#lately i've been a little embarrassed about it so it's really nice to hear

[somnimagus]

Your art has so much beautiful meaning to it. I love it.

oh thank you, that makes me so happy to hear!

[xoheewon]

first time

heeseung x virgin f!reader genre: smut, fluff warnings: cursing, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, fellatio, fingering wc: 2.2k

Being a virgin in college has never been an issue for you. You don't feel embarrassed or ashamed, but you do feel left out.

All your friends constantly talk about their hookups and how amazing sex is.

At first, you figured it couldn't be that great, but as time continued you couldn't help but feel like you were missing out on something good.

“Don't feel left out Y/N, sex isn't always great,” Giselle says, putting her hand on your shoulder.

You and the girls were in your room, studying together.

“But you guys always talk about how great it is!”

“Well, it can be, with a person who knows what they're doing. We've all had our dud hookups with a guy who didn't know jack,” Karina adds. 

Winter butt's in, nodding her head, “I once had sex with this guy who was so quick to cum, I hadn't even taken my panties off yet. Then when he actually got his dick in me, he finished and didn't even get me off, I had to fake it.”

“Well how do you know if a guy knows what to do?” You ask, looking at Ningning who clears her throat. 

“You can't really tell just by looking at them, it usually comes down to how they act in the bedroom. If they worry about your pleasure as much as your own, I'd say they're pretty alright,” she says.

The girls all nod, agreeing. Karina pats your knee, “When the time comes and you feel like you're ready, the right person will be there.”

After they left, you thought about their words and they're right. When it's the right time and the right person, you'll be ready. You decide to shower and put pajamas on as it gets later.

Afterwards, you can hear the doorknob of the front door opening, your roommate must be home.

Heeseung is a nice guy. He's a year older, a senior who had been looking for a roommate to replace his old one. You, at the time, had been looking to move out of your parents house. 

You had a mutual friend, Sunghoon, who introduced you and within a week you had moved in. 

It's been a year now and living with Heeseung has been great. 

He's sweet, clean and respectful.

Unfortunately, he's also very hot.

You can't lie and say you haven't had a wet dream or two about him. 

Waking up with arousal pooling in your underwear is not the most comfortable feeling.

He comes in as you're sitting on the couch, greeting you cheerfully, “Hey Y/N!”

“Hi! It's late, what have you been up to?”

“I was just with the hottest girl, I was in heaven.”

“Oh, good for you,” you say, your smile faltering. 

“What about you, what did you do?”

You wave your hand, “The girls just came over to study.”

He nods, “I'm gonna go shower, you wanna watch a movie? Order dinner?”

You nod, watching as he retreats to the bathroom.

You sigh as the door closes.

Heeseung has probably had sex with a number of girls. He wouldn't want someone like you who's never done anything sexual.

15 minutes pass and you've been scrolling on the phone when the bathroom door opens again.

Heeseung comes out but he's not clothed.

His towel hangs around his hips, dangerously low.

You can't help the heat rising to your cheeks.

“What do you want for dinner? I'll order on my phone now,” you say, looking back down at your phone quickly.

His footsteps approach you as he hums, “You wanna get chinese?”

You see his feet in front of you as you look up.

He's right in front of you, water dripping on his body. His lean but toned chest glistens in the light of the living room.

“Or,” his hand comes up to cup your chin, “I could give you something else for dinner.”

“What are you implying?” You ask, stopping yourself from nuzzling into his hand.

“Come on, you know what I'm talking about. I've heard your pretty little whimpers and moans in your sleep when you're dreaming about me, waking up with your underwear soaked.”

You gulp, “I'm sorry.”

“What are you sorry for,” he says, “If anything I should be honored to have a pretty girl dream about me.”

You look down but he raises your chin back up. “Heeseung, you don't want anything to do with me. The farthest I've ever gone with a guy was making out. I can’t offer you anything.”

He smiles, “That's even better, means I get to show you what real pleasure feels like. Do you want that?”

