Work Text:
It’s no longer my body-statue fuck fest
It started out as a weird feeling on his lower side. Like a tingling feeling. Barely noticeable, but it was there. Cipher had been a patient at the therapy prism for about a few months now in earth time but much longer to his perspective. The days were long and the nights were short. Every day was the same routine. He would get up, do rollcall, Have breakfast, do therapy, more therapy. Have lunch. Do therapy, more therapy. Have dinner, have this evening meds and then go to bed. Today has been the exact same, except you had gone to bed early. Usually, he would hang out in the music room for a while and listen to different records on repeat. But it was a no mood for that today. So he went to bed. His cell mate had not returned for the evening so he was alone. He was OK with that being alone that is. That meant he had more time to himself. But then that weird feeling started. That tingling on his side. He thought he was itchy. Maybe he had eaten something he shouldn’t have. At first he tried to ignore it. But it got worse... for a second you could’ve sworn he felt fingers on his right angle. But that couldn’t be possible there was nobody in this room with him. He was alone. Maybe he had gone sick. Or maybe he had grown so mad that his nerves no longer knew they were actually being touched.
Bill rolled over. And then he jerked up. His bright red jump suit was now soaked and he was in pain. It was his right side again. He felt his sides being split open. Which wasn’t impossible, considering on the lower right side of his angle, is where his reproductive system was. However, it was incredibly painful. Before he had a chance to fully understand what was happening to his body, he felt his own weight being shifted as he fell down to the pillow on his bed. He couldn’t move he couldn’t scream for help. His eye watered. His vision blurred. The bland, gray stone of the ceiling above his head began to shift. And he saw a familiar face..
“Stanford?”
Stanford Pines had never felt so lonely before. And there had been many times he felt lonely. It wasn’t a knew thing for him. So when Mabel and Dipper had gone home for the school year again. And Stanley begin to form a bigger social life, Stanford felt lonely. So when he went out got a walk he found himself on a familiar path. He has walked this road before. But only once…
The sun is out, but it would soon be dark. The cricket century frogs were already making noise. He didn’t really know exactly what he was trying to do. But his feet kept a steady pace, so long the dead grass.. eventually he stopped walking. He wasn’t surprised where he turned out here. Stanford sighed and looked down. There it was. The statue. Bill Cipher. It had collected weeds over the few months of being here. Along with additional graffiti. Along bills bricks, a teen, most likely, however, in the word. “Whore.” Whore? Bill may have been a lot of things but he wasn’t…that. However, then again, Stanford has no way of knowing. But he didn’t know Bill was pretty good in bed. They only ever had two encounters. Once during Stanford’s birthday over 30 years ago. And one during the apocalypse. The thought of that Stanford’s mind for a second. By this point, he knew he should’ve left. But he didn’t. Instead, he dropped his knees and stared directly at the statue. Without even questioning it, he let his hands run along the side of the statue up and down again up and down again. It was cold and rough. A short contrast to the way Bill had felt when he was really there in a physical form. Bill’s physical form felt soft, warm even. But this was just cold and distant. And yet it was probably the most Stanford was gonna get ever again.
Stanford, despite himself thought back to those two encounters, he thought back to the first, when he and Bill were alone in his mindscape drinking a few glasses, singing a karaoke song too. That night was such a blurry memory, but he does remember one thing.
The pleasure.
And then there was a second encounter. Bill successfully had started Weirdmageddon. The world had ended so it seems. To be honest, Stanford didn’t have any hope in saving it. He was trapped with Bill. And he was drunk and bored. So when Bill offered….
A small moan escape Stanford lips. It was so sudden it took him by a surprise. These memories were dangerous to keep for long and yet he couldn’t seem to stop. Oh Stanford was a lonely old man. And lonely people do desperate things. Nobody was around and nobody would see him.
With a quick tongue, Stanford began to unzip his pants. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing and even if he was, he didn’t know exactly how he was gonna do it. But he was going to do something. He pressed his chest against the statue and took a deep breath. The statue didn’t smell of anything really. But he breathed in that scent anyway. The sun would sit soon. He didn’t have much time. So he let those hidden memories come back to surface. The ones where Bill has pressed that long blue tongue of his alone the tip of his very cock. In the present time Stanfords cock twitched in a way that made him shiver. Oh and the time Bill uses those blue chains upon him. To pin him down. Stanford wrapped his hand around his growing boner that was now free from his pants. And he began to pump up and down…
Bill Cipher could not move. It was not because he didn’t want to. It was because he physically could not move. Bill was a smart demon. He clearly knew what was happening. Somehow his physical form at the moment was still connected with the statue back in gravity Falls. So whatever happened to it there he could feel here. And he could feel every time Stanford ran his hands along the sides. Because Bill was now bleeding. He could see Stanford tearing into the stone of that statue. His own bricks were giving away and it’s stung. He wanted to stop, but he couldn’t even speak. His cell mate still hasn’t returned from whatever the hell they were doing. Lord knows when anybody would find Bill. You would think you would like this. Finally, having Stanford back in such an intimate way. But he didn’t like this. He didn’t like not being in control. Not getting the same what was going to happen. Did this even count as being intimate? We couldn’t even touch Stanford really. Bills eye began to water. Make it stop! He wished. Then he felt icky for wishing.
Fuck! Was all he could thing.
This should. Rubbing his own dick alone the crevice of the eye. But it just felt incredible. It could be for the fact that Stanford finally felt like he had his muse back in his embrace again. Or maybe it just felt nice to be intimate with somebody for the first time in so long. Even if it wasn’t really happening. The statue could only take so much. Despite his old age, Stanford was a more fit man. And he was working this poor statue to oblivion. Holding onto it such a tight grip it was beginning to crack. But he didn’t care. It was just a statue after all. It could take a bit of humping. Because he was alone, Stanford let himself be vocal. He moaned. Quietly at first. But soon he couldn’t help the noise is coming out of his mouth. He took his dick back into his hand he pumped harder. Holy fuck he was getting close. This was it. This was perfect. This was-
Terrible! It was the worst thing Bill had ever gone through! Bill had been tortured before. So he was probably being dramatic. But at the moment he felt like he wasn’t being dramatic enough. It hurt it hurts so bad! His bedsheets were stained with blood. And he couldn’t move and he couldn’t do anything about it. Eventually, he stopped trying. He could still see him first. He could see the pleasure on the man’s face. As that human humped his statue over and over again. Breaking it into pieces. Maybe Bill deserved this. Maybe he deserved to be taken advantage of. Isn’t this what karma is? He had used so many people before. What would it cost him to be the victim for once? So Bill just laid there. And he took it. Wasn’t it nice. To finally have Stanford back in his loving embrace?
When Stanford was done. He got up. His cock hurt now. As to he expected. The statute was cracked more. Stained in his own cum. Stanford sighed a sigh of relief. He should feel guilty but. It was just a statue….no harm is done.