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tswwwit · 1 year

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28.7% of you voted for this filth

NSFW! Here's some smut.

This won the poll, and here's what I ended up giving you in return. My condolences for this entire thing. 😔

Highlight below for kink/content warnings

Dom/sub, mild bondage, dirty talk, prostate massage, creampie/cum kink, mirror sex

Now here's the actual fic!

Dipper forces himself to turn away from his phone.

He takes a deep breath. Tapping his pen on the paper, where he has notes to make. Really important ones. In theory.

Right now, he could be making progress on any of the dozen mysteries on his plate, or unraveling another half-dozen demonic plots.

Hell, there’s even peace and quiet.

Being in Bill’s bedroom - their bedroom - means he has something like. Well. A secret lab, though a weird one. Definitely a private sanctum. Their room in the Fearamid is a profoundly private space to work in - as long as Bill's not around - because nobody else would ever dare intrude.

Time, and space, and power. Knowledge, even. Everything Dipper could ever ask for. For finding focus. For doing good.

Dipper catches himself looking at his phone again. This time, he gives it the glare it truly deserves.

It really is gaudy as hell, isn’t it. An eyesore if there ever was one. What a shame that magical function doesn’t always fit an aesthetic; golden’s what he’s stuck with, as long as he wants this thing to work.

The flipside is that nobody can deny that his phone’s very functional.

No other device has interdimensional reception. Making calls even between other realms of existence, texting between worlds. Best phone connection in this segment of the multiverse, courtesy of one accidental life bond.

Dipper can’t exactly sell the patent, though. Since it’s partially created from semi-illegal bits scavenged from Ford’s lab, partly from a concoction of spells of his own creation -

And partly from Bill’s own exoskeleton. Hence the gaudiness.

Plus the internet gets finicky, which is kind of a hiccup. And while a life-bond makes it work, the average magic-user doesn’t have a good conversationalist at the other end. Sometimes the connection gets garbled, or the thing itself corrupts other magic around it. Apparently it radiates an aura, too. One that Dipper can’t feel, but is ‘vaguely creepy’.

But even Bill admitted the design was impressive, and that’s an accomplishment in any entity’s book. Sincere compliments from Bill freakin’ Cipher are very, very hard-won. He’s seen basically everything, knows so much, and what Dipper came up with was, quote, ‘pretty cool!’.

Inevitably, Dipper finds himself staring at his stupid phone again.

It’s the way it catches the light, he swears. He’d spraypaint it if he could without compromising the spellwork. Like the major part of its physical makeup, it’s ridiculous, showy, and overly complicated.

And oddly tempting.

Dipper keeps tapping his pen, point down, on the paper. He doesn’t have anything to write down at the moment, though he feels like he should. Even though he has the time to work out a thousand other things, a million investigations, his thoughts keep drifting towards. Other stuff.

Which is so dumb. Dipper could be doing any number of things, with all the power and knowledge he has on hand. Unfortunately, his stupid brain and dick are full of ideas too, and they’re ganging up on him. It’s very distracting.

If only things were more difficult, this wouldn’t be an issue.

Because if Dipper really wants a distraction, it's a phone call away. Basically no effort at all. He could have it within minutes - theoretically - because Bill tends to like this sort of thing. He’d be game for it, any time.

Dipper plants his elbows on his desk, and rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands.

But there’s so many reasons not to do it.

Bill’s not here, for one. Dipper would be interrupting his entire ‘business’ day, and throwing a wrench into his ‘work’. He doesn’t know precisely what Bill’s up to this time, but there’s thousands of plans Bill could be enacting. Millions of beings to torment, or terrify. Bugging him for something this petty, pointless, and kind of perverted, is -

…Another reason Bill would like it.

And, technically preventing evil from happening. Distraction goes both ways; Bill can’t do two things at once.

Dipper glares down at the paper in front of him. No words there, just an exercise in abstract pointillism.

Great. Now he’s talking himself into this.

It wouldn’t even be difficult. No fire, no fighting, no clever mind games. Hell, Dipper could just literally just call, or even like, text, or something, and it’s not like he’d get a no.

Or rather, he might get a no. But it’d be with some very distracting responses that’d derail his own day, with a promise to make up for Bill’s absence. A sincere one, for once.

Nobody else could get that. Not from Bill. Sincerity. Earnestness. Even if it’s about his desire, it’s something so rare that it’s almost -

Dipper sets the pen down with a decisive click.

Screw it.

He’s young, he has…. Feelings about stuff. Ones that he can actually do something about, unlike his awkward teenage years. With someone who thinks he’s hot.

Really, he’d be betraying himself by not taking advantage. There were times he would have done way more embarrassing things, for far less attention.

Dipper nods to himself, and picks up the phone.

Worst case scenario, Bill’s too caught up in stuff to duck out, and he has to wait a few hours. Best case Bill’s going to be distracted himself, Dipper gets something he wants - and less evil happens. A win three times over.

…And maybe he shouldn’t have put his phone on silent, because he has over forty missed messages.

Dipper turns that off, and starts scrolling. Up, then down again.

There sure is. A lot.

Bill’s sent ninety percent of the texts in the last half hour, every one of them in his typical all-caps. Without any bragging, hardly any bullshit, and basically zero smug asides. Not even a bunch of cryptic comments about what a clever demon Bill is.

Dipper starts smiling.

Guess things aren’t quite what Bill was expecting when he took up this latest ‘business’ trip.

In fact, if Dipper’s any expert - and he is - Bill’s been having a shitty day.

So. It’s not selfish, really, to want him to get up to something else. It’s actually a fantastic idea.

Dipper taps the phone against his chin. End goal in mind, plan… not created yet. That requires some thought.

Does he just... Ask? It seems simple enough, but how is he supposed to phrase it. One way seems too forward. Another one might sound like some weirdo stole his phone. Can’t get too subtle, either, Bill’s missed it when he veiled it too much before….

Dipper manages to come up with two or three lines that aren’t totally cringy, before the buzz against his face interrupts his train of thought.

Bill, again. More messages in his ranting missive.

“SUMMONS, FOR CHAO’S SAKE. DOES THIS GUY EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS OR DID HE JUST PICK UP THE RIGHT INTERDIMENSIONAL PHONE BOOK”

“I’M CONSIDERING DELETING MOST OF THIS GALAXY NEXT CHANCE I GET. JUST TO GET RID OF THE CONTACT INFORMATION”

“A SUMMON IS NOT A *SERVANT* FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, THERE”S A DEAL AND EVERYTHING”

“DO THE WORDS ‘CONTRACTOR AGREEMENT’ MEAN ANYTHING OR DOES IT GO IN ONE EAR AND OUT THE OTHER TWO”

“WHY DO YOU CONTACT AN EXPERT AND NOT TAKE THE ADVICE??? IT WAS ALMOST FREE!”

Dipper rolls his eyes.

Yet another reason he should go ahead with his idea. If he doesn’t nip the complaining in the bud soon, Bill’s going to ramble on forever.

Serves him right, anyway. Bill may not be able to be summoned to Earth, but he’s sure as hell still taking calls from other realms. Dipper can’t even tell Bill he’s sorry one’s gone wrong; it’d be too obvious a lie. He’ll settle for not commenting.

Dipper taps the back of the phone for a second, thinking. Then responds.

“I take it you’re not having much fun”

“OH NO, I'M HAVING A HELL OF A TIME”

“COULDN’T FIND A BETTER PARTY AT THE INTERGALACTIC DMV”

Not a great sign. Bill knows that Dipper doesn’t want to know the details of his work - but the metaphor’s a clue. That it’s complicated, and annoying.

Dipper frowns. There’ll likely be a wait.

“So… pretty busy.”

“YEAH THIS COULD DRAG ON”

“SERIOUSLY SCREW THIS GUY THOUGH. CAN’T TAKE A HINT, CAN’T MAKE HIS OWN PLOTS? I’M UP TO HERE WITH THIS LOSER.”

“THE SECOND I CAN PULL A DECENT DOUBLE-CROSS I’M GOING FOR IT”

Huh. Usually Bill’s better at finding chances. Dipper doubts the summoning was that ironclad; loopholes are too common. More likely than not, Bill simply hasn’t found something entertaining enough yet.

“I’m surprised you haven’t found one already.”

“HEY! DOUBLECROSSING IS AN ART, KID.”

“GOTTA COME UP WITH JUST THE RIGHT THING TO REALLY RUB SOME SULFURIC ACID IN THE WOUND”

“Yeah, fine”

Yep. Just like he thought. Dipper sticks his tongue out at the screen.

Typical Bill. Can’t get his ass off the metaphorical couch unless it’s interesting. Without the promise of a prize at the end, Bill’s more likely to laze around with a martini than put effort into complicated plans. Or chores. Even if he could literally wave his hand and take care of things, if it’s not entertaining-

Actually.

There’s an idea.

Dipper hops up from his seat and heads over to his dresser. Tugging the middle drawer open, and rifling through it until he finds the prize. The slick black wood is easy to find, he hasn’t moved it in a while.

He drops down on the bed this time, and sets the box on his chest. Heart beating a bit faster, a little tense with nerves. A little excited. He sends the next message in a rush.

“Maybe I could help out?”

“WOW!! THAT'S A FIRST! PINE TREE, I’M BOTH INSULTED YOU THINK I NEED IT AND FLATTERED YOU OFFERED!”

“ALRIGHT WHAT’S GOING ON”

Dipper unlatches the box, and picks up the collar.

The black leather is soft between his fingers. He lets it dangle for a moment, tag jingling slightly as he holds it above his face. It’s not heavy with anything but implied meaning.

This particular item doesn’t see a ton of use. It’s not always the right time, because Dipper’s not always in the right mood. Once it is, though. When Dipper puts it on….

That’s. Offering power to an infinite being of pure energy, who shouldn’t even need the token to take it. And once he has it, he’ll be very, very thorough about using it. Something that sounds pretty intimidating, because it is pretty intimidating.

Right now, if Dipper’s being honest with himself - it kinda sounds great. It’s always worked out really well for him.

And there’s no way Bill won’t find this interesting.

“Thought I could uh. Give you some motivation?”

“???”

Welp. Here goes.

Without hesitating (much), Dipper wraps the collar around his neck and clasps it shut.. Feeling a light chill from the golden triangle tag on his neck, just above his collarbone. The leather not-quite tight against his throat.

He shuffles into the blankets, getting comfortable. Time to go for it.

Clearing his throat, and breathing in, then out, Dipper holds his phone up with both hands. He takes the picture.

…it doesn’t look as cool as he thought it would.

The first three don’t look great. Another he’s not - well, a glare can be sexy, in Bill’s mind, but this one just shows how annoyed he is with trying to take a stupid picture.

Dipper spends longer than he wanted just futzing with the camera and the view he’s about to provide. Bill’s a stickler for angles especially, Dipper wants to get it right.

Another buzz from his phone. Damn it, he should just send something, he’s leaving Bill hanging. For once, Dipper has like, some kind of ‘seduction’ momentum going, he can’t lose it now.

He holds his phone up again, and makes himself relax. Just a pic, doesn’t need to be fancy.

Dipper smiles, tilting his head back, neck arched with its strip of black leather fully on display. He snaps the photo and hits send before he can hesitate. Take that, second-guessing, Dipper got ahead of it this time.

Maybe it’s not the best photo, but it doesn’t have to be great. Just as long as it shows the important parts. Dipper’s not trying to do a model shoot for crying out loud. He’s just. Sending an invite.

One he hopes Bill will accept.

He lasts about three seconds before he nervously adds a text. Just in case Bill got the wrong idea. Not that Dipper’s sure what that would be, but still.

“Bedroom in half an hour?”

He’s left on read for a full, anxious two seconds.

“!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“YOU KIDDING? BE THERE IN THE”

"*TREE"

“THRE MAYBE FIVE"

"OKAY TEN MINUTES TOPS”

“DON’T GO ANYWHERE”

Dipper drops back on the bed, letting out a soft laugh.

Wow. That was easy.

Somewhere, through their bond, Dipper can feel Bill bustling around at a far distance. The trip back’s going to be a bit, he guesses.

Dipper sets his phone on the bedside table - then pauses. Heart beating a little faster, a tent in his pants - then tugs the drawer below it open. They’re going to need the lube soon anyway. Might as well snag it.

Still, the bed’s comfy and Dipper wasn’t doing anything anyway. He settles down to mess with the internet on his phone - spotty, again, it never works right in Bill’s place.

About nine minutes later, he realizes he’s obsessively checking the door now.

Totally normal, though. Bill’s usually later than he says he’ll be. Dipper knew he was in for a wait, though for once he’s oddly impatient. As soon as Bill gets here, he’s going to -

…Not be able to do much, since Dipper basically has nothing set up but the lube. Might as well get on that now before it makes another delay.

Dipper sighs, shrugging his shirt off, and kicking off his shoes. Shuffling out of his pants, and casting them aside. The underwear has to go, too. Last time Dipper tried a ‘seduction’ with his boxers still on, Bill teased him about it.

Lube, check. Collar, on. Being naked in their bedroom isn’t uncomfortable even on top of the blankets, with that eternal fireplace burning. Dipper kicks the last leg of his boxers off just as the thumping of footsteps sounds from outside the door.

Eleven minutes of waiting. Something to tease Bill about in a minute.

Then a thud. The locked knob jiggles for a moment. A muffled swear - then the brief zap of the magical locks unclicking.

Bill’s not only eager, it’s like he’s worried that he’ll miss out on the chance. Like Dipper would pull this and take off, leaving Bill to arrive back at an empty bedroom.

Which, okay. Dipper could. But he’s not going to. Bill may be a multiversal asshole, but he’s done nothing to Dipper to deserve it.

Years ago, he wouldn’t have had any reason to send racy messages to someone. Knowing any picture he did send would get an ‘ew’ or a ‘why’.

Clearly, he hadn’t met the right person yet.

It’s really hard not to smile, so Dipper doesn’t even bother trying.

The door to their bedroom slams open, and Bill Cipher emerges. Still holding the door handle, arms spread wide with a wild, brilliant grin on his face.

Dipper sits up, gives him a little wave, and a slow onceover -

Then raises an eyebrow.

Bill’s grinning. Bill’s delighted. He’s full of all his impeccable confidence, radiating ‘infuriatingly smug’ in a way that Dipper could spot through a blindfold -

But his hair is rather messy, and his suit is in ruins.

Bill stalks forward, and the door slams shut behind him as he starts undoing his tie. “Well, well, well, well, well!” His tongue runs briefly over his teeth, eye roving. “What have we here!”

Dipper shrugs. Normally he’d have a response, but. Eying Bill again doesn’t change the disaster of his clothing.

There’s certainly a lot of something on Bill’s jacket. Greenish stains, brown on his cuffs. Odd purple flecks gobbed on him like clumps of glue. Typically when Bill’s had a summon, he ends up in less dire sartorial straits. There isn’t much blood - Dipper doesn’t think any of it is Bill’s, it’s too drippy - but the stains are unmistakable.

The shirt’s also very. Holey. It’s surprising Bill hasn’t made a pun before stripping it off.

“What happened to you?” Dipper folds his legs under himself. Bill’s still his focus, but now the interest is less specific. “Bad spell? Weird summoner?” Another lookover; it makes him grimace. “A toxic waste dump?”

“There was a lotta stuff around for the summoning. No biggie.” Bill shrugs, nonchalant. He flicks an unidentifiable blob goo off his sleeve, offering Dipper an impeccable smile. “And when things go south in a deal, sometimes you gotta get a little hands on!”

Dipper folds his arms, and says nothing.

“Now look at you!” Bill practically purrs, striding in to flick the tag on the collar. His eye roves over Dipper, gleaming bright. “What a style! Coming from a fashion-comatose guy like you, of all places.” He tucks two fingers under the collar, and leans in with a leer. “I could get used to this.”

“Don’t count on it.” Dipper dodges the finger to his chin. In his peripheral vision, he catches Bill looking disappointed. “You’re not getting anything at the moment.”

Dipper knew what he was implying with his. Invitation. The terms were set a while ago, and the sign of their ‘deal’ is wrapped around his neck. He knows that Bill’s supposed to be in charge -

But, like. There are some limitations.

“Aha! So that’s the game today, huh?” Bill rubs his hands together, eye lighting up. “I can-”

“Nope.” Dipper smacks a palm on Bill’s chest. Bill blinks, but stops gloating enough to look surprised. “Hold on a minute.”

“What?”

“You’re a wreck, Bill.” Like it wasn’t obvious. Bill glances down at himself. A flicker of a grimace crosses his face, and Dipper gives him a couple quick pats on the chest. “Go clean up first.”

“Oh, is that the problem?” Bill’s grin returns, leaning in anyway. Dipper dodges the kiss, only to have it land next to his ear. Squirming doesn’t help, because Bill plants a few more, nipping briefly at his earlobe - and chuckles. “I thought you liked things messy.”

Dipper feels heat rise into his face. Now he gives his idiot husband a shove. “Not like this.”

“Aw, c’mon!” Bill puckers up to an absurd degree, hands clasped near his chest. “Give your husband a smooch. It’s the least you could do!”

“Nope.” Dipper isn’t going to smile. It’d only encourage him. His next push doesn’t move this obnoxious dick, so he gets up to add more force behind the shoving. “Go on, get moving.”

Bill starts cackling. Dipper ends up having to dig his feet in the carpet, bearing down as Bill keeps trying to kiss his face, nudging him in the vague direction of the bathroom. Adding an elbow, for emphasis. At this point, he’d settle for getting Bill to the dresser to change.

“What, not into the acid-splattered gooey look?” Bill backs up slowly as Dipper presses him along, with a teasing grab or two at his butt - though eventually, he raises his hands. “Alright, alright. Hang tight here. I’ll be back in a sec.”

Bill clicks his tongue as he finally backs into the bathroom with double finger guns and a wink. Dipper flips him off, just because. Sticking his tongue out in Bill’s direction for good measure - then at the mark on his left palm.

Off in the bathroom, he hears a distant chuckle.

Not the most elegant start to the evening. But then, he doesn’t think they’ve ever had one.

Dipper sits back down on the mattress. Bouncing in place a few times. At least the bed is comfy. Waiting here is more than tolerable. It’s not even chilly, with the eternal fire burning in that fireplace.

A little more waiting won’t matter, anyway. Bill will be out within moments, as quick as he can; Dipper can hear the rush of water, and his husband humming a cheery tune to himself.

Once Bill’s done changing. Once he’s wiped off the residue and changed his clothes. He’ll be ready, and wanting things from one young human, who’s - not technically helpless, but for the moment pretending to be. He could make all kinds of demands.