Maybe this is your right person and right time.

You nod, “Can I..?” You trail off, gesturing to his towel.

He undoes the towel and his cock springs up.

His tip is red and you can't help how your mouth begins to salivate. 

“You wanna suck my cock, pretty girl?”

You nod your head and he chuckles.

He takes his hand and places it in front of your mouth, “Spit.”

You gather all the spit in your mouth before depositing it in his hand.

He begins to lather his cock, and you feel yourself begin to salivate even more.

“Hold it with your hand like this,” he says, guiding your hand to hold him.

He's warm in your hand and he guides you up and down his cock. 

“Now, start with the tip.”

You lay your tongue flat against the tip, licking around it albeit apprehensively.

Now, you may have never done this before but you've done your fair share of research.

You dip your tongue into his slit before swirling it around, collecting his pre-cum.

Heeseung groans from above you, bringing a hang up to wrap it in your hair.

You pull away for a moment before placing a delicate kiss on the tip which makes him chuckle.

“Start putting some of the length in your mouth, don't rush.”

You do as he says, using your tongue to lick the underside of his cock.

Once you become comfortable, you take more of him into your mouth, placing your hand where you can't take him.

“Now start bobbing your head and hollow your cheeks, that's all there is to it, pretty girl.”

You start sucking him off eagerly, whining as you feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

Heeseung moans from above you, “That's it, you're a natural.”

You go at him until your jaw begins to hurt and by then, Heeseung is tightening his grip on your hair. 

“I'm gonna cum, where do you want it?”

You pull off his cock with a pop, lolling your tongue out and continuing to jerk him off.

He smiles, “You're driving me crazy, pretty girl.”

Then, he's coming in your mouth, it's almost too much.

You swallow, not minding the taste. If anything you're proud that you made him cum.

He takes over jerking his cock to get himself hard again. 

“Can I do something?” He asks, and you nod.

“Lay back on the couch,” he says, “Gonna make you feel good.”

You do as you're told, getting comfortable. 

Heeseung gets on the couch facing you, trailing his fingers up your legs.

His hands reach your pajama top, “Can I take this off?” 

You nod, throwing your arms above your head as he begins to slide it off.

Your bare tits present themselves to him and his hands immediately come up to grope them.

His head dips, mouth coming to suck on your left nipple. 

You moan in pleasure, your hands coming to run themselves through his hair.

He twirls your other nipple between his fingers before switching.

“Such perfect tits, can't believe you've been hiding these from me.”

His mouth drops lower, kissing his way down your stomach before his lips reach the waistband of your shorts.

He looks up at you for permission and you give it to him.

Heeseung pulls your shorts and panties down, gazing at your dripping cunt.

“Such a pretty pussy, I never thought I'd get to see it.”

You blush, hands coming up to cover your face.

“Don't hide from me, I wanna see your beautiful face,” he says, pulling them away.

He lowers his face parallel to your cunt, blowing hot air on it, making you shiver.

“Heeseung-” You gasp as his tongue makes contact with your folds. 

He starts eating you out like a starved man.

His tongue finds you clit, massaging the nub, sucking on it.

Your back arches, your hands finding his hair once again.

“Oh my god, Heeseung!”

Finding your hole, he tenses his tongue, fucking it inside.

You've never felt pleasure like this.

Sure, you've masturbated, but this is a whole new world.

Heeseung switching between tongue fucking you and sucking your clit.

He brings a long, slender finger to your hole, letting your arousal coat it before slipping it inside. After a few minutes, he adds another finger, using them to open you up along with his tongue.

You can feel warmth pooling in your stomach, you know you're close.

“I'm gonna cum, Seungie,” you whine, bucking your hips up against his face.

“Cum for me,” he says, sighing as your release coats his tongue, face and fingers.

The lewd slurping sounds make your face hot as he inhales everything you give him.

As he pulls away, the lower part of his face is wet with your release and he doesn't hesitate to collect it on his fingers, sucking them into his mouth.

