipper’s… not the greatest either.
Too bad for, Bill, though. Infinite knowledge, insane power. And stupid, and overlooking things. A gossip and a nerd. He admitted it already - too easily seduced, if you’re the right person.
It’s too late for Bill to win this one. He’s already met his match.
“Leave the gossip rags outta the bedroom, sapling.They’re made by idiots, for idiots. Terrible advice, all round.” Bill adds, once they’ve parted again again. He walks his fingers up Dipper’s back, running a hand over the back of his neck - then makes a face, as a thought strikes him. “I’m just glad you didn’t try the starfruit thing.”
Dipper…. Probably shouldn’t ask. If Bill thinks it’s bad, who knows what it looks like to a mortal. But hell, he’s always curious. Dipper sits up. “Sorry, the what thing?”
“Oh man, I gotta show you!” Bill perks up. He shuffles into a seated position, leaning against the headboard. One snap of the fingers, and magazine blinks into existence on his lap. “It’s horrible.”
Dipper scoots up and over, resting his head on Bill’s shoulder. Watching, as he flips to the advice column.
Turns out Bill has collected more than a few issues himself. Not for advice, but out of sheer amusement.
If Dipper thought humans gave each other bad advice, holy shit. He’s amazed he got anything useful from his own research. For every drop of decent advice, the rest are insane by any standard. Demons have to be actively fucking each other over, they can’t truly believe any of this crap.
Most of the time, Dipper bickers with his husband, while Bill finds points to argue right back. It’s more fun than Dipper will ever say out loud, and Bill enjoys it immensely.
This time, they’re sitting together. Bill nudging him to read another article, and Dipper pointing out how bad demonic advice is about humans. There’s more than a few magazines, and they comb over every single awful inch of them.
Reading how dumb and wrong other beings are. How they’re ridiculous and stupid and terrible - it’s another contest, kind of. Bill’s creative with his wordplay, mocking every single aspect. Dipper, though, has more pointed insights, and one of them makes Bill laugh so hard he nearly chokes on his own spit.
It’s different. It’s new.
And it’s fun.
Spending time with Bill is both unusual, and insane. It defies all natural laws, every legal one, and common sense is completely tossed out the window. Demons would think half their dates are boring. Humans would think the rest are insane.
For once, Bill had the right sentiment when it came to other people..
‘Screw ‘em’, is pretty good advice.
“Y’know, I had a centerfold in onna these things a couple centuries ago.” Bill admits, on the fifth issue. He taps his chin thoughtfully. “Can’t recall which one, though.”
“I bet it was awful,” Dipper lies. He hopes the corner of glossy paper hanging out from under his mattress won't be too obvious. “You’re the worst.”
“I am,” Bill says, with the usual amount of pride. His chest puffs out a little, he raises his chin.
Dipper takes Bill’s hand in his own, squeezing tight. “You are.”
Fuck it. They don’t have to make sense to anyone else. Bill’s incomprehensible to nearly everyone as it is, and Dipper barely understands himself half the time -
But the more time they spend together, the more they get each other.
And it’s never, ever boring.
Bill beams at him, pulling Dipper in for a kiss. Before he has a chance to take charge, Dipper puts his tongue in Bill’s mouth first. Another contest, that Bill easily takes him up on, surging in for another kiss - He only breaks off halfway through to start laughing.
Demonic, human, or otherwise - No matter how normal or weird it gets -
Dipper smiles, and holds Bill tighter. Feeling his chest shake with amusement, a warm body lying on him.
He knows they’ll have plenty of time together.
#Not Safe for the working#familiar!au#This really needed another editing pass but maybe I'll do that if I ever put this up on AO3#I just reached the point where I couldn't look at it anymore and had to get it out of my brain for a bit#My apologies that this is all I have to offer you#At least it may bring you some amusement#Uhhh usually I have fun tag facts let's see#Oh yeah the event Bill was hosting was absolutely a demonic invasion of some sort#It's just that demons *see* it as a party#And wouldn't you know it it helps if you've got a major heavyweight for your scheduled shenanigans#Because you know that when it's on a timetable your party favors/victims are going to mount a defense#Imagine some demon hanging up after Dipper throws the phone#Another asking 'so is Bill gonna show up'#A slow shake of the head - if they have a head - 'he's getting laid instead :('#Sorry Dipper you made it pretty obvious what was going on#And then the 'party' was an absolute disaster#Bill says it serves them right; Dipper is mostly unaware of all of this#Does this mean that Bill will let himself be in this situation again??? Yes. Yes it does#Bless you Dipper you pulled out several stops but you didn't know what to do once you had said stops pulled#Anyway hope it wasn't too awful guys!! I'm working on other stuff too#I'm gonna go lie down now
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Rating Ron and Hermione Moments from The Books
1. Their First Kiss: I mean......no other moment in this list can beat this right? Ron made fun of S.P.E.W. for majority of the series but this all changes when Dobby saved their lives, at the expense of his own. It is also adorable considering that he is the first one to suggest the safety of the house elves instead of Hermione. Also, if Harry wasn’t with them, they would have not stopped kissing. Damn him for interrupting their moment.♾ ♾ ♾/10
2. Ron Getting 12 Fail Safe Ways to Charm Witches Book to Date Hermione: OMG! This is actually such a small scene in DH but its so damn adorable!!! I love that Ron took Fred and George’s gift seriously and started to read it to woo Hermione. I love that Hermione is “pleased and confused” at his politeness. This man really is putting in the effort to get the girl he loves. 307487482042/10
3. Hermione Confunding Cormac: Considering Hermione’s character and her hating breaking the rules, it is a big deal. She gets mad at Cormac for insulting Ron and therefore makes sure his arrogant ass does not make the Quidditch team so Ron does. She breaks the rules for her MAN. 150/10
4. The Malfoy Manor Scene: Honestly this scene was so damn tragic, all Romione fans were crying their eyes out in this scene. I hated seeing Hermione being hurt and hated seeing Ron stressing. However, because I am an emo bitch, I put it on the list. Ron who is calm under stressful situations was screaming her name over and over again and even offered himself to be tortured in Hermione’s stead. I am literally sobbing. the most infinite number in the world/10
5. Ron Pushing Hermione out of the way in the Cafeteria Fight: *sobbing* If you want a good partner, make sure you get one that will push you out of the way when spells are being thrown at you (if you happen to be a witch, too). Ron’s first instinct is to push her out of harm’s way instead of protecting himself. That’s called ‘actions are louder than words’ 100000000000000/10
6. Falling Asleep While Holding Hands: I honestly wish to know what led up to them holding hands in their sleep. Such a simple gesture but romantic nonetheless. It is even cuter considering that they weren’t actually dating when this happened. They are the best ship to ever grace the planet. 789/10
7. Ron Telling Snape to Fuck off after he Insulted Hermione: Ron has always made fun of Hermione for knowing everything but he also admired her intelligence and work ethic. However, once he sees how Snape’s insult affected Hermione, he roasts him (as he should). And earns detention for speaking against Mopey Snippy Snape. We love an overprotective king. 1000000000/10
8. Dancing at Bill and Fleur’s Wedding: Imagine Ron and Hermione dancing, him twirling her and having their happy moments before everything goes to shit. I just know that they embraced and enjoyed every single second of their dance!! It is so damn romantic! Also can we appreciate Ron’s character development here???? He went from asking Hermione to the Yule Ball at the last minute to asking her to dance with him immediately???? ♾/10
9. Hermione kissing Ron’s Cheek: Its so adorable considering Ron was dazzled by her kiss and his mind was in another dimension when it happened. I also love that Hermione puts effort into wishing him luck with the kiss and doesn’t bother even wishing the rest luck. She merely just says good luck to Harry. 90/10
10. Ron telling Hermione he loves her: Yes, they weren't dating. Yes, Ron was still dating Lavender. But this doesn't make it any less romantic. It’s so cute because you know that when he tells her he loves her, he means it. Hermione believes its a joke but blushes anyways. (Let’s also acknowledge that he told her she’s the most wonderful person he's ever met in fifth book when she helps him with his work) 10/10
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02:17am, August 18, 1984 (Santa Monica - California)
An agitated voice, and a tap on his shoulder. “Eddie, Max. Wake up. We have to go.”
Eddie peeps an eye open. It hasn’t been long since he fell asleep, he can tell from the way his body aches for more sleep. It’s still dark outside, and he can barely see the raindrops trickling down the window. The air conditioner hums faintly over the bustling noise of his parents rifling through the room. In the bed next to his, Max stirs and rubs her eyes with a soft what the hell, her long red hair strewn all over the pillow.
“Come on, kids, up, up! We have no time,” Susan taps them harder. “Can’t afford to dilly-dally.”
Fucking hell. Eddie scoffs a little under his breath – Susan never used the word dilly-dally unironically. It’s kind of funny. But the electronic clock on the side table says 2:17, truly an ass-o’clock. Eddie scowls.
“I thought the checkout isn’t until 11?”
“We are leaving right now,” George orders as he frantically shoves various items in his suitcase, chips and hundred-dollar bills flying around. His voice is gruff. “Pack your things.”
“Never bothered to unpack,” Eddie mumbles. A force of habit, really. He gets out of bed at last, groggy and tired from swimming and surfing the day before. Now that he’s more awake, he realizes that he really needs to take a leak.
“What part of right now don’t you understand?!” George bellows, making Eddie flinch.
“Jeez, dad, I’ve already packed! I just have to use the bathroom and we’re out of here, okay?! God-“
He’s shoved against the nearest wall by the collar before he registers that he’s made the mistake of talking back.
“I will only say this one more time,” George snarls, and there’s a dangerous twist on his lips that almost looks like a smile. “If we’re not out of here within the minute, this is it for us. We might actually not make it this time.”
Eddie has to bite down the urge to roll his eyes. He always pulls this dramatic shit like it’s the end of the fucking world if Eddie doesn’t listen, like something terrible might just happen if he doesn’t obey. He’s never dared to find out what the consequences might be.
“Yea, okay,” he chokes.
“Yes, sir,” George beckons. Honestly, didn’t he just say they are in a hurry? Jesus. But it’s not worth the trouble, not at a moment like this, so Eddie does answer him, “Yes, sir,” and massages his neck when George lets him go. Fuck.
“Maxine, get dressed,” Susan says without glancing, busy collecting whatever shit that’s scattered around the hotel room. “You heard your father. We’re leaving in a minute, and I really do mean a minute.”
He’s not my father, Max mutters under her breath, only loud enough that Eddie can hear, but the fact that she didn’t accost her for saying her full name instead of Max is telling, her movement swift as she takes a few items of clothing and goes into the bathroom to change.
Damn it. Now Eddie’s gotta wait until she comes out to use the goddamn bathroom.
He looks around the room to see if there’s anything else he needs to grab before going, although he knows already that he can absolutely just walk out the door right now. He's been ready. He’s always ready to leave anywhere, anytime. That’s the way he’s always lived. That his family’s always lived, always ready to disappear at a moment’s notice if the situation requires it.
Once Max exits and Eddie relieves himself at last, their parents are already at the door, peeking out to observe the hallway. Eddie spots a stray ball of cash at the foot of the bed and pockets it hurriedly, and joins Max to stand behind George and Susan.
“Why do we have to sneak out? Again?” Max asks.
“It’s clear,” George says, as if that answers her question. He pokes his head out the door and looks both ways like he’s about to cross the goddamn street, and runs to the elevator. The little screen on top lights up from the tenth floor with an upward arrow, but the number doesn't increase for quite some time.
“It’s not gonna be here any quicker, you know,” Eddie comments as George presses the down button repeatedly. There’s a crazed look on his father’s face. Eddie knows that George is now in a state in which he cannot really hear shit.
This isn’t anything new. Eddie was 10 when he learns what ‘gambling’ means. It’s some kind of game, his parents had told him, a game from which they can make money. A lot of money and, as Eddie would discover later, a shit ton of debt. For the last few years, they’ve even been pursued by people - scary kinds - who really want their money back, who’d do just about anything to get it back. And today, of all the goddamn days of the year, had to be one of those days. The run days. And to think that he’d spend another leisurely day at the beach for a change…
“If we’re sneaking out, shouldn’t we take the stairs or something?” Max suggests, and for a moment Eddie thinks that it’s a futile thing to ask shit like that at a time like this, and going down eighteen stories by the stairs doesn't sound all that fun, what with all the shit they're carrying. But Susan somehow picks it up and nods, grabbing George by his sleeve and hightails towards the exit that leads to the stairs. Eddie follows, tightening the strap of his overnight bag on his shoulder. Behind him, the elevator finally opens with a faint ding.
Then. A strange man’s voice. “Take another step, Munson, and see what happens,” and George freezes on the spot, his hand on the doorknob. Eddie turns around to see not one but two men in Hawaiian shirts and shorts, looking so casual and easy and nothing out of the ordinary, except they’re pointing guns at his family as if they’re holding out champagne glasses to toast. Instinctively, Susan and Eddie step in front of a trembling Max, whose grip on Eddie’s strap is tight enough for him to feel.
“You wouldn’t,” George breathes, and it sounds like a plea.
“Shut the fuck up, man, I’m so fucking tired of playing tag all over the goddamn state,” the man growls. “Never thought I’d find you here, though. Santa Monica? That’s high profile, Munson. It’s like you were asking to be found.”
“Please, it’s our son’s birthday,” Susan says weakly.
“Oh, shit, is it?!” The second man chuckles, breaking into a wide grin. It almost looks genuine when he says, “holy shit, that him right there? How old are you, kid? You don’t look a day over 16, sweetheart.”
“I’m 18, asshole,” Eddie spits, almost regretting it when George shoots him daggers.
“Aww, happy birthday, kid!” He rests a gunless hand over his heart. “Now you can join your parents to play, huh? Am I dreaming or are those bags full of cash? Hope you were about to deliver them yourself. You’re so behind it’s not even funny.”
“Take – take them all,” Susan offers, lowering the bags and suitcases in her hands. “Please. Our children –”
The man on the left shakes his head in annoyance. “Yea, yea, spare us. How much you got?”
“It’s enough,” George tells them, at the same time that Susan says, “fifty thousand, as we promised.”
Eddie’s jaw drops. What the fucking fuck. He knew that his parents were in trouble, that they were in debt, but -
“Yea, you see, I don’t think that was the deal. There’s this thing called, uh, interest?” The first man smirks. “You owe us at least a hundred k, my friends. Time to cough up.”
“And you’ll get it!“ George snaps. “Just give us some time – we’ll make it up, alright?”
“No, no, it’s all here, actually, we can – Eddie, honey, give them your bag,” Susan says, brushing Max’s hand away from Eddie's strap and taking the bag off his shoulder. Max recoils, grabbing onto Eddie’s arm instead.
“What – what are you doing? That’s my –“ Eddie starts to protest, but immediately clamps down when he sees the desperate look in Susan’s eyes. Just play along.
“So, including this one, it’s a hundred?” The man on the right asks, checking the weight of Eddie’s bag. “Mind if we count?”
The men withdraw the guns and deposit them behind their backs, leaning forward to open the zipper.
As Eddie holds his breath – it’s only a matter of time until they find out that his bag is full of junk – George springs towards the men with an animalistic howl, knocking both of them to the ground.
For a cruel second, Eddie almost thinks that they might have hope. That they might be able to get out of this. Maybe recall in the distant future as they sit around, celebrating another birthday of his, maybe over a drink or two, saying, remember that time we almost died in that casino hotel? To health and longevity!
Instead, he stands there, paralyzed, as the men get back on their feet to swing at George and restrain his arms. Really, it’s like in the movies, when everything slows down, and time slows down – or is it more like in a dream? – watching Susan surging forward to go after George. The only thing that grounds him to reality is Max’s death grip on his biceps.
For the mystery men – probably some kind of loan sharks, as Eddie’s rational mind supplies somewhere far in the back – time isn’t at all moving in slow motion. They are quick to get the guns back in their hands, one pointing at George and the other at Susan.
“Open them,” one of the men tells George as he pushes him towards the elevator.
With shaking hands, George opens one of the suitcases, the one that the entire family knows is the one that contains cash, and the men nod in satisfaction. Fuck, that is a lot of money -
“And the other one?”
“Please, just let him go,” Susan sobs as George takes a deep breath to unzip Eddie’s bag. Even from afar, Eddie can see the little glimpses of his cassette tapes and clothes between the zippers.
The two men look at each other, raising brows, then back at George. “Hmm. Seems like you still owe us a fuck ton.”
“Just give us some time-“
“Hey, hey, keep it down, will ya? You’re gonna wake everyone up.”
They press the down button of the elevator, which opens at once, like had been waiting for this moment all along. The men shove George inside with the cash bag.
“No, please!” Susan sobs, inching towards the elevator despite being within point-blank range.
“No, Suzie – go! Take the kids!” George’s yelp is muffled as the elevator closes, the sound of commotion escaping between the door.
“Let’s go, we have to go get him,” Susan whispers, and Eddie doesn’t know how the hell her legs are still functional, how she’s still able to run like that as she sprints towards where her children are. If she could do this, he should be able to - Eddie tries to snap out of it and follows Susan to the stairs, taking Max by her hand.
Somewhere not too close and not too far, there is a resounding crack, suspiciously like a gunshot. Eddie gasps, but he doesn’t look back, his body now on autopilot as he jumps two steps down at a time. He barely feels Max’s hand slipping away from his.
continue reading on ao3
#eddie munson#max mayfield#george munson - eddie's father#susan mayfield - max's mother#eddie & max stepsiblings#ao3#and later -#steve harrington#wayne munson#the party stranger things#stranger things fic#steddie fic#steddie#yea it's shameless promo time again#scratched and you're still smiling
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The pic of Charles and Pierre out at the restaurant omg!! Poor bunny would be groped all night by the two of you (and absolutely love it of course). Pierre would have his hand constantly moving up and down Charles’ thigh throughout the meal, occasionally lifting it and placing it on Charles’ nape to give him little squeezes to ground him again. Or small tugs of his hair. You’d be sat opposite, your feet grazing Charles’ leg all night, eventually moving up to press down on his crotch. By the time the three of you are in a taxi back to the hotel (bunny in the middle of course) Charles is so worked up he can barely sit still, thoughts long long gone, eyes glazed and whining
Oh my god yes!!
Charles would have the time of his life honestly. Getting groped by you and Pierre in public like that? Amazing. Cause he just feels so owned? Like he’s yours and Pierre’s and no one else’s and it’s just the best.
That does mean that he can’t form a coherent though the whole evening though, which actually makes everything even better.
