I Love The Idea Of Vox Aftercare And All That Fluff/fluffy Stuff Sm OMGG

I Wanna Hold the Hand Inside You —

728 words,, Velvette x reader

a/n — I got this fic out wayyy later than I wanted because I got so side tracked with that OC shit.

summary — Velvette teaches the reader how to dance.

warnings — cursing(???), I guess??, really nothing, just fluff fluff fluff

“Velvette, oh my god. Stop laughing!” You hiss from across the room

Velvette did, in fact, not even stop to take a breath. She simply kept snorting and giggling at you relentlessly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said through snickers, “It’s just that any old buffoon knows how to dance.”

“Well, I’m not any old buffoon,” you cross your arms and roll your eyes.

“Aw, come on!” Velvette teased, crossing towards you, “No need to pout, darling. It’s cute.”

She didn’t hesitate to take your hands in hers and place them on each side of her hips. 

“Here, let me show you,” She said, queuing up music on her phone, “You pick up a thing or two watching Valentino and Vox fuck around with this shit.”

“Velv, I don’t think you know the challenge you’re getting yourself into, right now,” You joke, but really you were completely serious.

“Bullshit,” she said, “I’ll be damned if I don’t turn you into a great dancer by the end of the night.”

You still look hesitant so she adds, “Don’t worry, i’ll tell you what to do.”

She places her hands on your shoulders and starts to move her hips slightly, leading your hands in the same direction. You take the hint and move your feet.

You’re awkward, though, clumsily swaying side to side with little to no rhythm. Your feet try to follow hers, but you end up stepping on her shoes.

She tries to hide her huff, those shoes took forever to finish and now they’re scuffed.

“No, sweetheart. Find the beat, “ She uses her hands on your chest to push you in the right direction. “Here, follow my feet. Right, then back, then left, then forward.”

“I’m no good at this, Velvette.”

“If you keep complaining, of course not,” she snips, glancing up at you with a quiet reassuring smile. 

She wasn’t good at quiet or comfort so it wasn’t entirely convincing, however you trust in her and followed her steps. 

Finally, Velvette sighed in relief. You were starting to get a hang of it. She reaches further up to comfortably rest her hands on your shoulders.

“Good, darling. Just like that,” she says. 

Your eyes are focused on your feet for one last moment, chanting her instructions under your breath.

At last, you look up at her, falling into a secure rhythmic peace. The room is silent for one moment and you just stare at her.

She looked beautiful, to say the least. And the funny thing is, in any other situation, you would have told her that directly. But it felt wrong to break the peace in that moment; soft music coming from Velvette phone speaker, her gazing up at you adoringly. 

She broke eye contact and moved closer, resting her head on your chest as you both danced. 

After a long moment, and an entire song, she pulls away from you and moves one of her hands off your shoulders, taking yours. 

She lifts it up above her, “Look, now you spin me,” she says, doing the motion.

She spins away from you and looks at you expectantly, “Now, pull me closer and i’ll spin back into you, and then you can—“

Her sentence is cut off with a small yelp as you yank her towards you, making her twirl back into your arms, and dipping her.

“Something like that?” You ask with a proud smile,  gazing down at her.

For a moment, she still looks surprised by your quick motion, but then the smile returns, “Yes, yes, you flirt. Exactly like that.” 

She leans up to kiss you, arms wrapping around your neck. You still clutch onto her waist, grinning into the kiss.

“Okay, okay, get off of me, you big idiot,” she says through a smile, “See? I told you I was right.”

“Yeah, yeah. I guess i’m pretty good at dancing now, right?” you lean away from her and laugh.

“Well, don’t get ahead of yourself. You’re no ballerina, that’s for damn sure,” She takes your hand and leads you away, “Alright, dance lesson over. Let’s watch a movie.”

“Whatever you say, teacher,” and you let her lead you to the couch.

She cozies up and rests her head on your chest as you sling an arm around her, pulling her closer. With that, you finally settle down for the night.

a/n — this fic was inspired by fade into you by mazzy star if it wasn’t incredibly obvious BTW!!

something something save a horse something something

There is a criminal lack of sub!smc on tumblr !! When will we realize that this is an attention seeking brat?

come on people!

