#he took my hands into his and he looked me deep in my. big alien ass eyes and said this to me

[the-sin-hole]

headrush

stanxreader flashfic, 1k words gender neutral, smoking, no warnings apply

+++

“I don’t give a shit what Saturn looks like,” Stan says, trying to sound abrasive, but the smile forming around the unlit cigarette between his lips betrays him. “S’far as I’m concerned what happens up there is nunna my business ‘til some aliens come down here and try to abduct me.”

You’re standing in the yard of the Mystery Shack under a sea-dark sky slathered in bright white pinholes. Stan threw another party at the Shack and most of the cleaning fell to you two. A month ago you’d expect him to order the kids do it. But you’ve watched him soften over the weeks since they came, and tonight he only made them clean up half of all the spilled drinks and tracked-in dust and scattered confetti before allowing them to call it a night. He toothlessly harangued you to stay late and help under the guise of owing him one after letting you drink all the Pitt from his fridge yesterday, but you didn’t need convincing. It was enough just to spend one on one time with him.

After doing a perfectly respectable half-assed cleaning job, the two of you retired to sit on the porch for some well earned smokes. Stan quit for the sake of the kids, but sometimes he can’t help himself from bumming a stray or two from you. You handed him one before he even asked as you stepped outside into the warm summer night air. You were immediately struck by the sky, letting in a small gasp of air at the sight of so many clear stars. You pulled Stan by the crook of his arm into the grass with you and started pointing out the celestial entities you were familiar with. Stan wasn’t looking at any of it. His eyes were fixed on you.

Your voice faltered as you pointed out Saturn, when your eyes darted back to him and found his gaze. It was unreadable. Part of you thought, if you tried really hard, you could see something in that gaze that looked a little soft. The thought made something in your gut writhe.

You broke the eye contact, instead putting the cigarette in your mouth and holding up your lighter to its end. It took a few spins of the flint wheel but it lit, and you pulled in the meager flame, sucking the filter several times in quick succession to let the heat gain purchase before letting the lighter falter. You handed it to Stan, risking regained eye contact and catching his small smile just as he claimed his indifference to the stars.

You snort and roll your eyes at the bold proclamation. “Oh wowwww, mister cool guy here is too big and tough to care about the vast wonder of space, huh?”

“You better believe it,” he replies, tilting his head down to meet the lighter in his hand and shifting the cigarette between his teeth at the front of his mouth. He spins the wheel a couple times to no avail, a little harder each time, furrowing his brow as he repeats his attempts. “What’s space ever done for me, anyway?”

You smile as you pull on your cigarette. He makes a frustrated “Eh” as more clicks of the lighter prove fruitless. His eyes dart up and he looks at you through his thick grey brows— his gaze is once again unreadable, but it sends something through you. He’s been doing that to you a lot, lately. Just being close to him can make your heart beat fast, something that at first was highly frustrating, but now you can’t help yourself from chasing the small highs, each casual graze against his arm or lingering eye contact feeling just as good as a deep inhale of fiberglass and nicotine.

You’re about to interrupt your current inhale to ask why he’s looking at you when his eyes dart down to your lips.

He reaches a hand up and lightly grabs your jaw, four fingers on one side, thumb on the other. You feel like you’ve been punched in the stomach. Heat radiates from that gut punch through your entire body in an instant. The two fingers you had gently resting on either side of the filter in your mouth twitch, almost flinging the cigarette out of your mouth entirely. His eyes are cast down, not looking you in the face, which you’re grateful for, as you’re sure you look ridiculous. You can feel your eyes widening, the heat flooding your face.

Stan leans in. The smoke you just inhaled is now caught swirling in your lungs as you hold your breath. He positions the tip of his cigarette to yours, the fingers grasping your jaw tightening just a little bit to make sure you don’t throw off the alignment. He purses his lips and draws in the heat, igniting it. He could pull away now, if he wanted. But he draws just a few more times. After seconds that stretch into an eon he slowly leans back. He leaves the fingers on your jaw for just a moment longer than he needs to. Just long enough to send another punch to your gut.

His hand finally leaves you, moving to the filter in his mouth, ready to take it once he’s finished his first long drag. He straightens up and finally meets your eyes once again. You’re still holding your breath. He removes the cigarette from his lips and exhales through his nose, the smoke coming out in great furls. You can see a slight smile behind the smokescreen as he says,

“Space is for suckers. I got everything I need right down here.”

You finally pull the filter from your mouth. His eyes dart down quickly to watch you let out a deep exhale, smoke spilling from your lips as they twist into a smile. The windless night lets the smoke hang in the air between you, small plumes lazily intertwining. When his eyes find yours again, there’s no mistaking it. His gaze is soft.

[shot-by-cupid]

I have posted this before but this deleted scene is literally everything to me and I hold it so close to my heart you have no idea

Like. He’s such a great guy it actually makes me sick. It’s like. Everything he does is so genuine and sweet and it’s just. He’s so soft spoken here it makes me dizzy. He’s so gentle and caring and UGH. My cheeks are red I am screaming into my pillow I am crying and kicking my feet. He’s so perfect he’s literally my everything.

[honey-flustered]

Kinktober Day 1: Xenophilia/Oviposition

Warnings: 18+ smut, dry humping, dirty talk about alien sex

Boyfriend!Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie tells you why alien sex is so much better. Maybe he can even show you.

A/N: Decided to join kinktober fun because why not so I’ll be posting to catch up . Posting something risky and weird on the main so lemme know what yall think

You’ve known Eddie to be quite stranger ever since the day you met. It was evident considering the differences in your friend circles. He is a pop culture nerd and you’re the popular cheerleader. Somehow, his weird vibes were able to pull you in, unafraid of the odd rumors associated with him. Hell, you took it as a challenge then. But you’d soon come to fall in love with one another, appreciating the differences as it made teaching each other all the more exciting.

But you’d say the best part of being with Eddie is that neither of you had to hide any of your most intimate and sometimes down-right bizarre secrets from one another.

Like when Eddie learned of your secretly nerdy enjoyment of stargazing and tracking celestial events, he’d purchased a telescope for you where he’d spent the night listening to you explain away the galaxy. And like as of now, when you learned of your boyfriend’s alien sex fantasies while watching the new Alien movie.

You’d noticed the way he shifted in his seat during the movie, adjusting himself in his jeans. You playfully questioned him and he was a mess of stutters and stammers.

“It’s fucked, I know,” He says, avoiding your eyes and twisting a lone ring around his thick finger. “Bet you think I’m a real fucking freak.”

“I mean, I do think you’re a freak,” You say, bringing his face back up to yours. “But that’s exactly what I like. So…if you could have alien sex…how exactly does that work?”

“W-well, there are like some sex toys to make it happen.”

“And the whole egg implanting thing? Is that like when you creampie?” You ask excitedly.

His cheeks grow redder, coughing in embarrassment. “No—So like there are these gelatin egg kits that you can purchase at a sex shop. And they’d get deposited inside through sex and would eventually melt inside you—o-or any person for that matter not just you, of course. I’ll just use us as an example for clarification. But it’s only a fake scenario. Totally not real. For shit and giggles. Hypothe—

“I get it, babe,” You impatiently interrupt. “Get on with it.”

“Right,” He swallows. “So, imagine me wearing this cock sleeve thing that’ll look pretty gnarly because it’ll look kind of like a blue tentacle with all these ridges and bumps—

You raise an eyebrow, teasing. “Oddly specific.”

“Y-Yeah but it’s only to help with the visuals. Not because I have one. Psssh, what?” He says with a anxious high-pitched tone, eyes shifting side to side.

“Mhm,” You say, moving from your spot on the couch to sit in his lap. “Anyway, so back to you naked and wearing that little toy. Will the gelatin eggs be in it already?”

“They would. Then, I’d have to lube up the toy so you can take it. I’d get real nice and slick to the point where it’s dripping like slime just so we’re on the safe side.” He says, letting his hands glide up your thigh, lifting your skirt a little higher.

“Ooo, it’s that big?” You gasp, rocking back and forth against his growing erection. Every now and then, the tip would slip either between your clothed wet core or your soft thighs.

“Uh-huh,” His face in your neck, planting light kisses. “Or maybe you’re just that tight.” He emphasizes the last word while gripping and kneading the inner fat of your thighs.

“Then, what happens?” You mewl.

“Then, I’d stick it deep, deep, deep inside you.” He groans into your ear.

“Would you still be able to feel my warm walls around you? Feel clenching around you so you’d stay inside me?”

“That toy is specifically meant to give you pleasure,” He breathes hotly. “No, I won’t get to feel your tight, wet pussy directly around me. But I’d get pleasure enough seeing your face when I plant my seeds in you. You’re gonna take it all, aren’t you, babygirl?”

“Yes, fuck, why do I want that so badly?” You take his hand to place over one breast. Through the thin fabric of your shirt and bra, he quickly locates your pebbled nipple and plucks at it repeatedly.

“Because I just taught you how great monster sex can be.” His teeth sinks into your earlobe.

“You mean there’s more than just alien sex?”

“Mhm, I can show you.” He says, loving that he’s corrupting a girl like yourself.

“Yes, please, master. Show me more.”

[mindmelter]

Offspring

I am standing on the side of the bed as I watch my neighbor's youngest son, Devon, wake up his equally hot dad by sticking his tongue inside his mouth. Mr. Bennett struggles and shakes his body as his alien-possessed son infects him with the alien parasite.

Mr. Bennett is fit, but he doesn't have a chance against his much more muscular youngest son. Seeing my hot neighbor's son helping me turn his dad into an alien host is getting me so hard! I pull down Mr. Bennett's shorts so I can finally see his bulge from closer. His bulge is as big as I was expecting, and the fact he is wearing white underwear makes it a lot hotter, the urge to sniff that man's bulge grows stronger at each passing second that I stare at it.

While I hear the slurping noises coming from their passionate "kiss" I bury my face in Daddy Bennett's bulge and take a deep sniff while I hear the wet sounds of the parasite forcing its way down his throat.

With my face still buried in his cock and balls, I look up and catch a glimpse of the parasite sliding from Devon to his dad's mouth; The snake-like parasite is quite long and very thick, so thick that Mr. Bennett's throat bloats with the intrusion. I bury my face even deeper in his massive bulge, licking it over the fabric. I can't wait to have them both as my alien-possessed sex slaves, I think to myself.

Devon finally detaches his mouth from his dad and I watch the parasite's tail wriggle and disappear inside Mr. Bennett. I can't hold it any longer and pull down his underwear. I look in awe at how beautiful Mr. Bennett's cock and balls are; his balls are huge and heavy, and even while soft, his cock is big and thick, but he won't be soft for much longer. I took his big cock into my mouth and started to feel the member grow to its full length. Devon just continues standing on the side with the same slack and empty face he has since he was taken over, totally unbothered by the fact I'm blowing his dad.

With my mouth full of Mr. Bennett's cock, I have a great view of his stomach, and I witness something amazing happen; his belly starts to bloat, and I can see what is obviously the parasite wriggling inside him, doing something to him. I put my hand on top of his stomach and felt the alien moving inside.

I had seen the same thing happen with Devon when I put the parasite in his agape mouth while he was sleeping on the couch downstairs. But after a few minutes, his belly went back to normal, and he stood up with a blank facial expression; he didn't say anything and just stood up and took the stairs toward his dad's bedroom. I followed right behind him.

Now that the parasite has left Devon, he is left motionless like a robot without battery. I see Mr. Bennett's stomach slowly going back to normal and he finally wakes up, sitting on the bed while I am still latching on his cock. I feel his hand on the back of my hair, and he gently pulls me away; he has the same empty look on his face that Devon has. And without saying a word, Mr. Bennett gets off the bed and kneels in front of Devon, pulls down his shorts, and takes his son's cock into his mouth.

The sight is nothing but breathtaking. After a few seconds of blowing Devon, he stands up, now both of them sporting a hard-on. Mr. Bennett stands close to his son, close enough for their cocks to be aiming at one another. Leaving only a few inches apart from each cock head. Then what happens next is something I will never forget. A small black parasite—a lot thinner and smaller than the one I helped inside Devon—crawls out of Mr. Bennett's piss slit and makes its way inside Devon's cock.

Both of their eyes roll back and they shook while still standing, the parasite connecting them both by their cocks. When the tail disappears inside Devon's slit, Devon finally comes back to life; though 'life' might not be the right word since he still has the same blank expression, at least he is moving again. Devon and Mr. Bennett stare directly at each other for a few seconds, then they smile at each other—only those smiles were nothing but human.

Mr. Bennett slowly raises a hand, and Devon mimics him; then Mr. Bennett tilts his head, and Devon does the same, they continue going on like this for a while. I'm not sure what is happening; it's like they are connecting somehow. Whatever that is, it's an eerie sight, I must admit.

After playing that game for a few more minutes, they walk out of the room without saying a word, with Mr. Bennett leading the way. Their cocks swung and throbbed with each step, and I was no different.

Mr. Bennett stops in front of a room and slowly opens the door; inside is his oldest son, Matt, who is sleeping peacefully in only his underwear.

Matt is as hot as his dad and younger brother, with him being the most muscular of the three. Mr. Bennett and Devon walk toward him, but only Mr. Bennett starts jerking off over Matt's sleeping body; soon, he shoots a tiny black parasite from his cock, identical to the one he infected Devon with.

The tiny parasite crawled towards Matt's crotch and disappeared inside his grey underwear. I watch Matt suddenly squirm on the bed and grunt in discomfort; The way his muscles flexed during the takeover was making me leak.

When Matt woke up, he was already one of them. He stood up with an emotionless face and stared at his dad and brother; those two still had creepy smiles on their faces; seeing that, Matt also started smiling.

I really don't get the smiling thing, do they think that would make them look more human?

Still smiling, Mr. Bennett raised his right hand and waved at Matt. "Good morning, Matt." He says. It is the first time I hear the alien speak with his vessel, and he sounds just like you would expect: robotic and emotionless.

"God morning Dad," Matt replies, the smile never leaving their faces.

"Did you sleep well, son?" Mr. Bennet asks naturally, as if he isn't naked with his cock throbbing in front of both his sons.

"I slept wonderful, Dad."

"Good morning Matt, did you sleep well, my older brother?" Devon asks, his tone of voice no different than his dad and brother. There is a long silent pause, and then Devon asks again, "Good morning Matt, did you sleep well, my older brother?"

"Good morning younger brother. I slept wonderful," Matt responds and then they just keep smiling at each other like idiots. Everything looks and sounds so creepy and surreal, it's like watching aliens playing with human dolls about how they think human interactions are.

I decide to try something risky, so I step into their circle and the three of them look at me in sync, their blank eyes confused as they tried to study my presence.

I clear my throat and wave at them. "Hi, I'm the neighbor, I'm the one who let those parasitic aliens turn you three into brainless hosts."

"Oh, Welcome neighbor," Mr. Bennett says, waving back at me.

"Good morning Neighbor," Matt says, out of nowhere.

They didn't acknowledge anything I said; It's like they don't understand what I say and just mimic anything they find in their host's memories.

Either way, it was hot to see these three hunks acting like brainless idiots. I pull down my shorts and start jerking off in front of them; as I was expecting, each one started to mimic me. Mr. Bennett is the first to grab his cock and start to stroke, his sons, seeing their dad—leader—start mimicking him. Now, the four of us are jerking off, our strokes are so in sync that it feels like I'm stroking in front of a mirror. They mimicked even my moans, soon I started to cum, and so did they.

"This is going to be so much fun," I moan.

"This is going to be so much fun," they say.

[ckret2]

Chapter 60 of human Bill Cipher almost wasn't the Mystery Shack's prisoner but he's back here for some reason:

Everything you never even imagined about how Bill survived his execution.

(warning for cultists doing cultish activities in this chapter. and i don't mean "fantastical Blind Eye Society hijinks," i mean "discussing how to indoctrinate & isolate new recruits.)

####

"Hiya, Stan!" Bill Cipher beamed brilliantly. His gold tooth matched his new coat. "Didja miss me yet?"

Stan punched Bill in the nose.

Bill tumbled on his back, hand over his face. Voice tight with pain, he said, "Just so you know, I let you do that."

Stan's voice hit a pitch he hadn't been able to reach since puberty. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING ALIVE!"

Bill sat up gingerly. "Well, funny story—"

"NO! Nuh-uh, I'm finishing you properly this time!" Fists raised, Stan lunged at Bill.

Ford grabbed Stan from behind, one arm around his neck and one hooked up under his armpit. (Bill took the opportunity to scoot backward and get to his feet.) "Stanley! Stand down!"

"YOU!" Stan flung Ford's hands off and whirled around, pointing accusatorially at him. "You gave me your word! Tell me you didn't let Bill out."

"I didn't let Bill out."

Stan grabbed Ford's turtleneck. "Don't you lie to me!"

"I didn't let Bill out!" Ford ripped Stan's hands off his turtleneck. "He was already gone when I went into the kids' room."

"Then who— Who else would've known—"

Stan whirled around at a creak on the stairs. Dipper, halfway down the stairs, jumped when Stan saw him.

"DIPPER!" Stan stormed up to the stairs. "Did you help the demon escape?!"

"What, no!" Dipper took a step back up. "I don't even know how he got out! All I did was not say anything!"

"Well, who's left that could've helped him?!"

"BIIILL!" Mabel barreled down the stairs. "YOU CAME BACK!" She climbed on the stair railing, jumped off, and Bill—who'd crept inside behind Stan—was once more tackled to the ground.

Stan's hands twisted in the air like he wasn't sure whether he wanted to strangle someone, punch something, or pull out his own hair. He finally settled on curling them into fists and shaking them at God. "AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO DIDN'T KNOW THE DEMON'S ALIVE?!"

Soos, still sitting in the living room by himself, staring into space, voice hushed with horror, asked, "So who did I sweep into the flower vase..."

"Okay, family meeting!" Stan pointed at the living room, "Right now! You," he pointed at Bill, "upstairs! I don't wanna look at you and your—your stupid Las Vegas magician sequined coat!"

Bill sat up with a wince and grinned, "Oh, do you like it?" He took off his backpack and checked to see if its contents had been crushed when he was knocked down twice.

"You look like a circus clown!"

"I liked the Vegas magician thing better."

"GO!" Stan pointed up the stairs.

Bill raised his hands, rolling his eye as he started up the stairs. "Fine, fine—"

Stan grabbed Bill's wrist, making him drop his backpack. "STOP!"

"Make up your mind!"

Stan yanked one half of the enchanted friendship bracelets down over Bill's wrist. "You're not getting out again. Not on my watch."

Bill jerked his arm free, shot Stan a dirty look, and stomped up the stairs, umbrella clutched angrily in one hand and backpack in the other. Stan pulled the other half of the bracelet on.

In the living room, Ford, Dipper, and Mabel were lined up shamefacedly on the couch, like three students waiting to be lectured by the principal. Stan glowered at them each, fists on his hips. "Now, I wanna know why my own family all joined in some big secret conspiracy to help Cipher escape! Is it alien mind control?! Did you join a cult?!"

Mabel took a deep breath. "I saved him because he's my friend and I don't want him to die and he really is getting better and you'd all see it if you just gave him a chance to prove it and you just don't understand how he thinks like I do"—she took another breath—"and I promise he won't try to take over the world again just give him a chance!"

Stan's glare melted into something close to guilt. "You're... you're fine, pumpkin. I know you wouldn't have let your friend get hurt." He shot a glare at the other two conspirators. "Which is why we weren't going to tell her."

"Listen," Dipper said, "I still hate him and I don't trust him, but—but I heard part of a poem about Bill that I'm sure is a prophecy; which means he's important, we'll probably need him to save the town or something! So we can't let him die before then! He's already passed up chances to kill us and even saved Grunkle Ford and me, that proves he can restrain himself enough to be useful!" He winced, "Plus... I didn't wanna make Mabel sad. I have seen a future where she loses a friend, and it is not pretty."

Mabel leaned against Dipper. "Thanks, bro-bro."

Stan screwed up his face, but just muttered angrily under his breath about stupid prophecies and stupid life saving, and turned his glare on Ford. "Well? What's your excuse?"

Ford didn't answer, staring down at his hands, grimacing as he searched for an answer.

Stan pressed, "You told me that if you couldn't pull the trigger, you'd give me the gun. Why didn't you?"

"Because I could have pulled it! The situation was different, I—I only changed my mind because he wasn't there. If he had been, I'd have done it—"

"Would you? If you couldn't even tell me that he wasn't dead, do you really think that if he'd been right there, looking you in the eyes, you'd have done it?"

In his mind's eye, Ford could see Bill, hiding under a towel, grinning up at him with one bright eye. And Bill, collapsed beside the lake, shaking all over, sobbing so hard he didn't even notice he was clinging to Ford's stupid borrowed t-shirt like a lifeline. And Bill, staring tiredly across a chess board, telling Ford that the black king was taking the whole board down with him. And Bill, lighting up the room as he taught Ford's niece about his own long-extinct alien civilization.

And Bill, glowing golden, lighting up Ford's dream as he taught him about fifth-dimensional calculus.

Ford didn't answer.

Stan asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Softly, Ford said, "Because I don't want him to die."

Stan spread his arms in disbelief. "Well, why the hell not?!"

"Because—I'm—beginning to think that there might be a chance that Bill could..." he winced, "change. Maybe."

Stan's silence was deafening. Mabel leaned forward to stare around Dipper at Ford.

Ford rubbed his forehead. "I—it made sense yesterday, but it sounds stupid out loud."

Stan slowly shook his head. "Have you all lost your minds? You think he can change? You think he's part of some prophecy?! Y—Mabel, honey, you're the sweetest girl in the world, but you could do way better for friends than him."

Mabel sorta shrugged, sorta shook her head, sorta grimaced, and sorta nodded. "Yeah, but, I like him."

"WHY?!" Stan roared, making Mabel and Dipper both jump. "Why, why are any of you wasting your time on him?! Guys like him don't change! He's a dangerous, self-centered crook, and that's all he'll ever be. He's a rotten, greedy, lazy loser, he's only gotten as far as he has by conning guys smarter than him, he's got no regard for anybody but himself, all he does is cheat and lie, and if you let him stay in our lives he'll just ruin them! The best thing he could do for our family is—" Stan choked on a lump in his throat. "Is d-die."