You and Pierre have coherent conversations, discussing races and future plans and whatnot. You try to bring Charles into the conversation, except every time you or Pierre tries to bring Charles into conversation, the other touches Charles.
Like you ask Charles what he thought of the Monza F2 race, but at the same time pierre moves his hand up Charles’s thigh so there’s no way Charles can answer you. All he can do is just whine and then cough to try and cover it up.
So you say “aw little bunny, too dumb to answer huh? That’s okay. You just sit there and look pretty and let Pierre and I handle the rest”.
And that’s exactly what happens. You and Pierre talk, order for Charles, take turns groping Charles. While Charles just sits there and tries to eat his dinner without dropping his fork every few seconds.
He feels like a trophy? Like, he can’t even join the conversation. All he can do is sit there and look pretty for you and Pierre to play with and he’s very pleased with the situation.
He starts to get really impatient once you get the bill, because he knows you’ll be taking him home now and he’ll finally get the attention he wants.
Poor little bunny can’t stay still in the taxi, no matter how hard he tries. You have to let him sit with your bag on his lap to cover his very obvious boner cause your bunny is so hard.
The moment he’s inside, he’s shameless. Pushing himself against you and Pierre, whining with tears in his eyes because he let you both play with him all evening and now he wants to be fucked!!!
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SuyaLight Master Post 1
I really like these two there’s not a lot of content for the fandom as a whole soooo her’s my submission as I get every moment of these two royals who literally share a braincell (and I love them for it) First up this is just on the manga if you are anime only its going to have stuff you havent seen yes even with what the anime covers (so read it) and there will be spoilers so beware. If you prefer Demon Monk/Cleric/Leo (which I don’t really get) I am sorry this isnt for you. Lets go!
So this is their first real interaction of the series. Up until this point Twilight has only seen her asleep and Suya only vaguely knows who he is. Right now she is looking for a demon to push pressure points on her back to induce sleep.
Seeing he fits the bill for the sort of hands that could do just that she drags him off to her dungeon cell...room its just her room thats what I’ll call it cause thats what it is, anyway he’s very confused but gets dragged anyway
Suya has a problem with how she phrases things (and this won’t be the last time) Twilight is so cute though he has only the vaguest idea of what she could possibly be asking of him and goes for it.
Not only does he look foolish to himself but others see. Not the best first impression.
But no one else can really say anything cause they all got confused in the same way.
So Suya is going around basically rating others beds and she just casually hops into Twilights as he sleeps.
She notes that his is very comfortable the highest rating thus far, and Twilight is woken with a shock.
He wants her out of room obviously but she just starts messing with his things one of which is a picture of him as a kid he very much doesnt want her seeing.
Not that she had any intent to anyway preferring the high quality drink instead.
As she continues to take things he tries to get her to explain herself and leave when Leo shows up.
Suya explains why she’s there very poorly and leaves with Twilights things back to her room. And this is a recurring gag between the three Suya does something that puts Twilight in a bad situation and Leo assuming the worst (cause his mind is almost always in the gutter) assaults Twilight. The funny part of course is that Twilight is so much more innocent than Leo.
So Suya has sleep paralysis and the teddy’s don’t know what to do, after doing some weird things to her Twilight shows up, Suya has high hopes that he will be able to actually help her
She is proven wrong as one of his subordinates makes a stupid suggestion and Twilight has a problem with saying no and second guessing himself (also he probably just wanted the kiss her)
This would be cute if it weren’t for the outfit and her death glare, he’s so nervous he’s literally shaking.
The desire to not have this forced upon her makes the paralysis go away. Now those against the ship might say this proves how much she doesn’t like him but I can make an argument that its more likely has to do with some princess rule about “No kissing before your married” that she takes too seriously as she’s prone to do. Also less likely but she could be touch adverse or does not like not being in control. I’m just saying her rejecting one kiss at the start of the series does not throw him out of the runnings
But Twilight is hurt in a lot of way probably just overall embarrassment. And again Suya’s statement to Leo could be taken as fans of the pair as her preference to him but its very obvious she means it in a practical sense as he’s a healer.
Suya always likes to take advantage of others for her own convience.
After confusing everyone in the castle cause she was told as a child never to mention her underwear Twilight and Leo come to check and see what she was hiding.
Suya is genuinely excited and Twilight feels really bad in tricking her.
Proof that Twilight is just as much of an airhead and Suya (they’re made for each other haha)
Twilight does constantly think he and Suya are similiar in their roles as royals but over time she keeps proving him wrong or under cutting his concern. His dry remark of a “little” kinda shows how he’s started to read her questioning just what a “Little” means to her.
Twilight collapses from exhaustion due to overwork but he can’t fall asleep because his mind is too anxious due to Suya and the hero causing him problems, as well as his normal personal aniexties.
At first she considers just killing him and properly escaping indicating that part of her does want to return home, and she hasn’t really become fond of the demons yet. But Teddy stops her by explaining that his he dies the castle goes down too thus probably killing her but definitely destroying her things.
So Suya tries to help Twilight fall asleep.
It does not go great.
In a roundabout way you can kinda see how Suya thought she might be helping. She doesn’t know much about demons and how they are and aren’t different from humans and these are things she has kinda done to herself.
Twilight is pretty good at understanding Suya I think Hypnos, Cursed Muscian/Dentist and the Scissor demon are probably a bit better than him but not by much.
In the same vein Suya is pretty good at understanding him, picking up on him briefly calling for his father and hearing how he can’t give up as his father never would (Twilights insecurities are just too real), and recognizing he must be very close to him as she is to her mother.
Taking advice her mother once gave her she tries to sooth Twilight.
Probably giving the first positive reinforcement he’s had in a while. He’s so embaressed though he can’t process it.
Eventually the two fall asleep rather adorably. Except for the fact that Twilight is found tied up sleeping next to Suya and they start thinking he’s into S&M. But Imma end this on a cute note. This stuff was all covered by the anime so far, I’m continue in part 2 later.
#sleepy princess#sleepy princess in the demon castle#suyalight#manga#demon king twilight#Maou-jou de Oyasumi#maoujou de oyasumi#Aurora Sya Lis Goodereste#princess suya
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expectoxpatr-ohno:
She knew it wasn’t the words that Joe had wanted to hear from her but it had been what she saw as the truth. Her eyes flicked briefly to the building cloud coverage above them, rolling thunder in the distance and she blinked when a single drop of rain hit her on the cheek. Fitting- such a mood for their current situation. Her head shook, internally scoffing at his words and part of her wanted to grab him by the collar and give him a good shake. Of course that wasn’t what she wanted. Especially since when she tried to imagine what life she did have without him, that only made things worse. She was torn between living a listless life being connected to some way with the hand of death himself or dying and maybe not being alone any longer.
“Of course it’s not-” she whispered softly and stepped further away from the cliff edge and went to sit on a large rock nearby. Her head dipped into her hands and she let out a frustrated yell as fingers gripped at her hair before turning to look at him. “What do ye want of me, hm?” The anger fading and she looked at him as he looked at her a million times. Curiosity in her eyes and her mind running circles around the possibilities. “What am I- when it comes to you, Joe? Because we both know m’not gonna be around as long as yer gonna be. An’ yer far too infatuated with us livin’ folk ta give up that fancy body of yers.” Her tongue ran over her lips before they turned in on one another and with a clap of her hands onto her knees she stood and moved closer to him, looking up at the other in defeat. “It hurts doesn’t it? Ta tie yerself ta someone.”
⊗ His gaze followed her, no words, no steps of his own taken just yet. Instead he chose to wait, that was Joe, always observant, an analyzer of things that probably shouldn’t be analyzed because no matter how hard he thought about it, he failed to comprehend.
It wasn’t until she whispered that he came just slightly closer, head canting and a slight furrowed brow stared at her. The question sent his mind to swarm with thoughts, what was she to him? What did he want from her? It always was way more complex than what he sets at first wasn’t it? First Bill, he just wanted entertainment, to feel and it all backfired... She was no longer a mean to amusement, in fact she hadn’t been.
Then she came closer and the words he did not like one bit. It hurts doesn’t it? Her voice rang in his head, the memory of Susan hit his heart like one of the thunders brewing in the sky. A deep frown etched on his face as he looked away from what to him felt like a daring tone. Further pain wasn’t what he was looking for to experience in life yet mortals seemed to live for it didn’t they?
❛ It does. ❜ he began ❛ I’ve felt it before and I promised myself I’d try not to do it again, but you... mortals make it hard. So hard. ❜ the mumble came and after, clear eyes looked up at the sky to feel the droplets of rain hit his face, pattering on his skin like little drums. And finally, a soft smile.
It would be hard to give this body, it wasn’t his though. Once it belonged to someone else... By leaving he would miss the feeling of rain on his skin, the smells of flowers and its touch, the taste of food, the sensation of hugs and kisses... All of it. The more he stayed the greedier he became... His gaze fell down again, this time looking at Marlene with the tranquility he always possessed.
❛ You are a friend. ❜
#↪ Joe#Marlene ( Joe )#expectoxpatrohno Marlene | Joe ( 002 )#expectoxpatrohno ( 002 )#int ( expectoxpatrohno )#It’s the unknown we fear when we look upon death & darkness ─ ( HP )
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I'm interested in the Lila exposed au about your akumasona. What's that?
For those who don’t know my OC (self insert) akumasona Zoe Rapporte (The Enchanted Florist), but her family owns a flower shop that is pretty successful - think “This florist does the arrangements at the Grand Paris and for High Profile Events” - so she’s mildly acquainted with Adrien from some of those events. Maybe not friends, but like when you frequent a coffee shop so much that you learn all the staff’s name and they all remember you.
So Lila is not above dropping lots of money to sell her lies (hello Gabriel Collection Fox Necklace) and one of her lies to her mother is that Adrien is her boyfriend. And what boyfriend doesn’t send his lovely girlfriend flowers, especially one as well off as Adrien Agreste? And really, as long as his name is on the card when her mother accepts them at the door, that’s all that matters, right?
So Zoe takes note that once a week this prissy girl with a bizarre hairstyle comes in to place a rather pricey bouquet order under Adrien’s name and has it delivered to the same address that’s on the credit card bill - doesn’t take a genius to figure out this delusional weirdo is pretending a celebrity is sending her flowers weekly. It’s a little strange because Zoe could’ve sworn she saw on TV that this chick had done photo shoots with Adrien before and based on his Instagram she was his classmate, so it’s kinda concerning that she’s going this far to burrow her way into his life. Still, she’s dropping quite a bit of coin and it’s really none of Zoe’s business, yeah?
But then imagine there’s a class event - maybe a dance, maybe a teacher’s appreciation week, maybe an alumni reunion - that needs our favorite class representative and her deputy to order a large amount of flowers. And Adrien, ever desperate to do his part, takes it upon himself to help with the budget. And maybe Nino decides to come for no particular reason lol.
So the four walk into the Rapporte Flower Shop and Adrien is so excited to introduce his friends to one of the familiar faces from his VIP world. And he’s just so exuberant as he brags about his friends and is so wholesome and different from the put together boy Zoe would briefly meet at those stuffy events that this surge of sisterly affection makes her completely forget her usual “none of my business” attitude. She’s got to let him know what it going on behind his back, especially if there’s a chance that he has no idea what kind of girl “Mlle. Rossi at the fifth story walk up” was.
And who knows? Maybe this was a misunderstanding, a weird arrangement Adrien had with his secret girlfriend to make sure she gets exactly the type of bouquet she wants? Zoe recons she’s had stranger requests. Welp, no better way to clear the air than to just ask.
“Hey Adrien, you know there’s this weird girl that comes in once a week and has flowers delivered to herself under your name?”
Adrien paused in his rant about Nino’s music mixing skills (having already left Alya puffing her chest in pride and Marinette a red puddle of embarrassed goo) to stare blankly at Zoe. “I beg your pardon?”
“Oh yeah.” Zoe leaned into her palm, looking way too relaxed considering what she’d just dropped on him. “For, like, the two months at least. Always has us address her card ‘Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder, Ma Belle, from Your Loving Boyfriend Adrien Agreste’.”
“What the heck?!” Alya exclaimed from beside Nino who’s jaw was dropped in disbelief. “That’s crazy messed up. Adrien doesn’t even have a girlfriend, what does this psycho think she’s doing?!”
“Right? I don’t know who she thinks she fooling. What kind of boyfriend needs to sign his full name?”
“It is pretty weird.” Adrien said, rubbing his neck in discomfort. “But it’s not the strangest thing a fan has done. It’s not that big a deal, right?”
“Dude.” Nino started, staring at his best friend in mild horror. “Just because you don’t know this girl doesn’t make it ‘no big deal’.”
“Oh no.” Zoe pipes up again. “He knows her.”
“What?!” All of Adrien’s friend’s exclaimed. Even Adrien looked a bit shook by her admission.
Alya zipped over to the counter, leaning dangerously close to Zoe’s remarkably unfazed face. “What do you mean ‘he knows her’?! How do you know that?! This sounds like a creepy fangirl but you’re telling me she’s actually in Adrien’s life?!”
“I should say so. I mean, it was even on TV that she was modeling with Adrien and she’s made a few appearances on his instagram.” Zoe brought out her phone, casually thumbing open Instagram. “I would’ve just ignored it, but if she’s going around pretending she’s dating Adrien then he has the right to know.”
“Modeling with....and you said on his instagram...?”
“Are...” Marinette piped up, voice dripping with trepidation. “Are you talking about Lila?”
“Marinette,” Alya gave her friend a withering look. “Just because you don’t like her doesn’t mean you can just accuse her of-”
Zoe cut her off, flashing her phone screen at the group to present a photo, having found the image she was looking for: a brunette with a straight fringe and her forelocks in twin tails leaning possessively over an uncomfortably smiling Adrien.
“Yes, Mlle. Rossi! I’d recognize that crazy hairstyle anywhere.” She turned the phone back to look at it herself. “Pft, Adrien, what’s with this caption? ‘Lila insisted I take post this picture?’ Yikes, man, learn to say no.”
Alya waved her hands in front of her, eyes scrunched closed in disbelief. “Hold up, hold up, hold up. You have GOT to be getting this twisted. Lila wouldn’t do something that like this, that’s just...wrong!”
“I mean, this is definitely the girl I was talking about.” Zoe said slowly, raising one eyebrow at Alya’s response. “And Rossi is the name on the bill. What exactly am I ‘getting twisted?’“
“Because!..Because Lila just wouldn’t!”
“Yeah!” Nino shouted from behind her, shaking himself out of the stupor this whole situation left him in. “She said she wasn’t into Adrien like that!”
Zoe snorted. “And you believed her?”
“W-well yeah, why would she lie about that...?”
“You guys are so cute. And definitely need to watch more True Crime shows.”
“What-?”
“Sorry Adrien.” Zoe lofted over Alya’s shoulder, cutting off another defensive quip. “I know she was your friend. I just wanted to make sure you knew.”
“Ah, no, she’s not really- I mean, I’m not that surprised to be honest.” Adrien offered weakly.
“It sounds right up her alley.” Marinette growled, fingers digging into her crossed arms.
“What...” Nino and Alya turned to their friends, confused and anxious. “What are you talking about? This..this is Lila we’re talking about!”
“The same Lila who got Marinette expelled?” Adrien stated, face grim and tired.
“That was rescinded, it wasn’t her fault-”
“The same Lila who sent everyone in Adrien’s contact list picture of her kissing Adrien?” Marinette ground out, aggravated.
“I mean, that was weird, but I’m sure she didn’t mean-”
“The same Lila who got my bodyguard and Natalie in trouble with my dad?”
“Or maybe the same Lila who stole Adrien’s dad’s book and threw it in the trash?”
“She did WHAT-?!”
“I-I fished it out for you!”
“Wait is that how you knew about Lila-”
“Wow.” Zoe whistled, again cutting the group off. “What a class act. Sounds like a great friend you got there, Adrien.”
“Oh trust me.” Adrien growled, eyes never leaving Marinette who steadfastedly refused to look at him. “After this we’re NOT friends.”
Alya held her head with one hand, staring at the ground. “Wait, wait, this...this can’t be right, Lila isn’t...she wouldn’t do this, she wouldn’t, she’s...cool! And nice! And-! She just can’t!”
Zoe cocked her head toward’s Alya, leveling her with a patient stare. “Well, then what is she doing?” Alya looked up blankly at her, prompting her further. “The truth of the matter is that Lila Rossi comes in once a week, and has been for at least two months, buying flowers to be delivered to her own address (which I know because it matches up to the address on the card with her last name on it), but dictates that the card say it was sent by Adrien. If she’s not faking that Adrien is sending her flowers, what is she doing?”
“I...I don’t...” Alya floundered. They were just supposed to order some flowers, how did the day turn like this?!
“You’re an investigative reporter, right? What’s that old Sherlock Holmes saying? ‘Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth’?”
Alya leaned into Nino, staring out at the shop, searching for something to make some sense. She thought Lila was nice, was her friend, was everyone’s friend! But this stunt with Adrien...what does it even mean...?
Everyone looked towards the employee door as footsteps could be heard approaching. A moment later Tama, Zoe’s younger sister, stepped into the shop, pausing at the door when she realized five pairs of eyes were staring at her. She looked over the customers, taking in Marinette’s slight glower, Adrien’s tight jaw, and Nino and Alya’s devastated posture.
“Soooo, are you here to buy some bouquets?”
#lol I didn't know how to finish this off though#I always imagined it as a 'wake up call' fic rather than a 'and then everyone told lila how awful she is'#could use some refinement#lila salt#zoe rapporte#my oc#my fic#ml salt fic#akumasona#miracusona#a-bitchtm
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Bill Skarsgard Alphabet- Your relationship with Bill
Here’s a list from A-Z about what your relationship with Bill would be like.
A list of headcannons of what Bill x reader’s relationship.
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Note- If one of the letters is flagged with an asterixis * it means it is slightly suggestive or NSFW.
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A- Affection
Bill is actually quite affectionate with you, always preferring to have one arm around you shoulders when sitting on the couch together, holding your hand, quick kisses on the head, cheek and shoulder. Warm hugs from behind, with Bill resting his chin on your head. He likes to reassure himself by being in the comfort of your company, and it always feels so strange when he’s away from you filming on set. He likes to cuddle a lot when he wants to relax and unwind, because Bill is a pretty busy dude so whenever he can get the chance to sit back and rest with you, it’s usually on the bed taking a quick power nap before it’s back to it again.