Silly request but imagine helping Bill "groom" his triangle self. Gently wipe him with a cloth. Carefully dip it in the little space between the bricks, can't leave that zone unclean! Alternatively, a classic soapy bubble bath. Silly straws included, what the hell, he's probably drinking the bath water and listing the chemical ingredients back at you while you gently rub him clean. Fun times

The Bug Collector

1.1k words,, Bill Cipher x reader

a/n — Procrastination killed my soul during this, I think it turned out okay, though! Sorry for typos, your girl is tired.

warnings — SFW, post!weirdmaggedon, as ‘fluffy’ as you can get with Bill cipher, he is his own warning, kinda toxic relationships, fluff and bill being pathetic

summary — Reader assists a recently fallen Bill Cipher in self care, despite his general all-mighty asshole-ness.

The exoskeleton of a bug was practical, a water-tight barrier most commonly known for muscle attachments, and its use to shelter and protect the insects gushy insides from its harsh environment. 

The exoskeleton of a triangle was for mostly for aesthetics, as the underneath was far more horrifying than anything in the harsh environment around it. Or so the triangle claims.

You dipped a soapy sponge into the bucket in front of you, as bill propped his feet up on the bathtub. 

“You conquer worlds and destroy planets, but yeah, why not draw the line at cleaning yourself.”

“Please, what better way to make use out of my new human pet— partner, than this?” He corrected loudly and purposefully. Then looking to the side, he mumbled, “And besides, kid, you have no idea how hard it is to clean between the bricks. Euck— So many blind spots.”

The first part was a throwaway reminder that he had far more power than you in this dynamic, something you’d picked up on Bill casually doing in his time with you. 

Being roommates with a butt-hurt demon, given the ending of weirdmaggedon, allowed you the privilege of being more cautious than previous humans were with Bill. For example, you’ve taken to keeping track of his repeated habits and patterns. 

On of which, just so happened to be reminding you how small you were compared to him. 

You jabbed the sponge in-between on of the bricks, “Ow!” He narrowed his eye at you, “Watch it, pal. I’m starting to think you’ve never cleaned a triangle before.”

“I’d hate to give that impression.” You softened your hold on him, “Delicate work, I always say.”

And it was delicate work. After his defeat, he’d been roughed up a surprising bit, powers even weakened. 

Weakened.

“Not too delicate,” he shot you glance. Guess he’d heard that thought process. 

Although, most days he’d seemed to be in a thought process of his own. Weird.

You cleared your throat, “How often does this even need to be done?”

He blinked, “Well, let’s see. Once every—“ he waved his hand around “—few hundred years. Very high maintenance, do not recommend it.”

High maintenance, yeah. At this point, Bill had taken to talking about some other topic, you hadn’t been really listening, something about intergalactic food joints.

Every once and a while he’d bring up something that happened with one of his ‘henchmaniacs’ before getting slightly irritated at the lack of presence in his life now, and changing the subject. 

Bill was interesting to study, you couldn’t lie. His eyelashes curled away from each other, like the mangled legs of a recently dead spider. His hands were very present when he talked, like most people of business. His body flicked side to side slightly at certain moments. 

You became more gentle naturally, taking care of every crevice, and for some reason Bill becomes gradually quieter.

“Something wrong?” You asked, not stopping.

Bill blinked, “Eh, been a minute since i’ve had a human servant. Maybe, I was thinking of other things you can help with!”

You sigh, “Yeah, because i’m your servant. As if.” In your mind, your thinking do the fact he was your roommate, in your house, eating your food. 

“Hey, don’t get all butt-hurt. You’re all ants to me, buddy, nothing to be ashamed of!” His eye flicked back and forth between you and the room.

Then you stop scrubbing, “Bill, I might as well be your landlord.” You know he can read your thoughts, so you make a point to justify yourself. Already weakened from his failed apocalypse, anything other than vague respect for you would land him homeless. Most likely, his response to this would be killing you, but there’s only so much he can do afterwards. 