The room was silent. Dipper and Mabel, leaning back into the sofa to get away from the rant, stared at him with wide eyes. Soos, over in an armchair bearing silent witness to this family drama, had his hands steepled in front of his face.

Stan couldn't look at Ford. He didn't know why Ford looked so sorrowful. Thickly, Stan asked, "All I want is to get rid of him—why don't you?"

He could hear Soos wince. "Oof."

Stan pointed at him. "Not a word. Not one word," he growled. "Fine—if none of you will deal with him properly," he cracked his knuckles, "I will."

Mabel flinched. Dipper moved to stand, "Grunkle Stan—" but stopped when Ford put a hand on his shoulder.

Stan stomped up the stairs. He'd wring that monster's stupid neck, and if it started the apocalypse then so be it—

He stopped halfway up the stairs. Bill was sitting on the steps, just around the landing corner, leaning against the wall, backpack in his lap. His soaked pant legs were dripping rainwater on the steps. "You," Stan snarled. "What are you doing?"

"What's it look like, genius? I'm trying to eavesdrop," Bill said. "So what'd they say?"

"What? What did who say about what?"

"About leaving me alive. Why did they say they don't want me dead?"

He asked like he was genuinely curious. Like he didn't know.

Stan stared at Bill.

"I have a good idea for Shooting Star, but the other two...?" Bill made an uncertain gesture with his hand. "I've got my top guesses, but I want to know what clinched the deal."

Stan couldn't kill him, either.

He'd already lost this fight. Pathetic lonely dead con artist who'd rather lose a tooth than look scared, how could Stan take him out? He understood too well. "Just—shut your stupid mouth, take off that stupid circus outfit, and get out of my sight, Cipher."

Bill bristled. "Hey." He stood. "What's that for? It's not like I did anything wrong. Sure, I got your whole family in on a conspiracy, but that's their mistake! I was just doing what I had to! You can't blame me for—"

"I don't blame you," Stan said.

"You d— You don't." Cautiously, Bill asked, "You... don't?"

"How can I?" He shrugged heavily. "It was self-defense. Ford should've known better—but I can't blame you. I'm not an idiot, I don't expect you to just lay down and die for us."

"Oh." Bill squinted at Stan, like he thought this was a trick and he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Oh. Okay." After a pause, voice uncharacteristically small and confused, he asked, "So I'm... not in trouble?"

Stan's face did a gymnastics routine. "Heck," he muttered. "No! I guess not! I don't like it, but I'm not gonna punish a guy for saving his own miserable worthless hide! Just... stay out of my way, I don't wanna see your stupid face."

"I'm just minding my own business," Bill said. He sat again and leaned on the wall, arms crossed, staring into space thoughtfully. (He didn't know what to do with a reality where he'd done something everyone hated, but nobody blamed him for it.)

Stan trudged back downstairs. Everyone was where he'd left them. He glowered at his family. They quietly waited. "Well," Stan said. "We're stuck with him now. Since somebody wasted the only bit of fuel we had that could kill him. Is everyone happy."

Nobody seemed particularly happy. Ford shifted on his seat. "Kids... you should go to bed. Stan and I need to talk."

Dipper and Mabel quickly took the opportunity to slide off the sofa and escape the room.

"Oh! Oh you bet we need to talk! You have no idea how much we need to talk—"

"Downstairs," Ford said firmly.

"What, you don't want everyone else to hear exactly what I think of your crazy stunt?"

Ford lowered his voice. "Downstairs where he can't overhear. It's important."

Stan's face twitched with the effort of suppressing more shouting; but then he growled, "Fine! But this had better be worth it. Lemme get my bathrobe, your stupid underground office is like a freezer..." He trudged from the room, grumbling. "Hey, demon! Take off your bracelet, I'm done being tied to your sorry hide." After a moment, the thread reappeared on the stair steps as they both took their ends off.

Dipper glared at Bill as he and Mabel passed him going up the stairs. Bill gave him a tiny, cheery wave. Dipper grumbled, "I can't believe you finally escaped like you wanted just to come right back."

"Hey, it wasn't my idea! Blame your sister!"

Mabel hugged him again. "Thanks for coming back."

Bill said, "Thanks for absorbing Stan's wrath for me!" He laughed.

The kids ran upstairs.

And Bill placed the tip of his broken umbrella on the stair step and quietly walked back down, winding the enchanted bracelets' thread into loops as he went.

####

Soos looked at Ford and shyly raised a hand. "So... when you said the kids should go to bed, did that include..."

"Yes, Soos," Ford said. "You should go too."

"Yes." He quietly pumped a fist. "One of the kids." As he left, he said, "Hey, Bill. Sweet coat."

Ford looked over. Hovering in the shadows of the entryway, almost glowing gold from the living room's light, Bill peered into the room. He was by the coat rack, hanging the bracelets back up. Bill said, "Fancy meeting you here."

Ford sighed irritably. "I'm not in the mood to talk, Cipher."

"Don't flatter yourself, I'm not down here for you." Bill gestured at the sofa Ford was on. "I want my bed back."

Right. Ford stood so Bill could retrieve the cushions.

As he grabbed the first cushion, Bill smirked at Ford. "So..." (Not here for you. Sure.) "What was it that swayed you?"

Ford just glowered at Bill.

Bill pressed, "Was it that handy list of starter spells I gave you? I doubt it was my chess prowess, that wasn't my best playing." He laughed, "What am I asking for! You humans are suckers for a life debt. You can consider it paid off—a life for a life, fair and square—"

"It wasn't any of those."

Bill's smile disappeared. "Then what?" he asked. "Don't tell me you did it out of the goodness of your heart, I've seen enough of yours not to buy that—"

"It was Mabel."

Bill dropped his first cushion on top of the second and awkwardly tried to get his arms around both. "What'd she say about me?"

"Nothing." Nothing that had changed Ford's mind, anyway. "It's how you treat her."

"How I—?" Bill was so baffled that he almost looked offended. "What are you talking about? I haven't been treating her any way at all! I'm just... just goofing around with her. She's a fun kid."

"Exactly," Ford said. "If you can treat just one odd little girl with kindness, for no reason—then maybe, just maybe, there's hope for you." He sighed; he felt the sternness in his face slacken. He felt tired. "At least... I want to hope there is."

There was a flash of something Ford couldn't recognize in Bill's face. Something like pain; something nearly like guilt. It was gone almost as soon as he saw it.

"Well, sure," Bill said flatly, glancing away like Ford had lost his interest. "Why wouldn't I be nice to her? I like weird freaks." He managed to stand with his awkward armload and turned away, cutting the conversation off. "Anyway. It's been a long night. I'm going to bed. You should too," he shot back over his shoulder from the bottom of the stairs, "when's the last time you got decent sleep? Your eye bags are more... bag than... eye." Bill cringed at himself. "Don— Don't say anything. I'm tired." He headed up the stairs, his umbrella hooked over his left elbow. They'd have to get that umbrella back.

Tomorrow. Ford couldn't be bothered tonight. Bill wasn't killing anybody before morning.

Ford leaned on the doorframe where he could still see Bill. "I hid your hoodie in the box of spare bedding in the loft. Under the spare pillows."

Bill stopped halfway up the stairs and turned back toward Ford. "You didn't incinerate it?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I assumed you'd be back here eventually. I thought you'd want it."

Bill's face was unreadable.

He turned away from Ford and continued upstairs without saying a word.

Mabel's crayon drawing of Bill—"YOU CAN CHANGE. I BELIEVE IN YOU!"—felt like it was burning a hole in Ford's pocket.

####

Saturday, 7:52 a.m.

Bill stole a handful of loose change out of a tip jar and timed his exit so he walked out of the Triple Digit Truck Stop just as a man walked in and kindly held the door for him.

Gravity Falls really was a charming little town. Behind the times. The Triple Digit Truck Stop had expanded significantly in the past decades to add a convenience store and additional amenities for travelers, but the diner that made up the heart of it had barely changed. Same patchy grassy parking lot, same giant lumberjack sculpture watching over the cars... same public pay phones around the left side of the building.

He put in a few coins, punched in the number he'd memorized, and leaned against the wall while he waited to be answered. "Hey, Sue! Guess who?" A smile curled across his face. "That's right. Hey, how many people can say they've been personally called by god?" He laughed. "My Star Boy told you what preparations to make, right? Good. It's time. Midnight. Just north of the county line. I'll see you there."

Then he hung up the phone, left the clearing around the diner, and vanished into the trees.

Unless something dramatically changed, he'd be meeting his dear devotee that night.

####

9:30 p.m.

Something had dramatically changed.

His disloyal devotee had saved him.

It was a long walk to the county line. If Bill wanted to make his midnight meeting with his cultist, he had to leave before sunset.

He was still up on the cliff when the last of the light left the valley, pacing restlessly back and forth—first toward the side of the cliff overlooking the town (he could see the Mystery Shack's roof through the trees), then toward the side aimed away from the valley, toward the county line.

He should go. He needed to go. He needed to go now. He needed to go two hours ago.

He'd spent three out of the last four days hiking all over this town's forests and caves. In the last thirty-six hours he'd barely gotten a quick nap. (In the morning, when Mabel heard that Ford had covered for Bill, she'd come straight here.) He told himself he didn't have the energy for the hike to the county line. (What if Mabel got here and couldn't find him?)

If he didn't show up tonight, surely his cultist would try again tomorrow night. He'd go tomorrow.

It was fine. Everything would work out for him. Everything always worked out for him.

####

Sunday, 4:10 p.m.

He'd been right. Mabel had come straight here. As the platform lifted him back up, Bill watched her wheel her bike through the trees, slowly heading toward the main road back into town.

For a midsummer day, it was chilly in the rain.

Don't you wanna be in the shack with your only friend on Earth? Would you really rather spend the rest of summer in some dumb old busted alien ship?

Interesting question.

####

8:30 p.m.

It was a long walk to the county line. Bill packed his supplies—he didn't have that much to pack, he'd only ever needed enough food and shelter to last him a couple of days. He flung one backpack over each shoulder, closed and concealed the alien ship fragment, and shrunk his floating platform with the height-altering flashlight so he could wrap it in a shirt and stuff it in his second backpack.

And then, under the cover of the rain and the falling night, he began the hike north.

####

10:45 p.m.

Even to Bill's eyes, the weirdness barrier around Gravity Falls was typically invisible. He could only see it where something touched it or passed through it, making waves travel out in circles from the point of contact. The circles glowed a dull coppery color at their peaks. Tonight, with the rain falling, the barrier rippled as though the rain were falling on the surface of a lake, and the whole thing glowed a faint filmy orange.

Precisely in the middle of the barrier was a sign marking the border of Roadkill County.

Ten feet beyond the barrier, just off the edge of the road, headlights and engine off and lurking beneath the trees, was a black car.

Bill walked straight through the weirdness barrier as though it wasn't even there. He didn't feel a thing.

The car engine started and the headlights turned on. Bill didn't even blink. The driver's door flew open and Sue popped out, fumbling to open an umbrella as she did. "Bill Cipher?"

"Hiya, Sue! You made it early."

"Oh, thank goodness." She hurried up to him. "I was so worried—I didn't know if I'd come to the wrong place, or if something had happened... And when I didn't hear anything from you the next day, and Gideon didn't know anything..." (Great, she'd gotten Gideon involved?) She started to offer Bill her umbrella, realized he was already holding a closed umbrella as a cane, looked up as she registered that no rain was falling on him, then stared at him in wonder.

"Yeah, sorry about that—an unavoidable emergency came up, I couldn't get out and couldn't call." And he'd gotten a pretty good night's sleep. "But look at you, loyal enough to come try again the next night! You're a rare sort of human soul, you know that? This world could use more people like you."

Sue flushed with pleasure. "Oh... thank you, I..."

Bill tilted his head toward the car. "Let's not talk out in the rain, huh? Another car's coming by in about a minute, I think we shouldn't be seen."

"Right! Of course, my lord." She hurried back to the car.

"There's a terrific diner just a few minutes up the road. We can talk there, it's safe enough. Cute decor, too—have you ever seen a twenty foot tall lumberjack...?" He paused uncertainly by the car. "Hey, Sue? This'll sound silly—but I'm gonna need you to get the passenger door."

The car's interior lights flashed on as Sue opened the passenger door, long enough to catch the glittery purple nail polish on Bill's fingers. Sue gave it a curious look. Even though they'd just gotten painted three days ago, the polish was already scuffed again from his escape; but a few tiny flower stickers were still sticking to his nails.

Bill grinned. "There's a thirteen-year-old staying in the shack. Sweetest thing. She's a real artist."

"Oh! I see." A smile stretched across Sue's face. Bill suspected it wasn't for Mabel. That's right, your god's good with children. He lets little girls give him goofy manicures and proudly shows them off. Chicks dig that kind of thing.

When they were both buckled in, Sue hesitated, holding the steering wheel. "Lord Cipher... I wanted to say... if my... actions the last time we met were out of line in any way, I want to apologize—"

Bill placed a finger under her chin, turned her face toward him, and kissed her lightly. (He was so smooth. He mentally congratulated himself.) "Sorry if you got confused. I had to keep the outsider from getting suspicious, get it?"

She sucked in a small breath. "I... yes. Yes, of course."

"Don't trust anything I say or do when unbelievers are listening. The only time you can be sure I'm telling the truth..." his voice dropped to a near whisper, "is when we're alone."

He could see the goosebumps raise on her arms. "Yes, my lord."

He was so good—and his worshipers were so, so stupid. That was why they followed him. "Now, let's get to that diner, huh?"

As they got on the road, he studied his nails; to a normal human it was too dark to see, but to Bill's eyes they still glittered bright purple. The question Mabel had asked him earlier had been playing over and over in his mind all afternoon: Would you really rather spend the rest of summer in some dumb old busted alien ship?

Naive, trusting kid.

She really thought she was his best option.

######

"... And then, as if directly launching a psychic attack on my ethereal essence and forcing me into a mortal fleshly form wasn't bad enough," Bill said, "they imprisoned me! And get this: just to rub salt in the wound, they thought it would be funny to take a divine muse who's spent an eternity helping mortals build doorways between dimensions—and curse it so it can't open doors. I have to ask my kidnappers to open the fridge for me. Have you ever heard something so condescending?"

"Insane. That's just sadistic," Sue said. "After all you tried to do for them."

"You don't know what a comfort it is to hear a human say that."

They fell silent as someone approached. A waitress stopped next to their table. "Hey, I—Goldie!"

"Dani Miranda! Hey, how's it going! I see you found the treasure map I left you."

Dani was wearing two large gold earrings, two heavy gold necklaces each with a large gem-encrusted pendant, and four rings. "Yes, oh my gosh. I cannot believe you knew where a whole treasure chest was and you just gave it to me? That's the nicest thing ever?"

That's right, it was. "What are you doing working here! You can retire on that kind of money. Unless you want to rebury all that gold yourself?" He'd respect that.

"I'm still getting it appraised. Besides, I like talking to the late night travelers."

Bill ordered a strawberry banana shake, the monthly pancake special—which meant three quarters of the pile covered in stripes of strawberry sauce and cream cheese frosting and one quarter covered in a big puddle of blueberry sauce—floppy bacon, three eggs prepared "any way except scrambled," a cup of bleu cheese dressing, a cup of salsa, and a bottle of hot sauce. Sue ordered a water and a small grilled chicken salad.

(Bill tried to remember whether the Death Valley girls were one of his "purify the flesh by practicing harsh asceticism" cults or his "hedonistically revel in the pleasures of the senses" cults, in case he needed to make up a justification for why god was ordering pancakes instead of practicing what he preached—something something a human body containing a divine soul burns through much more energy, maybe—but no, he had the Death Valley girls on psychedelics, that was a hedonism cult. He kept them controlled through drugs, exhaustion, and poor air conditioning, not starvation. Small grilled chicken salad, indeed. The only thing stronger than cult brainwashing was diet industry brainwashing.)

When Dani was safely out of earshot, Sue lowered her voice and asked, "'Goldie'?"

"My captors decided to keep my identity secret so an angry mob won't execute me before they get the chance," Bill said. "The entire town's against the All-Seeing Eye named Bill; but only a handful know there's anything unusual about the handsome human in the Mystery Shack they've been calling Goldie."

She looked taken aback at the angry mob comment. "The entire town's against you?" Her gaze roved around the Triple Digit Truck Stop, taking in a lone trucker several tables away and a bored waiter scrolling on his phone behind the counter. "Is there anyone we can trust?"

"Gideon's on our side, of course—good kid—but, well... he isn't completely reliable. You know what happens with child celebrities. The fame and fortune spoils 'em a bit."

"I never would have guessed from his television appearances. He seems so... gracious."

Bill choked back a laugh. "He'll grow up all right—he's just going through a phase. But I'd rather not trust him with more involvement than necessary until he... matures a little."

"I understand." Sue sighed. "It's too bad the dawn of the new age didn't begin closer to us, where we could have assisted your work."

She didn't have the guts to question her god, but Bill heard the implicit question: why here? Why in some tiny tourist town that didn't even like tourists, buried in a forest in the middle of nowhere, amongst the ignorant ungrateful masses? "Yeah—too bad," Bill agreed with a shrug. "But hey, I didn't choose where the veil between worlds would be thinnest! There's energy in this town like nowhere else on your planet. It's the only place where a machine built with modern human technology is strong enough to punch through dimensions—and that's with the help of extraterrestrial equipment."

Besides, he didn't like Death Valley.

Dani returned from the kitchen. "One chicken salad, and one breakfast combo with the pancakes of the month."

"Great! I'm starving." Bill picked up the little plastic cup of salsa and dumped it into his shake. Sue choked on her water.

Dani's brows shot up. "Is—is that good?"

"What can I say, I've got the palate of an alien." (Sue choked on the sip she'd taken to recover from her first sip of water.) Bill poured the bleu cheese over his eggs, then started drizzling hot sauce on his pancakes. "Anyway, it keeps people from stealing my food."

"I guess so!" Dani laughed. She hovered near their table a little too long; and then she said, "Okay, I've got to ask: how did you know where to find buried treasure? I mean...!"

"I know lots of things." He fought down a smirk. "I happen to be psychic."

"No way." But she looked curious. She wanted to believe.

Bill had had a hunch that giving her that treasure would pay off. Nice to know his understanding of human nature was still sharp, even when he couldn't double-check the far future to see how his meddling would turn out. "If I wasn't psychic, would I have known your last name? Or where that treasure chest was?" he asked. "Or that you keep three pictures of tarantulas and a Canadian twenty in your wallet? Or that you have recurring dreams of trying to hide in sewer manholes from a fire-breathing dragon?" While he waited for her to process that, he triumphantly dug into his pancakes. He had a feeling he wouldn't be eating much more before his food got cold.

Dani's smile had disappeared. The blood drained from her face. "How...?"

"I'm... let's say, connected to a higher plain. I can see dimensions most humans can't."

"It's true," Sue piped up. (Bill took the opportunity to dig into an egg. Oh, the bleu cheese was a great choice.) "The insights h—she's offered me and so many others have been... life-changing. World-changing." Good girl.

"Insights?" Dani asked weakly.

Bill shrugged modestly. "You could call me a 'spiritual teacher,' I suppose, but that makes it sound like I'm preaching some kind of religion! All I do is teach people what I know and tell people what I see if I think it'll help 'em. Like if I see a bunch of buried gold that could change the life of a nice kid working minimum wage."

Dani reflexively touched one of her necklaces.

"You didn't think going to parties in togas was my full-time job, did you?" Bill laughed.

Dani laughed feebly too. She hadn't moved away. She was closer now, her thigh leaning against the edge of the table. "That's... wow. I've never met an actual psychic before. I mean—I went to one of Lil Gideon's live shows, but that was before the big scandal and his arrest."

"You hate to see a pillar of the community go down like that, don't you?"

"What..." Dani swallowed hard, lowered her voice, and asked, "What kinds of things does a psychic 'teach'?"

Got her. "It depends! Everyone's got different lessons they need to learn, right?" He slid out of his seat, nodded toward Sue, and said, "Excuse me ladies—I'd love to elaborate, but I'm afraid I need to hit the restroom. Sue, why don't you tell her what you've learned about, give her a concrete idea of what I do."

"It would be my honor."

As Bill passed Sue, he leaned over and whispered, "Don't mention triangles." And then he got out of her way, to let Sue do what his Death Valley girls did best.

####

When he returned to his seat, Sue leaned over the table and murmured, "I got her phone number and email."

"Good work. I bet she'd be an easy recruit."

"I bet. She's already asking how much lessons cost."

"What'd you say?"

"You offer your help to others for free, but cover your living expenses and travel costs with donations."

"Attagirl." It had been easier to use that line when he was a triangle—of course our great mentor and muse doesn't need money, he's above such earthly concerns; his mortal devotees who spread his word, though, subsist on donations... It was better for his image. They'd just have to modify their fundraising pitch for a while. "This is exactly what I hoped would happen when I invited you to this diner. I knew you wouldn't let me down."

The ghost of a smile flitted across Sue's face. "I'll follow up with her by phone. It's a pity we don't have enough time to really put the pressure on her in person."

"Why not? I bet we'd win her over in less than a week."

"I've already contacted the main compound in Death Valley. We've got plane tickets for first thing in the morning."

(Bill's blood ran cold. Somehow, it hadn't dawned on him until that moment that escaping Gravity Falls meant leaving Gravity Falls.)

"I have a motel room a few towns over, it was the closest I could find to Gravity Falls," Sue went on. "It's a straight shot to the Portland airport in the morning. Everyone's so excited—"

"Hold on," Bill said, figuring out what he was about to say next as he went. "There's been a last minute change of plans. I'm staying in Gravity Falls."

Sue stared at him. "But—my lord! You're a prisoner here, why wouldn't you come home to the people who love you?"

