#Anyways what i was saying is i just hope all that my brain will serve me until i'll have a chance to admire him in person

[tswwwit]

Have a very long post with many dumb jokes and also pornblography! I do not have a title for it yet because my brain is very bad and titles are hard. Again, NSFW! And it's just about 16k words so beware of Long Post.

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Dipper shoves himself out of the water, shaking mud out of his hair. He coughs, twice, then gasps, sucking in the air.

Did it work-?

He struggles to his knees, churning up the muddy silt from the lakebed, and looks over towards the treeline.

Smoke from the explosion drifts over the treetops. The forest is rife with birds flying away and scattering animals, the fire low in the distance - And judging by the state of the beach, uh. 

There’s a jumble of stuff that looks like charred driftwood. Until you look at it closer.

Dipper sits back, water sloshing around his waist. He lets out a slow, shaking breath.

Yeah. It worked. 

The other monstrous mess on the shore is standing among the wreckage. Intact, smug, handsome. Other adjectives that are less flattering. 

And he’s doubled over laughing.

“You shoulda seen it!” It wasn’t that funny, damn it. Absolutely not knee-slappingly funny, but try telling that to this asshole. Bill does it again, cackling. “You took off so fast it was like-” He makes a gesture that might be a fish leaping, or a particularly inelegant human flailing in an arc. “And the landing!”

Dipper lifts a hand from the muck to flip him off. Not very seriously; he’s too relieved that it’s over with to get truly mad.

A stupid insane plan. An effective plan. Not entirely Bill’s idea, though he went along with it easily enough; he loves danger. 

Though Dipper’s pretty sure Bill’s contribution to the explosive curse could have been at least halved. It’s something to keep in mind for later. 

He gets up slowly, wiping off the mud and what water he can from himself. Trudging to the shore, wringing out his shirt. Now he really needs a shower.

Bill glances over him, hands on his hips. “You look like a drowned rat.”

Dipper gives his husband the same lookover, slowly, to make a point. “You look like a burned one.” Bill’s suit is almost entirely ruined. “With jaundice.”

Bill makes a mock gasp of offense, clasping a hand to the remnants of his shirt. It’s quickly followed by the resurge of the grin. 

“It mighta messed up my style a bit, sure.” Bill says with a shrug. The remnants of the yellow suit jacket cling to his elbows, and his hair’s a mess. “Yet somehow, I’m still better dressed!”

“That’s a matter of taste.” Dipper shakes his feet, trying to get some of the clinging water out of the cuffs of his pants. He knocks his shoes against the ground to clear some mud off. “Yours is bad.”

“This coming from the guy rocking ‘slime monster from the deep’.” Bill shakes his head. “That went outta style in the fifteen hundreds, easily.”

Dipper narrows his eyes, stalking closer until they could almost touch. He leans in, very close - Bill matches it, beaming with pleasure.

And with a satisfying ‘smack’, Dipper plants a palmful of mud right on his smug, asshole face. 

Bill splutters, and Dipper trails muck down his body in a straight line. One heading right from his stupid face, down over all the clean bits of his shirt.

“I dunno, Bill.” Dipper says, taking a step back as Bill’s expression turns from surprise to absolute indignance. Now he’s the one smiling. “I think it suits you.”

Bill blinks for a moment. Mud dripping off his chin, annoyance sliding off his face. 

His grin switches back on, wide and white. 

“Oh, you’re gonna get it for that insult,” He purrs. Dipper tries to dart back, but Bill already has a grip on his waist. “Come here.”

Dipper kicks his legs, he struggles and he swears - This impossible, terrible monster picks him up again, swinging him around.

And he’s laughing, despite all of that, when Bill dunks him right back into the lake. 

When they walk back to the Shack together, it’s long into the evening. The sun’s gone down, and the last bit of red is fading from the horizon. 

Bill swings their joined hands, humming a tune to himself. The other one lights up the way back, a bright blue flame over his palm. 

“Gotta love a good date,” He says, sounding deeply self-satisfied. The pace he’s taken is fast enough to make Dipper speedwalk. “It’s been too long!”

“You’ve been busy,” Dipper reminds him, nudging his husband with an elbow. Some crusted mud flakes off at the contact.

Bill breathes in, looking like he’s about to retort. Then sighs. “Yeah, fine. Gotta give ya that one.” Bill’s mouth purses in irritation. “What can I say! I got a lot of plans that need attention right now.” His eye glimmers in the dark of the evening, gold and brightly lit. “A lot of plans.”

None of which he’s telling Dipper about. 

“Have fun, I guess.” Dipper’s not going to ask. He knows better. “I hope you fail.”

Bill’s got his evil, demonic business - but to balance it out, Dipper’s got his own, human stuff. Sometimes, like their date, Bill even helps out with it. Despite being a demonic king of nightmares and torment, he’s easily coaxed into other stuff, if it’s entertaining. 

Though sometimes, it only means spending time with Dipper.

Bill always claims he didn't have anything better to do. There’s no guessing how true that is. 

“You’re a menace,” BIll says fondly, though his grin starts to fade. He slows in his tracks as the Shack comes into view in the distance. “And speaking of, I gotta get back.” 

Dipper halts in place. Turning towards his demon with an incredulous look. “Again?”

A few days apart is okay, Dipper guesses. Pretty normal, they have their own stuff to do. They  text or call everyday they can’t meet. That’s fine.

But it’s been way longer than a few days. 

It’s been ages since they’ve even seen each other, much less hung out, and they’re married. They finally made time for a date, everything was going well, Dipper was… kind of expecting more to the evening - 

And Bill’s just leaving? Now?

“I said I’m busy, sapling.” To his credit, Bill does sound like he regrets it. He winks, clicking his tongue. “I know, I know, you’ll miss me! Now c’mon, do the honors.”

The Mindscape, right. Sending him back to his realm of nightmares.

Dipper sighs. “Yeah, alright.” It’s part of their contract, anyway.

He sets a palm on Bill’s chest. It’s warm, with a rapid pulse under his palm. Some more mud flakes off from where it’s dried on the ruins of Bill’s shirt. He starts to concentrate -

“Ahem.” Bill clears his throat. One eyebrow raised. “Not the honors you should start with.” He leans in. This time, Dipper leans away. 

He knows what Bill wants. And he’s not doing it. Not in this state, and especially not when he’s ditching Dipper for some godawful reason.

Bill remains undeterred. “It’s demon stuff, Pine Tree,” He says, sounding a bit pouty. Knowing Dipper’s annoyed - but clearly not getting the reason, if he’s still taking off. “You don’t wanna hear it! Or get involved with it.”

And yeah, Dipper doesn’t. 

That doesn’t mean he can’t hate it from afar.

Bill moves in for a kiss again, and Dipper turns away. Again. They’re both filthy and he doesn’t want mud in his mouth. Spite, though, is definitely part of it.

“I’ll see you later, Bill.” He says, and shoves his idiot husband back into his stupid demon realm. 

Bill vanishes, instantaneously. Sometimes Dipper’s not a fan of the transition, it’s literally quick as thought -  but this time it means Bill doesn’t get to try whatever excuse he was coming up with.. 

Dipper shoves his hands in his pockets, head down. Stalking back home, and frowning.

‘Demon stuff’. 

Under any metric, their relationship is. Weird. 

Dipper stumbled into the demon side flirtation, and Bill knows how humans do things. They’ve been meeting somewhere in the middle ever since. Dipper’s learned a lot, and Bill knows humans. He’s even willing to dip his own toes into the typical human stuff, with surprising insight and the appropriate success.

Bill was even having fun earlier, with purely human things, that - had some violence, admittedly. 

But the explosion wasn’t what made Bill smile, and the litter of body parts didn’t make him laugh.

…Unless it did.

Dipper drags a hand over his face. He can’t deny that he’s hip-deep in the demonic side of relationships. It’s how they got their start.

No normal human would think exploding a corpse-eater was a date. It was demonic to its core - 

…And. Not a great one, apparently. 

Bill’s whole MO Is demonic stuff. He’s made for it, spent eons on it. It’s entertaining. Running off to do some ‘big plan’, sure, that makes sense for him. It’s more interesting. 

Why his husband doesn’t rank on Bill’s priority list is- 

Dipper drops his arm back to his side, before he burns another handprint into the doorframe. 

Whatever version of demonic ‘seduction’ Dipper’s managed to cobble together. It must not be very compelling. Bill’s interested, sure - but not enough to linger once things get boring. He thinks it’s totally fine to just take off at any moment. 

Dipper rubs at his eyes. He stands in the doorway of the Mystery Shack, looking up into the wooden slats of the ceiling.

But then  Human romance never worked out for Dipper. Then demon romance.... Kind of did? By accident. Under anyone’s critique, he’d rank far below expert.

Maybe…

He’s missing something? 

Obviously Dipper’s never going to catch Bill’s eye with human stuff, when it’s never worked on other humans  - and while he’s gotten a hang of demonic flirting, he’s never been a dating expert. 

Dipper drums his fingers against the doorframe, eyes narrowing. 

If it weren’t for everything else he has at hand. He might have been at a loss. But part of being married to a demon, and visiting his infinite terrible realm, means Dipper can get to things no other human could.

He nods once. Firm, and certain, clenching a fist.

It’s time to do research.

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

Finding information about demonic courtship ends up far easier than he expected.

And less convenient than he hoped. 

Dipper should have remembered before he came up with this idea. His phone only works for contacting Bill whenever he wants. It’s powered by an infinite, triangular battery, its network hitching off a ride on a life-bond.

It made it easy to forget a very pertinent, pivotal point for his research.

There’s no internet in the Mindscape.

No demon worth their salt would give out free information. Sometimes they write things down, in diaries, dangerous tomes of spells, etcetera - but they’re hoarded like the precious things they are.

Instead, they go in hard on gossip. Everything’s up for trade as a favor, or used as a bribe. Knowledge is power, and in demon society? There’s always a power play going on. It’s a constant game of keeping their friends close, and their enemies closer. As far as Dipper can tell, the two are often the same thing. 

Deals were completely off the table, for marriage reasons. Bribes were okay, but hard to figure out. It could even have dragged Dipper into demon drama, which is something even Bill avoids. It could have been an ordeal that came a huge cost, one he couldn’t - or wouldn’t - pay. 

For once in Dipper’s life, he actually got lucky. 

Turns out being Bill Cipher’s spouse opens all kinds of doors.

A few comments, a couple of bribes - snack cakes are popular, he’s noting this all down later to share with Ford - and a few memorized threats? All while name dropping Bill? 

It got him everything he could ask for. 

….Considering the topic, there might also be gossip going on - but he’ll deal with that later.

Right now, Dipper kicks his feet up on the ottoman, and clicks his pen. Notebook ready, research material at hand.

No other human has ever had this much demon-made writing to go through. Not without having their eyes burned out of their skull, or their soul taken in a bargain. Dipper spends a moment feeling proud. 

It might be dangerous, but Dipper’s smart. He’s cautious. He’s got demon magic built right into his soul. He’s also got plenty of time, no sleep to worry about, and piles of resources, carefully gathered.

He’s got this.

Dipper picks a bit of spiderweb off the top magazine on his pile, and flips through it. Skimming over articles, pen at the ready.

And pauses. 

He flips a couple more pages, leaning back a little in his seat.

This. Isn’t what he expected. It’s also not not what he expected, but. It might be a fluke,  so he tosses that issue aside, picking up another.

Then another.

Dipper flips through a few more, with increasing desperation.

 In every issue -  in every magazine - The article titles shout back at him with their bright exclamation marks:

How To Get Them To Fight You In 10 Easy Steps!

Obtuse or A-CUTEY - How To Get In Shape For Summoning!

Top Twelve Exoskeleton Buffs for YOUR Intended!

Simple Ways To Even Out Your Angles In Just One Century !

Do They REALLY Hate You? Find Out With This Quiz! 

Dipper rubs at his eyes. 

Not… his best call. Getting his hopes up. Even thinking he’d get some kind of academic article was downright dumb. He knows that isn’t up most demon’s alleys.

Bill would know where to find studies, and statistics. If they exist. He likely has entire tomes on the subject, if only to laugh at them - 

And he’s the last person Dipper can ask. 

He ditches that idea, as well as the issue  of Cosmophage he was skimming through. He picks up a Playbaal instead. 

More of the same in this magazine. Though a lot more racy. Dipper makes a face at the letters to the executioner section - they’re gory and unbelievable. No human is that dumb, and that’s coming from him. Nobody offers themself up on a literal silver platter.

Two hours later, Dipper’s still made zero headway. He’s also slumped in his seat, almost lying down in the chair. 

At this point, it’s getting boring. 

He is learning a lot about demonic fantasies, and something of their proclivities - but he’d already known the basics. It’s only extrapolating from stuff he was already aware of, to absurd, insane degrees. It might as well be the internet for how true any of this bullshit sounds.

 Dipper keeps flipping through them, out of sheer repetitive motion. In this one, there’s a couple glossy pages in the center, easily opening to lie flat in his lap.

He blinks. He stares.

Dipper sits up with a sharp jolt. After a moment, he shakes his head, centering himself.

Right. It’s. The pinup photo. Magazines have those. 

He quickly checks the cover - it’s from about two hundred years ago. He makes a face. Still pretty weird.

…..He didn’t know Bill ever did that kind of thing.

In the photo, Bill - true Bill - lounges on his side, top point in his palm. His hat is off - weird - and there’s an artful drape of silk over where his tie should be. Or is? It’s impossible to tell if it’s on or not under the cloth. Likely that’s the point.

Dipper snorts, tapping the picture of Bill’s eye, twice. Then remembers - shit - startles, and claps the magazine shut, looking up and around. 

Thank hell, he’s still alone. Bill must not have been paying attention. 

God, if Bill caught him with this, he’d instantly make a whole host of assumptions, and grin like a maniac. Even worse, his ego would balloon into impossible dimensions.

Dipper thinks for a moment. Tapping the magazine on his lap. Then he shrugs, and carefully tears out the glossy photo pages. 

If he hides this in the right place, Bill might find it within the month.

Dipper crumples the rest of the magazine into a ball, glaring off into the distance, before dropping off the side of his chair. 

At least one good thing came out of this quote-unquote research. He’s barely learned anything. Other than that demons can be as absurd as humans, and he already knew that.

But. 

There has to be something here. These wouldn’t be the most popular works about demonic romance, among demons, if they didn’t have some grains of truth buried within. He just has to find them.

He’s already mastered parts of demonic seduction. Even started doing the regular kind, a little. He’s probably better at it than any other mortal around.

But that isn’t going to work with Bill this distracted.

Dipper clicks his pen, heaves a long-suffering sigh - and starts taking notes. 

He might as well try some new ideas.

Three Easy-Fake Injuries To Tempt YOUR Lover!

With a swear, Dipper stumbles, and falls. He hits the ground a little harder than he’d like, sucking in a breath through his teeth. “Shit.”

Bill’s attention snaps towards him instantly. 

“What’s up?” Now he’s frowning, dropping his prey. “You trip or something?”

The demon Bill was berating shudders, sliding down to the floor in possibly boneless relief. They scuttle away over the black bricks on all twelve limbs.

“Mh,” Dipper grunts, shutting his eyes and hugging his leg himself. Keeping composed, and his face scrunched up. Holy shit, this actually worked - “Ow.”

"You gotta be the most unlucky human I've ever met." Bill stalks over, giving Dipper a derisive look. "Where'd you break this time?"

“Shut it.” Dipper says, annoyed. He couldn’t totally fake a fall, he’s not an actor. Bill would have seen through him immediately. Then admits, “It’s my ankle.”

Bill sighs, rubbing at his eye. His phone rings in his pocket, and he grumbles something inaudible. “Of all the-” He crouches down. “Alright, what’s the damage?”

“It’s fine,” Dipper says, honestly. Then Bill yanks his leg out of his grip, and okay, maybe this wasn’t the best approach.

DIpper winces, lying back on the floor. Bill rolls his eye, tugging his leg out further.

Adding some verisimilitude was the goal - but it ended up being a little too thorough.  Bill glares at Dipper's ankle like it's insulted him, and Dipper finds himself doing the same. It's less painful than he's acting - but more than he wanted it to be. Which was any.

Though as long as he has Bill here…

As Bill examines him, Dipper shifts his other leg away. And maybe tilts back a little. When he scoots a little closer on the floor, it helps to ‘accidentally’ pull his shirt up a bit. 

Bill hums for a long moment, eye narrowed as he toys with Dipper’s ankle, turning it this way and that. His eye flicks over Dipper, lighting up for a split second as it takes him in. 

Then he sighs, and stands. 

“Uh. Hey.” Dipper says. He clears his throat. Then smacks the floor next to him.  “Bill, I’m really vulnerable here.”

“Eh, you’re fine. It’s not even a sprain!” Bill shrugs, apparently dismissing him. He turns and glares down the corridor, hands on his hips. “Where the hell did that caterer go?”

Dipper leans back, elbows on the floor and legs spread. Glaring as he watches Bill walk away without even another glance.

Okay, technically that worked. Temporarily. 

But Bill’s too clever to be tricked by minor setbacks, and Dipper’s not willing to inflict something serious.

He’ll have to move on to something else.

Exotic Mortal Treats - GUARANTEED To Spice Things Up!

“So, uh.” Dipper winces at the crunching sounds. It’s louder than two granola bars combined.  “How is it?”

“Mh.” Bill sucks some unidentifiable goo off his finger, pulling it out of his mouth with a pop. “Nice, sapling!” He grins, and winks. “You should bring me snacks more often.”

Dipper offers an awkward smile. 

Bill shoves another scorpion in his mouth, and starts to crunch. His mood’s definitely picked up, at least. He starts picking some carapace from his teeth, leaning forward in concentration.

Beyond that, he doesn’t seem to react. 

Dipper pulls a chair over. He scoots a little closer, watching Bill work with… whatever he’s working with. He clears his throat. “How are you feeling?”

Bill’s manipulating some magical array with stars and planets slowly rotating on a field. He makes a face at it, muttering under his breath.

“I’m feeling like some of these idiots should help out with the setup,” He says irritably, smacking the wheel of not-space and making it spin. A long line of celestial bodies Dipper can’t identify line up in a long string, and a beam of light shines through them to another point. “Who’s doing all the heavy lifting here, anyway?

Dipper shrugs. He gazes moodily into the empty terrarium.

So much for that advice. He might as well have bought a bag of chips. It’d have been way cheaper, and he’d actually be able to eat some.

Bill’s busy with his project, and Dipper’s taking a backseat to some demonic ongoings. Which is. Y’know. Fine. It’s part of their deal; they both get to do their own things. 

Dipper taps his foot on the floor. Waiting. 

But, no. There’s no reaction. Hell, now that he thinks of it - If this was going to have an effect, Bill knew what he was eating. He would have gotten the implication, first thing.

Eventually, Dipper sighs. He leans on Bill’s chair. “What kind of party is this?”

Bill looks up, one eyebrow raised. Somewhat surprised.

Dipper doesn’t budge. Nudging Bill, and staying firm. Which only makes Bill look more surprised. 

Not without reason, either. Normally Dipper wouldn't want to know what Bill’s getting up to. They have kind of a live-and-let-live agreement regarding morality, each of them doing their own thing. Usually he prefers to not be in the loop.

This party has been interfering for way too long. 

“Eh, it’s one of those cosmic convergence shindigs,” Bill says, and shrugs. He leans back in his chair, rubbing at his eye. “Not mine, technically. But it’s a big deal!”

Dipper glances over the map of celestial bodies, spinning again in the lit-up illusion. 

Okay. Not a common occurrence. He’ll give it that.  “...How often does this happen?”

“About once a millenia.” Bill stretches his arms behind his head, starting to smile again. One of his first loves - over-explaining. “I’ve hosted it the last twenty, thirty times? Something like that.” He buffs his nails on his shirt, looking proud. “Nobody’s got a better event plaza.”

So that’s it, then. 

Dipper slumps back in his chair. He lets his arms drop to his sides.

Bill must get a text or something, because he checks his phone and starts frowning instantly. Starting to sulk a little as he fiddles with his map, and something else on a lit-up diagram. He makes a face, muttering under his breath about idiots, incompetents, and other idiosyncrasies.

…Setting up this party must be a headache and a half. 

If it’s an event that only happens every thousand years, it’s got to be important. No wonder it’s taking up so much time.

On the upside, once this awful event is over with, it’s not going to come up again soon. Bill can’t get distracted by it - Hell, Dipper won’t even be around for the next one.

A thousand years is longer than Dipper can imagine. Ten times longer than he could ever live. A human’s life is pretty small, compared to most supernatural beings.

On the timespan Bill’s working with, it’s barely a footnote.

Demon events have gotten between them before. Dipper’s own plans have caused scheduling conflicts, too. Interruptions happen, life throws curveballs at them, and they both get busy - 

But not for this long. 

Dipper starts to say something - then hesitates. He’s not sure what to say.

Bill sticks his tongue out, his focus torn between something with that array of spinning stars, and texting someone back. He’s muttering to himself, frowning. A foot tapping the ground in irritation.

…As far as Bill’s concerned, Dipper might as well have faded into the background.

Dipper rests his chin in his hands. Waiting might be pointless, but. He’ll stick around for a bit. In case it works.

He wants Bill to throw him into a lake, or tell him he’s stupid, pick him up and insult him. Or at least care that he’s around when he’s sitting right there - 

He drums his fingers on his knee, other leg jogging in place. 

Bill doesn’t seem to notice.

Dating The Vain Type? How To Get ALL Their Attention on YOU

“This tie?” Bill holds one up in front of himself, facing the mirror. “Ooor this one?” He holds up another.

Dipper doesn’t say anything as he stalks into the bedroom, hands shoved in his pockets. 

“Or this one!” Another tie pops up out of nowhere. “What’s a good look?”

Dipper shrugs. It doesn’t matter. Who cares, anyway.

“Speak up already, I need a second opinion!” Bill’s reflection in the standing mirror shows a slightly confused expression. “What’s with you?”

Dipper glares at his husband’s back, shrugging again. Bill makes a miffed sound, but so what? 

All Bill cares about is this event he’s throwing. He’s complained about it for weeks now, he’s had plenty of time to prepare. One small human’s opinion isn’t going to matter.

And if Dipper has to hear one more word about this godawful party…

“It’s happening tonight, kid!” Bill jogs both tie options in his hands, prompting. “It might not be my favorite occasion - but that’s no excuse for not looking sharp!” He turns towards Dipper with a wink. “C’mon, what’s good?”