“You taste amazing, I could stay in that pussy for hours.”

“I've never felt anything like that before,” you say, breathing heavily.

“Do you wanna stop here? We don't have to continue if you're not ready,” he says, caressing your face.

You shake your head, “Want your cock, Seungie.”

He groans at your words, “Fuck, you're driving me crazy.”

You giggle, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer.

He takes his cock into his hand, rubbing it up and down your folds, making you whine as his tip continuously hits your puffy clit.

He saturates himself with your juices, before positioning himself at your entrance.

You nod at him and he slowly begins to enter you.

Inch by inch you feel the stretch, wincing slightly.

Once he bottoms out, he gives you time to adjust.

You take in the full feeling in your belly, like he's all the way inside your stomach.

You buck your hips, “Move, please.”

He starts off slow, pulling all the way out before pushing back in. He rolls his hips in a way that makes it feel like there's even more cock to take.

After he sees you're comfortable, he picks up the pace to a relentless thrust.

His balls hit your ass, the lewd slapping sound making you even more wet.

“Fuck, you're taking me so well pretty.”

You whine, nodding, “Love your cock, Seungie.”

His pace turns animalistic, fucking you into the couch as you moan louder and louder.

“Fuck, Heeseung!”

He lifts one of your legs, bringing it over his shoulder to change the angle and you arch as he hits a new spot inside you.

“Oh my god!” You scream, jaw dropping as he groans above you.

“Fuck, I love this pussy. Never want another one after this,” he says, kissing your thigh beside his head.

“I'm gonna cum again, Seungie please.” You don't even know what you're begging for. 

“Me too baby, fuck where do you want me to cum?”

“Inside,” you plead, “Want it in me.”

Heeseung curses up a storm as you clench around him, milking his cock as he finally cums, with you following right after.

His warm cum fills you up, making your cunt and belly feel full. 

He releases your leg, putting it down as he slowly pulls out.

Heeseung watches his cum drip out of you, before leaning down to kiss you.

You taste yourself on him as he slides his tongue inside your mouth.

The kiss is sweet, slow.

As he pulls away, he leaves kisses all over your face, making you giggle.

“Heeseung, that was amazing. Thank you.”

He smiles, “I was honored to be your first, pretty girl, and hopefully your last?” 

“Do you like me, Lee Heeseung?” You taunt him with a wide smile on your face.

“Maybe I do. Would you be mine if I asked you?”

You nod, “I'd love nothing more.”

After resting for a few minutes, Heeseung gets off the couch, putting his arm under your things while the other finds your shoulders, lifting you up bridal style.

He brings you to the bathroom, getting a warm rag to clean you both up.

“You wanna cuddle? My room or yours?” He asks, holding your face in his hands, using his thumbs to caress your cheeks.

“Yours,” you reply, “I like your room.”

He lifts you again, bringing you to his room, putting one of his shirts on you and bringing you to his bed.

Your head rests on his chest as his arms come to wrap around you. 

“I'd like to take you out on a date tomorrow, I meant what I said about making you mine,” Heeseung whispers into your ear.

“I'd like that,” you respond, lifting your head to give him a kiss on the lips.

note: this is my second time writing smut, my apologies if it's ass 😭 don't hesitate to give constructive criticism! also pls ignore any typos/grammar mistakes and the formatting im too lazy to fix it.

[nickfowlerrr]

please

GIF by virgo-opinions

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: bit of angst, bit of fluff. sweet ending per usual.

words: 1179

notes: "iM gOnnA WrItE a fiVe SenTenCE dRaBblE". i mean. we all should have seen this coming. thank you in advance for reading, i hope you enjoy this! as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated. let me know what you think!

“Your bed is so much comfier than mine, can I sleep here tonight?”

It’s quiet for a long moment as you make yourself even cozier in Bucky’s bed, nuzzling into the pillow that smells just like him. It is comfier here. And you feel safe as sleep starts to nip at you. It's late, the lights are already out from when Bucky started the movie still playing on the screen, and you know you are both tired - that's why you're already in lounging clothes, having decided to stay in at his place tonight instead of going out to dinner like you'd originally planned. It'd been a long week, as if the mission hadn't been rough enough, the paperwork that's followed has been hell to get through.

