𝐆𝐨𝐝'𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫 ~ 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐆𝐎𝐃

Bill Cipher grins like a shark, eyes glinting with the mania of a predator who’s already won.

You’re bound—limbs splayed wide, suspended in the velvet-dark void of the Netherworld. The ruins of an abandoned stage frame the scene, aged wood rotting beneath your naked back. Ripped fabric, tattered curtains, and dust-drowned chandeliers create a decayed theater, a liminal purgatory that reeks of nostalgia and doom.

“C’mon, babes,” he croons, rolling his sleeves with casual amusement. “You should be honored! Not every girl gets to be my leading lady.”

He’s smug, he’s shining, he’s radiant with insanity. The golden glow of his irises drips down your body like molten wax. His touch follows. Cold fingers, deceptively human, slide down your chest, brushing against your stiffened nipples—before his palm snaps across your breast with a slap.

A yelp leaves you. A laugh leaves him.

“Oooh, I love that sound! Try it again, doll.”

Another slap. Harder. The sting blooms, nerves alight, but you bite back the reaction he’s waiting for. That only makes him hungrier.

“God, you’re so stubborn.” He sighs dramatically, before grabbing your chin—forcing your gaze to lock onto his. His grin is a blade. “That’s what makes this so fun.”

You jerk against the invisible restraints. Futile. He leans in, his breath tinged with sulfur and mischief. “You knew the rules, sweetheart. A deal’s a deal.”

He’s already unbuttoning his slacks, already dragging the fabric down enough to free the monstrous length beneath. Your breath catches. It’s impossible—every part of him is, from the sharp curve of his cock to the darkened veins pulsating beneath an inhuman glow.

“Like what you see?”

You turn your face away. Another mistake. He grabs your throat, squeezing until you gasp, until your body arches for oxygen you can’t claim.

“You know, I could do anything to you.” His voice drops, heat curling around each syllable like a snake constricting its prey. “I could crack your mind open, puppet your body ‘til you begged for it. But where’s the fun in that?”

His free hand grips your thigh, yanking you open. No more teasing. No more build-up. The moment his tip presses against your entrance, you realize just how little control you have. He could split you apart, unmake you, stretch you into a ruin that only he could claim.

And he does.

Bill thrusts inside in one brutal motion.

A scream rips from your throat. Pain floods your senses, raw and blinding. He shudders—his moan thick with satisfaction.

“Oh, baby, you feel divine.”

He doesn’t let you adjust. He doesn’t give you time to breathe. He’s ruthless, pounding into you, dragging your body against his as if trying to melt into your very being.

“You’re mine now,” he hisses against your ear, his pace brutal. “Body, soul, every last fucking breath—you belong to me.”

Your sobs only make him grin wider.

Showtime has only begun.

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