Dipper stalks over towards Bill, ignoring his questions and the weird look he’s being given. He knows he’s tense, that he’s stomping on the carpet, and that this is pretty stupid - 

But it was in the article. 

And he’s kind of wanted to do this before, anyway.

He meets Bill’s eye, flips him off - and shoves the stupid standing mirror over.

The entire thing, brass stand and all, goes toppling to the floor. The metal hits the ground hard, sending the mirror shattering into a million pieces - and Dipper jumps in place, startled. 

Bill merely watches. A blank expression on his face, staring as his narcissistic toy gets moderately obliterated. 

The brass stand clangs on the floor for a while, then settles down. There’s a brief silence. 

Dipper takes a step back, awkwardly clearing his throat.

Shit, he thought that would be more durable. Most things in Bill’s place are impossible to break. Now there’s a billion tiny shards on the floor, glimmering up at him.

Though. The articles were technically correct. It did get Bill’s attention.

Dipper’s not sure what to say now.

Even Bill doesn’t have anything to say. He looks between the shattered mirror and Dipper, obviously surprised even seconds later. 

“...I take it that’s a no on both of ‘em.” He says, eventually. The smile doesn’t make a return.  He glances over, blinking rapidly. “What, did you wanna join the party?”

He’s still thinking about - how could he be - 

Dipper clenches his fists.

Time after time after time, Dipper’s heard about the drinks selection for a party, or the guest list. Even the games Bill has planned. He can’t help but ramble in his enthusiasm, until Dipper either has to leave the room, or cover his ears against it.

There’s been none of that for this event. 

It’s taken longer than every other one. It’s commanded too much of his time. Dipper hasn’t felt Bill watching him through either his regular gaze or his supernatural one, for weeks, and they only had one date this month.

Instead, Bill’s been doing setup - which he grumbles about - and worse, he’s had to organize. That always puts him in a bad mood. He’s bitched and complained, he’s made disgusted faces at his phone. He hasn’t rambled, or bounced in place. He hasn’t once looked happy about it. 

Hell. It’s not even his in the first place.

“I don’t know why you’re spending so much time on this crap.” Dipper meets his husband’s eye. He throws his arms out, incredulous. “Bill, you don’t even like it.“

Bill, for once, doesn’t have a response. 

He opens his mouth to say something - shuts it again.  He blinks rapidly, expression changing as he tries to work something out - it turns into a grimace - 

“I’m gonna go to take a bath.” Dipper says, shoulders rising -  and stalks off. 

Behind him, Bill remains silent. Thoughtful, and still.

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

Spending time at Bill’s place isn’t Dipper’s first preference. Spending time with Bill is the main reason to do so, because Dipper likes his time linear, his spaces Euclidean, and his company not cannibalistic. For every upside, there’s a definite down.

But if nothing else, the Fearamid has luxury in spades.

Dipper blows bubbles under the water of the bath. It staunchly refuses to stop being warm and comforting. 

The stupid soap even smells nice; Bill must have changed out the options. Dipper knows Bill’s paid attention to some parts of what he wants, including the little things like ‘no more titan arum scented stuff’. He knows Bill’s made it slightly more human-safe, because none of the water comes out literally boiling anymore. 

Dipper knows Bill knows these things. He knows a lot of things. Hell, he’s supposed to be ‘all-seeing’, so there’s no good reason some things still get overlooked - 

He also knows he’s sulking.

Bill can’t read his mind. That’s been a fact from the start. 

Without that advantage, Bill has to rely on all his other knowledge, and extrapolate. Most of the time he predicts him well enough that Dipper never gets a chance to speak up - 

So it strangely sucks when he doesn’t.

Sulking’s good, though. Dipper manages some impressive bubble piles, sloshing around in the water. 

He already knows what he should do. It’s the sensible thing. The human thing. It might even get Dipper what he wants, it just. 

…Also kind of sucks. 

If he stays any longer in the bath, his fingers are going to get all wrinkly. Or Bill will leave for the party, probably. He’ll miss his chance, and then, how will he bring up - 

Wait. 

There’s music, somewhat muffled through the wall between the bathroom and bedroom. 

Dipper sits upright, shaking some bubbles off of his face with a frown.

Bill’s playing piano. Which is weird. He only does that when he’s relaxed, and lately he’s been anything but. 

And if ever there was a sign, then he supposes this would be it. He tilts his head back, breathing in slowly. 

There’s the music.

Time to face it.

Dipper gets out of the bath, sitting on the floor near the edge. Kicking idly in the water as the music continues. Something bright and jaunty. A tune of self-satisfaction, and a perkier mood. He spends more time than he should toweling off. Pacing, back and forth between the hundred baths on the floor and on the walls. 

Eventually, he brushes his teeth, staring into a mirror that’s bigger than he is tall. 

Dipper makes a face at his own reflection. Walking into the bedroom with that expression is going to let Bill catch on, fast. 

….They should really be better at this. 

It’s been years.

Whenever Dipper has to say something, it always comes out awkward. He doesn’t know how to do it right. 

With Bill, he hasn’t had to come out and talk directly very often, which is something of a relief. 

He guesses it’s not a surprise, really. They’re the worst combination for true sincerity - a socially awkward nerd, and emotionally stunted jackass. The fact that they get along at all is nothing short of miraculous. 

They’ll just have to…Sort it out.

Dipper nods at his reflection. He takes a deep, calming breath, and lets it out.

The good news is he looks more certain than he feels, even as he heads towards the door. 

Their bedroom is the same as always - once you allow for the fact that it changes on a whim, parts clicking in and out of place on sheer demonic will - and the carpet is soft on Dipper’s bare feet. 

He drops the towel to the floor, and tries to finger comb his hair. It buys him time, while he thinks about how to start. He doesn’t want to turn towards Bill, feeling weird about their earlier interaction - but he glances over, just once.

Where Bill’s leaning from his perch on the piano bench, tilted at a dangerous angle. 

Dipper looks away again, face feeling hot. He walks in a little further, and Bill tracks him, following his every move - 

…How Bill keeps playing when nearly horizontal is a mystery.

On the plus side, Bill’s fine. Cheerful, for the first time in a while. And the mirror’s gone too, which is a relief. The tightness in Dipper’s chest loosens a bit. 

Then he frowns, setting his hands on his hips. 

Where the hell is the dresser with his clothes. Bill better not have vanished it again.

There’s a low whistle behind him.

“Shut up,” Despite himself, Dipper smiles. “You’ve seen me naked before.”

“And I’ll see it five thousand times more!” Bill changes the song he’s playing. It’s lighter, and brighter. “At minimum.”

Likely he’s right about that. Dipper wishes he had something to toss at him, but he already dropped the towel. He rubs at one of his arms.

Being eyed up is. Not weird, but oddly comforting. Bill always ogles him like a creep. Always wanting a peek, or a look, or suggesting revealing clothing with a smile and wink, like the jerk he is. Partly because he is kind of a creep, but mostly because -

Because Bill thinks he’s hot. 

Even if Dipper knows he’s watching, Bill’s not going to stop watching, even if it’s awkward. Part of him must like the awkward, he’s never failed to find Dipper compelling, even when most human people would say he’s a huge dork. 

Bill literally has his eye on him, all the time. Always wanting to know what’s on his mind.

Dipper rubs a thumb over his left palm, and hears Bill make an annoyed sound. In his mind, he’s shouting at himself. 

Why did he bother with ‘research’? He was overthinking, again. He always does this. Which, if he’s right, and Bill likes it -  must be extremely compelling.

Behind him, Bill makes a curious noise. The bench makes a creak as he scoots over.

And Dipper shifts from foot to foot. 

If he’s going to do this, then. Second-guessing himself is going to get them nowhere. 

And all that demonic advice was terrible.

Obvious Come-on? More Like Obvious Turn-off - 10 Mistakes To Avoid!

For the second time tonight, Dipper does something he’s wanted to do before.

Damn it, he  doesn’t know what a seductive slink should look like. They’ve done it a lot, Bill’s never complained - but Dipper’s never intentionally looked sexy. 

In the end, he doesn’t bother. A walk is fine, if it gets him where he needs to be. 

Bill doesn’t move from his seat on the bench. He straightens up as Dipper approaches, looking pleased. He tracks Dipper until it’s impossible - he can’t turn his head 180 degrees. 

Once Dipper’s behind his target, he shuts his eyes. He’s got this. This will work - reassuring himself, while Bill keeps playing. Though his head is slightly tilted, listening. Expectant.

Bill isn’t expecting Dipper to drape himself over his shoulders. His shoulders rise as Dipper wraps his arms around them. There’s a sharp intake of breath.

“Sorry about the mirror.” Dipper squeezes his idiot husband, tight. Likely Bill doesn’t care, but someone has to have morals in this relationship. 

“I don’t care,” Bill says, very dry. Dipper can almost feel him roll his eye. Bill’s chest puffs out a bit as his posture changes, and there's a smirk in his voice. “Nice you’re still here, sapling.”

Dipper breathes in, and lets it out. 

Slowly, he runs a hand over Bill’s chest. The shirt is thin enough that he can feel the warmth underneath, easily - and Bill’s not wearing his tie. By his standards, he’s already a quarter naked.

So. This isn’t that weird. Half of the work is done for him.

When Dipper starts unbuttoning Bill’s shirt, he misses several notes. 

“Hello,” Bill says, a bit distant sounding -  before realizing that response was semi-brainless; he shakes his head. Looking down at his slowly opening shirt. “What’s this about?”

“I’m getting your attention.” Dipper smacks him on the side. Now that the shirt is half opened, he slides a hand underneath the fabric. “Jerk.”

“Done,” Bill sits up straight, raising his hands like he’s held at gunpoint. Dipper slides a hand over the warm skin of his chest, feeling the heart pick up its pace. “Actually, you can have all of it!”

And when Dipper strokes a thumb over a nipple, Bill gives a full-body shudder, and a soft sound from the back of his throat. 

Holy shit, it did work. It’s working perfectly - Dipper feels a surge of triumph. 

Not only did this do the trick, it was easy. It was simple. It’s even fun to slide his palm over Bill’s chest, to toy with a nipple, listening to him grunt a little and start clasping Dipper’s arm. 

Bill thinks he’s hot, after all. Bill wants him. 

Why did he think he needed to make it complicated? 

Dipper presses a few kisses onto Bill’s neck, feeling his chest still in a held breath - then moves onto the shell of Bill’s ear. He draws the earlobe into his mouth, biting gently.

“And come to think of it…” Bill’s tense, muscles drawn tight. Like he wants to surge up, while also not moving away. He raises one imperious finger, his voice is slightly rough. “I have been meaning to lavish my attentions on someone, recently.”

“Good plan.” Dipper hugs Bill tighter, then adds, “Since I wasn’t giving you a choice,” As he drags Bill backwards off the bench.

Bill nearly falls on his ass. Grabbing onto Dipper’s arms as he struggles to find balance, squirming in the grip, even the piano bench gets kicked over - 

And all the while, he laughs like a maniac.

He’s too quick, though. After only one severe stumble, Bill’s back on his feet before Dipper can react. 

Bill seizes Dipper in an instant, gripping his upper arms tight. His grin maniac, and his eye glowing bright. “Oh, sapling.” His voice is a low hum, teeth white and bared. “I'm gonna make you pay for that.”

“You can try.” Dipper says. He gets a grip on Bill’s lapels, hauling him in until they’re face to face.

God, finally. This is what he wanted, and it came so easily. Not only that, it’s way more fun than - 

Bill’s phone starts ringing again. 

Both of them glance down. Bill grimaces. He stops petting Dipper’s side to pull the offending item out of his pocket and glare at it. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

And Dipper… lets his arms drop. 

Another interruption, for an important event. Bill’s powerful, but even he can’t change time, not in any meaningful way.

Priorities mean that. Something else gets put on the sidelines. 

“Screw ‘em.” Bill declares suddenly, and hurls his phone across the room.

Dipper looks up just in time to catch the motion, as the offending object cracks against the wall over the headboard, bouncing onto the bed. 

“Total waste of my time.” Bill brushes his hands off, dismissive.  “If they can’t pull the convergence off without me, they didn’t deserve it in the first place.”

“Oh thank god.” Dipper didn’t mean to say that out loud - but now Bill’s looking at him weird, so he adds. “You’re not going.”

“Decided not to half an hour ago,” Bill says, with a shrug. That’s why his mood has picked up - Dipper stands a little straighter. “They shoulda gotten the picture when things got started without me.”

It’s already started. Bill should be there, and he’s spent a lot of time on this thing - Dipper hesitates. “Are you sure?”

“Definitely! You see- Hm.” BIll starts, then hems and haws. He’s also, very unsubtly, backing Dipper towards the bed. He takes a few moments, face scrunched up, before admitting, “You had a decent point.”

Dipper blinks for a moment. Wow. Now that’s rare.

But he’s not too surprised to let it slide. 

As Bill pushes, Dipper lets his feet dig into the carpet, and adds a palm on Bill’s chest. It draws them to a slow halt.  “You’re serious.”

“As a broken femur.” Bill declares. He squeezes Dipper’s waist, while a smile creeps back onto his face. “I’ve hosted this shindig nearly two dozen times, and every millenia they make it more of a drag.” He sticks his tongue out - then chucks Dipper gently under the chin. “Quick life tip, kid - if it sucks, stop doing it!”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Dipper grabs onto Bill’s lapels again. There’s a smile threatening to emerge. Though, admittedly, he could be trying harder to hold it back.

“Good choice! It’ll keep ya from getting stuck in a routine.” Bill shudders dramatically, and starts backing Dipper up again. After a second he pauses -  and presses a quick, wet kiss on Dipper’s forehead. “Your little reminder came in handy.”

Dipper reaches up from Bill’s lapel, and cups his cheek. Feeling his demonic grin widen under his palm - and feeling oddly touched. 

Though he knows Bill can be fooled, it doesn’t make the rare moments when he is less surprising. Knowing that Dipper was right feels triumphant, and good. Knowing that Bill could have gotten stuck without a reminder. 

It's also a reminder for Dipper. He is smart, and Bill likes that -

Dipper��s legs hit the edge of the bed, and he jabs his husband in the chest. Very lightly, not more than a prod. "Not going to miss the party?"

“Hardly! That crap’s about as amusing as paperwork.” Now Bill’s grin is truly, monstrously wide. He tilts Dipper over the bed, gripping tight to his waist - and winks. “I’d have way more fun playing with a drowned rat.”

“Asshole,” Dipper says, and kisses him.

Bill returns it with enthusiasm. More than a bit of groping. A slow lean over, that Dipper lets happen until he’s nearly horizontal, only his grip on Bill’s shirt keeping him upright. 

Part of him feels warm, and good. Another wants to push Bill on the bed, but mostly he’s amused, because Bill messed up. 

He went and admitted something. 

“You can’t take it back now, Bill.” Dipper sits down on the bed, escaping Bill’s grasp. Albeit temporarily. As Bill pouts over his temporary loss of prey, Dipper smiles, and jerks a thumb at himself, “You think I’m fun.”

“Eh, I’ve met worse.” Bill takes a hold of Dipper’s shoulders, slowly eyeing him up and down. “If I knew how fun you were gonna turn out in bed, I woulda kept you all to myself.” He kisses Dipper once, then moves onto his cheek, and his neck, leaning him further onto the bed. “Shoulda taken you back home and never let you leave.”

“So. Kidnapping, basically.” Dipper braces his elbows on the bed, letting Bill work over his neck, then his shoulder - then grimaces. “That… would have been a disaster.”

If Bill pulled that, Dipper would have been too alarmed to respond the way Bill wanted. Taken away from his home to a strange place. By a total stranger, with unknown motives. Not to mention how Bill back then was… not the worst about bedroom things, but he was still a major asshole. Between Bill’s brash confidence and Dipper’s paranoid anxiety, that entire thing would have been -

“See, this is why playing doctor didn't work out, Mr. ‘I need to see your medical license’.” Bill smacks Dipper’s hip twice. It pulls him back into the moment. Bill raises an eyebrow. “It’s a game, sapling. Don’t take it so seriously.”

Damn it, he has a point. Roleplay always falls apart once Dipper starts picking at it; it doesn’t kill the mood, exactly. But it rarely works as intended.

Dipper wants this to continue. He wants to have fun, he wants to have sex, and Bill’s ideas are usually good in that regard -

Screw it, it is just a game. No reason to make it too complicated.

In essence, it’s pretty standard ‘ravishing by a demon’, and they’ve done that before. This time it’s with a distinct twist, one he hasn’t considered -  Dipper glances down at himself -  and his traitorous dick is responding. 

He wonders if he should have brought the collar. But technically speaking, if he was just kidnapped he wouldn’t have that yet. That’d be something Bill would give him later on, after -  

Also, he might be overthinking again. 

Maybe he should stop doing that.

 “Alright, I’m into it.” Dipper admits. He spreads his arms wide with a shrug.  “Have at me.”

“Great!” Bill beams, clapping his hands together. “Then let’s get our party started.”

And without warning, Bill hauls him up, lifts him bodily and chucks him onto the mattress. Dipper bounces in place, getting his bearings as Bill eases his way onto the bed. And over him.

“Glad to have you here, Pine Tree.” Bill leans in, bearing an ominous smile and too many levels of smug to unravel. He has more presence than he deserves. “You didn’t make that easy.”

“Why would I?” Dipper says, keeping his voice level. Slipping into the role is easy; and glaring is practically a habit. “You kidnapped me.”

“Chin up, sapling.” Bill says with a smile. Taking Dipper’s chin in hand, he tilts him up to meet his eye. “You’re really gonna like what’s in store.”

“Cipher,” Dipper hisses, gripping the sheets tight. He scrambles back on the bed, slow enough to let Bill follow at a crawl. “Whatever you’re planning, you won’t get away with it.”

“Is that so?” Bill raises an eyebrow. Eying Dipper, up and down with a slowly growing smirk. “You’re a little underdressed for thwarting, kid.”

Dipper jerks back, indignant. “You stole my clothes.” 

The accusation in his voice isn’t entirely feigned. The dresser was gone when he came back from his bath, damn it. He should have noticed. He tries to haul the sheets up around himself, but their mutual weight stops him. 

“Surprise!” Bill says delightedly. He wiggles his fingers at Dipper, sitting up on his knees.  “I’ve had my eye on you for a while.”

Dipper manages to turn his laugh into a grunt, close-lipped.

“What do you want from me?” He presses his back against the headboard. Retreating was useless - Bill only needs to lean in and he’s caged in by his arms.

“Hm. Decent brains, interesting body - way more into demons than you’d admit,” Bill says, nonchalant. One hand presses Dipper’s hip down firmly, holding him still. A thumb traces over his skin, a short distance away from his rising cock. “And packed chock full of lust.”

“That’s not an answer.” Dipper’s face is red now. He braces his arms against the wood behind him. “I’m not -” But that’s visibly a lie - “I mean. What does lust have to do with-”

“Oh, you and I are gonna do some things!” Bill’s thumb slides over the soft skin on the inside of his thigh. The other hand rises, and snaps its fingers. “Lots of things.”

Sudden, rapid thumping makes Dipper nearly jump off the bed, as a shower of ropes, sex toys, and other lewd accoutrement plummet out of nowhere. 

A dildo poings off his thigh, and something rubbery bounces off the mattress and rolls off the side. There’s a scatter of ropes at the foot of the mattress, while leather manacles manifest on the headboard. 

Dipper gives all of it a cursory look. Then another, more cynical one at his idiot husband.

“Pretty much all of these things.” Bill says, with no shame whatsoever. He grins down at Dipper like he’s about to unwrap a present. “Along with everything else I can think of!”

“Now I get it.” Now Dipper’s glaring in earnest. A few things would make sense, fine. This is just overkill. “You’re a pervert.”

“Takes one to know one!” Bill grabs Dipper’s shoulders and pulls, startlingly fast. Dipper’s head thumps softly against the pillow. His legs are spread around Bill now, and there’s a palm planted on the center of his collarbone. “Glad you could join me.”

Dipper grabs onto Bill’s wrist with both hands, squirming under the weight. He tugs, but not hard. “Why would I sleep with you?”

“To have the most fun of your life, duh.” Bill says magnanimously. He looms over him, pressure building on Dipper’s chest from his weight. Bill grins down at him, teeth bared in a vicious smile.  “We’re gonna have a great time together.”

Dipper shuts his eyes. 

With Bill over him like this, dangerous, half-feral, and smug - that sends a tremor through him, going right to his dick.

“See? I knew you’d like this, sapling.” Bill beams, and takes Dipper’s cock in his hand. Not firmly, just… touching. Hot enough to be tempting, loose enough to make Dipper want more of it.. “I’ve seen your dreams.”

“You-” Dipper can’t think of much to say. He lets go of Bill’s wrist, holds onto his arm instead. There’s a retort, somewhere. Except Bill knows how to touch him, and he’s stroking in earnest now, moving faster, holding tighter- “Damn it.”

“You’re real interested in demons. A downright obsession, some might say.” Bill’s voice is low in Dipper’s ear. He nips at it once, thumb spreading wetness over the head of Dipper’s dick. He rolls it around, listens to the groan - and chuckles. “Imagination doesn’t compare to the real thing, does it?”

God, Bill’s warm, and he’s talking, the bastard. That’s never good for Dipper’s stamina. Even worse, Bill slows down, staying firm enough to make him - Dipper pushes his hips up into Bill’s circling fingers-  “Ah.”

“Feels good, I know!”  Bill starts chuckling. He squeezes again, smacking Dipper’s thigh, just near his butt. “And there’s more where that came from.”

Dipper clamps his mouth shut. Adding a palm over it, for extra coverage. Another sound escapes, softer this time. He grits his teeth and turns his head, he can’t watch if he wants to last longer.  “You’re - too much.” 

“Oh, please. We’ve barely gotten started! You don’t know what you’re really in for.” Bill says with pleased fondness. He lets go suddenly - Dipper tries to chase his hand for a second, then balls his fists in the sheets. Bill’s sudden grin is feral, and smug.  “Lemme give you another taste.”

Dipper props himself up on his elbows. watching Bill duck down. Starting to plant kisses down his stomach, tongue trailing over his skin. He’s-

Dipper swallows, he tenses his thighs. Bracing for the inevitable.“Oh god.”

If Bill’s hand is unfair, his mouth is worse. He doesn’t give Dipper a break, just sucks him in. Too hot, extremely wet, with tongue sliding up the underside of his dick that takes Dipper’s breath away.

