HII!! I Have A Request For Shadow Milk X (fem Reader) NSFW Headcannons! It Can Literally Be Anything

SAW YOUR INSIDE JOB POST.. YOU KNOW WHO IM GONNA ASK FOR...

begging for dom reagan i love her

OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHG IM ALREADY WORKING ON IT BABES…

OOOOUHHHH GIRLLLL DON’T PLAYYY… this is MY typa shit.

Thoughts on milking Shadow Milk through his ass instead of riding him?

GET THE STRAP! GET THE STRAP

His reaction? At first, it’s pure mockery. His usual cocky, dramatic self—grinning wide, tossing his jester hat aside, pacing in a slow circle around you like you’ve just brought him a toy. "Ohhh~? What’s this, sweetheart? Planning on topping me tonight?"

He laughs—low, sharp, confident. But there’s a waver to it. Because even as he’s teasing, his eyes keep darting to the strap. The size. The intention. The fact that you’re serious.

Smut incoming/ MDNI

So now he’s already lying there, dramatic as ever—head tilted back against the pillows, legs lazily parted, chest rising and falling with slow, expectant breaths, and his lips curve into that familiar sharp grin. "Oh? So now you’re going to worship me first? I knew you couldn’t resist." He’s cocky. Smirking. Mocking you even as your fingers slide between his legs.

But the moment you touch him—properly, with care, with purpose—his voice catches. Just a little. His lashes flutter. And that grin? It wavers. "Nnghh… I— I was only teasing, you know—" You feel him tense under you. You press in deeper. Stroke over that tight ring of muscle, slow and teasing, coated in slick lube or your own spit—anything to make the glide smooth, comforting, perfect. He gasps. Bites his lip. His hips twitch against your hand. And now he’s trying to pretend he’s not into it."Y-you’re… hah… really taking your time, aren’t you? How generous of you—nnnghh—tch…" He’s a mess. Clenching around your fingers, squirming under your hand. "more—give me another one…" Trying to mask the way his hips are starting to roll down against your hand, seeking more. And that’s when you stop.You curl your finger just right, hit that sweet spot one more time, and then—Pull out.

Not roughly. Delicately. Teasingly. Cruelly slow.

"Ah ah—You think you can tell me what you want?" He’s trying to save face—just barely. His lips twitch in a half-smile, something strained and shaky. He wants to pretend he's still in control. "Aha… you’re being rather stern, aren’t you? I only meant to suggest—" Your grip closes around him. Firm. Tight. Your hand closes around his cock in warning. Enough to make him jerk, breath catching in his throat. His eyes go wide—lashes fluttering—his voice cutting off with a strangled, high-pitched breath. "Hh—!" You lean in close, breath ghosting over his cheek, your tone low and sharp like silk-wrapped steel: "I said. You don’t tell me what you want." You give him a slow, deliberate pump in your grip—enough to make his thighs tense and a sweet, helpless whimper catch in his throat. "If you beg before I tell you to, I’ll stop." "If you demand again, I won’t touch you at all."

Those words ring in his brain. And you squeeze—once. A reminder. A promise. His head tips back, breathless. His fingers curl in the sheets. You feel him throb in your hand, shivering under your control. "Y-you drive a hard bargain," he breathes, voice cracked but giddy beneath the heat. "But I’ll behave…Please."

He’s panting now, jaw tight, shoulders trembling—absolutely owned by the feel of your hand on him, and the knowledge that you’re in control of everything.

...

You guide him with care—hands still firm on his thighs, holding him open as you position yourself. The strap brushes against his entrance, slick and warm, and you feel his breath catch. His hands grip the sheets. "Ngh… wait—w-wait—"

But he’s not telling you to stop. He’s just overwhelmed. Already.

You smile. "Breathe," you murmur against his ear. "You said you could take it. Were you lying?" And oh, the way he shivers under that. The way his lashes flutter, and his lips part in a soundless, whimpering little gasp. "N-no. I wasn’t… I—I can…" So you press in, slowly, carefully. Until the tip slips past that delicate ring of muscle, and his whole body arches.

"Hhah—!" You don’t stop. Not yet. You rock in with slow, deliberate pressure—inch by inch, letting him feel every second of it.