Love you, love you, love you. The word love alone was nearly enough to make him change his mind again. How he missed being revered. He could picture them now, these zealots who adored him so much they'd willingly bend their bodies into a throne to lift him up—and he didn't even need to turn them to stone first. It would be so easy to get away from all his human enemies forever...

Don't you wanna be in the shack with your only friend on Earth?

He shook his head. "Two reasons," he said. "One: no matter what, eventually I'll have to come back. The Age of the Triangle can only dawn in Gravity Falls. Staying makes it that much easier to get things started again. And two... I'm—working on a couple of potential recruits." He was? Wow. He was impressed at himself.

"You mean Gideon, or...?"

"No, others. One's the girl who helped me escape." He drummed his fingers on the table, calling attention to his purple fingernails. "She's a good kid. Lots of potential. Could be a real leader someday—she's a natural fit for our new world. She's got a few strings, but I'm working on helping her untie 'em."

Strings was a term that Mary, the leader of the Death Valley compound, had come up with and spread to the other girls: it meant petty mortal concerns that could tangle and tie you up, dragging you away from pursuing true spiritual growth and preparing for a better, liberated world. Your childhood religious beliefs were a string. The misguided ideas about morality you learned from the secular world were a string. Your job was a string. Your spouse was a string. Your family was a lot of strings. The intervention where your friends sat you down and told you they were worried about how much you'd changed lately and they were afraid you'd joined some kind of cult was a string. You had to cut them all.

And then Bill could tie on his puppet strings in their place.

"How old is she?"

"Thirteen. Fourteen at the end of the summer."

"Oh, wow—younger than I thought. That's great, kids are more open-minded," Sue said. "Though if she decides to join, it'll be hard to get her away from her family without a kidnapping charge..."

"Ugh, you don't need to remind me. I remember how we almost lost Karen and Jennifer. The legal system in this country is a mess." Bill had needed to torture that divorce court judge with nightmares for weeks before he caved and awarded Jennifer's mother sole custody so they could move to the Death Valley compound together. "But hey, got some good news: the other potential recruit. You remember the 'ex-cultist' who gave you gals my location. He turned on the humans who are pushing to execute me. He's almost back on our side. And he just so happens to be the girl's great-uncle. The family trusts him. If we can get 'em to pass her to him as her guardian, then she's ours. We can work out how to get her to the compound later." That was a lie. Bill was never handing Mabel to the Death Valley girls. She was better than them.

Sue looked less enthusiastic for this ex-cultist than she had for the girl. "Is he one of your captors...?"

Bill waved off her concerns, frowning. "Look. He's obviously been corrupted by the outside world. I lost contact with him for thirty years and he came back with more strings than a mop head. But I don't think he's beyond purification. He's already shown major improvement, now that he's once again under the shining light of my influence."

"But, this town..." Sue shook her head doubtfully. "Cipher, my lord, they nearly killed you once. You'd risk staying just to try to recruit two people? One who's already betrayed you—?"

"Yes!" Bill snapped. Sue flinched. "They're worth it." (He didn't question his own vehemence, his own anger at their value being doubted. He rarely questioned himself. If he asked questions, he might get answers.) "Don't you dare let this face fool you—I'm still your all-seeing god and I know what I'm doing better than you do. These two are perfect. The Age of the Triangle needs them. The traitor will repent. He WILL worship me again."

Sue stared at him with wide eyes; for a split second her breath froze in fear. She gave him a tiny nod. "Of course, my lord. My apologies."

Dani appeared at their table again. "Hey, how was everything?"

And Bill was immediately all good cheer. "Terrific, thanks!"

"Great!"

As Sue reached for her wallet, Dani waved her off. "Oh, don't worry about it—it's on the house." She winked. "I think I can afford to cover it."

Already making donations to the cause. Pretty soon all the profits from her treasure chest would be in one of Bill's bank accounts.

As they headed back out into the rain, Sue said, "So, we're staying in town at least long enough to pick up another three recruits?"

"Maybe four," Bill said. "There's another kid in town I think needs some help finding a direction."

"Another? Is this one old enough to leave home alone?"

"Not for a couple more years—but she's dying to get out just as fast as she can," Bill said. "I think you can handle her."

####

They parked just up the road from the Mystery Shack and turned the headlights off.

"Here's everything Gideon said you wanted," Sue said, handing over a paper bag. "Candles, matchbook, knife, pens, spare notebooks, five thousand dollars, a burner phone, new clothes..."

Bill pulled out a flashy golden sequin-covered coat. "Oooh!" He dug around until he also found a button-up shirt and a pair of black opera gloves. He shrugged on the shirt.

"That's... what Gideon said you requested, right?" Sue eyed the tacky, gaudy coat uncertainly.

"As long as I'm in this body, I don't have the benefit of showing up glowing in people's dreams when I have something they need to hear! I need to make them pay attention any way I can." Also, normal people had boring tastes and sequins were fantastic. He buttoned up the shirt.

"I also brought—I—thought you might want..." She held out a large pendant on a thin chain. It was an eye inscribed inside a triangle inscribed inside a circle; rays radiated out from the eye, as though it were the sun. Bill's heart leaped into his throat at the sight of it.

He realized this was the first time since his death that he'd seen his own face in any form other than a thirteen-year-old's artwork—and his own corpse. His face was ubiquitous on this planet; it was plastered on everything from money to buildings to common consumer goods. Its conspicuous absence in Gravity Falls was uncanny.

"I'm not sure if it's inappropriate—"

"It's perfect." Bill snatched the necklace from her and fiddled with the clasp until he got it on. "Exactly what I need. What did I always say about your intuition?" He considered the gloves, decided he wasn't ready to pull them on quite yet, and shrugged on the coat instead.

She restrained a pleased smile at the flattery. "Thank you, my lord."

She looked out the windshield. Just up the road was a flock of wooden signs and arrows pointing which way to turn to reach the Mystery Shack. Bill wondered whether Sue's eyes had adjusted enough to the dark that she could see their silhouettes. Sue said, "If you're not coming back to us yet, then I suppose it's time to..."

"Hold on a minute," Bill said. "You've been a bigger help tonight than you know. If it weren't for your loyalty and diligence, I wouldn't have been able to consider escaping." Blah blah blah. The truth was he'd been soaking in her reverence for the past hour and a half, like a dehydrated cactus under a cloudburst, and he wasn't leaving until he'd sucked every drop from her. "There isn't a lot I can do for you right now, trapped in this form, but you deserve a reward." He leaned toward her, his elbow against her car seat, hand on the headrest. "Let me express my gratitude the way I would have if we hadn't been interrupted during our last meeting." He tilted his head toward the back seat.

She froze as she processed the offer; and then she leaned in to kiss him hungrily.

####

"The tide's changing in this town," Bill said, pulling on his gloves, smoothing his hair back into place, putting his new coat back on. "The dawn is coming. You should stay in town now that our enemies are losing their teeth."

"Yes, Lord Cipher," she said breathlessly, still trying to get her wits about her.

(From what Bill had eavesdropped between her and Dani while he was pretending to be in the restroom, he was right that she'd been one of his "dissatisfied housewife" converts. This was probably the first time she'd ever been touched by somebody who understood anatomy. Unfortunately, she didn't know how to return the favor. But he'd been touched by reverent hands, he'd tasted tears, he'd heard a voice whine "Bill, my god, my god, my god—" That would have to hold him for a while.)

"And ditch the rental. Buy a used car," Bill said. "There's a place in town called Gleeful Auto Sales. Ask Bud for the best car on the lot, pay whatever he asks—and tell him Mr. Locke sent you."

"'Gleeful' as in...?"

"His father. My Star Boy was the only person in town who supported me—and the town's turned on his family for it. They could use our help."

Sue pursed her lips in displeasure. "Of course."

Bill gestured toward his door. "I think we've put this off long enough."

While he waited for her to get his door, he slung his two backpacks over each shoulder. Under his breath, he muttered, "'Coffee break's over; back on your heads.'"

Sue opened the door; he picked up his umbrella and stepped out into the rain.

As he walked back to his prison, he tucked his necklace beneath his shirt.

Bill reminded himself that he didn't have anything to be afraid of. Ford had thrown away the one shot that could have killed him. He was safe.

####

1:20 a.m.

As Stan followed Ford into his underground study, he shot a glance at the barren far end of the room. He grumbled, "Nice to see you haven't started putting triangle posters back up."

"I'm not..." Ford sighed in irritation. "Never mind."

"So what's so important that you had to drag me down to your nerd cave? If this isn't good—"

"I didn't waste our shot."

"What?"

At his metal worktable, Ford unlatched the Quantum Destabilizer's carrying case and opened it. "You said I wasted the only fuel we had. I didn't." He detached the NowUSeeitNowUDontium's fuel tank and held it out. The needle on the side indicated it was about a quarter full—nowhere near its full capacity, but enough for one shot, and just as much as they'd brought home from Fiddleford's.

Stan gaped. "But... hold on—we saw that shot through the walls. How the heck did you fake...?"

"Before he started developing a process to generate Dontium, Fiddleford came up with a power adaptor that could plug into the town's electricity." Ford picked up the power cord wound up in the carrying case. "He determined that it only gave the Destabilizer enough power to operate like a laser, not destroy matter and energy, so we still needed to develop the Dontium... but, I still had the cord on hand."

####

Saturday, 12:07 p.m.

Ford looked at the dummy. Looked at the note.

And then he lay the note on the dummy, knelt by the edge of the loft, opened his case, and removed the Quantum Destabilizer.

He slid out its fuel tank, returned it to the case, and pulled out the cord.

He climbed down to the bedroom; unplugged the room's air conditioning unit from its dedicated higher voltage wall socket; and plugged in the Quantum Destabilizer's cord.

In the loft, trying to figure out how to plug the other end of the cord into the Quantum Destabilizer, he was suddenly struck by the hair-raising feeling that someone was watching him. He whipped around; the eye on Bill's hood stared at him resentfully.

Ford stared back at it a moment; then he stood, pulled the hoodie off the dummy, and stuffed it into a nearby box.

He knelt. He plugged in the cable. He carefully lined up the shot with the dummy.

He fired.

####

12:09 p.m.

The atmosphere abruptly grew eerily quiet and still as the unplugged air conditioning unit fell silent. There was a shrill, whistling shriek and a blast of blue-white light so brilliant it pierced the cracks of the wooden boards in the attic bedroom's walls.

Every light in the house went out as the Quantum Destabilizer's power adapter drained every drop of electricity in town.

####

12:10 p.m.

The air was hot, stagnant, and stuffy. There was a pile of ashes three feet in front of Ford's knees.

Ford heard Dipper and Stan come into the bedroom and climb the ladder. He was seized by an urge to sweep away the ashes and the evidence of his trick before they could realize what he'd done:

The Quantum Destabilizer, at full power, completely destroyed all matter and energy.

It didn't leave behind ashes.

####

Monday, 1:23 a.m.

Ford said, "Bill left a letter in the attic asking me to help cover his getaway. If I didn't fire the gun, Bill would have known I'd told you he escaped. But if he could see the Quantum Destabilizer firing, he'd think I'd chosen his side. The only way to lure him back to the shack was by making him think I'd used up the only substance we have that could destroy him." He muttered, "Granted, I'd assumed he'd try to contact me secretly rather than knock on the door in the middle of the night, but..."

Stan gaped at Ford. Then he burst into loud laughter. "Sixer, you tricky sonova! I don't believe it!" He socked his arm. "I oughta retire from the conning business and hand it over to you!"

A smile slowly crept up Ford's face.

Stan pointed with his thumb over his shoulder at the elevator. "So we can go up there and finish him off now, right? Just wait for him to fall asleep, and...?"

Ford's smile disappeared. "No."

"N—What do you mean, 'no'?"

"I..." He took a deep breath as he chose his words. "I was serious, earlier, when I... said I want to give him a chance."

"Wh—? Still? Ford, come on, you can't think he deserves it?"

"No. Of course not. Not even close." Ford didn't hesitate. "But... does he need to deserve a chance to get one? I wonder if maybe Mabel's on to something. If he could be better, he can't show us unless we give him the second chance—before he's earned it." He sounded like a lunatic. "He can't earn it if he's dead."

Stan looked for a moment like he wanted to argue; and then something painful flashed through his eyes; and then he looked away from Ford, scowling to himself as he thought. He sighed heavily. "Yeah. Okay. Fine. Darn it, I don't wanna do it either. The creep's actually starting to grow on me. Like some kind of foot fungus."

Ford huffed. "What's important is, if we give him a chance and he throws it away, I haven't left us unarmed." He gestured to the unplugged fuel tank.

Stan looked at the tank; then looked at Ford. "You could've told us about the power cord trick yesterday, and you didn't." Stan crossed his arms. "Be honest. Do you really think, if it came down to it, you'd be able to pull the trigger now?"

"No." And again Ford didn't hesitate. "I want to believe I could; but I... don't trust myself. Yesterday morning, I never would have thought I'd decide against executing him for any reason. I know Bill's playing games with me, and yet I'm still playing along—so what else might I do?" He shrugged helplessly. He hated that Bill could still take control of his mind—even when he couldn't physically get inside it. "To some extent, he's gotten into all our heads."

Stan grimaced, but he didn't argue.

"That's why I think Fiddleford should keep the Quantum Destabilizer. He's never been taken in by Bill's tricks. If it becomes necessary, he won't hesitate."

"You know the situation's bad when Old Man McGucket's the voice of reason," Stan muttered. "But, I like that idea.  We can drop it off with him in the morning."

Ford sighed. "He's probably spent the last two days thinking Bill's dead. He won't be happy to see us."

As they walked back to the elevator, Stan said, "Maybe leaving Bill alive isn't an end-of-the-world bad idea. How much trouble can he get in when he can't escape that magic barrier around town?"

"That's true," Ford said. "He's essentially harmless—at least to the rest of the universe."

Ford didn't have anything to be afraid of. Bill was trapped in the weirdness barrier; and he couldn't even leave the shack without help. They were safe.

####

As fancy as his new coat looked, Bill was was grateful to crawl back into the comfortingly formless body-obscuring shelter of his hoodie. He pulled his hood over his face, curled up on his usual cushions (sigh) in his usual spot (sigh), and quickly fell asleep.

And began to dream.

And, in his dream, saw through his nearby eyes.

In his sleep, he could see the attic from where he lay on his cushions. He sat up, realized his vision was crooked, straightened out his hood, and stood; and he began sleepwalking.

He crept silently downstairs. He walked backwards into the gift shop. He walked up to a spinning rack of keychains that Soos had set up on the display case, took off his necklace, and hung it from one of the hooks.

He pulled aside the curtain hiding the ladder to the roof.

Bill was very good at lying. Bill was very good at lying to himself. No, that wasn't true—Bill had never lied to himself in his life, and he was willing to kill anyone who tried to say he had. Bill didn't tell himself lies; he told himself what should be the truth. Believing in a new reality was the first step toward making it real. All you had to do was lie until you weren't lying anymore—and then, you'd never lied at all. It was very simple.

He'd spent billions of years swimming in and out of dreams, until he was more comfortable with how reality worked in dreams than he was with how reality worked in actual reality; and there was no other state of existence where the line between truth and lie was blurriest. Unlike the physical world, where altering reality tended to require a little more actual work, in a dream, lying until it came true really was as simple as thinking about your new truth.

That was all it took. One bright, lucid thought to shine order through the confused fog of the subconscious.

Bill was getting good at lucid dreaming.

Bill was dreaming now.

A couple of weeks ago, Bill had heard Wendy called the trap doors in the ceiling "roof lids."

No, that wasn't true. A couple of weeks ago, Bill had heard Wendy call the roof lids "roof lids," because that was what they were. Bill couldn't open doors, didn't have the first idea of what to do with a door, but he could open lids. Jar lids. Pot lids. Toilet lids. He'd practiced with toilet lids—they had hinges, that made them the most similar to roof lids. If he could open all those lids, he could open these lids.

As he stared, the trap doors changed, in the way that dream images had of swimming and shifting dizzily before your eyes, into roof lids.

He climbed the ladder, pushed up the roof lid, climbed through; and then opened the second one that led onto the roof. He moved so silently. The rickety rungs and old wooden boards didn't even creak beneath his footsteps. He climbed out, sleepwalked his way to the roof hangout spot, and jumped off the roof.

He descended, slow as a feather, to land lightly on the ground, as though gravity hardly touched him.

Almost a month ago, on his birthday, Stan had taken off his gold chain and chucked it off into the forest so he could put on his birthday gift instead. Bill had watched enviously from the window. Now, triumphantly, he scooped up the long-coveted chain and wrapped it several times around his wrist.

And then he went to the tree where he'd hung up his second backpack full of contraband and retrieved it.

There were several pine trees right next to the shack. As near-weightless as Bill was in his dream, it was easy for him to climb one of the trees and get back on the roof.

In the gift shop, the vending machine swung open as Stan and Ford returned to the house level. They went into the living room, heading toward bed. The All-Seeing Eye hanging on the keychain rack watched as the door swung shut behind them. After waiting a few more seconds to ensure they were gone, Bill slid down onto the ladder, shut the roof lid, and jumped noiselessly to the floor. He retrieved his necklace from the keychain rack.

This was a vending machine. It wasn't a door. It clearly wasn't a door. Bill punched in the vending machine's code and stepped back as it swung aside for him. He crept down the stairs.

This was an elevator. The elevator had doors, and he didn't know how to open them, but he wasn't worrying about those. The doors would sort themselves out somehow. All he cared about was the elevator. He was NOT trying to open the doors. He wasn't even thinking about opening the doors. He pushed the button to call the elevator.

The elevator doors slid open. See, just like he'd thought: the doors took care of themselves.

He pushed the button for the lowest floor. The doors slid shut.

As he rode down, he wove his new necklace's thin chain between the links of Stan's much thicker chain. Oh yeah. That looked much better. 

The doors opened again into the interdimensional portal's control room.

He put on his necklace and stepped out. It was about time he made it back here. Bill really should have taken more time to check this place out at the start of summer. Why had he been in such a rush to kill the Pines? He'd had time travel. He could have rebuilt the entire portal by himself, won the lotto in Texas, spent a week in a seven star hotel, watched the Titanic sink, become President Trembley's First Lady, gotten Mysterious Mo's autograph, planted a NASA rocket in an Aztec temple just to give those ancient alien morons an undeserved but funny win, and then come back to finish the job.

Well, hindsight, whatever. At least he had a list of things to do if he ever got his hands on that time tape again. Anyway, he was back now.

He didn't think he'd need to be asleep to get back into the gift shop, and he probably needed his full brain turned on for the task ahead. He pulled his hood off, opened his eyes, and woke up.

The world looked so much less malleable.

He fished a notebook and red and black pens from his backpack, picked his way through the rubble of the portal, and began taking notes in Plaintext on how many parts were salvageable. Every few minutes, he flipped a page forward to begin work on blueprints for a new portal.

####

(And that concludes... season 1. idk out of how many seasons, but it sure feels like a season finale, don't it?

Next week's The Book Of Bill y'all! I'll be posting a chapter, but which chapter depends on TBOB. If TBOB is either compatible with the backstory I've got for Bill, or so wildly incompatible that there's no way I can reconcile my backstory so don't bother trying, I'll be posting a flashback chapter! But if TBOB is compatible enough that i MIGHT be able to reconcile it with my backstory with a lot of editing, I'll be posting the first chapter of "season 2" to give me time to edit the flashback. We'll find out next Tuesday!

In the meantime, a whole lot happened in this chapter, and I can't wait to hear what y'all think—about this chapter, about everything that's happened so far, about what's coming up, whatever!)

[elysianightsss]

La da de da viking Price for the win🛡️🌺

Your heavy snow boots trudged through the thick mounds of pure white snow, the freezing breeze was pinching and nipping at your cheeks. The cold had began to hurt your nose as you breathed, the back of your throat dry. Trying your hardest to keep warm, you shove your chin and mouth further into the top of your coat and breathe out hot air.

You only wanted to hunt for food and go back home, but seeing as you couldn’t find any animals near your little cabin, you had to venture elsewhere for the hunt. Something you annoyingly regretted the further away from home you got.

An exaggerated sigh left you for the twentieth time today as you knelt down on the ground feeling the snow start to soak into the material of your trousers. Pulling your bow off of your body and an arrow from the quiver that was strapped to your back. You drew back the string of your bow, holding the arrow steadily in place.

Closing your eyes, you waited. Listening oh so carefully, for anything. The sound of any animal to make itself known to you. A while passed, all you could hear was the soft wind and a nearby steam trickling quietly.

Until the snort of a deer had your eyes shooting open and your weapon aiming at the creature. Exhaling slowly, you let go, the arrow whipping through the air heading straight for the unknowing animal but ultimately hitting a different target. A huge gasp left you as you watched the arrow go straight into the chest of a man, the deer snorted before running off.

You grunted annoyed and dropped everything to run to the injured man. Your eyes set upon his figure. Large and strong, you recon if you’d hit anywhere else on him that’d he probably wouldn’t have collapsed. Probably would have grabbed the end of the arrow with his big sturdy hands and pulled it straight out like nothing happened. Probably.

The realisation started to set in the more you stared at him, you just shot a man. “Oh my, I’m…I’m so sorry!” You panicked falling to your knees next to him where he was on the ground. His blue eyes meeting yours, looking at you as though you were an alien. His nostrils flared as he quietly grunted, feeling the pain begin to spread throughout his chest and body.

“I was hunting and….and you…y-you stepped in front of the deer. I’m so sorry.” Your hands hovers over his injured while your mind began to become frantic with how to proceed. You eyed the expensive leather that graced his bulky figure. Wrapping around every muscle eagerly. The fur cloak that was spread around him, clearly from a hunt.

It did little to hide the tattoos on his arms. Further up chainmail covered his shoulders proving how sharp you’d made your arrows for it to pierce the chainmail that presumably sat below his tunic and leather. You took note of his face better now, thin lips almost covered by a bushy moustache all connected with thick mutton chops and a full, long beard that caught your attention a little too much.

