Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8445679.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Gravity_Falls
  Relationship:
      Bill_Cipher/Dipper_Pines
  Additional Tags:
      Smut, PWP, Violence, Knifeplay, fireplay
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-11-01 Chapters: 1/2 Words: 3221
****** A Hollow Heart ******
by shootingstarcipher
Summary
     After waking up from a nightmare, Dipper thinks it can't get any
     worse.
     As always, Bill is determined to prove him wrong.
Notes
     This was meant to be a Halloween Special one-shot but a) I didn't get
     it finished in time and b) it's getting so long I thought I'd split
     it up and make it a two-shot.
     Anyway, I hope you like it~
Cold. Freezing, really. And numb. He was cold and numb - much too cold to be
the middle of summer, even though he was certain it was, and even though it was
the middle of the night. Just before midnight. Above, the now murky sky had
turned from a clear blue to a hazy purple, dark, with only a few silver stars
dotted about the vast expanse and nothing else providing light - not even the
moon was able to shine its light through the thick clouds covering the majority
of the sky.
But down here in the freezing cold water, Dipper didn’t have the chance to pay
any attention to the sky or the lack of light, no matter how aesthetically
pleasing his surroundings were. To begin with, he was gasping for breath,
struggling to take in any oxygen even though he was panting heavily to the
point where he was over-breathing, having only just managed to swim to the
surface. Still in the water, his entire body shivered, chills running up and
down his spine but he could hardly tell they were there, his body already too
numb and too overcome with the coldness of the icy water to feel anything.
Safety wasn’t far away. In spite of his constant shivering, he was able to swim
to the rocky side without struggling too much. The problem arose when he
reached the side and found himself unable to pull himself up due to the cold
having bitten away at his fingertips. He clawed at the earth, digging his nails
in but ultimately failing. It was then, after many attempts at pulling himself
up out of the water - each of them failing and each even more exhausting that
the last - that a sudden wave surged forwards and wrapped around him, gripping
him with its icy touch and dragging him backwards, throwing him back under the
water.
It was all black. He squeezed his eyes shut as the water filled his lungs,
wishing he could splutter and rid himself of the dark, grimy water he was
continuously breathing in. It felt as if his body was on fire - a cold,
freezing fire that numbed him to his very core. It was numb, but it was still
painful. His clothes were drenched and heavy, pulling him further towards the
bottom of the seemingly endless abyss of suffocating darkness.
Then there was an overwhelming sensation of air filling up his lungs, the water
suddenly disappearing, and he almost choked on it. His eyes flew open
automatically. No water. No unrestricted stretch of blackness. It was dark, but
he switched on the light beside him and the room lit up immediately, revealing
the familiar cobweb-ridden attic room he’d fallen asleep in.
A nightmare, he assured himself. It was just a nightmare. There was no water
clogging up his lungs, forcing out the oxygen. He wasn’t cold, he wasn’t
soaking. He was just… himself. But he was scared and spluttering, still shaking
from the shock of drowning - although, of course, he hadn’t been drowning at
all.
After finally stopping shaking, his breathing slowing and his heart returning
to its normal pulse rate, he took a deep breath and silently slipped out of bed
- though his heart jumped into his mouth again as his bare feet came into
contact with the cold wooden floor below even though he’d been expecting it.
Mabel was snoring softly in the other bed, blissfully unaware of her brother’s
fear. If he’d been braver, he would have checked under his own bed for the
fabled monster that - despite him thinking himself too old to be afraid of - he
couldn’t help being cautious about. Considering the large number of supposedly
fictitious creatures he and his twin sister had encountered over the last
couple of months, he wouldn’t have been surprised to find out that there really
was a monster that resided under the beds of fearful children.