Dipper runs a finger under the collar.

Bill’s enthusiasm, in fact, carries over into all the things he does. Especially when he wants to entertain, or if he’s on a mission to conquer.

Technically this situation qualifies for both.

Dipper rubs his slightly damp palms on his thighs, and breathes out slowly.

He can already imagine Bill bursting into the room, with a show of power. Throwing the door open, alight with fire, full of all the energy and violence that a nightmare demon can display. His strong arms braced against the doorframe, and a wicked grin on his face. Ready to shamelessly ogle the present he’s arrived to collect.

The lube’s close by. Dipper fumbles for the bottle and clicks it open.

It’s cool against his palm and cooler against his dick as he takes himself in hand.

He already knows what Bill looks like when he’s naked, and it’s easy to picture the lean lines of him, all the bare skin and the shape of his muscles. Bill’s unfortunately attractive. Oddly compelling. Dipper has to hand it to himself; he did an amazing job on the human shape, even unintentionally.

The form enhances what should be absurd. Someone. Demanding. Conniving and evil and selfish, taking what he wants, and he wants Dipper, badly. Undeniably so; Dipper's felt it before, in his palm or in his mouth or inside him.

Letting a slow sigh, Dipper rests back on the bed. He slows in his strokes, running his thumb over the head of his dick.

Soon, Bill will loom over Dipper and take him by the collar, tugging him up with undeniable force and an evil grin. Maybe with his pants unzipped, his thick cock hard and -

“Already getting started, are ya?”

With instincts long-honed from many lonely nights, Dipper yanks the blanket over himself.

“Aw, someone’s shy!” Bill walks closer, wearing both a smug look and a fresh set of clothes. He throws in a wink in response to Dipper’s glare, and starts rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. “Ease up already. Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Right. Just Bill. Dipper feels his shoulders drop; he still flips Bill off again, out of sheer contrariness. Bill may have seen everything before, but he also didn’t have to make a startling entrance. Probably part of the fun for him. Because he’s a jerk.

Dipper sighs, and tosses the blanket away. “You could have told me you were ready.”

“Oh, I’m more than ready.” Bill responds easily. He waves off Dipper’s comment as he walks to the side of the bed. As he draws his arms apart, a thin line of black connects them. Pulled straight into existence, with all the power he has. And winks. “I’m prepared.”

Dipper swallows, touching the collar again. His eyes follow the long, long line of the leash, held in Bill’s solid grip.

He knew what he was in for. What he signed up for, technically. Having it be so certain makes him want to tremble - and also makes his traitorous dick very, very hard.

Bill stalks in, nudging Dipper’s chin upward with a grin - and clicks the lead onto the collar.

He nods to himself, once. Wraps the very end of the leash around his palm. Then simply stands there, hands on his hips. “Go on.”

That’s. Kind of a vague prompt. Dipper hesitates, he’s not sure what to do-

“I mean, don’t stop the show, sapling.” Bill settles back, tucking his thumbs into his pockets with a wicked smile. “Touch yourself.”

“Oh.” Dipper feels his heart start to race.

Bill’s watching intently, with a pleased smirk on his face, expecting his ‘show’ - And, while he’s ogled Dipper going at this before, it wasn’t in this context.

Typically, Dipper doesn’t let Bill push him around. Definitely never listens to his weirder requests. But this time, Dipper asked for it. He knew what he was getting into. When he called Bill over. When he made himself available, when he invited Bill to take advantage of it - and that means following Bill’s lead.

Dipper lies back on the mattress. Shutting his eyes, and taking his dick in hand again.

If he doesn’t look, he can pretend that Bill’s not watching. Not that it helps much. Jerking off feels different, it’s hard to keep it slow. Bill’s keeping quiet, but Dipper can feel his gaze on his skin like heat.

“That’s it.” Bill’s voice drops a little, lower and more intent. “Very nice.”

Dipper keeps his eyes shut. Now he presses his lips together to cover a moan. Knowing Bill’s watching him always makes him self-conscious no matter what he’s doing. Especially with this. Keeping note of how he holds himself, to how much Bill can see - whether he should arch up or angle himself differently, it’s embarrassing and exciting, like the picture he sent but with Bill right there watching. Dipper burns with awareness, and heat rises into his face.

There’s a soft shuffle of steps. Like Bill’s getting closer - no, he is, Dipper can tell by the pleased sound he makes. “Spread your legs.”

Demanding as always; why does he have to, isn’t this enough? Dipper’s already so exposed and - There isn’t much space, sitting like this - but he lies back and props his feet on the bed. Knees lifted and legs open.

There’s a soft click, and a softer groan. Dipper blinks an eye open.

Bill’s undone his belt; his fly open and his pants pushed slightly down. He’s hard and standing out against his shirt, at least as turned on as Dipper is - and taking himself in hand with slow strokes that Dipper watches with a sharp spark of arousal.

Maybe it’s more like outright staring. Who cares; Bill’s doing it right back to him, fair’s fair.

Dipper tightens his grip. Dick throbbing at the knowledge that Bill likes what he sees. Knowing he’s admiring him, that for some reason Bill loves watching this, he’s said as much before.

None of which helps Dipper keep the pace slow, he’s wanted to come for a while and now he could, if it wouldn’t ruin the upcoming events.

“Now that’s what I like to see.” Bill sets a palm below one of Dipper’s raised knees, sliding it downward. “Every bit of my eager little mortal, ready for me.” His eye trails over Dipper’s own frantic grip on his dick, stroking himself at a far more measured pace. Watching Dipper like he’s fascinating, like this embarrassing display is a delight. “All mine.”

“Shut up. It’s not -” Dipper wants to clamp his legs together, but Bill shoves them back apart. Thumbs tracing the skin of Dipper’s thighs, leaning in to plant a kiss on the skin. Dipper takes another breath. “I just wanted…” He stumbles over what he was going to say, as Bill settles in between his legs, leaning over him - and Dipper lets his head drop back with a groan. “Fuck.”

“Oh sure, in a minute. Though honestly, I could watch this all day!” Bill keeps petting his legs, and yeah, definitely looming - while looking terrifically smug about it. “But I think you called me in ‘cause you wanted a hand.”

“Yeah.” Of course Dipper wants a hand, or. More than that. He could jerk off anytime, that’s simple, he didn’t need to get Bill involved for that. It's just that what Bill does to him is so much better. ”Please.”

Bill hums for a moment, considering his prize. Tapping Dipper’s sides briefly, before leaning in to lick at his nipple, sucking it into his mouth before nipping, teeth light on the flesh.

Dipper holds back a gasp. That sent a spark of heat right down to his dick. Bill’s tongue lathes over it again, warm and wet, while he takes the other between two fingers, rolls it around, and pinches, both sharp and good.

“God.” Dipper keeps a deathgrip on his dick, slowing down. The other grips Bill’s hair. He’s not sure if he wants to push him in or pull him away - and Bill’s hum against his chest sounds like he’s covering a laugh. “You bastard.”

Bill mutters something that might be ‘you like it’, shoulders shaking with amusement. Moving on, and kissing further down Dipper’s stomach. Much less intense. Warm, and pleasant. Dipper lets out a held breath.

Only to pull another in, quick, because now Bill’s switched. Taking the already teased one in hand to roll and pinch when it’s already oversensitive from his tongue. It’s a bright shock of pleasure, of pain, and Dipper arches up with a gasp, before clasping his free hand over his mouth.

“Hey!” Bill stops his descent suddenly, pausing just above Dipper’s navel. He’s frowning, mouth inches away from Dipper’s dick. “What did I say about noises?”

Wait, why is Bill - Dipper sits up, blinking down at him.

He heard what Bill just said, but retorts are. Difficult right now. Made worse because he’s watching Bill’s lips, and the way his tongue moves, so close to where he wants them.

But wait, right, he remembers this. It was…. Dipper stares at him, unable to think. “Uh.”

“It was ‘make lots of ‘em’, if you need the reminder. Say whatever comes to mind!” Bill slides his hands down Dipper’s chest, rudely squeezing his thighs again. His smile widens, bright with enthusiasm. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Dipper swallows. What Bill’s asking for is-

No, he can’t. He has so many thoughts, all the time, and during sex they’re all dumb and horny. Downright ridiculous.

Right now, his mind’s drawing a blank. Even for the stupid stuff.

For Bill, it’s easy. He always says what he’s thinking, especially in bed. Hell, he can go on a full on monologue; has, at times, and it’s always something filthy and insane and arousing. Half of the things Bill says sound absurd in the light of day - but in the moment they’re actually pretty great.

And Bill’s seen thousands of minds and dreams, he’s encountered every situation, seen infinite fantasies. Dipper doesn’t think he has enough imagination to get weird enough to match.

Dipper turns his head away instead, keeping his mouth shut. Hearing - and feeling - Bill’s impatient sigh.

There’s also no way Bill’s going to move forward without being told something. But. Dipper can’t think of anything good.

After a moment, Bill smacks him lightly on the side. “Speak up already.” He plants another wet kiss on Dipper’s stomach, so close to his dick. Offering up a wide, teasing smile. “What do you want?”

A lot of things. Some other stuff. A myriad of ideas, none of which Bill knows about, because -

Dipper sits up. The idea snaps back into place.

Because Bill can’t get into Dipper’s head.

He’s been million brains, encountered a million fantasies - but none of them are what Dipper thinks about when he jerks off.

Dipper takes a slow calming breath. Bill’s been waiting, mouthing against his hip, hot breath ghosting over his groin. Distracting, but not enough to truly help.

In theory, this is simple. Just like his invitation, it doesn’t have to be perfect, so long as the intent is there.

Really, Bill might love whatever comes out of his mouth, because in this one, specific circumstance he’s not a mind-reader. It must drive him insane, that he can’t reach in and drag out every fantasy Dipper’s ever had, and use all of them against him.

And Dipper’s supposed to do what Bill wants.

Bill’s drags his teeth against the soft skin of his thigh, leaving red lines; his thumbs digging into the juncture of his hip fingers on his stomach - it’s a lot and not enough at the same time, it -

Dipper shuts his eyes. Takes a shuddering breath, and says, “Feels good.”

“Is that so?” Bill’s voice drops to a purr. Dipper hears the bottle of lube click again. “How good?”

Just. Good? Dipper doesn’t know what to tell him, so he ends up saying, “A lot.” Then, “Can you use your mouth?” But that’s not quite it, and now that the words have started tumbling from him Dipper finds he can’t stop - “And I really want you in me again.”

So awkward, without any of Bill’s eloquence. Dipper can’t match him, he just stumbles trying to get it out.

But the way Bill’s eye literally lights up makes Dipper feel a bit better. And the way he groans against Dipper’s skin, and sucks his cock into the hot wet of his mouth, dragging his tongue on the underside, makes it feel fantastically, absolutely better.

Dipper bucks his hips up, tangling fingers in Bill’s hair. Urging him on. Bill moves with it easily, and Dipper feels a low vibration of a held back laugh that makes him groan.

Okay. Not exactly the hottest thing in the world, but, fuck, it didn’t have to be. If it works, it works; Dipper will take the embarrasment, and say way, way dumber stuff, all the time, if it gets Bill to do this.

Bill pulls away, all too suddenly, leaving Dipper bereft and annoyed. Glaring up at Bill’s smug grin, and handsome face.

There isn’t any reason to startle when Bill’s finger pushes in, but. Well, the lube’s cold, and it was sudden. And also...

“Just one?” Dipper frowns up at Bill as his finger works slowly inside him, dipping in and out. Thin and firm, not nearly enough - and Bill’s smirking, too, the jerk. “You can do more than that.”

“I dunno. Should I?” Bill purses his lips, like he’s contemplating it. “I haven’t heard how it feels yet.”

This asshole. Dipper wants to swear, but. That’s useless, so he squeezes his legs around Bill instead.

This jerk just wants to drag things out, doesn’t he. Won’t let up until he’s satisfied. Bill might have control, sure. But he thinks Dipper’s hot, and that means there’s some leverage.

Since Dipper's not getting what he wants. Then he’ll just have to tempt him.

Bill wants to hear him? Fine, no more repressing. Even the soft panting has clearly raised his interest, and Dipper can totally do less to hold himself back.

“It feels great, okay?” Dipper glares up at him. Bill licks his lips, finger curling - and the involuntary moan Dipper lets out makes Bill’s cock visibly twitch. Dipper arches up and strokes himself again, while Bill’s occupied. “I can take more. I want it.”

Bill opens his mouth. Like he’s about to interrupt, or tease - Before he can say anything, Dipper reaches down and hauls Bill’s hand closer, urging it in.

He knows Bill can do worse. That he wants to be inside, so he’ll help him imagine what else he could be doing -

“Ah ah ah! Fantastic performance, sapling.” Bill catches his wrists, forcing them up and away. “Until you got too cocky.” And winks at his own awful pun.

Damn it, Dipper wants to swat him. He was almost - he tries to yank away, but Bill’s too strong and his grip too tight. Leaning over him, and drawing his arms over his head. over him now, kneeling between his legs.

Bill slides the collar to the side, wraps Dipper’s hands together with the long leather of the leash. Not tightly, but firm. He leans over Dipper, chest above his face - and damn it, Dipper’s halfway tempted to just bite some of the buttons of Bill’s shirt open.

Then he sinks back, and grins. Dipper moves to swat him, and can’t. He yanks at the leash again, strains against it, but there’s barely any give -

And when he glances up at the headboard, Bill’s looped the end onto a hook. The leather drawn tight, keeping Dipper's arms raised.

Glaring at Bill gets a temporary reprieve as Dipper glares at his restraint instead. Then back at Bill, who’s unbearably smug about his stunt. Dipper sinks back on the mattress with a huff.

“Can’t have you coming too soon, y’know.” Bill releases his arms, tracing down Dipper’s neck, fingers trailing around the collar. And throwing in a wink for good measure. “Not when we got all night to play around.”

Oh god. That doesn’t bode well. Or rather, it does, but. In a very specific way.

Dipper tugs at his restraints, arching up and finding no escape. Okay. Better brace himself. Bill’s always loved to torment; he’ll take his time with things. Touch and tease and taunt without truly being satisfying; he’ll make Dipper wait until it almost hurts; it’s going to be terrible and great, just like the demon himself.

“Now!” Bill claps his hands together, rubbing them with anticipation. “Where were we?” Not waiting for a response before slipping a finger - no, two - back inside, rougher than before..

If Dipper does whimper, he’ll deny it later. It makes Bill raise an eyebrow, smile growing a fraction; Dipper pushes into his fingers only to find Bill retreating with a grin. He’s not going to let Dipper urge him on. Definitely won’t let him come by himself, or get there before he’s allowed. Everything’s under Bill’s control, something both incredibly frustrating and. Interesting.

And Bill’s too experienced. Bill’s too clever. The way he presses inside is unfortunately great. They’ve been together long enough that Bill knows exactly where he needs to touch, and does it with aplomb -

And just enough to tease.

Dipper clicks his teeth shut against another sound. Breathing slowly, and shutting his eyes.

The stretch is good. The pressure, so much better; warm and invasive. Arousing. Bill rolls inside him, presses and strokes, his hand pushing against Dipper hard - then retreating - only to fuck into him again like Bill could make Dipper a mess just with his hand.

Which he is, the asshole. Because it is good. Really good. A firm pressure and a repeating touch, sending a throb of pleasure each time, and making precome drip from Dipper’s dick. Withdrawing, then returning with a hard push, in and out, a burst of pleasure only to deny it again. Slow, then fast. A quick slide and a long press that makes Dipper see stars in his vision, only to pull back out. It’s Bill, curling his fingers in the way that makes Dipper arch up and moan - then suddenly leaving him empty and nearly gasping.

Dipper can’t - His teeth are gritted, he doesn't want to sound so needy - but he whines, and doesn’t choke it back.

“Look at you. So responsive! You must have really missed me, huh?” Bill sounds delighted. Adding a third finger - and this time Dipper couldn’t cover the whimper he makes even if he wanted to. “It’s adorable.”

God, everything he’s doing is teasing. Deliberately not-quite-enough, on purpose. Keeping up that low, intense pressure without letting Dipper come, just driving him close to the edge and backing off like a bastard.

“It’d be easy to make you come like this.” Bill kisses down Dipper’s dick, then. Licking up the length with a wet sound that makes it jump under his tongue. He kisses the head with a smirk - “Could be fun to make you lose it.”

He could, he really could. His tongue on Dipper’s dick and his fingers inside - Dipper strains against the leash, swearing under his breath. It would be good, sure - but he wants to reach down. Make Bill do more. To stop the teasing and taunting, treat him rougher, and he ends up blurting, “Don’t.”

“Oh?” Bill curls his fingers; a firm shock of pressure, and the heel of his hand nudging his balls. Spreading wide inside him for an aching stretch.“Then why’d you call me here?”

“Because I wanted it.” Dipper says, out loud. Speaking is the only way to get Bill to move on, and it’s easier to ignore the embarrassment, when the burn of needing to come is so much more. Bill licks his lips, anticipatory - and Dipper admits, “I wanted you to fuck me.”

All he gets is Bill’s fingers withdrawing and that sucks. Dipper whines, teeth bared. Now he feels empty and urgent and Bill’s not touching him, the jerk.

“Well, why didn’t you say so!” Bill shuffles his pants down, stroking another palmful of lube over himself, a little faster than usual. “Not a problem. In fact,” He pushes Dipper’s legs further up, and winks. “It’d be my pleasure.”

Dipper slumps. He goes with Bill’s positioning, rude and insistent, letting himself be pliable this time. Though he feels empty, he knows that won’t last, and he’ll have what he wants.

Finally.

Bill rubs the head of his cock against Dipper, smugly enough to make Dipper swear - then laughing. Holding himself steady, and pushing in, just enough for Dipper to feel the slight jolt as the head enters - then withdraws again, tapping against him. A motion that doesn’t have any intent of really going for it -

Frustrated, Dipper tries hauling Bill in with his legs - for a moment, thinks he’s succeeded - but Bill’s cock slips away to rest against him, brushing against Dipper’s own. It leaves Bill cackling with amusement; Dipper wants to swat him, or maybe kiss him. Since he can’t do either, he tugs at the leash again. “Bill.”

“Gotta take my time, kid!” No remorse; the torturous bastard leans over him, and guides himself in, with a low, lingering stretch, one Dipper knows so well, heavy and hard inside.. Bill surges forward, fully seated and Dipper has to gasp, back arching - “You’re always.” He shuts his eye, a brief flicker as his hips rock in. “So tight for me.”