“Are ya’ done ogling me lass?” He gritted his teeth, wrapping his hand around the arrow and yanking it out. He groaned loudly, deep and rough just like his voice when he spoke. It sent shivers through your body in an unholy way. Nothing like you’d ever felt before.

“Are you a royal from the mainland?” You asked, worry underlining your question.

He bellowed at that, “Ne’er erd’ that one before.” His laugh trailed off as he pressed his fingers into his wound and pulled them away watching the blood drip down his hand.

“My bag.” He was gesturing to the bag that lay a few meters over from where he was. You scrambled to grab it, desperately trying to pull it open. The leather satchel was medium size with about a hundred strings tying it shut.

“W-What do you need?” You were stumbling over your words as you took noticed of the blood that was seeping out of his wound and staining the snow beneath him.

The man grabbed your shaky hands in his and whispered “Breathe.” You listened hesitantly, taking a deep breath.

“Y’know I think I’m supposed to be reassuring you.” A breathless laugh leaving you sounding more like a scoff, he let out a chuckle his face scrunching up in pain.

“In the bag, the bottle with the red liquid.” Nodding quickly, you searched through the bag and pulled out the bottle, pulling the cork out with your teeth and looking at him for instructions. He took the glass container and poured it over his wound and drank the rest of it.

You watched as his heavy panting of pain began to level out. He soon sat up and looked at you curiously, “I’ve ne’er seen ye round these parts before.” He states though you’re pretty sure it was a question, you simply shrug and stand up. He followed suit, a shock jolting through you when he stands only to tower over you greatly.

“I, um really am sorry. It truly was an accident.” You wring your hands together before offering one of them to him. He looks surprised and you don’t blame him, you’re sure a woman has never made this gesture to him before.

“Svo fallegt,” he seemed to look over you for a moment then let his large hand wrap itself around yours with a shake, “S’okay.”You nodded letting go of his grip and making your way to pick up your bow and quiver.

“What’s ya name?” He asked suddenly feeling a wave of panic as he watched you walking away from him. You answered, waiting for his in return. “Price. John Price.”

Now where had you heard that name before?

[n0t-y0ur-piece-0f-cake]

Hiiiiii how are you? I wanted to ask if you could do a super spicey one shot where a male yautja ends up stalking a group of girls and having his way with them in various ways, one by one but then when he finally gets to the reader he ends favoring the reader more than the other girls and ends up breeding reader until the next morning and after that he decided she was gonna be his mate 😏

A night to remember

Summary: girls night out went absolutely wrong.

Fem reader x male yautja

Warnings: NSFW, omfg where do I start, uhhh, rape/noncon, breeding, alien in a rut, drugging, violence, death, implied forced pregnancy,,,

MDNI MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

For everyone else, read at own risk.

Not proof read, English isn't my first language and this was written at 1 am.

Authors note: my first reaction when I read that request was literally 🤨🫢🫣😈 I never thought I could be capable of writing this, but it helped me through my writers block, thx <3

Preparations were always hard. But the worse was long done. Now it was only make up that was left. Tonight's Friday night. The Friday night. Where me, Michelle and Tina finally got ready for our girls night out. We planned that date for so long - Prepared for so long. The parties theme at our local club was "warrior". So the girls and me obviously had to go all overboard. It didn't matter if we went overdressed or too hard. This was and is going to be some quality time. We had so much fun putting together our costumes. Even tho it was still obvious they were part dresses still.

Tina's get up was leaning more for a samurai. Shoulderpats, chest plate - yet still revealing, and a kimono type dress - also still revealing.

Michelle was more inspired by knights. Her dress was complement nicely by a chain top and some more sliver plates on her arms and legs. As well as a cute half helmet with a gracious yellow feather. Overall not too revealing, but the dress was still short enough to almost pop her butt out.

I on the other hand? I went for something more primal. Like a hunter. A hunter you'd see in a deep forest in the stone ages. I knew all the fur would bite me in the ass at the club, but it was worth it, of course it wasnt all fur. Just a big patch of fur over my shoulder. The rest? A sweet brown dress, showing off my thighs and what was still visible of my collarbone. I even went so far and got myself a necklace with sharp teeth and some Ambers. Not sure if either were real. It was second hand. I put on some last details for my make up. Painting some face markings.

We were now ready to go.

"Wait! Hold up", Tina basically shouted out, as Michelle grabbed her heels. We all looked at Tina. She held up her arms and looked at us with a devious smile.

"We have to get a shot in, just to celebrate"

Michelle shook her head. "Come on, Tina. It's not that pricey at the club."

I looked between the two. Sighing with a smile: "But we've got to celebrate. Now that Tina's moving away."

Tina jumped up, like a kid, begging over and over. "Pleaaaaase - for me? This once, Michelle?"

Michelle was never fond of drinking before hand. Drinking in general even, only on special occasions.

Michelle places her heels back down. Giving up, for Tina's sake. Tina giggled and turned back to the kitchen. Smacking three shot glasses on the table like she's a bartender. A samurai bartender. Michelle and I smirked with Tina. When she pulled put her vodka, our eyes widen. This really was a special occasion. It was her 10 Liter vodka bottle, that she never opened. That shit cost her a fortune.

We watched as Tina opened the bottle, it emitted a cracking sound. Yes. Freshly open. It was untouched. Until now. She carefully shifted the bottle, trying to hit the shot glasses. It already made her look like she was drunk, spilling the vodka left and right. We all giggled. Tina let out a more nervous one. I couldn't watch her struggle any longer. So I held the two glasses up to the bottles head. Making it easier to pour. Michelle took the last glass and also then held it under the head. Now all three were full and each placed in a hand. We looked at each other.

"To Tina", Michelle said, holding up the small glass up and to our middle.

"To Tina." We all said out like a record. Drinking it in one go. Nothing at first. But then a weird taste emerged. I wasn't really used to pure vodka. Michelle, not at all. She coughed. But quickly swallowed her cough as quick as it came. We all chuckled together again.

"I could go for another one... now that it's open...", the bottle owner said, swaying her hip from side to side.

"No." It came out like a choir from us.

"We gotta get there before 8, otherwise, who knows how full it'll be tonight", I said, already going for the small hallway to grab my heels. Tina soon following with Michelle.

The streets were quiet. Some passerbys still on their way to wherever. We had to pass through a small patch of forest. It was lit. Michelle would have driven. If she wouldn't have drunk something. Michelle struggled in her highheels. Almost tripping every meter due to the uneven ground. So me and Tina went to each of her side. Supporting her. We finally reached the club. A big snake already formed upfront.

Tina scoffed. "Great. Are we too late already? It's not even 8 yet."

As we approached I looked at the snake of people. They didn't move at all. As we stood there at the end now too, I noticed that they didn't even open up yet. A quick glance at my phone showed me, that it was just 7:55. "We're not late, we're even too early-"

I was cut off by Michelle pointing out the variety of costumes. Tina joining in. I looked up. Yes. We were definitely not overdressed. We fit right in.

"This one's definitely a cosplayer", Michelle said.

"A good one at that", Tina chuckled. I turned my head. Looking at who they were talking about. A woman, must be around our age. She didn't dress revealing at all. It was a full set of armor. Maybe that was foam. Who knows.

I chuckled out: "Are we underdressed?"

We all laughed at that.

Finally it was time. And exactly on the clock, the security guy finally let the people in. Another one arrived, helping out, due to the long snake. He must have been waiting anyways.

After a good 15 minutes, we were up. Showing our ID, the insides of our small bags, pockets. I was good to go. Michelle too. "That's gonna be a great night", said one of the security guards as he checked Tina's matching bag. Giving it her back, she smiled at him. She was also good to go.

We turned to her. Confused. She caught on to our mimics. "Oh. Just a couple of bucks."

Inside the party hasn't fully started. No one was yet on the dance floor. More like trying to get settled and drunk enough to try and dance. We grabbed a table. Looking over the room. After some talk about Tina's plans for her new apartment she got silent. We were silent. We already told her so many times that we'll miss her. She knows that. I hope she knows that.

"I'll be right back"

She said. Turning away.

"Where are you going?", I asked her. Having to talk louder due to the booming music and her now being a bit further away.

She mouthed something that neither me or Michelle heard. Michelle shrugged. I looked around again.

"Well. Guess I should leave this shithole too, like Tina."

Michelle furrowed her eyebrows at my comment. "No you won't. Who am I gonna ball my eyes out with at the McDonalds in the drive in, after I had another shitty relationship?"

I look at Michelle surprised with a smirk. "So you admit your ex was a douche?" She rolls her eyes. Not saying another word about that topic: "just don't leave. It's already enough that Steelheaded-Tina is moving away."

Speaking of her, she finally returns. With three neon green, toxic, probably so unhealthy cocktails in her hands. She places them down in the middle of the table. A smirk so wide it's almost unsettling. It's so obvious that she really wants this night to be great. We start sipping on them. Talking about God knows what. Eventually we decided to make our way to the dance floor. Tina wasn't quite done with her drink yet. Still half way. Michelle and I already ready to go.

"Guys wait-", Michelle said, "I'll make a break for the bathroom, Tina, you better zip that unholy brewery up so we can dance after."

I look at Michelle, worried. "Want me to tag along?" Michelle shook her head. "Nah, I'm good."

With that she left. A man and a woman approached us, not long after. They started talking to me and Tina. The man seemed especially interested in Tina.

The woman turned to me. Leaning in closer to my ear after I couldn't understand her first try to talk to me.

"Do you have a tampon?" "Oh yeah"

I said. I always had one. Especially at a party. You never know. I open my bag, searching for it, in the corner of my eye, I spotted how Tina and the guy faced the dance floor. The guys hand on the table. I looked back at the now found tampon and gave it to her. She thanked me. Turning away to reach the bathroom. I looked back at Tina and the guy. They now faced each other again. He was obviously flirting, judging by his face and Tina's reactions. I couldn't hear them at all. It was too loud.

Michelle came back. Rolling her eyes at Tina and her new found partner for tonight. She was as amused as me. But deep down we were both still worried. The guy invited Tina to dance. She said yes, as they both went to the dance floor, we quickly stepped on it too, keeping a close eye on Tina.

Everything went fine up until a bit later. We noticed Tina being more tipsy. More unfocused. I gave Michelle a frown, she also caught up to my sightings. As we looked back where Tina and the guy just were, we were surprised in to see it now vacated by another person.

Our dance came out a abrupt end. Quickly glancing around the room. We spotted them. He tried to pull Tina out of the club, to the exit. Through the mass we pushed ourself through. I was first who made it out, pulling Tina to me. She almost crashed down, if it weren't for Michelle coming up in the right moment to support her as well.

The guy looked at us. Obviously distraught by us intervening. "I just wanted to get her some air."

Michelle and I looked at him. "Yeah right, fuck off." I scoffed out loud. Security already noticing the situation.

"Everything okay?"

We turned our heads to the security guard. Explaing what happened. The guard pulled the guy aside. Telling us to still get Tina outside and let her sit with us until he investigated the guy.

Indeed we sat. On a bench. Waiting. Another security guard was nice enough to give us a bottle of water. Which we made Tina drink, even tho she said she doesn't need it. After a while the other guard came back out. With a sigh he tried to tell us in a most neutral way, that he found some knock out drops a hidden pouch of the guys costume. I tried to remember. Yes. When the guy was at our table, Tina wasn't don't with her drink yet. Only before she hit the dance floor she drank. Shit.

The guy tells us to get Tina home. Maybe call a cab. If her state worsens then maybe even a ambulance. He also told us he'll make sure the police knows about that guy, and he won't ever get in again. No matter the outcome of what the police says. He asked for our numbers, in case the police has any further questions in the coming days.

With that, we were let go.

We phoned the cabs. All of them said they couldn't make it in less than an hour. So we decided to walk ourselves. We'd be home faster. We were three people. But only one completely out of it. This was a quiet town, we told ourselves. The woods were lit, so it was okay, we told ourselves. We walked.

As we reached the woods, Michelle couldn't really walk and support Tina at the same time. So after a few meters she decided to take her heels off. We were slower. But steady. Tina was being held steady.

Now that we were slower, I took in the sounds of the night. The sounds of the dark forest. The chirping of the crickets. The owl hooing. And the slight fresh breeze pushing against us. At least my fur covered shoulder wasn't getting cold.

I looked at Michelle and Tina. Tina almost asleep, yet still walking. Michelle was exhausted. Her face a bit pained from the heel-less walking. I faced back at the path. I tried to focus on what was ahead of us. Our surroundings. But... was I getting deaf? I can still clearly hear Michelle and Tina walking. But I didn't hear any cricket. No owl. The wind was still there. I felt as if the air got heavier. The owl started hooing again. Maybe I was just tired, too unfocused.

We kept walking. Half way there. The lights in the woods path, were still lit. I glanced at my watch again, as Michelle also stopped walking, taking a break. 11pm. As I waited for Michelle to gather her strength again, Tina woke up slowly from her half asleep state. Being all giggly and seeming like a high person. I took a deep breath in. Focusing on my surroundings. We have to get her to safety. The crickets and owl were still at it. Then, a crack. Silence. I assumed the animals would start again, but, the owl took flight. Flying over and away from us. I felt the aid get heavy again. I felt nervous.

"Can we keep walking?" I said, almost stuttering. Almost begging Michelle. Tina jumped off and away from our arms. "Let's camp!"

Michelle rolled her eyes. "No Tina, we can camp at your place. Where we should be right now."

Tina wanted to say something, but we were cut off by a net being launched at me and Michelle. We were trapped. Tina chuckled as she looked at us. "Spidermaaaaaaan"

Michelle was the first one to try and rip open the net, followed by me. "Looksy! I see you, handsome!", Tina cooed, she was turned away from us, pointing into the tree line, where the net came from. Our eyes already somewhat used to the dark, spotted a shape. A man? Michelle now engaged in trying to rip apart the net even more. I looked at the figure, trying to see them better. But it moved all of the sudden, launching himself with a uncanny jump towards the free standing Tina. Snatching her right up. She was pulled into the bushes. We heard it all rustle. "Oooh- manly man-", Tina cooed again, the silhouette of them indicating, she's tracing his stomach.

I helped Michelle. The net seemed unbreakable. Our initial shock calming down slowly, making us finally able to talk. "Oh my fucking god- TINA RUN!"

Michelle yelled. She was in my vision, I couldn't see what she saw. What happened with Tina or who that was.

"That is not a man!" She kept yelling.

"But he's so-" a loud scream emitted from Tina. I pushed Michelle aside as we both yelled out for her. Who or whatever it was, I pushed Tina against a tree. It's form seeming to ram its hips into her. Her screams were parallel with its thrusts. I panicked. Digging under the net with my bare hands. Michelle joined in, but she mined away the dirt with her heel.

"Wait we have a phone-" I went to grab where my bag was. But the bag was outside the net. I leaned against it, trying to reach it, pulling the hard working Michelle with me. She was caught off guard by my sudden move, making her drop. "Hey!"

No matter how much I tried, I couldn't get to my bag. Even when I pushed so hard against the net, it left markings on me. Michelle caught on to me, reaching for her bag that she wore. Pulling out her phone. "THIS MOTHERFUCKER!" She starred at her screen. Empty. Trying to shut it on again, but it shut right back down before 911 could even be dialed. In a fit or more rage and desperation she smashed her phone on a rock. It shattered on the third try. She used the now smashed phone to cut the net. I took a shard as well and also tried to cut it. The yelling and screaming from Tina has stopped. Whatever it was, it wasn't human and it growled in relief.

I made it, I cut through. I quickly squeezed myself through the still somewhat smal gap I made. I ran, a trident was launched at me. Thankfully not piercing me as a tree was there, making me pinned up by the neck against it. My head was too big to try and squeeze my way out, and the trident was launched to deeply into the tree. Michelle had squeezed out too, running for me, trying to undo the trident holding me hostage. My eyes widen, the creature walked up to us. In the dim light, I myself saw, that that was no human. No animal. But a creature. Otherworldly. It wore what seemed to helmet and armor. I screamed out. Altering Michelle.

She tuned her head. I pushed her. "MICHELLE RUN-"

Michelle looked back at me, unsure. But I pushed her again. So she ran. The creature running after her now. Knowing I was pinned. I pushed against the trident again, my sweaty palms making it difficult to hold on. Or it was just launched to deep. Or both. I looked back at where Michelle had ran to. Only to see that the creature had caught up to her. Having her pinned down. She was gasping, crying. It had her pinned by the hip. I panicked again, as it kept smashing against her hips in a unholy force, making her cry and beg, I turned around, facing the tree and pushing my neck against the trident. Thank god it wasn't sharp. I pushed and pushed. It hurt so much, but I did it, I fell back, the top of the trident scraping against my exposed shoulder and arm. The furred shoulder was fine. I didn't mind the blood. I picked up the trident, looked into the direction Tina was, I couldn't belive my eyes.

She was dead. Her thigh, and neck bruised and bloodied. Only then realising, that her body and head didn't add up. It twisted her head and broke her neck.

I took my eyes off her, facing to Michelle and that... creature. I quickly ran towards them, at first it didn't seem to notice me. But as he did, shortly before I could react in time, he got up, I quickly jolted the trident to the side, falling a bit on Michelle. In the short second I laid on her, my head next to hers, it seemed she was still breathing, but barely.

The creature tried to get ahold of the trident. Grabbing it, and pulling it away from me. But I held it firmly. It started to slip from my hands as it used more force. So I quickly pulled my legs up and kicked against the tridents pole, stabbing it at it with my full force. It didn't hit him directly, but a spot that wasn't covered by its armor. It bled. Green. Neon green. As it tried to recover from its injury, I ran. Following the lights, I noticed heavy stomps behind me. They were quick. Close. I didn't dare look behind me. I knew it was... that.

I decided in a frenzy, that maybe jumping between trees might slow it down. So I went off rail, going zick zack between the trees. It seemed to help. For a while. I was still close to the paths lights, just enough so I could see. Just my luck that I spotted a axe in front of me. I abruptly stopped, grabbed it, and swung out. It jolted back, I almost hit it. Almost.

It roared out, angry, I flinched, but still held the axe steady. I once again tried to launch it at him, several times in a span of seconds. It nicked him twice. It growled and roared again, getting more and more agitated, out of no where it kicked me off my legs, making me fall down, before I could react, it grabbed my axe, as well as me, I hit a tree while I stood, a loud thuck boomed next to my ear. The axe was at my neck. I felt out a shaky gasp. I tried to look behind me, but my head was quickly pushed into the tree by its hand. The other toying with my underwear before ripping it off fully, with a single yank.

It got all close. Shoving my hips upwards and off the ground. It didn't matter to it, that it hurt me in that position. My spine felt over stretched. As well did my stomach and soon something else.

I felt its hips shuffle around, the armor plate in front of its crotch scooting over to so he could insert its otherworldly cock. No warning, no lube, no spit. That thing tore me apart with one shove. I screamed out, so high pitched you'd think I was in a Opera trying to destroy a glass. But my high pitch was soon replaced by deep screams, gasped screams. I was trying to get air. My one arm, I pressed against the tree, trying to not get myself killed whenever he pushed back in and could break my neck by this position he had me. The other was at his thigh, rather my fingertips, trying to prevent him from going to rough or too deep. Which was a lost cause. He, whatever he was, was too strong.

He kept pushing and pushing, his speed and force altered from time to time. Already making me see starts. I was already exhausted. Its grip on my head was now a tiny bit more gentle. Letting me look down. There I saw a green-white hued liquid. Which must be what I was thinking. It slowed. As it did so, my hip jolted from all that he's put me through. But to him, it must have been like invitation to keep going. He yanked me around. Facing him, still off the ground. He disposed of the axe by throwing it on the ground.

Before I could try to kick him, punch him, or anything, he held me up, in the air. No tree I could support myself on now. My hips hovered over his. And he let them crash down on his. I whimpered out again, it didn't hurt as much anymore. My fists were on his chest, I was still trying to push him away. As his hips kept rolling against mine, his clawed hand reached up to the brim of my dress, ripping it off. My boobs jiggling intensly with every deeper and faster thrust. I still pushed against him, he grabbed me by the waist and hip, his large hand being able to hold a, to him smaller creature, up like that. I saw the lit path upside down. He kept up his pace, even going rougher. Weirdly enough it felt so good, so good I let out a long restrained moan. No. I can't enjoy this.

But this feeling. Being stretched, filled out fully... the way he hits every spot. Another moan escaped my lips. My fists, now unclenched, grabbing at his stomach armor. His pace picked up. Thinking I'm trying to tell him to speed up. With that my body shivered throughout, I quickly sat myself up again on his hip, one of my hands grabbing at his shoulder. His monstrous pace not decreasing.

I leaned my head against the crook of his neck. The corners of my eyes turned black. And I screamed as I came undone on him. As I painted the green-white hued liquid on the ground with my own as well.

He still kept up the pace, not letting me recover. I insides clenched around his cock, I needed to recover but I couldn't. He wouldn't let me. He now placed his arms on my shoulder. Pinning me to him as he needed to get his rut out. I moaned and whimpered against his neck, everything went more dark by each push. I didn't recognise anything anymore. Just how he felt in me. How he pushed his seed deeper and further up. I didn't know how many times he came. How long he's been going at it.

I woke up again. I was dropped down somewhat gently on the ground. Sat up on the damn tree. I looked down at myself. As he stood before me. Whenever I moved a muscle, as I tried to get up, a big drop of his green-white cum emitted from my pussy. It even appeared that my stomach was more bloated. My thighs being covered in all that liquid. I looked up at him, behind his head, were the trees heads, exposing the now dawning morning sun. Its been that long!?

I watched as he picked up the axe, then me. Me? I was swung over his shoulder. My stomach pressed against it, making more cum blurt out. He walked deeper into the woods. I was too weak to do anything. Too exhausted. He stopped, I looked over his shoulders. My eyes widen at the sight. A otherworldly craft. A vehicle. A ufo? A ufo. And he carried me inside. Setting me down on a chair in the cockpit, putting on what seemed to be seat belts. "Mate", it said in a scratchy growling voice. He turned away from me and started his ship.