B- Buying gifts
Bill isn’t really big on receiving big fancy gifts, because really, what would he need them for? You are the same. He does make sure to stop at each place on his press tours and pick out a souvenir to bring home to you. He also likes bringing home little props or souvenirs from set. You still have the little Pennywise teddy he got you sitting over on your desk. The little red pom-pom nose and the orange yarn fluffy hair is so adorable.
C- Comfort
When you are feeling down or sad, Bill can nearly always pick up on it straight away. He has a way with reading people’s emotions and then employing the method of comfort that would best suit the situation. If you want to talk, he will listen, and if you want to be left alone, he will do that, but not for too long.
He’ll check up on you every so often through the day just to make sure you’re okay. Bill’s warm, gigantic hugs and reassuring kisses always manage to make you feel a bit better. When it’s Bill whose feeling off, you let him talk. Bill isn’t the kind of guy to be able to keep things bottled up for a long period of time because it tends to make him feel tired and weighed down, and that’s not a fun time for either of you. You always listen to him when he vents everything he’s feeling, usually with his head in your lap and you playing with his hair or his hands.
D- Date
Bill would be a chill, relaxing type of guy when it comes to dates. He knows that you don’t want to be doing something big and exciting every single time, that would be tiring. He loves taking you out for dinner, but he loves making dinner for you and setting up a romantic little dinner date out on the porch or terrace, and surprising you. Often, dates between you two will be completely out of the blue. ‘Hey, want to go somewhere?’ ‘Hey lets go for a picnic by the beach’.
On the days when you guys do feel like doing something more adventurous, the zoo tends to be the fan favourite, and you also like to go skiing, and hiking to see new places and things.
E- Encouragement/Excitement
You are both very supportive of each other and your professions, so much so that as soon as the other person catches a whiff of success, you are there to celebrate with each other by any means. You and Bill like to hype each other up and get all excited when the other person gets excited, almost as if your happiness is conjoined. You are always excited for Bill’s new projects, and support him through it all the way up until it’s completed and ready for the world to see.
F- Fighting
Bill likes to avoid conflict, especially if it involves any kind of yelling and screaming at you, someone he loves. He doesn’t believe that yelling helps at all, infact it only makes matters worse, and instead of actually getting the other person to listen to them, it only makes them more mad and they keep on yelling when no one is actually listening. He doesn’t like yelling at you because it feels almost violent, and he doesn’t want to scare you into listening to him. He’s aware of how intimidating he looks when he’s mad. He encourages the both of you to instead sit down and talk about things maturely, talking about how he feels and why he feels that way, and always attentively listening to what you have to say as well. It’s important in the relationship that you have a sense of equality, that both go heard and your opinions both valued. From then on, depending on the severity of the argument, you move on to figure out the best solution to moving past it or around it.
G- Gestures
Bill is big on friendly, helpful little gestures to remind you that he loves you. You both like to leave little notes in places for each other to find, with quotes or reassurances written on them like ‘You can do this!’ ‘I love you!’ ‘You look amazing today’. It gives you guys a little confidence boost, because sometimes you both need it. In terms of physical gestures, Bill likes to hold your hand a lot of the time when you walk, almost as if you might wander off and get lost if he lets go. He also likes to buy you flowers. If he sees a bunch of flowers in the shop window from the corner of his eye, and he instantly thinks of you, he will buy them for you. You aren’t really sure what use you would have for flowers, but you absolutely admire the sweet gesture.
H- How you sleep
It’s no secret that Bill is a very tall and lanky person. Because of this, sometimes its hard for him to find just the right position to sleep it, however he has learned to adjust and adapt to any position or place to make it feel comfortable. He lays on his back a lot of the time and pulls you close to him, either tucked up beside him with your arm across his torso, or with your head on his chest or heart while he plays with your hair.
You both talk for hours, and will stay up until you fall asleep mid conversation. It’s funny when Bill will be talking, and he goes to ask you a question, and he finds you fast asleep beside him. ‘Seriously? Did you just fall asleep on me? Were you listening to any of that?”
I- Impression
When Bill was first introduced to you, he thought you were so gorgeous and beautiful, with that amazing smile and beautiful eyes. He is a bit nervous at the best of times, but you made him particularly nervous. He always was conscious over the way he spoke to you and how he appealed to you. He’s had a giant crush on you since the day he met you, and knew instantly that if he didn’t do something to make you his, he would never be the same.
Your impression of him was similar. You could not believe such a handsome guy was standing right there talking to you! He made you feel a bit self-conscious, and you couldn’t form a single coherent sentence in your mind without feeling overwhelmingly flushed by him standing next to you, or ‘accidentally’ brushing up against you.
J- Jokes
Are you and Bill a playful or more serious couple?
You two are able to maintain a healthy balance of both playful and serious. You like to tease each other a lot, particularly about the height difference, and Bill’s unholy inhuman tallness. You always joke to him about how secretly Bill must have been born in a zoo to a giraffe and then dropped in Sweden by accident.
You both know when to be serious though, and understand that not everything can be all fun and games. If someone isn’t feeling great, you can learn to adjust and turn the jokes down to make sure they are okay.
K- Kids
Bill would absolutely love to have kids with you, ideally two, not anywhere near as many as how many his parents had. He wants to be able to spread his fatherly love between children and make time for them both equally, and adore them as much as he adores you.
L- Love
What does Bill love the most about you?
Physically, Bill is in love with two things- your smile and your hair. Both of these things are the two things that he thinks are flawlessly, effortlessly perfect every single time he sees you, even if you wake up in the morning with a serious case of bedhead. But Bill loves everything about you, most of all how supportive you are, and how you are always there for him even if you don’t have to be.
M- Memory/moment
Your favourite memory of you and Bill together is how it felt when he kissed you for the first time. You remember all the tingling feelings, and how excited and nervous you were, but happy that this was finally happening.
Bill’s favourite memory is when you said yes to going out with him for the first time. He felt so accomplished and happy with himself, like if he could get the girl, he could do anything. He remembers feeling surprised that you said yes, and how scared he was that you would turn him down and tell him you weren’t interested in him in that way.
*N- Nudes
Usually, if you do send them, it’s when Bill is away in Toronto filming a movie and he’s missing you. You both tend to flirt over text more than you do in real life.
O- Optimist level
You and Bill are both optimistic and realistic. You can see both the good side of things and the bad.
P- Period
When you are on your period, Bill knows instantly that it’s gonna be a pretty crappy time for you, so he tries to make it as least crappy as possible. He has a basket of chocolate reserved just for you on the days when it’s bad, and stays home with you all day cuddling and watching movies. If you are in a significant amount of pain, he will do most practical things for you like house work. He’s very sweet and caring for you, running to the store to get products and shamelessly carrying them. Anything for you, he’s not embarrassed, he knows that it’s a normal thing and it should be normalized for boyfriends to buy their girlfriends products.
Q- Quality Time- how do you spend it?
You and Bill spend all the time you can possibly get with each other. All the time is quality time with you guys, and Bill makes time to set aside his work or script reading to spend time with you. He’s away for long periods of time, so he wants to make sure that he can spend enough time with you to make up for that, and make sure that you know he loves you.
R- Romantic- how much of a romantic are they?
Oh. Bill is romantic. He especially likes to wine and dine with you, making the whole setting perfect just for you. He manages to make everything romantic, everything he does, and you aren’t sure if he’s doing it on purpose or whether that’s just him as a person.
*S- Sex
You and Bill do it often, but its not seen as something at the top of importance between you. You prefer to spend time talking together and just enjoying each other’s company, rather than getting all physical. That kind of intimacy is done in the bedroom every couple of days or so, or really whenever you feel the need to. It’s important to also note that Bill is very respectful about it, and always makes sure that whatever he does you are comfortable with.
Anywhere outside the privacy of the bedroom for him always feels so awkward, and he likes both of you to be comfortable.
T- Trust
You trust Bill with your life, and he trusts you too. You feel safe opening up to him and telling him things that you normally wouldn’t tell people. You know that he would never cheat on you, and don’t get easily jealous by girls that he kisses or fake hooks up with in movies. You know that this is all staged and it is a part of acting, and always makes sure that Bill knows that it’s okay.
U- Understand
You and Bill understand each other very well. There are of course some things that you don’t get about each other, like why you like certain foods that do not go together, why you believe something, things like that. You think alike in terms of the way you look at life, and how you see the world. You feel like you guys just get each other, y’know?
V- Vulnerability
Bill is very open with you about how he feels, and you are to him as well. If he’s sad or upset he will tell you and talk about it. He isn’t afraid that crying will make him seem less of a man, and also doesn’t judge you when you cry around him. Bill is a sap and definitely cries in sad scenes of movies.
W- Wedding- What would your ideal wedding be?
Bill would want it to be fantastic and memorable, as I’m sure everyone would. His family and friends would be there and so would yours. It would be an outdoors wedding beneath the sunshine- provided it doesn’t rain. You would most likely go on a honeymoon to somewhere you have both always wanted to go, and it would be an amazing, relaxing get away.
*X- X-rated
Does Bill have any kinks?
Most likely no, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t down to try new things with you.
Y- Young and beautiful- how long will you guys last?
As far as Bill is concerned, you will have children, grandchildren, and get old together. You are gorgeous now, and you will always be gorgeous to him. He is big on committing to you, and you are to him.
Z- Zing!
How much excitement is there in your relationship?
You guys are always adapting and adjusting to Bill being away and all kinds of things that life might throw at you. It’s pretty exciting dating an actor, isn’t it?
The thrill of secrecy and not getting caught. You often like to make bets on who will be noticed in a crowd first, you or him?
Life is just full of wonders and mystery, and you can’t wait to explore more of those together!
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Note- I am aware that Skarsgard is supposed to be written with an accent on the last A, but I write these lists on my laptop and the keyboard does not have an option for that.
Thank you for reading! It took me a little while to put this A-Z list together and I would appreciate if you left a like, a comment or whatever you can to help me out.
Want to request a Bill Skarsgard A-Z list? With your own prompt, and your desired character?
Just click here and you will be taken to the explanation page.
#bill#bill skarsgard#bill skasgård#bill skarsgård imagine#bill skarsgard characters#roman godfrey#roman godfrey x reader#bill skarsgard x reader#skarsgard#imagines#oneshot#hemlock grove#assassionation nation#bill skarsgard mark#pennywise actor#pennywise#henry pearl#battlecreek#deadpool 2#zeitgeist#marvel#Mathew Allegiant#allegiant#bill skarsgård x reader#x reader#alphabet list#preferences#preference list
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Almost Had Me Believing It - Part 4
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 1569
Warnings: Mutual pining, smut
Summary: An undercover operation playing Bucky Barnes’ wife is a dream come true. Playing house in the suburbs while trying to take down a drug ring brings you and Bucky closer but a nosy neighbor causes trouble in paradise.
A/N: Divider by @whimsicalrogers
Almost Had Me Believing It Series Masterlist
A few days later you and Bucky sit at breakfast discussing how to get more information about Frank.
“Well, we know one way I could get in his house but I’d rather chew glass.” You grouse.
“You, uh, you don’t find him attractive?” Bucky stutters.
“No. I mean, Frank’s a good looking guy, but he’s not a good person. He gives me the creeps, honestly.” You shudder.
Bucky reins in his smile at hearing that. He hated the idea of you liking any other man. At some point while running through the meadow yesterday, he realized you weren’t afraid of him. He was chasing you and you had this glorious smile on your face. There was no fear or anxiety about you as he tackled you to the ground. You had laughed as he did it and held onto him during the ride as if you felt safe with him. It was nothing short of a miracle in Bucky’s eyes. Very few people in his life watched him approach them without some apprehension in their eyes or tension in their body and nobody looked to him as a refuge of safety but you had. He still didn’t think he deserved it but he was determined to be a safe place and friend to you.
“He’s not like you.” You say the sentence, pulling Bucky out of his thoughts, while causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach.
“Like me?” Bucky says in surprise.
“You’re a good looking guy but you’re also good and sweet and kind. You want to help people, not destroy them, not hurt them. And you don’t give me the creeps.” You laugh lightly hoping to cover the emotions you feel towards the man in front of you.
Bucky chuckles, “I’m glad I don’t give you the creeps.”
“Not at all.” You smile at him.
“You’re a peach.”
You smile at him and then the light bulb goes on over your head, “I have an idea.” You grab a large cup from the cabinet.
“What are you doing?” Bucky asks.
“Well, we are out of sugar.”
“No, we’re not. It’s right there on the counter.”
You take the container and dump it out in the trash, “Oops. As I was saying, we’re out of sugar. I’m gonna go borrow a cup from our neighbor.”
“How does that get us more information about him?”
“He’ll invite me in and I’ll plant a bug.” You say as you pull one of the devices out of your pocket.
“I’ll go with you.” Bucky says.
“That’d look a little strange. Maybe he’ll let his guard down if I’m alone.”
“I don’t like you being alone with him.”
“I’ll be fine, Bucky. If I can take you to the mat I don't think I’ll have a problem with Frank.” You smirk at the supersoldier. Bucky gives you a nod and crosses his arms looking unhappy. “I’ll be back.” You say as you head for the door.
Frank answers his front door within a couple of minutes and smiles, “Hey. What’s up?”
“I’ve come to beg a favor of a benevolent neighbor.” You repeat the phrase Frank had used a few days ago.
Frank laughs, “Are you in need of coffee?”
“Sugar. I knocked the container over and lost it all on the floor. Do you have some to spare?” You keep your expression self-deprecating and sweet.
“Of course. Come on in. I have all kinds of sugar you can have, gorgeous.”
“I just need the white granulated kind,” you giggle as you slip past him into the house.
You follow Frank to the kitchen. He takes the cup from your hand and goes to the pantry to retrieve the sugar for you. Taking a quick assessment of the available real estate for a bug, you attach it to a space where you hope it can pick up sound in both the kitchen and living room.
“So, I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you.” Frank says as he emerges.
“Yeah?”
“About a job.”
“Oh! Great. Where?” You ask.
“Do you have any bookkeeping experience?” Frank asks.
“Yes. I worked for a couple of small offices where I doubled as the office manager as well as nurse. I’m pretty decent at that kind of thing. Where’s the job?”
“Here.”
“What?” You look at him utterly confused.
“You know I’m a landlord and I have several properties. I need someone to do billing, take the payments, handle utilities, deal with the tenant requests. The accounting side has never been my strong suit and I added three more properties in the past year. It would just be part-time. If you're interested…”
“Part-time is exactly what I’m looking for right now. Do you want me to bring you a resume?”
“I’ll take you at your word.” Frank winks. “Why don’t you come back after lunch and I’ll have everything together for us to look at?”
“Are you sure about this? I don’t want to take advantage of our friendship, Frank.”
“I’m sure, gorgeous.” Frank puts an arm around your shoulders as he walks you to the door. “I’ll see you this afternoon, right?”
“Okay. Thanks, Frank.” You smile as you head back to your house. You find Bucky in the office messing with the receiver. “Is it working?”
“As soon as you attached it, I could hear everything. A job offer, huh?” Bucky raises an eyebrow.
“Yeah. A lot of access that way.” You smile.
“A lot of time alone with you.” Bucky grouses.
“I’ll be okay, Bucky. This is good.”
--
You had spent the afternoon with Frank going over everything with him touching you nearly constantly. Your skin crawled but you managed to play him off. His books really were a mess and you arranged to work with him for the next few afternoons to get things in order. This would afford you the opportunity to plant more bugs. Hopefully, this would also help you gain Frank’s trust and get him to eventually reveal his not so legal dealings. Bucky was unhappy with your report of the afternoon. He did not like you spending so much time alone with Frank.
“Come here, Doll.” Bucky beckons to you from the living room.
“What’s up?” You ask.
Bucky puts his arms around you and his hands grab your ass, “Jump.”
You wrap your arms around Bucky’s neck and jump wrapping your legs around him. Bucky presses you against the wall and you whisper, “Frank watching us?”
“Yup.” Bucky says as he presses his lips to the side of your neck. You arch your neck to give him better access. “Thought he might need another show. Don’t want him getting any ideas that you working for him is gonna get him anywhere.”
“I appreciate that.” You are desperately trying to hold in your moans as Bucky kisses your neck and your hands grasp his hair. Giving in to your own impulse, you pull his head back and meet his lips with your own. Bucky melds his mouth to yours and you feel his hands flex their grasp on your ass. His tongue slides into your mouth and the moan you had been holding in slips out. Your hips shift of their own accord and you can feel Bucky’s erection pressed against you. Bucky pushes away from the wall and carries you down the hallway. He pulls his lips away from yours and gently lowers you to the floor outside your room.
“You okay?” He asks.
“Yeah, you?”
“Yeah.” He looks at you for a moment. “I hope you didn’t mind. I know I was touching-”
“Bucky. It’s fine. You’re just trying to keep Frank off me. I appreciate that. Plus, you're my husband, right?” You smile.
“Yeah. I just, I don’t want to take advantage of the situation.” Bucky says.
“I know you wouldn’t do that, Bucky. Don’t worry, okay? Good night.” You hug him around his torso and scurry into your room.
Bucky retreats to his room and flops down on the bed. You had reassured him that you knew he wouldn’t take advantage, but that’s exactly what he was doing. He saw an opportunity to touch you again and he couldn’t pass it up. You had felt and tasted just as sweet as the first time he’d touched you a few nights ago. You were the one who’d kissed him though. For a minute, he allowed himself to indulge in the thought that you had wanted it, that you had enjoyed it. That your moan had been real. The kiss had been real. The way you rolled your hips against him was because you wanted him, too.
Bucky’s hand moved of their own volition and pushed down his sweats. His cock was painfully hard and he had to relieve the pressure. Fisting himself he remembers your sweet whimpers when he had rutted against you the other night, the moans you released as the two of you kissed tonight, and he imagines his hand is you wrapped around him. He thinks of how wet you would be as he presses into you and the breathy little sounds you’d make as he bottomed out inside you. “Fuck.” Bucky whispers as he imagined your face scrunched up in ecstasy. His hand speeds up as he pictures you riding him and he bucks up into his hand. “Fuck.” he whispers one more time as he comes all over his stomach.
Part 5
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#Bucky#Bucky x you#Bucky x reader#Bucky series#Bucky fluff#Bucky angst#Bucky fanfic#Bucky fanfiction#Bucky Barnes#Bucky Barnes x you#Bucky Barnes x reader#Bucky Barnes series#Bucky Barnes fluff#Bucky Barnes angst#Bucky Barnes fanfic#Bucky Barnes fanfiction#The Winter Soldier#Winter Soldier#Winter Soldier x you#Winter Soldier x reader#Winter Soldier fluff#Winter Soldier angst#Winter Soldier fanfic#Winter Soldier fanfiction#captain america#marvel#avengers#smut#mutual pining#Bucky mutual pining
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Fools Rush In: Chapter 3
Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Strangers-to-lovers, age gap!AU (reader is 30, Jungkook is 23), Angst, smut, fluff
Summary: You deliver the news to Jungkook and he makes his own decision.