“Hn.” With nothing to protest, Dipper nods instead, rapid and eager. Bill’s cock hits just the right places, Dipper can’t help but move into it. Arching up, pushing his. his hips into that filling weight, feeling Bill fucking into him, deeper and so much that Dipper has to yank at his restraints - “You’re just. Too big.”

“So that’s what you were thinking about,” Bill hisses. There’s a throb inside, a surge forward that makes Dipper gasp, open his eyes. Seeing Bill’s own eye alight, glowing gold. The weight of his presence and his quickening pace makes Dipper want to grab at him, anything to get him closer. “That’s what gets you off.”

“Yeah.” Mostly what Dipper was imagining, but not quite - and shit, he should just say it. He could come like this, it’s good, it’s great, but Bill’s not quite putting his back into it the way Dipper would really like. If he’d do a little more, he could almost - “Like. I wanted it and. I didn’t have to say it, you just.” He shuts his eyes, thinking about half-remembered sessions alone - “Come over and have me, because you want me.” He takes a shaking breath, Bill’s hands are suddenly tight on his hips - “‘Cause I feel too good.”

Bill swears, loud and urgent - and the next snap of his hips makes Dipper strain against his bonds. That’s it. Strong and demanding, and rough, he missed it.

“You got that part right.” Bill breathy, his tongue flickering over his lips. He adds another startling pinch to a nipple that thrums down Dipper’s body, electric pleasure. “I’ll take everything I want from you.” A violent thrust, Bill’s breath hitching as Dipper moans - loud enough to make him want to cringe - but must Bill like it, because his voice lowers into a growl. “Have my way with you. Make you come on my cock.”

If he keeps this up. If Bill puts his back into it, Dipper would, definitely, it’s already a lot and nearly enough -

“Yes. Please.” Now that he’s started he can’t seem to shut his mouth. Thinking about Bill, shoving him down, or up against a wall, giving Dipper what he wants and then - “And you’ll come in me. So much.” Dipper blurts, and hears Bill suck in a sudden breath. “You always - I really like it.”

Bill slows; he nearly stills in place. Dipper can see his chest heaving, his eye bright - Then he captures Dipper’s face with both hands, pulling him in for a kiss.

Dipper opens up for it, groaning into it. Wanting to draw his arms down around the back of Bill’s neck. Since that’s impossible, he kisses back. Trying to tell Bill how much he needs this, with just his mouth.

Until this bastard, this asshole. This absolute monster, pulls away and out.

Dipper nearly kicks him. He definitely swears. He needs to come and Bill’s being twice the bastard than usual; he tries to get a hold of his dick, but he’s trapped, left to writhe, helpless, with Bill staring down at him.

Bill shuffles out of his pants, unbuttoning his shirt. Looming over Dipper again, with his bare chest almost distracting from that horrible wide smile. So close, but so far away, unable to be touched -

“Glad to hear it, kid,” Bill purrs, low and pleased. Jerking himself off again, quicker than before, his grip tight. “‘Cause I’ve been thinking about that all day.”

Dipper’s eyes widen - oh, he’s really going to -

And Bill slides inside again, the pressure heavy inside. Dipper groans at the return. Only one thrust, though. A brief second, Bill’s hips tight against his own - then, fuck, Bill’s coming. Unmistakable, making Dipper whine between his teeth, muscles tensing. Watching the flutter of Bill’s eyelashes, feeling his thick cock pulsing and the heat inside. And Dipper wants to match that pleasure, touch himself as well, get off, but Bill won’t let him. This is unfair.

“How’s that feel, kid?” Bill asks, squeezing Dipper’s thighs for a moment, before he grasps Dipper’s dick and jerks it, with quick, effective motions. “Having demon come inside you.”

Making words is a struggle, so Dipper simply nods again. Face burning, arms pressed together. He can feel it hot and deep inside and fuck, he does like it, he can’t hold Bill in place forever with his legs but he wants to keep as much as he can. Knowing how it means Bill wants him. How much he can make Bill feel good, and having the proof, right there.

Bill pulls out again, after a few slow thrusts, gazing down with a smug, satisfied look that Dipper wishes he was wearing. He wants Bill to come back. For him to fuck him, he’s left Dipper bereft and empty, with an aching throb between his legs. With urgency fading, and the pleasure dropping from the peak, it’s going to be a while before he gets to feel the same way. Building things back up is going to take so long.

Then Dipper’s arms are freed, and he’s hauled up to sit by the tight grip on the leash. The relief of that tension, at least, is something. Dipper rubs his wrists, blinking back at Bill. What -?

The next tug forces Dipper up to his knees, and Bill draws him in for a kiss, free hand buried in Dipper’s hair. Dipper responds as best he can. Would love to grab Bill back, in the same way - but his arms are shaking. He settles for touching Bill’s chest instead, in slow petting motions.

Bill makes a pleased sound, drawing back with a smile. “You like it better when I fuck you?” He prompts, shifting behind Dipper to grab his chin, tilting his head back. A firm thumb runs over Dipper’s bottom lip. “Or when I take your pretty little mouth?”

Which is - Dipper doesn’t know. He wishes he could think straight, but most of his thoughts are drawn to the unfulfilled throb in his groin. He likes taking Bill in his mouth, likes what Bill does to him in bed, all of it, he couldn’t choose - “I… don’t know.”

“Eh, that’s fair! I couldn’t pick a favorite either.” Bill pats Dipper’s hip, drawing him in until his back is pressed against his chest. “It’s all fun.”

Then Dipper’s wheeled around, quick enough to be startling. Behind him, Bill settles down comfortably, drawing Dipper fully into his lap.

It’s a comfortable enough position. Dipper even hears a soft ‘thump’ as Bill drops back against something soft. Likely he’s conjured another pillow pile, or something other surface to relax against. All cozy enough that Dipper would normally lean back with him, tuck Bill’s arms around him, and wriggle in an interesting way that might get him to help.

Instead, he stares ahead for a long few seconds - then scrambles at the sheets in surprise.

So much for the headboard. Bill’s taken a new tactic, thrown in a new addition. In this case, a very reflective one.

Dipper guesses the ‘show’ isn’t over.

He blinks - his reflection blinks back at him - and Dipper’s suddenly nervous. He can’t back up, it only puts him further into Bill’s grasp. “What-”

“What a sight.” Bill sighs, sounding very, very pleased with himself. He grabs Dipper’s thighs, parting and squeezing them. “One of my favorites, honestly.”

The ‘sight’ is. Something.

Dipper stares at himself in the mirror. God, he looks like a total mess. Face red, marks from Bill’s mouth, hair disheveled - ‘fucked’ would be a good description, in multiple senses - And there’s Bill, sitting behind him with a smug, pleased grin. Dipper meets his gaze in the reflection momentarily - then jerks his head away. He can’t look at this, it’s not -

“And why wouldn’t it be?” Bill continues. His breath is hot against Dipper’s neck, hands slipping around and under Dipper’s thighs - “When I get to see this.”

When Bill pulls his legs up, Dipper squirms - hard not to, he’s flexible but still, rude - and tenses at the sight. Bill’s a pervert, of course he likes staring at this, but Dipper can’t just. Look at what Bill’s done to him. Not without feeling a burn of shame and arousal curling in his stomach. Bill’s come has slightly spilled, wet on his thigh, dick still standing up, so obvious that he’s been taken and fucked, that he’s let himself be used, and behind him Bill’s practically gloating at how thoroughly he’s left his mark.

“I see you’re a fan as well!” Bill sounds all too chipper. He shifts slightly, nuzzling against Dipper’s shoulder. “You got good taste, kid.”

This jerk. Dipper’s brief attempt at glaring at him means he catches sight of himself in the mirror. With his traitorous dick leaking a bead of precome, and his face so red, he looks like he’s sunburnt.

“Y’know, I’d say how much I love fucking you, but eh. You won’t take my word for it. You’re a guy who loves having proof.” Bill’s voice lowers, as he leans further back - “Good thing I left you plenty.”

Dipper glances at their reflection again, grimacing - then does a double-take. Because Bill’s cock has risen with interest again, nearly covering Dipper’s own embarrassing sight. And well. He’s only human. He might look a little bit longer at that.

“You want another round?” Bill asks, almost nonchalantly, all-too innocent. Fuck, yes, of course Dipper does, he doesn’t know why Bill asked - “You wanna come on my cock?” Dipper nods again; he swallows. Yes, he really does, he’s aching and empty and been left hanging - And Bill laughs. “Then go ahead, sapling.” Voice lowered, deeply amused. “Put it in.”

Bill’s really going to make him - Dipper slumps a little, realizing that of course he is. Bill’s not in position to do it himself, and it’d be stupid to let him just poke around and hope it found its mark. If Dipper wants - then he’ll have to -

Dipper hesitates, then reaches down to get Bill into position. Hard and throbbing in his grip. Strokes it once, just to feel it, and hear Bill moan. Teamwork is rare, but as Bill lowers him slowly, Dipper adjusts his hips and holds him steady.

The blunt head of Bill’s cock pops in easily; Dipper draws his hands back up. Glancing, inevitably, at his reflection.. He already knew Bill was impressive, he’s handled it hundreds of times. Watching is different.

The very sight of Bill’s cock entering looks so much more impossible than it is. Like it shouldn’t feel as good as it does. Dipper’s own cock twitches and he takes a quick breath, watching as Bill slides him down his length, inch by inch.

“That’s it. So ready for me.” Bill moves his hips in slow motions, small, teasing thrusts. A slow push-pull that makes Dipper want to slap his hands away and sit down, take the rest in already. With Bill holding him, all he can do is watch. As Bill guides it in, then draws back, nearly popping out before making him take more, and Dipper can see the length of his cock streaked with white from his previous release. “Good boy.”

Dipper nearly shoves a hand into his mouth - no, he’s not supposed to cover the sound - then grips tight at the sheets instead. Shit, those words shouldn’t affect him this much, but they sound really good. Or maybe it’s the way Bill finally sets Dipper in his lap, fully seated, and lets go of his legs. One of the two leaves Dipper shaking, and pushing against that heavy length inside.

“Feel that?” Bill pushes his hips up, and Dipper whimpers. Being so full, so completely taken, he can feel it inside and it’s so much, enough to almost make him lose it- “You got all of it in, kid.”

Bill adds a particularly vicious thrust behind the words. No hesitation, no gentleness, and Dipper braces himself, getting his legs under him. Because he can take it, he wants to - and joke is on Bill; he has no idea what he makes Dipper feel. Why he asked for him. Why he thinks of him when he jerks off, and why he wants this, exactly this; Bill inside him, treating him roughly, it’s going to make him -

Dipper’s aware he’s talking, this time. Making sounds, and words, both too loud and too embarrassing- but Bill got him started on it and now he can’t stop. A meaningless ramble, total nonsense about how it’s good, how he likes it, urging Bill to fuck him, no harder, all in a stream of thought that he can’t stop, even though his face burns.

Which Bill really likes.. Even his rhythm occasionally stutters. Like he can’t help but move when Dipper says something he truly likes, and that seems like every other word, with his touch constantly roving. Straying from Dipper’s hips, just to grope at his chest or his stomach or legs.

“You want it so bad. Like you were made for me.” Bill growls, finally setting his grip on Dipper’s waist, leaning back more to jerk up into him - “Have you any time I want. My own personal slut.” Bill’s not only fucking up into him, he’s now holding Dipper tight, strong arms lifting and shoving him down, ; it takes everything to try and match his pace - “A perfect little toy.”

And Dipper would let Bill have him, like it if Bill took him, whenever. He could be trying to make notes at his desk and Bill would walk up and shove him down, taking him just because he wanted to, or was bored; make him kneel and suck his cock, heavy in his mouth - or sit in his lap, feeling Bill staying hard inside, impossible and inhuman, waiting for Dipper to be ready to get fucked again, fill him up with every load of come Bill has, over and over - Bill’s touching his dick, but he barely needs to stroke twice before Dipper’s coming in and over his hand.

Behind him, Bill swears again, long and loud. Then he’s coming again, his chest heaving and his cock pulsing inside. Dipper pushes into it with a few nudges of his hips.

They sit there for a moment. Both catching their breath Dipper lets his head loll back. god he needed that.

Getting up should probably. Be one at some point. But Bill’s still petting his sides, and his legs feel like jelly.

Lesson learned: Calling Bill over for this. For, essentially, a booty call, was a fantastic idea. No need to doubt it, it’s quick and effective and great. Absolutely the right choice.

Cuddling like this is nice, but with the pleasure faded it’s. Vaguely sticky. Dipper shifts a bit, trying to get up the urge to move - but Bill takes the initiative, and Dipper lets out a little ‘mh’ as he’s lifted up and plopped on his side onto the mattress. The gesture’s oddly disappointing -

“Ugh,” Bill groans, and follows a moment later. He tucks an arm under Dipper’s head, another pats his hip. “Y’know, I used to hear all the time about how getting hitched really killed the bedroom stuff.” His fingers idly trace nonsense patterns on Dipper’s side, over his stomach. “No idea what they were on about.”

Dipper huffs out a little laugh. Figures that Bill would pick up on that cliche, over all the time he’s been around. One even Dipper’s heard of, for that matter.

All he can do is shrug. “They must be doing it wrong.” Dipper suggests. Behind him, Bill hums in agreement.

Not that Dipper really knows much about how other people go about their relationships; he’s only had the one himself. Plus, well, demon involvement, that always complicates things. Especially a marriage so strange and unnerving. Complicated, and weird, unexpected in some ways, a billion things. Something neither of the people actually in the damn thing have completely figured out.

Though Dipper can’t deny that it’s very functional.

He wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

When Bill nuzzles into his hair, Dipper takes his hand in his own. Holding it up against his chest, where Bill can feel the beating of his own heart. And because Bill is a jerk, he takes that chance to sneakily pinch a nipple again. Which leads to the predictable bickering, though it’s a little calmer than usual.

Eventually, it kind of just. Trails off. Dipper guesses they’re both too pleased to put real effort in, even for appearances. With a sigh, he rolls onto his back and stretches. Feeling a lingering ache, but mostly relaxed - and Bill’s warmth, so close, is adding to the latter. Plus, everything that Bill’s done to him. Even now, he feels a bit tingly from all the touch.

After a moment, he reaches up to the collar, lazily searching for the clasp.

“Hmmm.” Bill props himself up on one elbow, narrows his eye, and catches Dipper’s hand with his own. He draws it away from the collar, interlacing their fingers with a grin. “Not just yet.”

Oh. Surprising, but not unpleasantly so. Dipper glances down, then back up again. He gives Bill’s hand a squeeze, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Ahem.” Bill rises up, smacking a palm on his chest with pride. “You summoned me, sapling. Trust the contractor you contacted! I’m a real expert in this stuff, ya dig?” He leans over Dipper, planting a kiss on his chest, then his shoulder. “And I don’t think you’re gonna be satisfied with just one.”

Dipper swallows. Right now he’s doing just fine. Relaxed, a little achy, and satisfied. But.

Okay, Bill does have a point; he was in a particular mood earlier. One that’s not completely gone. Even the suggestion has sort of exacerbated the problem.

Though he’d be an idiot not to make it a little tough for him. Just for kicks.

“I summoned you for one thing,” Dipper retorts. He swats his husband on the top of the head, then squirms a little, like he’s about to wriggle out of his grasp. Predictably, Bill reacts by grabbing onto tighter. “You can’t change the deal now.”

“Ha! Didn’t prepare for a double-cross, didja?” Bill draws him back down, looming once more. Pressing Dipper’s shoulders into the bed and grinning, white and wild. He clicks his tongue. “Classic rookie error.”

“You monster.” Dipper presses the back of one hand to his forehead, turning his head to the side - and watches Bill’s shoulders shake with repressed laughter. “I’ll need a minute, though.” Some people have a refractory period, for crying out loud.

“Sure, no problem! The night is young, so are you, and best of all,” Bill says, cheerful enough. He smacks another kiss on Dipper’s forehead, stroking his sides in a not-at-all subtly possessive gesture. He throws in a wink. “I’ve got you right where I want you.”

Arrogant ass. Taking charge of things is par for the course, but now Bill’s acting like this was his idea.

Fine, let him have it. It’s nothing but a pretense, anyway. Dipper rolls his eyes.

They both know who really had the clever idea this time.

Though he does surge up, arms around Bill’s neck, to drag him in for a kiss. “Right back at you.”

#Not Safe For Working #Oh look it's pornblography #Sorry about all this #I don't have any fun tag things I think?#Other than man I am glad to have this done with #Some of these things were finicky as hell

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dullahandyke · 15 days

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yippee yippee yippee yippee eimear con haul!!!!

Hi. It was my birthday recently and I'm bad to shop for so instead of gifts I got money to spend at Kaizokucon. So here's a haul. Under the cut bcos I couldnt fit it nicely in one picture and I wanna ramble

ok we're gonna take it one picture at a time ^_^ the ID in the alt text explains what everything is if u just wanna see what i got without the rambling sure to come with it. links in rambling r to the artists of the fan stuff where i can find em ^_^ only one of them is a direct link to the product tho bcos some ppls shops r down and some ppl dont have all their stuff online. lemons_arent_green youre a real one

Ok the flat stuff!!! black rock shooter poster bcos i already have a figure but i liek her... badass anime girl ily.... was so so sure i saw a reigen keychain but when i went to go get one there weren't any so i got this sticker sheet instead :3 SPEAKING OF KEYCHAINS!!! yippee yippee kaguya i love you youre my special little tiempsy. yue you are a gay anime boy with a cool design. tomoyo ive always felt a kinship with you and its because im a desperate dyke. monokuma is here ig 🙄 i put him on my carabiner and hes fun to stim with. i am not immune to the sdr2 fanboying. also full disclosure ive not watched naruto (its in the spreadsheet) i just thought funko pop sasuke keychain was really really funny. my son who stares into my soul. comparatively i dont have as much to say on the badges!! luka luka fever for real girlie ily. the bandori ones were blind bags and i got himari on my first try <3<3<3<3<3<3 sorry eve i kind of dont care. 🙁 the dr girlies i kinda picked at random based on who i've been vibing w lately.