My heart stopped. That sure was a night I won't ever forget.

[marlynnofmany]

Aiming the Machismo

I’m on the tall end of our ship’s lineup. Not the biggest by any means, but with half the crew short enough to elbow in the head accidentally, and the others only that tall when they stand on tentacle-tip, it’s easy to think of myself as one of the big ones.

Sometimes we make deliveries to people who enforce that impression. Today was not one of those times.

“Move aside,” said the deepest voice, echoing from the opaque helmet of a Smasher in an armored suit. “Official business goes first.” His companion was just as hulking, with shoulders that looked like they wrestled buffalo for fun and hands that could crush a coconut.

I was glad he wasn’t talking to me.

“Official, huh?” demanded an Armorlite, sticking his dinosaurian face in close to bare teeth at the helmet. His voice sounded normal by comparison. “We’re official too, and we were here first. Get in line.” He was backed up by a half dozen similarly beefy individuals — a surprising collection, really: big Frillians and a couple extremely jacked humans. They made a wall of sneers worthy of any gym bro turf war.

The Smashers weren’t impressed. But at least they weren’t taking out any weapons. “Rule violators who are wanted in several systems have been spotted nearby. We’re here to capture them for the greater good. Move aside.”

The Armorlite laughed in his face, saying that they were bounty hunters too, and they weren’t about to let anyone get ship fuel before they did. The air was full of jeers and testosterone, or the alien equivalent. Some of the macho individuals were female. It made no difference.

It was unfortunate, though, since this mess was between us and the front counter, where a single put-upon Heatseeker stood behind a sign about repairs. I saw why none of the bounty hunters had gotten their fuel yet; apparently the dispensing nozzle for midsize ships was broken.

Good news. That’s what we were here to deliver, among other things.

I looked past the hoversled full of heavy machinery at the two most muscle-bound members of our crew, whose body language was currently more timid than usual. I guess they knew their place in the macho pecking order. Blip was glancing from one face to another as if trying to predict a winner, while Blop stood at attention and stared into the middle distance. All of their many frills were slicked back as if trying not to draw attention.

Well, I was a slender breakable twig compared to everybody except the little Heatseeker, and none of that was my problem. “Guys,” I said. “Let’s yell ‘delivery’ on three.”

They both looked at me instead of the nonsense. Blip nodded, standing taller and relaxing her frills into a more normal position. Blop took a deep breath that it sounded like he needed.

“One, two, three. DELIVERY!”

The argument stopped, and multiple dangerous faces turned in our direction.

I tugged the hoversled forward and spoke into the brief silence. “Repairs, so everybody can get their fuel faster!”

What do you know, the sea of biceps and teeth parted to let us through. With Blip and Blop pushing from behind even though the sled didn’t need it, I led the way past everybody taller than me to where the green-scaled Heatseeker waited.

“Thank you,” he said in relief. “That nozzle broke right after our regular supply ship left. Do you have time to stop by our sister colony on the fourth planet? We ordered extra of one of those other parts, and it sounds like they need it.”

“I think we can manage that,” I said with a glance at Blip and Blop. “Let me just check with the captain. Are the same rates okay?” Behind me, the arguing was getting loud again.

The Heatseeker agreed readily over the noise, and called somebody else up to the front to confirm everything. Instead of shouting into my phone or trying to get past all the competing pectorals twice more, I sent texts and invoices to whoever was in the cockpit.

Surprisingly enough, the boisterous voices moved their debate outside while we worked. By the time we got the delivery unloaded except for the part going to the sister colony, the room was quiet. I was glad for that, though worried about what we’d find when we left.

I asked the Heatseeker at the counter, “Have those bounty hunters been here before?”

He shook his scaly head. “No. I hope they finish their business soon and move on.”

I agreed. We said our goodbyes, then the twins and I maneuvered the nearly-empty hoversled back to the door. The only thing left on it was a bundle of cables for some sort of electronics. Thoroughly packaged to keep out dust, and tied down in case of unexpected jostles to the sled. I hoped there wouldn’t be any of those on the way to the ship. With a glance at Blip and Blop, I moved forward to open the door.

Cheers, grunts, and thuds greeted me. After one cautious step out onto the rural spaceport, I saw how the meatheads had decided to resolve their differences. It wasn’t by fighting. It also wasn’t a dance-off, which I’d seen once before. No, they were taking turns picking up empty fuel tanks and seeing how far they could throw them. It was very far.

“Let’s take the long way around,” I suggested.

“No kidding,” Blip agreed, pushing the sled faster. “Before they decide to throw us.”

I stepped quickly. “That’s an option to them?”

“Probably.”

Blop said, “I hope the sister colony is quieter.”

“Me too,” I agreed as we hurried to our ship with roars of triumph filling the air.

Surprisingly enough, the three of us got to see that sister colony ourselves shortly after. Usually our crew trades off in who hands over the deliveries, so it should have been Paint and Mur doing this second dropoff, but this was an unplanned one and they were busy helping deep clean the medical bay. So I went again with the Blip and Blop, and we got to appreciate a similar reception area with no slabs of beef causing trouble.

“This is a lovely place,” I told the Heatseeker with deep blue scales at the desk. Windows lined every wall here, giving us a view of rolling hills where cloud shadows drifted over bushy trees and equally bushy sheeplike things. The scent of spicy flowers wafted through.

“It is,” she replied, looking tired. “The aromatic moss on the trees is particularly beautiful.”

The other Heatseeker checking over the cables said, “Too bad the locals weren't making up their monster stories. If those were actually fake, I’d be a lot happier.”

“What monster stories?” I asked. Blip and Blop got more alert behind me.

At the same time, the first Heatseeker asked, “They’re not? Are we sure?”

The guy with lighter blue scales straightened up. “We’re sure. Another set of their livestock got killed last night, and more personal accounts of missing people have turned up now that we’re actually looking into it.” He gave me a glance. “We don’t know what kind of monster we’re talking about, but I have theories.”

I looked out the windows again. The scenery didn’t seem quite as welcoming now. “Is there a local predator eating people?”

The receptionist hurried to clarify, “Nothing gets eaten. The people always turn up again, and the animals are damaged but not taken away.”

Blip asked, “Have you put up security cameras?”

“Yes, that’s what this cable is for. We’re putting up more, and making sure they’re connected to a proper power supply.”

“But did the first ones see anything?” Blip insisted.

“Not the culprits,” said the darker Heatseeker. “We need to aim higher, I think. And adjust for light fluctuations. Whoever is doing this brings spotlights to upset the cameras. Or else it’s some sort of natural bioluminescence on a grand scale.”

The pale guy shook his head. “It’s definitely somebody in a ship. Creatures on foot wouldn’t be able to make those patterns in the plants, at least not that quickly.”

I whipped my head around. “Crop circles?”

“They are circular, yes.”

“So people are being taken,” I repeated. “Abducted, then returned, while livestock is getting mutilated and there are circles in their crops?”

“That’s about the size of it.” The guy gave me a sharp look. “You’ve seen this before?”

“Not personally,” I said with a frown. “But my planet sure has.”

“Oh!” said Blop. “It’s those little gray guys, right? I’ve heard about them. No morals at all.”

“Yes, them.” I felt my frown turning into a proper scowl. “They harassed my planet for generations, and never answered for it. They only left when we made contact with the broader galaxy. The frill-tearing mud eggs.” I made sure to insult them in both Frillian and Heatseeker terminology, to make sure we were all on the same page.

The darker Heatseeker looked appropriately scandalized. “That would fit with the way only the locals have seen them here. They must be avoiding us.”

“But maybe they’re about to leave soon, right?” asked the paler one. “Since they only like uncontacted prey who can’t report them?”

“Probably,” I said. I turned back to tap a finger on the payment tablet. “Let’s finish up quickly. I know just who to tell about this, and these little gray bastards are exactly the kind of rule-breaker they’ll outdo each other trying to catch.”

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[rebelliousstories]

New Year’s Day

New Year/ New Fic

Relationship: Eddie Brock/ Venom x Reader

Fandom: Marvel

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Killing

Word Count: 738

Main Masterlist: Here

Marvel Masterlist: Here

Summary: A new year has come, shedding the old. But some things remain the same.

Consider Donating: Here

For the first time in what felt like forever, Eddie was going to stay in for a New Year’s Eve party. Partially because he knew that the big guy did not like loud noises, but also because he already planned on staying in with his girlfriend tonight. He had the NYC ball drop on the tv, champagne ready to go, and plenty of chocolate for his little friend.

They were currently snuggled up on the couch, with Venom’s head poking out from Eddie’s shoulder. The head rested on the shoulder that was not pressed not Eddie’s body, eating the chocolates that were being passed to it by the woman.

“So I know that bells and high pitched noises separate you two, but fireworks? I wouldn’t think those would.” She pondered, taking a sip of the wine that was holding her over until midnight.

“Yeah, I think it’s the decibels. Too loud a noise and V don’t like it.” Eddie stated.

“I do not like loud noises. Or high pitches. But I would love another chocolate.” The alien voice growled in her ear. With a chuckle, she passed hm another unwrapped bite of the sweet stuff.

“You are so spoiled, ya know.” Teasing, all she got in return after popping it into the teeth lined mouth, was a nuzzle from the symbiote.

“Oh,” their attention was suddenly pulled to Eddie, who was pointing at the screen. “The ball is about to drop.”

An excited squeak left her lips as she was pulled up to stand by both men. Tendrils wrapped around her body, as a hand took place at her waist. Venom shot out two more tendrils, and miraculously, popped open the champagne without a lot of mess. The alien poured two flutes for them and passed them to the humans with only minor spilling.

As the clock neared midnight, the woman turned to her lover. “Did you have a good year, Eds?”

“Of course I did. Did you?” He asked, holding her close.

“Yeah. It was a pretty good year. Especially now that I’ve got this pretty rock on my hand, and I can spend the rest of my life with the both of you.” She replied, before turning to look at the head that was resting on her other shoulder. “What about you, V? Had a good year?”

“The year was good. Having you around makes Eddie much more receptive. You make him happy. Which in turn, makes me happy.” It was surprisingly sweet coming from the symbiote.

“I love you too, Venom.” Pressing a small kiss to the head, she barely dodged the lick she was being given by a mile long tongue.

“Alright, alright,” Eddie pulled their attention once more. “Ten seconds till midnight.”

“Seven… six… five… four… three… two… one… Happy New Year!” They cheered. Eddie yanked her close to get her into a deep lip lock. A kiss to start the new year off right. Pulling away for air, the couple clinked their glasses together before taking a sip from them. Sirens right underneath their window called their attention however. Leave it to New Yorkers to get into trouble tonight.

“Eddie… please?” Venom grumbled.

The man groaned, just wanting to spend one day in peace. However, his girlfriend giggled as he dropped his head down.

“He’s been very good these last few weeks in not asking. Not even on Christmas.” She stated, already taking his flute. However, Brock took it back, downed it in one swig, before handing it back as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Fine, V. One bad guy.” He resigned.

“Yes!” The alien cheered as he already began to fully take over his host’s body.

Before he could completely disappear, Eddie spoke up. “We’ll be back shortly, babe. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” her hand waved dismissively, “I’ll be here for you both. Enjoy your night.”

No sooner had she said that, that Venom fully overtook the body and jumped out of the window. She made herself comfortable on the couch as she threw on a movie. More than likely, Venom would manage to convince Eddie to let him eat multiple bad guys heads which meant that they would not be back until at least four in the morning. So, on that couch, she chose to wait for as long as she could to celebrate the new year with her love and his weird, alien compatriot.

[the-kr8tor]

Hello, I've been trying to reach you about your cars extended warranty:)

(Requesting Reverse Isekai AU thingy please^^)

I don't even have a car 😭 (thank you for requesting muah 😘)

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.1k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, lovestruck reader, reverse isekai AU, fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

One minute you're mindlessly scrolling through your phone with your headphones blaring loud music, a minute later you're screaming bloody murder when a geometric glowing portal pops up in your room. It made everything in the room glow orange and yellow as confusion and surprise took over your form.

Are you getting abducted by aliens? Are you in an episode of Rick and Morty? If so, then multiverses are real, it's either that or the mold from your numerous stock water bottles has finally gotten to your brain.

A half second into your contemplation, out comes a man that you're oh so familiar with and oh so smitten with. His boots thump loudly on your floors, spikes glimmering under the red LED lights. The whites of his mask widen when he spots you cowering in the corner, darkness overtakes you when his oh so familiar voice echoes above the whir of the portal.

“This ain't 1346.” You fall off the bed like a damsel in distress.

—

You wake up to water gently splashing your face, flicking more like. And your head aching, eyes adjusting to the sudden light.

“Fuckin' finally, I thought you were dead.” A garbled voice utters as your ears try to waken up from your deep nap. “You alright there?” His voice clears and you still think you're dreaming when Hobie Brown's mask pops up in your vision, droopy eyeliner, spikes and all that jazz that you've practically memorized in your mind.

You thought your poster has once again fallen off the walls and onto your bed. But no, when you touched his bicep abruptly, eyes as wide as saucers, lips stuttering out his name. Your favourite character is real and right in your bedroom, flicking water from one of your numerous discarded water bottles on your bedside.

Even your wildest imagination couldn't make this up.

“You're Hobie Brown.” You say in disbelief, voice just above a whisper.

“Yeah, I figured you know me based on all of these…” he roams his eyes on your walls and table. “...posters and stickers. What am I over here? A rockstar or somethin’? Since you know my name.”

“You're Hobie motherfucking Brown!” You screech, suddenly jumping off the bed, looking like someone just told you Santa isn't real.

“That I am.” Said man has the audacity to smirk at you. And you swear you would have fainted again. “You a big fan?”

“I love you.” Your voice merely a murmur but he for sure heard it as the eyes of his mask widened for a brief second.

“I think it's time for us to chat, yeah, love?”

“L-love? Fucking…” voice wavering, you drop once again, but this time he catches you perfectly without the motion sickness from traveling to one dimension after another.

Hobie chuckles, eyes staring at your sleeping face, mouth still agape from the surprise and skin hot under his gloves. “Never thought someone could faint twice in one day.”

—

There's a glass of cold water in your hands, legs nervously bouncing under the blanket. He sits at the foot of your bed, giving you enough space so as to not make you uncomfortable in your own home, and to also not make you pass out (again) from the close proximity. His iconic boots are discarded, vest folded next to him, and mask in his pocket. You almost fainted again when he took it off.

“So, this Miles from earth–1610 is gonna get chased by Miguel and the entire society because he doesn't want his canon event to happen?” You nod as he recalls your story. Not a story anymore as this Hobie hasn't experienced it yet. Of course you didn't tell him the entire plot, just in case it rips a hole in the space time continuum. “And a few people are gonna need a watch?”

You sniffle, skin so warm that you think you're boiling the water in your hands.

“Hmm, that checks out. Good thing I started making these watches then eh, love?” His mischievous smile makes your stomach do flips, you're sure he's doing it intentionally.

Pinching yourself under the covers, chugging down the cool water, you muster up enough courage to actually speak coherent words.

“H-how’d you get here?”

“Fucked up my coordinates, I think. I'm pretty sure I'm not in Kansas anymore.” Hobie chuckles at his own joke before switching his attention to your wide eyed self. “Wizard of oz, you do have that here, right?”

“Y-yes,” you say meekly, drowning in his blue? Grey? Or brown eyes? You have no idea as his borders and colors change every minute or so. Nevertheless, you're absolutely done for. You guess this is what it feels like to meet your favourite celebrity, or in this case, favourite character. “Reverse isekai.” You whisper, nerding out at the possibilities.

“A what?” He says in his accent and you tamp down the feeling of wanting to say it back jokingly.

You clear your throat, “nothing.”

Nodding, he inhales, eyes darting around your fangirl room full of fandom merch and of course spiderverse merch. He zeroes in on the body pillow peeking under the blanket. You immediately lift the covers up to hide it, accidentally spilling water all over yourself and the bed. *Great, very smooth, you thought.

His eyes are soft and full of endearment whilst he watches you frantically and desperately dry yourself off.

You hope that he doesn't tease, but you know him, know his character, so you anticipate what happens next.

“What was that then?” He pats your foot, head tilting to look at you. You feel your head swirl again, and you swear the water spilled all over you evaporates from the sheer heat from your skin.

“N-nothing, Hobie.” You sink into the mattress.

“Right,” He unfolds his vest, putting it back on. “It's been great, but I gotta go.”

“Oh,” you blink, “do you want me to take out the posters? I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

He shakes his head with a smile. “Nah, not uncomfortable, I've been in worse dimensions. This ain't that bad really.”

“They're bootlegs if that makes it more okay.”

Hobie laughs and you practically melt from the sound.

“Bootleg, huh? That's a great name, project bootleg it is.” His smile blinds you for a second. You feel like you've ascended to heaven. “I have a tight schedule, being Spider-Man and all, but maybe I can visit again to get some insider knowledge of the future. Eh, Oracle?”

“S-sure,” you choke on the singular word. “It's a date— wait– no, I meant—”

Hobie chuckles, hands on his hips, bouncing on the balls of his boot clad feet, and border turning bright pink. For some reason, in all your clumsy and goofy self, you just made *the Spider-Man sheepish. Not just any Spider-Man, Hobie Brown, your absolute favourite out of all the thousands of Spider-people in the entire multiverse.

“It's a date then, no fainting next time yeah? I'll still catch you anyway, but it wouldn't be that fun if you're sleeping through it.”

“Okay.” You manage to say, heart loudly beating in your chest when his art style changes into love poems etched into his design.

He jumps inside the portal to hide the poems, winking at you before his body disappears into the void.

As the portal closes, you pass out once again, with a lopsided smile this time.

[leo-muscle]

I’ve heard a little bit about this King Leon guy. Who does he think he is to call himself a king? Seems far to pretentious if you ask me. I wouldn’t be caught dead bowing to someone like that. Not in a million years.

Sure I’m the most basic looking white dude on the planet. My face gets lost in the crowd and my body is light enough to be blown by a breeze. But a king can’t change that, and I would like to see him or any of his subjects try to.

"Are you sure about that?" The bartender told you. You had just arrived on your vacation in Haiti, and the resort's bartender had decided to strike up a conversation with you over drinks. He was enormous, seven feet of pure surfer boy muscle, with a thick gut that was the very picture of strength. He would have been the most beautiful man you had ever seen, if you weren't in the middle of a massive rant.

"Oh, absolutely." You continued. "Whoever these 'kings' are, I don't want anything to do with 'em. Who are they to declare rule over the entire world, and who are we to listen to them?"

It was true, of course. Much of Africa, the British Isles, Central America, and even the islands you were now in had been united under the rule of these Kings. While many praised them for their novel social reforms and exponential increase to quality of life in their domains, many others, yourself included, remained attached to the old ways. Even this vacation was a scouting trip, to see if whatever propaganda these Kings were putting out was true.

"On the contrary, my friend, I am perfectly happy to listen to the rule of my King. You should have seen this island before King Kai came here. Homelessness, poverty... it's all been amended since he arrived."

"Really?" You asked, taking a big swig of your drink, savoring its tingle on your lips. "And NO one's uncomfortable being ruled by just one person?"

"People love King Kai. He is kind and just, like any good king should be. You'll see that soon enough." The bartender said.

"What do you mean by that?" You asked, your heart racing.

"Oh, nothing much. Just give it a few seconds."

"What are you-- UGH!" You doubled over, your skin on fire with a sensation entirely alien to you.

The bartender walked out from behind the bar, and soon, his magical hands went to work. With his kingly essence in your system, you could be molded into a respectable citizen of the world.

He started with your pecs, cupping them from behind as they burst through your tropical shirt with new strength. They were enormous, voluptuous pillows, jiggling with muscle and a thin layer of fat.

He then moved his hands along your shoulders, pumping them into cannonballs of strength. The moment his hands reached your arms, they pulled and pushed, leaving your twiggy biceps and forearms as but a fleeting memory, replacing them with pulsing, powerful cannons of strength. In awe, you flexed your right arm, forming a mound easily as big as a baseball if not more.

You moaned softly as King Kai's beautiful hands lightly traced a six-pack onto your stomach, each ab popping into existence, forming an impenetrable wall of strength.

Soon, his hands navigated south, one massive hand palming your flat ass, while the other grabbed your tiny three-inch cock. You moaned, long, low, and hard as both of his hands began to move out from your body, pulling your cock and ass with them. Your cheeks rounded out into a big, bouncy bubble butt, bigger than most women's. It shook with strength and sexuality with every slight movement you made, much like your cock, which had grown so big with the King's touch that no pair of pants could conceal your enormous bulge. His touch was electric on your shaft, causing you to pre almost endlessly.

Your mind was in heaven as he continued to your legs. Your cock was at full mast at its enormous eleven inches as he took his hands to your legs, and blew them up into corded steel pillars as big as any christmas ham. You moaned, your cock firing blanks as he looked you deep into your eyes, placing one hand to completely cover your currently-unchanged face.

"As much as I love my people, we cannot be a global community if all my citizens are homogenous." King Kai said. "Hmm, where should I send you..."

Your skin flickered through thousands of shades in a single moment, before settling on a tone a few shades darker than your original. Your hair darkened to black, and you instantly sprouted a thick dark mustache, and a chinstrap beard to match. Your eyes became narrower and monolid, your stare intensifying into a sexy smolder. As King Kai leaned in and kissed you, your bulk increased, and your muscle became padded with a thin sexy layer of fat.

"Cum." King Kai commanded you, his voice sexy enough to send you over the edge.

You had been reborn, a Vietnamese stud in the Carribean. Your brain was aflame with new neurons, making connections faster and better than ever before. You knew you had been improved, in every conceivable way. You were stronger, smarter, wiser, and you had no one but your new king to thank.

[brighttears]

Stranger Chapter 2

Joel Miller x f!reader

No physical description

Summary: After your argument, Tommy finds Joel, and they talk at the bar. Joel learns more about what has happened to you since he left, and is once again left reeling, and has to reconsider his attitude. As it turns out, you’re neighbors, and he catches sight of you that night.