"Ahhh—s-so full—so… ohhh…" You bottom out with a final push, your hips flush against his. His breath stutters in his throat. His thighs tremble. He’s quivering, his body clenching sweetly around you as if trying to adjust and beg for more all at once.

You pause. Let him feel it. Let him tremble. Let him want.

And then you start to move. Rhythmic. Slow. Deep.

Your hands pin his hips in place, guiding the pace—not letting him escape, not letting him rush. His breath comes in short, high whines, his voice soft and broken:

"Nghh… ngh… s-so good, I—it’s too much…" "No," you breathe against his throat. "This is what you begged for."

He moans—quiet, strangled—his fingers curling tight around your wrist, pleading for more even as his body struggles to handle it.

You adjust your angle. You thrust again—deeper, this time. You hit it." That spot.

And he breaks. "Hh-AHH—!" His back arches, his whole body tenses around you, "T-that—again—please—again—" You slam back in. Over and over, steady, deep, merciless—but not cruel. Claiming. Worshipful. "You're so tight," you whisper. "You take it so well… look at you. My perfect little thing." He can't speak anymore. Just moans. Just gasps.

Shadow Milk Cookie—Master of Mischief—has been reduced to your soft, gasping, needy puppet.

His thighs are shaking. His breath is shallow, stuttering out in hitched gasps. You feel the way his body tightens, writhes, pulls you in with every roll of your hips. "A-ahhh—nnngh, I—I can’t—" "Yes you can," you purr. "Be good for me. Let go."

And then—You grab him. Wrap your hand around his throbbing cock in a firm, practiced grip—stroking in time with your thrusts. And his entire body convulsed. His head snaps back, lips parted in a loud, broken moan that echoes off the walls. Then he cums...

Hard. Messy.

Rope after rope spilling over your hand, over his stomach, his voice trembling as he whimpers through the high. His chest heaves, flushed and slick, legs weak and twitching. "Nnnnhh... o-ohhh… oh witches..." He shudders, soft, overwhelmed gasps escaping him even after he finishes—his body still twitching around the strap buried deep inside him, clenching rhythmically in the aftershocks. You stay buried inside, holding him close as he melts into you, the last remnants of his pride dribbling away with every gentle breath. And when you lean down, kiss his temple, whisper,

"You did so well for me."

He just nods, eyes lidded. voice gone, and completely yours.

--

WHO MADE THAT MESS? YOU DID KIIIING, I MADE THAT MESS? YES KINGGG!!!

haha I’m baaack! (oh god this is so convoluted. I’m the one who requested subspace bill, etc.,!!!)

PLEASE elaborate on how bill would be if he went into subspace with More Powerful being!reader. I will owe you my life. I am deeply intrigued, like seriously I love to see ur takes on this stuff!

- 🎩 anon!

a/n — I am so horny right now but i’m also bleeding like a stuck pig with alcohol poisoning an i ain touching allat #oversharing

warnings — NSFW, dom!reader, subspace, Bill being Bill

summary — How subspace would go with Bill and a powerful reader

⃤ I think an incredibly powerful reader would affect Bill subbing off the bat, because he would feel the need to overcompensate.

⃤ He would be trying to dom you so hard, and the only thing is, you have to power to shut him down, and flip the switch.

⃤ This is incredibly new for him, because no one dares, and even if they could, they wouldn’t. 

⃤ And it’s been billions, more maybe, of years since he’s let someone take the reins on anything in his existence, and the fact that you can infuriates him.

⃤ Your relationship would be very toxic for that reason, and very hot.

⃤ He would be bratting out so hard, fighting everything you’re doing, because of that dare. Put him in his place, no one else will.

⃤ If you didn’t fill him with immense, incomparable, pleasure he knows anyone less mighty could not, he wouldn’t put up with it. 

⃤ But, truth be told, you’re very intimidating, and maybe he is curious about how it feels to be at someone’s mercy. 

⃤ So yes, use your powers to suspend him in the air, spread his legs with your mind and make him as vulnerable as possible, see if he stops bitching.

⃤ Pluck at strings in his brain to fill him with awful pain and glorious, mind-numbing satisfaction, until his complaints drip down his leg and turn into whimpering mutters of your name.

⃤ Make him forget who he is, and what he can do, it’s meaningless anyways in the presence of a god.