THE POKEMON DIORAMA!!!! its soooo cool, staff were setting up the trade hall so i was in there all day friday and this shop was one of the first to set up their stands and i was literally staring at it all day... so fucking awesome. the rings n the necklace r from the same shop look at them... im fucking obsessed w the catgirl necklace. literally look at her. i dont thiiink shes supposed to be a specific character but she might be. oh well. cat girl ily. aaaand the arisa stand is actually a little clip for papers n stuff!! she was also a blind box but specifically for popipa so i was gonna b happy w whoever <3

MIIIIKUUUUUU MY PRINCESS MY EVERYTHING!!!!! she was calling to me she beckoned..... shes actually rlly big irl shes the biggest figure i have, replacing my kokoro one... shes the one where i audibly said 'it was my birthday i can buy things' bcos figures spencey... she wasnt too bad actually i just like bitching. 6 euro axel for scale

BOOKS 💥💥💥 i was reading nana a while back and i dropped it but i gotta pick it up again... rlly pretty and awesome... aaaand the summer hikaru died!!! kay if youre seeing this then know you posting abt it convinced me <3 i originally got it bcos i was on door duty in a quiet area and didnt wanna spend my time draining battery life on my phone but after i bought it i realised that that was literally a terrible idea so <3 we'll get around to them soon

FINALLLYYYYYY TSHIRTS!!! the top yellow one was my staff t-shirt, it has 'staff' on the back i was wearing it all weekend and yippee i love it.... emotional bond.... and if this is a safe space can i just say. if kaito was a woman? would. next up FAYE FUCKIN VALENTINEEEE!!! do u remember that post i made going thru all the sellers that were gonna b at the con that started like 'i hate shounen fans. name a woman'? well this is the seller i was talking about but all was forgiven in the name of FAYE ! GODDAMN ! VALENTINE ! ugh i love you girlie. and the last t-shirt was given out free to staff after the closing ceremony!! it was the tenth anniversary of kaizokucon so we got this awesomes design yay.... wore it to classes today hoping somebody would comment on it and nobody did 😌and in the middle i got CLOW CARRRDS BITCHES!!!!!! i saw them and immediately all thought left my fucking brain. i needed them. so important. the seller also recognised the axel in my fanny pack yippee!!!! a few people recognised him over the weekend actually and i was always like yes!! the him

anyway. yippee! yippee! yippee! yippee! yippee! yippee! yippee! yippee! yippee! con con con con con :)

#id just in alt text bcos my rambling p functionally describes it

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acourtofsnakes · 2 years

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Beneath The Clouds - Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary: A warm spring day seems like the perfect time to relax with Eddie and listen as he reads to you. He'd do anything for you, after all.

Warnings: None, really! Mention of food, some sadness here and there but pretty much safe for all. That being said, my blog is 18+ anyways. Oh, and utter sweetness with our boy that deserved so much better.

Word count: 1.4k - This is super short for me. I did it guys. I finally wrote something short(ish)

A/N: so, after a lot, and i mean a lot, of yearning with @ghostwiththemostbitch , I finally hopped aboard the Eddie train.

Masterlist

It was one of those lazy spring days in Hawkins, where everything felt slower, less rushed.

The sun shone in a clear sky, beaming down in such a way it felt more like summer, but with a cool breeze that smelled of flowers and fresh green things.

The trailer park was near empty, parents at work and kids off playing elsewhere since it was spring break. They were enjoying the freedom, working off the pent-up energy from school.

Which worked out perfectly, because that left peace and quiet for you and Eddie to enjoy.

He was sitting on a patch of grass, his upper body leaning against the seat of one of the weather-worn benches, legs spread out before him to accommodate a space for you own body.

You were on your back, between his denim-clad thighs with your head resting against his lower belly.

It was complete bliss.

Nothing to think about.

No monsters to chase. No school to worry about.

It was the sun, the breeze and the feel of Eddie’s ringed fingers gently carding through your hair as he read to you from pages of Lord of The Rings.

Eddie was an excellent reader. Built for it really, so no wonder he was Dungeon Master. His flair for the dramatic made him a master storyteller, whether it was someone else’s work, or his own.

There was a Hellfire Club meet later this evening, actually, but right now you had Eddie all to yourself. And you were very much glad for that.

“You have been much too careless so far. Very well! I will tell you what I know and leave the reward to you. You may be glad to grant it, when you have heard me.”

His voice was like liquid as it flowed over the words, reading them with familiar ease, tone shifting and changing whenever there was a new character.

And even though you’d read it before, his dictation felt like the first time all over again, painting words in your mind of The Shires, of adventures and rings, of wizards and friendship.

You almost believed that you would be right there with them if you opened your eyes.

Eddie turned the page, the gentle rustle and brush of his fingertips on the paper, “‘Go on then!’ said Frodo. ‘What do you know?’”

He dropped his voice, turning it darker, “Too much; Too many dark things.’ Said Strider grimly.”

A faint smile graced your lips, body sunken into the grass, head carefully cradled against his belly which rose and fell softly in time with his breath.

God.

You could stay here forever. Anywhere with Eddie, be it on the grass reading or off somewhere with the others.

He was your happiness, as much as you were hiss. Keeping each other stable and present in the dark moments and beating back the fear and pain when you couldn’t do it yourself.

A gentle tug to your hair stirred you from your daydream, “Hey, you better not be falling asleep whilst I’m up here blowing your mind with my reading skills.” Eddie’s voice slipped from its rippling cadence, instead turning teasing, a tone you loved so much.

You laughed softly, the sound as warm as the sun above you and you peeped an eye open to peer upside down at the handsome face above yours.

Big brown eyes looked down at you from over the book, ever so expressive, especially with an eyebrow raised and his main of curly hair that you itched to braid. He was so pretty.

“I’m not sleeping! Like I could ever fall asleep listening to you.” You grinned at him, watching as his eyebrow raised more.

“Baby, you fell asleep the last time you were here, I didn’t even get past chapter five before you were snoring your head off. I couldn’t even hear myself think.” He sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes as he dropped his attention back to the book.

You scowled playfully at him, lifting your hand to thwap the spine of the book so it hit him in the face, “You are an asshole, Eddie Munson.”

Eddie flinched, dropping the book and he stared at you for a moment, before gasping and throwing a hand to his chest, “You wound me, my lady!!! How could you say such heartless words, when I know you don’t mean them!” He dropped his head into the bench, letting out a fake sob, “Oh, the horror!!! I shall never recover from this fatal wound you have bestowed upon me.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes, throwing a hand into the grass, “My boyfriend is more dramatic than me. How will I live with this, huh?” You sighed playfully, shaking your head against his belly.

He whined, still flopped back on the bench, “Now she claims to have trouble with me!!! Oh, the pain. The horror!!!” He pretended to pull the imaginary dagger from his chest and pass out, tongue lolling and arms flopped out to the side.

You snorted, laughing from his lap and you gazed at the few puffs of cloud above you, “You are such a dork. You’re lucky I love you, Eddie.”

Eddie lifted his head from the bench seat, looking over your face with this look like…. Like he still couldn’t believe you were his.

That you loved him, all his weirdness and extravagance and unpredictability.

You didn’t care what anyone else thought or said. You saw who he was, who he really was.

The sweetest soul who had been dealt a really shitty hand in life, who was outcast by the people who wanted to be friends with who had built a shell of cocky armour to hide what lay beneath.

Love. Joy. A way of looking at the world and seeing the magic even when it seemed dark and lonely.

You saw Eddie, and you loved every part. And that was the greatest gift you could ever have given him.

He tilted his head slightly as he gazed at you with that burning love in his dark eyes, so deep his pupil seemed to blend with the rich brown and then he curled his body over, pressing his lips to yours, upside down.

His hand strayed up and rested beneath your chin, the metal of his rings warmed by your skin and the sun. “I love you too, sweetheart.” He murmured it against your lips, a whisper into the kiss.

You melted instantly, lifting a hand to gently thread through the curls at the back of his head, the taste of him sweet and heady on your tongue as your lips gently moulded to each other.

Some of the kisses were fierce and hungry, others intended to burn through each other’s body in a slow fire, but these ones were just as beautiful.

Warm, unhurried, melting like candy floss on your tongue and chasing away the dark.

He leaned back, just enough to peck your nose and then your lips again as he hummed against them, mind already on a different path, “Can we go get ice cream?” He lifted his head again to look back down at you, puppy dog eyes and all.

Like you’d ever say no to him anyway.

You rose from his lap, turning so you sat cross legged facing him and you slid your hand through his, bringing it up to kiss his rings, “Of course we can. But I want a promise in return.”

Eddie’s eyes focused intently on you, his head dipping slightly to show his devotion, “Anything. Name it and it’s yours.” He was fully truthful on that too. He would do anything for you, no matter what.

He didn’t even bat an eyelid that time you both got high and somehow wound up tattooing your initials somewhat wobbly over his heart.

In fact, it was his favourite tattoo, and sometimes he pulled his shirt aside just to look at it, your name seared over his hearted to match where you were firmly held within.

You beamed against his knuckles, resting your chin on them for a second, “Will you read to me again when we get back?” God, you were so in love with him.

His smile softened into something you knew only you saw, his free hand coming up and he brushed a knuckle over your cheek and your neck, “Oh, baby, I’ll read to you every single day for the rest of our lives.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson drabbles #stranger things #stranger things 4 #joseph quinn

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ambrossart · 6 months

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I was wondering how you created Víctor Criss so well? ,

especially their way of being and their personality because I feel that there is more information about Patrick and Henry, data about their family and dialogues that show at a glance what they are like. In addition, those two are very striking characters that steal all the attention and make them stand out. easily due to its peculiarities.

On the other hand, there are not many things about Victor and during the movie Victor and Belch are one of the characters that are least shown, but it is true that in the novel there were very interesting descriptive fragments about him that left you a lot to reflect on how during the rock fight, so I was wondering that with the brief information about him, how you have done to decide what Victor would be like, I don't know how to explain it but Henry and Patricio are so canon and yet Victor is not, I have read several fanfics in the This character comes out and changes so drastically in each of them in every way, he is a shy and lovable boy or he is a bad boy among other things and on the other hand your character is the perfect balance so I was wondering how you have done to Being able to decide what traits characterize him as a character, what things Victor would do and what he wouldn't do, what scares him or not, what things he would say and what he wouldn't,

I feel that it is

A great character is as if you had filled in the blank spaces as if you had finished writing it completely, it is as if he were a drawing whose sketch is in black and white and you have given it color, you are great 😊

I actually love that there's so little info about Vic because it gave me a lot of flexibility while developing his character. And that’s why I’m so happy that he’s been received as well as he has. I worked very hard on my interpretation of him.

Honestly, the rock fight in the novel is what completely sold me on Victor and made me love him as a character. He didn't want to be there. He didn't have any emotional investment in that fight. But since he was stuck there, he figured he might as well do some damage. I love that, and I tried to keep that scene in mind while shaping his character.

With Paper Men, Vic's character developed organically chapter by chapter. I've said this many times before, but I wasn't intending for him to be a major character, and I was really struggling to find roles for both him and Reggie because, as you said, there's so little information about them. With Reggie, I decided to have him be Henry's closest friend (because that made the most sense to me), but I had no idea what to do with Vic. Initially, he was just supposed to be a classmate of Evelyn's, but then I became randomly obsessed with the image of Evelyn smacking him in the back of the head (like she does in Ch. 4) and I decided to run with it. I thought, okay, maybe they're not just classmates; maybe they're childhood friends, but that was too simple, so I thought, okay, maybe they were friends but they haven't spoken to each other in a while, and now they're slowly starting to rekindle their friendship. From there, I started to explore the reasons why they weren't friends anymore, and that eventually led to Jimmy. And I think once I had Jimmy figured out, I had a pretty clear idea of who I wanted Vic to be in this story.

And so the introverted, guilt-ridden, self-loathing, stoner was born! 😂

In the novel, Vic appears to be more intelligent than the other members of the gang, so I wanted him to be good at school but not necessarily the academic type. Vic is naturally very smart, but he's also unmotivated and afraid of failure, so he doesn't try very hard to challenge himself academically. If he doesn't strive for success, then there's no risk of disappointing anyone... including himself.

In the movie, Vic hardly has any lines, so I knew I wanted him to be the quiet type, but I didn't want him to be just another shy boy because that doesn't fit the Bowers Gang. That's a little too cute. Instead, I wanted to approach it more like Vic is an introvert who gets extremely exhausted talking to people, especially stupid people like he encounters every day at school. Socializing is a serious challenge for him, but he doesn’t want people to know he struggles with it. Vic would rather be seen as a moody, aloof asshole than someone who’s socially awkward or anxious in any way (because that would make him a target for bullying; he learned this at a young age). I have no idea why I made him a stoner, but it seemed to fit, and once again, I just ran with it. He self-medicates with weed and occasionally alcohol to dull himself and ease his anxiety. Makes sense, doesn't it?

I’m sorry, I never know how to answer these questions. I feel like Vic was a happy accident. I started off with a few random traits and just kept building off those chapter by chapter. That's pretty much what I do with everyone, which is why all the characters tend to get more complex as the story goes on. It's like peeling an onion.

Okay, I'm rambling. I'll stop now.

#answered asks #thanks for the ask!#bowers gang #victor criss #vic criss #it stephen king #it 2017 #it fanfiction #paper men #ambrossart

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 1 year

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Trigun Stampede Episode 1 Reaction

Ok here goes. Idk how entertaining I'll be but... you know. This is mostly because I am having a weird time of things rn. Also, I have no background knowledge of this series whatsoever asides from that it might be a western and there was a 90s series and manga also, so if you're an og fan and this is painful... I am sorry lol.

But without further ado, let's go!

Oh. We're in space. ...ok then!

Well this just went poorly. Rip cryo-people.

Noooo mom :(

Ok so I can't tell; is the ship on autopilot or is Nai piloting it, because if it's the latter - you go, little guy, you got skill.

Cannot explain how funny this is. "I would like to use my communication skills more! I would like to make a positive impact!" <- every resumé ever if you want to get a job lol. Birth place "December"... interesting. There's also a "November" and a "July". Why all names of the months? But it's also May, like, temporally - is that not a bit confusing for people? I don't know what "PE081" means as a birth date... also she is. Tiny. Smol, even.

Ah, young idealist, older cynic dynamic. Always pretty fun.

These two have now both shoved papers in each other's faces. Whipping your coworker in the face with a well-timed paper can be a form of affection... I think?

HJHFBSJHC??????

Are none of them... warm? In these outfits? In the desert?

Bro's arm just fell off. "There it goes" Does this happen a lot to you sir???

Our protagonist, everyone.

"He's evil and destructive" Have you... looked at him. Like, don't judge a book by its cover but. Have you looked at him?

^He has kicked puppy energy.

I have nothing to say. Just look at this.

Map! I love maps!

Sand ocean??? Like there's no oceans? How do they get water??? Odd that July is here but not December or November. I'm assuming these are three of the "seven cities"? What are the other four? Are they also month-themed? Also some of these names are real funny. These people naming their towns and cities like "Creepy Valley" and "Stinky Lakeside". Actually seems quite normal to me tbh. And we are in Jeneora Rock atm it seems. Is it going to update as we go? That'd be cool! :D

Hjdfhvdjh he just stayed tied up for. Some reason. Roberto's face 😂

Oh, huh. Plants are. Biological organisms and not power plants. Like I assumed. So they were made but can't be made anymore because they don't have the knowledge or the technology? Odd...

His bounty is about the same as a new plant... how convenient...

Ok I know I said 'kicked puppy energy' earlier but you don't have to actually kick him...

Boy really does not want to hurt anyone :( (Hmmm now I'm starting to think he probably has at some point...)

Damn, that's some quick thinking Roberto.

Meryl: "Idk senpai this guy seems like he sucks" hjfhgnvj

Aw, buddy. Dropping the goofiness as soon as the crowd can't see him anymore :(

Hey I just realized his jacket has "SEEDS" on the arm like the spaceship! But he didn't have the coat when he got ejected so...... I'm sure I will find out later.

You guys cannot hear the quiet giggling I'm making right now. This shot plus the music - I was right about the western genre apparently, it's just on another planet.

BRO????? Where'd you pull the rocket launcher from?????? Wtf????? Why would you do that?????

Ah. He's lost his mind.

Roberto just bodily flinging Meryl into the alley ahdfihvs

He's out of bullets??? 😭

...he's crying.

Dang Meryl, you got a great throwing arm!

Oh shit. Yeah, I had a feeling he was actually extremely competent. He's holding back on purpose.

NO FRICKIN WAY. ONE BULLET WAS ALL HE NEEDED???

Ok now the animators are just showing off.

Oh. Hm. I was wondering where Nai went and. Hm. Yeah the whole accomplice thing might explain Vash's reticence to actually fight. His brother killed Rem? Yikes. He did offer his hand out to her at the beginning though... idk did he really mean for her to die along with the others? The music is hauntingly beautiful btw!

...his name is Millions Knives?

Aaaand that's a wrap on that! I'm intrigued and I feel like this episode answered absolutely nothing but raised a whole lot of questions, which is, well, what a first episode should do. The animation is really sharp geez. I generally prefer 2D animation but there's a lot of character to the expressions and motions - I think they really pulled it off!

Until next episode!

#story watches trigun stampede #trigun stampede #hope this is at least kind of fun? sorry I haven't been great about updating #I am juggling a lot of things atm #storyrambles

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queer-charming · 2 years

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1000 Words - Part 4 - SFW

Rating: SFW

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: Language

Synopsis: Chuuya requests that you personally come to his office to receive his report on his latest mission over a glass of wine. Feelings ensue.