“That’s-” The groan Dipper lets out is wholly his own. “Fuck you, that’s not.” He needs to take time to breathe, going tense. He slides fingers into Bill’s hair, feeling them shake on his scalp. “That’s not fair.”

Bill hums a laugh - the vibration makes Dipper’s mind go blissfully blank - then reaches up. Dipper already has a loose hold on his hair, but Bill tugs his hand closer. 

“God.” The prompt is obvious. That's what Bill wants - and Dipper sits up. Bill’s tough, he can handle anything, including Dipper. He wants him to fuck his mouth, to pull his hair - a little pain, Bill loves that - and when he does, Bill lets out a moan that would be obscene in any context.

Dipper curls around Bill, gripping tight in his hair, pulling him down sharply and eyes rolling back as Bill just. Takes it. It’s heat and wet and good, it’s been too long, Bill’s firm tongue working clever designs on his dick as he rises back up -

And pulls away, the asshole. He watches Dipper whine, dick hard and red and needy - and merely laughs.

“How many times have you jerked off thinking about that?” Bill asks, grinning. Dipper feels heat rush to his face - “Been a while, huh?” Bill takes his cock in hand again, starting to stroke, slow and lazy and absolutely not helping the heat Dipper feels, in his chest and in his groin - “Don’t worry, kid! It’s gonna be way better with me helping out.”

Which is right, but only because Bill already knows which buttons to press. Where to touch. He never shuts up and he knows what  ideas will make Dipper think too much. 

Dipper shudders. He hasn’t been touched in a while, and this is helping in ways he didn’t realize. Bill shouldn’t leave him like this, and he really wouldn’t if given the chance, doing all kinds of things to him. Like this tight grip, this surge inside him, building to -

“Wait.” He fumbles, gripping tighter on Bill’s shirt, breathing faster now. Feeling himself twitch, the heat rising in his groin, quicker than he wanted. “Wait. I’m-”

“You don’t even have words for the ways I’m gonna make you come,” Bill’s voice is a low purr in his ear, tight pressure on his dick, Bill never stops talking, it does horrible things to Dipper’s imagination - “Not stopping ‘till you’re a completely fucked out wreck.”

He would, he will - he’d make Dipper take his fingers and his cock, he’d touch him everywhere, until he -

Swears. Dipper arches up, gasping, coming in Bill’s hand, grabbing at his shirt, at his shoulders. Bill grins wide, palm cupped over his cock, catching his release. 

He’s still chuckling to himself as Dipper drops back against the mattress. Blinking, slowly, at the ceiling.

Okay. 

Not… the longest Dipper’s lasted. But it has been a while. 

Bill hums a low, pleased tune, kissing Dipper on the temple, then the cheek. He leans back a bit - then cocks his head to the side as he looks at his palm.

“Seriously, though - you were really pent up.” Bill raises an eyebrow, breaking character for a moment. He examines the results with amusement, then takes a quick lick before wiping his hand on the sheets. “You shoulda said something.”

Dipper sighs. This jackass. “I was trying to.”

A light clicks on in Bill’s head. He sits up, suddenly alert. Eye darting around, thoughts racing - and he looks back down at Dipper.

Dipper doesn’t meet that golden gaze. He clears his throat, covering his eyes with his arm. Suddenly he’s embarrassed. 

Bill’s not stupid. He noticed Dipper’s attempts; he could hardly miss the obvious. None of them were normal to begin with. They probably weren’t that common for demons, come to think of it - and zero of them are things Dipper would come up with on his own.

“Pretty strange approach you took there,” says Bill, patting Dipper’s thigh. He tilts his head to the side curiously, and his eye narrows. “What put those ideas in your head?” There’s a very tiny, miniscule amount of tension in the question. Dipper thunks his head against the pillow, rolling his eyes. 

Bill’s probing at something most people wouldn’t consider. But spend enough time in a demon realm, and well - Bill’s not entirely wrong to worry that Dipper might have been messed with. It’s just…

Dipper sighs. He knows what the reaction will be. But. He should say it now, too, before Bill gets the wrong idea. 

“Um,” He says. Tapping two fingers together, and offering an awkward smile. “Demon Cosmopolitan.”

Bill blinks for a moment. 

"Shut it." Dipper says. Already pre-annoyed.

“Mh.” Bill’s lips are pressed tightly together. “Mhm.” Amusement scrunching up his face, clearly holding back. He lets out a loud ‘pfffft’, shoulders rising.

“Demon dating advice sucks,” Dipper insists. 

Bill’s amusement is irrepressible. Even though he nearly chokes holding it back, it breaks through - and he starts laughing outright. 

Dipper swats at him, not very hard. He has to admit it wasn’t his greatest move.

“I can see it already!” Bill rolls off him, raising his arms in the air. “You doing your ‘research’!” He sterns his expression, a mimicry of Dipper’s - though his thinking face isn’t that dumb looking - and clicks an invisible pen. Nodding to himself, very seriously. “Gotta take notes on this copy of Playbaal.”

“It’s not that funny,” Dipper mutters. Not that it stops Bill. He straddles this jerk instead, and thumps him on the chest.

Another note to make - burn the notebook before Bill finds it.

Bill’s always too pleased with himself, including his own jokes. His dumb, shitty quote-unquote 'impression' has amused him to the point where he’s lying back, arms over his chest. Cackling at his own cleverness. 

Accurate or not - which it wasn’t - it’s still really goddamn stupid.

Dipper rolls his eyes, feeling Bill’s stomach bounce with laughter under the palm of his hand. No point in protesting. Let him have his fun. 

Still annoying though. 

Bill himself looks pretty stupid, anyway. Splayed out on the mattress like that. His shirt half-undone, his hair slightly mussed. An obvious tent in his pants. 

…Clearly distracted. 

Dipper looks around at the toys strewn on the mattress. At the headboard, and Bill’s arms. 

Now a thought’s brewing, in his own head. A tempting one.

Not that long ago, Bill started proposing new ideas. Dipper hasn’t had too many himself, he’s less experienced in this area. And while Bill makes bedroom stuff easy, as much as he can, Dipper’s still… awkward in general. 

Even so -  Inexperienced or not -  He'd be an idiot to miss this opportunity.

Dipper crawls over his idiot husband, sitting down on his stomach with aplomb. Bill perks up, even as a bit of breath huffs out from the impact. He also raises his arms to get them out of Dipper’s way, which is perfect.

Dipper lets his fingers trail up one of them, lifting it by the wrist - 

Where some experience comes in handy. 

If he hadn’t been on the other side of this before, he wouldn’t know how to do it so quickly. 

“Hello there,” Bill says, grinning wider now. He glances down at Dipper’s hips, so close to his face now. “Nice to see ya.” 

“Uh huh.” Dipper’s trying for subtlety, he doesn’t have a witty retort. He’s busy sliding fingers up Bill’s other bicep. 

Said subtlety instantly fails, as Bill tries to grab his butt, only to be held up with a jolt. His eye goes wide, he snarls and yanks again, torso jerking upwards with his sudden surge. He nearly rises off the mattress, even with Dipper sitting on top of him.

Dipper tightens his legs, keeping himself steady. Blinking in surprise. 

Bill nearly bucked him completely off, which is. Not… really the reaction he expected. The second arm is free, and it’s gripping Dipper’s thigh, tight - 

While Bill’s dominant hand is neatly tucked into the leather manacle. 

After a second, Bill tilts his head back. Tugs his arm a few times, almost testingly - then looks up at Dipper with surprise. 

“What?” Dipper asks. They’ve done… stuff before. He didn’t expect that much of a reaction.

“Huh.” Bill says, calmer now. Then, frowning slightly. “Huh.”

“What?” 

“Huh.” Bill says again, with the usual amount of helpfulness. Looking less annoyed, and more contemplative. He purses his lips, tapping the manacle thoughtfully. “Gotta say that’s a first.”

Oh.

All of the awkwardness Dipper was repressing surges back to the forefront. 

Okay, that’s. He didn’t - well maybe he did think - was he thinking at all, holy shit - 

“Um.” Dipper hesitates. What does he do now, besides lean over to touch Bill’s forearm.  “Is this-” 

Somewhere in the sheets, Bill’s phone starts ringing again. 

Bill lets out a disgusted groan, thunking his head against the pillow. Dipper starts scowling.

Bill twists one way, then another, looking for the source, while Dipper feels around for the damn thing without giving up his seat, fumbling in the silk. He finds it half-under Bill’s back, just next to his knee. 

Dipper fishes the phone up, and glares at it. Ringing, incessantly, with the same stupid ringtone. Likely it’s important. Something going wrong, or going right. Another demonic thing that’s demanding Bill’s attention. 

They don’t know they have competition.

Dipper picks up the call, tucking the phone against his ear. He feels Bill take in a sharp breath under him. 

“Fuck off.” Dipper says in clipped tones, before the being on the other end can say anything. He glares down at Bill, squeezing his chest between his legs. Almost daring him to interject. “He’s busy.” 

There’s a sound on the other end of the call - but Dipper’s already hung up, and thrown the stupid phone right to the floor.

Underneath him, Bill’s eye goes wide, blinking fast. It also starts glowing bright gold.

Dipper runs a hand through his hair, and tries not to feel awkward about that. 

He isn’t really… Being forceful isn’t how he usually goes about things. But they’ve had enough interruptions from that godawful party already, and this one felt all too personal.

Bill shifts suddenly in place. Enough that Dipper has to steady himself, jolting back to the present.

Shit. Right, he’s got to get back to Bill. Who’s -

No longer thinking, apparently. He’s come to a decision with his usual speed. Bill’s propped his other wrist against the empty manacle. Hell, he’s halfway slid it into the thing, waiting for the clasp to be shut.

He’s also wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

Dipper snorts in amusement, and says, “Okay.” 

He leans forward again. There’s an odd flutter inside as he sets Bill’s other wrist in the manacle. As he sets the clasp, and tightens it. Fiddling with the leather is a decent excuse not to see the results, just yet. 

Bill gives it an experimental tug, face changing as he thinks - then shrugs, and relaxes back on the bed. Humming a little tune to himself.

Dipper sits back. He swallows, though his mouth feels dry. 

Right. 

There’s Bill, underneath him. That body, warm muscle shifting against his thighs as Bill gets comfortable. A heartbeat, if Dipper presses a palm against his chest. His arms flex in the restraints, muscles tensing and shifting around before they relax again. 

He’s… Not, exactly, at Dipper’s mercy, because Bill’s too strong, he could break out - hell, he made those restraints, they don’t have to exist, he could escape at any time -  But.

Dipper licks his lips. Normally he’s good with ideas. It’s not working right now. 

Bill. Held back for once. Powerful, impossible, insane - and lying there on the bed, grinning at Dipper. Waiting for him. That hat half-opened shirt exposing his chest, like an invitation to explore. 

When Bill Cipher is.. is  trapped like this, Dipper’s free to touch him wherever he wants. Or - or not touch him, if he wants, or only at the right moments, teasing until he’s the one shaking with sensation for once. Dipper could do pretty much anything, and Bill’s looking up at him, head slightly tilted to the side, like he expects him to- 

“Um.” Dipper sits in place, blinking, at a loss. It’s like his brain has short-circuited, repeating the same thoughts in a circle.

After a second, Bill shrugs. “Well, well, well. Guess my new pet has a couple of tricks up his sleeve.” He lies back on the bed, nonchalant. He tilts his head back to examine his nails, since his hands are raised over his head. “What do you think this little stunt is going to accomplish?”

Dipper narrows his eyes.

 If that’s the game, then…

“Who’s captured who now, Cipher?” He jabs a thumb at himself, starting to smile again. He shifts back, settling down on Bill’s thighs. “Guess I was smarter than you thought.”

“If you were real smart you’d be running.” His sneer belies the tent in his pants, hips shifting up as Dipper moves closer. “You know what happens to mortals who try to bind demons?”

Dangerous, always. Deadly, usually. If there’s even one fault in the binding. Even the  slightest mistake - and the demon bursts free, able to wreak whatever havoc they like - usually on the hapless mortal who tried to keep them bound. 

In this case, Dipper’s feeling very reckless. 

“I’m not running away from all the secrets of the universe,” Dipper says. He feels oddly light inside, excitement building as he starts to undo the rest of Bill’s shirt. Fumbling, slightly, his fingers are uncoordinated. “You’re gonna tell me everything.”

“Ha! You’ve got no leverage, kid. Nothing to offer, no way to convince - and you don’t seem like the torturing type to me.” Bill eyes his progress, mouth quirked up with amusement. “Watch the fabric, that’s expensive.”

“Oh, I can make you talk..” Dipper rips the rest of his shirt open. The last couple buttons bounce off into the room, and Dipper slides his hands up that chest, down again to Bill’s stomach. It’s all smooth skin, hot to the touch - “The hard part is getting you to shut up.”

Bill lets out a sharp laugh. Being an asshole doesn’t mean he’s not self-aware. Dipper forces a smile off his own face. 

When Dipper undoes Bill’s belt, he chuckles. When Dipper tugs the pants down, underwear and all, he lifts his hips to let them slide off. Bill even kicks the fabric off his legs, too, which is helpful; Dipper didn’t want to fiddle with that part. 

It leaves Bill naked, except for the still-opened shirt. Fully hard, cock resting on his stomach; still grinning, and still impenetrably smug. 

Dipper narrows his eyes, trying to keep his face stern. Squeezing Bill’s thigh, and feeling the muscle jump under his palm. 

“I get it.” He says, shifting lower. His hands stroke the inside of Bill’s thighs, up his hips. “The great Bill Cipher thinks he can resist anything.”

“Sure can!” Bill grins, head rising to track Dipper’s descent. He shifts his legs apart, making it easy to kneel between them. “I can’t imagine you’ve got anything in stor-”

Dipper ignores him. He keeps his eyes on Bill, tongue flickering out. A quick, wet thing, licking against his length..

“Nh.” Bill grunts. Eye fluttering shut, he swallows visibly. "Taking a new tactic, huh.” The smirk returns, sharper now. “That's hardly fair!"

“All's fair in lust and war.” Dipper recites the old demonic phrase. He pulls Bill’s cock upright, watching him suck in a breath - and smiles. “You're going to do what I want."

“You can try,” Bill purrs. His teeth are bared in his wide, pleased smile. “Do your worst.”

Taking Bill in his mouth is a guilty pleasure. Not that he should feel guilty, as Bill’s often repeated, with great enthusiasm - but Dipper groans as he takes Bill in, hand gripping the base of his cock. 

It’s hot and hard, twitching again as Dipper idly rolls his tongue around. He opens up, mouth drawing in the thick length of him, cheeks hollowing out. Bill lasts a whole ten seconds before his hips rock up into it; a couple quick jerks. Soon he’s trying to fuck into his mouth, bracing a foot on the mattress, knee raised.

Dipper pulls back and plants a kiss on the head. Underneath him, Bill swears and his hips hit the mattress with a thump. He’s slightly pink in the face, arms tense and eye shut. 

Teasing. Taunting. Downright tormenting - now he sees what Bill sees in this.

The appeal.

He licks his lips as he draws back, to see Bill’s cock jump in place, a muscle in his thigh twitch rapidly - then taking it back in, groaning around Bill’s cock as his hips make short, desperate motions..

Bill wants to fuck his mouth, he needs to feel more - he can take it, he’s immortal, but Dipper can too, he’s good at this -  undulating his tongue on the underside as Bill hits the back of his throat, and hearing a loud, breathless swear.

Bill might be all-knowing, all-powerful, and all-too-put together in most situations. 

He’s not now.

Instead, he’s swearing, low. Repeating and the same word, over and over again. His face is flushed and his chest heaves, rising and falling with heavy breaths. He’s starting to sweat a little, turning his head to the side, trying so hard not to admit he loves this.

There’s pleasure in seeing Bill come so undone by this. Pleasure in knowing that he’s doing this, and fuck, it is good to suck his cock, Dipper’s already getting hard again himself.

“You-” There’s a clang on the headboard as Bill tries to reach out, and gets held up. He swears again, under his breath. “Gnh.” 

Dipper draws away. But he takes it slow, drawing it out far longer than Bill did. Bobbing back down briefly, and feeling Bill try to stay in until Dipper finally lets his cock fall from between his lips, dropping wet and throbbing onto Bill’s stomach.

“Is it good?” He asks. He strokes Bill’s length a couple times, watching Bill shudder. Bill lets his head drop back on the pillow, grunting something incoherent. One of his legs is shaking in place, not quite kicking out.

“You can come in my mouth, if you want.” Dipper says, hearing Bill make a soft groan, nearly needy - but wait, right, the roleplay - “Just tell me what I want to hear.”

Bill bares his teeth. Breathing slower now, like he’s controlling it. His eye darts around under the closed lid, jaw tense. 

Dipper licks up the underside of his dick, kissing just under the head. Bill’s cock twitches again, and he keeps up his assault with no small amount of pride. 

There’s no way Bill can resist much longer. He’s already so close. 

Bill breathes in, and lets it out, shuddering and slow. He pauses for a long moment. Then, slowly, he looks up from his pillow. 

“You…” Bill starts. His tongue flicks out over his lips, and he flashes his most charming smile. “Are so goddamn good at this.”

Dipper feels a burst of embarrassed pleasure. He ducks his head a little, trying not to smile. “Um.”

There... There’s usually a retort Dipper can offer. But that wasn’t an insult. So. “Um.” He repeats, like an idiot.

Underneath him, Bill’s smile slowly, smugly widens into a full-blown grin.

“So, yeah,” Bill makes a dismissive gesture with his bound hands. “Go ahead, take your time! I could watch you sucking me off all day.” He settles down on the sheets. Acting perfectly relaxed - though his cock tells a different story. “You’re giving me enough jerk off material for eons.”

“Bastard.” Dipper’s really trying not to smile, and he knows his face is red. Even his ears feel hot by now. “You’re-” 

He stops. The protest dies before it fully forms. 

Because Dipper knows Bill. All his tells. When Bill’s bending the truth, or when saying something he doesn’t believe. When he’s straight-up lying it’s obvious, and Dipper could pinpoint a misleading phrase from a mile. 

This time, Bill’s not lying. It’s true.

All of it.

“Oh.” Dipper doesn’t have a followup. The burn of embarrassment flares in him; he must be blushing down to his chest at this point. Bill really - 

He looks down - Bill’s dick, almost straining in his hand  - but looking at his face isn’t better, Dipper tucks his cheek against one rising shoulder, face feeling hot on his own skin.

“I’ve been watching you, sapling. All the time.” Bill’s smug grin remains; he’s almost too pleased with himself, even though he’s still telling the truth - . “You have no idea how good you look. How hard you make me.” His eye trails over Dipper, and his cock twitches against his stomach.  “Every time I come, I think about how much better it would be if I had you in my bed.”

God, and he does, too. Bill’s not playing a role - or at least, not making this up. They’ve done so much together and Bill’s loved it, every moment, enough to make a mental video of them - and there’s proof of Bill’s lust, wet from Dipper’s mouth and  hard in his hand. 

Dipper doesn’t know what to say. He has Bill in one hand, himself in the other, moving a little faster now, and it’s hard to focus. He shuts his eyes, trying not to pant.

”You’ve got a great mouth on you, kid. But it looks absolutely perfect around my cock.” Bill pulls on the restraints, lifting himself up to meet Dipper’s eyes - he lowers his head, avoiding it -  “You’ve got a talent.” Bill strains to follow his gaze, headboard creaking at the pressure. His cock jumps in Dipper’s grip, grinning sharply. “Put it to use? And I’ll give you everything you want.”

Dipper had already ducked back down. It’s right there - and hell, sucking Bill’s dick is less embarrassing than listening to what he was saying. Dipper tastes him, opens for him. Feeling good, with the thick weight in his mouth, on his tongue. He holds the rest of his length with his other hand, face burning.

“That’s it.” Bill’s breathing hard, voice low. He tilts his head up, watching with his eye half-lidded = and a growing smirk. “Good boy.”

Dipper makes a noise that’s nearly a choke, a soft, gagged whimper. Good at this, he’s good - he moans. Bill tastes of skin and salt, a heavy warm weight that feels good to suck. He pulls back to the head, cheeks hollowing and tongue flickering, before swallowing him down again. 

“You- Nh.” Bill curses, tossing his head to one side. One of his legs starts jogging in place, his teeth clenched. “Gonna-”

Dipper doesn’t stop, he strokes and groans in encouragement. Feeling Bill twitch as he comes, swallowing slowly. Bill chants something low under his breath before it all melds into a low moan. Even when he’s finished, Dipper keeps going, just to watch Bill shudder under him like he’s being pleasantly electrocuted, eye rolling back in his skull.

When Dipper finally sits up, Bill’s downright dazed. Splayed out, blinking unfocused. Dipper wipes his mouth, and pats his thigh. A warm glow of pride overcomes the warmth in his cheeks.

So what if he’s got an infinite, powerful demon. Or if he’s a nerd. When it comes to this, even Bill Cipher isn’t his match.

“Ten outta ten.” Bill says, after a moment. He spent a good ten seconds blinking at the ceiling, eye unfocused. One of his hands gives a lazy thumbs up, then droops in its manacle. “A million stars. Would come back again, for eternity.” A quick smirk. “Give the server a massive tip.”

Dipper slaps his hip, just to make a point about puns. Then pauses. He’s uncomfortably hard himself, and now that he’s not distracted - Bill’s dick is flagging, but there's more than a few toys scattered over the mattress, there’s lube. Everything he could use to help himself out. He leans over - 

“No toys,” Bill snaps, and Dipper jerks to attention. He hesitates. Already his hand hovers over the lube, just next to something that’s smaller than Bill, but - 

“Aw, you’re lonely, aren’tcha?” Bill interrupts again. Starting to shake his head in mock pity. “I know what you need - and I’m better than any of those.” He glances down at own groin, a cocky grin on his face. “I could make you come without you ever touching yourself.”

God, Bill’s being oddly truthful today, and again, he’s right. He has managed that before, Dipper can feel his dick jump at the very idea of it. It’s... Intense, and rough. Feeling that demanding demon over him, around him, deep inside of him - and actually, coming on Bill’s cock sounds extremely fantastic right now.

Dipper fumbles the lube for a second, he reaches to stroke Bill into hardness again, get him ready- 

“Ah ah ah,” chides Bill. He rolls his hips to the side, dodging Dipper’s touch. “Where’s the romance?” He flutters his eyelashes, his face in a mocking pout. “You can’t even gimme a kiss first?”