⃤ His wise, ancient mind will fog and cloud, as his whining turns from quippy criticism to the same few words over and over again.

⃤ Keep toying with him, use all of the abilities your powerful being grants you and show him what you can do. 

⃤ Watching Bill get genuinely needy for you, his hands grasping for you, if they aren’t already touching you.

⃤ “Please” isn’t in his vocabulary, but maybe a small muttery one appears.

⃤ This has a greater chance of happening with a powerful reader because it truly doesn’t give him many choices, other than to give in to your might.

⃤ And he’d never do this is he had no other choice, right? Of course, that doesn’t mean stop. Nothing does.

⃤ Not even when his eye snaps shut and he shrieks for you to go easy on him. 

⃤ He doesn’t want you to, not really, anyways.

MIND THE TYPOS!!!!!

DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW FUN IT WOULD BE TO DEGRADE BILL. I DON'T KNOW HOW YOU WOULD DO IT OR IF YOU COULD BUT I DREEAAAAMM. I DREAMMM.

well first of all link 😁, and second of all I KNOW. Because he’s such a shit, I just want to be so mean to him like it’s a natural instinct.

I’m going to be so real, you’d probably be in mortal danger if you didn’t do it right. Like, he would NOT like being mocked, he’d get so angry. I also think that’s why the idea of him with an equally powerful, or more-so, adversary is interesting. Because then, you’d have the right to degrade him.

And there’s so much to critic about Bill too, pointing out his need for constant attention, and his pathetic little mood swings. He’d throw such a tantrum. Especially in bed, you’d practically be making him choose pleasure over respect and that’d drive him nuts.

I’m definitely doing more with this idea in the future, that shitbag DOES NOT deserve nice treatment.

anyways, someone request something with Ford now because I love him.

hot take everybody, I want him so bad.

Take a Bite

1.5k words,, Bill Cipher x Reader

summary — Bill and the reader have sex, which has proven to be very difficult seeing as he isn’t doing anything, and, of course, things are never easy with that insufferable brat.

warnings — SMUT, bill being annoying and toxic, dom!reader, sub!Bill, heavy pain kink, bill’s human form, the fat fuck not the twink

a/n — Admittedly, this fic only happened because I never see Bill sub in fanfics and i’m very interested in what the dynamic would be. You’d be like… domming with a risk of death.

“Well, slick,” Bill leaned back and gestured up and down his body, “Give it your all.”

Amusement was thick in his voice, along with bubbling giddiness. He fumbled with the seams on his pants, not out of nervousness, but as if he had forgotten how to take them off and was looking for some kind of zipper. One, admittedly, that he would not find on slacks. 

“Wow, human clothes are just as bad as the fleshbags. So needlessly complicated,” He sounded on the verge of a laughing fit, “Oh, and toots? Before you dig in, remember to leave marks. I wanna see how durable this thing is.” 

His amusement was not matched on your part. The situation invoked dull curiosity at best, in your opinion. The idea of harboring a wanted criminal, ex-overlord, god-like demon in your house challenged your idea of a good time. Having sex with that demon was even harder to swallow.

Then again, any situation with bill warranted an ungodly amount of stress. 

“Whatcha’ thinking about over there, sweet-cheeks?”

You smiled at that; of the few advantages you have, being in gravity falls for weirdmageddon proved to be one of them. You know of his powers, and with that, vague guesses on how to prevent them.

Tinfoil-lined bobbie pins were one of them. A guess, granted, but a good one at that. Really, not that complicated when you recall every alien movie you’ve ever watched. 

“Upset you can’t tell?” 

He laughed, “Upset for you, maybe. Trust me, it’d be so much easier for both of us if I could just read your thoughts. I’m already your roommate, how much closer could we ge- Ah.”

You brushed his pants crotch, and began to unbutton. For all his mightiness, the guy couldn’t work pants. “Careful, human body’s are touchy.” 

“Touchy,” He repeated, “Tell me about.” 

Getting his pants off was a task harder than it should have been, no thanks to Bill, who seemed to have taken to just lying there, occasionally flicking you, and then himself. 

When you finally peeled all of his clothes off, you warned him to brace himself, to which he ignored you. On top of that, the entire time Bill had been talking, droning on about ‘the last time he’d been in a human body.’