Warnings: None to note.
WC: 2.1K
Two weeks later, you found yourself staring blankly at the large number “25″ that was on the front door of what you had recently found out was Jungkook’s apartment.
You had come to Seoul to compete in the Korea Open so you decided to try and look Jungkook up. You had Yoongi get in touch with some of the organizers of the French Open in order to get his information and luckily, he lived in an apartment right in the city.
Even though you had made the decision to keep the baby and raise them alone if you had to, you did feel as though Jungkook deserved to at least know so that he could make his own decision. That’s why you had been standing in front of his door for the better part of 10 minutes, trying to work up the courage to knock on the damn door.
Just as you raised your hand to knock, the front door flew open, almost making your heart beat out of your chest.
“Are you the delivery woman?” A tall, broad shoulder man asked and you shook your head as you lowered your hand.
“No. I’m actually looking for Jeon Jungkook,” you replied.
“Ah, he’s inside,” the man told you. “Would you like to come in?”
“Yes, thank you,” you smiled, waiting until the man had stepped aside before you walked inside and slipped off your sandals.
“I’m Jin, Jungkook’s roommate,” Jin introduced himself as he shut the front door.
“I’m Y/N L/N,” you said.
“Wait, you play tennis right?”
“Yeah, that’s me,” you nodded.
“I though you looked familiar!” Jin exclaimed, making you laugh. “What are you doing here to see Jungkookie?”
“Uh, I’m just,-”
“Hey hyung, was that the food?” Jungkook asked as he strolled out of his bedroom, walking over to the front door before freezing in his spot when he saw you. “Y/N, hi.”
“Hi,” you smiled, lifting your hand and waving a little.
“What are you doing here?” He wondered as he paced over to you.
“I’m sorry for just popping up like this but I needed to talk to you,” you stated seriously as you looked at him and although you could tell from the raising of his brow that he was confused, he turned to look at Jin.
“Can you give us a second hyung?” Jungkook requested and Jin nodded.
“It was nice meeting you Y/N,” Jin smiled and you nodded to him before he walked away and stepped into another room next to the one that Jungkook had come out of. Once the door closed behind him, Jungkook looked at you again.
“Do you want to come sit down?” He offered, gesturing to the couch.
“Sure, thanks,” you murmured as you walked over to the couch, sitting down on the edge and Jungkook sat himself down next to you.
“So, how have you been?” He wondered. “It’s been like three months since the French Open right?”
“Yeah, and I’ve been ok,” you shrugged. “Just getting ready for the Korea Open.”
“Oh, you’re competing in that?”
“Yep.”
“You’re gonna kill it,” he smiled and you couldn’t help the way that your cheeks warmed up at the praise.
“Thanks,” you chuckled. “What about you, how have you been?”
“Good, good, can’t complain,” he said. “Just been working a lot but that’s it really.”
“Still doing photography?”
“Yeah, that’s what helps pay my half of the bills,” Jungkook laughed. “I’m sure you didn’t come here just to ask me about photography though.”
“I didn’t,” you giggled awkwardly. “So, do you remember the night of the French Open, when we spent the night together?”
“Don’t I?” He smirked. “I was a little miffed that you left without saying goodbye but I figured that the whole “drunken one night stand” thing wasn’t typical for you.”
“It’s not and I’m sorry for that, by the way,” you apologized. “I kind of panicked when I woke up.”
“I get it, don’t worry about it,” he waved his hand dismissively. “But why are you asking if I remember that night?”
“Well, um, I kind of...maybe....might’ve gotten pregnant that night,” you revealed.
“Yeah right,” he laughed loudly. “Be serious Y/N.”
“That’s the terrifying thing Jungkook, I am being serious,” you insisted. “I’m pregnant.” The smile slowly slipped off of Jungkook’s face as he realized that you weren’t joking, and you watched as he abruptly stood up from the couch and began to pace the length of the living room.
“What the fuck?” He muttered. “We used a condom.”
“It had to have broken.”
“You’re a woman that plays sports, wouldn’t you be on birth control?”
“I haven’t been in a committed relationship in two years and I don’t do the whole “one night stand” thing, remember?” You explained.
“You literally disappeared on me and had me wondering if the whole night that we spent together even fucking happened and then suddenly, you show up and tell me that you’re pregnant,” he huffed, pausing his pacing in order to look at you. “I’m just supposed to accept this?”
“I know it’s a lot to take in and it’s out of nowhere,” you began. “It only takes one time though. So yes, I am pregnant and you’re the father. I thought you deserved to know.”
“So does that mean you’re going to keep it?” He questioned and you nodded your head.
“Yes, I am.”
“I don’t think I can be a father right now Y/N,” he sighed, resuming his pacing. “I just graduated from university and I’m up to my eyeballs in fucking debt that I only just started paying back and I’m only 23! I can’t be anyone’s father at 23!”
“Look, you don’t have to be involved,” you said and he stopped in his tracks. “I only came here to tell you. I can raise the baby on my own if I have to.”
“And what, I’m left to be the big bad guy who isn’t in his own kid’s life?”
“Any decision that you make going forward is your own,” you told him. “I didn’t want you to find out somewhere else because I am going to have to go public with my pregnancy eventually, and I didn’t want to keep the baby from you if you did want to be involved. I just wanted to tell you so that you could make an informed decision, that’s all.”
Just then, a door opened and Jin walked back into the living room.
“Hey Jungkook-ah, Taehyung said that he wants to go out for dinner so I canceled takeout, that ok?” Jin asked and it took Jungkook a few seconds to focus before he looked over at his hyung.
“Yeah, that’s fine,” Jungkook agreed easily.
“I should get going,” you suddenly said, getting up from the couch and reaching into your purse, pulling out a card before walking over to Jungkook and handing it to him. “This has my number and the address of where I’m staying for the next few weeks on it. Take all of the time that you need to think things through and then let me know.”
“Alright,” he replied and you gave him a small, closed mouthed smile before walking to the front door and letting yourself out.
......................................
“Y/N’s pregnant,” Jungkook confessed, two bottles of soju deep into dinner, which caused both Jin’s and Taehyung’s eyes to widen. “And I’m the father.”
“Tennis legend Y/N L/N?” Taehyung asked for confirmation and Jungkook nodded.
“That one.”
“How the hell did you hook up with her?” Jin laughed.
“Met her at the French Open, we talked for a little bit, and then went back to my hotel room,” Jungkook replied. “I woke up the next morning and she was gone so I didn’t think much of it. It was just a one night stand, you know?”
“Is that why she showed up and why you’ve had a bottle of soju in your hands since we got here?” Jin wondered and Jungkook nodded again.
“Yep.”
“Well, are you gonna be involved?” Jin asked.
“I’m not sure,” he admitted, yelping when Jin reached over and smacked the back of his head.
“What the hell do you mean, you’re not sure?” Jin scoffed. “You can’t just have a child out in the world that you don’t know.”
“Wait hyung, just because Jungkook consented to sex doesn’t mean that he consented to having a baby,” Taehyung pointed out.
“He consented to the possibility of having a baby when he didn’t protect himself and wrap his dick up,” Jin shot back.
“Actually, I did but it broke,” Jungkook muttered before taking another gulp of soju. “It’s not like I don’t want to be there though. In fact, my first instinct is to call her and tell her that I’ll be there for whatever she needs.”
“What’s stopping you then?” Taehyung questioned.
“She’s just...she’s one of the biggest athletes in the world and she’s gonna go down in history as one of the greats while I’m just a 23 kid who doesn’t even know where my life is going. She has it all together and she doesn’t really need me. Hell, she might even be better off without me.”
“It’s not about if she needs you or not though, it’s about you being there for your child,” Jin told him.
“She said that she could raise the baby alone if she had to,” Jungkook mentioned.
“Just because she can, it doesn’t mean that she should have to,” Jin stated and for some reason, that sentence stuck with Jungkook as he swallowed down the rest of the soju that was in the bottle.
......................................
A few days after you showed up to his apartment, Jungkook couldn’t get you or the baby out of his mind. He never expected to be in this situation at only 23 years old but the more that he thought about it, he realized that he wasn’t completely...afraid of it like he first thought he was.
Sure, he somewhat freaked out when you first told him and then went into catatonic shock afterwards but the more that he thought about it, the easier it became for him to warm up to the idea.
Jungkook always wanted kids and even though the two of you weren’t married and weren’t a traditional couple by any means, he knew that you could be a good mother. You were determined, hardworking, and passionate and those were all qualities that he admired in a person. He figured that if he were going to have an unexpected baby with anyone, then why not it be you?
He was also a person that believed in fate and destiny. If he managed to get you pregnant despite the two of you using protection and you still chose the keep the baby even before knowing if Jungkook was going to be involved or not, it all had to be a part of some larger plan that neither of you were privy to.
In the end, that was the thought that he decided to put trust in and that led to him finding the card that you had given him, dialing your number.
“Hello?” You answered a little breathlessly.
“Y/N, it’s Jungkook,” he said. “Did I call at a bad time?”
“Not at all, I was hitting the ball around with my coach,” you chuckled. “That’s why I’m out of breath.”
“Ah ok,” he nodded. “Well, I just wanted to call you because I’ve been thinking a lot about you and the baby, and I’ve decided that I want to be involved in their life.”
“Really?” You gasped softly.
“Yeah. I mean, I can’t just let you raise them by yourself when you didn’t create them by yourself,” he sighed.
“I don’t want you to feel forced though, Jungkook,” you explained. “I know that this is a weird situation but I don’t want you to resent me or worse, the baby. I meant it when I said that I can do this own my own if need be.”
“Just because you can do it on your own, doesn’t mean that you should,” Jungkook pointed out, echoing what Jin had told him and you just smiled softly to yourself. “You’re gonna have to be patient with me though, because I don’t have the slightest idea of how this whole parenting thing goes.”
“That makes two of us,” you giggled. “But we’ll figure it out together, ok?”
“Alright,” he agreed.
“I have my first doctor’s appointment in three days, on Thursday and you are welcome to come if you want,” you offered.
“You haven’t had a doctor’s appointment yet?”
“I couldn’t get one in the States before I had to leave to come here for the Open so I just figured that I’d wait,” you told him.
“Oh ok. Well, yeah,” he replied. “I’d love to come.”
“Cool. I’ll text you the details, ok?”
“Ok. Bye Y/N,” he said.
“Bye Jungkook,” you smiled before hanging up the phone. As Jungkook pulled his phone away from his ear, he couldn’t help but to feel oddly at ease about the whole situation. He felt deep down that everything would be ok, and he just hoped that it actually turned out that way as well.
......................................
Tag List: @mwitsmejk @hey-youre-appreciated @bettyschwallocksyee @jaiuneamesolitaiire @knowlestaehyung @missseoulite @afangirllikeme-blog @fan-ati--c @d-noona @bang-bang-bangtxn @claricedelune @daydreambrliever @dunixxd @unicornbabylover @paperpurple @addictedtohobi @bbtsficrecs @bts-junseagull @eltrain80
#bts#bangtanarmynet#bts reactions#bts jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#bts x reader#bts smut#bts angst#bts fluff#bts imagines#bts scenarios
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May I pretty pls request some smutty HCs or a fic about how the VDL boys (or just Charles🥵) would react to hiding in a small closet together with their crush? If that makes sense lol
I LOVE THIS TROPE AHHHH
It was your idea to rob the Van Horn Mansion. You heard that it was abandoned and that some low level criminals were using it to stash money. It sounded like a simple job, so you and your favourite outlaw decided to go steal the cash.
As you searched the house, the approaching sound of hooves outside quickly caught your attention. Just before the criminals entered the mansion, you grabbed your friend and pulled him inside a small closet to hide in.
Arthur
Arthur stumbles into the closet, bumping against you as he did. "Oh," realising how small the space was and how his body pressed against yours, his face turns red "uh, sorry". He tries to move and give you more space but that's basically impossible to do.
He keeps his hands flat against the wall, hesitant to accidentally touch you in case you get uncomfortable. Arthur can't believe that this is happening. He's been secretly pining over you for a while so to be in this scenario with you is kinda like a dream.
Arthur glances down at you, still trying to comprehend how close you are to him. You look up to meet his eyes and Arthur suddenly becomes very aware of how near his lips are to yours.
"You wanna take the lead on this?" Arthur whispers to you, his voice husky as he gestures to the criminals on the other side of the door. If you'd prefer to wait it out then Arthur has no problem staying inside the closet with you for as long as you want.
Charles
Charles thinks it's a good idea to go into the closet. Ye don't know how many criminals there are so it's better to wait until they're relaxed in the mansion before ambushing them.
The second ye step into the closet, he sees how small it is so he distracts himself by listening for the outlaws. He likes having you this close to him but it makes him nervous so thinking of a good ambush plan keeps his brain busy.
Charles doesn't usually get nervous or flustered but this situation definitely gets his heart racing. "Do you mind?" he hovers his hands by your waist, awaiting your permission before touching you. I mean, technically your bodies are already touching because of the limited space but Charles asks anyways.
He speaks quietly, trying to come up with the best way to kill these guys as you rest your head on his chest. Even though he's talking about whether it'd be easier to slit their throats or use throwing knives, his voice is so calming and you can't help but relax into him.
Dutch
"Well isn't this quite the predicament" Dutch smiles. Dutch has been trying to charm you for a while now so being stuck in here with you is like a blessing from the gods.
He already has his arms wrapped around you and when you're not sure where to put your arms, Dutch guides you to rest them on his chest. I swear this man will turn his charms up to 110%
Dutch says he isn't too sure if it's a good idea to leave the closet with your guns blazing. Normally he would have no problem going out and taking on every single one of them but Dutch doesn't want the moment to end.
Bringing his hand up, Dutch's knuckles softly graze past your cheek. He promises you that you'll both get out of this safely. But Dutch won't make the first move, he wants you to do that so he knows you're certain about this.
Micah
Micah’s confused. He loves a good gunfight so to be suddenly pulled into a closet and away from the enemy is enough to really baffle his brain. But then Micah adjusts to how little space there is in this closet and he comes to the conclusion that the outlaws can wait.
“Well, ain’t this cosy” he chuckles lowly, sending a shiver up your spine. Of course Micah makes little remarks here and there, mainly insinuating how you pulled him in here cause you wanted him all to yourself for a bit longer.
It’s been a while since anyone’s physically been this close to Micah so although he acts like this is no big deal, this is something he’s gonna replay in his head over and over again for the next few weeks.
If you make any flirty comments back, it certainly takes Micah by surprise but he won’t actually do anything in the closet with you. After all, why should ye restrict yourselves to a small closet? Giving you a sly wink, Micah kicks open the closet door and starts shooting.
John
John goes rushing into the closet so fast, he nearly runs straight into the back of it. Thankfully you're there to stop him as he clumsily adjusts to the space. He's completely dumbfounded by how close you two are.
He tries to move to give you more room, shuffling around as his legs brush against yours. John has a million thoughts all hurrying through his head. Does his breath smell? Is it obvious he's nervous?
John keeps his arms down by his side but can't keep his legs still. They're constantly knocking off of your legs until you finally shimmy closer to him so he stops fidgeting around.
John’s very nervous but with you by his side, he slowly calms down. His biggest concern is you feeling uncomfortable with him being this close to you so when you come closer to him, John realises you don’t mind and he finally relaxes.
Javier
Javier's been sweet on you for so goddamn long. When you first pulled him into the closet, he was so focused on keeping you protected that his brain didn't comprehend how tight the space was.
He automatically pulled you close to him, his hand trailing up and down your back in a comforting motion as his other hand unholsters his revolver. It takes Javier a few minutes to relax a little and he looks around at the cramped room.
"Are you alright?" he whispers "You're not nervous, are you?". And no, Javier isn't referring to you getting nervous because you’re so close to him. Right now Javier wants to make sure you're not apprehensive from suddenly being stuck in a goddamn closet.
He doesn't know if you're claustrophobic or not so he tries to keep you calm and not focused on how tiny the space around you is. Javier assures you that you'll be out of there soon and if it’ll help you calm down, he offers to buy you a drink before ye head back to camp.
Bill
Bill is on high alert. He knows there’s criminals nearby and he’s readying himself for a fight. Considering you were the one that yanked him into the closet, he presumes you have a plan.
“So what’re we gonna do?” he asks, looking at you. He’s taken aback by how close his face is to yours and Bill’s cheeks quickly turn a rosy red colour.
Bill isn’t too sure where he should look or where he should put his arms but once you suggest he puts his arms around you so ye’re not in such an awkward position, Bill instantly obliges.
Bill let’s you take the lead completely. He knows you’re smart and will know how to get out of this. If you want to wait a little longer before leaving the closet or jump out and start a gunfight, Bill goes along with whatever your decision is.
Sean
Sean has a lot of adrenaline. Normally he gets excited when he’s around you anyways but now that there’s outlaws close by too, his adrenaline is at an all time high.
His eyes go wide when he realises how close you are to him. A part of him wants to throw caution to the wind and kiss you but another part of him completely freezes.
Sean can’t help but stare at your lips, debating whether it’d be a good idea or not. He tries to move in the closet and that’s when he properly feels it. Now all his past romantic thoughts are gone and he’s getting flustered.
“Y-you know, these just happen randomly” he blurts, gesturing down to his boner “so we can just pretend it’s not there if you like”. He thinks he might die from embarrassment.
#yo why tf did I make these so long lol#hope you enjoy them anon!#honestly tho these were v fun to write#arthur morgan#dutch van der linde#rdr2#charles smith#javier escuella#micah bell#john marston#bill williamson#sean macguire#headcanons#writings
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bts reaction -> you do something that upsets/angers them
woah! finally, a new reaction post??
(all gifs used are not mine!)
Namjoon:
Well, well, well, what could you have possibly said to create an argument with Namjoon. He, for one, doesn’t like arguments. He would instead talk to you and settle all the problems without raising his voice.
But if the argument does get too far, he’s making sure that he gets his point across, even if his words might sting.
Namjoon sits on the edge of the bed, looking up at you who was standing in front of him with your arms crossed.