Dipper nearly snorts. They’re in the middle of - Bill’s an all powerful demon. He knows so much. He controls an entire nightmare realm, and so many beings think he’s ‘cool’. Unassailable. Unflappable.

Bill Cipher is all of those things - and he says he married a nerd. Which is, okay. A fair statement. 

But It takes one to know one. 

“Fine.” Dipper moves up closer, cupping Bill’s cheek. He’s trying not to smile, and failing. “Just one, though.”

Less than two seconds later, he proves himself a liar. Kissing Bill never stops with just a peck. They spend longer than they should, tangled together. Dipper lying halfway on him, Bill rising against his restraints to meet him, and his tongue flickering into Dipper’s mouth

Dipper finally gets a hand on him, where Bill’s already halfway to attention. Spreading lube over him in slow firm strokes, feeling him harden quickly, hot under his palm. Bill’s thick length slides easily under his touch, he can feel a vague pulse through it. 

Dipper ducks his head next to Bill’s reaching behind himself. He just - needs to prepare a little, and then- he bites his lip, slipping fingers inside.

Reaching behind himself never gives him the right angle, but. Dipper tucks his chin against his chest as he works himself slowly, twisting his fingers. He hasn’t done this in a while. It’s hard to relax. He breathes slowly, controlled - maybe he needs to spread his legs more -  

Which is when Bill surges up underneath him, body arching up like a bow. “You- Don’t be a tease, kid.” The words come out in a low growl, too eager to be anything but honest. “At least turn around and let me watch.”

Dipper stops out of sheer surprise. He pauses, looking up into a wolfish grin. 

“C’mere. Sapling. You want some help? Let me give you a hand.” Bill licks his lips. He’s trying to nudge him with a hip, his cock hard again, and his eye alight. “I wanna touch you.”

Right, that would be better. Ten times better than Dipper doing it himself. Bill’s long fingers, pushing inside him - he swears under his breath, scooting upward, and it’s only as the tips of his fingers touch the manacle that he thinks enough to pause. 

Dipper looks down at Bill. Bill blinks up at him, eye full of desire - 

After a moment, Dipper glares.

The corner of Bill’s mouth quirks up, a bit wryly. “Go on, do it.” He wiggles his fingers in the restraints. Almost teasingly.  “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Dipper gives him a long, long look, before rolling his eyes. 

“Fine.” He repeats, smiling this time. “You jerk.” He undoes one of the restraints. 

The clasp opens, the leather parts. Bill stretches his arm out, raising it up front of himself with a pleased grin. Dipper moves onto the next manacle, bracing himself on Bill’s chest for balance - 

Bill yanks his other arm, hard. The chain on the headboard snaps with a sharp, metallic clink, and there’s not even time to flinch as Bill lunges up from the bed.

Dipper gasps, half a second after the fact. Much too late, at that. Already there’s a strong arm around his waist, a firm grip in his hair. Dipper didn’t think about how fast Bill can be before he was already caught. 

“You really thought you could bind me, of all demons.” Bill shakes his head with slow amusement. He pulls Dipper’s head back and to one side, exposing his neck.  “And they call me arrogant” 

“Don’t get me wrong, though,” Bill continues, beaming. Starting to nose against that exposed skin, pressing his lips against Dipper’s rapid pulse. Dipper grits his teeth, letting out a soft grunt. He scrambles for purchase on Bill’s shoulders. “It’s adorable.”

“I-” Dipper cuts himself off. Bill’s just licked his neck. Then his ear, teeth grazing against the lobe - now he’s kissing just behind it. “That’s-!” Then. Teeth, on his neck, a mouth on his skin - DIpper swears, and clasps a hand on Bill’s neck in return - “Not fair.”

Bill laughs against Dipper’s shoulder. “All’s fair in lust and war!” He starts trailing kisses up the shoulder, to his neck. “Get used to it.” His mouth sucks in the soft skin  tongue flicking over it and absolutely leaving a hickey. Marking him up. 

There’s a strong, searching hand between Dipper’s legs, sliding up the back of his thigh. But even when he does struggle, he can’t pull away. Bill’s all over him, surrounding him. Making him his. He’s been captured, there’s no escaping his attention - 

Dipper shuts his eyes. He shuffles his knees further apart. 

“You could have run, but no! That’s not what you wanted.” Bill slides slick fingers inside him, deeper than Dipper could reach - right there. They spread him open, then press together, then flex - pleasure bursts inside him, god it’s been too long - “You wanted this.”

Dipper shakes his head, but that’s pointless. And obviously a lie; Bill grins as he continues. “You wanted to get fucked. But you’re a skeptic, I get it.” The way he splays his fingers makes Dipper ache, in a good way, he digs his nails into Bill’s back - “You just needed a trial run, first!”

Part of Dipper wants to say that it’s a logical move. That if you’re going to be someone’s… If it’s going to be a sex thing, you should find out if -  

Then overthinking takes a backseat, Dipper’s mouth shutting with a click as Bill keeps pressing. Because Bill, the bastard, has clever hands, and a cleverer mind for angles, and his fingers are pushing in so deep. He barely hears Bill asking, “How’dya like it so far?”

“‘S good. Yeah.” The words fall senseless from Dipper’s lips. Very good. He was right, perfectly so, he made absolutely the right choice. When Bill curls his fingers there’s a bright spark, and Dipper pushes into that point of pleasure, grabbing at the back of Bill’s neck, at his shoulders, fumbling in sudden desperation. “More. Please.”

“In a minute.” Bill’s hand never stops, fingers sliding in and out. Avoiding the hitting quite right, now, the bastard - Dipper can feel his breathing pick up, hot on his shoulder. The leather of the manacle is still around Bill’s wrist, cool on Dipper’s skin. “You’re so tight.”  

Dipper tugs at him, trying to draw him in. It doesn’t work, even if he really pulls - until Bill finally caves, sliding his fingers out. “And demanding.” He eases Dipper back then, pushing him down on the bed. “I picked exactly the right mortal.”

Dipper tries to get comfortable on the sheets - but Bill hauls him in by his hips. He’s kneeling, which leaves Dipper’s legs splayed over his own. Bill’s cock bobs obscenely over Dipper’s, a rude comparison. “You sure you want this?”

Dipper flips him off. This jerk. Like he can’t see how much he wants it, it’s right there. He’s been hard for a while, extremely so, even now his dick taps on his stomach with urgency, jerking at the very thought of Bill inside him. Bill’s just being a tease. 

He nods, anyway, just to move things along. 

“Alright, kid. You got this.” Bill shifts up slightly, a smile in his voice. He holds onto Dipper’s hip, starting to guide the thick tip of his cock inside. “You can-” The blunt head of it slips inside, Dipper can see Bill pushing in and feel it, hot pressure entering. “Take all of it.”

Which Dipper’s done before. He’s ready for it. It’s thick and hot as always, but with this angle it’s - Dipper feels his toes curl, he tosses his head back with a whine -  Just right. “Yeah.”

“That’s a good boy,” Bill purrs, thrusting shallow, a quick in-and-out, easing himself deeper, a long stroke following -  “All mine. My perfect little pet. ” Each word emphasized with another thrust, another push deeper, more firm pressure inside that leaves Dipper breathless. The last bit of chain from the manacle is chill against his hip. “My personal plaything.”

Dipper shoves a hand over his face, whining a protest. He’s - he’s not a - that. But he is, a little. He wants Bill to ‘play’ with him, a lot. He’s wanted it for a while, and now he has it, Bill’s totally inside him, hot and thick. Taking his time, not really fucking him like he could, and Dipper wants more so much he could almost - “Ah.”

“Now that. Is a fantastic look for you.” Bill’s voice is nearly a growl, his grin truly feral. He tugs Dipper closer, shifting up on his knees as he sets a quicker pace. “I could look at that face all day. Or night, as it were.” He draws back slightly, running his thumb around where they’re joined, eye glowing bright. “Or just at you stretched out around me.”

Dipper nods again, helplessly. He can feel it, like it’s bigger than usual, but whether it’s the angle or the time he’s spent alone, he can’t tell. There’s a hot burst of pleasure each time Bill fucks into him; he’s sweating and the  sheets getting damp under his back, and in his hands. Holding on tight, and trying to hook his legs around Bill.

“Gonna have you over and over again.” Bill mutters. He's urgently pulling Dipper closer, leaning forward as he rises up slightly. “And you’ll love it.”  In this position his cock sends stars swimming into Dipper’s vision, it's so much. His legs are tense, and they’re starting to shake. “Every time I fuck you. Every time I come inside you.”

Damn it, Bill keeps talking; he never stops when he should -  All things Dipper can picture in his mind, clear as if it were a dream. He wouldn't have to get Bill’s attention, Bill would be all over him, Dipper would be naked and ashamed and attended to. Whenever he wanted, Bill would be touching him. Kissing his neck, and his chest, shoving him down and fucking him like this, leaving Dipper shaking and waiting until he did it again, getting fucked and touched and adored - 

“Use you whenever I want.” Bill rises up to his knees, holding Dipper fully by his hips with unnaturally strong hands, fucking into him rough and urgent. “Let you wait for me, naked in my bed, with all that cum inside you. Touching yourself. “ Bill leans in, teeth bared, breathing hard. He squeezes tight enough to bruise - “Until I bend you over and fill you up again.”

The steady pound of Bill’s cock is building up pleasure too quickly; Dipper can feel it deep in him, ready to make good on his words; every time Bill fucks into him a bead of clear precome drips from his cock, Dipper’s so close he aches -  “‘M gonna come.” Dipper blurts, holding onto the sheets, tight. Back arches, nearly whimpering- “Gonna come, please.” 

“Sexy little mind. Cute goddamned body. Too eager.” Bill hisses the words out, keeping a steady, near-violent pace, his skin shining with sweat. “Too cute.” He yanks Dipper in tight, arms shaking slightly, and Dipper can feel his cock twitch inside, the added pressure makes him groan -  “Everything I wanted.” Bill pants, teeth bared as his eye flutters shut, pressing their hips together.  “Fuck, I love you.” 

Dipper comes with a sharp, sweet shock, gripping at the sheets, mouthing at the air. Bill holds him close, hips jerking  in place, balls deep, pulsing inside him.

Bill squeezes him a little tighter, dropping back onto his seated position. Dipper collapses, boneless from his orgasm - and relieved at the lack of strain on his back. He can feel Bill pulsing inside, hips still jerking faintly in the last few motions.

Dipper lets his head drop back. Trying to catch his breath. Bill stills in place, breathing slower. Eye shut. Until he eventually sighs. He pulls back and away, only to drop on top of Dipper, cheek resting on his chest. 

After a moment, Dipper reaches up to card his fingers through Bill’s hair. 

Sleeping with Bill is always… interesting. In one way or another Over time he’s been introduced to things he thought were only on the internet, not something people actually did. Hearing Bill say something vaguely normal is strange. 

And nice.

They lie there for a bit. Spending time in a calm post-sex daze, comfortable and dozy. Bill raises  his arm, and Dipper obligingly unlatches the broken manacle, letting it drop. 

With a sigh, Bill turns his head. Finally, totally relaxed, humming in contentment against Dipper’s chest. Dipper keeps petting him idly. Still thinking. Maybe too much, but he’s never going to not.

Even if it was said during sex… there should be a response. Right? If anything, it’s one of the few times he doesn’t have to feel awkward saying it out loud.

“Love you too.” Dipper leans up, planting a quick kiss on Bill’s head, before dropping back. He hugs his idiot demon a little tighter.

Bill makes a low, pleased sound, getting comfortable - then suddenly jerks in place. His head doesn’t rise, but Dipper feels him go tense. 

“Ahem. Cute, kid. But you musta misheard me.” Bill clears his throat without looking up. And raises a finger, wagging it. “I said I love fucking you.”

“Uh huh.” Lies, again. Weird one for him to pull, though. Bill doesn't say that sort of thing often, but he’s never outright denied it before. “Sure.”

Dipper keeps running his hand through Bill’s hair, ruffling it slightly. Bill lets out an annoyed grunt, but doesn’t move, face planted on Dipper’s chest. For some reason the tips of his ears are pink. 

But. Wait. 

Demons do things backwards.

Hell, Dipper’s just read more articles than he’d admit about this exact topic. He should have figured. Though he was… distracted. When it happened.

“Well. If you had said something that kinky,” Dipper continues, feeling Bill mouth a swear against his skin. He thunks his forehead against his human pillow, and Dipper starts to smile. “I would’ve been really into it.”

Bill looks up. Eye narrowing.

Watching his expression turn from annoyed to conflicted is the third best thing that’s happened today.

“Kind of a shame,” Dipper adds, dropping his hands to his sides. He shrugs, then tucks his arms behind his head. “I should have guessed you wouldn’t be that sexy.”

“Hey!” 

A brief tussle ensues. Not a fight, and not quite a wrestle. Mostly, it’s Bill jostling Dipper around and Dipper fending him off, neither with much force. He gets two sharp nips on his ear, then gentle teeth on his shoulder. Bill worries the flesh for a moment - a token gesture - before rolling off Dipper with a satisfied grunt.

Dipper follows, throwing an arm over his demon. And when he cuddles up against Bill’s side, he feels Bill adjust to meet him. 

Bill lets out a pleased sigh  Relaxed, for once. Settling into that lazy, post-sex lassitude that Dipper only sees on rare occasions. Radiating smugness, too; he’s obviously congratulating himself. Dipper could see that in his face from a mile away. 

Dipper narrows his eyes. It’s nice when Bill’s calm - but he’s also telling himself he's the greatest, cleverest, most superlative demon ever. That gets annoying.

He’s proven correct moments later, when Bill starts to chuckle. 

“I can’t believe you thought you needed advice to seduce me.” Bill says. He shakes his head, almost incredulous. There’s a fond grin on his face. “I married a moron.”

The buried complement is in one of its shallowest graves yet. Dipper narrows his eyes. He would hit him with a pillow, but he’s using Bill for that right now. So he won’t.

“Fine.” He pats Bill’s chest instead. Feeling warm, and pretty relaxed himself. “Next time I won’t let you leave.”

“Go ahead.” 

“I’ll interrupt everything,” Dipper insists. He props himself up on one elbow, glaring without any heat at Bill’s stupid handsome face. “You’ll never get any plans done.” 

A smirk, and a lazy shrug. Bill even rolls his eye, grinning wider. “Hey, you can try.”

“You asked for it, Bill Cipher” Dipper’s smiling now. He rolls on top of his idiot demon, cupping his face, shaking it in his grasp just to watch Bill get grumpy. “Prepare to be bored senseless, hanging out with some human all the time.”

“Pfft, hardly!” Bill waves that off like it’s not even an issue. He also grabs Dipper’s butt. “You’ll never manage it.”

Hearing Bill practically perform necromancy on the usually buried compliments is - The only retort there is kissing him stupid. As always it disarms him; a demon, easily subdued. An idiot, who thinks just because his tongue is in Dipper’s mouth that he’s won.

All demons are stupid in the ways of romance. Research alone has proven that. And… real life has kind of proven that Dipper’s… not the greatest either. 

Too bad for, Bill, though. Infinite knowledge, insane power. And stupid, and overlooking things. A gossip and a nerd. He admitted it already - too easily seduced, if you’re the right person. 

It’s too late for Bill to win this one. He’s already met his match. 

“Leave the gossip rags outta the bedroom, sapling.They’re made by idiots, for idiots. Terrible advice, all round.” Bill adds, once they’ve parted again again. He walks his fingers up Dipper’s back, running a hand over the back of his neck - then makes a face, as a thought strikes him. “I’m just glad you didn’t try the starfruit thing.”

Dipper…. Probably shouldn’t ask. If Bill thinks it’s bad, who knows what it looks like to a mortal.  But hell, he’s always curious. Dipper sits up. “Sorry, the what thing?”

“Oh man, I gotta show you!” Bill perks up. He shuffles into a seated position, leaning against the headboard. One snap of the fingers, and magazine blinks into existence on his lap. “It’s horrible.”

 Dipper scoots up and over, resting his head on Bill’s shoulder. Watching, as he flips to the advice column.

Turns out Bill has collected more than a few issues himself. Not for advice, but out of sheer amusement. 

If Dipper thought humans gave each other bad advice, holy shit. He’s amazed he got anything useful from his own research. For every drop of decent advice, the rest are insane by any standard. Demons have to be actively fucking each other over, they can’t truly believe any of this crap. 

Most of the time, Dipper bickers with his husband, while Bill finds points to argue right back. It’s more fun than Dipper will ever say out loud, and Bill enjoys it immensely. 

This time, they’re sitting together. Bill nudging him to read another article, and Dipper pointing out how bad demonic advice is about humans. There’s more than a few magazines, and they comb over every single awful inch of them.

Reading how dumb and wrong other beings are. How they’re ridiculous and stupid and terrible - it’s another contest, kind of. Bill’s creative with his wordplay, mocking every single aspect. Dipper, though, has more pointed insights, and one of them makes Bill laugh so hard he nearly chokes on his own spit.

It’s different. It’s new. 

And it’s fun.

Spending time with Bill is both unusual, and insane. It defies all natural laws, every legal one, and common sense is completely tossed out the window. Demons would think half their dates are boring. Humans would think the rest are insane.

For once, Bill had the right sentiment when it came to other people.. 

‘Screw ‘em’, is pretty good advice.

“Y’know, I had a centerfold in onna these things a couple centuries ago.” Bill admits, on the fifth issue. He taps his chin thoughtfully. “Can’t recall which one, though.”

“I bet it was awful,” Dipper lies. He hopes the corner of glossy paper hanging out from under his mattress won't be too obvious. “You’re the worst.”

“I am,” Bill says, with the usual amount of pride. His chest puffs out a little, he raises his chin.

Dipper takes Bill’s hand in his own, squeezing tight. “You are.”

Fuck it. They don’t have to make sense to anyone else. Bill’s incomprehensible to nearly everyone as it is, and Dipper barely understands himself half the time - 

But the more time they spend together, the more they get each other.

And it’s never, ever boring.

Bill beams at him, pulling Dipper in for a kiss. Before he has a chance to take charge, Dipper puts his tongue in Bill’s mouth first. Another contest, that Bill easily takes him up on, surging in for another kiss -  He only breaks off halfway through to start laughing.

Demonic, human, or otherwise -  No matter how normal or weird it gets - 

Dipper smiles, and holds Bill tighter. Feeling his chest shake with amusement, a warm body lying on him.

He knows they’ll have plenty of time together.

[rosepetals-v]

While obviously I stress how much I love this dude like all the fckn time, re whoever cares also rly, I still thought I'm kinda save, "because this is more an academic crush, like it's abt how great a prof he is" - which he is! - and then, now that I submitted my assignment late last night, and don't rly know what to do w/ my life, I went through some conference report thing (I didn't actually know he attended, was more because it sounded interesting) and bam, there's like the sweetest photo of him (you could also call it a very ordinary photo I guess 🙈) and man I feel way too much 🤯

[boiohboii]

Protective girl (Charles Leclerc x reader)

Inspires by @charles-eclair16 's fic

When fans go too far, yn wants to protect the one treasure in her life

or

in which we finally get to see the roles reversed

N.B: this is been in my drafts for so long, omg! Let me know what you guys think!! WARNING: not proof read, some swear words, might have messed up a date, don't focus on any dates mentioned, this is all fictional anyways. Hope you guys like it

masterlist

Liked by Arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 1,379,064 others

itsmeyn: charles always goes above and beyond for every single fan of his, he tries to take as many pictures and sign as many autographs as possible, but what happened last night was a fucking joke. He doesn't like what I'm writing cause he says that it was just a mistake and that it was fine, but it really isn't, it's so disrespectful and disgusting! He always wants to meet his fans and make them happy only to receive this insanity, him falling AND HURTING HIMSELF because some of you can't fucking wait and be organized like a human being! Charles isn't an animal in a zoo where you race to pet him! He is a human being, he is a son, a brother and a boyfriend! This wasn't just an accident, i have seen these 6 girls multiple times in multiple places! it's so obsessive and so so sick of you to follow him everywhere.... Charles won't speak up because he is Charles and he lives seeing the good in people, but I will tear everything and everyone for his safety, so for you 6 girls you will be hearing from court soon so better prepare a good lawyer you assholes!

Comments on this post have been disabled.

Liked by leclercboy, ynistheitgurl, fuckferarri and 91,739 others

F1_updates_live: Charles Leclerc's girlfriend, YN LN, seen today arriving in front of the UK's courthouse in a red SF9 Ferarri. It had been quite a week for YN as she was seen hitting a fan after the said fan pushed Charles. YN took this fan and 5 others to court, no one knows on what bases but what has come out is that she has won the case which means that Charles and YN have restraining orders against the group.

username: OHH HEEEELLL YEAAAAAHH

username: yn doing God's work

username: yn serving justice

username: that's what we needed

username: hot girl shit

username: the car and suit combo is so fucking hot of her

username: I think this is too much, like these girls just wanted to see Charles

username: @.itsmeyn can we make them 7?

username: another one

Liked by Charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, pierregasly and 617,829 others

itsmeyn: don't blame me, love made me crazy

username: YN IS A FELLOW SWIFTIE?!?!?

username: if I had a nickel for everytime yn and I had something in common I'd have 2 nickels, which is not a lot but it's weird that it's happened twice

username: now I just want her to watch all the charles edits done with a taylor song

itsmeyn: who says i already don't 🌚

username: and I oop-

username: THIS IS THE SWEETEST AND CRINGIEST SHIT EVER!

Liked by wolfffam, maxverstappen1, lance_stroll and 817,629 others

itsmeyn: congratulations to my baby, the love of my life, you deserve it and so much more ♥️♥️

username: FINALLY!!

username: idk how to react, ferarri has let us down too many times that all I know is lose

username: I don't see how he deserves it tbh, all of his results are shit for quite a while , he's only where he is cause he's driving a ferarri 🤷‍♂️

itsmeyn: oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were the one in a formula one car, in a ferarri, that by the words of many professionals is at its worse era. I don't care about you and your opinion but don't state it as a fact, no one can do better with these strategies. I hate to keep saying this but when your own fucking team doesn't have the same dream as you it turns to shit. Even if charles is the only one in the car, it's still a team sport, not a one man sport. Fuck you and your tiny ass brain that can never survive one lap in a formula one car, it'll probably explode cause of all the bullshit in it before the first lap anyway. So next time you wanna talk shit maybe try to do fifth of who you're criticising is doing, I bet that'll shut you up real quick you dimwit.