P.s. Part 5 (The final part) will have NSFW content, this is just a pre-emptive warning :)

~~~~~~~~~

Meeting in the kitchen for coffee after everyone else in the building had gone home became a regular occurrence, at least during report season. Just another reason you’d started looking forward to them. When you and Chuuya had started this little habit, it had been day 3 of that report season, and you two had done it again on day 4, then day 5, day 6 and finally on day 7. The meetings were full of all kinds of chatting, whether it was more telling of stories or talking about the day’s the two of you had had, of course Chuuya’s recounting of his day was always far more interesting in yours. He actually went out into the field, you sat at a desk reading about other operatives who went out into the field. Over the next 4 weeks while you waited for the next report season, you found yourself growing restless, it was too quiet in your apartment, and by too quiet you meant there weren’t enough firey redheads around to liven up your day. You found yourself thinking about Chuuya far more than you should, especially for someone determined to maintain their feelings as platonic. You were fairly certain trying to imagine what he’d look like shirtless did not count as platonic. (Didn’t stop you from doing it though)

Today was the third day of the new report season and you were antsy in your office, unable to focus on a report for longer than a few minutes before your mind started to drift to a certain redhead. You knew he’d just gotten back from a 4-day mission alongside the ADA, somehow the flimsy alliance between your two organizations had yet to crumble, and he was bound to have quite the report for you. As if on cue, there was a knock on your office door.

“Come in.” You said, making an effort to look busy at your desk, even though you’d had the same report open in front of you for about 10 minutes and had only managed to read the first two sentences. The door opened to reveal one of the mail clerks, he looked utterly exhausted and utterly over walking from office to office delivering envelopes and messages.

“Tonight’s new reports, ma’am.” He said, swiftly handing you a stack of maybe 5 or so envelopes before quickly making his exit. You felt bad for him. Sure, you stayed late too but at least you got sit down while you did. You sifted through the new stack of reports, unconsciously searching for that handwriting you knew so well, and you weren’t surprised when you found it, however, despite the fact that Chuuya had been gone on this mission for 4 days, the envelope felt strangely light, hardly like 4 days’ worth of writing. You popped the seal on the envelope, pulling out only one sheet of paper, folded neatly. There was no way this was the final report, some if it had to be missing right?

You unfolded the parchment, reading its contents.

“Mission number – 36248 – was a success! Well aside from the fact that I had to deal with that asshat Dazai again. This whole cease fire thing is really starting to grate on my nerves, can’t wait for the day when I can finally plant my fist right into that mackerel’s face without worrying about Mori getting all pissy that I bruised his favorite waste of space. Anyway, the night started pretty normally, Dazai was yapping about something, tiger boy and Akutagawa were having a shouting match every five minutes and my ever growing migraine made its grand return.”

Despite the fact that Chuuya was notoriously ill tempered and abrasive, you were surprised at his way with words. He was so concise and ordered, hardly ever missing a beat, and recounting events like he was reliving them.

“Our purpose there was to infiltrate the headquarters of a rival organization, one hell bent on dismantling both the Port Mafia and the ADA, hence why I was stuck with babies first detective agency. I swear every time I get roped into one of these missions, I feel less like a Port Mafia executive and more like a glorified baby sitter. I don’t get paid enough for this.” That was a lie, you knew he got paid plenty. “Said headquarters were located inside an abandoned mine, just south of Yokohama, isolated enough that me making a few bangs wouldn’t disturb the general peace but close enough to take less than a few hours to get there. Not gonna lie, it was pretty nice out there, quiet, isolated, without the added bandaged freak I might have even considered getting a place somewhere similar. Anyway, we infiltrated the mine at approx. 10:00pm. It wasn’t hard, exterminate a few pesky guards, avoid some less than top notch security, expose some snob nosed assholes to the force of gravity and bingo! Done. Or so I thought, but of course there’s some extra fun anytime the ADA is involved. But now that I think about it, I think I’m having a hard time remembering all of the details at this moment…

I guess you’ll just have to come to my office, and I’ll tell you in person.

P.s. Bring wine.

-Chuuya.”

You stared at the letter for what must have been a solid five minutes, reading the last few lines over and over again before a smile found it’s way onto your lips. You should be annoyed, irritated that it was taking so long to get the full story on such an important mission, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad, or even close to it. In fact, you were downright giddy as you thought about what type of wine to take. You were beginning to think running into Chuuya in the kitchen days ago was the best thing to happen to you in a long time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chuuya’s office was just past the kitchen, you got lost a few times trying to navigate the winding hallways of the Port Mafia building. Eventually though, you did find yourself standing outside office 9-B, an aged vintage red wine in your hands, gripping the neck of the bottle probably a little tighter than needed due to your trembling hands. Why were you so nervous? Chuuya was a friend. This is what friends do. There was nothing intimidating about this, there was no reason for you to be so nervous. Your little internal monologue did little to sooth your overactive nerves. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been alone with Chuuya before, you’d been alone with him just about every night this week, so what made this different?

You knew exactly what made this different. This wasn’t a communal kitchen, this wasn’t somewhere where at any moment anyone could walk in, this was a private space… Chuuya’s private space. It was intimate. This was new, and it was new very fast, it wasn’t exchanging letters or spending the evening in a kitchen under the illusion of being alone with Chuuya, the second you stepped through this door, you were going to be truly alone with him, and that kicked the air from your lungs and made your heart feel like it was going to hurtle out of your chest at any moment. You took a breath to steel yourself, Chuuya would notice you were nervous and there was no way in hell that you wanted that. Once the trembling in your hands had settle somewhat, you raised one, knocking on the door a simple three times, waiting only a moment before the door swung open, revealing a very exhausted looking but very pleased looking Chuuya. You stood a moment, taking him in, he was dressed differently than you’d seen him before, trading his typical formal field attire for simple but well-fitting trousers and an equally well fitting, very well fitting you might add, sweater; he looked like a man who was here because he had to be, not because he wanted to be. When you realized you were staring, you quickly looked away before handing him the bottle in your hands.

“Figured you for liking a good vintage.” You said, trying to keep your voice as even as possible in the presence of a man whose intense gaze made you feel like you needed to sit down for a little bit.

“You figured correctly.” He responded, easily taking the bottle from you, and stepping aside to let you in. You gazed around the spacious office as you stepped inside, honestly it seemed less like an office and more like a full on living space, two decently sized couches nudged against a far corner, a large flat screen television mounted to the wall across from them, numerous potted plants very clearly well maintained, on the other side what seemed to be a bar of some sort, you could identify a clearly impressive collection of different kinds of liquors, though most of them seemed to be rarely touched. Chuuya seemed to notice your gaze, his eyes following where you were looking. “I’m not much of a hard liquor man, not really built for it.” He said as he popped the cork on the wine you had brought, opening a cabinet, and procuring two obviously expensive red wine glasses. You turned your attention to the other side of the bar, where your eyes caught something peculiar.

“I’m guessing you like community coffee more than your own?” You joked, pointing toward the clearly expensive and well used coffee maker on the far end of the bar. He glanced at the piece of machinery before glancing back at you.

“The night I met you I had run out of coffee to use here.” He explained. That made sense.

“And the nights after?” You asked. He looked at you a long moment before settling on his answer.

“I still have yet to replenish my supply.” You simply hummed. In the center of the room was his desk, it was large, not nearly as big as Mori’s, but it was certainly bigger than yours, behind it was a wall of floor to ceiling windows with one of the most beautiful scenes of the cityscape you’d ever seen. You stared out at the city you’d called home for so many years, it was just before sundown, the normally clear blue sky highlighted and dyed in a cacophony of pinks, oranges and violets as the sun began to sink beyond the horizon, giving the ocean the most picture-perfect glimmer.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Chuuya’s voice pulled your attention away from the window as he handed you a glass of wine, your fingers just barely grazing his gloved ones in the exchange, but that little touch was enough to send your heart racing, and you really hoped he couldn’t tell. Chuuya looked out at the skyline, his eyes seemingly following the sun’s descent past the edge of the water. “The office was a gift from Mori after Dazai defected, an attempt to make sure I stayed right where he wanted me, not like I would have followed that bandaged bastard anyway.” Chuuya talked big, he always did, but if there was anything you’d learned about him over the last several months, it was that Dazai’s leaving was still very much a sore subject. Your eyes traced the planes of his face, the lines of his cheekbones, the straight edge of his nose, the deep set of his eyes. The way the colors of the setting sun reflected on his skin, made his hair look so firey you thought it might actually burn you if you touched it. You wondered, for only a moment, what it would be like to card your fingers through it, before you returned to you senses, ripping your eyes away from him and back out the window.

“Mori’s lucky to have you.” You found yourself saying, once again training your eyes back to Chuuya, but this time, instead of looking out at the horizon, he was looking at you. He seemed to think about your words for a moment.

“At least someone is.” There was a certain sadness is his tone. ‘I’m lucky to have you.’ You wanted to say, but by some stroke of luck managed to hold your tongue. “Anyway,” Chuuya’s loud change in tone jolted you as he walked over to sit at his desk, motioning you to take a seat across from him. “About the rest of that report.” And like that, the seriousness of the moment was gone, replaced by the familiarity you’d come to love so much, but it also left a curiosity on your tongue. Chuuya had so many walls up, and you had only just barely started chipping away at them.

“So, what happened in the mine?” You asked, taking a sip of your wine as you crossed one leg over the other, leaning back in your chair. “Sounds like it should have been open and shut.”

“It should have been,” Chuuya sighed, bringing his own wine glass to his lips. “However, a certain ability user managed to get in the way of that.”

“What was his ability?”

“Illusion.” Chuuya’s tone betrayed the clear annoyance at the memory of this particular foe. “Specifically, manifesting the images of enemies that didn’t even fucking exist, had us shooting at smoke.”

“Can’t Dazai,” You had to keep the smile off your face at the way Chuuya’s contorted at the mention of his ex-partner. “Nullify any ability?” You finished. You knew very little about Dazai, as did most people, but you at least knew what his ability was, considering it was one of the things that made him so dangerous.

“Yes… and 80% of the time he uses it to annoy me in particular,” Chuuya explained. “However, in order for Dazai to be able to do anything but be a thorn in my side in this case, he needed to come in physical contact with the ability user in question, and we couldn’t figure out where he was.”

“Which is why the mission ended up taking 4 days.” You connected.

“We eventually found him, holed up in the base of the mine behind a rock wall, he had security cameras that gave him a view of everything going on outside and topside.” Chuuya traced the edge of his wine glass with one of his fingers, your eyes following the movement. “However, by the time we’d found him, most of my men, and the ADA, were out of ammo, and in order to get more we would have had to go back up to the surface, and who knows what this guy would do if we left him and I wasn’t about to let Akutagawa go and bring the whole mine down on our heads with his knack of turning humans into pulp.. along with any structures they may be inside, so yours truly cleared up the problem.” Your eyes snapped back up to Chuuya’s face.

“Do I want to know how?”

“Probably not.” It was here that you noticed the startling lack of light in the room, the sun had completely gone down, instead the moon hung high in the sky, framing Chuuya’s hair like a halo. It took your breath away. “(y/n)?” You jolted slightly when he said your name, you realized you’d been staring.

“Any casualties?” You asked, your voice wavering a little, but if Chuuya noticed he didn’t mention it.

“No, well except our favorite illusionist, he is very dead.” You chuckled lightly, and despite the low light, you could see the smile on Chuuya’s face. Love was too strong of a word, it didn’t fit right now, but there was definitely something close stirring in your chest as you looked at him, how the hell had you gone a year without talking to this man? Just reading his reports and calling it a day, these last few months have made you realize just how much you wished you had sent that first reply sooner. Fuck not supposed to have feelings, you failed that task miserably the first day you met him. You had feelings and there was nothing you could do about it.

Making the decision to leave Chuuya’s office had been a hard one, but eventually he’d convinced you that you should get some sleep.

“You look exhausted.” He’d said as he put away your now empty wine glasses.

“Says you.” You quipped.

“Hey!” Chuuya tried to sound mock offended. You gave him a look that said, ‘am I wrong?’ and he sighed. “Okay what if I made you a deal,” He started, approaching you again. “If you go home and go to bed, I promise I am not far behind you, and we’ll both come back tomorrow fresh as daisies.” You laughed at the suggestion, you were tempted to accept it, just to make sure he at least got some sleep.

“I still have so much work to do, Chuuya.” You explained.

“We all have work to do (y/n), if you go to bed, I promise I will personally come help you catch up tomorrow.”

“Do you even know how to do my job?” You asked.

“What, think I can’t read some reports?” It was at this moment you realized just how close the two of you had gotten, he was standing directly in front of you, so close you could feel his breath on your skin, could feel his body heat. You could tell when he noticed too, you saw when his eyes flickered from yours to your lips, and for a second you thought he was going to kiss you. If you just moved that much closer, just a fraction of effort and then…

The knock at the door is what made you two jump apart, Chuuya laying a hand flat on his desk to steady himself as he shouted an only slightly breathless “Come in”.

Looking at the door, you saw as the same mail clerk from earlier walk in. “You’re still here?” You found yourself asking.

“Always ma’am.” He replied simply, making a conscious effort to avoid your eye contact, you supposed being in Chuuya’s office did offered that kind of intimidation factor. “Finalized statements, sir.” The clerk handed Chuuya a stack of papers held together by a sturdy looking black clip before swiftly taking his leave, not once meeting yours or Chuuya’s eyes. Once he was gone you turned back to Chuuya, the absurdity of the situation finally hitting you. You worked to get your brain moving again.

“So bright and early in the morning, yeah?” You asked, a smirk plastered to your lips. A look of recognition to what you were referring to crossed Chuuya’s face before a smile formed on his own lips.

“Scouts promise.” He replied, before he finally bid you goodnight.

You stopped at your office to grab your things before you left for the evening. You leaned your hands on the top of your desk, finally letting out the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding until just then. You replayed the events of the night in your head, how Chuuya had spoken to you, how close he’d been to you, the way he looked at you.

…

Was he flirting with you?

~~~~~~~~~~~

#chuuya #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #chuuya x y/n #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs chuuya

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the-sugar-crash · 2 years

Text

Redacted Moving Head Canons

Ugh I haven't written in forever, and I really want to start getting back in the habit. Some hc inspired by the fact that I just finished helping my parents move into their new house, and I'm wishing I had someone like Damien to help me out right about now.

Shifters:

David is in charge

If he’s the one moving, he doesn’t want to ask for help, but if any of the members of his pack are the ones moving, he just shows up at their house and picks stuff up, asking where he should put it

Asher will clear out his schedule and is excited to help, but he will pop the bubble wrap, so don’t leave him in charge of packing anything that needs wrapped up.

Milo is the man with the truck. Well, technically it's his dad's truck, but he sucked it up long enough to talk to his dad to borrow it just for you, so be grateful

And despite his short size, Milo has a very impressive deadlift, so he can help move any of the bigger pieces of furniture.

He’s usually got a pretty good attitude about moving, at least until Asher asks him to grab one of the boxes on the top shelf where he can’t reach.

Asher on the other hand, while happy to help where he can, will be slightly whiny about it. He switches between whining that he’s tired, and trying to lift as many boxes as he can to show off how strong he is

At least until David yells at him to be careful so he doesn’t pull a muscle.

I feel like David will also throw in a couple lines here and there about, ‘what’s in here, rocks?’ but otherwise be pretty quiet until it’s time for him to leave. Then he’ll give you a one liner about how important family is right as he walks out the door, and then you think about that line all night. Because it’s David and of course he would.

Vamps:

This doesn’t even seem fair

They both pick up 15 boxes at a time and then leave

Kidding. Kinda

William would hire a moving company as a gift, and they would have everything packed and moved within two days, and he would pay to have you and your partner stay at a nice hotel while you wait for your stuff to be moved.

Sam would grumble about it for a bit, insisting he doesn’t mind doing it himself, but would eventually give in and send ‘the old man’ a thank you card

Vincent on the other hand would take full advantage of it, pampering you with all the amenities the hotel offered while things are being finalized at the house.

Damn Boys:

Moving is stressful, but when you have so many people you can divide the tasks among, it becomes a little bit easier.

Huxley of course is the first to come to mind for actually moving the boxes. He has a giant truck with more than enough bed space to carry what you need, not to mention he can probably pick up a refrigerator single handedly.

But when you also have a demon at your disposal whose body doesn’t have any physical limitations and can open portals…

Damien has taken the lead on organizing all of the boxes, numbering each box and listing the contents of each on a spreadsheet.

He has also numbered each of the rooms in the new house, and labeled each box and piece of furniture with its corresponding destination so there wouldn’t be any confusion when it comes time to move everything

Lasko takes charge with packing. One night after everyone else goes to bed, Lasko pops in his headphones and listens to a D&D podcast while he zones out and packs half of the apartment in one night.

They rest of course aren’t happy once they realize Lasko has destroyed his sleeping schedule. Again. But he’s perfectly tetris-ed all of their belongings into boxes, so they aren’t too mad.

Moving day itself is hectic.

Despite all the planning, things of course get moved around in the confusion, or accidentally placed in the wrong room.

But there’s a moment at the end of the day, as they’re all sitting on the floor of an empty dining room, eating pizza off of napkins because they forgot to leave out paper plates, when they take it all in and enjoy their first meal as a family in their new home, excited to make more memories and make the place their own.

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ashperiences · 3 months

Text

Meant for this to just be part of talking about the first game but didn't realise how much I'd go on lol

Didn't like this one as much, on paper most things sound better and I liked a lot of those ideas but I left without much of a real impression left on me.

The stratums never really ended up feeling like a place to me, I got a little shot of excitement going into the airship but it ultimately just felt like a big bunch of yellow corridors with a knock off version of the previous final boss. The areas could be really pretty and I liked some of the level design and the bringing a specific class gimmicks that unfortunately feel more fun of an idea than actually evocative but oh well.

Therein lies a big problem I had with this, the gameplay mostly turns into spamming big damage, the enemies and levels can get really obnoxious in response and the quests routinely become pains in the ass even as they build some genuinely endearing steps and events in them that make them more than just go to A or collect 6 of B (loved the one that made me mad that finding a guy to deliver a thing to relied on an rng roll to check if he runs away over and over owning me by having the guy eventually be like why the hell are you chasing me who are you though).

I like all these ideas it has, getting to know people in town better, weird FOE gimmicks and all but a lot of the quiet imaginative space is lost, I didn't really wonder about my party, the npcs were more fleshed out and likeable but they weren't really memorable enough to make up for feeling like just some decently entertaining guys in some dlc pack levels.

So much is hampered by relation to the first game, class design is heavily built around nerfing old strategies and over empowering other ones, the story has the same structure but less interesting as an attempt at playing the hits again, we got bird people again but they're magical helpful natives now. It's all just kind of uncomplicated heroics where your attack goes up and eventually you beat up god who is mean and make friends with everyone.

Its fun enough though although similarly the gameplay made it hard to distinguish any real sense of character between my variety of big numbers damage guys. The new class concepts are fun but not tremendously well implemented and the reuse of old classes doesn't help the stale feeling.

I can't stop complaining about it but whenever I think about parts of it I think of them fondly anyway, its not charmless it's just, it's overshadowed and directionless, everything you like feels nice but overtime it kind of just eats away at itself until its a town of slightly charming people and their heroes in a world that just feels built for purpose. I can barely remember any of the actual exploring.

If etrian odyssey 1 ends with your party literally going to hell this one feels like a conscious attempt at crafting explorer heaven - nothing complicates your role, doing big damage almost always wins, everyone ends up loving you and you can live forever as a cool sword guy (suppose there's a fun little thing to think about on context of the villain speech there actually).

I think you can summarise this game with two things:

1. The pathways only open to certain classes that just give you an rpg narration of your guy doing some cool stuff that repeats exactly the same the next time you find one without any of the environment reflecting it and usually organised into some weird box room with multiple class paths like you've found some side mission level select.

2. The way the gunner just inherits a strong move from the now decimated survivalist and also functions as a superior alchemist, the way the war magus can awkwardly remove any mp consideration or how the hexer can just turn hp loss into practically instant killing everything. The game gets flattened under this stuff to the point that the struggle of it all ceases to feel real, no monster is a real threat except by just doing something annoying, every boss gets steamrolled and as if representing the shift in genre the survivalist ends up with practically no purpose.