He’d have a place to stay, but with no electricity or heating, and in his damaged physical form he actively does need those things. And trying to get a new human would be a hassle, and unlike you, no guarantee they’d let him stay there without calling the authorities.

“Yeesh,” Bill remarks, “Buzzkill… You are still a bug compared to me, though—“

You drop the sponge in the bucket, “I think you’re done.”

He looks taken aback when you pull away, “What? Come on, over the bug comment? Jeez, buddy—“

“No I mean you’re actually done,” you gesture to his body, now shining and slick with soap suds. “I got everything, there’s nothing else to do.”

You go to turn around before you feel a small hand grabbing for the back of your shirt. 

“Wait, wait!” He breathes, eye flicking from side to side, “… You have to dry me off first.”

He looked slightly panicked, like if you stopped taking care of him now, you’d leave and never come back. Your thought process earlier couldn’t have helped. 

The way he scurried and gasped for you was reminiscent of panicked earwig and a rock is lifted up. The comparison should have grossed you out, but it kinda just made you feel a little bad.

If he was paying attention to your thoughts, he didn’t show it. This would have usually given you the impression he’d wanted you to be thinking the way you were, but he seemed a little wrapped up in his own head. 

“Come on, kid. Don’t tell me you’re gonna kick me out because I asked you to dry me off. One last thing and then you don’t even have to talk to me the rest of the night! Sounds like a good deal, right?” 

His slightly desperate looking sales pitch was met with a sigh, you picked up a dry towel and began to pat the soap suds off of him. His body slowly breathed in, making it look like he was sighing, but no noise came out.

You wondered then if he was actually touch-starved, but cut your thoughts there because this time he had nothing better to do then pay attention to what you were thinking. 

“Ouch, i’m not that desperate, pal.” But he was.

His exoskeleton was dry, but you didn’t stop patting him down. His eyelid shut slowly, and the spider-legs on them curled into each other once more. 

The exoskeleton of a bug was practical, but one of a triangle seemed to simply be for aesthetics. 

However, on some rare occasions, it possesses the same desire for love as human bodies. Only, when very desperate, of course. 

some bill/billford sketches from when i was on the plane yesterday (including my human!bill design :)

tumblr butchered the quality :/

is this anything

not posting tonight because i’m tired so have some leftovers while I work on stanley headcanons and more filthy bill smut

LALALALA what you said about fiddleford is so fucking real. hes so nerdy and cutie for reaaalll :3 i dont think hes the brattiest brat out there (esp when bill exists lmao) but i do think he can be!!

i will also say. everyone who i met who was into computers n tech n machinery was atleast a little bit into being tied up. just putting that out there!!! :)

minors dni, ramble incoming

I feel like wouldn’t be a brat because he just doesn’t strike as someone who has a lot of experience. He’s a country boy with little experience and, most likely, very traditional views. I don’t think he’s entirely vanilla, but he would be very sheltered when it comes to kinks.

Persuading him to try being tied up would be so weird because… why? However, I don’t think he’d be against it. I think he’d be odd about sex before marriage in general, but not opposed to it.

And when you do tie him up and have your way, he’s in absolute shock because he didn’t expect that to feel so good.

I think he’d at first be like “I reckon it’s— it’s the man.. supposed to be doing the leading and— all that.” But it wouldn’t take a lot to break him down, because he didn’t even want to lead anyways.

He’d probably whine more than he’d whimper, but overall I think he’d be very loud his first time. “Oh lord— oh my—“ “My gosh, ah!” “Oh mama!” in a country way not a kinky way though. Less sexy, but lots of weird southern phrases would come out.

Get you a man who moan “Oh, sweet baked potatoes” every now and then. this one’s kinda a joke

i wonder how bill would react to someone wanting him carnally

He’d probably be weirded out and then use it to his advantage. He sees the appeal though.

helloooo surprise it’s the anon who requested Stanford hcs(and who also hates writing dom! male characters lol). Surprisingly, I’m here for Bill!

this is not so much a request as it is me just rambling and being curious about your thoughts, but what do you think of bill going into. . . subspace? is it even possible for him, would anything even be intense enough to get him so submerged into the moment like that? how would he even act? I wonder if he’d even enjoy it, since it could leave him feeling pretty out of control. . . maybe.