Liked by leclercpascale, pilotesofmonaco, tswiftyn, and 52,719 others

F1_updates_live: YN LN, Charles' long time girlfriend, seen today fighting Xavi in Bahrain due to his mistake on the radio which resulted in Charles losing his podium position.

username: good for her

username: charles is so lucky

username: I love how she always stands up for him

username: honestly, whenever charles or carlos ignore the strategies they win... I really wanna see more of that.

username: this is just Monaco 2024 GP all over again, yn was so fucking furious (rightfully so) cause Xavi's mistake costed charles a p1 in his home race.

username: this shit was so heartbreaking man

username: I think this was the first time we ever saw yn angry at sabotaging charles, like the most we saw was her holding his hand when crossing the street, making sure he eats first, playing with his hair when nervous, but I've never seen yn make someone literally cry until 2024 with Xavi being her victim

username: pffft, victim, he 100% deserved it

username: oh yeah, definitely. All my homes hate Xavi, like can you not say the strategy properly 😒

[biibini]

hello! :DD

i love reading all of your fics, they make me giggle and smile so much <3 (we’re brain rotting together ✨🤞)

it’s my bday today, so i’m wondering if i may request modern mizu and reader spending time together during the reader’s birthday?

nsfw modern!mizu x reader’s bday (request)

tags: loving mizu, soft, morning kisses, affectionate mizu, touchy, cuddling, bathtub scene???, massages, cunnilingus, dom!mizu, praise, dirty talk, dirty praise talk ?, strap on, hickies, riding, receiving head, fingering, aftercare

a/n: omg first off HAPPY BIRTHDAYYY! i hope this isnt too late & thank u for reading the brain rots :) im glad yall enjoy it as much as i do

18+ suggestive content below

modern!mizu would start the bday business in the morning before u wake up

normally, she would wake up in the early morning to go to the gym

but one day without it wouldn’t be the end of the world

besides, she would get the workout later tonight in between ur legs

(yeah i said it, the D is fire🔥, happy wife happy life)

(anyways)

she’d go out and get fresh flowers

prob from the local flower store in downtown

she’d try to be quiet with her motorcycle but if ur a light sleeper, u would know whats up

but she would come back to the apartment quietly and place the flowers neatly in a new vase

before changing back into her pjs, she would place the vase on the desk w a little note saying “good morning & happy birthday baby ♡”

climbing back into bed, u would feel her arms surround u from behind

Mizu sneaks back into bed after successfully finishing her mission: getting a pretty bouquet for her pretty birthday girl. Now under the covers, she turns to look at you. Still fast asleep, her arms wrap your body from behind. She feels you stir awake and hum from her touch.

Mizu hunches over to get a better view of your face. Your eyes flutter open. You look to your left to find Mizu, hair down and looking at you endearingly.

"Happy birthday, baby.", Mizu greets you, giving you a good morning kiss. You smile and kiss her back. "Thank you.", you respond back.

You hook your arms around her neck, attempting to pull her in for more morning kisses. Instead, she stopped you in your tracks.

"Someone left a special present for a pretty birthday girl on the desk."

You looked past Mizu and spotted the vase on the desk, holding your favorite flowers. Your eyes widen in shock. You crawl out of bed and walk over to get a closer look at the bouquet. Laid next to the vase was a note written in Mizu's handwriting.

Good morning and happy birthday baby, it wrote.

You stared at the note in awe, looking back at proud MIzu with a smile. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

You turned around to give Mizu a big hug and many many thank-you kisses.

modern!mizu would attempt to cook a breakfast in bed

she would probably end up asking u for help

but setting up the table? all her

serving u food? all her

setting u down in the chair? all her

she would want to treat her pretty girl well

in an attempt to make something cute, she would try to make heart-shaped pancakes or any shape u desired

it almost worked with the heart but it ended up looking like a squiggly heart

it was still delicious anyways

modern!mizu would def host a birthday lunch or dinner with u and ur friends

she can spend her time with u later tonight

but she wants u to celebrate with others during ur special day

i dont think she would surprise u but she would shock u with how meticulously planned everything is

from the reserved table to the special free birthday cake to the singing of happy birthday at the dinner table

at first, u thought it would just be the waiter and ur friends all sitting around and quietly singing

but akemi brought a karaoke microphone

and then taigen pulled out his speaker

and ringo brought out a tambourine

and mizu with another karaoke microphone

tbh it was ringo and akemi that wanted it to be loud but mizu just went along

its ur birthday it should be celebrated

they all proceeded to sing happy birthday, loud and proud

while ur waiter laughed and played along, happily singing and clapping to the beat

modern!mizu would probably find some way to sneak in "birthday kisses"

aka just more affectionate mizu

i feel like she wouldn't be the biggest fan of PDA but if she's feeling extra loving on ur special day, that goes out the window

if she's not holding ur hand, her arm is by ur shoulder

if her arm isn't wrapped around ur shoulder, it's wrapped around ur waist

and just random kisses

"just because" kisses

"oh it's ur bday" kisses

she's just in love and celebrating ur day

modern!mizu would definitely give u a relaxing bath after a long day of birthday celebrations

if big parties aren't ur thing, she would make sure to make u feel relaxed

she would set up the bath and let u pick whatever scent or bath bomb u wished to use

if it was ur thing, she would always recommend the lavender or jasmine scent for destress

while in the bath, she would set any tea u would like

light a candle

bring a book

if it was up to u, she could join the relaxation

but if u didn't wish for any disturbances, mizu wouldn't mind

but lets face it: ofc u want her in ur bday bath

after ur all settled, she would join right behind u & wrap her arms around ur body

its such a soft and intimate moment

after a day of celebration, u could relax and take a deep breath

You were sitting in the bathtub, filled with warm water, and a jasmine bath bomb quietly sizzling next to you. To your right, you watch Mizu light a lavender-scented candle. As you begin to settle into the bathtub and relax, you hear soft piano music in the background. You take a deep breath and enter your entire body into the bathtub, enveloping yourself in the warm water that Mizu prepared for you.

"Everything alright?", Mizu asks as she sits next to you outside the bathtub.

You nod in response. "Everything's perfect..."

You pause.

"Except one thing."

Mizu tilts her head in confusion. You look up to her, reaching your arm out to her with an open hand: an invitation to join you.

"You're missing.", you smile.

Mizu smiles back. Not a wide grin but a soft smile.

She strips down and enters the bath behind you. The water splashes against the side. Not overfilling quite yet, but almost filled to the brim with jasmine-scented bath water. You turn behind to see Mizu's face highlighted by one of the candles nearby. Her eyes softly gazed back at you, almost shining in the flickering light.

"Come here.", she says softly, wrapping her arms around your body. You lay back as you feel her hands find your sides, gently hugging your body. You feel her lips softly touch your shoulders, inching closer to your neck. Her breath tickles your neck, making you gasp in response.

"Mizu...", you turn your head to get a better view of Mizu.

"Shhh. Just relax.", she quietly mumbled.

"Let me treat my pretty girl on her birthday."

modern!mizu would give u little massages

she's gotten experience from eiji asking begging her to massage his back after a long day

by request, u can ask her to focus on specific pain points

but tbh the feeling of her hands caressing ur back (or anywhere) can send u a one-way trip to heaven

if ur still in the bath, she would wash ur hair too in the meantime

she can do her hair afterwards

the feeling of her fingers digging into ur scalp and back feels oh so good

NSFW content ahead

(oh thank god let's get to the good stuff)

modern!mizu would def give u birthday head

mizu would not hesitate at all

she would slowly start from giving u gentle kisses to worshipping ur entire body

and the finale erupting in between ur legs

strap or no strap, it was up to u

but she was determined to pleasure u either way

modern!mizu would keep on praising u the entire night

the amount of praises u would hear is sinful

a lot of "my love" or "my pretty girl"s but make it 100x

or "my pretty girl is doing so good"

"you like that, don't you?"

"taking my fingers so well... that's my beautiful girl"

(im blushing just thinking ab it)

modern!mizu would leave a dangerous number of marks

typically, she only likes to leave one or two hidden

but since she's already on a roll

she can get a little careless

and totally not leave a few in between your thighs

and around your boobs

and neck

all in all, she'd end the night giving u ultimate treatment aftercare aka just very affectionate and loving mizu

modern!mizu ends ur birthday night with cuddles and sweet kisses and more softer sfw praises until u fall asleep

You and Mizu lay yourselves on the bed, still recovering from the pleasurable highs and moans a couple minutes ago. Wrapped in Mizu's arms, you squeeze her arms tightly.

"Thank you for a wonderful birthday day, my love.", you compliment her as you kiss her cheek.

She turned to kiss you fully, one of her arms moving to allow her hand to cup your face.

"Anything for my pretty girl.", she answers back, smiling at you once more before coming closer to give you more loving kisses.

[chaosheadspace]

#30 for the smooch prompts, you know which pairing ❤️❤️❤️

Hi, thank you for sending in a prompt! One serving of Dreamling coming right up! 30 is "for comfort", and it's been just a liiitle bit inspired by my recent short vacation, lol. I hope this hits the spot, enjoy!

The storm outside whips rain against the windows of Dream's two bedroom flat, a haven of buttery light and radiator warmth and steaming tea amidst raging, salt-heavy air.

I miss you terribly, Dream types into his phone, hesitating to send, but then he presses the button anyway. Dream sighs. He says this too often, but he too often feels it. It's not ideal, being in a long distance relationship, but the fact remains that research about maritime biology is best done in proximity to the sea.

Hob's job, likewise, sadly requires him to stay in proximity to the University for good chunks of the year. When engrossed in his work, Dream does not mind, does not notice. But when he is here, at home, trees shaking in the seaside wind, it almost rends him apart. He misses so fiercely, so completely that it hurts like a wound.

They see each other two, maybe three times a year when the stars and their schedules align and it is always the best feeling imaginable and at the same time the worst, because Dream cannot have this every day, cannot even have this most days. He would very much like for Hob to be more than a sometimes, and yes, phone calls and video chats come close, but every photo Hob sends, every cheerful story he recounts for Dream comes with a small pang in Dream's chest that he wasn't able to be part of it, wasn't able to be there.

They have been together for three years now, and the only thing that hurts Dream more than physically being apart from Hob is the thought of Hob not being in his life at all, and so they make do with what they can manage. Hob has brought so much peace, so much ease and comfort into his life that Dream just has to hold onto him, no matter the cost.

Hob still hasn't answered his text like Dream's heart demands he do, while his brain sensibly chimes in that it has only been a few minutes, that Hob has things to do, that Hob always answers. Dream looks out the window, the late hour painting the trees and dunes in shadows and darkness, foggy through the rain, weeping like his soul.

Dream's phone plings.

“I've got something for that,” Hob's text reads.

Then there's a knock at the door. Dream goes, puzzled due to the late hour, exasperated due to the interruption.

In front of his door, dripping on the carpet there's Hob, windswept, rain-drenched, wet index finger leaving marks on his lit-up phone screen.

“Hob?!”

Hob looks up in an instant with a smile. “Hey darling,” he says, “surprise!”

“It is after ten,” Dream says, still shocked, stepping aside to let Hob in.

“There was no bus,” Hob tells him as he steps inside, zipping down his jacket. “Had to walk from the station.”

Dream leans into the small bathroom to grab a towel for Hob's hair. “But what are you doing here?”

“D’you want me to leave again?” Hob chuckles from under the towel.

“No!” Grabbing his waist, Dream pulls him close, uncaring about Hob's trousers that are drenched from the knee down.

“Don't worry,” Hob emerges from the terry. “Let me just get my shoes and pants and I'll tell you.”

Dream makes them tea, just like Hob likes it, while Hob sits on his couch under a blanket in his pullover and boxers. He's borrowed warm socks from Dream, but there's no way he can squeeze himself in one of his trousers.

Dream sits down next to him, offering him a steaming mug and taking one for himself. Hob brings warmth everywhere he goes, and so Dream feels his flat is now cozy rather than lonely, their own personal island in the storm.

After taking a sip, Hob sighs with contentment, fingers curled around the mug to heat them.

“I have an interview tomorrow,” he says after a pause. “They only told me this morning, and I didn't want you to fuss with preparations when I can just go grocery shopping for us after the appointment.”

“An interview,” Dream says slowly, feigning ignorance, not daring to let this much hope into his heart yet, not when he still might have misunderstood.

“A job interview, at the University one town over. As soon as I saw the ad I knew I had to,” Hob smiles.

“So you might—” Dream says, unable to speak further, happiness splitting open his entire being, hopeful, alight.

“I might,” Hob agrees. “So you—”

Dream kisses him.

With a hum, Hob blindly extends one arm to put his tea on the table and then draws Dream in, leaning back into the sofa. The kiss is languid, unhurried, because Dream now knows that he might have many, many more, maybe even all of them. That he might have Hob for longer than a few days at a time.

“We are going to look at flats,” he says as soon as they resurface.

“I still have to get the job,” Hob says.

“That is irrelevant.” Dream turns a little tip snuggle up against his side, pulling out his phone. “We do not have to message anyone right now, but we will have a look.”

“Right now?” Hob pulls at the blanket, almost unseating Dream again, before getting it free and draping it over both of their legs.

“Well, until you fall asleep on my couch, at least.” Despite being less clothed, Hob is warm against him, radiating comfort through Dream's own clothes, and he shuffles closer, hooking his legs over Hob's.

“Night owl,” Hob says fondly. “Can we at least relocate to your bed, soon?”

“Only in deference to your age,” Dream says with a sideways glance, already pulling up a website. “I do not want you to damage your back permanently.”

“Oi, I'm four years younger than you!” Hob lightly smacks Dream with one of the small sofa pillows.

“Only on paper.”

“Yeah, well, we can't all win the genetic lottery, but you make it sound like you'll be pushing me around in a wheelchair in ten years time.” He briefly presses his nose against Dream's hair and tightens the arm around Dream's shoulders in a short hug, taking a deep breath.

“Only if you keep up your usual cheek. Do you suppose we could be content with three rooms or do we need a fourth for a library?” Dream asks.

“Library, definitely,” Hob says earnestly, switching from banter to practicality with ease.

Dream kisses him again, for good measure. Because they're both greedy at heart, ravenous, and the more of Hob he gets, the more he wants. He's not sure if even a hundred years would be enough to sate this particular longing, but he will just have to try.

Send me a kissy prompt or read the other ones here

[deadsnothere]

Gunslinger Girl!

Synopsis - After getting a call from Garp, Alias made her way to the Baratie for a nice bite to eat and a long needed reunion.

Part 2

WARNINGS!! - READER HAS A NAME!!

Request - no, not taking them sorry.

Word count - 2.8k

Speak Ali! - Both parts together make 5,340 words, this Fic has literally taken up my brain.

Monkey D. Luffy.

Garp was a cheeky bastard.

I, Alias Foreman, Swore to be on Monkey D. Luffy's pirate crew when we both turned sixteen and fled to the sea together. I had a dream of becoming one of the most versatile people known to man. I want to learn as much as I can, to cook, to clean, to navigate boats and ships, anything you can teach me I will try my hardest to understand and learn. Now I'm not saying that I want to be the best at everything, there will always be people better. But I want to at least understand the basics of as much as possible. But for all of my life I've been known as a Gunslinger.

I'm ‘The Cheshire Cat’. Cool name with a stupid job. I hate being a Warlord of the Sea, it's the stupidest job on this side of the east blue, and they wouldn't even give me a proper crew. Just a few bumbling idiots who don't know what being a pirate really means.

Luffy always understood what being a pirate meant. I remember watching Garp train him day in and day out. Parts of me understand why Garp was so hard on him, I mean people say he takes after Gold Roger. Imagine your grandson taking after someone you helped execute. I don't think I'd be fond of it either. I’ve never thought Garp nor Luffy were wrong for what they want but, I think one knows what he's doing and the other doesn't.

-

It's always quite bothersome when halfway through my delicious dinner, I get interrupted by a soggy mean fishman running in here and trying to take my table for dinner. If he had waited a few minutes I would've gladly given it up, I just wanted to finish my meal. But the inpatient idiot just had to have it now.

“I'm afraid there are no more tables.” Arlong and two of his crew members were walking down the stairs of the Baratie. They’re bodies are still wet and leaving water as they walk, which is just plain disrespectful. “I see a bunch of tables.” I couldn't help but roll my eyes, to think I would have a peaceful dinner, just hopeful dreaming. People started to whisper and get up from their tables but I stayed in my seat, intending to finish the nice meal served to me. Plus it's not as if they got far, Arlong was yelling at them as soon as he got to the middle of the staircase. “Sit down!” he yelled in his degrading, chalkboard scratching voice. I continued to cut my steak in pieces to eat, they over cooked it a bit but a fine job was done anyways. Seasoned almost perfectly. A little too much oregano, but I'm just too picky with my food. Arlong went around as if he owned the place. “No one leaves.”

He looked at me with malice in his smile. “Except you.” His webbed hand went to grab the collar of my shirt but I stopped it with my own, barely even looking back. “I only have a bite or two left, I'll give it up when I'm done.” I took another drink from my wine and let go of his hand, continuing on with my meal. I could tell it pissed him off from the way he growled close to my ear. A stupid amount of spit landing on my dinner plate and shoulder. I shivered in disgust and stood up from my table. “You know what- take it.” I grabbed my plate and wine and stood up, leaving the small round table for the fishmen to sit at. I felt bad not eating the steak so I got a to-go box from the reservations desk and put it in there to give to someone later. Deciding that maybe i'll get a nice drink from the bar instead.

I was a wine kind of gal so I got a nice glass of Merlot, it was tasty. Had lots of flavor, some of which I enjoyed and some I didn't. I was enjoying the peace. I always knew it wouldn't last long but god was i sad when it was over. “Which one of you is Arlong?” Oh shit. I knew his voice anywhere, the voice I was sent for by his grandfather, the voice of a new age. I got a refill on my wine, and bought the whole bottle while I was at it, due to the lingering feeling that this wasn't going to look pretty.

When I got back into the restaurant I decided to just rest a little under the staircase, hidden by the shadows hopefully. Seeing Luffy again made me nervous. Something about it..something about how he’d be even a little bit different. When I assessed the situation in front of me it confused me a bit. I could hear that Arlong was yelling from the bar but he's an idiot so I tuned it out and tried to enjoy the bit of ‘quiet’ I had. Arlong has an older gentleman by his shirt collar, while Luffy was halfway down the main staircase. He had two men behind him, one named Usopp the other Sanji. I heard about them both, one from a customer here and the other, from a bartender. “So this is the pirate I've heard so much about.” Arlong was starting to circle around some of the tables, pacing I guess. “You know, I was expecting someone… bigger.”

Sounds like my cue. I came out of the shady area setting the wine glass and bottle on the table and grabbing a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from a pocket in my shorts, picking the lucky one and placing it in my mouth delicately. “Tell me about it..I've had someone in my ear all day. ‘Find that dumbass.’ I have a headache at this point.” I laughed and leant on the chair. Luffy looks away from Arlong for a millisecond, to look at me but I don't think it registered in his brain. He couldn't have forgotten me. Luffy spoke, in his normal, nonchalant, Luffy way. “So was I.” I was puffing from my cigarette as I laughed. The snicker making smoke pour out of my nose. That got Luffy's attention. His head snapped to look at me, his eyes didn’t leave me, it looked like he was inspecting every part of my body. Probably looking for the one sign it was me. The small skull shaped scar just above my left knee. I wore shorts today just so he would see it.

His eyes were as wide as the plates they were using to serve that delicious soup I had for an appetizer. “ALIAS?!-” internally I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. Externally, all I could do was smile. Luffy had a bright smile on his cheeks and I couldn't help but smile back. It was a smile I yearned for, for so long. I knew with even a bit of it, I was going to be addicted again.

I could see how excited luffy was that I was here (which made me VERY happy), but Arlong being himself did not like that attention wasn't on him for those few seconds so he cleared his throat obnoxiously. “Do you know who I am, boy?” Luffy's attention went to him but came right back when I spoke up. “Arlong the Saw.” There was a moment of silence, I taped the ash away from my cigarette into an empty glass off the table of people in front of me, and took another drag from it. “And just who are you-” - “I’m The Cheshire Cat.” I undid two of the buttons on my button up shirt with one hand, letting my collar fall back to show off the cat like scratches that laid on my collar bone (If those cats were lions that scratched almost all the way down my torso and arm). I did a stupid little bow. A few people reacted but I enjoyed the way Luffy looked so wowed. Arlongs eyes widened but they just went right back to a dumb smug smile. “You, Arlong, go for 20 million berrys.” I took another drag, exhaling calmly. “Which is impressive for the east blue but..Not so much other places.” He laughed from his chest, his friends going along with it. “What does the sell out have to say about it?” I sighed softly.

A part of me wished I was a sell out, instead of a kidnapped child forced to do the government's dirty work. The other part knew I would never do that, knew I would never betray my own crew like that. “Oh nothing honestly, I don't care about you.” I looked over to Luffy who still had a smile on his face. When we made eye contact he started to beam. I've only visited him once since I became a warlord, it makes me happy to see him so full of joy just from a moment of eye contact with me. “I'm here for him.” Luffy's hands started to shake, it was something small he always did around me. Blurted it out one day, said when I was excited sometimes I gave him a look, a glint in my eye that made him so happy his entire body shook. It was the sweetest thing he’d ever said to me. Arlong growled once again, leaving spit in someone's food. Those poor people.

He was circling the tables to get to me, circling around me slowly as if I was fish bait he was waiting to snap on. “Well I was here first.” I thought about correcting him, telling him that I was in fact here first. But Luffy interrupted the thought anyway. “How’d you find me anyway?” Luffy sounded completely confident in himself, Arlong just let out another horrid chuckle and made his way back to where he originally stood. “Old friend helped me track you down.” At first Luffy looked over to me, but I was drinking a sip of wine, just listening to what was happening in front of me. Arlong clicked his tongue and one of the other fish men grabbed the clown pirate's head out of a bag. “Heya, Straw hat. Did you miss me?” Luffy looked extremely confused, Sanji looked exhausted and Usopp looked terrified. “Burpy?” The name he called him almost made me spit out my wine from laughter (Which made Luffy happy, I could tell because he glanced at me. Even just for a second.) “What are you doing here?”