It was fun while it lasted for sure but also super annoying and I spent most of it thinking about my previous party and looking back on it all I can imagine my party as is an endless succession of multi attack skills.

A true dlc side story 6/10 where you go oh that's a nice idea I guess oh that's a funny guy they put in here and then evaporates.

#etrian odyssey #rpg #drpg #video games

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1000-niche-interests · 2 years

Note

I imagine Lin having a bad immune system so sick!Lin and the ship Linumi:D

Hello, anon, and thank you for my ~very first~ request to this blog :) I appreciate you!! I haven't actually written anything for Lin in about a year so I can't promise this is *entirely* perfectly in character but I hope you like it! Thanks again for your request! Fic under the cut.

Since retiring from the United Forces, Bumi took every opportunity to sleep in. Juvenile, as Tenzin often told him, but Bumi had never been much of a morning person. A trait that had only exacerbated during his airbending training; then, he slept in just to annoy Tenzin or to avoid more of his boring speeches about gurus he’d almost certainly already learned at some point in his childhood.

(Okay, maybe he couldn’t recall all of them, but still.)

Lin, on the other hand, stuck to a strict schedule. She always had, ever since they were kids; once they’d finally moved in together, he wasn’t the least bit surprised that had continued.

The trend lately did concern him, though, just a little. While Lin had always been an early riser, most times than not in the past week he’d awoken in the small hours of the morning to her heading out the door.

He understood it, he did; rebuilding the police force and keeping the peace after Kuvira’s attack had demolished half the city was no easy feat.

The difference between them, though, was that Lin seemed to believe that if she wasn’t there, the city would implode. Bumi believed that pretty much everything could wait until at least nine am.

He’d considered broaching the subject, tell her to sleep in and slow down if she could, but she was always so tired after coming home from the station, or what currently passed as a temporary headquarters, he found himself biting his tongue. Which didn’t happen often, even where Lin was concerned.

But if he knew her, and he did, this could only go on so long before she inevitably crashed.

Which was why, waking this morning with the sun shining high though the windowpane, Bumi wasn’t overly surprised to find Lin still beside him. Nor could he find it in him to be surprised at the veritable heat radiating off her through the sheets she was curled up in. He sighed to the quiet room, and got out of bed as silently as he could. Lin’s health was one of the few things in life that couldn’t wait, for good reason.

No reason to wake her yet, he decided as he made his way to the kitchen. As he put the kettle on to boil for tea, he set about digging up whatever medicine was stashed in the back cabinets. This being Lin’s place through and through, everything was in a limbo of organized disorganization. She organized what she thought was important-- papers, clothes, old photos-- but the afterthoughts… things like medicine, in this case… were more often than not stuck wherever she found space for them. The tea, at least, was tucked away in its own cabinet, but other than a half-full, potentially expired bottle of cough syrup, Bumi hadn’t found much.

“Dammit Lin, how do you live like this?” He whispered to no one, entirely ignoring that his room on Air Temple Island was much less organized (and just how he liked it). It wasn’t even his lack of progress that bothered him, but the fact that he couldn’t believe a woman as prone to accidents and illness as Lin had almost nothing by the way of medication in her house.

“Bumi, why are you tearing up the kitchen?” He heard Lin’s voice from behind him, and barely stopped himself from jumping. He’d have sensed her coming had he not been so focused on the search at hand. Probably.

“Looking for drugs.” He said as he turned to face her, hoping it might cheer her up a bit. It did not, if her frown was any indication. She crossed her arms, and he held up his in surrender. “No, really. Where’s your, uh… anything? This place have stuff for fevers, at least?” If the flush high on Lin’s cheeks was any indication, she could definitely use it right now.

Lin shrugged, very noncommittal, and Bumi’s eyes narrowed. He knew Lin’s mannerisms to a t, and that one definitely meant the answer was no.

He opened his mouth to speak, ask what she was using as medication, then, but the sharp whistle of the kettle cut him off. Lin winced, a hand going up to her temple. The kettle was quickly silenced, at least, and soon he had a cup of hot water ready to go.

“So, what kind of tea do you want?” He asked, turning back to see Lin at the table, watching him with half-open, slightly glassy eyes. He knew she was exhausted and why she didn’t just go back to bed and wait for him was a question he doubted would ever be answered.

“White peony.” She answered after a moment, crossing her arms again; though he noticed that this time, she’d begun to shiver. In the cabinet he found the tin of white tea leaves, thankfully in tea bags and not loose. He could work with infusers of course, but he had a sneaking suspicion Lin didn’t own one. Because of course she wouldn't.

He left the tea in the water to steep, then set it in front of her. She spared him barely a glance as he ducked into the other room and retrieved his coat, before returning and placing it over her bare shoulders. She tensed, then relaxed, melting back into the red folds of his coat like it was the best thing in the world. Bumi couldn’t help but chuckle at that, remembering that as grumpy as Lin was known to get when she was sick, with a fever she got rather docile, too.

As the tea seeped, Lin watched, no longer quivering as badly within her makeshift blanket. When it was to her liking, she plucked the tea bag out, setting it aside. Bumi sat down across from her, half wishing he’d brewed some tea of his own just to seem less of a mother hen. But Lin’s stock almost depleted as it was, he’d skip it this time.

“So,” He began as she wrapped her hands around the cup, obviously trying to warm them. “You’re not going to work today, right?”

He’d had to broach the subject eventually; she hadn’t mentioned it explicitly which was usually a good sign, but he still had to check.

He was relieved when she slowly shook her head in affirmation, though he could tell it wasn’t an easy decision. It never was, with her.

“I should,” She began, with a heavy sigh. “But I feel like shit.”

“Hey,” He said, putting a hand on her’s, not needing to mention the tremor in her voice to know how she felt about it. “This city can survive a couple days without you, you know that.”

Lin merely huffed, more disapproval then dissent. “I know. I just don’t like it.”

“I know.” Bumi said, squeezing her hand with a smile that only grew as she squeezed back, their time-honored signal. “But, you got me to take care of you! You’ll be back on your feet before you know it.” That got an actual smile out of her, if a tired one.

When she’d finished her tea, he followed her back to the bedroom, where, without prompting, she curled up, his coat still wrapped around her. He raised an eyebrow, for a moment not sure whether he should be amused or concerned, before remembering that if he really wanted to get her even slightly less miserable, he’d need to go out and buy some medicine.

It being early autumn now, he might’ve appreciated having his coat… but decided it was probably better served in Lin’s care.

“Well, if you don’t have any medication here,” He began, pulling in his shoes alongside something slightly more presentable to go out in. “I’ll make a run to the pharmacy.”

Lim grumbled something unintelligible from the bed, probably voicing her disapproval, which Bumi chose to ignore.

“Hey, you’re wrapped up in my coat and a blanket,” He called back, the keys for the satomobile now securely in his pocket. “You need something for the fever, at least… you’re too quiet, I’m not used to it.” He joked lightly, only to be met with a definite, "fuck you", from Lin’s linen cocoon.

There was the Lin he knew, he thought with a smile. A good sign.

Now, to get some medicine for her… and maybe he’d even pick up something nice for her on the way back home.

Before he left, though, he glanced back to the bedroom door, closed now.

Lin Beifong could be many things on bad days, from cranky to seething in her anger, to almost docile like this-- but it was these days, too, that he remembered so very clearly why he loved her. Because she was many things, but she was always so quintessentially Lin, every time… and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#my fics #Lin Beifong #Linumi #sickfic

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effielumiere · 2 years

Text

The Companion 5

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre:Romance, Idol AU, Drama, Comedy, Angst, Soulmate AU (Begins on this chapter), Slow burn (ends here)

Chapter Warning(s): Crying. Secrets unveiled. Little Jimin :D UNEDITED!

Legend:

"English words that are said as is and or/ translated from English to Korean"

Word count: 3.4k maybe 4k (?)

A/N: Hello! I've returned! The slow burn ends here! As the reader, you'll now know why Jimin gets jelly and is very protective of her. Just a quick reminder that this has Soulmate AU included in the genre. I tried to make this a little bit more longer than the usual itty bitty chapters since it's not only gonna be in the MC or Jimin's POV because there's a part that's in Third Person POV from now on, butttt I keep getting the alert of 4096 word block limit on my pc so, Im posting this using my phone. sooooo I'll update soon to make up for the cliffhanger sorry, y'all. (squint in tiny, there's angst in there somewhere lol) I hope you'll enjoy this one💜 Please don't forget to reply here or send an ask (you can be anonymous <3) on what you think about this chapter or the series, like and reblog!

< fourpointfive | masterlist | fivepointfive >

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Good morning," Namjoon grins as he drinks his coffee, the other members were grinning as well and just like that I knew I was in for a treat [insert sarcasm].

"You look great!" Jungkook says a bit too enthusiastically which had me shaking my head as I told him "And here I thought you two had my back,"

"Y/n-ssi," I heard my name being yelled from another room, surely by a certain Park Jimin, "Help... please"

"Does this man know any other word aside from help and please?" I mutter to myself as I walk towards the dressing room, all of the stylists were outside talking about today's set for the performance video. I chug the last bit of my coffee into my mouth as if drinking a shot of alcohol and threw the paper cup into the trash bin before entering the room to my surprise was empty except for Jimin and I.

"Could you help me with my cuff links?" he asks curiously eyeing my movements as I move to the table to remove the cuff links from its box and walking up to him. Reaching for his wrist, I hold it lightly as I put his cuff links in place. I look up and catch him staring at me.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask him quietly.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he talks back in a quiet tone, I sigh and look away from his face and look down, holding his other wrist and mirroring what I'd done to the other one.

"I'm not avoiding you, Jimin-ah," I say as I struggle a little with his cuff links "I'm busy"

He scoffs, "With what?"

"I actually help around, you know"

"I'm pretty sure Sejin-nim knows you're my... personal assistant, meaning you're not meant to be moving around much unless I say so," he says looking towards the door then back down at me. I turn his hand upward as I struggle with the last cufflink, the tips of his fingers gently touch my wrist before lightly wrapping holding it in his hands. I stare at his hand on me before slowly looking back up at him finding his eyes on me. It's been weeks since the music video for Butter was released and I avoided him like the plague on the second day of filming the music video. After that, he kept his distance from me which made me slightly relieved but also unsure. His hair was growing out, rainbow highlights gone and his dark has grow out a bit under the platinum blonde hair.

"I can't just sit around and wait for you to tell me what to do,"

"The staff have plenty of help, Y/n-ssi" he says in a low quiet voice "I thought Moni-hyung told you you're job is to be an emotional companion; next to me most of the time."

"Jesus Christ, Jimin!" I huff in frustration "I need air and space just like any other person!" I drop his hand as I stomp out of the room and walk the empty seat behind Sejin.

"You look like you're about to wring someone's neck." Namjoon says as he stands next to my sitting form "Is that 'someone' Jimin?" Taehyung walks up next to him straightening his shirt a little.

"What did he do now?"

"He doesn't like me walking around helping the staff," I tell them "It's suffocating"

"He just doesn't want to getting tired?" Namjoon says in a questioning tone, unsure with what he just said

"Don't cover for him, Joon" I softly scold him "I don't care if you're siding with his 'good reasoning', y'all are being strange."

"He just cares a lot about , Y/n. Don't question his actions too much, " he says almost dismissively as he straightens his posture next to we when Jimin watches us like a hawk while a stylists fixes his hair.

"Stop questioning everything he does or say," he mutters beside me looking at his phone "He's protective of you for a reason, you'll understand soon. Just give him time and be patient,"

"I don't think I could say before the two year contract ends, Joon" I confess looking around the room as the production team makes sure that everything is all set and ready, "I don't exactly know when, but I'm resigning earlier than what you guys expect." I stood up from my chair and turned around to find Namjoon looking like a goldfish jaw moving, stuttering to say something but I cut him off before he could even say something.

"Don't worry, it's not today or tomorrow, the day after, the weekend or the end of the month or the month after, but it's gonna be sooner than expected if this keeps going" I smile at him as I walk backstage to grab my bag and headed for the exit, hauling a taxi to drive me back to the apartment. Sending Jimin a text saying that I was headed home, not bothering to check my phone when there were notifications that vibrated one after the other.

~~~~----~~~~

I was passed out on the couch after eating a lot of popcorn with two bottles of soda when the chime of the doorbell woke me up. It was repeatedly chiming signaling that whoever was on the other side of the door was very impatient and probably deserved a bat to the head they Steve Harrington crushed a demogorgon's skull into a very unpleasant pancake. I got up slowly cradling my head in my hands, squinting at the bright light of the apartment.

"Calm the fuck down!" I groaned, yelling at whoever was at the door.

"'The fuck you want?!" I exclaimed, pissed as I pulled the door open revealing pillowy lips, puffy cheeks and a pair of dark brown puppy eyes staring back at me, I groaned for the second time resting my forehead on the doorframe "It's late, Jimin-ah! Isn't my job supposed to be over hours ago, besides it's the weekend."

"This isn't work related. I promise." he smiles a little "get dressed, wear something warm and hurry,"

"why?" I croaked

"Because it's gonna be a bit chilly where we're headed, hurry!" he pushes me back inside gently as he enters the apartment with me. I was about to point out that it was rude of him to invite himself in but then I remembered that this was his apartment. I caught him looking around a little bit when I came back after changing my clothes and grabbing a short trench coat from my closet. I was at the doorway putting my shoes on when he slowly walks up to me and waits for me to step out of the apartment before putting his shoes on and locking the apartment door behind him. It felt somewhat like a routine, me putting my shoes on and waiting for him to put on his shoes as he locks the door behind him. It was very couple-like. It was... strange.

"Deja vu"

"Hmm?" he turns towards me "Did you say something?"

"Deja vu," I stare at my feet "It feels like I've been here before,"

"We all get those moments," he says after a little while "You probably experienced it in a different life. It sounds like something Jungkook or Moni-hyung would say."

"It does," I smile as we put our masks on as enter the elevator, heading to the lobby.

"Where are you taking me?" I ask as he drives, light posts passing by, two cars were behind us I guessed it was security. They were always around and I've grown accustomed to it, "Where are we gonna go?"

"Be patient, Y/n-ssi," he smiles as we drive uphill.

"I can't really be patient or calm for that matter when you're driving uphill in the dark," I chuckle "It's past 8pm, we should be in our own beds asleep,"

"This is more fun than sleep," he smiles reaching over to hold my hand, threading his fingers through mine "Let's call it a tourist spot by Park Jimin," he pulls up on an overviewing parking lot of the city. the city light almost covering the entire city. Yellow, white, bits of blue, green and rights in the distance covering buildings making it look like it was a Christmas Village without the snow. He locks the doors and opens the sunroof of the Palisade, pushing his seat back to give him more leg space before reaching behind us where a bag I didn't notice appears. Placing it on his lap he opens it, pulling out a bottle of Soju placing it on the cup holder on the console and pulling out a cylindrical food covered in tin foil then handing it to me. I stare at it then at him as if he was ridiculous.

"What?" he asks, eyes wide

"What are we doing?" I ask carefully

"We're on a midnight picnic," he motions for the tin foil covered food on his hand and I take it from him. Carefully undoing and unrolling the foil I was met with a thin sheet of seaweed wrapper and rice underneath it.

"Did you prepare this?" I ask him as I take a slice of the Gimpab and put the slice in my mouth as I open the packaging at his direction and he grabs a slice

"No," he chuckles "I mean I did, but Yoongi hyung sliced it. I sliced the first one that Jungkook ended up eating, it was all wonky"

"Thank God for Yoongi then,"

"Hey!" He exclaims laughing "I prepared almost everything in this bag for us," He reaches in and pulls out two two-layered bento boxes handing one to me before reaching in again and producing a tiny bag consisting of our utensils

"You can drink the Soju if you want, I could too, but I need to drive us home," He smiles reaching for another slice. Turning behind us again he takes two water bottles and and hands one my way. I look at the windshield again at the city when I noticed a few stars twinkling in the night sky. Remembering that he opened the sun roof, I look up again,

"Woah," I gasp in awe "Now would you look at that..."

~~~~~~~~~~

Jimin couldn't bother about the bento box on his lap and the empty insulated lunch bag in between them. He stared at Y/n, watching her wide eyed staring at the clear stars in the night sky. She gasps as she forgets her food momentarily, mesmerized by the constellations above. He initially planned to show off his Astronomy knowledge by stargazing with her while they sat in the SUV, enjoying late dinner. But the tables turned for a second when he saw how her eyes widened as she looks at the view before them then hurriedly shuffling the get in a good position to look at the constellations above them. Stargazing was his plan, dinner was a last minute idea since he knew that she didn't have enough food left in her pantry, except for the abundance of rameyeon which he now disapproved of because she was losing weight from the looks of it. So he made dinner, two varieties of kimchi, a few slices of samgyeopsal, three medium sides chunks of hanwoo beef that Yoongi taught him to prepare among other things. But everything was momentarily forgotten when he was very close to her. Almost so close that their shoulders were touching. Y/n was oblivious to what she was doing while Jimin was between a rock and a hard place in his head, deciding on whether or not he's going to admit too early the truth of why she was there. Why he really hired her despite how mad and confused the other members where with why he was so adamant that he needed to hire her. The truth.

The truth being out of all of the people in the world and how rare their situation was - rare because not everyone experiences what they did even though she didn't have any knowledge about it - that said situation being soulmates.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jimin was around seven or eight years old when he dreamed of being at an unfamiliar house. But it seemed so real that as a child, he was convinced it was real. Thinking that he was on a family vacation with his family, he calls for his dad, nothing. He tries calling out to his mom, nothing again. His little brother maybe?

"Eomma!" he tries again "Appa!" feeling a little scared that his parents weren't with him in an unfamiliar house he's never been in before, he heads towards the living room couch sitting atop it. He waits a few more minutes hoping his parents will arrive soon for him to get him.

After what feels like hours, the sun was close to setting and he knew it was going to get dark soon, he gets up from the couch to switch the lights open only to be surprised when the lights didn't open, he ran around the house panic setting in as he tries to open the lights to no avail. He opens a door to a bedroom, getting inside he closes the door behind him and climbs the bed hiding under the covers. Soon the sun disappears and it was very dark with only the moonlight from the window being his light.

