Work Text:
Ford Gets Some Triangussy
It has been five years since the events of Weirdmageddon. Very few would spare a thought for Bill Cipher in any manner past what’s fleeting. Though perhaps an ignorant few may ponder or fantasize of a variety of outcomes past his defeat, even fewer would know that this very entity is tucked just beyond the realm of plain sight for them. Specifically, he is in a room, on a bed– or, specifically, a pillow to accommodate for his small stature. The fractured triangle’s only eye is closed, his body gently rising and falling from beneath a heavy quilt. He could be easily mistaken for a peaceful sight.
Bill remains unmoving as the doorknob to the room eventually rattles, clicks, and twists open. He is perfectly at ease as the door slowly creaks, a figure shouldering inside of the room without preamble. Bill Cipher remains similarly restful as the human figure softly, almost silently, closes the door behind him, thumbing the doorknob back into locking. The man then makes short work of approaching the entity, shouldering off his trench coat as he does so.
The figure sits next to the pillow, eyes half-lidded as he looks down upon the fractured entity. Rough, human hands raise to hover over the peacefully resting pyramid. Briefly, tentatively. Then, after some great deliberation, the hand lowers to press against the entity’s ‘face’. Bill’s eye remain closed as he’s gently caressed, those fingers pressing against his rough body and swiping across his closed eyelids. Only after a few minutes of this does the cycloptic male’s eye flutter open.
“Ugh… whuh…,” Bill murmurs, raising a hand to rub at his slightly crusty eye as the touch retracts. Only once he sits up upon the pillow does his partner finally speak.
“I’m back.” Ford states simply, though that part is obvious. The triangle does not respond as the human shuffles around behind him, the sound of the bed frame creaking filling the air briefly while the pyramid yawns. When he hears the telltale slide of the wooden side table being opened, he pulls his hands away from his eye. When he hears the greatly anticipated sound of a bottle being popped open, he all but perks up. He knows damn well what that means.
Bill Cipher resists the urge to giggle, feeling a bit giddy as he scrambles into a sexy position upon the plush pillow. The triangle lays on his side, crossing his legs and setting a hand upon his ‘hip’, looking over his ‘shoulder’ to give the human his most smoldering ‘bed me’ eye. Then he lowers his voice a bit, doing his best to sound seductive as he speaks. “Rocket in your pants or are you just happy to see me–.” His voice turns muffled as Ford pushes his ‘face’ into the pillow he was resting on. A disproving exclamation or another comes from him, though this is muffled as well, but the human doesn’t so much as falter. He simply squirts the lube onto his other hand and places the bottle onto the tabletop, pulling the offending hand away to unlatch his belt if the sound of clinking is anything to go off of.
“You sure mean business today.” The triangle murmurs, eye peeking out to watch the human pull his pants off entirely. He can feel himself getting wet at the sight alone no less the smell. Bill Cipher watches in silent anticipation as Ford frowns, as he slicks his erect cock up with that handful of lube. The triangle sighs softly, averting his eye (before he gets caught staring, of course) and parting his legs. Bill only has to lower a hand and rub at it a bit for his sex to reveal itself, because Bill’s just cool like that! It isn’t long before the human grabs him with one hand, lifting him with ease as the larger man shuffles to sit more firmly upon the bed.
So here he is– held like some kind of doll over the human’s hot and lubed up cock. Bill squints his eye at the human, and the human gazes down upon him. It’s hard to tell what he wants (past what’s obvious), what he’s thinking. With his powers hindered, his Fordsy just isn’t as easy to read anymore. Maybe the man will stay stern today… but maybe he won’t. Bill may as well try his luck! Bill offers the human a blink-wink before attempting to roll himself against the other’s fat, delectable cock.
The human huffs, raising his other hand up and latching it against the triangle’s only free ‘hip’. Dang, now he can’t even pop the head in without twelve fingered resistance! This sucks!!
“Come on, Sixer!” Bill Cipher goads, setting his black gloved hands over the other’s. They’re easily dwarfed by the human’s in this form; he can admit it’s pretty hot. When his words and subtly appealing action garners no immediate response his voice takes on a distinctly whining note to it, “C’monnnn!”
Ford just raises an eyebrow at him, seeming sorely unamused at his behavior. That makes no sense and he uh– would say that, really. Nothing really stops him from saying it. Bill just resists the urge to gulp at the sight for the sake of it, refuses to show how his nerves prickle at just a look. Instead, he scrunches his eye up in good humor and crosses his arms before saying, “You know you wanna!”
Stanford remains cool and quiet, pursing his lips a bit.
“And that I wanna,” Bill Cipher adds on with an eyebrow-free eyebrow wiggle.
Gone are the days of Stanford gagging at the opportunity of pounding his superb pussy apparently, because he’s waiting Bill out even after all that. He knows what Ford wants, Ford knows that he knows, but it’s still so… ugh, embarrassing (arousing) to have to do this every time.
A few moments pass. The triangle can feel his front facing plane turn hot in more than just arousal. Bill Cipher really wants to get filled with that dick though, so he swallows both saliva and his pride and clears his throat. “Pluh…,” oh, it’s so– so, pedestrian! So submissi– eugh!! Bill whimpers softly, unable to help but to cringe and squirm in place. This would be so much more pleasurable if Ford were to just drop him down an inch or so, so that his poor clit would kiss his cockhead, but noooo. “Come on, Fordsy, I’m dying here!”
Ford just frowns in a seemingly disappointed manner. Not even deeply disappointed, just marginally so, and somehow that’s even worse. His fingers even loosen a bit from Bill’s hips, and he starts to raise him– oh no–.
“Please?” Bill whispers. Ford opens his mouth, surely to prompt a louder declaration, so Bill beats him to it, “Pretty, pretty please?”