The fact that there was only a clown head confused and disturbed me, but I looked past it. “Believe me, it wasn't my first choice either.” He looked a bit nervous as he spoke. “But these fine fishy folk persuaded me to point them in the right direction, which ain't easy when you don't have any hands!” The joke made me raise my eyebrows and laugh a bit, it was funny i'll give him that. But Luffy still looked confused. “How’d you even know where to find me?” Suddenly the clown had the most serious expression I've ever seen him in. “I told you, I've got eyes and ears everywhere.” I noticed an ear start to climb out of the red band of Luffys hat. It was quite strange. The ear went back to the clown and popped right back in place, laughing. Luffy took the hat off his head inspecting it, while the two men behind him shared a look. “Stereo!” Luffy looked shocked. “You were listening all along? You heard everything?” The clown was quite happy. “Everything! and that old quick. 'Cause you shi-diots have no idea what you're doing.” The mashup word made me giggle a bit, it sounded so stupid, but it was kinda funny. (But luffy frowned a bit when he saw I laughed so i stopped as quick as i started).

The clown's head jumped towards the fishman with the huge lips. “Hey lips? How about a scratch behind the old ear, huh?” That made me roll my eyes, he was stupid enough to ask his captors that? The fishmen put him back in the bag. Buggy complaining about how sandy and wet it was.

“Listen here. I want my map.” It was so stupid. Watching them fight over the map to the entrance to the grand line, I understand why Luffy wanted it, but Arlong has a giant crew of thieves who could easily take it from another marine base. “Along with half of whatever you plunder as tribute.” Tribute? for getting a map, does he want tribute for his own existence now? “And if you bow down to me, I might even let you serve in my kingdom.” Stupid men. All of them were the same. Well not all, but most were extremely similar. “I don't bow down to any man.” Luffy stood tall, his head held up high as usual. That's my boy. “I'm no man.” Luffy continued. “Or fish.” That made Arlong growl and made me laugh. “And you’re no king.” There was a certain feeling in the air, the aggression that at any moment, one or the other would attack. Everyone was on high alert, my wine made that hard. It was just so delicate. Hard to enjoy in this environment but perfect in others.

“I will be, when I get my grand line map.” Luffy just smiled, which was a little bit attractive. “Then” He placed his hat back on his head. “You’re gonna have to fight me for it.” I take the attractive comment back, he's stupid. “Then let the fighting begin.” A bullet bounced off the fishmans skin. My hands almost drew closer to my own guns but instead I decided to pour another glass of wine. The old man that cooked my food was standing with a gun in his hand, the trigger pulled in his fingers clutches.

The thing about fishmen (I had learned the hard way) is that regular bullets don't affect them. I have very special bullets, made from some weird unmeltable ice, something about them coming from a town inside the grand line called drum town, from the deepest parts of frozen lakes. They're so sharp they even pierce fishman skin but don't go as deep as I would like.

Arlong turned to the old man, one of his crew members kicking him away and down before punching him into a pillar. Sanji called out his name and ran over, jumping on the table and kicking the fishman in the face. Which just pissed him off more. He got a few good kicks to the face and arms, even the legs but Luffy distracted him. “Really good fighter.” By the time he went to do a quite nice spinning kick to the face again, he caught his foot in his arm. I reached for both guns in my holsters, Checking that they had the correct bullets and shot multiple rounds from Alice, all of them making a trail up his arm and letting Sanji get away. The fishman looked back at me, anger and confusion in his eyes. “These bullets are made of ice, so sharp they even pierce fishman skin. I got them specially made.” There was a delicate smile on my lips, blowing the smoke out of my mouth and away from my guns. Normally i wouldn't touch these but i had a feeling about bringing them today, i'm glad i did. they may be expensive but Luffy was worth it anyways.

Everything was happening so quickly, Luffy's gum gum pistol, Arlong grabbing and pulling him closer. “Uh-” I could tell there was panic in his voice, but I couldn't tell if helping would really be helping at all. He was thrown at a pillar, landing on the floor with a thud. “Get up!” Arlong yelled, if i was him i would've stayed on the floor in spite, but he got up regardless. He kept stretching his arms three punches, one to each shoulder and one to the face. “Not bad for a human.”

I lifted my pistol to shoot Arlong but luffy put his hand up, his middle and ring finger were intertwined and the other three fingers touched. That was our sign when we were kids to stay out of it. It was our secret signal, not even Ace or Sabo or Dadan knew what it meant. I lowered my pistol, spinning it and putting it back in its holster. I grabbed the wine bottle taking a nice big gulp. Glad i’d gotten the entire bottle because this in fact, was not going to be pretty.

Part 2!!

[she-wolf09231982]

Chapter 1-Black Penny

Summary: You grew up in the hustle and bustle of a city most of your life, so you packed your few belongings and headed straight to New Orleans. You hoped to live a simpler, quieter life on the Historic French Quarter. By day during the week, you helped manage Marie Laveau’s House of Voodoo Shop and by nightfall you tended bar at Black Penny on the weekends.

You were aware mutants existed, and believed them to be just as ordinary as you but only with extraordinary abilities. After living a few years in NOLA, you had a knack of picking them out in a crowd and treated them no differently than you’d treat anyone else. You had many run in’s with mutants on Bourbon Street, but none as impactful as the day you ran into Remy LeBeau.

A/N: Character Intro, She/Her Pronouns, GambitX!FemaleReader, GambitX!NonMutant, RemyLeBeauX!FemaleReader, Mutants, Post Deadpool and Wolverine, Post Void, New Orleans, Alcohol, Pining, Creole/French to English Translation

(c) - Creole

(f)- French

*I just want to disclose I am not a comic expert. Gambit/Remy LeBeau is very new to me and I’m doing my best to stay genuine to what I’ve researched online or from what I’ve seen in the D&W movie. I’m aware there was a HUGE controversy over his heavy accent/dialect and over his eye color in the movie, so I tried to incorporate both versions of each in my stories to satisfy everyone’s preferred Gambit/Remy style. (Personally, I loved Channing Tatum’s accent in the movie ☺️) I’m also cognizant that Gambit and Rogue are an item in the comics, but for sanity sake, Rogue will be a pastime only mentioned in passing if absolutely necessary so I don’t have to study in depth another character I’m unfamiliar with. (I need some brain space for real life stuff, too 😅) Anyway, I’m doing my maximum effort over here writing for Gambit/Remy, so when I do post my developing Gambit story, please, if you have comments or criticisms that don’t benefit anyone else’s appreciation of these fanfics, keep them to yourself and let the rest of us enjoy it. Thanks so much*

♠️♥️♣️♦️

It was a particularly busy night at Black Penny. As live bounce music and jazz blared from the stage, patrons dance and socialize carelessly with each other while you hotfoot from one end of the bar to the other serving up shots and beers.

You approach a man waiting patiently, his face downward hovering over a stack of playing cards.

“What can I getchya?” You ask him.

He began twirling an ace of spades between his fingers.

“(c) Kisa mwen ka jwenn pou ou?” You repeat.

The man lifted his gaze to meet yours with a mischievous grin stretching across his face. An eerie magenta glow softly radiated from his irises causing your jaw to drop. Your stunned reaction spurred him, causing his smile to widen and his eyes to glow brighter as the whites of his eyes began to blacken.

“….woah.” You say under your breath.

The man chuckled, “(c) Ou dwe padone Gambit, cheri (You must pardon Gambit). When his eyes see somethin’ so (f)dulcet (beautiful), it be hard to hide it.”

You shook your head to refocus, “No need to apologize. This is a safe space for everyone. Just caught me off guard is all.”

You flash him a smile and a wink as he returned one to you, the whites of his eyes returning to ‘human’ version of normal and his irises became a shade of icy green.

“Nobody be lookin’ at me like dat wit’out runnin’ off. You weren’t scared?”

“Of course not. Takes a lot more than a pair of flashy eyes on a handsome face to scare me away.” You state.

He laughed as he adjusted in his seat.

“Dats good, dats good.” He said as he leaned forward on the surface of the bar.

“What are you drinking, Gambit?” You ask again.

“Sazerac. (c) Mèsi, cheri. (Thank you, darling).”

You bring the gentleman a rocks glass fixed neat with the amber-red reserve bourbon. He gingerly raised the glass to his nose, inhaling the oak wood barrel scent with hints of cherry, caramel, apples, and tobacco.

He hummed with satisfaction, “(c) Manyifik (Magnificent).”

You nod, then turn to walk away.

“Remy.” You hear him call to you.

“Pardon?” You say as you turn back to him.

“The name’s Remy LaBeau.” He reiterated cooly after taking a sip from his glass.

He averted his eyes to you, awaiting your name. You grin back.

“Y/F/N.”

“(c) Kontan rankontre ou, Y/F/N (Pleased to meet you).”

You feel your face go red as you laugh nervously.

“Same.” You managed to say before scurrying to the other end of the bar to wait on other customers.

♠️♥️♣️♦️

Remy sat quietly in his spot at the bar the entire evening, only ever looking up from his deck of Mavericks to catch a glance of you as you pass him. The crowd started to thin out as last call was announced.

“One for the road, Remy?”

He beamed at you, “Oui, cheri. If you join me for one.”

You smile coyly, “I gotta close up, chief. How about this; I’ll bring you another Sazerac on the house, and I’ll take a rain check?”

You see the magenta glimmer in his eyes again.

“I like the soun’ of dat, cheri.”

You smile and nod then turn to the counter behind you to prepare his drink. You set it in front of him as he placed a $100 in front of you.

“You only had two. That’s too much.”

“(c) Pran li (Take it). For your generosity an’ da company.” Remy insisted.

You beam at him, “(c) Ou twò janti (You’re too kind).”

He stood up from his stool, and fixed his collar on his leather trench.

“Until next time, mon cher.” He said smiling while standing tall opposite you.

“Orevwa, Remy. I’ll see you around.” You reply sweetly as you feel your cheeks heat up again.

“(c) Mwen pwomèt ou pral (I promise you will).” He purred in his heavy honeyed Cajun accent.

He bowed, then turned on his heel to exit the bar. You released a deep exhale as if you hadn’t taken a breath since having met him that night.

♠️♥️♣️♦️

*I know this was a short one and I plan on a chapter 2. I’m just dipping my toe in the water here to see what feedback I get* 🥰

[keichan]

secrets

swiped to the right 'cause i thought you were cute

sakusa x reader

wc: 1.2k

authors note: long time no see! It’s been about two years since I’ve posted on here! And this just so happens to be my hundredth post! My master list is pinned to my profile. Please support me through my comeback 🙏🏻

Your eyes followed the curly-haired outsider hitter as you carefully slid your phone out of your bag. You glanced down as your thumb quickly hit the Tinder app. It’s been so long since you’ve been on it, it offloaded from your apps.

“C’mon.” You mumbled, tapping at the fire logo waiting for it to load. The reception in the gymnasium was slow. You open your messages and click on the name Kiyoomi. Quickly pulling up the profile. 

Deleted. 

Makes sense. You guess that it was foolish that you didn’t delete your profile as well. If anything you just forgot about the app with all the time you spent together between classes. 

You swipe out of the app and move to your photo gallery. It wasn’t even a week ago… 

There. There was a photo of you hanging onto his arm, both of you smiling into a mirror at a coffee shop. Swiping through the few pictures that you had of him, the man on the court was definitely the same Kiyoomi in your phone.

You’ve been seeing him for… what? Three months now and he never mentioned this. He said he just finished school and he was job hunting… He did mention playing in high school and college but nothing serious…

The sound of the whistle echoes through the arena. They had announced that his team had the first serve. You click his contact in your phone and check the last messages.

Kiyoomi: going to work out (:

Reading the text, you can feel your eyes roll so hard you could probably see your brain. Yeah, this is working out, alright.

Glancing back at the court, the ball was being set to Kiyoomi at a lightning pace. You could feel your mouth open slightly at the shock of the spike. There was no possible way that someone could humanly dig that up, but the other team did anyway.

You couldn’t believe it.

-

After four sets, the game drew to a close with MSBY pulling three straight sets. Throughout the duration of the game you thought about texting something snarky or clever along the lines of guess who but nothing that you tried typing sat right.

Avoiding the crowd, you walked down to the rails of the home side, watching over girls fawning over the men’s team as they drank their water and wiped their sweat away. You leaned over the railing, looking directly at Kiyoomi. He has a towel wrapped around his neck, his curls flattened against his forehead from the sweat, panting into a mask. Two of his teammates behind him, were patting his back overenthusiastically while his eyes were filled with dread.

His eyes scanned the crowd, dipping his head in intervals to thank the crowd for coming to the game. His eyes stopped on you, his eyebrows furrowed and his demeanor straightened. Raising a hand you offered a small wave, which made his forehead scrunch more. He nodded his head towards the gymnasium door. He shrugged off his teammates, waving them away, waving at the fans, before walking towards the door.

-

“So when were you gonna tell me that you were a fancy, big shot volleyball player?” You leaned against the hall outside the men’s locker room.

“It’s not that big of a deal-”

“Kiyoomi, I literally googled you.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “You’re playing in the Olympics next year.”

“I think a better question to ask is why are you at a men’s V-League game? You don’t even watch volleyball.” He placed his hands into his pockets, frowning.

“Hanae bought a ticket to today’s game, but she had to study. Which is so not the point. I’ve been seeing you for months now and you kept this from me. This is your career! Your life! Were you ever planning on saying anything or were you just gonna keep hoping that I believed that you were a gym rat” His dark eyes never left yours.

“Obviously that wasn’t the intention-”

“Obviously.” You mocked. “Your intentions weren’t very clear. If I wasn’t important enough to be a part of this, am I just a side piece? I sat through an entire match wondering ‘huh I can’t believe that this man is such a talent. I can’t believe all the hours of hard work from his being that had to be put into this’ to not share it with the person who’s apartment you're at almost every night!”

“Y/N, I-” He was cut off by the locker room door creaking open.

“Hey! Have you guys seen Omi-Omi?” A teammate of his popped his head out of the door. “Oh hey.” The blonde said before noticing you. “Also, hey.” He turned his attention back to Sakusa. “Bo and Shoyo are looking for you. They wanna see if you wanna go to that yakitori place down in Dotonbori again.” 

“I’ll be there, Miya.” He waved him off without a glance

“Sweet. We’re heading there after we get dressed.” Miya pulled the door closed. Silence filled the air as he turned his head to the side.

“You know what, have fun with your team tonight.” You pulled your bag tightly over your shoulder as you turned on your heel. You barely made it five steps before you heard your name being called. A slender hand grabbed your shoulder gently, making your footsteps slow as he guided your body to look back at him.

“Listen.” He pulled the loops of his mask over his ears. He folded the mask nicely in his hands before pocketing it, and returning his gaze to you.

“I understand why you’re upset with me, and if you want to walk out of this gym without ever talking to me again that’s fine, but you are not going to walk out of here thinking that I don’t like and care for you.” His fingers curled around your forearm.

Shaking your head, you pull your arm to your chest, Sakusa still attached. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. And another. And another.

“Y’know around the three month mark it’s the point where you consider if you want to stay together and start picturing a future together-”

“You’ve done a lot of talking in the last five minutes, now it’s my turn.” He let go of your arm, letting it fall to your waist. His figure towering over you. “I didn’t disclose to you me being a professional volleyball player, especially on Tinder, because, yes, I am famous to an extent and some people only want to be with me because I am famous or because I’m talented. I have gone on dates with girls that care about my career and not me. Like I said, Tinder. I’m very happy to be with you and spend all of my time outside of practice with you, in said apartment, but it is not everyday that you hear fortunate stories of people who meet off of Tinder. I was planning on telling you when I asked you to be my girlfriend later this week because I know you care about me, so trust me when I tell you that I don’t think this situation is ideal.” He ran his hand through his hair, looking down at you for a response.

A small smile tugged on the corner of your mouth.

“You were gonna make it official?”

He rolled his eyes. “Stay right here.”

“Where are you going?” You ask tilting your head.

“I still have to shower.” He walked towards the locker room.  “Look’s like we’re getting yakitori later.”

[askinkiskarma]

My sweet bb Andra 💕 How are you doing love ? 💫

I have a juicy Request and I know you will make its justice 😩🤌🏻

So basically, we have Neteyam and Mate going out for a little time together at the lake, or pond whatever (deep enough 😏😳). Reader decides to draw Neteyam. So he poses for her and well she starts drawing and all. She is all concentrated looking at the paper for a moment and she feels something being thrown at her. She looks at him and well 🥴 We don't need any precisions here :3

Reader is all flustered and Neteyam is just smirking widely. Reader hasn't any time to react because we hear Jake's voice screaming Neteyam's name from afar. Oh ! Guess what ? Neteyam forgot. Yes. He forgot a training with his father (Pls let this poor guy rest a bit 🙂).

And Lo'ak (Otherwise it wouldn't be funny hehe)

Neteyam tries to grab his loincloth but reader is faster and throws it far into the bushes, with a smirk obv. So Neteyam has no choice to jump into the water (I know that Na'vi are less ashamed of nudity... Are they ? Anyways !)

So his brother and father get there, very fastly. Everything that happened before was like in 10 secs.

The rest I leave up to you 😏 We only need some funny dad-Neteyam and brother-Neteyam interactions when he just can't go out of the water, but he's very very late... Then we have Lo'ak that finally understands and just cannot stop laughing, making Jake more than less annoyed than he already was. And we have some intense playfull eye contacts with the reader. She's enjoying it haha.

Yeah... You can end it like you want 😂💖 My brain is a mess sometimes ugh 😥

Okay Imma stop 🙈🌸 I hope this inspired you and no pressure okay ? 🫂

Smooches 🥰

no cause this is so so funny and i hope you enjoyed bestie xx it feels good to be back writing for neteyam :((

pairing: neteyam x human!reader

wc: 1170 words

warnings: smut, fluff, minors do not interact 🔞

na'vi compendium: yawne - beloved, tewng - loincloth, tanhí - bioluminescent freckles

As a human on Pandora, there wasn't much for you to do, very little your body was inherently made for. You were slow and clumsy, a stark contrast to the Na'vi carrying you on his back like a little doll, all nimble and quiet as he treaded the deep shrubbery, his thumbs massaging your thighs as you rested your chin on his shoulder, humming contently in between peppering kisses to his neck.

As a human on Pandora, you were stuck in a lab most days, with filtered air and fluorescent lights, that did nothing for you, that had a rare talent of making even the most beautiful creature look ghastly and ashen, that gave you a headache, that made you miss the beautiful light peering through the uneven gaps created by the branches of the tall trees of the Omaticayan forest. Stuck as you were, you turned to artistic outlets for your boredom. You loved to draw, and you became very good in time, enough that the entire lab and some of the village were now covered in your landscapes and your portraits. The people loved you, and your talents, and often urged you to draw them or loved ones, as a way to immortalise a face or a moment forever in time, a priceless gift for them, and one that gave you a place amongst the Na'vi, even different, as you were.

As a human on Pandora, you didn't have a lot of choice of entertainment... or men. But you've never felt the lack... not when you had Neteyam. Your best friend, your confidant, he was always up for a challenge, and, let's just say, he always thought of you as one. In the few years since your 18th birthday, a rite of passage of sorts for humans, you were told, Neteyam made it his purpose to show you that you will never have to miss out on anything on Pandora, that he would make it his life's mission to... be there for you, in any and every way you needed, be it to be a shoulder to cry on, or a shoulder to rest your legs on as his head was in between your thighs, Neteyam was always there - ready to help, ready to serve.

You gulped as you reminisced about this morning, about the moans that escaped him as he was lapping at your folds like he was quenching an unquenchable thirst, like eating you out was for his own pleasure, and not your own, or the way he didn't stop until you were so overstimulated you were crying, something he made up for by showering you in soft kisses and quiet whispers of "you did so well for me, yawne. you always take me so well."

"You ok back there... friend?"

"Yes, Teyam. Just tired. Are we almost there yet?"

"Patience, love. You wanted more inspiration for your drawings, right? I told you I found just the place, and you're going love it, I promise. It's just a little further."

Well, he was right. The little meadow created by a small, clear pond, bustling with little fish swimming peacefully, drowned in warm sunlight, was the perfect backdrop for the painting you had in mind. With a small smirk, you pointed at the water and clicked your tongue at your much larger, beautiful, muscular friend.

"Get in, Teyam."

"Why?"

"I've wanted to draw you for a while, I just wanted the perfect background, and now I have it. Now go."

You chuckled to yourself as you heard a loud splashing noise, and settled on removing your pad and pens, placing them on the ground next to you as you thought about what positions would work best for what you had in mind. You gasped loudly when something soft hit you in the face, removing you from your less than innocent reveries - it seemed Neteyam was ahead of you, as you felt for the object that you removed from yourself and realised it was his loincloth. When you looked back at him, your mind shortcircuited at the sight of his naked body, glistening in the sun as the water dripped down every defined muscle, down his chest and abs, down his v-line, down his -

"You like what you see, yawne?"

Although it pained you, you raised your eyes until they met his beautiful features, tanhí shining brightly even in broad daylight, as they always did when he was overtly happy or amused, and by the wild, mischievous grin and crinkles by his eyes, it was a safe assumption he was both.

"I say you forget the painting for now, and come here so I can show you how... grateful I am you thought of me as your next subject."

It was a no-brainer to you, really, but when you heard a voice you knew all too well screaming, the noise echoing through the trees, heightening the sound, your body stilled in place.

"Neteyam! Are you there, boy?"

"Fuck! I forgot I was supposed to meet my dad for training."

"Quick, throw me the tewn-" you screeched as the instruction came too little too late, and in the heat of the moment and much to Neteyam's dismay, frightened by the quickly approaching steps of the Olo'eyktan, you threw the cloth in the opposing direction, somewhere in the bushes.

"Netey- ah, kid. What are you two doing here?"

You just looked at him, panicked, eyes flickering from him to Neteyam's younger brother, who looked at you suspiciously, eye narrowed as they assessed the situation at hand through a lens of youth and misdemeanour Jake couldn't really see, and you were glad.

"Cat got your tongue, kid?" The Sully patriarch's raised eyebrow did very little to will out of the catatonic state you found yourself in, so you remained quiet as he scoffed, turning his attention to his oldest son, instead.

"You were supposed to be in training at 1400 hours, remember?"

"Yes, sir."

"Come on, out. We need to be off and make up for it."

"I-I... can't."

"And why the hell not, boy?"

You felt Jake's eye roll deep in your soul, and you felt like you should take the blame for this since... you threw Neteyam's clothes away in fear, and everything. You should rectify this.

"Jake, I-"

"Oh, my Eywa! He's naked! He's so naked!"

Your mouth dropped in shock, but it was too late. The cat was indeed out of the bag, and as your and Neteyam's eyes met, listening to his dad's groans of disgust, you were a little relieved to see a hint of a smile on his face, the beautiful twinkle of amusement putting your mind at ease, letting you know it was all going to be ok. As long as you were together, and you had him, it was all going to be ok.