Jimin bites his quivering lip, 'I'm brave,' he thinks, convincing himself 'I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid of the dark.', he repeats his mantra. He tries to call out for his parents again when no one answers, a tear falls from his eyes followed by more his previous mantra of not being afraid of the dark long forgotten. He sobs quietly under the covers, arms around his legs, forehead on his knees, lightly rocking himself back and forth, he calls out for his parents again. For what feels like a long time he feels his back a bit cold and when he looks up he watches the sheets being pulled back for a second his lifts thinking it's his mom pulling back the sheets only to find a little girl around his age, on top of the covers looking back at him wide-eyed. His eyebrows furrow as he looks at her with tears in my eyes, he decides to ask her if she has seen his parents, but before he could ask she reaches forward speaking in a language he's never heard of before.

"Hello... Don't cry," she says every once in a while after reaches forward wiping his tears with her tiny hands. When most of the tears were wiped from his face, he stares at her face wondering if she was an angel, his guardian angel. She smiles at him and she speaks again "Don't cry, okay? What's your name?" She asks as she wraps him in a hug, he was reluctant at first but once he felt her warmth, he immediately hugs her back holding on to her, scared she might disappear and he'll he alone again, so in that moment at a young age, he made the decision to fully trust her and at that moment the room was filled with light, the question of what his name was forgotten.

Opening his eyes, he looks behind the little girl where the door was open revealing the entire house. From where he was, he was able to see the couch where he was at earlier the entire house was filled with light and when he looked back at the little girl, he finally gets to see how she looked like in the light. He hair was down, lips just as pouty as his are, eyes wandering around the room in bewilderment. She was just as surprised as he was when the light came on, when her eyes landed back on the little boy with pouty lips and chubby cheeks, she gasps. Carefully holding his face she noticed a purple bruising on his right eye where there were tiny lines, not it was her who had watery eyes as she looked at his eye. Jimin finally realizes she was staring at the stitches on his eye that he got a few days ago after slipping in the bathroom.

"Oh this?" he points at his eye, he was about to touch but he remembers his mom telling him not to touch it so he drops his hand "I'm okay," he tells the girl who was now very much sobbing, he points at himself "Okay!" He wasn't entirely sure what it meant but in school the teacher would say it often and he knew it was a good, happy thing. As long as it was happy, she'll probably not cry over it. Jimin gently wipes a few tears that escaped the girl's eyes. He realizes she looked angelic but she also looked as adorable as other babies, he grabs her face gently in between his hands "Baby-ah" he calls her

"Huh? What did you say? I don't understand you," she says, wiping her face.

"I don't understand you," he tells her, she huffs in confusion quickly realizing that he doesn't speak the words she was speaking.

"Hmm... It's okay," she smiles "You and me should stay together," she makes a motion of putting her to index fingers side by side. Jimin nods, understanding the little sign she made. Getting off of the bed together, he grabs her hand and she lets him as he walks ahead of her looking around the house as they made their way to the fridge to find food. After Jimin was doing the extreme stuff for his new found friend; grabbing a nearby chair and climbing it to open the freezer, he grabs the tub of vanilla ice cream and one spoon from the table top (they didn't know where the cutlery was and no one was around to ask), they hold hands again as she leads them to the back yard as she carried the tub and Jimin was holding on to the spoon. When she opens the door to the backyard Jimin sees the ocean and a few coconut trees. They sit on the swing next to each other, eating the ice cream and when Jimin looked up he saw countless stars above him, he tried counting them all with the little girl but they fell asleep next to each other, before he fell asleep he smiled through his one swollen eye at her "I'll stay here with you, I'll never leave you. I promise," Y/n looked at him in confusion but seeing him with his pinky out she quickly wraps her pinky around his and smiles "I'll see you again when we go to sleep, I guess. Now I don't have to be alone here".

When he did wake up, he was back in his room in Busan and for the first time in years, the first thing he did that morning was cry his eyes out startling his parents and his little brother. When his parents asked him why he was crying and kept repeating that he left 'her' when he promised not to, it just made him cry more and when he finally calmed down, he explained to them his dream. His parents look at each other with a look and they smile at him proudly "Jimin-ah," his dad says happily but also sympathetically at his crying first born "You met your soulmate,"

"What is that, dad?"

"It means she's the one you're going to spend your whole life with, someone who is going to love you forever. Kind of like how your dad and I ended up," his mom tells him

"Did she tell you where she's from?" his dad asks to which he shakes his head

"She didn't speak Korean. She knows what Okay means."

"Ah..." his dad nods before looking at his mom who was giggling who said "He's going to have a hard time finding her but at least he knows how to somehow find her,"

"I had a hard time looking for you and you were just a few districts over," he laughs "he might end up going around the globe to look for a soulmate."

Jimin's dad then turns back to him and says "You'll see her again, Jimin-ah. As long as wherever she is, she's asleep. You'll see her again. You'll remember her, but she won't remember you when she wakes up."

"How come she won't remember me?" Jimin asked his dad feeling sad

"Because it's how soulmates work, my son" he smiles at Jimin "We are supposed to find them; they're the other half that will complete us and we, in return , complete them, but we are supposed to find them not the other way around.

She'll remember you when she's asleep, but not while she's awake. So ask her everything you can to find her. Just remember to be kind to her Jimin-ah, and love her unconditionally"

Jimin watches his parents, thinking about what his parents said if what they said was true then he was going to see her again tonight when he goes to sleep. But she didn't show up that evening, and he patiently waited for her until he fell asleep and woke up in his bed again crying to his parents that she wasn't there leading to them comforting a very confused Jimin.

The little girl was there however, but when she fell asleep and arrived in the house at the beach Jimin was already fading meaning he was already waking up soon and she sat there on his spot watching the sunrise crying that she didn't see her new friend at the beach house all because she flew on a plane with her parents to a place called Seoul.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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victorluvsalice · 1 year

Photo

So I wasn’t able to actually PLAY my Chill Save this past weekend, thanks to not having the majority of my mods cleared for the new patch -- so instead I hit Granite Falls in my building save and decided to upgrade one of the cabin lots there for my Valicer trio! (You know, via giving it a makeover and then saving it to my Library to be slotted into the actual Chill Save later.) Ended up choosing “Green Getaway,” since I figured they didn’t need a huge place (especially since only ONE of them needs a bed to sleep in now). I made the following improvements:

-->First of all, the outside is actually green now. XD I actually chose that completely at random because I wanted just to make it something other than brown -- it wasn’t until I was renaming the lot that I realized “Oh, huh, that was apt.” XD Missed the back stairs, but eh, that’s the back, no big deal. (And if I really want I can fix it when I put it into the Chill Save.)

-->I also made the inside more colorful -- the main living space has yellow walls now, and the bathroom is blue with a STONE floor because I felt that was smarter than hardwood.

-->Changed the games table on the front porch to the nicer wood “Don’t Wake The Llama” one (I believe from Parenthood), as I thought that fit better than the base game one.

-->Gave the house a proper mini-kitchen! Pretty much all of it apart from the sink, paper towels, dish drainer, fire alarm, and bin are from Cottage Living, as I felt that fit the aesthetic.

-->Upgraded the couch from a two-seater to a three-seater, and upgraded the TV to match.

-->As this necessitated getting rid of one of the lights, I also upgraded all the hanging lamps in the house to brighter Cottage Living ones.

-->Changed out the bookcase and dining table for nicer ones/ones I felt fit the cabin better, added more dining chairs (Smiler may not need to eat, but I do intend for them to take their laptop on this jaunt), and rearranged decorative items so that they’re all visible with walls cutaway.

-->Also added curtains! From Cats & Dogs if I recall correctly. Just makes the living room look a little nicer. Bathroom got a shade, though I don’t recall the pack.

-->Added the little gramophone radio and an end table for it to sit on (finding one that it WOULD sit on was a task and a half, though!)

-->Moved the cool little corkboard with its pre-placed postcards into the bedroom; also changed the bed to the Rustic Dream bed (or whatever it’s called) that you unlock when you max out the “Patron of the Arts” branch of the Artist career. This is the bed Alice will be unlocking soon, so I figured I’d let her and Victor try it out. :p

-->Rearranged the bathroom so I could fit in a proper shower/tub combo and some better towels (another task and a half to find ones that looked good!).

-->Added a third log seat to the campfire; a third folding chair seat to the cooler sitting area (and replaced the log seat serving as a “table” with an actual log table); and a couple of counters beside the barbecue with appropriate decorative items. Oh, and changed the mailbox to the Werewolves one and the bin to -- don’t recall if base game or from Outdoor Retreat, but it looked better than the standard plastic one!

-->Added the new Werewolves telescope and a water balloon bucket for more activities!

-->Added lot traits -- Sunny Aspect (because it’s a pretty forest); Peace & Quiet (because it’s out in the middle of nowhere and should be pretty chill); Natural Lighting (because it should be a good place to get more pictures for the nonexistent photo album XD).

I think it came out pretty nice -- and it should serve as a nice base of operations for Victor, Alice, and Smiler’s vacation. And, if you agree, since I did this without my mods and CC installed, I put it up on the Gallery! It’s called “Green Getaway Makeover,” under username AliceNVictor. :) Hope you enjoy!

#sims 4 #builds #well makeover in this case #yeah seriously making it green was totally 'oh this looks nice'#and not 'might as well make it fit its name' XD #I was just like 'ugh it's so brown'#and wanted to brighten it up a bit #along with giving the gang a proper place to cook if they so choose #I was pleased to see it already has a horseshoe pit and a campfire and all that #but I wanted to make sure they had a couple of other things to do #hence the water balloon bucket and the telescope #but yes this should be good for my Valicer trio #they'll be taking along some of their own stuff too #Alice of course has her travel easel #and Smiler will take their laptop and probably their yoga mat #Victor I'm not sure yet #but he's the one who will most like the stuff already here soo #should be fun!#queued

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vampireloverz · 3 years

Text

don’t be scared, little one

pairing: demon! shouta aizawa x gn! reader

words: 3.4k

cw/tw: exophilia/teratophilia (seriously its not just dude with ears and tail you’re gonna fuck a demon), dubcon, size difference (i may have gone overboard with this lol), fear, tummy bulge, cumflation, botched exorcism, minor degradation

— “You broke whatever ties I had to this place, to my life, I can barely remember anything now.”

“Thats, uh, good! Right? Now you can leave!”

His booming laugh falls over you like ice water, his ruby eyes catch in the light and you feel a scream start to build in your throat. “You’re so stupid. Now I can touch you.” —

✰ ✰ ✰

You really should’ve been more skeptical when the price of your new apartment just seemed too good to be true. You didn’t care, it was too perfect to pass up. It’s close to work, the neighbors are quiet and nice, the elevator actually works. The downside is that you're pretty sure it's haunted. There isn’t blood or slime dripping from the walls, no terrifying nightmares plaguing you but there’s definitely... something around you, watching you. You didn’t notice it at first, you rationalize misplaced objects and mysteriously broken cups and plates as stress from the move. But after a month you can’t find any more excuses for missing clothes and randomly torn sheets.

“Okay, I get it!” you shout into your empty apartment when your T.V. cycles through channels so quickly it makes your head spin, “I’m living in your home and you’re upset, but I’m not leaving! Since you won’t actually speak to me, maybe you can talk in a different way. I’ll be back soon.”

You leave a piece of scrap paper and pen on your table when you leave. When you come back you find one word in small, neat handwriting. Shouta.

✰ ✰ ✰

You can live with a ghost, you actually think it's kind of cool at first. You manage to get some more information from your spirit roommate by using a notepad. He writes how old he was when he died, how he loved cats, his birthday, but nothing as important as his name. He doesn’t ever actually appear in front of you, but you manage to catch glimpses of him in mirrors and reflections on your phone screen. You know he sits by you on the couch when you watch movies, the air around you grows icy and the seat beside you sinks a little.

He’s helpful, always floating things over to you when you need them and turning off your lights when you’re too cozy to leave your bed. You actually like him a lot, even if the two of you have never really talked.

That is, until he starts doing creepy things.

Normally when you’d change or shower he’d tinker with objects in the living room to show that he wasn’t peeping. Recently, however, you’ve stopped hearing things outside your door and instead feel ghostly fingers graze against your bare back.

Every time it happens you jump about a foot in the air and whip around like you’ll actually see Shouta standing there. You never do.

You’ve been waking up at all hours of the night, jolting awake when the temperature under your covers takes a nosedive. A dip in the mattress like there’s someone laying next to you. You can’t bring yourself to say anything, to move, you just stare at the empty space until you end up falling asleep again.

You randomly end up spending a night at a friends house after your car breaks down and you experience the first uninterrupted rest in weeks. You decide you have to get rid of Shouta.

You start to spend more time out of the house, you don’t need him looming over your shoulder to see you researching exorcisms. You don’t want to spend money to have some phony come over just to sprinkle some salt and take your cash, so you decide to do it yourself. You find some random occult website that doesn’t look too sketchy and begin to prepare. You buy candles and chalk, you think it’s strange that it asks for a lock of your hair and some blood but you ignore the warning in your gut to do as it says.

✰ ✰ ✰

You finish sketching the circle and prick your finger with a pin, wincing as you squeeze out a drop of blood onto the floor. The moment it hits the tile, Shouta appears in his translucent phantom glory. Even in death, he looks tired, you briefly think that he actually looks quite handsome. His long hair falls around his shoulders as he looks down at where you’re kneeling, his face like that of a disapproving teacher.

“Did you really want to be rid of me that badly?” his voice is nice, deep and smooth, but a little odd, it almost sounds like there are multiple people speaking at once.

“Huh,” you say intelligently, “you’re a real ghost.”

Shouta sighs, “Of course I am. Now can you please stop this, you aren't doing it right.”

You ignore him, you’ve already come this far and you really don’t find his antics cute anymore. “Shouta, listen, I'm sorry but I need you out of here. Don't you wanna rest in peace anyway?”

“If you fuck this up something bad can happen. Really bad.”

“Whatever,” you’re not going to waste time talking to a ghost, you pull your laptop closer to you and start to read the incantation off the website.

“Hey, hey!” Shouta tries to step forward and close your laptop but your binding ritual seems to have actually worked, he can't step outside of the circle you've drawn. “Quit it! That’s not gonna get me to leave!” his voice warbles and he groans like he’s in pain.

You flick your eyes up at him and see a shadow pass over his face, his eyes going from black to red and back in an instant. Anxiety creeps up your spine but you keep reciting the spell. You speed through the last sentence as quickly as you can, a sick anticipation building in your stomach like the moment in a movie right before the jumpscare.

You can't look up to see if Shouta is gone, you know he isn't. Or maybe he is. You just know that you don't think you can look up to see what's panting like a beast in your living room.

The dead silence in between its breaths and thick dread presses around you like a perverted hug. You realize you’re trembling, fear gripping you so tightly you feel bile rising in the back of your throat. You are positive you won’t like what you’ll see but you have to know, you have to look up.

You manage to lift your head to face two crimson eyes suspended in swirling darkness. What looks like black smoke rolls off it in waves in time with its breathing. The top of its head grazes your ceiling even as it's hunched over, you can't wrap your head around how enormous it is. Pinned under the stare of that thing you can barely manage to breathe, as if it's reaching out and physically crushing you. Something about its gaze feels familiar, but that can't be. Right? Oh shit.

“Shouta?” you manage to squeak out.

The creature tilts his head and rumbles so loudly that it makes you jump, hands flying to your mouth to cover your little gasp.

He makes the same noise again, like a thunderstorm rolling through your living room, almost like he's laughing. You feel slightly more at ease somehow. At least you didn't summon the Devil, an evil you know is better than one you don't, right? Your mind adjusts a bit to his figure, still vaguely human but so wrong. Whenever he breathes it's like his whole form changes, wriggling and shifting unnaturally, like when you pass your hand through smoke. You’re fascinated by him but you can't deny that he looks absolutely terrifying. You're sure that if you manage to get out of this alive you’ll have nightmares for days.

You swallow down your fear to speak, “Shouta, what… what did I do to you?”

He’s silent for a moment, eyes sparkling with some dark amusement.

“You broke whatever ties I had to this place, to my life, I can barely remember anything now.”

“Thats, uh, good! Right? Now you can leave!”

His booming laugh falls over you like ice water, his ruby eyes catch in the light and you feel a scream start to build in your throat. “You’re so stupid. Now I can touch you.”

He moves, the first heavy thud of his foot hitting the floor makes you shriek and jump up just to land back down on your behind. Your arms shoot back to hold you up so you don’t fall completely on your back and your mind screams at you to get up, run, do anything, but you can’t. You just watch, helpless, as he slinks towards you, rolling his shoulders like he’s getting comfortable in his new form. Your head tilts back to keep eye contact with him, he takes up your entire field of vision.

Writhing shadow lifts toward you. A hand, you realize, inhuman as it is. It’s big, gargantuan compared to you. He makes to grip your throat then pulls back like he realizes that, if he does so, he could hold your entire head in his palm. You watch a lone tendril, a finger, move forward and wrap around your neck. The knuckles of his other fingers press against your chest, you can feel your heart thudding against them. You’re surprised that under the shadow there is something corporeal, something so warm and weighty.

Shouta leans forward and opens his mouth, the several rows of sharp, jagged teeth staring back at you makes your heart nearly stop. His tongue lolls out, inky black and impossibly long with shiny spit coating every inch. Why does the sight of it make you feel… excited? No, that can’t be it.

His tongue makes contact with the corner of your mouth first before it slides slowly across your face, up against your cheek and back down again. It’s so warm and almost nauseatingly slick that it makes you shudder and dig your fingernails into the floor. He licks the sweat away from your temples before sliding down to your neck, almost like he’s grooming you. His breath fans across your skin, goosebumps spreading over your arms and legs despite the warmth.

The tip of his tongue wriggles against your lips, pushing and prodding languidly until he gets impatient and forcefully parts them to press his tongue against your teeth. You don’t know why but you open your mouth for him and are rewarded with a chuckle that almost sounds like he’s purring, the sound echoes in your chest.

It can hardly be called a kiss, his tongue fills and explores your mouth until you gag at the sensation of it slipping past the back of your throat. You’re alarmed when you realize you can’t breathe, hands frantically pawing at his finger around your throat. Shouta doesn’t move, just continues worming his tongue around inside you until you’re lightheaded, until you think you’re going to pass out. It starts to sound like you’re underwater, your pulse thudding in your ears as the edges of your vision begins to black out.

He finally pulls back, taking his tongue and hand away as you sputter and suck in greedy gulps of air. You feel him on you again once your coughing subsides, eagerly palming your chest like he didn’t almost kill you.

You feel so faint and weak that you don’t protest when he drags his hand down your torso, ripping through your clothes with ease. You sob when a claw catches on your nipple. It seems to amuse him, he gives a pleased hum as he throws your torn clothes to the side.