You wondered vaguely if he’d ever done this with someone else. In the time he’d been at your house he’d mentioned some ‘sixer’ ex-thing-ish of his. But you doubt he’d done anything with him.

As he’d mentioned, he hadn’t perfected his human form until very recently. Perfected is a strong word, he was pudgy and short, remanisent of a human peanut. And his teeth were terrible. 

Either way, you’d gotten him ready, and began your work. Laying a light finger on the tip of his dick, and running it down the base of his length, you got Bills first reaction: a short sniff.

Recovering fast, he adjusted his seat, “Yeah, tick tock, toots. This better be good.” 

It was his idea, you thought, but continued. Your fingers wrapped around the entirety of his cock and you began to stroke it. 

A sigh left Bills mouth, “Oh, this does have a kick to it. Maybe you’re not so bad, after all.”

Over the course of the next few minutes, you’d grow angrier and angrier. Although you were clearing making him feel good, he’d never shut his snide mouth for two seconds. 

“Jesus, slow down, pal— I just perfected this flesh-bag, at this rate your gonna break something—“ 

You didn’t realize how much your hand sped up. You thought for a moment, before completely stopping. Bill looked taken aback.

“Hey! what’s the—“

Without warning you grabbed his dick with full force and squeezed. He yelped, before giggling at the hurt.

This made you more mad, “God, do you ever shut up? I wish you’d lost your voice when you lost Gravity Falls.”

He stopped giggling. “I’d watch what you say, if I was you, kid.”

You threw your head back and laughed, running your hand slowly up his dick and then slamming back to the base of his cock. Finally, a reaction other than knowing bliss: anger. Weakness.

“Oh dear god, rearrange the features of my face then, Billy. See if I give a shit when you don’t have a place to live.”

His face turned red with rage, and he recoiled at the mention of your upperhand. And then, finally, at the slowing of your hand, a small, wavering whimper. 

You both caught it, and he was quick to put a hand of his mouth, “Sensitive human bodies - Hey, don’t look at me like that, that was not my fault.”

“God, you’re such a brat.”

“Oh please, what are you gonna do about it?” And he was completely serious.

Without much hesitation, you took the moment as an opportunity to abruptly sink yourself onto his dick. He sucked in a breath but you didn’t give him much time to do anything else.

“Ah- Now we’re talki—“ You slapped him hard across the face, and grabbed his cheeks with your hand, squishing them together, mockingly. Stifled laughter from Bill. 

“This is the form you spent all that time perfecting? I can barely feel anything. It’s worthless!” You sped up riding him, loosening your face to give the illusion you were bored, “You’re worthless.” 

His eyebrows arched down and his eyes widened, “I can kill you with a snap of my fingers! You think I need this sex— You think I need this hous— ah, ah—“

The unknown pleasure was getting to him, making his brain foggier than usual, and it was showing. Human senses were a key factor in your ability to keep the high-ground. Just as long as it felt good enough, he wouldn’t go back to his original form and… well. 

You wondered vaguely if you were actually going to be in mortal parole after this. But then again, the look on his face was almost euphoric, despite the anger. Thankfully, Bill was selfish, he’d probably chase the high again

You sighed, “Oh, you do need this house, Billy. Where else would you go? Everyone else in town has already forgotten about you, and your little maniac friends are no where to be seen.”

You sped up once more as your hands danced up his body, and continued, “With this whole out-of-sight-out-of-mind routine, i’m giving you something you won’t be getting anywhere else: attention.”

“You— Ah, curse this feeble human body! I’ll make your life a living hell-“ He whined, actually whined. 

Slamming yourself down on him, he cried out and then scowled. You raked your nails down his chest, deep enough to bleed, drawing out a  giggle from Bill as he felt the littlest bit of blood start to pool.

“You’re lucky this meatbag is— ah— funny enough—“ He was cut off with a gargle as a your hand sharply wrapped around his throat, and squeezed tight. 

“It’s not luck, i’m good at what I do, Billy. Not that you would know what that’s like, you pathetic shitbag,” although that insult wasn’t particularly true, you didn’t give him a chance to snap back, and instead put your other hand on his neck as well. 

You rode him with more speed than ever now. His eyes fluttered open and shut slowly, and he leaned into your hands. 

His face flushed, but a dreamy smile spread to the edges of his face as you made sure to leave bruise marks on his throat, still slamming against him. 