Reaching your hand behind your head to scratch the itchy spot at the base of your neck, you laughed awkwardly as you spoke:

"I'm... experimenting with some new artistic techniques?"

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

Prompt: "Stop trying to get me to walk under the mistletoe.” “You break the tradition and you end up being cursed for life. Is that what you want?” “…Are you blackmailing me right now?”

Pairing: Floyd Leech x GN!Reader

Genre: Fluff

TW: Reader is not Yuu, Reader is implied to be human and an Octavinelle student, Jade is a menace who let's his brother get away with everything.

AN: Day 3 and it's Floyd! His was the first fic that I completed so I have a special spot for this in my heart. I love how this turned out honestly. Also this prompt was the one that gave me the idea to do this event in the first place lol. I tried my best to keep Floyd in character as much as I could, but if he feels ooc I'm sorry hehe. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

You could feel Floyd staring holes into your head as you served the customers in the Mostro Lounge.

The Lounge was busier than usual. With the steady arrival of the holidays, even the gruelling exams the staff had set for the student body couldn't dampen their spirits, which meant celebrating in advance at the Lounge with friends. And with business booming your house warden was in even higher spirits. Of course, the growing rush of patrons for the Lounge meant that nearly all of Octavinelle was roped in to help out, serving dishes and working in the kitchen.

A little extra pocket money never hurt anyone, plus Azul had assured that everyone who would work a certain amount of hours at the lounge would be getting a considerable bonus, so you didn't mind having to work long hours scrubbing dishes or smiling at customers as you helped them pick out what to eat and drink. It was a welcome distraction from poring over your books till your brain turned to mush and driving yourself up the wall overthinking about the results of your exams (that you knew you did well at; it's just irrational fears doing what they do best).

What you did mind, however, was the fact that somehow, you had managed to catch the attention of one of the most unpredictable students at Night Raven College, Floyd Leech.

No, scratch that. Catching his attention was... fine, but holding it for more than two days?

That was terrifying.

You mentally cursed out the idiot who had attached sprigs of mistletoe to all the doorways in the Octavinelle dorm. While it had led to many funny and embarrassing moments for others in the dorm, it had quickly become tiresome to monitor yourself while entering or exiting a room. Especially when the mistletoe couldn't be removed with normal and magical means, much like a heterochromatic eel merman who just wouldn't let you be ever since you explained the silly tradition behind them to him.

"Heeyy flying fishie~"

The familiar drawl of his voice made you freeze momentarily. You held the empty server tray close to your chest as if the round piece of metal could somehow protect you from the tall eel who had taken an interest in you. "Yes, Floyd?"

Floyd gave you a lazy smirk, swinging an arm around your neck and leaning against you. You struggled a bit to hold yourself up with his added weight. You watched your vice-house warden and the twin brother of this menace turn a blind eye to your predicament, and resisted the urge to throw the tray at Jade's head as you caught a glimpse of a smirk on his lips.

"Say, why'd you run away from me yesterday, hm? Did ya wanna get squeezed that badly?" Floyd giggled, and you couldn't figure out whether your heart was cartwheeling inside your chest out of fear or because of how unbelievably adorable that sound was.

"I just- I needed to study."

"Ehhh? Study?" Floyd narrowed his eyes at you, and you prayed you had not flipped the switch on his mood from happy to angry.

"Studying's boooring. I wanna play with flying fishie~" Floyd hummed, a mysterious glint in his eyes as he pulled you towards the kitchen. One that went unnoticed as your eyes caught sight of the one plant you had started dreading seeing.

"Why is there mistletoe on the door to the kitchen?" You asked, but your question came too late. Floyd had already opened the door and pulled you in. Another sprig of mistletoe was stuck on the inside, the white berries looking down on the two of you through flecks of green. It felt like the tiny parasitic plant was mocking you for finally falling into its trap.

"Ohh, we're under mistletoe~ Just like a few days ago, isn't that right flying fishie~" he smirked, crowding you till you had your back against the door.

You looked past him to see.... no one?

Where did everyone go? Service wasn't over yet, so why was the kitchen empty?

"Flying fishie~ Where's my kiss~" he hummed, eyes carefully assessing you as his fingers pinched your cheek. You tried to act stern, but your words came out in a tired tone.

"Floyd, stop trying to get me to walk under the mistletoe with you."

“You break the tradition and you end up being cursed for life. That's what you told me. Is that what you want?” he said, his face turning sombre, as if he hadn't been smiling at you all this while.

"Are- Are you seriously blackmailing me right now?!” you sputtered, your heart beating fast as you looked at him. Floyd leaned forward, smiling innocently.

"Maybe~"

You weighed your options, eyes carefully watching the other, much to his amusement. You were well and truly trapped between the door and this absolute wall of an eel with no way out. Atleast, none that didn't involve you giving in to the tradition some way.

Huffing, you finally decided on a course of action. You held his smug face and turned it to the side, quickly planting a kiss on his cheek. The shock and surprise of this unexpected kiss loosened his hold on you, and you quickly slipped out the door.

Speed-walking past a chuckling Jade and a confused Azul, you tried to control the heat you could feel in your cheeks and at the back of your neck by sheer force of will. A quick glance at the clock showed that your shift for the day was over.

You had never left the Lounge quicker.

Jade entered the kitchen, a smile on his face as he saw Floyd leaning against the wall with a surprised look.

"Flying fishie kissed me," he mumbled, and Jade had to force back the amused laugh that threatened to break free. "I suppose the mistletoe worked its magic. Humans sure do have funny rituals."

Jade's words seemed to bring back the spark in Floyd, who gave his twin a blinding smile. "I'm gonna go ask them for more!" he said as he rushed past him, and Jade shook his head in amusement as he called out to his twin.

"Remember to confess this time, Floyd."

Back to Masterlist...

[ryker-writes]

omg i love ur broken relationship sibling hcs i eat them up everytime 🫶 can i have a leona or jamil version 🥺

Yes! Someone else has requested Leona down the line so this one will be dedicated to Jamil. Thank you so much for reading and enjoying them! Not sure if this one was as angsty as I was hoping for but my brain was really struggling with Jamil for no reason. Sorry if this one isn't as good as my other ones

Request rules and Masterlists

Jamil as a sibling (Broken Relationship)

the Viper family has always served the Al-Asim family

since you were a part of the Viper family, you were expected to serve the Al-Asims like everyone else

this meant you had to spend your life doing whatever they said without being better than them at anything or speaking casually with them

your family was raised around them, so you were taught from a very young age how to act around them

your brother Jamil seemed very good at his job taking care of Kalim

he served Kalim well and never outshined him, but his talents still shined through

it was really impressive how he handled it all

especially with all of Kalim's whims and his carefree attitude

Jamil was a shining example of what your parents wanted

the perfect servant who did everything that was asked of him flawlessly, and didn't complain or protest in any way

you on the other hand, weren't perfect like him

at times it was difficult to keep up with your master and you would get tired quickly and even slip up as the day progressed

each and every time, you were scolded heavily by your parents

all it took was a quiet sigh for you to be scolded

eventually they had Jamil try to teach you how to be better

he...wasn't too happy about this

he's normally very busy anyway and this only took more time from him

Jamil acted very different from how he did normally

when it was just you, he didn't mind letting his frustration show

and he got frustrated quickly

he knew your parents standards so anything less than perfect service wasn't tolerated

so he didn't expect you to be perfect considering you needed his help, but he seemed to think you were worse than expected

in his eyes, teaching you might take a while

Jamil was certainly a strict teacher

he would have you practicing for hours and any mistake would mean you had to restart the process

there were some days where he was extra tired and he had no problems expressing that to you

when you failed then, he would mumble to himself like

"Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless and a waste of time."

you're not sure if he intended for you to hear his mumblings, but you certainly did each time

it's a bit spirit crushing to hear him say it more than once

it would make you dread the days when Kalim had more energy and was more lively

it wasn't really Kalim's fault but Jamil would be extra tired those days and end up taking it out on you

it was hard not to let his words get to you

so even when your parents decided that you didn't have to be taught by him anymore, his words stuck

anytime you failed at anything, his word would echo that you were hopeless

this followed you into Night Raven College too

especially since the only people you knew there were Jamil and Kalim

since Kalim was there, you were still expected to serve him

thankfully Kalim wasn't as strict about things and he treated you well

while you could be more at ease around Kalim, you couldn't around Jamil

he did give you some of his tasks to handle throughout the day and there were times you were left to watch Kalim

it wasn't too bad watching over Kalim

he was always very happy about it but that meant he wanted to go on adventures and do super exciting things with you

this is usually when it was more work

still, his energy and joy towards everything was nice

Jamil would check in periodically throughout the day to make sure you were doing everything right

if he saw something that was wrong, he'd immediately take over and tell you to just go anywhere else

all while mumbling to himself about it

for a bit, Kalim's joy was what kept you hopeful

but that changed too

during winter break, all of Scarabia was supposed to stay in order to train and study so we could do better in future events

Kalim himself ordered this

it didn't seem so bad at first

but then he made everyone march to the oasis multiple times throughout the day

it was far too much for everyone to handle

some students even passed out, and you started to feel it too

and to top it all off, Kalim wasn't actually marching with everyone

he got to ride on one of his elephants while everyone else marched

at some point, you decided to try and talk to Kalim about it

maybe you could get him to ease up on everyone just a little bit

you told him that the oasis was too far to walk to in the heat and some students, including you, were starting to feel like you're going to pass out

but Kalim snapped at you

"If you can't keep up, we'll leave you behind. We can't waste any time on people like you."

oh

it was like you were back to your childhood being taught by Jamil

but it was a little different coming from Kalim

almost spirit crushing all over again

you just went along with the march after that, not wanting to be left behind

for some reason, Kalim was much meaner to you after that

he's been more snappy and couldn't tolerate anything less than the best

and you didn't seen to cut it

still, you had to serve Kalim and Jamil made sure you did

Jamil told you that this was all for the better and that you should be helping encourage your peers

but it just didn't seem right to you

he only got more upset when you expressed that and started mumbling again

you can't remember much of what happened after that but you do remember that some of the other students seemed pretty upset with you

that wasn't the only time it happened either

there were a few more times when people would be upset with you, but you had no idea why

that was until some Octavinelle students came

they were guests and treated pretty well

but then Octavinelle's housewarden, Azul, exposed Jamil using a recording

Jamil was using his unique magic to control the minds of Scarabia...

that explains what's been happening to you and why Kalim has been acting meaner

Jamil was using the both of you to help enforce his plans

Kalim is the housewarden, but Jamil has been in charge this whole time

Kalim was pretty upset and tried confronting Jamil...

but that only led to Jamil overblotting and Kalim and the Octavinelle students were sent off into the desert

you were left with overblot Jamil

he had already started putting all of Scarabia under his control, but you just had to ask him

"Why? Why would you do this? To Kalim or me?"

he laughed

"I can't be expected to waste my life as someone else's servant. I'm meant to be the one in charge. You and Kalim are just easy pawns made to help me."

a pawn

that's all you were to Jamil

you can't remember much after that, which meant he must've used his magic on you again

when you were brought back to your senses, he had been defeated by Kalim and the others

and of course, Kalim was quick to forgive him, even wanting to throw a celebration

but you just couldn't take it

you couldn't be there and pretend like everything was okay, so you left Scarabia that night

and yet, Jamil had found you outside classes the next day and tried talking to you

"I just wanted to talk to you about everything that's happened. For the most part I just wanted to say...I'm sorry. It's not enough, I know that. But I hope that someday you could forgive me and I can work to be closer with you."

But can you forgive him after everything?

[crystallizsch]

Hello Ian! ♡

I hope you're doing well!

Here's some more Jamil thoughts for you!

Something I don't see a lot of people talk about when it comes to Jamil is the idea of family recipes, more specifically, recipes that only the Viper Family know.

Food that he and Najma grew up having, learning the recipes for himself once he was older. Recipes that have been passed down in the Viper Family for generations.

I would like to imagine he wouldn't make them for Kalim, or even let him know about them, wanting to keep these foods and recipes for himself.

As he gets to know you, his feelings growing and turning to something more, he thinks of these recipes, wanting to share these foods with you.

Foods to be made and had with family. For loved ones.

As much as he tried to deny it, to fight it, he grew attached to you. Not just attached, oh no, he knew in the back of his mind what this was. He wouldn't admit it though, even when he ends up making one of the recipes for himself, wondering if you'd enjoy it as he ate.

It wouldn't be until you two were a couple that it would happen, Jamil offering to make you dinner one day. Perhaps you arrive early, and he asks if you'd like to help him prepare it. (The intimacy of cooking together, Jamil instructing you on a recipe that only he and his family members know) Once it was done and served, you both would sit down to eat, Jamil waiting for you to have the first bite.

Any compliment you give it will have a sense of pride bursting in his chest, a small smile coming to his face. He's radiating with satisfaction as you both enjoy your meal, promising to cook for you again some other time. He already has the next recipe in mind ♡

(It's up to you whether Yuusha knows the importance of the meal, as I can see Jamil either trying to be subtle and downplay it, or him simply saying it's a family recipe and having you figure out the significance of that on your own)

Thank you! ♡

SHEEPPPP I WAS ACTUALLY SOOBBINGGF

MY BRAINNNN ALHDKSJSJSJSKSBXJS THIS IS SO CUTE I WENT FERAL

i love this headcanon and i’m keeping it in my mind forever and this reminded me of my silly comic from a while ago

his cooking being basically a love language overall is so AGH and trusting you enough to share with you something that is very important to him???

i’m positively GNAWING on this so much

anyways i literally couldnt help it i may or may not have spent all day working on this with yuusha and jamil’s dynamic hdkshdjss

So. Care to finally tell me what this is?

It's a Viper Family recipe.

Oh, no wonder. Do you only serve it on special occasions? I don't think I've had it during any Scarabia parties.

Of course you haven't. This is your first time. And we don't serve these recipes outside of the Viper Family household.

Oh, that sucks.

After Yuu took another bite, the implication of Jamil sharing this meal with her just hit her in the head that she almost spat out what was in her mouth in surprise.

Yuu and Jamil gave each other a knowing look. The prefect saw that the vice housewarden had a flushed look on his face as he tried to cover it up by sipping casually from his bowl.

Yuu was silent as she tried to rack her brain around what he just said.

Jamil attempted to look unbothered but his slightly shifting eyes and darkened cheeks had betrayed him.

So, do you… understand what this means?

Oh, Yuu definitely understood. It was making her feel flustered, giddy perhaps—happy that Jamil thought of her that way. Enough to consider her…

No. Oh, no. Jamil was making her say it. Oh, she was not going to let her do his work for him.

... I don't, Jamil. I would love for you to explain it to me.

Touché. Jamil thought as he set his utensils down with a sigh. Jamil also thought that he could decide to feign ignorance back but he knew it would be fighting fire with fire.

So might as well be direct.

Yuu, I…

(idk i’m out of juice) (plus i do love me some uncertain endings sometimes)

[syoounn]

• Chuuya, Fyodor, Nikolai with a s/o who have brain tics!

Requested by: @paniatheweirdone

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Chuuya

Chuuya has been really protective over you. He doesn't like seeing you uncomfortable, he would always shows you with affection and telling things that make you feel more comfortable and confident about yourself. He wants you to be more comfortable around him. What's only on his mind is what's good and comfortable for you. And he definitely understands when you were having a hard time with physical contact, yet you have to always make sure to assure him cause sometimes he gets insecure and lonely since he always wanted to be feel held and loved.

Scenario

You and Chuuya were relaxing while he looked at you. A random question came to your mind on what chuuya thinks of you having tics? You were bothered by this as you asked him.

"Chuu.. you know i have tics right..?"

“I know, Doll.” He chuckles softly, and looking at you with gentleness. “You also know I ain’t mind ‘em none.” He said smiling.

"Hmmm really?" You said.

“Aye, really.” He smiled, as he loose strand of your hair softly and carefully. “Tics don’t take away from how beautiful you really are, Doll.” He said smiling.

“Besides…it’s just some small things about ya. Nothing that ain’t gonna change how much I love you, anyways.”

You were touched by his words.. and of course, you know how much he loves you, as he always makes sure you feel it and always assures you that he loves the way you are. You then hugged him tightly and smiled, looking like you've fallen to him even more.

You wanted to give something to him... and of course, you wanted to make him feel what he always makes you feel too. As you leaned closer to hugged him, he was surprised and melt into your embrace as he carefully hugged you back and kissed your forehead.

"I love you, doll.. So don't even think of letting yourself down, " He said while both of you shared your warm embrace. He wanted to stay like this forever.. as you do too.

Fyodor

When Fyodor's finds out about that, he's rather become more possesive after all you're his and he don't seem have a problem about that yet he finds adorable and the way you were showing your weakness and imperfection makes him feel superior as he was in charge of you. Therefore, he doesn't like the way you were sometimes hesitant about physical contact, and therefore, he understood as long as you were aware that you've given yourself to him. He wanted you to be his and only his... and he always makes you clear about that.

Scenario

You peeked over to his what was he doing.. you know he hates to bothered but your curiosity is eating you slowly. You were quite and not so sure of what's he's going to say, but he never showed any negative about your condition.

You went to face him as you hust hoped he's not busy.

"Hmm.. Something wrong Myshka..?" He said and looking at you carefully as it was reading you.

"Nothing really.. just...." You were hesitant to say it as he spoke.

"Is it about your condition?" He said, as expected... he knows you and able to read you very well.

His smile grows into a sly grin as he moves around you in a slow circle, his purple eyes appraising every inch of your body. "You know my answer to that, dear. Tics only serve to make you an even more desirable creature. Your flaws and imperfections are all the reasons why i wanted you, you know."

He slowly get closer to you as runs his hands across your shoulders, chuckling softly. "I believe I made myself clear when we met, my love. Your oddities are all the things that make you so unique, so captivating." Suddenly, his hand moves to your cheek, and he pulls your chin up so he can look down at you from a higher perspective. "You're lucky I'm rather fond of these peculiarities otherwise… He lets his words hang in the air, his gaze sharp and his voice laced with teasing.

You were not surprised but you were kind relieved you say... He's still a scary man as you think about it.. but that does not stop from you loving eachother.

He brings his hand to your hair, running his fingers through it softly. "However, I do believe I am growing increasingly annoyed with the fact that you continue to ask me this same question over and over again, just to seek praise."

You were surprised by that.. however he was not wrong about that...

"Hhm.. sorry.. i was just curious.." You said sounded apologetic and shy.

He remains silent as he runs his thumb along your right temple. Curious and persistent, hmm? An almost cruel smile curves his lips as he moves his thumb away and starts to run his hand through your hair again. "Maybe it's about time I start punishing your naughty behaviour."

That scary smile of him makes you really nervous... but as you just think it was half worth it to ask him that.

Nikolai

Nikolai would adore you.. and he doesn't really care of you having it, but he gets annoyed that you don't give him much physical contact since he's a very touchy person and always wants to be held. Nikolai is playful as sometimes trying to sneak up to you to hug you.. and he knows when is the right time to do that. He doesn't want you to make you uncomfortable that much. Therefore, he's obsessive when it comes to you.. he would never let go of someone so rare, adorable condition like you.

Scenario

After your condition has strike earlier.. Nikolai staring at you softly as it makes you embarrassed as you spoke.

"Hmm.. sorry you have to see that" You said.

Nikolai pauses for a moment, he looks at you for a bit before letting out a chuckle.

“You’re cute when they happen, even if they do get a bit annoying sometimes.” He teases you.

"Annoying..?" You said with curiosity.

He then looked at you, frowning playfully.

"I won't get to hold you or hugged you... or kissed you.." He added.. as he smiled “But you're the ticciest and cutest person I know. I really never noticed, just makes it more adorable... like a cute dove struggling to fly.. makes you even want you more.."

He said sounded serious in that part.. which makes you nervous a litte. He looked at you and his expression has no longer filled with playful look.

“Yes..." He chuckled "It’s adorable. Everything you do is adorable... so that's why you're mine dove.." he said as he whispered to words on your ear and kissed your cheek, as he quickly changed into his playful expression again and changing the topic.

“So? Guess what I did today!”

You were completely baffled on what just happened... it's really hard to predict what was Nikolai was thinking as you let out a sigh as you just smiled.. you were glad he didn't think of anything bad on your condition... but you were still worried of what he just said earlier tho...