“I did nothing wrong, Y/n,” he states with a deep yet calm tone, “You didn’t tell me that I had to run errands. How would I when I’m in the studio with the boys?”
He raises his brow when you stomp your feet on the wooden floor. Eyeing you up and down, his blood slowly rises when he feels like you’re acting insensitive.
“But you knew that we had no groceries left!”
Namjoon suppresses his anger like he always does, “Stop being selfish, Y/n. Tell me, who’s paying your bills?” he points his chin out.
“Hey, I pay half of our bills!”
“There you go. That just means you also shouldn’t be depending on me so much when I’m busy doing work, okay?”
(aln: this gif is so fucking hot istg i’m on my knees)
Seokjin:
You feel the other side of the bed dip, signaling that someone had come into bed with you. Peeking your eyes open just slightly, you feel your body relaxing as you finally saw Seokjin after a long, hard day.
“Hey, darling,” you whisper, scooting closer to him to hug his body. Seokjin murmurs something under his breath, but you didn’t quite grasped what it was.
Seokjin moves around, furrowing his eyebrows as a groan escapes his mouth. “Please…”
Ignoring the word, you instantly scatter his face with kisses, kissing his forehead and down to his plump lips.
“Not now, Y/n.”
“Why?” you pout, “lemme kiss you. I haven’t seen you all day.” You continue your mischief on him, placing open-mouthed kisses all over.
With eyes still closed, he pushes you away with both hands.
Shocked, you look at him in awe of what he just did.
“That’s so rude,” you scoff.
“I just want to sleep, Y/n. I’m tired and I don’t want to talk.”
Silence fills the room as you sullenly observe him pull the covers over his body. He rubs his face with his hands as he lets go of an exasperated sigh. “Get over it. I had a bad day, okay? I just want silence and a night of good sleep, that’s all I want right now.”
You know how Seokjin gets mad. His words are his weapon. You think that it’s much better leaving him alone than further pushing his buttons. Tomorrow will be another day.
Yoongi:
Yoongi doesn’t get angry that often. It’s quite impressive how he can calm himself down and avoid the anger. But it’s also alarming – because whenever he does get angry, he can become outright terrifying and a guilt-tripping madman.
“Is it because I don’t talk to you enough?” Yoongi alarms through the phone, the rage in his voice evident even though you can’t see his face. “Huh? Is it because I don’t give you enough attention?”
“It’s not like that! You have to understand that he’s just a friend!” You grip the phone tighter in your damp hand.
“I bet that guy treated you better, hm? I bet that’s the reason.” Yoongi’s voice was filled with bitter sarcasm as he speaks. The tone of his voice makes you clench your fist in annoyance. It was clear that he was manipulating you with his words, but there’s nothing you can do to stop him.
“You know what? Whatever, Y/n. You do whatever the fuck you want. I don’t care. But get ready for when I get home, you’re gonna get some serious fucking punishment.”
There was a long, thick silence after his sentence. You can feel your heartbeat thump loudly in your chest, upset in both yourself and in Yoongi.
“It isn’t my intention to upset you,” you sigh, “you’re the one that I care about. Always.”
“Then show it to me.”
You gasped. Are your actions not enough for him to believe you?
Hoseok:
Hoseok can be immensely intimidating when angry. Those eyes that can show the sweetest candy smile, with a single wrong move, they can turn into the most devilish gaze someone has ever seen.
Even his members find him scary whenever he’s mad.
As you watch the band practice their choreography for their performance next week, you couldn’t keep your eyes on Hoseok. The way his body just moves smoothly without any imperfections at all, it was clear that he was made for dancing and performing on stage.
Park Jimin calls off for a break and the members rush to their respective corners to catch their breath. Hoseok walks to the other side of the practice room where he sits down. Until suddenly, Jimin comes to your direction with a sly smirk on his face.
“Did you like the choreo?” he says, voice sort of raspy and out of breath. You giggle, “Yes. It was fire.”
“Mhm…” he places his hands on the table in front of you and leans forward, making your eyes widen. What is he doing…?
His eyes were almost slitted, licking his lips. You can’t help but notice small droplets of sweat trickling down from his temples and to his jawline, and how the light reflex the dampness of his neck. “Were you watching me?”
“H-Huh?” You stutter, mouth agape. “Yeah. You’re so good, Jimin, as always,” you respond while tucking your hair behind your ear.
Jimin’s grin widens, satisfied with your answer. Before he can give a verbal reply, Hoseok was right behind him and he swiftly pushes Jimin aside. He gives him a ‘look’ paired with a shake of his head. He whispers something to Jimin as he walks away.
Hoseok lifts his chin whilst he looks down at you with those menacing dark brown eyes. “Are you enjoying your time here?”
“Well,” you gulp, “Yes.”
He looks away for a second, brushing his hair back. You can hear that he took a deep sigh. Placing his forearms on the table, he stares directly into your eyes. His irises burn deep into you as he takes a heavy breath, “You know how possessive I am of you, Y/n. Only—” he lifts his right hand and caresses your cheek, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip, “only look at me.”
Jimin:
Jimin was clicking away on his laptop as he sits on the barstool, eyes glued on the screen for he didn’t even notice that you’ve walked up behind him. Slowly, you wrap your arms around his waist. His body jumps in utter shock.
“Babe,” he groans, “don’t do that again. Don’t surprise me like that.”
His tone was plain and sharp, bringing an attitude that signifies that he is annoyed.
Perhaps he needs more love and attention?
Inhaling his scent, you rest your cheek against his back. The sounds of the keys clicking were slowly becoming irritating, so you snatch his hands away to hold them in your grasp.
“Wha—Y/n!” he yells, but you unrightfully ignore him.
“C’mon, baby. Just rest for a while and come cuddle with me instead—”
“Cuddle?” he turns the stool around so he faces you. He scoffs, “You really want us to cuddle right now? When I’m in the middle of work?” he raises his voice at you, making you feel small. Trying your best not to be hurt by his razor-sharp timbre, you stand your ground. “Stop fucking annoying me and let me do my job, okay?”
“I’m just trying to—”
“—Just trying to help, yeah.” He rolls his eyes. “Please just, just leave me alone for a couple of minutes.”
But he will feel so fucking bad afterward, though. Jimin lets his emotions get the best of him and he used you to let it all out. You understand him, nonetheless. He is the type to bottle up his feelings. But deep down, you wish he would tell you everything that’s been bothering him, without having to keep them for himself.
Taehyung:
Taehyung rarely gets mad at you. But whenever he does, he’s quick to apologize and forget about the situation because he doesn’t want to cause a much bigger problem.
So, stealing his food from the fridge wouldn’t annoy him, right?
He was supposed to come home early for tonight, but he informed you that he’ll be a little bit late because of traffic.
Although your hunger couldn’t wait any longer.
Taking the box of food out of the fridge, you did not hesitate to gobble them all up to feed your rumbling stomach. You know for a fact that he’s going to empathize with you anyway.
As he comes home, though, you weren’t still finished and he stops his tracks when he sees that you were eating his meal.
“Y/n!” he gasps, “This one is yours!” he says, raising the takeout box he bought on the way home. “You said you wanted Chinese, didn’t you?”
Uh-oh…
You slowly stand up from the dining table, walking your way out of the area with his food still in your hands with a little cheeky grin.
Taehyung pouts as he whines out your name, “I hate it when you do this! I was craving for that!” He stomps his foot, “This is so upsetting, you know.”
You feel your heart clench at that, “I’m sorry…”
“Come here, you!” Taehyung all of a sudden, runs to catch you, signaling your fight or flight response. You shriek and dashed all around the dining room, trying to avoid Taehyung as much as possible. He had his arms sprawled across like an eagle, cackling.
Once you let him catch you, he hugs your body tightly in his grasp. “Hmm? You’re so naughty, babe. You know I can’t get mad at you for too long.” He grabs the food box away from you and sets it aside. He whispers, “But don’t do this again.”
Jungkook:
“I mean, look at her, Jungkook. Doesn’t her face irritate you?” you inquire at him, showing an Instagram picture of that one girl you despise. She had her whole butt on screen, tongue out, showing off her long acrylic nails.
Sitting on the couch beside you, Jungkook purses his lips and looks at the screen. “Hmm.” He says plainly.
“Goddamn, whenever I see her in real life my saliva turns sour, y’know? Ugh¸ I hate her so much.” You can feel your nerves rile up, throwing your feet on the coffee table in front of you.
Jungkook speaks, “What has she done to you?” he says in a monotone voice.
“Uh,” you turn to look at him, raising an eyebrow, “Why?”
He shrugs his shoulders, “Just wondering.”
“Okay, fine,” You roll your eyes, “She has done nothing, all right? But—”
He laughs unexpectedly, making you crease your forehead both in frustration and perplexity.
Jungkook himself was never the type to create arguments or say what he feels out loud. He would most likely internalize his thoughts and opinions and waits for the perfect timing to affront.
But if there’s a moment where he a situation feels unfair, he’s not afraid to stand up for what he believes.
“You know that’s wrong, darling,” he sighs, scooting over to you. He swings his right arm around your shoulder and tugs your figure closer. “There’s no reason to hate someone without having a definitive reason. C’mon, just ignore her if she bothers you so much.”
You frown, “But…”
“But what? Baby, if you do this one more time, I’ll be very upset. More upset in you than I am right now.”
Immediately, you jerk your head to look at him. With puppy dog eyes, you apologize, “Sorry.”
#jungkook reaction#jimin reaction#taehyung reaction#bts scenarios#hoseok scenarios#yoongi reaction#seokjin oneshots#namjoon imagines#bts reactions smut#bts angry#bts
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27 - pry on the weak (m).
Previous chapter in your arms (m).
m.list.
warnings: this series contains themes of yandere\mafia, blood, violence, mental health, drugs, non-con.
author note: this is pure fiction and it is not intended to romanticize any of the situations mentioned bellow.
The door was shut, it won’t open, it was cemented on every side expat for the small slit under it, you try knocking, shout for someone, anyone, but to no avail.
you try the window, it opens, but the sight is even scarier. The city is quiet, too quiet. No traffic in its usually busy streets, every window in the near buildings were closed, no birds in the sky, not a single sign of life, even the sun seems stuck in its place, time isn’t moving.
Outside the closed door, you can hear muffled sounds, you peak under the door and see the familiar white socks on a pair of feet moving around the room, it’s jaemin. you shout and scream for him, but he doesn’t even flinch, he just keeps going through his day.
You were forgotten, lost forever in his room.
You jolt out of the claustrophobic nightmare, everything around you looks sound and in its right place, including jaemin, who’s sleeping next you, it was a nightmare.. you didn’t think that a nightmare would have the audacity to visit you while you were sleeping in his arms.
You snuggle closer to him, too close, not minding if he wakes up right now, it would be ideal if he can listen to you telling him about the rude nightmare and sho It away..
.
.
.
He buckles under your pleads,
“fine.. you can come too”
The high pitched squeal you let out almost made him change his mind.
You wore a simple, body fitting black dress, a safe choice, you walked to the living room where jaemin was waiting for you, he was wearing a black suit, the black trousers making his long legs look extra inviting.
Jeno whistle from behind you when you spun to show jaemin your outfit, you roll your eyes at his ungentlemanly behavior,
But the way jaemin’s eyes were shinning, and the compliment “you look beautiful” made your heart flutter, but the butterflies were shot dead when jeno’s hand landed on your ass in a sharp slap.
You link arms with jaemin and make the short trip to the door across the hallway to chenle apartment, the door was open, you were welcomed by upbeat classical music, not what you’ve expected.
Inside, the apartment looked like an entire house by itself, it was three times bigger than your apartment, the atmosphere was intimidating, everyone looked expensive and beautiful, there was three type of guests, men, gorgeous women, and you.
Bite sized appetizers and trays of champion were being served along side an open bar at the corner, chandeliers were hanging off the ceiling and the big glass door opens to the terrace.
Your heart sunk and your stomach turned over inside of you. You cling to jaemin’s arm when you spot that face, haechan’s face.he approaches you and they all greeted each other, you keep looking else where, doing your best to ignore him.
“Hey man! Long time no see.. what are you doing here? You know chenle?” Yes good question jaemin, what is he doing here?
“Yeah yeah..” He leans closer and lowers his voice “he’s one of my top clients” he gestures to the tens of girls around.. and it clicks in your head that they were all escorts, brought by haechan, they were his girls. you didn’t even try to hide the look of disgust that was showing on your face.
“Hey handsome” a tall, brunette, doll like girl throws her arms around jeno, “haven’t seen you in a while” she seamlessly pout. He giggles and turns into a harmless puppy in her hands, she must be one of haechan girls too, of course he will pay for company, who would want to spend time with him.
Your attention turns back to the hushed conversation between haechan and jaemin,
“… no, his father is the of a one the leaders of the Chinese communist party, powerful man. and he’s the sole hire of multiple companies” haechan says.
“What is he doing here?” Jaemin asks.
“don’t know.. but based on what I have heard, he’s not staying for long..” haechan cuts himself as soon as he notice your interest in their conversation, “And how have you been doing sweet thing?”
oh the rage that went through you, you wished you could claw his eyes out, your distain is loud on your features. jaemin’s hand reach and hold yours, giving you a gentle squeeze, silently apologizing for breaking his promise of not having to see haechan again.
And of course Hacehan is anything but dumb, he reads your mood and turns back to jaemin “come, I want you to meet someone” .. “haa you never stop working, don’t you?” Jaemin let go of your hand and slips deeper into the crowd, leaving you standing awkwardly next to jeno and his baby.
You stomp with no destination in mind. you look around, amazed by everything, but you feel misplaced, the looks that were thrown your way, you didn’t belong here and everyone knew it, there was an underlining screech the luxuries mood.
You catch the back of jaemin’s head through the crowd, an unsuspected punch of something was delivered to your heart, throwing your mood completely off. he’s with a group of giggly girls, practically drooling over them.
you regret insisting on coming with him.. you should have known, but it’s too late now, you look else where and meet the sister eyes of haechan staring at you. he winks at you, you throw him the dirtiest look you have and move out of his sight line.
You pick a glass of champagne and lean against the wall, tipping the tall glass and drinking it in one go, and another.. starting to feel better. Chenle’s bright hair stands between the crowds, he gracefully moves around greeting everyone, you didn’t notice before but he’s quit charming.. he catches you staring at him and smile at you, rising his glass towards you, you fumble almost dropping your half empty glass.. when you mange to get a grip on yourself and rise your glass he had already return to his conversation.
“Hello, mind if I join you?” The stranger man stands next to you even before you could’ve answered him, “what’s your name?” He looks like he was operating on twice the normal human energy, fidgeting and unable to stay still for more than three seconds, his smile twitches, the look in his eyes is frantic.. his pupils are blown, he’s on something.
He speaks again before you can answer “hi Im yangyang, what’s your name?” why does his friends have wired names?
You watch him like he was a train wreck happing in slow motion, “here try this” he hands you one of the two glass he was holding in his hands, a pink cocktail with raspberry, you smile politely and take the drink, he stares at you with his frozen smile.. but something behind you catches his attention, he kinda looks like a cat, just like that he leaves as fast as he came, he’s kinds cute.
You move to the open terrace for some fresh air, the breeze flowing through your hair, you zone out as you watch the city lights.. a hand graze the small of your back brings you back, you jump in surprise. “sorry didn’t mean to scare you” chenle apologize, placing a tall glass of champion in front of you, his round cheeks flushed, he looks breathtaking in this proximity, or maybe it’s just the alcohol in your system..
“To be honest sera, Im a little offended” he confess, your eyes grow double the size “offended.. why?”,
he gives you sad puppy eyes and looks around “you don’t seems to enjoy my party”..
“oh no, I do. Your house is very beautiful and everything looks amazing” you try to convince him but he’s not buying it, you just give up and sigh, “im just tired” looking down to the busy streets..
He hums “tired or jealous?” Pointing at jeno who was too busy sucking that girl’s face, you roll your eyes and chenle laughs.
“im not” you bring the glass to your lips, drinking more, a pathetic attempt to suppress whatever have been twisting your insides.
Someone calls for him cutting your interaction short, “Alright.. well if you need anything come find me” he says before leaving you. You stay at your spot, distracting yourself with silly thoughts while the party behind you was growing wilder.
Your stomach growls, you feel sick and about to throw up.. heat rising through you, you sweat and feel lightheaded, you must have had too much to drink you are not used to it.
You stumble inside and through the crowded room, looking for the closest bathroom before it’s too late, haechan grabs your arm “sera.. are you ok?” His voice is far away although he’s standing next to you, you yanking your arm out of his hold “don’t touch me..”,
The room starts spinning, you hold the wall for support, after that it all went dark.
.
.
.
When you came back and opened your eyes, you were laid in a bed, the strong cologne filling your noise, upsetting your empty stomach. For a minute you don’t remember where you are or what had happened, the unfamiliar bedroom doesn’t ring any bills, your head is pounding, threatening to explode you move too much, you try to get up but a sharp pain shots through you, your hips feels like they were dislocated, your thighs bruised and had blood on them, your pulled up dress and torn underwear, it all indicates to one thing.
You mange to hold yourself through the initial shock, not breaking down. With a plan to find jaemin you fix your dress to cover your exposed breast, you force yourself up, picking up your discarded heal off of the floor. You limb your way out of the room, the party has quite down, it has turned to something else..
everyone looked like a living zombie, you look for jaemin, you open every door on your way, you open a door to a bedroom, and you see group of men gathered over a passed out girl, watching them felt like an outside body experience, like you were rewatching yourself. They were unfazed by your presences as they continue their assult..
you close the door to the hellish scene, you keep looking for him but he’s nowhere to be found.
You reach the main area, being met by jeno and haechan snorting whit powder of the coffee table, surrounded by loopy girls.. jeno tries to grab you, to pull you down with them but you escape his claw like hand.
You can’t take this anymore, you were starting to crumble. you did’t feel safe anymore. you head to the door and walk out, you seek the comfort of a familiar surroundings, their apartment, a hot shower, clean clothes, your bed.. but you don’t have a key and you don’t know the passcode, you try random combinations but nothing works, the door stays closed, duff to your cries.
You break down, tears streaming your face, you give up on the door and slid to the ground, leaning against the wall you sit alone in the hallway waiting for jaemin’s return.
#nct dream#nct yandere#nct smut#nct mafia#nct imagines#nct reactions#nct scenarios#nct blurbs#nct jeno#nct jaemin#nct angst#nct agnst
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Tell Me
Silence
Noun
Complete absence of sound.
Except, that wasn’t true for this situation.
