Twenty year-old Dipper Pines has returned to Gravity Falls. No Stan, no Ford, no Mabel. Just Dipper, Wendy, and Soos to take care of the Mystery Shack. One day, Dipper gets an ominous warning: a deadly assassin had been set upon him. Now Dipper must turn to the only one who can fight such a demon: a demon. Bill promises to protect Dipper, but who can trust a demon? My first BillDip story! Thanks to ShiningInsanity for giving me the idea while reading her BillDip stories. Time to get our OTP on! All Gravity Fall characters do not belong to me. All other characters do. Please don't use them without my permission. Also I use a bunch of scenes from other BillDip books, so keep an eye out for them!

Another plot twist that I came up with for the final episode of Gravity Falls, Weirdmageddon. Instead, Dipper is the one to do the suicidal mission to take down Bill by himself. As said demon traps his family (Ford, Stan, and Mabel) in the triangular prison. Bill captures Dipper and notices that the deal they made back then during the sock opera still exist. Dipper is still Bill's puppet and has access to his mind. The demon finds out that Dipper has been keeping alot of secrets after the sock opera incident. I do not own Gravity Falls sadly. Billdip, don't like don't read.

"What are you?" the older man questioned, his voice a chilling blend of authority and amusement, like a knife wrapped in silk. "Your wife," I replied softly, my tone laced with the submission he seemed to crave. "No," he murmured, his lips brushing mine, the words a dark caress that sent shivers through me. "You are my doll, milaya." He towered over me, his intimidating presence both suffocating and intoxicating. The nickname, spoken in that deep, accented voice, wrapped around me like a chain I couldn't help but love. "You are the only woman who is allowed to warm my bed at night," he said, his voice a dark melody, smooth but unnerving. "The only woman who's allowed to step into my office and bend over my desk, waiting for me to come home so I can fuck you." A cold, low chuckle rumbled from his chest, the sound as sinister as it was intoxicating, sending shivers down my spine. ♡ Dimitri Mikhailov, the russian mobster. His presence filled the room like a storm. He didn't have to move or speak to dominate the room. Broad-shouldered and imposing, his scarred face told a thousand stories that he'd never waste words on. He was my husband and I was his precious doll.