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lilacxquartz · 2 months ago

Text

sleepy nostalgia;

yandere bill cipher x gn!reader

plot: bill could never let you go, not even in your dreams and this time, he gets you to crack — a/n: this fic is a follow up from a kinktober entry :) via request, hope you like it! thank you for giving me an excuse to write villains haha — themes: dubcon, yandere, gender neutral reader, smut, oral (receiving), bullying, manipulation, dreamscapes — w.c: ~3k • masterlist • < previous part • ao3 ✮⋆˙

Ever since that one dream had reminded you once again of his existence, you tried to avoid sleeping however much you could. On the worse-off nights, you’d drink yourself to sleep, so that you’d at least not remember the interactions or you would prioritise some old sleeping pills, knowing that they’d have you out like a light and off to an uneventful rest.

Try as you might, however, you couldn’t avoid dreaming forever and found yourself regrettably plunged into an unreal world. It was sudden and imposing too, quickly taking away what was just a moment of shut eye and sending you off into a deceptively calm meadow. Just as soon as you figured something was off though, it morphed into a shadowy hellscape, the once soft grass melting into a scalding black tar, pulling you down and fusing you into place.

The air around you shifted and the atmosphere changed into something univiting, yet dreadfully familiar. The realisation was clear; this was going to be a dream to remember and he was in control of it.

“Oh shit, shit, shit,” you frantically whispered, your eyes darting around to search for an out, knowing fully well that there couldn’t have realistically been one, not if he orchestrated this whole thing.

You knew this place—it was where you had first made that deal with him that trapped you in this whole mess to begin with—it was never a peaceful place in the field. Your dream tricked you. He tricked you. Confining you to a temporary prison where you lacked control, held down by an oppressive reality that wasn’t even your own; where the rules could be bent and broken per his every whim, and just as you were in the midst of losing yourself to your thoughts, he appeared.

“Well, well, well,” his voice cut into your ears, echoing sharply through the silence like an unwelcome symphony. You grimaced as you were forced to face Bill once more, watching him blink and fade into view.

You shook your head as he drifted closer, trying to move away as fast as you could react, but the tar kept you solidified in place. “No, no, no—”

“If it isn’t my favourite human,” he continued on, his voice bursting with arrogance, “did you miss me? Because I… sure… missed… you! I bet you have had so much fun avoiding me this whole time, keeping me in the dark like that, but I couldn’t let you get away with that forever. Oh, no, no.”

“N-not again,” you sighed, already anticipating the worst. “I thought that I could… I thought if… that…” you trailed off, trying to justify your attempted escape from him, knowing that that it was already fruitless.

“That you could what? Escape me in the real world?” Bill asked, completing your poor attempt to hold together a single sentence. He floated closer to you, slightly growing in size so that he could loom over you, making you feel small and helpless. “You should know by now that all these silly ‘attempts’ of you playing hard to get would never throw me off of you,” he added in a cold, venomous tone as if offended by your attempts to do such a thing, “and besides, look at you now, all you’ve done is tire yourself out. Good thing I’m here for you in such dire times, huh? I could help you truly relax, you know.”

“But… I don’t want you to be here, so get out of my head,” you replied, trying to hold your ground.

Bill could only scoff, twisting his voice to something playful, “Oh wow, somebody’s feeling feisty tonight. I love it!”

“Get out of my head,” you repeated.

Bill suddenly took off his hat, positioning it below him like some sort of makeshift seat, crossing his legs in the process and leaning his elbows on his knees as he silently studied you. “You know I can’t do that. The only reason that I’m in your head to begin with is because you’re thinking about me all the time. That’s how this whole affair of ours works, so why not admit… that you just… simply… miss me?”

“I guess I do think about how much I hate you,” you retorted in response.

“Ouch, ouch! My feelings!” he gasped dramatically, clutching at what might have been his chest, intentionally falling off of his hat chair, before sitting back up and snapping his fingers, bringing you back to the dream that set it all off to begin with. All of a sudden, you were back at home, in your dusty old bedroom, but everything was off. The room was empty expect for the bed, and a sickly sweet smell wafted through the air, like burnt sugar and the tar had since then melted away, leaving you free but with nowhere to go.

Bill then drifted off to your bed, slinking off into a lounging position, tracing the bedsheets with his fingertips and blinking once again directly at you. His voice sounded more menacing somehow as if underlying a real threat beyond his facade of exaggerated whimsy, “You know, you say you hate me, but hate is just a different form of passion, isn’t it? And let me tell you, I’m familiar with both. You wouldn’t be thinking of me or going as far as to letting me appear in your dreams if you didn’t care.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “You’re so fucking delusional.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re angry,” he laughed, his single eye glinting with such amused wonder, “but let’s cut to the chase, shall we? You’re going to give in to me tonight, or else I’m going to figure out a way to make every second of your waking life a living hell.”