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[gateau-au-earl]

kuroshitsuji s4e1/ED thoughts

ok yall now that it has been over 24 hrs and I've seen the ep over three times, I have THOUGHTS. mostly very positive, everything was beautful to look at and the 1:1 comparisons between the manga and the anime made me very happy as a veteran kuro fan that had to live through the mess of s1 and s2 plots (even tho they might have a sentimental place in my heart just because of nostalgia).

but i wanted to come on here and yap about the ending theme and how it encapsulates sebastian and ciel's complicated and very interesting relationship. idk abt yall but im a big fan of the op and ed this season!

first things first just to get this outta the way, I dont interpret them as a ship so please dont come in here with that interpretation 👁️ I'm serious .

that being said -

the ending theme is beautiful in both its animation and what it says about the butler and earl's relationship. I'm just gonna get the gushing outta the way first but it was aesthetically GORGEOUS in its animation. the way ciel fell so gracefully and the colors with SID's music is cinematic perfection. the change in animation style is very easy on the eyes as well! gg cloverworks animation team!

this has been marinating for a while, but what really gets me is the scene where ciel falls. he is falling into darkness, when it suddenly becomes lighter, with the sun illuminating the clouds. sebastian "saves" him and they fall together across this very pretty backdrop.

the demon might've caught him, but that doesn't prompt him to rescue ciel, to stop him from falling to his death.

sebas instead gently takes ciel's hand to guide him there. he gives ciel a false sense of security, of trust, catching the boy when he's at his darkest place, but instead of saving him, he drags him to down to his hell. he is deceiving ciel with a beautiful view and promises in their contract that will ultimately hurt ciel. its cruel and will only lead to pain for our earl.

sebas is a demon (obviously) who is leading ciel to his doom, but the path they take is twisted and tragic but strangely beautiful like the gorgeous sky in the ED.

ciel enjoys the power and omnipotence he has with sebastian, knowing full well the demon is leading him to his demise. he knows that this relationship will end him being sebastian's dinner. ciel knows he can't trust sebas, but does anyways because sebas is the only person who can't hurt him until he inevitably does.

the fall might result in an ugly death, but the view is pretty nice on the way down. the beautiful sky colored with deception, manipulation and misplaced trust.

yeah, sebastian will end up hurting ciel the most at the end, but the boy doesn't care at the moment. sebas is the only ""person"" who knows him with all the ugliness of his past, yet still protects him, serves him, and doesn't treat him like a helpless creature. so ciel is forced to place trust in a fundamentally untrustworthy creature knowing he is inches away from the demons bared fangs.

sebastian helps him survive his living hell now and get what he needs to get done, so he doesn't care what happens after. his descent to darkness becomes much more beautiful as a result.

shippers may have one interpretation (which I'm NOT a fan of...), but this is how I see it, and I think it makes this ending all the more impactful and tragic. but here I am, and I'm enthralled by the beauty and can't look away.

anyways, thanks for reading my brain dump, and looking forward to ep 2 folks!!! hope yall liked my micro analysis/semi organized gushing, and r enjoying this kuro renaissance as much as I am! here's a professor michaelis for reading this far

[borom1r]

WAILING @theshakespearetrash sent me 2 ask memes for Boromir asks (who is very much Not my OC skfhshfjjs but I will Always do character analysis I love character analysis so much. rotating him so fast in my brain. microwaving him on high)

+ not to be a kinnie on main (voice of a man who is always a kinnie on main) but I will be answering these all w/ a sort of Boromir-lives scenario in mind -w-

anyways ask meme 1 + ask meme 2

1. What memory would your OC rather just forget?

ok I feel like it’s the cop-out answer to say “his fall to the ring” but I feel like Boromir is the sort of person to.. not like stew on things but very much takes the stance of “good or bad, all my choices got me to the current moment and made me who I am.” + I feel like there’s so much tangled up in his fall completely beyond his control where that’s the only memory that he’d like. actively want to erase from his mind

2. What's something about your OC that people wouldn't expect just from looking at them?

HM. good with kids. I think unless you’d seen him with Faramir/his cousins when they were younger you wouldn’t guess (he’s a soldier and a very plain man when he’s not putting on a show for his father), but he’s just genuinely great with kids

3. What is your OC's fatal flaw? Are they aware of this flaw?

loves too much + quick to lose hope. painfully aware of this

4. When scared, does your OC fight, flee, freeze or fawn?

fight response. 100% the kind of man who gets kicked out of a haunted house for punching a scareactor even though he knew a scare was coming. Faramir and Aragorn have both almost gotten throttled bc they unintentionally snuck up on him

5. How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?

OOO. When He Is Of Sound Mind, not actually very far. he was raised with the knowledge he would be giving his life to Gondor, whether he died in battle or sat on the throne as steward. add to that the act he puts on for Denethor, everything he does to protect Faramir— he’s a man born to serve. his own wants come last

6. How easily could your OC be convinced to do something that goes against their moral compass?

it would take. a DESPERATELY long time and an almost complete degradation of his mental state. Boromir arrives in Rivendell in October 3018, and the very next day is the Council, at which point he sees the ring and is IMMEDIATELY influenced by it. yet he doesn’t fully fall to it until the end of February 3019. he’d been fighting its pull for almost four whole months by the time he does anything malicious. resisting the One Ring for FOUR MONTHS. <- reasons why if I see someone call Boromir weak for falling to it I will see red.

7. What's one way your OC has changed since you first came up with them?

teehee obviously again Boromir is not my OC so I will take this as an excuse to Be A Kinnie + say, I do remember Boromir being returned to us sometime after my coronation. so that’s one way my memories differ from canon, which is sort of an answer to this prompt snfjsjfj

8. Would your OC ostensibly be able to get away with murder?

OH YEAH. I mean yeah if we’re talking like actual criminal murder and not just Slaying People On A Battlefield like. yeah 100% he would IF he was within Minas Tirith. you know Denethor would do everything in his power to cover that up lmfao

9. Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC?

YEAH YAYYYY I GET TO MAKE MORE PPL LISTEN TO CROM AND BARONESS!!!!

anyways “have you ever seen a man so strong have you ever seen a man so great when he fights time stands still and everything seems so unreal but deep inside of him this man is torn” what if I bit things about this song

+ also listening to Magnolia and Shock Me by Baroness with Aragorn/Boromir in mind makes me ill. im Unwell.

10. What's an AU that would be interesting to explore with your OC?

HMMMMM The Frankenstein Chronicles gave me brain worms so I might write a Frankenstein-inspired thing at some point. sth sth consequences of divine resurrection

11. What is your OC's weapon of choice? Have they ever actually used it?

RAAAAGH. AUTISM TIMEEEEE.

Boromir uses a hand-and-a-half arming sword (meaning it’s balanced for single or double-handed use, with a crossguard). it’s a really elegant sword, very simple and utilitarian. speaks to an adaptable combat style as well. but, interestingly? Boromir carries a Rohirric shield, and if you notice Rohirric swords don’t actually HAVE crossguards the way Gondorian blades do. this tracks, and was common with Roman and early Germanic swords— BECAUSE these cultures were Also relying on shields for blocking.

and an additional note, Faramir’s sword is single-handed. so we’ve got a ranger who prefers the use of a bow and hasn’t experimented much with his sword combat, and his brother who prefers a sword and carries a very versatile blade with 1) a Rohirric shield and 2) a ranger’s vambraces designed to protect his arms from a (nonexistent) bowstring. I just find Boromir’s mix of protective gear so interesting, esp if you consider he and Théodred as at LEAST friends. like Boromir carries so much of the people he cares for with him into strange lands even when he (arguably) has little need for such gear

12. Is your OC self-destructive? In what ways?

yes and no. I think, not consciously? but he absolutely values himself lower than the people he cares for. he goes to Rivendell to keep Faramir out of danger, he takes multiple arrows to the chest and keeps fighting to defend Merry and Pippin. I think if there’s a risk of someone he loves getting hurt, all self-preservation goes out the window

13. If you met your OC, would the two of you get along?

oh I would be staring at him like a predatory animal and trying to psychically convince him to lay on me in full armor

14. How does your OC want to be seen by other characters?

HGH. ok I don’t think he necessarily. does?? and this is generally a Silly Little Headcanon bc of a comment a Most Beloved Friend made abt how everyone gets their autism from their dad (real+true) + now in my head “haha Faramir got his autism from Boromir instead” BUT. like genuinely I don’t think Boromir has an actual image of himself in his head or like processes that ppl perceive him, necessarily. and particularly when his father is holding him up as this aspirational figurehead for Gondor, like… I think he’s just himself, in his head. idk how to describe it well for the neurotypical ppl in the room snfskfjs sorry. like I don’t process myself as having Traits so ppl tell me they think I’m cool or funny or they enjoy being around me and it’s always like “!!! oh!” + I think Boromir is the same way. I think Faramir could describe Boromir to him + Boromir would just be like. “huh.”

15. Does your OC have a faceclaim? If so, who?

it’s Sean Bean + it will always be Sean Bean. sorry other Boromirs you simply pale in comparison

16. What is your OC's pain tolerance like?

VERY high by necessity. he’s a soldier he’s absolutely patched up his own injuries before, at least to hold over until he could see an actual healer

17. What is the worst thing you have put your OC through story-wise?

ahh. I wrote a very personal fic exploring self harm urges w/ Boromir, so I suppose that

18. Is your OC more cold and detached or up close and personal?

very personable, when he’s of sound mind sndnsj

19. How does your OC behave when enraged?

oh he’s a silent anger type for sure. just seethes quietly. hello, consequences of spending time in an environment where you have no actual outlet for your anger + must simply sit there and Stew.

20. Does your OC have a tendency to get jealous? If so, how does this manifest?

again, When He’s Of Sound Mind, no. the man’s got a big heart and life’s too short to be petty

21. Does your OC have any illnesses or disorders? How do they handle it?

hitting him with the autism beam bc I can. I do also think he’s lost at least partial use of his arm in a Boromir Lives scenario, considering where the first arrow struck him

22. What character alignment would you consider your OC to be?

HMMM neutral good. he’s not chaotic enough to be.. chaotic (lol), and I think he’s too willing to go against Gondorian Popular Opinion to be lawful.

23. What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express?

HMMMMM pain, actually. or “weakness.” I think if he can quantify it in his head as “showing weakness” then it’s getting stuffed in a mental box and Not Addressed

24. What is an alternative life path your OC might have gone down? How different would their life be if they'd made those decisions?

ok well. None. I think with his circumstances he had zero choice in his path. HOWEVER. I am deeply DEEPLY fond of Boromir learning how to play an instrument after the war ends. I STILL struggle to blow my wassail horn that shit takes SKILL that I do not currently have and Boromir was the BEST at blowing his horn?????? I think he deserves to learn how to play an instrument, esp bc Aragorn, Merry and Pippin would ALL be delighted to have Boromir play while they sing. Boromir learning hobbit folk songs????? Rohirric songs, to honor Théodred?? yeagh.

25. What is your favorite thing about your OC?

HES SO. FUNDAMENTALLY LOVING. love is such a core aspect of his character he is so wholly loving that the ring has NO CHOICE but to try to twist that love. bc it’s all Boromir has. love. im going to throw up abt him.

AAAAAAAAAND:

alone: How does your OC deal with loneliness? Have they ever been completely alone before? How do they act when there's no one around to see them?

has he ever BEEN completely alone? mm, no. has he ever felt that isolated? I think absolutely, by the time the fellowship leaves Caras Galadhon. obviously he doesn’t deal with it well el oh el.

as for how he acts when no one’s around to see him… I don’t think much changes, tbh. he’s not the kind of man to Perform for anyone except his father, and then with the express purpose of placating the man and keeping his ire towards Faramir to a minimum

betrayal: Has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? Has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them?

been betrayed? hm. truthfully, no, though I’m certain he felt betrayed by Aragorn’s reluctance to be anything resembling a king.

has He betrayed someone? Technically Yes, though again, if we apply the qualifier of “When He’s Of Sound Mind” the answer is no. his betrayal comes under the influence of a Malicious Magical Artifact Which Has Been Fucking With His Mind For Months, so.

bound: Has your OC ever been imprisoned or captured? What happened? How did they get out? Did the experience leave any scars?

ooo, hm. I think not, actually, though it is a fun little idea for angst

break: What would cause your OC to break down completely? What do they look like when that happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest?

gestures wildly at canon. I mean that’s his lowest. we’ve all seen it.

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

again, canon— to see his people safe. he’s very open with that desire, lol

failure: What's your OC's greatest failure? Have they been able to move past it? Does anyone else know about it?

AH. canon again. though what he does to move past it… mm. quite a lot of atonement, I think. perhaps of the self-destructive, working-himself-too-hard variety. I do think speaking with Faramir about *his* experience with the ring would help, because Boromir is the first to hold Faramir up as this sort of paragon of Goodness. so I think to know *Faramir* was tempted would help him better ground his experiences as, like…. Not A Deep Moral Failure Exclusive To Himself

fear: What is your OC's greatest fear? What do they do when confronted with it? Are they open with their fear, or do they hide it away?

ehehe. this is one thing I’ve touched on in a Faramir-centric fic, but the idea that the ring showed Boromir visions of Faramir dying at Denethor’s hand should he fail to return with the ring.

had Boromir lived to discover Denethor had nearly burned Faramir alive…… Mmmm. mmmmmmmm.

future: What's the worst possible future for your OC? Are they taking steps to avoid that outcome? Are they even aware it's a possibility?

worst possible? if he’d actually managed to claim the ring. I shan’t elaborate -_-

ghost: Who or what haunts your OC? What happened? How do they live with their ghosts?

MM. his own actions. dead friends, dead loved ones. though if you mean literally, haunts him, I do like to think that Théodred’s Oðr pays Boromir a visit every now and again

guilt: What is your OC guilty about? How do they handle their guilt? Do they try to avoid guilt, or do they accept it?

see above. handles it?? mm. atonement, again. direct action. he accepts it and does what he can to make it right

hate: What does your OC hate? Why? How do they act towards the object of their hatred?

HATE? Orcs, probably. Sauron. that tentacle motherfucker outside Moria. he’s not a hateful man, so. shrugs.

heartbreak: Have they ever had a relationship that ended badly? Experienced some other kind of heartbreak? What happened?

that ended badly in the interpersonal sense? mm, unlikely. more ended badly in the “somebody fucking died” sense.

I do think he had One (1) fledgling romance in Dol Amroth that ended with the other squire dying and that was sort of the catalyst for “ah. If I love people they’ll Probably Die, so maybe I won’t do that” baggage that he didn’t really unpack until, I think, Théodred. add the additional layers of Denethor Being Denethor and Boromir having such great standards to live up to…. with all the love in my heart, that relationship only happened bc Théodred saw Boromir, went “I need to fuck that Gondorian so bad it makes me look stupid” and proceeded to work his way through 1700 layers of gondorian mental bullshit just so he could suck some dick (me too bestie)

hide: What does your OC hide? Why do they hide it?

hm. my first instinct is to say “not much” but ultimately I think he’d hide anything he can quantify as “weakness.” his own distress, any physical pain if he needs to be up and moving, etc. he’s only able to share that earnest moment with Aragorn in Caras Galadhon bc of Galadriel’s influence. he’s not used to being seen. so, if there is sth that would hold him back from fulfilling his duty as a soldier it is absolutely getting hidden/ignored.

hunt: Who or what is your OC hunted by? A person, a feeling, a past mistake? Is your OC able to let their guard down, or are they constantly alert?

hm. not necessarily Hunted, but I do think he is followed by Denethor’s expectations. it’s sth I’ve talked abt in another ask + that I go into in the costuming doc but such a key element of Denethor’s design is his son’s motifs but Richer, Grander. so… I do think Boromir is constantly alert of, like, how his father will perceive him, bc there is this very insidious sort of competition, this need for Denethor to show his sons up (whether a conscious need or not). and I do think that would weigh on Boromir quite heavily

mask: Does your OC wear a mask, literally or figuratively? What goes on beneath it? Is there anyone in their life who gets to see who they are under the mask?

mm again I think he only really wears a mask/performs for Denethor. anyone else would be too much effort for too little reward. at least if he plays Golden Son for his father, it keeps Faramir from being harassed as much

however, as for who gets to see him when he’s.. not just unmasked but actually RELAXED… Faramir, his uncle and cousins, Théodred, Aragorn, the others in the fellowship but particularly Merry and Pippin

midnight: What keeps your OC up at night? Do they have nightmares? Fears? Anxieties? What do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping?

does he have nightmares? oh definitely. what he does in the small hours of the night? depends. if he’s on campaign/traveling/otherwise away from Minas Tirith he will either lay there in his bedroll and Think (bad) or get up and write letters. depends entirely on where he’s stationed/who he’s with. if he Is at home in Minas Tirith, I expect he just goes for a walk + looks at the sky

mistake: What's the worst mistake your OC ever made? What led to them making it? Have they been able to fix it? How have they moved on?

I think I’ve pretty much answered all of this above, so skfjsjdh

monster: Is your OC monstrous in any way? Is there something that makes them monstrous? Are they aware of their own monstrosity? Do they accept it or reject it?

nah, he’s not ❤️‍🩹

nightmare: What does your OC have nightmares about? How do they deal with their nightmares? Do they tell people, or keep it to themself?

answered w midnight for the most part— I’ll just add that no, he wouldn’t really talk about his nightmares. that requires showing vulnerability lol. I think Théodred and Aragorn are the only two who could coax him into speaking about his nightmares/fears (he wouldn’t want to burden Faramir with such nonsense)

pain: What's the worst pain your OC has ever felt? Do they have a high pain tolerance?

answered sorta (yes he has a high pain tolerance) but worst pain? gonna go with three orc arrows to the chest

secret: What's one secret your OC never wants anyone to know about them?

HMMMM again I don’t think there are many secrets. I do think if Denethor found out he liked men it would be disastrous

skin: How comfortable is your OC in their skin? Do they grapple with anything that lives inside them—a beast, a curse, a failure, a monster? How do they face the smallest, weakest, most horrible version of themself? Are they able to acknowledge it at all?

hm. I think he’s generally at ease with himself, or at least content with Not Thinking About These Things. I think, had he directly survived the arrows, he would have to grapple with like. the idea that he did prove Aragorn’s fears about men correct (whether Aragorn would agree with him or not)

torture: Has your OC ever been tortured? Would your OC ever torture someone else?

Four Months Of Slow Mental Degradation Due To An Accursed Magical Artifact!!!!! 🎉🎉🎉

(no he wouldn’t torture anyone else)

wound: How does your OC handle being wounded? Are their wounds mostly physical? Mental? Emotional? What's the worst wound your OC has ever experienced?

hm. He would say mostly physical wounds. I’d argue a mix of both. he’ll accept as much care as he needs to stay on his feet and fighting. worst wound is definitely still arrows lol

[elisela]

you’re my only hope sterek, 1k, thanksgiving fluff

--

“Turkey hotline, this is Derek.”

“Derek!” Stiles says, looking frantically around the kitchen, phone shoved between his ear and shoulder. “I know that usually you’re supposed to thaw the turkey for days but last night I was nominated as the place to go for everyone who didn’t have a place to go and all the store had was a fifteen pound frozen solid turkey and I’ve left it out since I bought it but the damn thing is still frozen solid and I’m supposed to serve it in four hours. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

The wooden spoon he’d been looking for is balanced on the open refrigerator door. He snatches it up and spins to stir the gravy, the only thing he could think to make ahead of time that Lydia won’t kill him for nuking in the microwave right before dinner.

“You can cook it from frozen. It’ll take longer, about five hours, but serve some drinks and your friends will be fine waiting.”

Stiles looks at the compound butter he’d gotten—he can read recipes, thank you, he’s just in a panic—and frowns. “What am I supposed to do about, you know, seasoning?”

“Pull it after two hours and season it then. You’ll have to baste it, but you’ll be okay.”

“Great,” Stiles says, then curses when he realizes he’d laid his dish towel too close to the burner and it’s smoking. “Thanks!”

-----

“Turkey hotline, this is Derek.”

“This isn’t a turkey question, is that okay?”

The voice that comes through the line sounds almost amused. “We’re here to answer all of your Thanksgiving dinner related questions.”

Stiles taps the pie pan on the counter. He’s unsure if it’s necessary, but he’s seen people do it to regular cakes on YouTube, so why not? “Dangerous,” he says, “because I have a lot of questions. Like—why? How is this the thing you want to spend your time doing on your holiday? What are your qualifications, anyway? Because for all I know you could be making shit up, but I have to admit the turkey is no longer frozen solid under your possibly-sound advice. Which leads me to: can I bake a cheesecake at the same time as a turkey? The oven’s at 375 if that makes a difference.”

“If that—you shouldn’t be cooking your turkey at 375!”

Derek sounds affronted, and Stiles would find that cute—at least he finds his semi-outraged voice cute because for God’s sake, it’s a turkey—but he doesn’t have the time. “The cheesecake, Derek. Can I do the cheesecake at the same time?”

“Not unless you’re good with soggy turkey skin. The steam from the water bath will affect it too much.”

Stiles frowns. “Yeah, the … water bath,” he says, and hopes it doesn’t sound like he has no idea what he’s doing. “What if I don’t mind soggy turkey skin?”

“You mind soggy turkey skin,” Derek says firmly, and Stiles laughs.

----

“Turkey hotline, this is Derek.”

“Seriously, you’ve been at this for three hours,” Stiles says, because he had fully expected to get someone else on the line. Unless Derek is the sole employee—volunteer? He has no clue—he should have gotten someone else by now.

“Try eight,” Derek says. “Please tell me you turned the turkey down.”

“I’d feel bad lying to you,” Stiles says, grinning. “So it turns out I forgot the rolls, and I have a box of pancake mix but it says I need eggs, which I don’t have because I used them all in the cheesecake. Help me, Obi Wan, you’re my only hope.”

There’s a pause, and Stiles has a moment to hope he hasn’t broken Derek’s brain before he finally replied. “Oh, you’re thinking about making biscuits.”

“That’s what I said,” Stiles says, poking at the cheese sauce for his hopefully tolerable mac and cheese.

“You did not, but you don’t need eggs. Or pancake mix. Google a recipe for drop biscuits and so help me do not bake them at the same time as the turkey.”

“Aww, you know me so well, boo,” Stiles coos, and flips off the burner. “Why do you do this, anyway?”

“So people like you don’t give your friends and family food poisoning,” Derek says. “You’re safe, by the way, if you keep roasting the turkey at 375. It’ll be charred.”

“Drama queen,” Stiles mutters, and then puts his foot in his mouth by asking, “you’re not too busy cooking your own dinner?”

“My family’s across the country,” Derek says after just a moment. “My sister usually made dinner for us and her friends, but she just got married so she’s with his family.”

“Sucks, dude,” Stiles says, cursing when the doorbell rings. “Gotta go. Hopefully Scotty brought the alcohol or I’m gonna have a riot when they learn the food’s not ready. Thanks again.”

He hangs up, pauses, and calls right back.

“Turkey hotline, this is Derek.”

“Derek,” Stiles says, “you should come over here. We’ve got plenty of food. Some of it even edible, thanks to you.” He gives him his address before he loses his nerve, adds in a few key landmarks he’s near just in case, and hangs up before Derek can respond.

---

Lydia looks at him suspiciously when the bell rings, glancing around the room like she’s mentally counting the people in it and wondering who the hell else Stiles knows that’s not currently in the room, which, rude, but he’ll deal with that later.

Or not. He probably won’t bring it up at all, because she would have been right if he hadn’t been calling the turkey helpline all day, and he doesn’t want to get into it.

For now he sidesteps Scott, who had been helpfully on his way to the door, straightens his shirt, and flings it open.

Holy good Jesus.

He probably gapes—not his most attractive look, but he can’t be blamed when the man standing on his front porch is the literal definition of perfection. “Hi,” he manages to say, “Derek?”

It’s probably not Derek. It’s probably Jackson’s new boyfriend checking up on him, or a neighbor ready to yell at him for taking up so many parking spaces with his guest’s cars, or—

“I never caught your name,” the man says, and it’s Derek’s voice, it’s Derek, and Stiles is still standing like an idiot half-hanging out the door.

“Stiles,” he says, and waves a hand automatically to brush off the inevitable question. “I’m glad you came. Come in, come in.”

Derek’s shrugging out of his leather jacket, and if Stiles wasn’t already formulating ideas to make Derek fall in love with him, he certainly is the moment it comes off and reveals a soft looking maroon sweater underneath it. “Well, you said I was your only hope. Come on, Skywalker, show me your kitchen.”