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: Talk of violence, reader is traumatized, Joel hates himself.

A/n: May have pushed it a little far with character building here but stay with me. Also a brief moment of lightheartedness between the boys

series masterlist

—

A cold and desolate breeze and Joel’s huffed breaths are the only sound as he stands there on your porch, staring at the door. His legs feel numb, preventing him from retreating as he's struck with an overwhelming feeling of helplessness and loss. 

Eventually, he takes a deep breath, letting it out in a heavy, shaky sigh, as if he’s gotten the breath knocked out of him and is just now getting it back. He’s still tense, body like a coiled spring. 

Finally, he turns and steps off of your porch, shoes crunching in the thin blanket of snow covering the dirt road, and is utterly lost. 

Hands shoved in his pockets and shoulders hunched against the winter wind, he walks, trying to process what just went down, as well as the unfamiliar world around him. Despite the general friendly air of Jackson, he feels just as alone as he has for the last few months. Out of place, alien, dazed, the memory of your snarl, the raging fire in your eyes, etched into the forefront of his brain. 

You’ve changed into someone almost unrecognizable, and it’s just as disconcerting as it is depressing.  What happened to that kind girl he used to know? The one that took the time to sit with a deer after she’d killed it, that never gave up her soft spot for children, who would sing softly in the night when she knew he wasn’t really sleeping? 

He doesn’t know where you’ve gone, or if he’ll ever get you back, and the realization gives him a horrified kind of goosebumps, sucking a sharp breath out of him. 

Lost in thought, he doesn’t register the footsteps behind him, not realizing Tommy’s there until he speaks, “So, how’d it go?” There’s a hopeful grimace on his face when Joel turns to him, but it only gives him a surge of frustration, suddenly feeling like Tommy knowingly set him up for failure. 

“Poorly.” Joel states flatly, shooting him a look before turning back to walk aimlessly down the road. Tommy jogs to fall in step beside him, eyes flicking over the near scowl on his brother's face. 

“I was hoping you wouldn’t say that.” He says, but Joel doesn’t reply. “Wanna get a drink?” Tommy tries, and after only a short pause, Joel nods curtly. “Yeah. A drink sounds great right now.”

It’s a silent walk to the Tipsy Bison, Joel’s thoughts still churning, his brother glancing at him from time to time, a concerned pinch between his brows, all the way until they’re sat down at the empty bar, a couple shots of whiskey in each of their glasses. 

“So,” Tommy starts, still watching him as he traces the thick ribbing on the side of his glass, eyes locked on the golden liquid. “…How bad was it?”

“Pretty fuckin’ bad.” Joel grumbles. “I think she would’ve ripped my god damn throat out if I’d said one more word.”

Tommy pauses, holding his breath for a moment. Joel flicks his eyes up, seeing that look, and he suddenly feels his stomach drop. “What?” 

“She uh…” Tommy looks down at the table, holding his breath for another short moment before he bluntly answers, “she did that once, ripped someone’s throat out.”

Chills run through Joel’s entire body at that, shocked into silence for a moment, staring at the grave look on his brother's face. 

“She what?” He finally manages to speak, voice tight. 

Slowly, Tommy nods, looking down at his glass as he fiddles with it. “She told me the story about a month after she got here. Just last year, some big guy… you know, tried to do what guys sometimes try to do to a woman they find alone. Came pretty damn close, apparently, too. Had her all, uh, tied up, but… she still had her teeth. So, she bit. And pulled. Ripped his jugular open, I guess—not his throat, exactly, but…” Tommy trails off, swallowing, brow knit as he stares down at the bar. 

Joel gawks at him, unable to find a way to respond.

He can’t imagine you doing that. At least, not the you that he knows. But then Tommy responds to that thought itself, voice almost hoarse as he looks back at him, grief in his eyes, “She’s not the girl we used to know.”

After a moment, Joel nods. He knew that. He understood it the second your eyes changed, by the way you had bared your teeth—and when he thinks of that, he can imagine you sinking them into a human being. One that deserved it, but a human being all the same. 

The days of mild annoyance over your inclination for mercy are over, but it only makes him feel sick to his stomach. 

With a deep sigh, Joel rubs his hand over his face, trying to collect himself, not show just how disturbed he is by the image of you being that violent, by the confirmation of that thought, that you’re gone— “I don’t know what I was thinking.” He grumbles. “I knew she’d be mad, but, fuck. I thought she might be a little happy to see me.” He sighs through his hands before dropping them to the bar, shaking his bowed head. “It was stupid.” He mumbles.

“You had no way of knowing what she’d been through.” Tommy says, the dripping sympathy only irking an already sensitive Joel. “I didn’t either.” He continues, “And, I thought that… the way she was when she got here would go away, but… well it did a little bit, but…” he shakes his head slowly, “Not much.” 

Joel nods back, a sense of resignation in the gesture. He takes a sip of whiskey, wanting the burn down his throat to drown out that wave of nausea in his stomach. Memories of the way you used to be play in his mind, mixed with the image of that feral gleam in your eye, right before the door slammed shut in his face. 

After a moment, he speaks quietly, “She was so angry. …I’ve never seen her like that.” 

In vain hopes of somehow scrubbing the images off of the backs of his eyelids, Joel rubs his hands over his face with another deep sigh.

“I know.” Tommy replies, pausing, his eyes flicking over the bar. “I get glimpses of her.” He nods softly, “here and there. She’s… she’s not gone, just… different.”

Despite his words, Joel is suddenly hit with a screaming sense of grief, as if it only just sunk in now that he has to mourn you. The one that he knows. Someone that he may never, ever see again. 

He swings his glass back against his lips, taking a gulp of liquor, welcoming the burn. He wants to drown it out. Memories. Reality. 

He just got here, finally, the place he’d been aiming for for months—harsh, bleak, soul sucking months, the place he shed buckets of blood, sweat, and tears for, finally, sitting here having a whiskey with his brother, and he wants to drown. 

Because it’s his fault. 

He’s silent for a while as he ruminates, a heavy, grim air between the two. There’s an empty sort of feeling in Joel’s gut, and it suddenly makes him chuckle—a bitter, sour huff of a laugh. “Feels wrong.” He says, cutting the silence. 

“What does?” Tommy asks, giving him a puzzled look, clearly caught off guard by the laugh. 

“It feels wrong, knowing she’s… she’s right there, but… she’s not.” He explains, tone grim. He sighs, thoughts still swirling, but there's one thing that he knows for certain. “I shouldn’t’ve left her.”

Tommy shakes his head softly, unable to help but offer, “You just did what you thought was right.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that it was wrong.” Joel retorts, looking at him. Anger again starts to bubble up, a familiar one towards himself, an intense irritation at his own stupidity, his own short-sightedness, and, he realizes, his own selfishness. 

After a beat, Tommy sighs, sounding defeated as he replies, “No, it doesn’t.” He takes a sip of his drink, letting a silent moment go by before he speaks again, “Just don’t give up on her, Joel.”

The gentleness of his tone is sudden and unexpected, and Joel pauses, staring at him. But then he just shakes his head. “What am I supposed to do, Tommy? She wants nothing to do with me. I try anything and she’s gonna bite my fuckin’ head off. Maybe literally.” 

Pursing his lips, Tommy shakes his head, tone soft and earnest, “She ain’t got no one else, Joel. We’re it. She needs us, even if she says she doesn’t, even if she doesn't believe it herself.” Joel lets out a weary sigh at that, suddenly feeling a familiar and unwelcomed weight. 

He never wanted to feel responsible for you, because it comes paired with a foreboding dread, because he’s going to fail. And he did. 

But regardless, he didn’t have a choice then, the need he felt to do anything he could to protect you. And now, with things so dire, of course, he still can’t help it. 

“I don’t even know where to start.” He replies dimly. “She’s like a wild animal.”

“Yeah.” Tommy nods. “You kinda gotta…” he shrugs, words almost measured, “treat her like one. Like she’s… some, feral stray, around people for the first time.” 

At the notion of you actually being comparable to some wild animal, Joel’s heart drops. But then he gets another flash of that look in your eye, and, regretfully, he accepts the sentiment. Gruffly, he then asks, “How the hell do I do that?” 

“Let her come to you.” Tommy tells him, leaning his arms over the bar. “Let her… sniff your hand, y’know? Expect pushback. But don’t give up.” He pauses. “She ain’t that vicious all the time. I’ve had some good times with her since she got here. She likes to help out at the stables, and, garden, you know, help grow vegetables and fruit and all that. She’s calm then.”

It's relieving to know that you do have your moments of peace, both for your own sake and for his own faint yet pressing sense of hope; that maybe he’ll see you again. With another gulp of whiskey, he looks at his brother, “You been spending a lot of time with her?”

Tommy shrugs. “A bit, yeah. She doesn't really talk much to anyone else. A few people, here and there. I guess I’m just the only person she trusts.”

That pushes a huff of a chuckle out of Joel, the sound tinged with a sudden irritation that he finds is a seed of jealousy. He tries to shove it down, not wanting to give any weight to such a childish, immature feeling, not wanting to direct it onto his brother. But still, the jab falls out of his mouth, “Lucky you.”

Tommy pauses, eyeing him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He looks away, unable to meet Tommy’s questioning gaze. His shoulders are tensed, defensive, and he feels yet another wave of irritation, mostly towards himself, but there's also that nagging bit of jealousy. 

It used to be him. It’s supposed to be him. Him and you, against the world. He’s the one you should trust, the one you always did—looked to, relied on, he’s your shoulder to cry on. But at the same time, the opposite is why he left you. Because you shouldn't rely on him, you shouldn’t trust him, because he’ll let you down, and get you killed, and he doesn’t deserve you. And it’s been proven right—just look at you now. You’re right: he fucks up everything, hurts everyone he loves, he’s a failure. It’s all he ever does. He’s poison. No matter how hard he tries, no matter what he does, everything he thinks he’s doing right, he’s done wrong. 

He hurts everyone. 

Everything hurts. 

It’s his fault. 

Failure. 

“Nothin’. Nevermind.” He mumbles.

“I want her to make friends, Joel.” Tommy replies quickly, “I don’t want her to just trust me, I want her to be a part of a community again.” With a huff, he pauses, reading Joel’s implication, tone firm but gentle. “She trusts me because I’m the only person she knew when she got here, and we don’t… have a history, any bad blood. But that don’t mean she’ll hate you forever.” 

Still staring down at the bar, Joel nods along to Tommy’s words, running his tongue over his teeth. He knows he’s right, he understands why you’ve lost all of it in him—of course you have. And he wants that too, for you to have a community, support, some semblance of peace, safety.It’s all just so much to take in, so much confliction, so many heavy emotions, hitting him like a Mack truck, and he’s just been a deer in the headlights. 

But there he remains, staring it down. Because god damn it, he loves you, and he doesn’t know how to stop. 

He has no real choice in the matter. He knows he has a long, uphill battle ahead of him if he wants any chance to fix things between you and him, to be able to be in your life again, to be able to do something to help you. And then there's that tiny seed of hope, stemming from a sense of need. 

You may have told him you don’t need him, and never did, and he may never admit it out loud, but he needs you. He couldn’t even explain why. But he feels it, that pull in his chest, stronger than ever before, now that he knows where you are, could retrace his steps right back to your door. He needs you. So, he’ll do whatever it takes. To make it right. To be there for you. If there’s any softness left in you for him, anything salvageable, he’ll work himself to the bone for it. It doesn’t matter what it takes, if he needs to strip himself bare and flay himself, if he needs to rework is fucking life for it, if he has to face himself, he will.

Because he owes you that. And he needs you. Not just to know you’re alive, safe. He needs to love you.

“Just… don’t give up on her.” Tommy says again, voice soft, expression almost pleading, not knowing that Joel has already made up his mind, responding with a firm shake of his head, set and determined. “I won’t.” 

Tommy looks at him for a moment before the edge of his lip tugs up, a small, hopeful smile crossing his face. Then he sighs, looking down at the bar. “I’m sorry your introduction to Jackson had to be so… rough. Uh, you hungry? Tired? I can show you where you’ll be stayin’ if you wanna sleep.”

Joel shakes his head, sighing as he leans off of the bar, “Don’t really have much of an appetite right now. Sleep sounds nice, though.”

Tommy nods, smile pulling, the weight of the conversation sliding off of him much easier than it does for Joel, “Alright. Come on, then. I’ll show you the way.” He cocks his head towards the door, getting off of his stool. “We’ve got a few vacant houses. All come pre-furnished—when’s the last time you slept in a real bed?”

Having to really think about that, Joel lets out a low whistle as he stands and follows Tommy out of the bar. “Almost half a year ago now, give or take.”

“Damn,” Tommy chuckles, shaking his head as he pushes open the door and steps back out into the cold winter air. “Well, you’re about to have the best damn sleep in probably longer than that.”

Joel sighs, shoving his hands into his pockets and squinting against a harsh wind, watching the dusk starting to settle down over the sky. Part of him is a little apprehensive nervous about his ability to actually sleep, having a feeling that his brain will refuse to shut the fuck up, but there’s also a good chance that he’ll pass out within a minute of finally setting his head down on a pillow; he barely sleep a wink last night, the last couple days before he finally stumbling into Jackson’s territory happening to be particularly rough. “I hope so.” He mumbles. 

“Well… the bed ain’t going anywhere. You’ll have plenty of chances.” His brother gives him a small smile, eyes flicking over his face for a moment. There’s a hesitance before he speaks again, sounding almost nervous, “Right?”

Joel pauses, caught off guard by the fact that Tommy would even think that he wouldn’t be staying. He really doesn’t have an idea of how hard he worked to get here, does he? How he fought his way across the country to get to him. “Yeah.” He nods curtly. “Hell, this isn’t just some wellness check, Tommy. I’m stayin’.”

Tommy breaks into a larger smile, patting his shoulder and letting it rest there for a moment before putting his hands in his pockets. “Good.” 

Joel smiles back at him, pausing to admire the way his brother's eyes crinkle like that, before turning to glance around the town, actually taking in his surroundings for the first time since he got here. There’s not many people around, which makes sense with the falling sun and biting air, but it still feels strange, with the streets of Boston being so constantly overrun, even in the harsh winters. What’s stranger than that, is the peacefulness about it, the relative normalcy. Hell, almost some holiday cheer. It feels alien, and despite it all, he feels a drip of dread in his gut. 

“We got about 300 people here in Jackson, including children.” Tommy begins to inform him, noticing his gaze. “We got electricity, obviously. Running water, sewer, the works, all powered by a hydroelectric dam. Greenhouses—we grow and slaughter all of our own food. Clinic, jail, house of worship, we even have movie nights every Friday.” He passes him a proud smile. “Stables with about ten horses. Those people that found you out there, those were our patrol volunteers. We have a patrol every morning, noon, and night. Try to keep this place as safe and quiet as we can. Everybody helps out.”

Joel nods along as Tommy speaks, making a mental list of the information about his new ‘home’. It sounds pretty solid, he likes the self sufficiency, the seclusion, despite it being the reason it was so goddamn hard to find him. 

“Movie nights, huh?” Joel inquires, that one bit of information sticking out in its oddity. 

“Yeah.” Tommy nods, flashing another smile. “The kids love it.”

The image of a group of children sitting and casually watching a movie, just… being kids, is a strange one, to say the least. He imagines watching them run through the streets, laughing, kicking a ball or throwing snowballs or something normal like that, and feels his brow twitch. Something like that is so far removed from what he’s known for the past, hell, couple decades, the brutal reality of the world. He’s not sure how he feels about it yet, so he grumbles a different question. “Who picks the damn movie?”

Tommy chuckles. “We vote.”

“Vote, huh? You runnin’ a democracy?”

“Well, uh… I’ve been told it’s more like… communism.” Tommy replies, eyes suddenly glued to the snow as they make their way back up the road towards the houses.

Joel raises his brow, amusement making his lips curl. “Tommy Miller, a communist.”

Tommy sighs, an embarrassed smirk pulling his lips. “I’ve made my peace with it.”

Joel chuckles. “Yeah? And how long did that take?”

Tommy shrugs, turning his head to him again with an almost cheeky smile. “A few solid meals and a shower.”

This makes Joel laugh, the feeling almost startling him, but it's extremely refreshing, the smile sticking to his lips for a few more moments. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

There’s a beat, the only sound being the crunch of snow under their shoes, before Tommy speaks again. “You’re gonna like it here. It’s nice. Peaceful. People are nice.” 

Joel hums. He’s never been a fan of optimism, and seeing it in his brother normally makes him both nervous and annoyed, but he’s tired of fighting. So he changes the subject, mind still stuck on the idea of watching a movie. “You remember when we used to watch those old, shitty Schwarzenegger movies every Saturday?”

Tommy breaks out into a laugh, and the sound raises another smile to Joel’s lips. “Yeah, yeah, I do… by the way, the second Terminator movie is still better than the first one.” 

Joel’s smile widens into a grin, the familiar debate a welcome interruption. “Hell no. The first Terminator is way better. T2 was good, but there’s no topping the original.”

“Nu-uh.” Tommy shakes his head, still smiling. “Special effects got way better, better storyline. Huge improvement.”

Joel scoffs, looking at his brother with feigned offense. “Special effects don’t make a movie good. It’s just flash and bullshit. Judgment Day was just a cash-grab sequel.”

Tommy snickers, shaking his head. “You’re never gonna admit I’m right, are you?”

“Nope. Just like I’m never gonna admit you got better aim than me—same story, you’re just wrong.”

Tommy huffs a chuckle through his nose, grinning. “Still a stubborn old bastard, huh?” 

Joel rolls his eyes, though he can’t wipe the smirk off of his face. “Still a pain in my ass.”

“Guess some things never change.”

“Guess so.”

There’s another lull in conversation as they walk down the street of houses before Tommy raises his hand to point, “That’s me, right up there. House across the street is empty, so, I figured we’d post you up right there. That way, if you ever need me, I’m just a hop, skip, and a jump away.” Joel is about to make fun of his brother for using such a goofy phrase, but as looks to where he’s pointing, his eyes flick to the house just next to his—it’s yours. 

Instantly, he shoots Tommy a glare. “Really?” He says in a hushed tone. 

Tommy shrugs, a tight lipped grimace on his face. “Hey, the next open house is a ways away. I wanted to keep you close.”

Joel just huffs, shaking his head as he glances at your house again. “Jesus, Tommy… what if she gets a wild hair up her ass and decides to come murder me?”

“I mean… she could do the same thing if you lived anywhere else. And, at least I’ll be able to come right over if I hear you screaming.” Joel shoots him another sharp glare, and Tommy has to hold back a chuckle. Rolling his eyes, Joel grumbles, “Great. Thanks.”

“Come on,” Tommy begs, grinning. “You’ll be fine. You’ll be good. Just go get some sleep, alright?” He places a comforting hand on Joel’s shoulder, and he nods. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll try.” 

“I’ll come grab you in the morning, alright? We do meals all together. Like, whole town, serve yourself type’a deal. We’ll go together.”

Joel nods. Whatever that is will be a tomorrow problem. “Alright.”

“Good.” Tommy nods, digging into his pocket for a key to hold out to him. “Then I’ll uh… let you settle in, and see you in the morning.”

“Yeah.” He nods back, letting him drop the key into his palm. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

As he hears Tommy’s footsteps recede, Joel stares down at the key, seeing it as a concrete signifier that he lives here now, in a house, in Jackson, this small, peaceful little bubble, where his brother is, and where you are. “Hey, wait,” he croaks out after his brother, tearing his eyes away from the key in his palm. 

“Yeah?” Tommy answers, turning around to face him again. 

He hesitates, shifting on his feet as he feels a pang of anxiety. After a short moment, he swallows his pride and pushes out, “Could I, uh… ask you for a favor?”

“‘Course.” Tommy responds almost instantly, stepping back over to him. 

Joel swallows, a hint of uncertainty about the question pulling him, but, though he looks down at his feet while he does, he can’t help but ask, “I was wondering if you could uh, just… talk to Y/n for me. I just think it might, uh…”

“Yeah.” Tommy nods, giving him a reassuring smile. “Yeah. ‘Course.”

Joel looks up at him, relieved by the painless answer. He swallows again, giving him a small nod back. “Just… try to convince her that I didn’t come all the way out here to make her life miserable. I’m…” he sighs, “I’m trying. To… be better.”

Tommy nods again. “Yeah. I know.”

Joel gives him another short nod, a pang of guilt and unease already starting to settle back into his heart, but all he really wants is to fucking sleep. “Alright, thanks, Tommy. I’ll uh, see you in the morning.”

“See you tomorrow.” He replies, giving him another light smile before turning back to walk back across the street. Joel watches him disappear into his house before turning to his own. Two stories, a dark, muted blue, with a roofed porch. He walks up to the front door, analyzing the state of the wood—sturdy—and seal around the door—secure—before he turns the key in the lock, and pushes the door open.  

It’s dark, silent, but there’s a blow of warm air from inside, and he cautiously lets himself in, slowly closing the door and locking it behind him. He looks around for a light switch, finding one just beside the door, and flicks it on. Looking around, he becomes acutely aware of how unfamiliar the space is to him, despite the homely furnishings. It looks like a real home—a couch, armchair, fireplace with a rug before it, artwork on the walls. 

Slowly, he makes his way through the house, exploring every room. Towels and basic toiletries in the bathroom. Bowls, plates, cups and mugs in the cupboards in the kitchen. An office, a leatherbound journal and pencils in the drawer. A smaller bedroom in the back of the upstairs, a master in the front. A note in the dresser drawer with the address of where they’ll, apparently, “give you” clothes. 

After shutting the drawer, his eyes finally land on the bed. Made, military style, with a clean, white, floral print bedspread. A couple layers of blankets. Mouth basically watering as he stares at it, Joel shrugs off his coat and hangs it on the door, untying his boots and setting them beside it, before he finally sinks down into the mattress. Fuck its comfortable. He has half a mind to stay right there, laying on top, but he decides to crawl under the covers, and laying under the heavy layers is where the exhaustion finally overtakes him. 