The two rivals did sit in silence, but that only applied for them. As for the rest of the world? No, no it didn’t. The bonfire crackled before them, and nature around them made noise too, the crickets mainly. The small sounds of shifting, and other things, before suddenly it was broken by a loud snore instantly getting the duo’s attention as they snapped their heads to look over to the ex-security guard DJ with an arm around Kate, snoring loudly. Daffy let out a small breath of relief before he heard the fire crackle more and a roasted carrot was brought up in front of his bill a second time that night.
“You sure you don’t want one?”
“No, like I said the first time, Bugsth.”
He said, before falling back into silence.
There was almost a tension in the air, both able to sense it, mainly Daffy who clasped his hands together resting his arms on his knees, hunched towards the fire. His hands shaking a bit, the raven feathered duck staring intently at the fire now. As he swallowed a bit, before his eyes flicked to the rabbit, teal locked with gold.
Bugs really was the perfect guy…funny, charismatic, just a bit cocky, and overall charitable. His golden eyes, like drops of honey, swirling with color and entrapping. He could get lost in them and at this rate? He already was, at least until Bugs cleared his throat awkwardly, Daffy in turn snapping out of it and backing up slightly from when his body had apparently shifted to lean towards Bugs. He looked away feeling his face heat up a bit, before shaking it off. As he turned back to the rabbit who gave him a confused look. The duck finally deciding to break the silence between the two of them
“..Bugsth?”
“..yes?”
“How..?”
He asked quietly, which wasn’t usual for the loud mouth Daffy was known as. Even surprising Bugs, who earlier that night recalled their conversation, noting specifically that..well to put it simply, Daffy had reached out to him and was extremely vulnerable, no hidden intentions, no sarcasm. Just as quiet as he was now. Though they didn’t get anywhere with it because Bugs Bunny, despite everything that he was written as, wasn’t emotional. At least not in the serious way like their rival company. Usually most conflict was solved by dropping an anvil on the other, or a pie to the face, something the audience would laugh at, that Bugs would laugh at, but he knew deep down, that wasn’t what Daffy needed from him.
After all..they were best friends.
So, hesitantly, he replied.
“Eh, what do you mean ‘How’?”
He asked, cringing at how almost dismissive and genuinely confused he sounded. He didn’t bother looking at Daffy when he did reply, after all this was brand new territory for Bugs, he wasn’t meant to be..like this.
He wasn’t meant to be vulnerable.
After a couple minutes he heard a small scoff, presumably from Daffy. The duck seemingly not happy about his response, as if Bugs was just that uncaring and unbothered.
“I mean, the conversation we just had, bucktooth.” He spat, his anger clear in his voice before he calmed down and ran hand through his hair.
Frustrated, Daffy stood up and walked off to a nearby canyon wall, pacing next to it, before leaning against it and crossing his arms, huffing. Bugs got up and followed him, after taking his roasted carrot off the stick he put it on, walking over, carrot in hand as he took a bite from it, leaning next to Daffy, facing him.
“The conversation about..?”
“You should know.”
The duck snapped at him, looking towards him again.
“Warner brothers?”
There was another silence, if only for a few minutes before Daffy grabbed that stupid carrot away from the rabbit and threw it as far as he could into the desert and before Bugs could even make a comment, the toon grabbed him by his arms and shoved him against the canyon wall angrily, as he glared at Bugs. His body was shaking as he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“N-NO! GOD- g-god no! It’s not about them!”
He yelled out, desperately.
His eyes wide now as they looked panicked, hurt, and genuinely taken aback. Causing the bunny to go dead quiet watching him, his whiskers tangled and eyes wide too.
“I-it’s about me! About you!—US.”
He cried out shaking him a bit
“Daff-“
“You don’t get it, do you?! I have been working my whole life to get to the top! I have done everything you did and better!”
The Duck said, voice breaking slightly, unbeknownst to him, the two humans sleeping nearby, waking up to see them, as they watched holding their breath.
“Everything those damn executives have ever asked of me, I’ve done! I played the role of the villain, I played the role of the dumb rival to the great Bugsth Bunny! I did E-EVERYTHING!”
He yelled louder, letting go of Bugs arms and pressing a finger to his chest.
“I know my role! But does the audience care? No! Because you’re the hero, you’re the good guy that everyone cheers for! I’m all bam! Wham! Ka-POW!”
He said smacking himself on the head, as stars flew around it.
“I’d rather work for that rat over at Disney than deal with this!”
He growled, right up in Bugs face.
Bugs backing up further against the wall, watching Daffy and although he was taller he felt a thousand times smaller.
“D-Daff..it’s..”
“Don’t say it isn’t true. Don’t lie to my face rabbit!”
Bugs felt his heart pounding crazily, his breath hitching, watching Daffy yell, it wasn’t like all those times before when they argued and then they did something funny, this was raw anger. This was..reality, it wasn’t an act and of course he knew this, he knew it the moment Daffy snapped. It just,, was a lot to take in.
Daffy upon seeing Bugs expression backed up, quietly as he looked down at his hands which were by his sides in clenched fists.
He frowned, feeling something prick at his eyes, when suddenly, a soft silky hand was put to his shoulder and his eyes flicked up towards the grey bunny.
“Daffy.. I didn’t know you..”
He took a deep breath
“I’m really, truly, sorry.”
The two looked at one another, before Daffy shrugged him off taking a few steps back.
“I’m not coming back to that studio, and I am not dealing with this, I’m gonna get that blue monkey diamond for myself…”
He looked away from Bugs
“See ya around Bugsth.”
He murmured, starting to walk off, before in one swift motion Bugs grabbed his wrist, stopping Daffy.
“Daffy.”
The duck turned to look at him and the moment he did, regret filled him because the rabbit was tearing up slightly, and of course it could’ve been an act, they were actors, but it just felt different. He watched Bugs, holding his breath, the Rabbit sniffling slightly.
“Tell me you didn’t have at least one good memory.”
He said looking to him, which in turn made the Duck look away, before Bugs got closer.
“Daffy.”
He repeated, his voice wavering as the Duck turned back again, Bugs only a few inches away. Daffy swallowed, his face heating up a bit.
The two just a few inches apart, staring. Kate and Dj looking at them, as they watched Bugs get closer
“Tell me.”
He repeated once again, his voice breaking slightly.
Daffy looking to him and sighing
“Yeah..I did have one.”
He answered softly, glancing down. Eventually moving to take Bugs’ hand in his as he rubs a thumb over his knuckles blushing more, thankful his feathers were so dark that Bugs couldn’t see. Another hand being placed over his from the grey bunny as the toon glanced up at him, as he looked to their hands again as Bugs’ hand just covered Daffy’s hand.
“…the first time we met. I swear..”
He chuckled softly smiling a tiny bit
“You were brand new and shy. Like incredibly shy and when we shook hands you were shaking from nerves, I had never seen someone so nervous and you even admitted to me..that I was..your hero…me, Daffy Duck..your hero. I was amazed, and flattered.. and it was nice for the time it lasted.”
Bugs listened, and watched Daffy’s body language, the duck having never been this genuine about something. He supposed he forgot after seeing Daffy play his role for so long, that he..wasn’t that type of guy, but because everyone thought he was, he continued playing that role. Daffy had put on a mask..and Bugs finally got to see it come off, he got to see him smile..
Daffy rarely smiled happily.
That smile..was beautiful, it lit up the world in that one moment. It even made Bugs smile a tiny bit too, even despite their situation, however, as soon as it appeared, it was gone. The duck frowning now, the two friends quiet.
Bugs felt terrible, a wave of guilt washing over him, as he considered Daffy’s words, he recalled his movements and his tone, and when he finally realized Daffy was probably going to leave, he didn’t know if he should even bother stopping him, because it was obvious that Bugs Bunny had failed Daffy Duck as a friend. He failed terribly hard and honestly? No amount of apologies could fix this.
But he wanted to so badly.
Because despite everything there was a reason Bugs kept chasing after Daffy when he did anything, there was a reason he always was willing to help him. There was a reason now why Bugs had grabbed him, and was trying to stop him.
There was a reason, He had such a soft spot for Daffy.
Bugs swallowed, as he snapped out of it and locked eyes with the toon. He stepped closer, as close as he could and pulled Daffy into a hug.
The raven feathered bird freezing up in his arms, his arms in turn raising up in surprise as his breath hitched. The duck, not moving.
“B-Bugsth?”
“..I-I’m sorry.”
He said, holding back his tears as he hugged Daffy’s thin frame tighter.
The Duck tensed up, before eventually hugging back as he closed his eyes, tearing up too. The two hugged each other tightly and stayed like that for the rest of the night, unmoving.
#bugs x daffy#bugs and daffy#daffyduck bugsbunny looneytunes#baffy#my writing#my fic#bugs bunny#daffy duck
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Growing Wings.
READ ON AO3
For @starkerfestivals | Fill: Mafia AU
“Don’t fucking touch me,” Tony snarls, grabbing Peter’s wrists to rip them off of him.
“Then don’t fucking talk,” Peter spits back.
Tony growls and shoves him back, but Peter just pushes right up against him again, getting in his space. He can feel his warm breath on his face as he snarls, “You think I wanna hear your fucking voice after you left like that? Tell me why I shouldn’t just punch your lights out right now."
And ouch, that kind of hurts. Tony shoves him off, jeering, “Well, you wouldn’t want to break my nose, sweetheart, we both know how much you love my pretty face.”
“Yeah, enough to want to spit on it, maybe.”
S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t the worst place to work. Tony’s been there for a while now, and he gets along just fine. Then, he gets sent back to a world that he thought he’d never return to.
I have now achieved a blackout, yay! Thank you to @vaguekiwi for beta'ing!
The barstools are mahogany. They blend into the red-brown wood of the bar, illuminated by the glow of lights behind the bottles. The people blend in, too—clinking glasses and flashing scars as subtle hands exchange wads of bills and tight packets of pot, mingling amidst the sharp smell of whiskey and beer between them; leather jackets that conceal switchblades and guns, hung on large shoulders and frames like bedsheets on a king-sized bed. It all paints a cohesive picture, barely anything out of place.
Except for the boy sitting at the edge of the bar. The Parker heir.
He barely looks legal. Pink cheeks, scruffy brown hair, and pretty pink lips sipping at his daiquiri. There’s a fat golden ring on his index finger. He’s dressed to fit in, but with his youthful face and frilly drink, he looks more like he’s wearing daddy’s clothes than anything.
Tony wants to ruin him.
He wants to grab him by the scruff and drag him down from the throne he’ll be stepping up to and pull him into a kiss, wants to feel the heat of his breath on his neck, wants to… buy him a drink.
“That one’s on me.” Tony pulls a chair out to sit next to the boy, and opens his mouth to order a beer when— no. “Sex on the beach,” he tells the bartender, and gets a weird look from the both of them, accompanied by a smirk lacing the boy’s lips. Otherwise, silence. He waits for his drink to be fixed before taking a sip from it, swirling the liquid in the glass loftily before saying, “Want a taste?”
“Not unless it’s from your mouth.” Parker’s voice is pretty. It reminds Tony of a mockingbird’s song, a sound of nature itself, with each word spilling from his mouth a pretty melody.
Tony lifts his eyebrows. “What, you don’t want a pretty babe to take home?”
The Parker boy pointedly takes a sip from his daiquiri.
Tony feels his lips curve into a smile. Okay. He gets it. He’s pretty sure he sees the other’s eyes crinkle a bit too at the corners. “Tony,” he finally says.
“Peter.”
As if he doesn’t know.
“Pretty name for a pretty boy. You got someone to take care of you, treat you like you’re a diamond?”
“I am a diamond.” Peter tips his head back to take the rest of his daiquiri into his mouth in one large gulp. “And I can find someone to come and make me shine whenever I want.”
“Lucky guy, finding a gem in all this dirt.” Tony keeps his attention on the ice cubes clinking in his glass. “Makes me wonder if that’s what you come here for.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Peter set his empty glass down. He swipes the tip of his index finger along the rim of the glass, then pops it between his lips to suck on it before turning to face Tony, leaning in. He lets his hands rest gingerly on Tony’s shoulder, just barely gripping as he breathes into his ear, “Why don’t we take this home, Tony?”
Tony likes the way he says his name.
He thinks he’ll like it even more when Peter’s moaning it.
He lifts his gaze to meet Peter’s. Peter doesn’t budge, only pulling back the slightest bit, nose a few inches away from Tony’s. Tony watches his eyelashes flutter with each blink. It’s like a swan taking flight, feathers fluttering in the air and daring Tony to reach up to snag one for himself—a keepsake, or a trophy.
His lips quirk up when Peter gives him a look, clearly saying, well? Tony licks the lingering taste of his drink away from his lips so he can replace it with Peter. “Think your father’ll approve?”
Tony knows he won’t. Peter knows that too.
Peter smiles. “We’ll just have to keep quiet, won’t we?” His hands slide down to fist the front of Tony’s shirt and pull him out of his seat by it.
Tony barely remembers to toss a wad of bills onto the counter before he’s guided out of the bar.
-- -- --
Tony’s in the process of sticking a piece of gum underneath the briefing table when the meeting finally ends. Fury talked for a painfully long time today. Tony’s pretty sure he even saw Rogers’ eyes close a few times, and everyone knows that if Rogers is dozing, the situation’s bad.
His left foot’s fallen asleep. He stomps it subtly a few times before getting up from his seat. The room’s clearing out now, agents talking to each other and chuckling as they shuffle through the doorway. Tony stops by the door, letting Rumlow pass through before turning to Fury, who’s now digging through a box of donuts.
“You know,” Tony says when Fury doesn’t acknowledge him, “might be good for team morale if you actually share your snacks with everyone. Oh, and you know what? We really gotta work on these outfit designs. I mean, how do you expect us to get the job done when half of us are fighting a wedgie?”
Fury’s quiet for a few moments, but it doesn’t faze Tony. Fury’s either astronomically loud or terrifyingly quiet; there’s no in between.
Finally, he speaks. “Found the meeting boring, Stark?” Fury’s eye flicks up to him as he takes a monstrous bite from the donut. It sends sprinkles raining down onto the table and floor for some poor janitor to take care of later.
“Always is, Sir,” Tony replies.
“I’ll always wonder why I let someone with the attention span of a goldfish sign up.”
“Maybe because this goldfish has brought the most innovative ideas you’ve seen in the past three decades.” Tony reaches to snag a donut from the box, but Fury slaps his hand away. It hurts.
“You know, I caught wind of something new today. Toomes.”
Tony blinks. “We don’t deal with people like him.”
He doesn’t deal with people like him. Not anymore.
Fury carries on like he hasn’t even spoken. “Word has it that the Toomes are deep in debt with the Parker family. The Parkers want to collect; you think Toomes is just gonna hand over a small fortune that easily?”
Tony feels his heart leap into his throat at the words.
Parker. Parker. Parker. He repeats the name over and over in his head, and realizes that he’s been silent for a second too long. Fury’s looking at him with a raised eyebrow as he takes a fierce bite from his donut.
“Probably not,” he manages, sounding as dumb as he feels.
Fury sucks sugar off of one of his fingers. “It’s allegedly reported that Toomes’ men are going in to get rid of their debt through unconventional means.”
“They’re not paying them off.”
Fury snorts. “Hell, no. They’re going in to get rid of the Parkers. Which includes our little asset, Rumlow. Member of the Parker family since before the boy even became kingpin, he’s been… interested in testifying against the family if it means he gets a lesser sentence to bite him in the ass later. He’s the weak link in the family, and we need him alive.” He dusts his hands off. “Barnes has already volunteered to infiltrate the Parkers at the higher levels, but we need more people to go in, hang around at their front and get them talking.”
“Best of luck to them.” Tony swallows and looks away furtively.
Fury makes a disgruntled noise in his throat. “Rogers will step in if no one else wants the gig—seems eager to, actually—but really, Stark, I’m bringing this up because I thought you might be interested.”
“Me,” Tony repeats, fighting back the urge to swallow. His mind jumps to skin on skin, fingers lacing together amongst soft silky bed sheets.
“Sure.” Fury shrugs. “You think fast on your feet, and you know how to get out of sticky situations if anything goes south. You know it’s not every day that I offer an agent a job like this—it’s your chance to prove yourself, Stark.”
Tony sucks the inside of his cheek.
“We only need someone to watch Barnes’ back, sit around the area and report back if there’s an issue. It should be easy for someone like you, just mingling with the associates of the family, indulging in their favourite hobbies, bonding, you know how it goes.”
Does he?
“I…” Tony trails off. His eyes flick down to the box of donuts, lingering there for a few moments. Fury actually nudges it open for him, like it’s positive reinforcement for considering the gig. “Can I tell you my decision tomorrow?”
Fury grunts.
Tony takes that as a ‘yes’ and hurries out before Fury can say anything else.
-- -- --
It still smells the same, Tony realizes. Leather and alcohol accompanied by raucous laughter and cigarettes and money. It feels the same, too. The barstools haven’t changed, except the leather is cracked now. He runs his fingers over it. It’s like a scar, if someone ripped off a wing and let the flesh mould over with new skin.
He orders himself a drink. The bartender makes quick work of it and Tony gives her a nod of thanks before taking it from her. At least it’s not the same bartender.
It only takes him a few minutes to empty the glass. He signals for another, then turns ever so slightly to side-eye the big hunk of meat next to him. It’s not a face that he recognizes, and he’s not sure if he’s more disappointed or relieved by that fact.
Probably relieved.
“Long day?” he sighs, knowing as soon as the words come out of his mouth that it’s a stupid thing to say. It sounds green, sounds like two suburban dads at the bar of a family restaurant.
Tony gets completely ignored for his trouble. Okay, fair enough. He’s gotten rusty—which is good, he reminds himself.
He needs another drink.
He downs it in a few big swallows, which catches the attention of a couple people in the bar. He gulps past the burn and it means his voice rasps a bit when he tries again. “I had a run last night up on 116th, got jumped by like, ten guys.” He hesitates before adding, “I think they were with Toomes or something.”
He gets a few more eyes, and some heads tilting in his direction. Okay, interest. No engagement yet, but that’s okay.
Tony’s grip tightens around the glass in his hand and he plunges ahead. “Heard they’re gonna take a run at us about their debt to—” don’t say his name, he could at least pretend that wasn’t real right now “—to the boss. Think your head’ll be one of the ones they cut off?”
That gets the big guy to turn to him, a scowl on his face. “Toomes would be lucky to snip even one lock of my hair,” he growls. And, admittedly, the man has great hair.