Rightfully protesting, you backed away until your body hit the wall, your voice beginning to sound frantic as you remembered just what he put you through last time, “You can’t do that.”

Bill didn’t give you all that much time however to fret however, snapping his fingers once again, forcing the blankets from your bed to fly forward from the mattress and snake their way around your body, holding you in place. You thrashed around, trying to tear free from the makeshift bindings, but the material only tightened.

“Let me go, right now,” you whined.

“Now, now,” Bill purred, calmly floating closer, “why would I do that, huh? I already told you what it would take, so the choice is yours, really.”

“What do you even get out of this?” you fussed, still trying to break free from the duvet that constricted around you.

“A lot of things,” he admitted, “but namely you. You’re… mine, aren’t you? You don’t want to admit it, but you can’t escape the truth–at least not forever,” he loosened the grip on the blankets momentarily, teasing you with a false out, “the real world’s a messy place, oddly enough, too many rules and too many distractions holding us both back from being together. But here…? We can do whatever we’d like, whatever you’d like, even. Just you and me with endless possibilities.”

You listened to his words, feeling him start to get to you, but deep inside, all of your remaining logic and reasoning were still screaming for you to resist him, that he was leading you astray, that he was bad for you. “N-no way. No. I refuse. You don’t own me, so just stop.”

Bill laughed again, tilting your head up so you could face him. “Technically speaking, I actually own everything in this dimension. I can have everything I want, whenever I want it, except for one thing that is…” he trailed off, letting a hint of vulnerability slip through the cracks, although you couldn’t quite tell if it was genuine or not, knowing exactly how he could be.

“Really?” you scoffed again, refusing to give him any sort of satisfaction from seeing you break down for him, even if it all was starting to wane. “You’re wrong if you think that I’ll give in to you. You’re nothing to me.”

For a moment, Bill was silent, as if finally frustrated by your constant refusal but then he burst into a fit of deep laughter, his feet kicking below his form. “Oh, ho, ho! You’ve got quite the backbone in you. I like that – especially when you say such hurtful things. We’re quite alike, you know, and that’s exactly why you should give in, because I’m the only one in your life who knows exactly what you want and how you want it, and let me tell you—your… frustration, for a lack of better words is very apparent.”

Finally starting to break under the pressure, you took the bait like a fool. “W-what do you mean?”

“Oh? Isn’t it obvious?” Bill sang a little, seeming a touch more excited now that he was finally getting somewhere with you. “Tell me, when you try to get yourself off and inevitably fail to do so — do you really think I don’t know when you think of me? I can always tell. I know how easily embarrassed you get though, so I didn’t make a point of letting you know, just so that you wouldn’t turn into the bright red mess that you are turning into right now,” he gestured, referring to your flustered state, “but I know just how much you really ‘hate’ me, which is rich to me… all things considered.”

Unable to reply, you simply looked away, only tensing up when you felt him drift as close to you as possible, returning the cane to where it once was the second time you he touched you the way you wanted him to—pushing at the sex in between your legs, passively twisting and lazily rubbing the cane against your sensitive skin, his eye blank and somehow half-lidded.

“Let’s not forget who’s really in charge here,” he murmured, seemingly pleased by the hot-and-bothered state he quickly got you into, “you can hate me all you want, but by the end of the day, whether you want to admit it or not, you’re mine.”

“I-I’ll never accept it,” you spat back, starting to not quite believe yourself. Were you really this touch starved…?

Bill laughed darkly, dropping the cane to the floor, reaching into your trousers with his hand instead. To your surprise, given his unassuming form, his fingers felt like hard leather, pushing up against your aching arousal, stroking at it in a way that made your thighs clench with building anticipation, your mind screaming for you to not dare to give in.

“We’ve got all night,” he revealed, kneading on your form with almost aching slowness, feeling you grow crazy from such a teasing, yet never lingering touch, “and you’ll give in, I know you will. You can even tell me you hate me all you like but I’ll know what you really mean.”

“I do hate you though,” you replied, feeling yourself coiling within like a barely contained spring, packed and ready to burst forward. The pleasure rose within you humiliatingly fast, evident from your lack of touching—either from others that you refused to let get close to you, or at your own hand, lest you admit something you weren’t ready to think—the more that he rubbed away.

“Yeah, yeah,” he dismissed, working away in between your thighs, watching you begin to tremble only to pull away for a moment, pushing his hands against your legs to retreat a step or two away from you, “you hate me, I get it. You hate me so bad. Hate, hate, hate. It’s all you do.”

For a moment, you didn’t know what to think or feel. You were about to fully come undone and just as that feeling was about to take you over, he stole that anticipated release away from you. You watched him watch you for a moment and in a surge of desperation, you heard words slip out of your mouth that you did everything within your mortal control to hold onto, and yet—!