He drifts off quickly, sleep coming to him in almost record time. It’s deep, and delightfully dreamless, before it comes to an abrupt end. 

He wakes up with a start, jerking up in bed. Despite his groggy haze, his heart is racing, eyes blinking through the darkness, trying to discern the unfamiliar surroundings. When he remembers where he is, he lets out a sigh, but then everything comes flooding back, and he leans his forehead into his hand with a quiet swear. 

He takes a few more breaths, trying to gauge if he’ll be able to just fall back asleep, before letting out another gruff swear when he realizes the answer is likely no. The digital clock on the nightstand read 3:20am. Not even close to sunrise. 

With an annoyed sigh, he pushes the covers off of himself and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, sighing again. There’s still an unexplained feeling of unease in his gut, but he can’t tell if he should follow it or just wave it off as paranoia. However, he has literally nothing else to do, so, with a soft groan, he pushes himself off the bed and shuffles out into the hallway. 

The moon casts a soft, gray light through the window, floorboards groaning softly under his socked feet, knees cracking as he makes his way downstairs, examining a hung painting of flowers that reminds him too much of a Clicker’s face. With a sigh, he carefully removes it, folding under his arm as he walks the rest of the way down to the first floor and then carefully sets it against the wall. He pauses, hands on his hips as he stares up at the nail left, inclined to take it out now and see if there’s any chance of there being supplies to fix the hole hiding somewhere in the basement, then making a mental note to go on a shopping spree at the general store for the things that will always be in a Miller home, god damn it. Just as the groggy annoyance at this sudden problem starts to set in, his ears perk, head turning to a sound coming from outside. Tilting his head, he shuffles over to the window beside the stairs, squinting as he parts the curtains and looks around, searching for its origin. It’s faint, and soft, but he could recognize it anywhere. 

You’re singing. 

[perry-the-platypus-f1cs]

Addition to my Dadler and Gravesson au

read it on Ao3

Mr Bell, come out and play. PT1

Aceplaysgames7462

Summary:

Bell lives, slowly crawling his way back to try and find out who he was before Mk ultra only to find nothing. Absolutely nothing its as if his life before his capture was non existent, and so he moved on slowly and meticulously planning every painful way he could hurt or kill Adler and the safehouse crew. But one little small American child sized problem shows itself.

bell lives slowly crawling their way back to try and find out who they were before Mk ultra only to find nothing. Absolutely nothing its as if their life before their capture was non existent, and so they move on slowly and meticulously planning every painful way they could hurt or kill Adler and the safehouse crew.

But one little small American child sized problem shows itself.

Bell finally found Alder's home, a quite large double story house in San Diego, California. Its exactly what bell expected, a house bought from the money Adler gained from the hellish things he had done the furniture meticulously clean and placed expertly around the home to make it feel open and light but Bell saw the small inaccuracies, scattered folders, dirty ashtrays, pilled tape recorders. Evidence of two lives bleeding together.

Then bell made his way towards the kitchen trying to find the elusive CIA clandescent special officer or at least a place to wait for him to return, and there it is a few simple pieces of paper stuck to the pearl white fridge with a few animal magnets scribbled pictures starkly contrasted with the entire space the bright markers almost blinding against the white and beige furniture and atmosphere but its what the drawing shows is what truly makes the wheels in Bells head turn.

The drawing is of a man and a child its shoddily drawn that for sure but what is a childish drawing like this doing in the home of America's devil?

Bell awareness is sharply drawn away from the fridge as he hears loud footsteps coming from the staircase behind him, He turn around his hand reaching for the gun attached to his hip but he stops.

Standing there on the fourth stair from the floor is.......a child.

thin blonde hair, pale skin and deep blue eyes. The child's eyes are wide and filled with curiosity and slight fear its lips trembling as it speaks voice high and squeaky "Who are you mister"?" Adler has a child. Russell Adler has a child. the thought is unfamiliar and alien in Bell's mind the idea that Adler could even care for anything albeit a child is ludicrous and yet here he stood Infront of a mini Adler a gun on his hip.

The child's words finally registered in bell's mind and without thinking he spoke acting only on instinct "Name's bell, I'm a friend of your old man." as Bell said the words out loud it felt as though acid was being poured down his throat but the child took the bait not seemingly bothered by the dark balaclava he wore.

the child visibly relaxes a bright smile lighting up his face "nice to meet you mister bell! my name's Phillip!" Bell looks at the child, the child of his enemy, his torturer, the the conductor of the orchestra of pain he has endured since that faithful day on the airstrip in turkey.

Hours pass and Bell spends more time with the child. Phillip, he doesn't know why he haven't left somewhere deep down he cannot find it in him to leave Phillip alone again, And so he waits watching as the child plays oblivious to the real danger that he is in.

Phillip is sat on the lounge floor papers and crayons scattered around his small form various drawing have been made most of the titled 'bell and me' the drawing are shit but Bell doesn't care he nods and tell graves good job every time the child shoves another picture on his lap and every time Phillip smile so big it could light up the whole world before rushing back onto the floor to make another scraggily masterpiece.

The peaceful tranquility is broken as the sound of keys and the front door unlocking and opening reach Bell's ears, his spin goes rigid, body taut an cruel dangerously like a snake ready to strike.

"Phillip I'm home!"

a shout from the front door and footsteps coming towards the lounge. Adler. the voice is unmistakably his, the damn American accent and drawl of his voice echo's slightly through the vast house. Phillip is on his feet in less than a second a wide smile stretched across his small face his small feet carrying his as fast as a bullet down the long hallway a symphony of "daddy!" heavy panting and the sounds of a long hug ring through Bell's eardrums.

Bell's heart twists his hand lowering to the gun attached to his hip. He unhooks it holing it in hi lap where a drawing rested only a few seconds ago "daddy! come look-look at the drawing i made of me and Mister Bell!" Phillip pants dragging Adler down the hallway his small hand barely encasing Alder's large hand.

"Mister Bell like your teddy bear-?" Adler speaks confusion in his voice as he's dragged by his son into the lounge, Phillip runs to the floor in the middle of the circle of papers and crayons. But Adler stands, frozen, eyes wide in the doorway staring at the man he thought he killed leaning back on his couch a gun in hand. his child, his son not even 12 feet away from the man wearing the same damn balaclava that he wore all those months ago at solovetsky.

"hello Adler."

[mindmelter]

Step By Step

"Thank you for setting me free," All football players said in perfect unison, their deep voices in perfect synch like in a choir. "Thank you for finding me these hosts. I will forever be grateful to you."

I looked up at the line of jocks, all stacked up on the stairs, shirtless and ripped, their muscles were covered in sweat after an intense football practice. They stared down at me with adoring eyes.

I still couldn’t believe what was happening.

Infecting the football team water system with that slimy alien substance I found inside a capsule at an abandoned building? Genius move. Now, all these arrogant, straight jocks are mere hosts for the alien slime—every single one of them.

The alien is a Hivemind parasite, capable of seamlessly infiltrating and controlling multiple human bodies at once. A single drop of the slime is enough for the alien to turn a brain into goo.

I grinned at them, "You’re welcome. Now… It's time to show me how grateful you really are. Don't you think? I'm not trying to rub it in, but if it weren't for me, you'd still be stuck inside that abandoned lab."

"I appreciate your help. Please, come enjoy your reward!" The football players flexed their biceps at the same time.

I took a step onto the front line of hot jocks. Their eyes were empty, dead, but their bodies? Perfect and ready to be enjoyed by the nerd they never even knew existed. My hand reached out, running over the hard, thick pecs of the football player on the far right. I stuck my tongue out and began to lick his sweaty body, tasting the salt on his hard muscles.

"That's great, keep tasting my muscles, You’ve earned this, dude!" This time only the jock I was worshiping spoke.

I grabbed his bulge and was disappointed to feel he was soft. "Can you make them all hard, please?"

"Your wish is my command!" They all said this time. In seconds I felt the jock's cock growing in my grip.

I then focused on the hunky black jock on his side. Leaning in, I pressed my lips to his neck, then trailed kisses down his chest, tasting the salt on his skin, breathing in his manly musk. He didn't move, just stood there, letting me explore his dark nipples with my tongue.

"That's right, enjoy my nipples, you deserve it champ!"

I smirked and wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pressed our bodies together, kissing him deeply, his lips warm and soft against mine. My hand then slid down his pants, feeling the thick shaft in his shorts. He stood still, letting me take my time to enjoy every inch of him.

After I finished making out with the stud, I went to the head-shaved jock on his side and did the same to him, and then to the next...

After I was done with the first line, I took one step up the stairs. I was now at eye level with a new set of thick, bulging pecs. I focused on a pale blond jock and started to kiss him passionately. I felt his hands on my ass, and his hard cock pocking my crotch.

I kept switching. Jock by jock. Step by step. Squeezing my lean small body between those huge and sweaty muscles. Every new step brought another line of hot, hard bodies, and I would touch, feel, and taste each one of them. My hands explored every muscle, my mouth tasted all their sweat, and my nose smelled their musky armpits.

The alien didn't just make them stand there. The jocks would kiss me and even hug me from behind, like they were fighting for my attention. They pressed their hard cocks against my ass while whispering sweet compliments in my ear, thanking me and saying things I never thought I'd hear from the mouths of such hot, straight jocks.

By the time I reached the top of the stairs, I was breathless and my mouth was hurting, but I still was just as horny as when I was at the bottom of the stairs.

"Let's go to the locker room. A successful takeover like this deserves a big gay orgy as a celebration!" I said. They all cheered and started chanting my name like I was their savior. Two muscular jocks lifted me on their shoulders and carried me to the locker room.

[moosemink]

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽Batman is a scary cat - Do not Pet!☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Pairing: Dick Grayson/Wally West Characters: Batfam | Justice League Word count: 5.801 A/N: My first Posted Fic on AO3 and Tumblr, have fun reading ^^ AO3 Masterlist

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

It had been a long day for the Justice League. They had been fighting off an alien invasion since the sun broke through the night.

The aliens were of no big threat, weak as they were, but the sheer amount of them threatened to drown Gotham.

It was an interesting choice to start an invasion as it surely wasn’t the most appealing of humanities cities. Gotham is dark and cold to outsiders, keeping only her children warm and close.

The JL were sure the Dark Knight wouldn’t have even let them in to her to help if it wasn’t for the number of the enemies. As the sole protector of Gotham even he had to accept their help.

At least that was what the JL thought. They knew next to nothing about the Bat. How Superman had convinced the lone Bat to join was a mystery for all but Wonder Woman. They were the only two who seemed to know a bit more about the dark knight, though they never admitted to it when asked.

They were just about done fending off the invaders as, in a last desperate or maybe plain petty move, the leader of the aliens let go one last spell as he fled onto his ship and closed the portal behind himself. The spell manifested in a blue lightning that felt ice cold as it rushed past Barry and made next to no sound as it hit.

As it hit the person next to him.

The person next to him had been Batman.

Barry turned around as quick as he could, which was very, he’s the flash after all, just to see the dust settle and where once the dark knight stood now only a ball of black fur sat.

It took Barry’s brain long enough to compute what had happened that Hal had figured it out before him.

“Did- Did spooky get turned into a cat ?”, Hal’s voice trembled. As he carefully approached the bundle of darker-than-the-night fur.

Said bundle swiped his claws at the green hero, leaving a deep gash in the approaching hand. The wail that followed cut through the air and called over the other JL members. All of them were ready to fight which brought out a chuckle from Barry. Wonder Woman shot him a glare and Superman looked confused as he saw the, frankly, enormous black cat in between his teammates.

“Batman clawed me!” Hal squawked. He pointed at the cat in an accusatory manner and then stretched his bleeding hand towards the other members.

“Batman?” The man of steel asked, he tilted his head in confusion as he studied the wound and then the cat.

It was sat there with an air of self satisfaction while eyeing Hal. He raised a paw, clearly showing of his claws that glinted in the rare Gotham moonlight, he tenderly started cleaning the paw. Sending very familiar glares towards his victim.

As the cat then lowered his paw the team could finally spot the grey bat shape that cut through the deep black fur on the feline’s chest.

It was then that it clicked for everyone. Batman had indeed been turned into a cat.

He was certainly larger than any cat Barry had ever seen before, reminiscent of his large stature as a human. Even in cat form and hidden by the long dark fur this cat was muscular enough to make Barry self conscious. And even in cat form Batman kept his incredible jawline.

Barry felt weird feeling inferior to a cat. A shiver went through his body as the Cat settled his startling blue eyes on him. The Batglare™ translated way too well into the dark knights feline body. Barry was glad that the cat went and glared at each member separately, certainly expecting one of them to do something. Not wanting to make the man angry, Barry decided to be the one to do something, so he opened his mouth,

“So what do we do now ?”, Even he was disappointed in himself so he tried again, “Does he remember being Batman,” he went and tried to meet the cats eyes as he asked, “Do you remember being Batman ?”

The dark knight nodded and Barry could swear he looked glad that things were finally moving along.

“That is a good start.” Wonder Woman cut in, finally the rest of the league started to recover from the initial shock of their most stoic and scary member turning into the scariest cat to ever walk the earth.

“We should contact Zatanna, she should know how to reverse this.” Aquaman suggested and then added a quiet, “I hope.” He stepped away to the other side of the rooftop they were on to do just that after receiving another of the fluffy knights glares.

The rest of the team just stood around not knowing what to do. Hal nursed his now healing hand while Green Arrow kept making fun of him.

“If you think it’s so funny why don’t you try and pet him ! He’s vicious ! And he hates me !”

“I’m not that stupid. I know he’ll claw my eyes out.

“Pussy.”

That single word is all it took for Green Arrow to give petting the cat turned vigilante a try. While he grumbled, “I’m not a pussy!”

Barry who had decided to simply sit on the roofs ledge next to the black feline together with Wally, he saw the other green idiot of their team approaching and started to shake his head while sending silent warning towards him. But a stupid man’s pride is hard to fight as he watched his teammate reach out his hand. His body leaning as far away as possible.

Before he even touched Batman’s fur the silence of Gotham was teared through by an impressive screech. A big, bleeding gash was now present on Green Arrows hand and he stumbled backwards as he clenched his hand in pain. Certainly annoyed with the green men Batman stood up and moved for the first time. He moved with the mesmerizing grace of a cat and you could see the impressive muscles dance as he hurried across the roof and became one with the shadows even as a cat.

“I’ll follow him!”, Wally called out before Barry could stop him. The JL watched their youngest member sprint after the cat. They stayed behind as they didn't want to anger the bat by all moving through Gotham's streets without him allowing it.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

Wally really did his best to keep up with the dark knight but the man was now small, way quicker and this was Wally’s first time in Gotham. It took everything he had to keep track of Batman as he traversed his home terrain as if he had always been a cat.

After chasing the black shadow for at least 10 minutes (?), Wally was bad with time, he came to an abrupt halt as he watched the black cat climb the roof, he followed of course.

On the roof stood a sleek figure that Wally didn’t recognize. The person turned around revealing a blue bird logo stretching over his full chest and down his arms. His face was only covered by a simple blue domino mask, with white lenses that reminded Wally of Batman’s cowl. The man’s hair was black and framed his face beautifully. Wally’s gaze kept nervously jumping between the skin tight suit and the face of the stranger.

Wally was ripped out of his mesmerized state as the man spoke with an accent he couldn’t place, “Flash, what are you still doing in Gotham ? I thought the aliens already left ?” It was said in a friendly tone and the man was smiling but Wally could feel the danger behind the words. It was a subtle way to warm him to get out of Gotham. It send a shiver down Wally’s spine, it was unfair that the guy was this attractive while threatening him.

“I-“ before he could give his explanation, Batman stepped out of the shadows in his full feline glory, meowing one single, impressively deep meow at the man.

The vigilante, Wally guessed at least, looked at the cat for just a second before breaking out in a loud, gorgeous laugh that earned him the Batglare™. But to Wally’s shock the young man didn’t react at all to the silent threat. No, he even moved forward and scooped Batman into his arms before Wally could give him a warning.

But the young vigilante stayed unharmed. Batman simply started purring as the man scratched him behind his ears. Batman was purring. 'Holy shit!'

“This is definitely a first for you B.'' He let out a giggle as a wide grin settled onto his face. ''I know of some people who would absolutely love to see this!” The young man started to move to jump of the roof but was stopped by Wally who had moved forward and grabbed him by the arm with a, “Please wait!”

Batman glared at him and Wally wanted to run away but steeled his heart as he quickly released his hold on the black and blue vigilante. “Can I ask who you are ? Where are you taking him ?” Wally asked sheepishly. He could feel himself blush as the other vigilante gave him a genuinely amused smile. God he was way too beautiful, so unfair !

The young man looked to the cat in his arms, he put on a fake and exaggerated offended look and called out, “You haven’t told them about me ?” The guy looked at Wally and as their eyes met, a seductive glint in the man's eyes, he added, “You kept this pretty thing from me B ? How mean of you.”

Wally was barely able to keep his jaw from dropping to the floor. He felt his whole system overheat as the man gave him a playfully flirty smile. “Name is Nightwing, it’s very nice to meet you.”

Welp, Wally’s brain was officially mush.

Before the flirting could go further Batman gently tapped Nightwing's face to get his attention back. Nightwing gave the cat a look and then gently tugged at Wally’s hand.

“Follow me.” He said while turning back towards the roof’s ledge. Batman flicked his tail to voice his discontent but was skillfully ignored by the other Gotham vigilante.

They moved through Gotham quickly but not as quick as they probably could considering Nightwing was carrying an enormous black cat. That didn’t stop him from showing off a trick here or there though while smiling at Wally in that brain melting way.

They stopped after a while on top of a tall building next to the even taller Wayne Enterprises Tower.

Nightwing tapped his comm and it clicked to life.

“Hey Red, is the baby Bat still with you ?”

“That’s great, I’ll be coming up with a new friend.” The grin that placated itself on the vigilantes face made Wally nervous, a grin like that never meant anything good but as it was directed at somebody that wasn’t Wally he actually got excited to see what had Nightwing smiling like that.

To Wally’s surprise the WE Tower had a secret elevator that was activated with a system that reminded him a lot of the Zeta Tubes.

He was interrupted in his marveling by Nightwing, who pulled Wally into the elevator with an unfair smoothness and Wally could feel his heart explode and his face heat up as he was now way too close to the black and blue clad vigilante. Nightwing, all though smaller than Wally, was leaning forward, propping himself up with his arm that he had promptly placed next to Wally's head, pressing Wally against the Wall. It took everything out off Wally to not faint as Nightwing leaned a bit closer and whispered into his ear, “Hey cutie~”

Wally could feel Nightwing's warm breath on the little skin his suit showed and his gaze settled on the soft lips of the flirty vigilante before him. His eyes then traveled down the man's body, clearly eyeing the captivating anatomy that was wrapped tightly by the black fabric, until he saw that Nightwing was standing on his toes to make himself tall enough for the move he had pulled. Wally could barely contain a snort as he regained his brain functions and swiftly reversed their positions. He was now properly towering over the other man. Wall slamming him in sweet revenge. A satisfied grin on his face as he saw the other blush ever so slightly. ''If anything you're the cutie here.'', He said only to suddenly feel a shudder running down his back. He turned his head and spotted the Batcat starring at him as if he had murdered the man's entire family.

Nightwing also noticed the disturber and huffed out in annoyance accompanied by an eye roll that translated despite the domino mask. He gently pushed past Wally to prevent any actual murder. Wally suddenly righted himself, when he felt Nightwing playfully squeeze his ass as he moved past. They were now standing either side of Batman which seemed to please the dark knight.

They rode up the elevator while Wally and Nightwing shared a few glances that Batman certainly wasn't happy about. As the doors finally opened again they revealed a more than tired looking teenager, a domino mask slapped on haphazardly. The elevator ride had been much shorter than it actually felt to Wally he now realized.

The smell of coffee hit Wally hard as the teen vigilante opened his mouth to say something only to stop as he noticed the Cat turned dark knight.

It took a moment before he was keeled over laughing, hard. Wally was absolutely startled by the blatant disrespect the Gotham vigilantes showed Batman. He wondered about their relationship to the man.

''Red, what are you laughing about ?'', A young voice came from an opened door a bit down the hall. The coldness of it reminded Wally of the Big Bat and it deeply unsettled him. He wondered if that was what the man had sounded like as a child before he went on to wonder if the bat ever was a child. He just couldn't picture it.

''Baby Bat !'', Nightwing called out and brought Wally back to reality. He watched as the black and blue vigilante rushed down the hall and scooped a child up into his arms and then started to turn and swing the child around above his head. Wally was embarrassed to admit that his gaze lingered way too long on the man's cake factory.

A-hem Ahem

''Would you please step out of the elevator now ? And maybe stop ogling.''

Wally turned a new shade of red, redder even than his hair as he begrudgingly did follow that advice, and stepped out of the elevator. He only now noticed that Batman had moved to sit next to the teen vigilante and Wally could swear the cat gave the teen a very disapproving glare.

''I did sleep. Do not look at me like that B.'' The teen said leveling Batman with a unsettlingly similar glare. It was impressive how they seemed to have a full conversation with only their eyes, despite the domino mask. It ended as Nightwing approached, the child, the 'Baby Bat', on his hip. The kid did not look happy to be carried, his arms crossed and a scowl clear as day even through the black domino mask he too was wearing. It wasn't crooked like the teen's though Wally silently noted.

Now that Wally observed the three people in front of him he had to wonder if they might be brothers. They all had black hair, though at different lengths. The only difference were their skin colors, half brothers maybe ? The way they acted though made it clear to Wally that they were at least brothers at heart, if not by blood.

Wally was yet again called back to reality as he heard Nightwing's gorgeous laugh, while he had been lost in his thoughts the child had noticed Batman. He looked incredibly troubled and caught between wanting to pet the cat and knowing who that cat really was. Wally couldn't help letting out a chuckle while watching the boy twitch with indecisiveness. He froze as a batarang suddenly embedded itself in the wall behind Wally next to his head. He would've been hit if not for the speed force. He choked on his own air as he met the child's glare.