“Hey, new guy!” Five others have swivelled in their seats, and one has his eyes fixed on Tony. “Toomes really planning something against the family?”
Tony smirks triumphantly and motions toward the bartender. “I’ll tell you all about it, friends. Drinks are on me.”
-- -- --
Peter lets out a soft yelp as Tony practically tackles him onto the bed, dragging him into a kiss. Peter’s fingers fumble as he yanks off his jacket and shirt, moaning against his lips, and Tony helps him out of them. He hears the sound of Peter’s pants dropping to the floor and his lips part in anticipation. It’s exhilarating to take apart Peter’s exterior piece by piece to reveal what’s inside, to take it for himself and ravish it.
“That hurts, you asshole,” Peter laughs as Tony nips from his jaw to his collarbone. Tony ignores him, just sucking a mark onto the pale expanse of skin right above his collarbone, and then twisting to kiss Peter.
Peter gasps into the kiss, and Tony swallows his noises up hungrily like his life depends on it. Peter gives a small whine and pushes him. Tony falls back onto the bed with a confused noise, propping himself up on his elbow. “What?” he pants. “You don’t— is something wrong?”
“No, ‘s just—” Peter licks his lips, cheeks flushed bashfully now. “You still have your shirt on.”
“Huh?” Tony looks down and feels a small smile tugging at his lips at the realization that Peter’s right. “Oh.” He swipes his hair back with a hand, flustered, and Peter bursts into laughter.
“Don’t worry, I’ll help you,” Peter tells him teasingly, already reaching forward. He makes quick work of Tony’s clothes with clumsy, eager fingers, yanking and tugging at buttons and zippers before copying Tony’s actions from earlier, dusting a few kisses onto his jaw. Tony tips his head back, eyes fluttering shut again, settling back into that warm, fuzzy place in his head where everything he can feel and see and smell and taste is Peter.
Peter’s touches are more hesitant than his, less experienced, maybe. It makes him wonder if Peter’s ever really done more than make out with someone, or if he’s ever even been in bed with another guy.
His suspicions are confirmed when Peter pulls back the slightest bit and whispers, “Is this okay?” as he lets a hand slip down, eyes flicking up to his face uncertainly.
He’s younger than Tony; they’re both young, but Tony likes the idea of teaching Peter from scratch, moulding him from untouched putty to a sinning angel, claiming what’s his. He gives a small smile through half-lidded eyes. “Yeah,” he breathes, “you’re more than okay.”
It’s like the words settle the apprehension in Peter, because he relaxes, tense shoulders dropping in what’s probably relief. Tony doesn’t like the idea of Peter worrying when he’s supposed to be enjoying, so he just grabs him and flips him over, eliciting a surprised, “Oof!” from him. He grinds down on Peter, watching delightedly as Peter lets out an obscene moan, and he clamps a hand over his mouth.
“Thought you said we gotta stay quiet,” he whispers.
Peter licks the palm of his hand to coax it off of him. “We are quiet.”
“Not you,” Tony teases.
Peter scowls. “Fuck off.”
Tony kisses the pouty look off of his face. It slides away easily once his lips are slotted against Peter’s, wet and sloppy.
And then Peter surges up in a bout of energy, and Tony falls back with a surprised noise. “I wanna,” Peter pants as he dusts kisses on Tony’s neck, nuzzling and nipping, “I wanna— I want you to make me—”
Peter steals his breath from him with each kiss until his chest is tight and Tony has to push him away the slightest bit to gasp, “Your father— last chance to—”
Neither of them give a shit about Peter’s father. It’s foreplay at best, now. The thrill of getting caught, the feeling of ecstasy as they touch what’s forbidden, snagging an apple from the garden, it only urges them on like fuel added to fire.
“Still in the family, aren’t you?” Peter plays along, hands sliding down to Tony’s hips. “Least you’re not a fed.”
Tony barks out a laugh. “Yeah, yeah,” he agrees breathlessly. “Least ‘m not a fed.”
And then he takes Peter for himself, drinking in every little noise he makes as hunger ravishes his body, basking in the dove’s pretty noises.
-- -- --
“Another one!”
They all burst into laughter as the big blond guy—Thor, apparently—smashes his glass on the floor of the bar. The bartender rolls her eyes. Broken kitchenware isn’t a scarcity with Thor around here.
Tony’s not drunk. He’s spilled a couple of drinks instead of downing them, and he’s been sneaking refills of water instead of alcohol when he can. And, he can hold his liquor well. He’s not willing to risk his job to indulge himself.
He has, however, gotten the others to drink their fair share. They’re red-faced and all they can do is roar with laughter. It reminds him of how he used to do this too, come into the bar and share a drink or two before rushing off to press his lips to fair skin as hands push through his hair. For a split second, he feels a pang of longing in his chest.
He instantly forgets about it when Thor claps him on the chest. “Our— Our heads!” he booms, then snorts. “Toomes better watch out; we could step on ‘im even like this, crush his puny skull with our boots.”
“Don’t get too ahead of yourself,” another guy snorts, elbowing Thor in the side. “Don’t you ‘member what happened last time? Parker had a nosebleed for days.”
The words make Tony jerk in his seat before he even realizes it, and then he turns back around. “Yeah, yeah, Rumlow better watch out, heard he’s a popular target,” he chuckles in an effort to regain his composure, lifting his hand to signal for another drink.
“Rumlow?” An unfamiliar voice sounds and they all turn around.
It’s another face that Tony doesn’t recognize, and it makes him realize once again just how long it’s actually been since he was last here. He takes a quiet sip from his drink, and the guy narrows his eyes at Tony.
Maybe he’s been here too long. He wants to check his watch, but he refrains.
“Rumlow ain’t here,” the guy says. He doesn’t budge, preventing Tony from sliding out of his seat. “Boss sent him to Siberia two days ago. I would know, ‘m his partner.”
One of the guys snorts. “You sure, Rollins? Last I heard, you two went through a little break-up. Did he dump you, or was it the other way around, big guy?”
There’s a loud cracking noise, and the guy falls off his seat, clutching a bloody nose. “Jesus fuck!”
They have the attention of the whole bar now, and yep, this has officially gone downhill. Like, to the depths of the earth, to the underworld where Hades resides type of bad. Tony can feel the palms of his hands getting sweaty.
Rollins gives Tony a lingering look. “What did you say your name was?”
Fuck. And that’s his cue to leave.
He tosses a wad of bills onto the counter, then says, “I gotta get home.”
“He didn’t say his name.” It’s Thor now, staring at Tony with wide, suspicious eyes now.
Tony would rather not get into a fight with Thor, or any of the guys here, really. They’re all massive.
He needs to get the fuck out of here and go straight to Fury to ask him what the hell is going on, because what does Rolllins mean Rumlow is in fucking Siberia?
“You need to see the boss,” Rollins says, and that’s the only warning Tony gets before the front of his shirt is roughly snatched in a massive paw.
“Whoa, whoa, big guy, I’m sorry—my name’s Anthony Howard; didn’t mean anything by it; just heard stuff about Toomes. Look, I really do gotta get home—”
And then Rollins yanks, making him trip forwards, and then there are hands gripping his shoulders and his wrists are being yanked behind his back like he’s getting arrested. He’s dragged off, and he prays that whoever the boss is, it’s not him.
But he knows that it is, and there’s no way he can avoid it now.
-- -- --
Tony’s there when Peter’s father is gutted like a fish.
He wraps his arms around the boy, letting him scream and cry until he’s exhausted, throat raw and scratchy from how hard he’s worked it. His cries sound more like the shrieks of a crow by the end of it, and Tony runs a hand down his spine in an effort to soothe him.
“You’re okay,” he says, voice low, and Peter shudders and shakes his head in a small, jerky movement. He doesn’t believe it yet, but Tony knows he will be.
He doesn’t stop to wonder whether they’ll be alright.
He’s there when Peter steps up.
He’s there when Peter rules like the king he was meant to be.
He’s there when Peter ruthlessly rips off the wings of the mockingbird inside himself to lock them up in a cage and leave them to rot. He’s there when Peter transforms into an eagle, a bird of prey; he’s there when Peter stops singing.
Until one night, he’s not there. He’s slipping out of the compound, silent as a field mouse running away from an eagle under the gaze of the silver moonlight.
And he’s not there when Peter wakes up.
-- -- --
At first glance, Tony thinks Peter looks the same. But then he takes a second look, and he sees that he’s grown a bit taller, his face isn’t as youthful, and he has a small, healed scar on his cheekbone, just a faint white line. Most people wouldn’t even notice it, but it catches Tony’s attention right away, and he hates himself for it, hates that he has the memory of Peter’s face etched into his brain.
Peter’s men don’t even get a chance to say anything, because the moment Peter’s eyes land on Tony’s face, his lip curls up and he barks, “Out!”
They fumble for a moment, like they’re not sure whether they should be dragging Tony out of the room too, but when Peter’s scowl grows, they scuttle out with their tails tucked between their legs. Tony sneers at their backs.
Peter strides forward and Tony clenches his jaw in preparation for what he knows is coming.
The moment the door slams shut, Peter flies into action. He grabs the front of Tony’s shirt and shoves him against the wall.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” Tony snarls, grabbing Peter’s wrists to rip them off of him.
“Then don’t fucking talk,” Peter spits back.
Tony growls and shoves him back, but Peter just pushes right up against him again, getting in his space. He can feel his warm breath on his face as he snarls, “You think I wanna hear your fucking voice after you left like that? Tell me why I shouldn’t just punch your lights out right now.”
And ouch, that kind of hurts. Tony shoves him off, jeering, “Well, you wouldn’t want to break my nose, sweetheart, we both know how much you love my pretty face.”
“Yeah, enough to want to spit on it, maybe.”
“You sure you don’t want me to be doing that to you? Wouldn’t get off on it, wouldn’t blow a load the moment I touch you? Happened way too much in the past, didn’t it? Don’t wanna relive those memories, honey? And this scar—” Tony reaches out, not even flinching when Peter tries to slap him away “—what happened here, huh? Fell off the swingset when Daddy wasn’t here to watch you?”
Peter pulls a face of disgust at his words, and Tony almost barks out a laugh, which would’ve incensed him more. It almost makes him wish he had; he knows how much Peter hates when he calls himself daddy. Almost as much as he hates being called kid.
Tony presses his thumb onto the scar when he gets no response, and Peter smacks his hand down to snap, “Just the result of the last guy who walked out on us. He came out a lot worse than me; should’ve done the same to you.”
“Oh, yeah?” Tony lifts his eyebrow tauntingly. “Then why didn’t you, huh? Did I wear you out too much, princess? Didn’t have it in you for round two? Should’ve known; pretty little thing like you wouldn’t have been able to handle it anyway—”
Tony falls back with a grunt when Peter tackles him, hands flying up to wrench him off. Except now he feels lips roughly mouthing at his neck. And then Peter snarls, “Get yourself out of these fucking clothes, I fucking hate you, always making shit harder.”
“Then ask nicely, kid,” Tony bites back. Peter’s head jerks at the pet name, nostrils flaring, and Tony triumphantly shoves him off enough to yank off his own shirt. He stumbles with how hard he pulls, and then there are hands that are tugging too, helping him out of it, and he grunts, “No fuckin’ patience at all, should’ve known you’d be begging to gag on my dick before you even—”
“Shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up.” Peter throws the shirt behind himself before throwing himself at Tony again.
His nails bite harshly into Tony’s skin, making him hiss between clenched teeth. “Put those damn claws away, Christ.” He shoves Peter back again and they stumble together against the wall, then fumble for another moment as Peter wrestles out of his own shirt.
The moment the shirt drops to the floor, discarded like a feather floating to the ground, Tony grabs Peter’s shoulders and manhandles him over to his desk. He manages to get him bent over it despite the kicking and thrashing that Peter puts up, but Tony knows Peter, knows that he isn’t fighting as hard as he can, knows that he wants Tony to wrestle with him. There’s also no denying the fact that despite the years that have passed and hardened them both, Tony’s still larger and stronger than Peter, and Peter loves it. Tony can see it in his eyes; he’s practically feral every time he rests his eyes on Tony.
“Remember the last time we did this?” Tony laughs roughly, pressing flush against him as he bends over, caging him in with his arms. Peter snarls and jerks his head back, but Tony easily avoids it. He pinches the back of his neck harshly in reprimand and Peter chokes, straining against him. Tony lets him gasp and heave for a moment before licking a hot, wet stripe from his neck to his ear. “You think you can scream as loudly as you did then for me right now, sweetheart?”
“Over my dead body,” Peter gasps.
“Not the biggest turn-on.” In a lightning-fast movement, Tony rips Peter’s pants off. The button goes flying and Peter hisses.
“That was expensive, you asshole!”
Tony opens his mouth to snap back, but then his breath catches in his throat at the sight of the red lace. Peter’s face has gone a shade that’s equally as bright and he snarls in Tony’s grasp.
“Ohhh,” Tony says, beginning to laugh, and it sounds mean, which only serves to aggravate Peter even more. “This is why you were fighting so hard, huh? Little prissy Parker, wearing fuckin’ panties like you have someone to strut for?”
“Shut. Up,” Peter grits out.
Tony grins, feeling a sadistic little ball of heat furling in his gut, and he leans in to breathe, “Make me,” before cracking a hand down on his ass. The sound is loud, ringing throughout the whole room, and Peter keens. He’s pushing back against Tony like he can’t help himself now, spine curving nicely in a way that makes Tony want to kiss every inch of his body.
Tony slots his hips against his ass, grinding down and letting out a low growl in his throat. “That’s right. That’s fuckin’ right. Can’t make me, can you? Bet’chu wanted this so badly, can never help yourself, can you? C’mon, little mockingbird, admit it—it doesn’t feel as good when you’re on your own, I get it, I—”
He does get it. He’s forgotten how good they are together, and years apart only riles him up further, gets him wanting more, more, more. He knows Peter feels the same, and now, he wants to hear him say it.
“Tell me you want this,” he growls, and Peter jerks in his grasp. “Tell me,” he repeats, cracking a hand down on his ass, “you want this.”
“Fuck off,” Peter grits, but Tony can hear it, the desperation and arousal in his voice.
“Tell me you want it, let me fucking hear it.” He brings his hand down in earnest, making Peter gasp. His ass turns a dusty pink as he jerks and whines in his grip. Tony can see his cock growing harder by the minute, encased by lace. “C’mon, lemme hear it, what’s the matter, kid? Cat got your tongue? No point in hiding, you know, we know you want it, probably been waiting for this moment for years now. Bet you put fuckin’ panties on every day hoping I’d see them.”
He punctuates his words with smacks, hand cracking loudly and ringing through the room, and Tony bites out, “C’mon, sweetheart, you being shy ‘cause you don’t want me to fuck you? Or are you still thinking about that time I nearly let you fuck me? That was a fucking mistake, wasn’t it? You got a hungry fuckin’ hole, you think your dick would’ve lasted more than a minute in my—”
“I want it!” Peter finally gasps, tears in his eyes. “I want it, I want it, I want you to fuck me, I want your hands on me, I want you to fucking take me, take me, fuck me—”
“Fuck!” Tony sees red. He fumbles with the zipper of his pants, yanking it down as fast as he can.
“Jerk,” Peter pants. “You’re a fucking asshole, bastard, selfish piece of shit, cock-sucking fed—mmph!” He chokes when Tony slaps a hand over his mouth.
“The mouth on you, kid, Christ!” Tony pulls back, then tears off his panties with his hands. Peter jerks from his position, rearing up again, but Tony puts a stop to whatever he’s about to do by shoving him back down with a grip on his neck. He roughly makes Peter turn his head, then mocks, “If you can’t learn to say nice things, then you shouldn’t say anything at all.”
Peter doesn’t fight him—as much as he expected him to, at least—when he balls the panties up in his hand and stuffs them into his mouth. Tony laughs when Peter’s face flushes, and he taunts, “Can’t even spit and snarl like you want to anymore, can you?” Peter jerks in his grasp again, and Tony bites his shoulder in reprimand. “‘s okay,” he says against his skin, grinning, “I gotcha.”
He brings his hand down on his ass again, admiring how pink it turns, and then starts roughly opening the drawers of his desk. His other hand is gripping Peter’s wrists behind his back, pinning him down. Peter’s breathing is raw and heavy in his throat even with the garment in his mouth, but there’s no denying how hard his dick is, and nothing delights Tony more than that.
“Lube,” he mutters impatiently under his breath, digging through the drawers. “Don’t tell me you don’t have fucking lube.”
Peter makes an indignant noise that Tony disregards.
When he finds it tucked under a stack of envelopes, he rips the small packet open. He presses his lubed fingers to Peter’s hole, and Peter jerks, then pushes back against him.
“Fuckin’ hungry for it, aren’t you?” Tony mutters as he works a finger in. “You know what hasn’t changed? How tight your fucking hole is.”
Peter moans behind the panties in his mouth, thighs shaking as Tony works him open. He’s not rough, but he’s not gentle either—just the way Peter likes it.
Tony’s pumping three fingers in and out of his hole by the time Peter makes a muffled noise. It sounds suspiciously like, “Hurry up,” but he can’t know for sure, and he doesn’t care to know either—Peter would kill him if he stopped to ask. So he just pinches Peter’s cheek, making him groan, before straightening.
He spits in his hand and brings it down to his cock, pumping it a few times. Peter twists to look at him, eyes blown and heavy, and Tony smirks. “Cock-drunk little thing,” he drawls, seeing the spark that ignites in Peter’s eyes at his words.
Tony squeezes Peter’s hip as he presses the head of his cock to his hole. It slips in easily, rim fluttering around him, and Tony hisses out a small, “Shit,” before pushing in slowly.
Peter gives a muffled moan, just taking it, and Tony pants, “Good boy,” before he lets his hips roll.
It’s slow at first, but then they pick up the pace once Peter starts making little noises in his throat, even pushing back to meet him halfway. It’s heaven to Tony, to feel Peter all around him like this, even more so when he gets to grip his hips and mark him up.
“You know,” Tony pants after a while, fingers digging into Peter’s skin hard enough to bruise, “it’s almost too boring with you so quiet. Maybe I should just—” He reaches out, and takes the panties from his mouth.
Peter’s moans and gasps fill up the room immediately, and Tony gives him a sloppy grin in return for the glare he gets. “There we go. But I don’t want to just carry this, so let’s…” He stuffs the panties into Peter’s hand, then guides them down to his dick. “I want you to wrap your filthy panties around your filthy cock and make a fucking mess of them.”