“D-don’t stop,” you gasped out, immediately stilling, your eyes widening beyond what was humanely possible. Your hands pulled at the confining rags, with the blankets only tightening harder at your weak attempts, forcing you to face him with what you just said.

With what you just admitted.

For a moment, the room went somehow even more silent than it was before. You refused to breathe, even somehow within the shackles of your dream, and Bill’s floating form staring down at you with no hint as to what he could have been thinking.

Bill then, after a while without warning, suddenly clapped his hands once and laughed heartily for a good, long while, his one eye closing in sheer delight of your own admission. “Oh wow, now, this… this is rich,” he continued to cackle, wiping a tear away that he squeezed out, “after all of this time, all of that fighting and resistance, and even just you seconds ago insisting to me that you hate me, and look where you ended up! Finally, you’re being honest with yourself about something. ‘Don’t stop?’ Well, if you’re so sure!”

Immediately backtracking your words, you tried to fight back against him, only for him to cut you off. “W-wait, I mean, I didn’t, I—”

“Admit the three golden words and I’ll make it all better,” he cooed, promising you the release you so desperately craved.

“I-I… guess… I… I need you,” you sighed, drooping your head down in defeat.

You continued to glare at him as you felt tears threaten to spill over, but you couldn’t quite summon the strength to argue back nor deny his words for any longer. HIs eyes gleamed with some sort of sick and manic joy as he lowered himself down even further, settling in between your legs.

“Not to worry though,” he continued to purr, his words taking on a possessive tone as he used his two hands to further spread your thighs apart, “I’m not angry at you for taking your good, sweet time, because it just makes this whole moment all the much sweeter – and don’t worry, I’m going to have such fun taking care of you.”

Not giving you a chance to formulate a reply, he withdrew his hands for a moment, pulling at his bowtie so that it stretched wide across his triangular form. He made a few motions with it, leaving you momentarily confused as to what the hell he was doing, before a set of sharp teeth fell into place, leaving you dumbfounded as he seemed to have shaped himself a mouth.

You blinked, bewildered by the sight.

“I did say that I can do anything in this dimension, didn’t I?” he teased, finding it hilarious how you seemed to recoil in slight fear at the sight of his newly created mouth he talked, his words suddenly animated. “And now,” he said, his voice falling into something darker and much more controlled, “I’m going to show you my appreciation for a change.”

You remained frozen solid as you were pinned tight against the wall with your legs spread wide open, watching with some fear and reluctance as he moved his newly acquired features toward your lower form. Even if this was just a dream, you knew how he was, and he could make you feel excruciating pain if he wanted to and you didn’t want such a thing, even if you would feel better when you woke up again.

Pushing yourself back, you tried to fight back against him with your eyes closing off to seal away the potential unsightly horror, only for you to pause for a moment when you felt something warm and wet push around your sex. Propping one eye open, you paused for another moment, seeing that he was actually trying to give you real, actual pleasure for a change that didn’t feel mocking at all.

“Relax,” he murmured lazily, before returning his long lashing tongue to swirl around your arousal, feeling your stomach tighten and constrict again in that all too familiar way.

Your hands tightened into fists as they attempted to fight back against the now-loose bindings that wrapped around you in their blanketed form, feeling your chest rise and fall with each anticipated flicker of his tongue that whipped and wetly caressed at your tender flesh, before moving in even further and taking more of you into wherever he could reach. You shuddered against his infuriatingly linear form, feeling frustrated that you had nowhere to hold onto for comfort, before he gave you his hand once more—interlocking his soft leathery digits in between your fingers—weaving you into his embrace, squeezing you tight all the while he brought you towards a near-violent end.

You let it slip again as he brought you closer, your words sounding more confident that time—the evil he carried in his being be damned, you liked feeling wanted—you liked being craved, “I need you.”

Such a confession had only intensified his intricate little motions, amplifying the speed of how he made you ache, almost pushing you towards a near-scalding sensation of need as the bliss threatened to boil and spill over, and finally at last, giving way to complete and utter surrender.

With the final point of a peak being met, a hot, sweeping rush radiated throughout your body like crashing waves, ruining the floorboards below with your much-needed release, just about destroying you.

Bill pulled back after a moment, seeming a little different, but ultimately pleased that he finally got to you. He let you hold onto his hand for a moment more, before pulling you into his body that felt once again unwelcoming and linear, before softening it down a notch (as he could very likely read your thoughts), to feel comforting to the touch, letting you sink into him as much as you wanted.

For a while, everything seemed to fade away and then with a jolt, you woke up in a sudden rush in your bed—completely drenched in sweat. It was still dark outside and you were no longer in your old bedroom, but there was still that faint smell that lingered on your senses and it was so sickly sweet.

A bit like burnt sugar.

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