All you wanted was a nice night with your boyfriend, and now that you're this comfortable and content, the last thing you want is to move, the leave and have this peace be over as you walk back over to your place. Your bed is a lot colder, and in truth what makes his so comfy is simply his presence.

Even when he's quiet, it's...

Wait, he's still quiet.

You turn your head to look at him as he sits at the foot of his bed. He looks anxious and you suddenly feel your stomach twist. What were you thinking?

You've talking about this before, the night after you first slept together. You'd fallen asleep in his arms and woke up feeling incredible, only to have your heart drop to your stomach when you realized you were alone and Bucky was nowhere to be found... Until you found him on your couch, dark circles under his eyes from no sleep and an apology falling from his lips the second he saw you, sitting up to explain. Nightmares, terrors, he didn't want to get into but wanted to explain why he'd left you alone. He didn't want to risk waking you up to that. You understood, and you'd broached the subject of staying the night a few times since then just to see where he was at, but never pushed. You trusted he'd let you know when he felt ready for it.

But now look at you, pushing without even thinking.

You sit up, a little too suddenly, and Bucky’s head whips to you. The anxiety in his eyes shifts to fear as he meets your embarrassed gaze.

You open your mouth to take it back, to apologize, but he beats you to speaking.

“No, no, no,” he rushes, unthinkingly urging you back down on the mattress as he leans over you; your eyes widen and you let him touch you. It’s a rushed movement, but gentle all the same as he eases you to lay back.

His face is inches away from yours and for a second you forget everything but the gleaming blue of his eyes and the soft plumpness of his lips.

“Stay,” he breathes, “I want you to stay.”

You swallow thickly, finding your throat dry. “Are you sure? I didn’t mean to-“

“I’m sure. I've wanted to ask you for a while, I just… I’m not the most peaceful sleeper,” he says shamefully. "I really don't want to scare you away."

It physically hurts to hear his unease. You want so badly to take his worry away, to show him he has nothing to be scared or ashamed of.

“Nothing you do could ever scare me away."

You can tell just by looking at him that he doesn't believe it, and you don't know how to make him.

You reach a hand to move the strand of hair that's fallen from behind his ear back out of his face before you hold his cheek lightly. You lean up as he leans down and brush your lips against his before you really kiss him, carefully - soft and slow.

"You're always there for me," you murmur, "I wanna be here for you, too." You card your hand though his hair as he lets his forehead fall against yours, his eyes closed in contentment at the feeling before he sighs and sits back.

You watch him for a moment, you can still sense his trepidation...

"You can say no, Bucky," you tell him gently.

He looks at you again, his brows furrowed ever so slighty and a small pout on his lips. "I don't wanna say no. I want you to stay and I want... I want to be normal for you."

Your eyes burn and your throat gets tight as you watch his bright blue eyes blink furiously as he looks away from you again. You sit up all the way and reach for him, turning his head so he's looking you in your eyes.

"Don't do that," you say, doing your best to keep your voice from wavering. "There is no such thing as normal, Bucky. And even if there was, I wouldn't want it. I mean who cares about normal anyway?"

He looks pained as he holds your hand in hand and it's quiet again for a beat.

"I know you don't wanna say no, but you won't be hurting me if you need to."

He doesn't look up from your hand in his, only squeezes it in response.

You smile softly, taking the gesture as his admission that he isn't ready yet, and move to get up off the bed again, only to be stopped by Bucky once more.

"You wanna stay?"

"Only if you want me to," you murmur.

He looks at you, really looks, like he's searching for some sign, something in your eyes that'll give away that you want an escape, that you really want to go. He finds nothing, because it's the last thing you'd ever want.

"Will you lay down with me?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, you almost couldn't hear him over the movie still playing on his television in the background.