He flips you onto your stomach, so quick and rough it punches the air out of your lungs. You’re still disoriented, vision swimming as you try to lift yourself up. One massive hand holds your head down to the floor, your face turned to the side so you're still able to see him if you strain, and his other tears your pants away to shreds. The tips of his claws graze your thighs none too kindly as he knocks your legs apart, you wince at the pain and hope he doesn’t rip through your skin.

As if he can read your thoughts, you wouldn’t be surprised if he could in this form, he speaks, “I don’t intend to harm you, little one.”

“So let me go!”

He laughs, “I also don’t intend to do that, you don’t want me to anyway.”

Before you can ask why he’d say that, he slips a hand between your legs. You’re mortified to find yourself incredibly turned on, you didn’t even notice the wires for fear and arousal getting crossed and intertwined.

You sob, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to hide your face on your floor.

“Want to know something I remember about being alive?” he voice grates against your ears, you hate that you’re beginning to like it. “Pretty little things like you were just my type.”

The first touch of his cock against you makes you yelp, it slides between your thighs until it nudges your belly. Your eyes widen, there is no way that is going to fit inside you.

It doesn’t feel human at all, it’s so unnaturally heated and textured that you wonder what it would feel like in your hands.

“Don’t worry,” he humps against you and groans, “I’m not that cruel, I’ll make sure you’re prepared to take me.”

You can’t manage to move more than trembling against him, sighing when his cockhead brushes against you just right, just enough to make the heat between your legs burn even hotter. He snickers at the small, sniveling sounds of pleasure you let out. Pinpricks of shame sparking along your cheeks, somehow embarrassed to be aroused in front of this demon, to be turned on by him, because of him. You can’t help it, the anticipation of him splitting you open on his cock has you panting as he humps you, he’s just so enormous, so all-encompassing and warm against you.

The tip of his cock leaks against you, spreading heated slick across your stomach. You feel something damp and warm prod against you and you choke on a moan. Shouta’s tongue licks in circles, his thick spit pooling on your skin until he pushes inside. It’s a strange feeling, having something so slicked up and smooth writhing around inside you. You listen to his open mouthed pants as he pumps his tongue in and out of you, you swear that with every push inside it grows bigger, thicker. You bring your hand between your legs to feel where he’s pushing inside you and you groan at the feeling of his spit sliding down your fingers.

“Go on,” he slurs, “touch yourself.”

You whimper and take your shining wet fingers away to do as he says. His tongue still moves in and out of you at a steady pace, even as your insides spasm and clamp down on him.

“Oh, are you going to cum?”

You nod as best you can, cheek squishing onto the floor as you work your fingers over yourself frantically. You can’t believe you’re actually about to cum but you can’t even pretend that you don’t want to. You push yourself back onto his tongue as you work yourself through your orgasm, whining and panting all the while.

Your hand falls away even as he continues to thrust his tongue inside, stretching you until he’s satisfied. When his tongue slips out you feel hollow and empty, already aching to be filled by him again.

Shouta slams one hand by your head, snarling. “You’re ready now.”

You watch, horrified, as his talons sink into the floor just an inch away from your face when he begins to mount you. His other hand pushes down on your back to hold you in place as he pushes into you.

Tears cling to your lashes, his cock is too big even after he stretched you so much. It’s uncomfortable at first, it aches and burns so badly that you bite the inside of your cheek to distract yourself. Shouta’s tongue licks the tears away from your face, it feels oddly soothing. You hear his claws pop out of the floor beside you, one by one thunking out of the tile as he sinks further into you.

When he reaches between your legs you panic, talons should not be going there. He grunts when you squirm but continues to move, he’s smart enough not to claw you when he pushes a bent finger between your legs for you to hump against. The pleasure makes you relax a fraction, sighing and trying to push yourself forward onto his knuckle.

“Taking me so well, I never would’ve known you’re such a whore.”

You jerk and feel yourself tighten around him, “I’m— ah— not! ’M not a whore!”

“Yes you are, you’re my little whore now,” he sneers. He finally stills his hips but continues to rub himself against your front. “You’re so tiny, I don’t think you can take all of me inside.”

You feel like you’re going to black out, you’re so full of him that you can barely breathe and there’s more? Pathetic, fucked out noises escape you as he starts to pull out.

“Oh— oh! Fuck, oh, my God!” you cry out when he pushes his cock back inside you.

“No gods here, little one, only me.”

He starts slow, you can’t be sure that it’s for your sake or if it’s because your body is resisting the intrusion so much. But, fuck, it feels good. You’ve never been filled like this before, don’t know if you ever will be again. You’re sure that no amount of your own fingers or human dick or toys will ever make you feel this amazing.

And yet, you want more. You nudge your hips into him, wincing at the pressure that washes over you until pleasure replaces it. He hums and starts to fuck you a little faster, the drag of the unique texture inside you makes you throb. You push one hand onto the floor to prop yourself up and push back into him, chasing the satisfaction of his cock hitting so far inside you.

“Greedy,” he muses.

You yelp as he lifts you up, the way one of his hands can wrap all the way around your torso makes your stomach makes a bolt of heat shoot between your legs.

Shouta’s arms wrap around yours from behind, pushing you against his chest with no room to move. He holds you in place so your arms are pinned between his forearms and biceps. He clasps his hands behind you, colossal palms push against the back of your head forcing you to look down at how you’re splayed open, legs dangling limply.

“Oh,” you hiccup, “fuck.”

Every time he thrusts into you your stomach protrudes, bulging out just enough to be visible, the thought of him sheathing himself fully in you makes you dizzy.

“You want more?” he asks, taunting you, “Do you think you could handle me?”

You don’t know, don’t care, you just want to cum.

“Yes! Fu—ck! Haaaah— yes, yes!” you babble.

He drives the last rest of his cock inside, pushing the thickest part of himself past the last bit of resistance your body has. He’s crammed so deep into you that you think you can feel him in your throat. You keen when you watch your stomach distend. You go blind for a moment when he pulls out and pushes back in, being completely filled is making you woozy. You giggle, hysterical as he forces an orgasm out of you. No matter how much you thrash in his grip you don’t throw him off his rhythm. You wail as he fucks you, you can't even find the strength to close your mouth. Your tongue slips past your lips and Shouta’s tongue slides into your mouth, not enough to choke you this time. You can feel your combined drool fall onto your stomach and between your legs, sliding against you pleasantly.

Shouta growls, the volume of it shakes your very bones as he presses his hips up into you with such force you think something might break. His hands press down on your head until you’re almost bent in half, you’re so limp and boneless that you can’t even struggle against him.

He doesn’t warn you that he’s cumming, you just feel hot, fat ropes of his seed fill you. It almost burns, his cum is even warmer than his cock and there’s too much for your body to handle. Your stomach pooches out as he fills you, even though so much seeps out of you that you can feel it slide down your thighs and onto the floor.

Shouta’s tongue leaves your mouth to slip down to where you are connected , collecting his spend on his tongue just to shove it into your waiting mouth. You swallow it down eagerly, sucking on his tongue like it’s the last taste of water you’ll ever get.

He pulls his tongue out of your mouth and nuzzles the back of your head, “You’re my plaything forever now, little one.”

✰ ✰ ✰

first time writing for a gender neutral reader so lmk how i did! :o

this is was inspired by my love for venom (im sure thats obvious lol) and this ask from @misterhoneyyandere, ever since i read it shadow demon aizawa has been living in my brain rent free ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿ also i hope u like this mr honey djdkdndndn

and thank you to @hqmonarch for beta reading kiss kiss ( ʃƪ˘ ³˘ ) 🤍

#tw noncon/dubcon #cw monsterfucking #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta x you #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x you #aizawa x reader #aizawa x you #bnha aizawa #💒.txt #aizawa 🖤#📝 — bnha #very self indulgent like everything else i write :3c #i just wanna fuck a big monster #1k gang

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mxchellesworld · 3 years

Text

Discuss!

Spencer Reid x Reader

Synopsis; Where the team discusses the question ‘do you kiss after head’, you find out Spencer has too little experience to answer the question so you help him out

Warnings; smut, oral (male receiving), sub!spencer, praise, slight degradation

a/n; LMAO im so sorry for disappearing again life has been actually kicking my ass but anyways lately i’ve been thinking about subby early season spence so here we go,, hope you enjoy!

***

Another Friday night and the team was out bar crawling after an easy case. But this time all members were there as it reached 11pm which was rare. Usually Hotch and JJ would have been home by 10:30 and Spencer wouldn’t have been there at all. But there was something light in the air which had all parties concerned sitting packed in a booth, laughing after each sip of their drinks.

Since it wasn’t your first rodeo together you knew how the night went. It started off with Rossi offering to buy the first few rounds, always whiskey but he made an exception for Penelope. Then again who would deny her anything.

Once the drinks were flowing and lips got a little loose, the questions would start popping in at the top of your heads. However these were not your run of the mill, ‘hows so and so doing?’ ‘done your taxes yet?’ oh no. The name of the game was discuss where you would all think of a question which would help you dig just a tiny bit deeper into your coworkers sex lives.

Maybe if you were all sober then you’d avoid thinking of each other in such positions, pun intended, yet in this state your prying minds were open and your stomachs were ready to grow abs from bending over in laughter.

You raised the margarita glass up clinking it with a fork to get the tables attention. Everyone including Aaron had a smile on their face, ready to hear the intrusive question for the night.

“Ok my fellow profilers, doctor, and tech genius,” you added pointing at Spencer then Pen, “Do you kiss your partner after they give you head? Discuss!” you finished in your most formal voice.

Right as you took a swig of your drink the mixed responses of yes and no filled your small space.

“Why wouldn’t you? You guys especially, if someones willingly trying to swallow then you damn well owe them a kiss,” Emily finished earning nods and ‘exactly’s from JJ, Pen, and yourself.

“Ok but thats weird. I just can’t explain it but its a no go for me,” Morgan finished. This only gained him a scoff and raised voices, “Hotch man help me out here,” he said looking over to the man hiding his smirk behind the amber liquid.

“I have to agree with the ladies here Derek,” he said curtly.

The girls yelped and hooted at Hotch for siding with them while Morgan sat with his arms crossed being the singular person left out as even Rossi agreed. Meanwhile you noticed the presence next to you had shrunk back and wasn’t too active in the conversation.

“So Spence do you kiss your partner after they,” you trailed off shaking your fist by your cheek and poking your tongue in the side.

He coughed as he instantly sat up quicker. Even under the dim lights of the bar you could still see the blush creeping up from his neck to his ears and the slightest tint on his cheeks.

“Oh I uh- I never-” he said looking anywhere but your eyes.

“You don’t kiss them?” you said raising your brows.

“No! I-i mean yes. I would I think b-but I haven’t had the chance to actually partake in such.. activities,” he finished finally taking a look into your eyes.

You could tell he was waiting for you to laugh in his face for being so inexperienced but you felt far from it. If anything you wished you could be the one to show him things.

That sweet boy had you wrapped around his finger and he didn’t even know it. Maybe it was his naivety considering how exceptionally smart he was. Or maybe it was the cute sweater vests he wore and now he nervously tucked his hair behind his ears. All you knew was that you wanted Spencer Reid and tonight was your night to make it happen.

You hummed taking in the information, “Well that’s not a bad thing Spence. Everything takes time,” you said putting your hand on his arm for comfort and giving him a smile.

Going to turn back to face the table you almost didn’t hear Spencer go to speak again, “Do you?”

Got him.

“Why don’t you find out pretty boy,” you said with a wink as you downed the rest of your marg. In the corner of your eye you could see Spencer shifting in his seat, subtly moving his bag to cover the slowly growing tent in his slacks.

As the night went by you couldn’t help but really give him a show. You had popped open a button or two on the long sleeve you had on, since it was getting stuffy in the booth. Though when you leaned forward and jutted your chest out, the soft inhale of a breath from the man next to you was just serving as motivation to get bolder.

For the last hour you called it quits on the alcohol and drank a few glasses of water before you drove home. Spencer had been uncharacteristically quiet ever since your little interactions.

The team had all gotten up to say their goodbyes. Rossi going by and giving everyone a kiss on each cheek. Derek having to quite literally rangle Penelope from talking to passing by groups on their way out. Then there were two.

You turned to the side where Spencer was nursing on his coke, “Hey pretty boy, it’s late, let me give you a ride home,” you said grabbing your belongings.

“Y-yeah ok. Thanks Y/n,” he said getting up. You’d noticed how he still had the burnt orange bag over his crotch. He couldn’t still be hard could he? Well you’d love to find out.

As gentlemanly as he was, Spencer opened the door for you to exit the building first. The whip of fresh night air cooling on your exposed chest and legs under your skirt.

You unlocked your car and stepped in, Spencer waiting to hear the little beep signaling his side was open. As he sat down you heard him let out a little whimper. Your head shot over to look at him, you could tell from the flush on his cheeks he didn’t mean to let the noise out.

Holding in your chuckle you started the ignition and pulled out of the lot, “Can I put on some music?”

“Yeah I don’t mind,” he said looking over at you with his lips in a line. If it was anyone else, they’d probably think he was uncomfortable but you loved his tiny awkward smiles.

The ride to his apartment was mostly silent besides a rare quip from Spencer about paper work or fact about an older building you had passed by. It fascinated you to no end hearing him talk. Spencer was a hand speaker, meaning he always used his hands waving them around and making gestures. The pale digits had you captivated. Probably a driving hazard but you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.

You pulled up into one of the visitor spots and put the car in park. You looked over to see Spencer almost contemplating something. You’d seen the look on his face before when he was looking over puzzles.

“Somethin on your mind Doc?” you said with a small smile. As cute as he looked when he was nervous, you’d never want him to feel uncomfortable around you.

“Would you-,” he cleared his throat, “Wo- Would you maybe want to c-come inside?”

“Of course Spence I’d love to,” you finished with a reassuring nod.

As he led you upstairs you were giddy with anticipation. So what if nothing happened. He was your friend first and you were glad he was letting you into his personal space. Even if you wanted nothing more than to have him writhi-

“Y/n?”

The door closing snapped you out of your thoughts. You didn’t even realize you were in his living room. The dark green walls and shelves bursting with books put a grin on your face, “Sorry Doc, just caught up in my thoughts. What did you say hun?”

His brows practically raised to his hairline from hearing the pet name. While he was used to the names coming from Garcia they took a whole different light coming from your lips.

“I was asking if you wanted water or something,” he said fiddling with the keys in his hands. Eyes darting everywhere but your face so you wouldn’t be able to see the flush rising on his cheeks.

“No I’m fine thanks for asking though,” you said taking a seat on the worn leather couch.

You reached for the tv remote making a face at Spencer to ask for permission. He nodded and you settled back turning on an old sitcom that played late at night.

As the episode ended you both sat in silence. Again you didn’t mind but you could practically hear the cogs moving in Spencer’s brain.

You were about to speak when he cut you off before you could even get a word out, “What did you mean by ‘why don’t you find out’.”

Gaining confidence you moved closer to where he was on the couch, slow enough for him to stop you in case he wanted to back out.

“Well you have options pretty boy,” you said moving a leg to straddle him. Your hands instinctively going to his brown locks. You could’ve sworn you heard a little moan leave his chapped lips. Noted.

“W-what are the options,” lust blown eyes looked up to yours.

“One, you can put that mouth to good use on me,” you said trailing your finger over his bottom lip, “and let me cum over that pretty face.”

His eyes shut hearing your words and you weren’t having it, “Nuh uh eyes on me honey,” instantly they were back on yours.

“Or number two. I can suck you off and let you cum down my throat, but,” you paused making sure to roll your hips on his growing length, “ you have to give me a nice big smooch after.”

The hands on your hips pulled you closer as he bucked his hips into you as you finished the sentence. It was clear which option was preferred.

You moved to slide down in between his legs. You let your hands trail down his clothed thighs, causing him to jump.

“Tsk such a needy boy,” you said mockingly, “Am I not going fast enough baby?”

“Please Y/n,” he all but whimpered. It was like music to your ears.

Your hands went to his belt, looking up in his eyes for a final sign of permission. Once he nodded you quickly undid it and he lifted his hips to help get his pants down. You palmed him over his boxers, feeling the wet patch where he was already leaking pre cum.

“Is this all for me Spence? Does the thought of my lips around you make you this hard,” you said taking him out of the striped confines.

“Oh god please just,” he cut himself off. You could see his hands curling fists besides his legs.

“Please what baby? I can’t give you anything unless you ask.” Your hands continued their task of leisurely stroking his length.

“Fuck please put your mouth on me,” he rushed out, hips bucking to prove his point.

The answer was good enough for you so you wasted no time in leaning forward and taking him in your mouth. Both of you let out content sighs as you tried to take him further.

You looked up to see him with his head leaned back, eyes scrunched closes in pleasure.

You pulled off with a pop, letting your hand work him over. “Better keep those pretty eyes on me before I decide you can’t finish.”

He looked down with a flash of worry, that was quickly replaced by a loud moan as you spit down on his cock before taking him in your mouth again.

For a germaphobe, Spencer loved how nasty it was. He was thanking god or whatever higher being there was for giving him his eidetic memory because the sight below him was something he’d never wanna forget.

Your eyes were teary and you had spit dribbling down your chin but he wanted nothing more than to give you more than just a kiss after you finished. Or well after he finishes.

You could tell he was close by the way he was throbbing on your tongue. Again taking him out of your mouth you used both hands to jerk him off.

“You’re doing such a good job baby. So good for me. You wanna cum in my mouth pretty boy?”

“God Y/n I’m so close please please please,” he whimpered out.

“Cum for me baby, be my good boy Spence,” you said before taking him down your throat. He was big, not girthy but long and it was a struggle but you’d be damned if you didn’t try to take him all.

Hollowing your cheeks you bobbed your head quickly, egging on his release further. His hands finally found a place in the back of your head. Pushing you down further as he came.

“F-fuck Y/n I’m gonna”

His moans and whines were a symphony of sounds you’d have on repeat in your head forever.

You swallowed the salty release but before you could even wipe your lips you were being pulled up by Spencer placing his lips on yours. You moaned into the kiss, his hands gripped the sides of your face not wanting to let you go.

The need for air made you both pull back. You looked at one another, chests heaving and looking like you ran a marathon.

Then a sad look came across his face.

“Spencer what’s wrong?”

“You didn’t get any pleasure,” he said looking like a hurt puppy. Oh your sweet boy.

“It’s ok baby, I can take care of myself,” you tried to shrug off.

He was quick to push you back on the couch, taking the spot you were previously in. His warm lips trailing down your exposed thighs.

“I wanna do it, but only if you kiss me after.”

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