Brushing his fear aside, he hurried out of the attic room and - still trying to
stay as quiet as possible - he crept down the wooden staircase leading to the
first floor of the Mystery Shack. He needed to use the bathroom. It was
frustrating - the discomfort so great he wouldn’t have been able to go back to
sleep without relieving himself first but being afraid to get out of bed due to
his nightmare. But his bad dream wasn’t the only thing that was acting as a
catalyst for his fear. He wasn’t usually afraid at Halloween, but after being
chased, hunted and almost murdered by a monster like he had done only a few
hours earlier in a strange, eerie little town where most of the time he felt
completely alone… That was different. Now he was scared.
But his trip to the bathroom went without a hitch and even though he was
constantly on edge, always expecting something to jump out at him from the
shadows, he was able to slip back into bed without anything truly terrifying
occurring. Strangely enough, he managed to get settled into his bed again
surprisingly quickly. The warmth soothed him and he pulled the blanket over his
head, covering him completely. He had just closed his eyes when what he’d been
afraid was going to happen, happened.
His blanket was thrown off his body, leaving him vulnerable to the cold air
around him. A hand, warm and clawed, scratched at his face, finally settling on
grabbing at his hair and pulling his head up. He opened his eyes instantly but
only succeeding on catching a glimpse of golden hair before a thick strip of
black fabric was placed over his eyes and wrapped around his head, becoming
tied in a bow at the back as it obscured his vision.
His breath was caught in the back of his throat and he felt like choking on it.
He opened his mouth to scream, hoping he’d wake Mabel up or even Stan, but
another warm hand clamped down over his lips, silencing him. Acting on
instinct, Dipper forced his lips to open and bit down hard on the hand pressing
on them but to his dismay (as well as confusion), the only response he received
was a soft, throaty moan. By this point, he realised he may have been dreaming,
though he wasn’t sure why he’d be dreaming this; he assumed it had something to
do with the dream demon that had been tormenting him since he arrived Gravity
Falls.
And he was right. It did.
But it wasn’t a dream this time. Drowning, yes, that had been nothing more than
a nightmare. But this? This was real. Completely real.
Fingers peeled back the blindfold slowly, pulling it back so that although it
was still tied behind his head, he was able to see only part of what was going
on. It was still difficult to catch hold of even tiny scraps of information
based on what he could see, however. Blond hair, a golden eye and a missing
one. An eyepatch covered where the right eye should have been. A familiar face
and - Dipper soon found out - a familiar voice as well. The boy lingering over
him now was a regular in his dreams but this was no dream.
After no more than a second or two, the fingers let go of the blindfold and it
snapped back into place, obscuring his vision again. But then he spoke, letting
Dipper know he was. Even if he hadn’t recognised his voice, no-one else used
that goddamned nickname. “Don’t be so scared, Pine Tree,” the blond practically
cackled, his voice just as shrill as always. His breath was hot against
Dipper’s neck, proving just how close he was to him. “It’s just a bit of
Summerween fun. That’s what you kids like, isn’t it? Fun?”
Immediately recognising his identity, Dipper gritted his teeth angrily in
response and all of his nervousness and uncertainty suddenly drained away,
fading into anger. His hands curled into fists by his sides and he growled
instinctively. “This isn’t fun for me!” he snapped, knowing full well that Bill
was already aware of that fact.
“Well, it’s fun for me,” the demon retorted slyly. Dipper was sure he was
smirking, even though he couldn’t see it. “You know, kid,” he started, leaning
down and giving the brunet’s neck a few quick licks with his tongue. “This
would be a lot more fun for you if you’d just loosen up a bit.”
Dipper didn’t reply because he knew that was true. Based on the dreams he’d
already had revolving around a scenario similar to this one - usually without
the fear and the blindfold - he knew he’d enjoy it if only he let himself, but
how could he, knowing who he was with? And with Mabel across the room from him?
What if she woke up?
Still smirking, Bill interrupted his thoughts, clearly having read his mind.