"Of course," you say simply as you once again allow him to lay you back down. He joins you this time, slowly laying himself down next to you. When you get comfortable again, he turns into you, and ever so slowly, moves to rest his head on your chest as he lays on his side, hugging himself to you.

It's delicate. One of those moments you know you'll look back on over and over, one you'll always treasure, seeing him feel safe enough with you to be this vulnerable, this soft.

The silence is anything but uncomfortable as you run the fingers of one hand through his hair, massaging away his tension as he relaxes further into you.

"Can I tell you something?" his voice sounds deeper already as he speaks.

"Anything."

"Lately, the only time I can ever manage to fall asleep, is when I picture you here with me." His breathing is getting deeper as he nuzzles into you and you hold him tighter as you push down your rising wave of emotions at his confession.

"I want you to stay..." he murmurs. "Please stay."

[ladylannisterxo]

... the one where spence takes an interest

Pairings; Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Words; 0.6k

Warnings; one use of Y/N but this was written back before I stopped using it lol but other than that, none, just fluff!

Summary; {requested} "Not to pester you, I had this thought and wanted to share is all, but could you imagine talking to Spencer about something you're really excited about (like a movie/tv show/game or something) and the next day he starts talking to you in length about it, and it turns out he went home that night and read/watched everything he could on the subject."

A/N; goodness, I wrote this years ago on another blog and since I've been rewatching Criminal Minds, I figured I'd go ahead and post it again (cause why not?)... the one and only thing I ever wrote for Dr. Spencer Reid ajdhsakdshak

{ masterlist }

You didn't plan this. Really, you didn't. But you know how it goes when you start binging a new tv series: just one more episode... and then before you know it, it's 2:00am.

Now you're sitting in the bullpen. It's 8:00am and you're constantly rubbing at your tired eyes and chugging coffee like your life depends on it.

And Spencer is wearing a curious expression, already extrapolating possibilities as to what could have kept you awake last night.

But he doesn't mention it. Not when the team is discussing the new case, not even on the jet en route to your destination. He waits until it's just you and him, paired off to go talk to the medical examiner about the latest victim.

"Are you okay?"

"Hmm? Oh yeah, just a little tired."

He smiles warmly, offering you an amused glance before fixing his eyes back on the road. "I gathered. What kept you up?"

"You know, I just..."

But then you realize you don't want to tell him, not really. To you, staying up super late to watch a tv show seems embarrassing when compared to how he most likely spent his night.

You imagine that he read around six books, most of which were probably in a language you didn't understand. Or maybe he called his mom to check in with her. Or maybe he had nightmares himself and so he thinks that's exactly what happened with you...

Any scenario you think of infinitely sounds better than oh, you know, I just stayed up super late watching some trashy guilty pleasure tv show because I have no self control.

"Nothing really," you settle on, "it's dumb."

"Try me."

So you cave, mostly because you're too tired to fight. He listens intently as you tell him about the new show you found, how it's completely ridiculous but it allows you to step out of your life for a bit and relax.

He doesn't say much, just nods along as you talk and before you know it, you've arrived at your destination and it's back to work.

Spencer actually doesn't mention your conversation again for the remainder of the case and finally, the unsub is in custody and the team is back home to enjoy a nice, long weekend.

You don't see or hear from Spencer during this time but first thing Monday morning, he's greeting you as you step off the elevator with a cup of coffee and a bright smile.

... and then he tells you he spent the weekend watching the first season of the show you mentioned and to his surprise, he really enjoyed it.

To say you're confused is an understatement but you listen as he discusses every character and what he thinks of the current story arc.

"Spencer," you laugh, resting your hand on his arm and halting his speech. "Not that I'm not thrilled to talk about this but I really wasn't expecting you to go home and watch an entire season of a show just because I mentioned it."

He smiles sheepishly, eyes lingering on where your hand still rests on his arm.

"You were really excited about it though."

"And?"

"And it seemed important to you... so it's important to me."