''Robin could you please not kill Flash ?'' Nightwing asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

''It did not hit him, he is fine. He laughed at father, so he should be prepared for death.'' The child vigilante snarled back.

Wally could swear he saw a hint of fondness behind Batman's glare this time. He could also hear the teen mutter a 'God damn demon brat', followed by a louder, ''Good going at revealing that tidbit of info idiot.''

'Father', it kept replaying in Wally's head. Batman has children. Plural.

The guy he had been crushing on and who had been flirting with him is probably Batman's son. 'I Wall slammed Batman's son... In front of Batman.'

Wally's whole body vibrated with nervousness and he could swear that he was about to phase through the floor. To his luck Nightwing tapped his shoulder and saved him from that. ''You okay there handsome ?''

''Ew. Get a room.'', The teen called while the mini Batman simply scowled at Wally, way to similar to Batman. Wally's whole body shook at that. He watched Nightwing stick his tongue out at the two in retaliation.

It was then that Wally decided to change the topic before he was killed, ''What is your name by the way ?'', he asked the teen. Said teen looked at Batman and then at Nightwing, again they talked without a single word, though Wally could swear he could hear a quiet chirping sound this time.

''My name is Red Robin.'', the teen turned towards Wally offering him a hand to shake. Wally not daring to offend a Bat, shook the hand and added a, ''Pleasure to meet you.'' Though it took everything in him not to blurt out a 'like the restaurant?'.

''Hope meeting me was more of a pleasure.'' Nightwing inquired, boldly plopping his head on Wally's shoulder while hugging the taller man from behind. Wrapping his hands around his hips. Wally froze in shook before relaxing into the touch. '' 'course it was.'' He smiled while cupping Nightwing's face with one hand and giving him a flirty smile. Both of them were blushing, though it was barely visible in Nightwing's case while plainly obvious in Wally's.

Meow

A deep growled meow came from Batman and Nightwing separated from Wally with an eye roll. The Dark knight stood up, tail swishing angrily as he moved to sit in front of the elevator doors.

''I guess we probably should, huh ?'' Nightwing said. ''You driving us Red?''

The teen rolled his eyes and didn't answer, he did move towards the elevator though, so Wally guessed that he would drive them, where ever they were going. Wally was visibly nervous but he went along as Nightwing took his hand and gently tugged him towards the now open elevator. The whole group entered and Wally suppressed a chuckle as he saw that Batman had allowed Robin to pick him up. The cat half the child's size. It was a sight to behold.

The drive was awkward as the three brothers chatted about their patrol and Wally couldn't join in. Though he was flabbergasted as he learned that Nightwing had actually been fighting the aliens with the JL, he had been taking care of all the stragglers the JL missed. While not one of them had noticed the helper in the shadows. Wally then was promptly pulled into telling the other passengers embarrassing stories about the Justice League. He was hopeful but the speedster was not treated to any embarrassing anecdotes about the big Bat. Could that guy even do something embarrassing ?

The drive was over fairly quickly. Wally marveled as the water parted and they drove through the waterfall into a deep dark cave. The Batcave actually existed ! Wally was speechless as his eyes darted all over the place. His eyes immediately zeroing in on the Bat-Mobile as they got out of Red Robins fittingly Red, definitely custom, WE sports car. He wasn't allowed enough time to even glance at the other many vehicles parked at the garage entrance as the Bat-Brothers hurried up some stairs leading up into the rest of the cave. They were clearly used to this place.

Wally was caught in a perpetual state of awe as he spotted the workshop, the many bat and not bat themed weapons and other items. He was especially mesmerized by the different suits in glass cases along the wall. He noticed that most were empty sans a bright yellow suit. Wally quietly counted the empty cases. 1... 3... 6... 9 ! He counted nine empty cases. ''I work alone my ass'', Wally muttered and Red robin and Nightwing both chuckled at his words.

Wally was absolutely not prepared for the monstrosity that was the Bat-Computer or the giant T-Rex, giant Penny and giant Playing card for that matter. He looked at Nightwing for answers, a desperate and pleading look on his face. He got a laugh in answer but also a very welcome vigilante leaning onto him to steady himself in his laughing fit.

Red Robin smoothly jumped onto the chair in front of the Bat-Computer and twirled the chair around as he got in position. Again Wally noticed that he seemed very used to this. Quick, hurried keyboard typing then a voice asked in a deep drawl, ''Yo, replacement what ya calling fo' ?'' Wally could hear flesh hitting flesh in the background and the sound of pained groans. It quieted down after the sound of a breaking bone ringed through the comm.

''I need you to herd some lost sheep to the Batcave.''

''Lost sheep ? Care to elaborate Red?'' The man on the other end of the line sounded confused. Wally felt bad for him as he saw a mischievous grin spread on the teen's face.

''I think that's enough info, it's simple really. I'll send you the coordinates.'' Red hid his grin expertly. His hands flew over the keyboard masterfully while he spoke.

It was quiet for a few minutes. Then seething voice rung through the comm, ''Why the FUCK, is the JL here ? DON'T tell me those are the lost sheep replacement.''

Red didn't answer, Wally could see him fighting a laugh down. ''Replacement, I know you're laughing. You're so payin' for this.'' The man drawled then the comm clicked off.

While the three waited Wally watched Red Robin type more on the Bat Computer, it was almost too fast for even him to follow. Then his gaze wandered over to Robin who had walked back to Red's car and was now carrying what Wally guessed were their vigilante suits. He brought them to the cases and started putting them away. Then Wally glanced at Nightwing who had been standing right next to him. Their eyes met and Nightwing pulled him to sit down on a work bench.

Wally then realized that he hadn't seen Batman since they left the car. He started to look around and search for the Cat turned man when he found him sitting next to the keyboard, observing Red working. He met Wally's eyes and Wally quickly averted his gaze again, settling them on the much more pleasant view of Nightwing's gorgeous face. Said face was scrunched up in worry. Wally didn't quite know what to do so he simply placed his hand on Nightwing's hand in a hopefully reassuring manner.

It was then that the sound of a speeding motorcycle cut through the silence. Shortly followed by a fridge of a man sprinting into the room. His face hidden fully by a red helmet, Wally could feel the anger seep off of him. Wally half shocked on his breath 'That's the fucking Red Hood'. Hood promptly tackled Red Robin who had gotten up and moved away from the expensive technology, probably expecting it.

Seconds later the whole of the Justice League rushed into the cave as well. Wally watched Superman almost crash from shock as it dawned on the team where they had been led.

''Welcome to the Batcave.'', Nightwing chirped, he had moved to the railing looking down over the parking lot of the cave. His hands spread wide as he addressed the clearly stressed heroes.

With a red flash Barry stood next to Wally, looking him over. ''I'm okay uncle.'' He couldn't help the fond smile at the older man's worry. Nightwing Looked a little disappointed at being ignored. Though he quickly got what he had hoped for as Hal exclaimed louder than need be, ''HOLY SHIT IT'S REAL!''

A wide grin settled on Nightwing's face and he beamed with excitement as he eyed the hero. Wally watched with shock as Nightwing promptly climbed on top of the railing and launched himself up and forward. He rushed forward but he could only watch as Nightwing did some very impressive somersaults and landed with the grace of a thousand swans. The heroes were as flabbergasted as Wally, though he had quickly moved on to being captivated and leaning onto the railing. His head propped up in his hands as he swooned over the vigilante.

''Damn, you're like gone gone for Dickwing, huh ?'' Wally startled at the deep voice from behind him. He whirled around to see Red Hood look at him with a smugness that showed despite the face wear and the voice modulator.

''It has been quite disgusting to witness.'', Robin shimed in from the side. He had at some point left to change into more comfortable clothes. ''Truly.'', Red agreed from next to Hood.

Nightwing had in that time signaled the JL to follow him back up and they had hesitantly complied. Barry joined his team again once they reached the top.

''So Red, why the fuck did you have me lead the JL to the suppose-to-be-secret Batcave ?'' The question was promptly answered as Batman moved to sit in front of Red Hood. It took only a second before Hood fell to the floor loudly cackling at the Cat turned Bat. The JL, sans Wally, watched with baited breath. Red Hood a famed Gotham crime lord laughing in Batman's face. No way the bat won't break his No-Kill-Rule, right ?

But nothing happened except for the dark knight angrily whipping his tail from left to right. The JL were speechless. Even more so as they noticed that Red robin had taken out his phone and was filming the scene. Wally couldn't help but giggle at the whole sight. Nightwing joined him, leaning close to Wally and making his heart skip more than one beat.

It was then that the familiar sound of a zeta tube firing up could be heard. A computer voice announced 'A26 - Zatanna'.

Everyone watched as she strolled into the cave casually and with much confidence. She pushed past the the JL members blocking the way until she stood in front of Batman. She eyed him for a moment before a relieved look settled onto her face. ''It's easily reversible.'', an air of relief settled over the cave and a few people were able to finally breath out and relax their tense shoulders. ''Should I reverse it right now ?''

Superman opened his mouth but before he could make a sound Red Hood shot out an answer, ''Hell nah ! The others have to see this !''

''They should be here soo-'' Red Robin started but was interrupted by a teen sprinting down the stairs behind them and the rumbles of more motorcycles pulling into the cave.

The dark skinned teen, a domino mask placed even more crookedly than Red's on his face, was followed by an old posh looking butler. He too wore a black domino, holding onto his arm was a woman dressed in a comfy over-sized wool pullover and a pair of black leather pants, matching her leather cowl. The JL members recognized her instantly as Catwoman. Yet another rogue in the Batcave. Nervous and confused glances jumped from her to Red Hood and then to Batman, still a cat by the way.

Catwoman looked a little confused herself until she spotted the big black cat. She let go of the butler's arm and rushed over to scoop up the feline. She cooed excitedly until she spotted and saw the bat symbol on the cat's chest. It seemed to click then why the JL were present as she started to laugh loudly. She stretched out her arms to observe the fluffy knight in all his glory and then held him up to show the other presences that had joined the crowd without anyone noticing. Well nobody except for the Gotham natives of course. Three young girls were now cooing over the Batcat, who seemed to have just accepted his fate. With the ding of an elevator another girl joined, masked as all the other Gotham vigilantes were. She was sat in a wheelchair but she still moved without sound. Which Wally had only now realized all the Gotham natives in the room did. Another boy had at some point joined them, for once with brown instead of the black hair the other boys had.

Wally was very amused as he watched the group coo over Batman, passing him around while petting him. The JL completely frozen still and absolutely out of their element. For about twenty minutes it stayed that way until Batman voiced his desire to finally be human again with a single deep meow.

He was gently placed on the ground and Zatanna approached him. She spoke some words Wally could not understand and with a bright flash the Cat had been turned into the familiar tall, broody vigilante. The first thing he did is let his gaze wander over everyone in the room. Then a deep tired sigh escaped the man. It sounded very human, a rare thing for the always composed man. Wally noted for himself that it sounded like the sigh of a tired father.

''You have some explaining to do, huh old man.'', Hood chirped and earned himself the Batglare™.

''I guess I do.'' The Dark Knight conceded nonetheless. ''Justice League, meet my family.'' At that the Batfamily gathered to one spot and basically stood at attention, sans Catwoman and the Butler. Batman motioned for them to speak and so they did.

''Name is Nightwing, oldest brother, first Robin.'' He gave a playful salute and a wide excited grin. It made Wally's heart skip another beat.

''Name 's Red Hood, second oldest, second Robin, EX-Crime-lord.'' He shot the JL an angry glare as he emphasized the last part.

''Black Bat, actual second oldest'', the, especially next to Hood small, woman quietly said. She gave Hood a look that he met. Wally stifled a laugh, it seemed to be an ongoing argument between the two.

''My name 's Red Robin, fourth oldest, third Robin.'' He gave Barry, Oliver and Hal a very pointed glare. Wally face palmed as Hal muttered, ''Like the restaurant ?'', A batarang promptly left a cut on his cheek as it flew past him.

''Spoiler, not B's child, kinda was Robin for a bit.'' She slightly curtseyed with her cape, a wide sunshine like grin on her face.

''Bluebird, also not B's child, though he keeps trying.'', She laughs out loud and Spoiler high fives her.

''Bluebird's Brother, Oracle-in-training, not B's child.'' He gave a sheepish smile and also gave his sister and Spoiler a high five, although much more timidly.

''Oracle, also not a child of B.'', She swiped her red hair back over her shoulder dramatically and smiled smugly. She too was promptly High-fived.

''I'm Gotham's Day time hero, I go by The Signal.'', The teen gave the JL a very warm and friendly smile.

Robin was last, he donned a complacent smile, he puffed up proudly and then spoke, ''I am the current Robin and-''

He was cut off as the others of the Batfamily sing songed his words for him ''The blood son!'' He looked absolutely pissed and grumbled a few curses in a language that Wally did not understand. The rest of the group were thoroughly amused by his reaction.

Catwoman had moved to Batman's side and had taken his arm and leaned in close. No one had noticed, too enthralled by the young vigilantes. She opted to not introduce herself or explain her relationship with the bat. No one dared to ask either.

The last one to introduce himself was the butler. ''I have been given the moniker Agent-A. It is a pleasure to finally make the acquaintance of Batman's friends.'' He bowed slightly towards the JL.

Hal was of course the first to speak, ''Spooky has children. children. Plural.'' He sounded absolutely bewildered and as if his world had just ended.

''You think of us as your friends ?'' Asked a flabbergasted Barry.

''hnn.'' Was all the big broody bat answered but it was enough to almost bring a tear to some JL members eyes.

This was a big step and they all knew it. Batman had opened the extra, fortified door to his heart ever so slightly. He trusted them enough to tell him about his family.

Everyone felt a little warm inside as they left the Batcave after chatting a bit with the Batfamily, they shared some stories and answered some questions.

One after the other the Zeta called out their designation as they left the cave. Wally was the last, unwilling to leave just yet. Nightwing stood next to him as he typed in his code. Hesitating before he left, he was very happy as Nightwing grasped his hand in his hands and pulled it up to his lips to give it a gentle kiss. He smiled at Wally and said, ''See you around handsome.'' Then he let go of Wally's hand and Wally found himself in his city next to his uncle.

He felt something in his hand. It was a piece of paper with a number on it and a 'call me handsome ;)' written underneath it. Wally's brain promptly shut down and had to reboot. Batcat was the best thing that could've ever happen to him. He was eternally grateful for that alien.

Little extra “CH2”

[buckysouvenir]

between the lines (chapter 6)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader. warnings: none. word count: 1.544 words.

reblogs, likes and comments are always encouraged and highly appreciated! thank you ♡

bucky barnes masterlist⠀ |⠀ series masterlist⠀ |⠀ last chapter⠀ |⠀ next chapter

Bucky paced in his apartment, eyes scanning his wardrobe with a sense of growing panic. His fingers hovered over his shirts, but nothing seemed right. Should he go casual? Was a button-down too much? He scratched the back of his neck, muttering under his breath.

“What do I even wear to a coffee date?” he muttered to no one in particular, though his only audience was the empty space around him. It was silly, he knew it, but the nerves in his stomach twisted, making it feel like a big deal.

He pulled out a simple black shirt and tossed it onto the bed, then ran his hand through his long hair. He was about to leave when his phone buzzed.

It was a message from Natasha: “You good? Don't overthink it. You're not going to a warzone.”

Bucky smirked. Easy for her to say.

He quickly typed back, "Yeah. Totally. Just, you know, figuring out what to wear."

“You're overcomplicating this.”

He sighed, knowing she was right. He took a deep breath, grabbed the shirt, and slipped it on.

Meanwhile, Y/N stood in front of her closet, looking at her selection of clothes as if they had turned into an alien species. She hadn’t been on a date in a while, and while she wasn’t sure if this was a date-date or just a casual hangout, she still wanted to look nice without going overboard.

Her phone buzzed on the bed. She glanced at it.

Daisy: "Are you nervous about the coffee thing? Because I think you’re overthinking it. It’s just coffee. Just...be yourself."

Y/N let out a small laugh at Daisy’s bluntness. “Not nervous at all,” she replied, but the truth was, she was starting to second-guess herself.

She picked out a simple dress, then stared at herself in the mirror for a moment. She could do this. No need to overthink it, right? She wasn’t looking for anything big, but she couldn’t deny that she was curious about Bucky. He had an intensity about him that was hard to ignore, and there was something in the way he looked at her that made her feel... well, noticed.

Bucky was pacing again as he neared the café. He had arrived early, unsure of what to do with the extra time. He glanced at his watch and cursed under his breath. She was supposed to be here any minute, but now that he was standing here, the nerves hit him all over again. What if this was a huge mistake? What if she wasn’t interested at all?

He spotted the door to the café swing open and looked up, his heart leaping at the sight of Y/N walking through the door.

Her hair was down today, and it caught the light just right, making her look like she had stepped out of a dream. She glanced around the room and locked eyes with him, her face breaking into a soft smile.

“Hey!” she greeted, walking up to the table.

“Hey!” he replied, forcing his feet to move as he stood up to pull out the chair for her. He winced internally. That was smooth. Real smooth.

She smiled as she sat down, taking in the cozy atmosphere of the café. “I like this place.”

Bucky nodded, trying to ignore the nervous tension in his chest. “Yeah, I thought it’d be a good spot.”

Y/N smiled, but it was a little unsure. She wasn’t used to these kinds of situations either. “So, uh, how’s training been? You seem to be spending a lot of time in the gym lately.”

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, feeling his nerves climb again. “Yeah, well, I need to keep busy. It helps clear my mind.” He paused, then added, “I’m not used to... all this. Being around people all the time, I mean. I have to keep busy.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, surprised by his admission. “What do you mean?”

Bucky shifted in his seat, suddenly feeling a little exposed. “I mean... being around people again. It’s not easy for me. Getting back to normal life... it’s been a lot.” He glanced at her, unsure of how much to share. But there was something in her gaze—something open—that made him want to.

She nodded softly. “I get it,” she said quietly. “I mean, I don’t know what it’s like to go through what you’ve been through, but... I get how overwhelming it can be, you know?”

Bucky’s eyes softened, a little surprised by her understanding. He had expected a casual chat, but there was something deeper in her tone that felt reassuring.

They sat in silence for a moment, and Bucky realized how comfortable the silence felt between them. It wasn’t awkward, just... natural. He smiled, easing into the moment.

Bucky leaned back in his chair, sipping his black coffee as he listened to Y/N talk about an embarrassing office mishap involving Daisy, a rogue stapler, and an unfortunately timed sneeze. Her laughter was contagious, her eyes sparkling as she told the story.

“So then Daisy just stands there, holding the stapler like it’s a weapon, and Ward walks in and gives her this look—you know, the ‘What the hell is happening here?’ look. I thought I was going to die laughing,” Y/N finished, her hand covering her mouth as she giggled.

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “Sounds like a war zone over there. You’re lucky no one filed an incident report.”

“Don’t joke,” Y/N said, leaning closer with a grin. “Ward almost did. He’s weirdly by-the-book sometimes. Fitz and Jemma had to bribe him to drop it.”

Bucky smirked, his gaze softening as he watched her. “You’ve got a fun crew. Makes me wonder what it’d be like to have a desk job for once.”

“Oh, please,” Y/N teased, nudging his arm. “You’d last two minutes. Can you even imagine you, James Buchanan Barnes, typing out emails all day?”

He leaned forward, feigning seriousness. “I’d be great at it. My subject lines would be legendary.”

Y/N burst out laughing, nearly spilling her coffee. “Oh, really? What would you write?”

Bucky pretended to think. “Subject: URGENT. Open immediately or face consequences.” He grinned as she dissolved into laughter again.

“Okay, okay,” she said between giggles, Y/N clutched her stomach, trying to regain composure. “You’re ridiculous.”

Later, as the conversation flowed, Bucky found himself opening up more than he had expected. They had been discussing desserts—specifically Y/N’s undeniable sweet tooth.

“I’m telling you,” Y/N insisted, pointing her spoon at him, “nothing beats a warm chocolate chip cookie straight out of the oven.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” Bucky said, crossing his arms. “Apple pie. Classic, unbeatable.”

“Apple pie is great,” Y/N conceded, “but cookies are more versatile. You can dip them in milk, make ice cream sandwiches, crumble them on top of brownies—”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Crumbled cookies on top of brownies? My God woman, what has the human race archived in so little time?”

Y/N laughed so hard she had to set her coffee cup down.

They fell into a comfortable rhythm, trading stories and teasing each other. At one point, Bucky found himself reminiscing about his pre-war life.

“You know, Steve and I used to go to this diner in Brooklyn,” he said, his tone softening. “They had these massive sundaes—three scoops, whipped cream, cherries, the whole deal. Steve could never finish his, so I’d end up eating most of it. That guy had the appetite of a bird.”

Y/N smiled, resting her chin in her hand. “Sounds like you two had a lot of fun.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, his gaze distant for a moment before he refocused on her. “He always tried to act tough, but get a milkshake in front of him, and he’d turn into a kid.”

Y/N laughed softly. “I can totally see that. Did you have a go-to order?”

Bucky grinned. “Double chocolate malt. Every time.”

“Double chocolate, huh?” Y/N teased. “So you do have a sweet tooth.”

“Hey,” Bucky said, holding up his hands, “I never said I didn’t like sweets. I just know how to pace myself.”

Y/N smirked. “We’ll see about that.”

As the afternoon stretched on, the two of them lost track of time. They debated movies, swapped more embarrassing stories, and even made plans to try the desserts at a bakery Y/N insisted was the best in town.

When they finally stepped out of the café, the sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm golden light across the street.

Bucky glanced over at Y/N as they walked side by side.

“You were right. That place was good.”

“Told you,” she said, her tone smug.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, what’s next on the ‘Y/N Must-Prove-Me-Wrong’ list?”

Y/N grinned. “Oh, you’ll find out soon enough.”

For the first time in a long time, Bucky felt light—like the weight he carried wasn’t quite so heavy anymore. And as they parted ways when they reached the S.H.I.E.L.D base they both lived in, he found himself already looking forward to their next thing.

#taglist: @cjand10 @maryssong23 @mrsnikstan