Bill Cipher would never admit to the desperation dotting his voice, to how mournfully empty he feels now, or to just how much he wants to feel his Fordsy in every way just about every waking moment of his existence. Right now he just wants that cock anyways.
Another moment passes, one that ingrains the fleeting thought that maybe Ford isn’t down to pound anymore, before the man finally speaks again. “I suppose I should reward good behavior,” Ford mutters beneath his breath. It sounds detached, almost analytical, the asshat! Bill’s eye slants in brewing irritation before he’s suddenly pulled down.
Before he knows it, he’s so full, it’s hot, it’s heady, and it’s almost like his brain turns off a bit. Not in a bad-weak way, but a good-fun way. The entity’s eye widens, the sensation of a dick that’s a solid third of his current form just about making him spontaneously combust. If he could still manipulate flame, he may have actually done so just to symbolically show just how intense his arousal is. Bill Cipher finds himself at a loss for words and Ford just hums, pulling Bill up a few inches before pulling him back down. Allowing him to remain seated to his crotch for a few seconds before repeating the wet, loud process.
Again and again, Bill is maneuvered. Again and again, he’s emptied and filled. He has nothing to say– he’s getting what he really wants in this moment, after all. To feel every inch of Fordsy pulse and stretch him out, forcing him to accommodate and giving such deep pleasure it borders upon pain. And he gets to hear the other’s breathing hitch as he does this, a poor attempt to hide his own arousal from Bill. It’s so hot… so hot…
Bill keeps his ‘face’ bowed, lifting his trembling fingers up as if to muffle the soft sounds he lets escape. Bill is all but a sex toy, and he can’t do much more than whimper and moan as Ford thrusts into him over and over. Ford himself doesn't fare much better, his orgasm approaching rather swiftly despite his tough front.
Soon enough Ford grunts, burying himself deeply into Bill and tensing all over, ugh, this is his favorite part!! Bill giggles happily as he’s stuffed fuller than full this time, the other's cum bloating him a bit. “Guess you still got some gumption, eh old man?” Bill offers, slyly glancing up at the other.
Ford huffs through his mouth, face completely red and sweaty, before he very slowly starts raising the pyramid off of his dick. Bill whimpers, his eye briefly fluttering shut, and only when the human’s cock pops out from his pussy does he moan. He can take a beating more than any average fella, but Ford’s cock is way too big in comparison to Bill’s now semi-permanent form for him to bounce back from that immediately. Now he’s a little sore inside, and it feels good.
The triangle can feel himself being shifted, laid upon his back on Ford’s pillow once more. It smells a bit like his shampoo– a fact that makes his stomach threaten to rumble from hunger. A distraction from that thought comes in the form of a hot lick being dragged across his pussy. He whines, legs twitching as Ford voraciously slurps his own cum from inside Bill.
“Fordsy!” He gasps, fuck, the human's ravenous, “D–, Fordsy, please!!”
The human moans deeply, burying himself further into Bill’s pussy. Drinking his own fluids out without even a lick of hesitation. Only once his familiar taste is thoroughly replaced with lovely slick does he rise to suck at the other’s neglected clit. Ford sucks at it firmly, massaging at him almost violently with his tongue, and Bill just can’t keep quiet anymore! Whoever taught him to eat pussy like this deserves a Nobel Peace Prize because this never fails to leave Bill’s ‘back’ arching, his toes curling, and with him all but mewling like a little bitch.
He’s relentless with it, too, eyes closed as he just keeps at it. From the clit to the hole, Ford’s tongue and mouth are going overtime to wring as many moans and whimpers from Bill Cipher as possible. Minutes pass, maybe even half an hour, and his arousal kindles into a flame kindle into an inferno. Bill keens, writhes, weakly kicks his legs out.
Eventually Bill doesn't want any more. It's nice and all but all this moaning is embarassing. He pats at the other's hair, gently pulling at him until he slowly unburies himself. He'd tease Ford for acting like it's hard for him, but the man's always had a taste for this stuff so maybe it is a bit difficult.
“Fordsy,” Bill gasps, as if he neefs to catch his breath. His favorite human quickly infers what he wants. Twelve fingers move to hold him again, gentle, full of care, and carry him to the man’s lap. This time it isn’t to have his pussy pounded though– that’d be a bit hard, considering that the human's far past his sexual prime at this point. Instead, he’s moved to sit in the other’s lap. Bill lifts the human’s turtleneck shirt, slipping beneath it so he better fantasize about melting into cuddle Ford's skin. Innocuously! He thinks he can hear the other laugh a bit, but he’s too busy being surrounded by soft fabric and moldable human skin to care deeply about that part.
After moving a hand to keep Bill safe beneath his sweater, Ford moves to lay down fully, his chest moving as if he's panting. Bill takes this as an opportunity to crawl up the other’s sweater, flickers of amusement igniting from the sensation of hitching, ticklish flesh beneath his limbs. Once upon a time he would have been tempted to bite into the lovely flesh for the sake of blood related hunger, but now he (mostly) just resists the urge to leave more claiming marks as he goes. Soon he pops up the front of the other’s turtleneck, stretching the elastic a bit to poke his eye out. Ford seems a bit flushed but otherwise satisfied, smiling a bit. He better be satisfied and happy considering that he just rearranged Bill’s guts and all.
“Mwah.” Bill Cipher says as he then presses his ‘face’ into Fordsy’s, roughly squishing that hairy face all around in a strange version of kissing/nuzzling/feeling up Ford’s slightly wet face in general. The human smirks, soon pressing kisses against him as well. Could this be done more efficiently? Sure, but ‘efficient’ just makes things a snooze!