A smile pulls itself across your face and you open your mouth to respond when you're both interrupted by Garcia letting you know there's another case.

"Hold that thought," you inquire.

"It's impossible for me to forget it."

And just like that, you're discussing trashy tv with Dr. Spencer Reid during any downtime that you're granted. You gush about your favorite character and he theorizes future story arcs while simultaneously pointing out behavioral inaccuracies.

"People do not speak like that in that kind of situation, Y/N."

"It's tv, Spence, it's supposed to be unrealistic. That's what makes it fun."

+ Bonus: if it's a series that is currently airing, you both come into the office the next morning and excitedly discuss every single thing that happened and then theorize on what could possibly happen next.

[ckret2]

Chapter 59 of human Bill Cipher possibly not being the Mystery Shack's prisoner because he got executed two chapters ago:

Everything you haven't wondered about how Bill survived his execution.

7:27 a.m.

Mabel didn't know why, but figuring out when to ask Mrs. Grendinator to pull over had felt as stressful as trying to throw a ping pong ball into a passing car's open fuel door to land in the little fuel pipe. All she had to do was ask to pull over after they'd passed everything but the last truck stop, but before it was too late for Mrs. Grendinator to make the turn into the Triple Digit parking lot. That was a large window. It wasn't easy to miss. Somehow Mabel still dreaded that she'd speak up too late and Mrs. Grendinator would say she'd have to wait for the next rest stop—by which point Bill would have splatted like a bug against the weirdness barrier while everyone else passed safely through.

But she'd managed to blurt out "I forgot to use the bathroom at home. Can we pull over?"; they'd stopped at the Triple Digit Truck Stop; and Mabel made it inside before her friends could catch her.

She locked the unisex restroom door, set her backpack on the ground, opened it up, and sighed with relief when she saw Bill sitting on her sweater. She carefully pulled him out, set him on the floor, and pointed the height-altering flashlight at him.

For a moment after returning to his true size, he remained seated on the floor, legs bent, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. Worriedly, Mabel asked, "You okay?"

"Think I learned what motion sickness is," Bill groaned. "Just—gimme a sec."

"Aww, I'm sorry." Mabel surreptitiously checked in her backpack to make sure Bill hadn't been sick on her sweater. (It was a cool one. It had kissing parrots.)

After a few deep breaths, Bill lifted his head enough to look at Mabel. The first thing he said was, "'Cool big brother-slash-sister,' huh?" He gave her a queasy, but cheeky, grin.

"Shut uuup you weren't supposed to hear that!" She'd just about died with embarrassment when Candy had repeated that where she knew Bill could hear.

"I'm flattered." Bill uncurled himself from his nauseous half-fetal position; and then, gripping onto the sink for support, got back to his feet. "Being smaller again was nice, but I'm never traveling like that again."

"You're such a whiner."

"Yeah, yeah. I have a lot to whine about. I'm dead and about to be executed. Talk about... lose your cake and... not-eat it, too."

Mabel laughed. Bill mussed her hair, grinning, and said, "Hey, you've got no room to laugh, you're the one with the not-setting-houses-on-fire bit."

"Arrrgh, don't remind me!" She pushed Bill to the side so she could use the mirror to straighten out her hair again.

"You did pretty well, though! I'd say that was some of the best acting I've ever seen out of you."

"You too! They definitely bought it," Mabel said. "Even Grunkle Stan was getting worried."

"Especially back in the kitchen, wow! That was really convincing." He paused. "Really, really convincing."

Something heavy hung in the air. Mabel focused on her hair in the mirror.

Bill said, "That bit in the kitchen about me 'depending' on you." He exaggerated the air quotes around the word, distancing himself from the concept. "It wasn't on our list."

"Yeah. It just kinda... seemed right. Improv." Mabel waved unenthusiastic jazz hands.

"It bothers you."

Mabel winced. "I mean... I'm not actually mad at you. But. I want to help, but I don't know what to do for..." She gestured at Bill. "The whole being dead on an alien planet issue."