“Quit worrying, kid. She’s not there. I knew you wouldn’t relax with her around
so I moved her away. She’s safe, alright? So calm down.” He paused, letting his
words sink in, before adding, “By the way, Pine Tree, this isn’t a dream. I
stole this body from your thoughts - thanks for drawing it, kid, and in such
fine detail too.” Dipper swallowed nervously in response, thinking back to his
dreams. He hadn’t meant for this boy - this imaginary, nameless body - to look
so much like Bill, but he had to admit that it really did suit him. And then
he’d made the mistake of drawing it. On paper. And not immediately burning it.
He immediately regretted thinking of fire, especially when Bill seemed so
excited by the thought of it. “You want to burn, Pine Tree?” the demon purred,
pressing down on his body with his own as he leaned in to whisper in Dipper’s
ear. “You want me to burn you? That can be arranged.”
Dipper shivered - half in response to his hot breath and half in fear. No, he
absolutely did not want to be burned. Not by Bill Cipher. Not by anyone. He
couldn’t think of anything worse. Even drowning in icy water was preferable.
“N- No,” he stammered, barely able to force the words out. “No, I don’t. I want
you to go. I want you to leave me alone.”
The pressure pushing down on his body was suddenly released and he felt as
though a weight had been lifted - literally. But he couldn’t see what was going
on now and that was even worse - at least if he’d been able to feel Bill
pushing down on him he would have known how close they were to one another, and
at least part of what the demon was doing, but now he knew absolutely nothing.
There was the rustle of disturbed clothing and a short waft of cold air hit his
face, but that was it. And then his wrists were being grabbed at and clawed at,
beads of blood bubbling to the surface as the blond’s nails dug into his skin.
He tried to fight back, flailing his arms as best he could but he knew there
was no use in resisting.
Bill would get his way in the end. Bill Cipher always got his way.
The demon chuckled at him in response to his pathetic attempt at fighting him
off and easily overpowered him, pinning him to the bed and holding him by the
wrists. Letting go with one hand, he clicked his fingers and Dipper felt
something coiling around his wrists - something cold, something metal. His arms
were suddenly forced above his head, colliding with the headrest behind him,
the chains around his wrists connecting him to it, confining him to the bed. As
always with Bill Cipher, there was no escape.
His body was pushing down on him again, this time the demon’s now bare legs
brushing against Dipper’s. Beneath him, Dipper gritted his teeth and squeezed
his eyes shut tightly even though the blindfold had destroyed any chance of him
seeing what was happening already. He was determined not to let his innate
desires get the better of him. Maybe it was a good thing he couldn’t see as if
he had been able to, he probably he would have found it even harder not to give
in. His mistake was realising that.
Still breathing heavily on the brunet’s throat, Bill reached up and pulled
Dipper’s head towards him, lifting it up from the pillow as his fingers busied
themselves with untying the blindfold and discarding it. He smirked down at him
as he did it and this time, Dipper saw. And he immediately caved in.
Not entirely though. He still hated the way Bill was making him feel, the
feeling of the familiar pressure building up in the pit of his stomach in that
all too familiar way. But what he hated most was the fact that Bill Cipher was
the one who was making him feel this way.
The feeling of the demon’s tongue licking at his throat again made his
hostility melt away momentarily. He bit down harshly on his lower lip to
quieten the moan that threatened to force its way out from his throat but even
then, even as he lay there in almost total silence, the glimmer in Bill’s
golden eye suggested that he knew precisely what was running through his mind.
He tried to stop it. He tried to block out the thoughts with his mind, knowing
it was wrong to be thinking them especially in a situation like this and
especially when the focus of those thoughts was a monster he believed he hated
more than anything else in the universe. But he couldn’t fight it for very
long.
With a smirk, the demon pulled away from him again, gazed directly into his
panic-stricken eyes for no more than a split second and then clicked his
fingers, a small black lighter appearing in his hand. That’s when Dipper’s
heart started to slam against his ribcage again. His eyes darted about in
alarm, searching for something - anything - to focus on. As it turned out, Bill
hadn’t lied. Mabel really was gone. Her bed was empty, the sheets disturbed.
But that realisation brought about even more panicked questions he wasn’t sure
he really wanted answers to.