I’ll Give You Anything!

summary — subspace!Bill Cipher headcanons and drabbles

a/n — Hi anon! This is such a great question, and i’ve been itching to answer it. Also, feel free to mark yourself with an emoji next time!

⃤ The idea of Bill Cipher going into subspace intrigues me just as much, if not more, as the idea of him subbing in the first place. 

⃤ Let’s start off with the obvious: chances are, if he ever did, you wouldn’t remember.

⃤ To be in such a weak vulnerable state would most likely not be on purpose, so no matter how well you treat him, he’d probably always pluck the memory out of your head. 

⃤ As to whether the idea is even possible, that’s iffy. On one hand, human feelings are watered down sensations to him in the first place, although new and exciting, it’d take a lot to get him to even be a somewhat ‘mess.’ And even then he’d be fully conscious. 

⃤ On the other hand, a human sexual pleasure is probably a foreign and unexplored concept to him, honestly, as well as in his own body—not even sure it’s possible in his normal form—so it’s not crazy to say that certain sensations would have some sort of overwhelming pleasure. 

⃤ Although, even then it’s incredibly unlikely that he’d be submerged in such a deep euphoria, or let his guard down enough to even consider the idea. Even when you’re topping, he’s still a god and you’re not. 

⃤ I think this could change if the reader was a more powerful being. [i’ll elaborate if asked]

⃤ So let’s consider for a moment, what would Bill Cipher in subspace look like?

Mascara smudged from the beads of sweat dripping down his face, mouth stuck in a dreamy dazed smile. Still muttering something, as always, but just a tad whinier than usual, as breathy. 

How long has it been since he’s been taken care of? If he can just pluck the memory afterwards, then why not indulge. He’s earned it. Leaning back and fully whining for you, loudly wanting, no, needing more. 

He grabs for you absentmindedly, trying but failing to take note of the way you react. Surprise? No no.. he can barely tell now. Doesn’t matter as long as you keep doing what you’re doing to him. He thinks he cries something out, but he can’t hear.

New sensations, curiosity plagues him, as well as unsurmountable pleasure, and yet, self respect escapes him. It doesn’t matter now, if he’s still embarrassed after you’ve forgotten, he can always just showcase his power over you. Insurance. 

His mind fogs, and he becomes louder.

“I—i’ll give you anything, worlds, galaxies, the stars, just— ah— keep going!”

“Anything?” You purr.

He almost wishes you’d be able to remember him like this tomorrow. Almost.

Fiddleford always being hard and having at times pre-cum dripping, almost always in public and trying to hide it so bad. He wants to make it stop, but it doesn't work and he didn't want you to notice and think he's a pervert.

He was thinking about what his ma would think if she saw his bodily reactions and didn't want to disappoint her.

-🌌

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

Awwwwww the way this would humiliate him completely. This happening in his college days, he already feels ostracized for being some out of place little farm boy, and now he can’t control his body in public? All just because of you?

He should be ashamed of himself. First Mcgucket to go college and he’s making a fool of himself in public because of a stupid little crush. I’d imagine he’d be hesitant to even ‘take care’ of it in the bathroom because, let’s be honest, he probably doesn’t even have that much experience with jerking off. He’d physically recoil if his little problem starts leaving damp spots on the outside of his jeans.

Imagine finally confronting him about it, pulling off to the side, (a dorm room, bathroom, closet, etc), and teasing him for thinking you hadn’t notice. But don’t poke too much fun or he’ll think you want nothing to do with him. He’s not used to that kind of foreplay, and would be hurt. So simply ask if he wants any help. Of course, you could leave him with his pants on, a new pair, you think. Still, all up in his business as he can’t hold back and he cums, ruining his nice jeans. But he whines, and you’re nice.

Make sure to remark about how wet he is for you. God, this little cowboy would have such a good time.