"Believe it or not, the hoodie helps," Bill said. "Listening helps." But he couldn't meet her gaze; he was fiddling with his friendship bracelet instead. He had to know how heavy even just listening to him could be.

"I'm glad, but... I just... wish you had more friends you could talk to."

Bill nodded morosely. "So do I." It wasn't like he'd chosen to only have one friend, was it? Prisoners didn't get to make those kinds of decisions.

Mabel asked, "Do you really think I think you're just a summer fix-it project?"

"I... pfff... come on, I watched you spend all last summer handing out makeovers and dating advice. You've already done my makeup, taken me clothes shopping, and tried to pump me for info on what kinds of freaks I'm into."

(Mabel quietly filed away the fact that Bill referred to "freaks" as his preferred romantic targets.)

"That's how your summer was going to end," Bill said. "You tame the monster, go home triumphant, and don't worry about it anymore. Like how you patched up Broken Heart's love life and left him to sort out the consequences."

"No!" Mabel huffed, "I mean—maybe a little at the beginning, but... you're really my friend now, I'd hate it if I never saw you again. I don't give friendship bracelets to just anybody!"

Bill kind of thought she did; but he wasn't about to argue. "Well, I've only given one person a bracelet, and I meant it." (Even more now than when he'd originally made it.) "You're never getting rid of me now, star girl. You're stuck with me forever!"

Coming out of Bill Cipher, the promise should have filled her with dread. A month ago it would have filled her with dread. But Mabel just found it comforting. "Good."

(And Ford hadn't felt any dread when he'd sworn "until the end of time," either.)

Bill took off his backpack and rummaged through it. "Now let me make sure I can keep that promise."

He took out a map of the mountains and forest around Gravity Falls and spread it out on the floor for them to kneel in front of. "You know about the spaceship buried under town? When its ring cut through the mountain, a few chunks of the ship dislodged and were buried in one of the mountains. No human has ever found them before, not even your great uncle. That's where I'll hide."

"Are the chunks big enough to hide in?"

"Sure! There's one that'd serve as a decent studio apartment. Well—the cheapest studio apartment in Manhattan, maybe. But, hey, I don't have much furniture."

On the map, he showed Mabel a route to reach the base of the cliff, tracing it with his finger. She couldn't afford to take a map with the route marked; if the adults discovered Bill's escape and confiscated Mabel's possessions, a marked map would lead them straight to him. She'd just have to do her best to memorize the route he described. "When and if the coast is clear, you can come find me there."

"How do I get up the cliff?"

"Don't worry about that. You make it that far, I'll take care of the rest."

And that was all they could afford to discuss. Mabel couldn't hide in here for long. As Bill refolded the map (and Mabel was awed to learn he was the kind of person who could refold maps correctly on the first try), and he packed the map and the height-altering flashlight in his backpack, they each tried separately to figure out how to get around to saying goodbye.

"I uh... I know you're sticking your neck out for me, kid." (Bill wasn't used to this, wasn't used to people who didn't help him due to fear or duty or lies, wasn't used to people who still wanted to help him after they knew what he was really like.) "So, thanks—"

Mabel flung her arms around him. Her voice thick, she said, "I think your manners are getting better."

"Shut up, I've always known how to say thanks." It was gratitude that was new.

"Be safe out there," Mabel said. "Don't die, or else. Remember to eat. And drink water! And do laundry sometimes."

"All right, all right. You'll find me in better health than you left me. All the sunshine and fresh air this body can take."

"I'll miss you."

Keep it together, Cipher. He swallowed hard. "Have you ever heard the song 'We'll Meet Again'?"

"Uh-uh?"

"Old war song. Look it up once you're in Portland, when you aren't busy having synthesizers pumped in your ears."

"Is it about... how we'll meet again?"

"Yes, smartypants. Look it up anyway," Bill said. "I'll miss you too."

Mabel washed her face, left the restroom, and shut the door behind her; and Bill waited in the dark while everyone left.