Now that the blindfold had been removed, Dipper could see that it lay on the
floor between the two beds along with a heap of the blond’s discarded clothing:
the long black jacket and the velvety trousers, as well as his socks and boots.
He only fixated his gaze on Bill again when he heard the felt a sudden surge of
cold air biting at his now exposed torso, now that the demon was peeling back
his shirt to reveal his milky white skin.
His shirt was bunched up around his neck by the time he stopped and the blond
lowered his head to nibble on the milky flesh of his stomach - almost gently -
for a moment before looking up at the younger with a devilish grin. The
lighter, which he was gripping with his left hand, was suddenly brought closer
to the boy’s stomach and it ignited within seconds. Too close. Dipper squirmed
as he tried to move away, his instincts telling him to thrash his body about in
attempt to push the demon away while the voice of reason screamed at him to
keep calm. Too much movement would only bring him closer to the ominous-looking
flame that was already only millimetres away from his skin.
“Oh, come on, kid. I expected better from you,” Bill laughed at him, forcibly
pinning him down with his free hand to hold him in place. “You’re so…
terrified. And of a tiny little flame too. I thought you were better than this,
Pine Tree.” Holding him still, he tipped the lighter upside down and held it
even closer to him than before, gaze trained on Dipper’s face as he admired the
expression he had when he finally felt the flame lick at his flesh. It was only
for a fraction of a second but it hurt. It hurt like hell and he practically
screamed. Bill, on the other hand, screamed in delight.
It was then that the blond let go of him and, burning his flesh again for a few
more seconds with the lighter, Dipper saw him slip his hand between his thighs
and palm himself through the fabric of his underwear, a sharp gasp escaping his
lips in reaction to the contact. He repeated this process a few times - far too
many for Dipper’s liking. Holding the flame against different parts of Dipper’s
body - Dipper yelping and squirming helplessly in response each time - and
constantly touching himself while he did it.
Dipper’s eyes were bloodshot, his cheeks tear-stained and his voice barely
audible. It felt as though his wrists, legs and stomach were charred, blackened
by the demon’s malicious actions. Agony wasn’t the word to describe it. In
fact, he was sure no word could describe the amount of pain he was going
through. And then there was the other contributor to his never-ending
discomfort - the way his body was reacting to Bill’s appearance and the rough
licks he gave his skin. With his hands tied to the headrest behind him, he was
unable to release any of the pressure building up in the pit of his stomach.
And he guessed that was exactly what Bill had planned.
Eventually, Dipper managed to alter that plan.
“Aren’t you bored of that yet?” he asked, his voice croaky and his words barely
coherent in spite of his efforts to come off sounding casual and nonchalant.
Bill froze then, the lighter an inch away from the younger’s exposed thigh, and
stared at him with a narrowed eye, wary of his sudden change in disposition.
The possibility that he was trying to outwit him entered his mind momentarily
but was instantly drowned out by his boundless narcissism - finally, after all
this struggling, Pine Tree was giving in to him, a superior being. “I mean,”
Dipper continued, oblivious to the demon’s thoughts. “There are other ways you
can hurt me, if that’s what you’re after.”
At this point, Dipper was fairly confident that he could trick him. He didn’t
know how practiced the blond was when it came to sexual experiences but he
guessed he couldn’t have had any more experience than himself, and so he was
able to estimate what the demon’s reaction would be if he were presented with
any more arousing material. Lust would take over. It was already taking over
him and he was sure Bill couldn’t have been far behind.
The lighter’s flame disappeared and the blond clicked his fingers, magically
causing the small black lighter to vanish. The demon looked thoughtful for a
moment and then his golden eye seemed to light up with a sudden flash of
inspiration and in his hand, where the lighter had once been, appeared a knife.
With a golden handle, a silver blade and jewels adorning the top of it, the
small yet threatening dagger was strangely elegant and beautiful. Dipper
couldn’t help thinking how ugly it would look once it was caked with his blood,
which was undoubtedly what was going to happen.
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