There’s no hiding how turned on Peter is by that; his eyelashes flutter and his lips part in a silent moan. Tony snaps his hips up, and Peter moans, jumping into action. “I fucking hate you,” he pants, even as he follows Tony’s order.
Tony laughs and gives one of his cheeks another spank. “I know,” he grins, then lets his hips pick up the pace. He digs his nails into one cheek, and Peter moans so loudly that he’s pretty sure the entire fucking room shakes. “Sing any louder than that, ‘n you’re gonna have people comin’ in to see you fuckin’ impaled on my dick, crying like a kid who just found his lost stuffie,” Tony taunts in his ear.
Peter gives a snarl, but there’s no real fight in his body; he just wants Tony and they both know it.
Tony closes his eyes, head lolling back and lips parting as he works his hips fast until he’s pounding Peter’s ass hard enough to jostle his whole body. Peter mewls, fumbling as he jerks himself off, still gripping his panties in a vice-grip, and the mere sight of him nearly tips Tony over the edge.
“So— fucking— filthy—” he gasps, bending over to press as flush as he can against Peter, skin on skin, damp with sweat. He mouths at his neck and shoulders, trying to take every inch of Peter that he can.
“P-Plea— O-Oh, god, fuck, fuck—” Peter whimpers, and the sound goes straight to Tony’s cock.
Tony hisses, “Fuck, ‘m gonna—” before he interrupts himself with a loud groan that rips from his throat, raw and heavy. He lets his hips slow as he rides through the wave of ecstasy that crashes over him, only pulling out once he gets too sensitive.
Peter’s a mewling, sweaty mess over his desk, fingers scrabbling to grip something, anything. Tony slides a hand through his damp hair to pull his head back and places a hand over Peter’s, which is still working feebly over his own cock, and he says roughly, “Lemme help, kid, can’t even do it yourself, can you? Too dumb to even think, shouldn’t have expected so much from you.”
Peter keens at the words, and Tony’s pretty sure he’s drooling on his desk. Tony lets his strokes quicken, the lacy fabric of the panties sliding wetly over the head of his dick, and Peter lets out a breathy moan. “I— I— P-Please—”
“No one’s stopping you, baby, c’mon, lemme see it.” Tony leans in and licks a wet, broad stripe between his cheeks, tasting himself mingled with the taste of Peter, and then Peter’s coming with a loud wail.
He shoots strings of white over their hands and his panties, now completely ruined and sloppy, and he gives up—gives in—entirely to let Tony jack him off through it, coaxing whines and whimpers out of him.
“F-Fuck,” he gasps after a few moments, squirming to get free, and Tony cracks a hand down, keeping him there until he’s begging incoherently, blathering for Tony to fuckstoppleasekeepgoing oh god—
Tony falls back onto the floor, completely exhausted as the weight of what they just did slaps him in the face, and Peter follows suit, collapsing on top of him.
They’re quiet for a few minutes, the sound of their breaths coming in rough gasps. Erratic exhales fill up the space between them, and Tony closes his eyes as Peter turns his head the slightest bit. He starts kissing his way up Tony’s body, from his knee to his hip to his chest and his neck.
When it slows to a stop, Tony lets his head fall to the side and is shocked to find Peter’s eyes damp and glossy. “Baby,” he whispers, feeling himself go cold. He’s only ever seen Peter cry once before. “What’s wrong?”
Peter’s eyes fall shut and he shakes his head. The silence stretches out longer and Tony’s fully convinced that he’s lost his voice when Peter finally speaks. “Stay,” he croaks. He reaches out and finds Tony’s hand, then grips it tightly. “Don’t leave me.”
Not again, are the unspoken words, and Tony knows it.
Tony looks down at him to meet his shiny brown eyes, full of longing and sadness and hatred and anger and happiness and resignation. He reaches out, placing a hand on Peter’s cheek, and Peter shudders and presses into the touch.
“Baby,” he breathes. His mind feels like it’s gone blank, save for the thought of Fury, and Toomes, and S.H.I.E.L.D. He’s an agent. He’s not part of… this, anymore. He can’t be.
A tear trails down Peter’s cheek, dripping onto the crook of his finger, and Peter turns his head to smudge it. But before he can, Tony pulls back, then grips his face with both hands to pull him into a kiss. It’s a clumsy one, full of wet gasps and pained noises, before Peter kisses back, pressing closer and closer until he’s toppled over Tony.
Tony keeps his eyes closed, even when Peter pulls back, lips ghosting over his. Peter falls onto his chest, mouthing desperately at his neck, fingers lacing through his own to squeeze tightly. Tony can feel his wet cheeks pressing against his jaw.
Peter finally pulls away, and Tony opens his eyes. “Stay,” Peter whispers again, and Tony swallows over the lump in his throat. He looks down at his hand, uncurling his fingers, and sees a familiar golden ring resting in his palm. His breath catches in his throat, and he squeezes his hand into a fist tightly, feeling the gold warm up at his touch.
And then he knows he’s made his decision—or maybe there was only ever one right answer.
“Okay,” he says, and Peter falls back onto him, a silent sob wracking his body.
Tony wraps his arms around him, holding him tightly, never wanting to let go—and he doesn’t.
The feeling of holding so Peter closely is accompanied by the decision that he’s going to grow a pair of fucking wings, if only to take both him and Peter elsewhere, away from any place that isn’t just for them.
He should have known he would end up back here. He was always going to end up back home.
-- -- --
“You passed with flying colours, Stark.” Fury doesn’t even look up as he addresses him. He’s too busy making his coffee. Tony thinks he goes out of his way to never look anyone in the eye. “Makes me wonder where you learned all these skills. It’s not every day we get an applicant like you.”
Tony doesn’t say anything. Just lifts his chin.
Fury’s eye flicks up then. It’s just the slightest bit unnerving. It feels like he can see right through him, see everything that he’s been through, see where he’s come from, see the dirt and blood that remains underneath his fingernails no matter how much he scrubs them under the faucet. He wonders if the bitter smell of leather is still stuck to him, coiling through his hair to settle down like a snake in a nest. He wonders if it’ll ever leave him, wonders how many baths and showers it’ll take for him to rub himself raw, clean.
“It’s not an easy task to commit to S.H.I.E.L.D.” Fury takes a sip of his coffee and saunters closer. Tony doesn’t move. “You leave everything behind and give it all to us. S.H.I.E.L.D. can give you what you want, but in return, we demand loyalty.” He’s standing right in front of Tony now. They stay like that for a few moments, before Fury asks softly, “Are you a loyal man, Stark?”
Tony lifts his chin. “Yes.” His voice doesn’t shake, and he holds Fury’s gaze. His fingers curl into fists, and he waits with bated breath.
Finally, Fury holds a hand out, and says, “Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D, agent.”
Tony takes it, grips it tightly, and gives a jerky nod to seal his fate. “Thank you, sir.”
He’s home, and he’s never going back.
Tag list: @sinditia @darker-soft-starker @starkeristheendgame @thegreenmetblue @momodashii @peterrparrkerr @tnpt @blazingparker @carelessannie
#starker#ironspider#sfsummerbingo21#nff#mafia au#my fics#italics are flashbacks#omg pls i can't believe it's done??#i promised this fic in june so im sure some of u on the tag list have forgotten about this#but i hope you still enjoy if you choose to read it!! <3
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red
loving him was red
summary:
george always wanted to open a joke shop with his brother. when they decide to get back at umbridge and leave school to pursue his dream he also leaves behind his girlfriend.
warnings - angst, a bit of fluff
word count - 2648
a/n - a writing challenge that @chokemepansy is doing! also got inspired by Taylor Swifts red! angst prompt 42 from her prompt list!
h.p masterlist // george weasley
George to Y/N was one of the most perfect people in her life. When she met him it changed her life for the best. He came in her life when she needed something good, when her whole life was horrible he was the only light in her life. But they also had a lot of arguments that had one or the other storming out saying hurtful things.
But they always found their way back to each other.
No matter what one or the other would apologize for the words they said and the other would smile and pull them in for a kiss. No matter what that’s how it always ended. It wasn’t the healthiest of relationships but when George was there for her it always made Y/N’s feel better and feel loved.
Even though she hated the fights she loved the time she spent with him. The times where they would just cuddle while Y/N read a book. George would just play with her hair and sometimes would just watch as her eyes glazed across the book with interest. Sometimes would bite her lip if she’s confused by something. Other times she helped him with his studies and it would help some of the times.
George and Y/N would also just sneak around the Hogwarts castle and make out in corners whilst skipping some of her classes. She normally didn’t do this but George convinced her to skip some of the classes. Luckily it usually didn’t hurt her grades since she studied a lot.
Y/N was also convinced to help Fred and George with their pranks but if the prank seemed too harsh she wouldn’t do that. Fred and Y/N were friends but not the closest friends in the world. They often only talked when George was around since nothing else tied them to each other. She didn’t hate him and he didn’t hate her.
They would also go to the Three Broomsticks for dates and would just sit and talk about each other’s day. Y/N would just get lost in George’s eyes and the way that they sparkled whenever he mentioned the pranks he and Fred did. It warmed her heart to see him so happy about something.
Towards the end of their relationship the arguments have weirdly started to die down and George and Y/N started talking through their problems.
Maybe this was because of Umbridge coming to Hogwarts that year the relationship has matured more and they started to act like adults coming into their 7th year. Though one big thing was hanging over their head.
The future.
Y/N wanted to be a curse breaker and George wanted to run a joke shop with Fred and Y/N was okay with that and would support him through everything. But the thing was that Voldemort was on the rise and his supporters were coming back. It scared a lot of people especially Y/N since she was muggle born and her family were muggles and could be hurt by this. She knew if she wanted to be a curse breaker she would have to be more brave.
She would often talk to George about this instead of keeping this stuff in. He would comfort her by letting her bury her head in his chest as he rested his chin on her head. He caressed her hair as she wrapped her arms around his waist and felt herself start to calm down a bit.
George was starting to be a comfort hotline for her.
Y/N also noticed that George has become more secretive throughout the year and she just cut it down to him and Fred planning and making pranks. She didn’t know it was a secret army that was created when Umbridge cut back on the defense against the dark arts.
It hurt her that George didn’t tell her about it or that she wasn’t even invited to become a part of this army. She wanted to be able to help. She felt useless and it sank to the bottom of her stomach that she wasn’t even trusted by her own boyfriend.
Before she could even argue with him, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to his room.
“George what the hell was that,” Y/N snapped crossing her arms across her chest. She was just talking to Luna and Neville in the common room when he dragged her to his room.
“I needed to talk to you,” George rushed out rubbing the back of his neck.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Dumbledore's army,” Y/N angrily questioned ignoring what he had said. George huffed, rolling his eyes, feeling frustrated.
“Y/N let me-,” George was about to talk but was interrupted by Y/N.
“No seriously was I not trusted by you or was it for you to get away from me?” Y/N asked, clenching her jaw as her fist curled at her side from the anger coursing through her veins.
“I think we should break up,” George blurted out making Y/N’s eyes widened. She didn’t want to break up with him over this. Yes she was angry at the moment but it didn’t mean she wanted to lose him.
“What-what,” Y/N stuttered her fist un curling from the shocking news she had just got.
“Me and Fred are going to be starting a joke shop next year,” George explained, not meeting her eyes.
“That’s it George I said I’d support you through that,” Y/N huffed and ran her fingers through her hair.
“I just don’t see you in my future,” George says quietly, his eyes traveling to his feet, not wanting to see her reaction to this. He promised himself he’d do this for her, so that she wouldn’t get hurt.
“I see,” Y/N whispers then biting her lip trying to not let the tears fall from her eyes. But her shoulders slumped when she heard the words tumble from his mouth. Sadness raked through her body and she could feel her feet start to wobble and her eyes start to glisten. “Well goodbye George,” She turned away and left the room not wanting to see his reaction to this.
Y/N decided to focus on her studies since she would be taking most of them tomorrow and needed to pass them to be a curse breaker. She needed to stop thinking about George so she could have at least a good career. She didn’t get much sleep that night.
But the next day as she finished her last N.E.W.T.S Y/N watched as Umbridge walked out of the room since she heard some noises outside of the classroom. It was a shock to everyone as George and Fred came riding in on their broomsticks with fireworks in their hands.
She didn’t get up from her seat like everyone else. She just sat down playing with her hands as the twins left the classroom creating a W in the sky.
After the school year was over Y/N was happy that she didn’t have to go back to the place that gave her so many memories with George. But when she applied to be a curse breaker she was luckily accepted but that meant she had to work for Bill Weasley.
Y/N met him a few times when she stayed over at the Weasleys house for Christmas. Bill of course recognized her and didn’t ask anything about her or George since he heard they broke up. She was thankful for that and found it easy to get along with the eldest Weasley. He was a good person to talk to.
For that whole year Y/N got used to the job only going on a few missions since she was the newbie. But things got weird when Voldemort killed Dumbledore by Snape.
She was invited to Bill and Fleurs wedding and she didn’t know if she should accept it or not since Y/N knew George would be there and it would be so awkward. But she did accept it eventually since Bill was such a good friend to her and she also heard about him getting attacked and wanted to make sure he was okay.
She didn’t take anyone as a date, she’s tried to date after school but it never worked out they always ended things before they got to serious.
Y/N managed to avoid George and even Fred that night but before it could end death eaters came to the wedding and attacked. She didn’t know what the hell was going on but she does know that Harry, Hermione, and Ron were going to go hunt for the Horcruxes.
She left Weasley's burrow with worry in the pit of her stomach. Fear filled her bones, fear for the trio and the Weasley’s. Y/N was even worried about her parents, who weren’t a part of the wizarding world which was worse since they couldn’t protect themselves. She went home that night, nervousness filling her blood as she entered her parents house.
Ever since she graduated from Hogwarts Y/N lives with her parents until she can get enough money to buy a place for herself.
Luckily her parents were okay and she went to sleep a little bit better. But still she worried for the Weasley’s and anyone who crossed Voldemort and his little posse. She just hoped everyone would be fine and wouldn’t end up dead.
The following year she kept in contact with Bill, even though she was staying with her parents to protect them.
Once Y/N heard about the battle she immediately signed up for it. She didn’t want anyone to get hurt. She wanted to help protect the people at the school so they could see the daylight the next morning. She didn’t care if she ran into George since this was a life or death situation.
The battle was a hard one. A lot of people died. Remus and Tonks being the ones closest to her. For a moment there Y/N and everyone around her even thought that Harry was dead and Voldemort as victorious. But luckily Harry wasn’t.
They won. But what did it come with. Casualties, families who wouldn’t see their children ever again. Even though they did win, Y/N felt like she failed them, she failed there families. After the war she even had nightmares about her friends and family dying and her not being able to save them.
She always woke up in a sweat.
The nights where Y/N couldn’t sleep she thought about George. What he was doing? Was he fine? Did he ever think about her? She usually shook those thoughts out of her head but ever since she broke up with him it felt like emptiness filled her life. But she masked that with a fake smile and burying herself in work and she was still doing this.
Y/N’s parents encouraged her to get her own place but reassured her that they weren’t trying to kick her out. She knew that but it felt like she was a burden on them so she just decided to move out and found a cottage in the forest. It wasn’t as scary as the forbidden forest since there were no monsters in this one.
The silence welcomed her with a warm hug. Y/N didn’t hate it; she liked being alone at the moment. She often spent her time watching shows late at night then waking up early to go to work with bags under her eyes.
One day Y/N went to go and get some ice cream in Diagon alley she saw a flash of red hair in the crowd and she immediately knew who it was.
George.
Y/N knew it could’ve been Fred but she knew George too well to know that was him. So she did what most people would’ve done. Ran behind an alley so he didn’t see her.
Before she could fully get behind the building he caught her eye and yelled out for her.
“Y/N is that you,” George asks looking between the buildings with a smile gracing his lips. She stopped in her tracks and took a deep breath before turning around with a fake smile appearing on her face.
“George it’s so nice to see you,” Y/N says while walking up to stand in front of him.
Before she could say anything else he wrapped his arms around her waists and hugged her. He buried his face in her neck while Y/N placed her arms around his neck and took in his familiar scent she loved oh so much. She missed it. She didn’t want to miss him but Y/N couldn’t help it.
“How’ve you been,” George asks kindly, finally breaking free from the hug.
“Oh I’ve been great,” Y/N lied straight through her teeth as she stared up at him. There was an awkward silence before George spoke.
“I wanted to ask a question,” George wrings his hands in front of his stomach.
“You already did,” Y/N responds with a smirk, a real one this time. “I’m kidding, go ahead,” She says after seeing the look on his face.
“I wanted to know if you want to meet up later so we could catch up,” George asks nervously as stands there with his eyes at his feet.
“Uh,” Y/N started to say and she didn’t even know what she was going to answer him with but deciding it would be good to catch up with some old friends she answered, “Yes.”
“Really,” George says shocked, he thought she’d say no since the last time they talked he dumped her.
“Yes I need to get out more anyways,” Y/N gives him a half smile before getting a pen and grabbing his hand. “This is my address, pick me up at….” She says looking up at him wanting to know when he wanted to go out.
“9 darling,” George answered and looked at the writing on his hand after she let it go. Y/N felt butterflies enter her stomach when he called her that. It’s been so long she’s been called that by someone she cares about.
When Y/N got home she immediately regretted agreeing to go on this date with George. She knew that seeing him again would bring back some old feelings that were being harbored.
She decided that when George got to the cottage Y/N would talk to him about all of her feelings.
“Hey,” Y/N greeted when George showed up at her front door with some flowers. She took them with a smile. “Come in,” She opened the door wider letting him come in.
“Nice place,” George complimented.
“Thanks,” Y/N felt nervous again when she thought about what she wanted to talk to him about. “I need to talk to you,” She rushed out as she stood in front of him.
“Knew this was gonna come,” George muttered as his smile dropped. “Before you say anything can I say something,” He asked with a pleading look on his face, Y/N nodded. “I wanted to say that breaking up with you was one of the biggest mistakes of my life and ever since I did it I’ve never been the same,” George takes a break before saying. “I'd take our relationship back in a heartbeat love.”
“I can’t do that George,” Y/N whispered as her eyes shined with tears. George’s head dropped once he heard her. “I want to, I want to take you back so much but I can’t,” Her lip quivered as a tear rolled off her cheek.
“Then why don’t you,” George whispered hope filling his eyes.
“I’m just destined to have no love.”
#asteria’s 4k celebration#george weasley x reader#george weasley smut#george weasley drabble#george weasley angst#george weasley#harry potter x reader#harry potter smut
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