Although, you didn’t want to actually break him, so when his face began to turn purple, you let go. He gasped for air and let out a raspy, crazed giggle that went on for too long, and ending in a moan.

“I’m— “ Bills eyebrows furrowed, as if he was trying to decipher what the amusing thing the human body had planned next, “Somethings— somethings happening.”

His voice was broken, neck bruised, cheek red with a slap mark, eyes foggy, and chest bleeding from your nails. 

Before you dig in, remember to leave marks. I wanna see how durable this thing is.

Clearly you’d kept your end of the deal, and from what you’ve gathered it was time for the finale. You chased your own climax now as well, even though, admittedly, you hadn’t been thinking about it the whole session.

Annoying as it was that Bill still managed to make something all about him —and he definitely knew, mind reading or not— you still kept up your pace. 

“You’re close?” 

He smiled blissfully, and nodded.

What the hell. You smiled, “Good boy.”

His reaction was… startling. He leaned his head back, let out a small half-whine half-laugh, and arched off the bed. Finally, he released.

is this anything

hmmmm if you’re looking for stanford smut requests….. maybe expand on ford loving pegging? maybe throw in him getting called pretty boy to really wreck him?

- 🎩 anon!

A Night to Remember

a/n — Yeah, not my best work. But oh well.

warnings — implied Fem dom, dom reader, use of a strap, pegging, sub Ford **NOT PROOFREAD

summary — Reader and Ford try out pegging for the first time.

“Are you sure about this, dear?” Ford queried for the hundredth time that night.

You were almost done setting up with prep, getting ready to slide the first finger in. His weariness was almost laughable, “Yes, i’m sure. Are you?”

He looked taken aback—sounded taken aback, as he was already on fours for you. “What? Yes! Of course, I— I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

It’s almost cute how unsure of himself he could still be, despite everything he’s been through. It’s in vulnerable moments like this you catch a glimpse of the insecure boy he once was. You try to call him down.

“So have I, baby—“ the pet name was well received, “—but you can relax. I’m gonna take good care of you.”

Your finger slipped into his asshole with ease because of the lubricant, and he shifted uneasily. “It might feel weird at first— But just get ready, sweetheart.”

“Right. Yes. Of course,” was his short response.

You worked on loosening him up for a little bit before you must have hit a spot he liked, because he sucked in a breath, “Oh.”

Gaining confidence, you kept moving. Twisting your fingers in and out, drawing soft moans from Ford.

Finally, his voice wavered, “Please.”

You took that as your queue, slipping your fingers out and replacing them with your strap. 

“Brace yourself,” You say as you slide into him, drawing out a whimper of approval from Ford. “Good, good.” You praise absentmindedly, beginning to find a pace.

You steady yourself and move inside him, not too fast, but not annoyingly slow. 

“M-more,” Ford mutters, “Please, love—“

So you speed up, and you begin to drive deeper into him. First your pace unsteady, but once you find a good place, Fords legs begin to shake. His breath hitches and he gasps for the sheets, groaning slightly.

You go on like that for a little bit, before deciding to, once again, lift your pace.

Ford whines your name. 

“You’re doing so good, sweet boy,” You thrust into him, “So well behaved, so perfect.”

He whimpers into the pillow, mumbling incoherently.

“And so pretty,” you add on, drawing out a long raspy whine from Ford.

“Ah— Y/n, dear lord—“ He whines, “Close, ‘m so very close.”

You drill into him now, daring him to reach his limit, a challenge he seems to gratefully accept.

“Anytime you want, sweet boy.” 

His breathing gets ragged, back arching with every thrust, and with one final whimper he releases, before collapsing onto the mattress.

You lay there with him for a few moments after ford flips onto his back. 

“Wanna get cleaned up?” You propose.

He breathes, “I think—“ a huff “—If we want to get full use out of the strap then… maybe a second round would be.. most productive.”

HUNGER GAMES REQUESTS OPEN ˙⋆✮ —

who is write for —

Coriolanus Snow, Haymitch Abernathy, Johanna Mason, Lucy Gray, Sejanus Plinth, Katniss Everdeen, Peeta Mellark , Finnick Odair, Effie Trinket, Tigris Snow, Plutarch Heavansbee

˙⋆✮ All my usual rules apply

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