####

7:45 a.m.

A woman with two children opened the unisex restroom door, and gasped in shock when she saw a human silhouette lurking in the dark, one eye shining.

"Hey, thanks, lady! Couldn't get the door for some reason." He breezed past her. "Careful, it sticks from the inside."

He grabbed an empty backpack for sale, and loaded it up with supplies, food, and drinks. (The good stuff, not the weak cider he got in the Mystery Shack. He was making margaritas tonight.) He headed up to the cash register... veered to a currently-unmanned register, stole a handful of loose change out of a tip jar, and timed his exit so he walked out just as a man walked in and kindly held the door for him.

####

7:55 a.m.

It was a fair walk from Triple Digit back to the cliffs around Gravity Falls. When Bill was a safe distance into the woods, he unzipped his first backpack, retrieved his flattened top hat, and popped it out; and then continued on, behatted and using his umbrella like a cane.

Even with no sleep, even just a couple of days after the worst hiking trip in history, even tired and sore from an hour of frenzied dancing, even carrying two full backpacks with one strap slung over each shoulder, even with the sky gloomy and overcast—this was the best he'd felt since Weirdmageddon.

His steps were sure, his body was unchained, and the future had opened up for him again.

####

8:00 a.m.

Mabel kept glancing out the window, back in the direction of Gravity Falls, waiting and waiting to see the light of some kind of killer laser cut through the sky.

Maybe the Quantum Destabilizer's beam just wasn't visible from this far. Maybe they'd decided to wait to execute Bill. Maybe they hadn't wasted their shot because they'd already discovered Bill and Mabel's ruse. Maybe the "enchantment" Bill had written hadn't done its job.

But if they had discovered Bill was missing, they would've called Mabel immediately, trying to find out what she'd done and where he'd gone.

Her phone sat hard and heavy and silent in her pocket.

The butterflies in her stomach didn't stop fluttering until long after they reached Portland.

####

10:30 a.m.

Plus or minus a few trees, the rendezvous point at the base of the cliff was just how Bill had remembered last seeing it millennia ago. The Trilazzx Betan proximity sensor that had been embedded in the cliff face since the ship crash was still there and still sensing, even after millions of years and a layer of stone had closed around it. He could see it behind the face of the cliff; and it could see him.

He took out the multi-tool pocket knife Dipper had "donated" to Bill's supplies, flipped out the blade, and carved his face in a tree far enough from the rendezvous point to avoid notice by anyone who found this spot, but near enough it could see anyone who showed up. He made it as accurate as he could—hat, bow, limbs, eyelashes. That would unfortunately make it easier for humans to identify the face if anyone happened to walk by, but his ability to connect to his other eyes was still weak, he needed as much of a boost as he could get. He licked the bark, leaving his saliva to connect the eye on the tree to him.

And then he returned to the rendezvous point at the base of the cliff, and, beneath the watchful eye of the proximity sensor, began digging in the dirt with his hands.

Beneath the soil, fortunately not buried too deep, was a stone shaped like a small tombstone with several symbols carved into its surface that superficially resembled common runes. Bill brushed the dirt off of his leggings and rubbed it out of the carved lines in the stone. It was lucky that today was overcast; it would make this thing a lot easier to control.

Bill took out the flashlight, removed the height-altering crystal, turned it on, and aimed the beam at the topmost rune.

The runes began glowing an eerie green.

The ground shuddered; and then a patch of ground five feet in diameter lifted up into the air, carrying Bill with it, tearing the grass at the edge of the circle, propelled by a long-forgotten enchanted stone platform concealed in the clump of dirt.

He rose to the gouge that the spaceship had carved into the mountain; and then he moved his flashlight's beam to another rune. The platform smoothly shifted to moving sideways, gliding beneath the ancient overhang. When he turned off the flashlight, the stone stopped glowing and gently settled to the ground. Bill stepped off, fished a spare shirt out of his backpack, and pulled it over the rune-covered stone so it couldn't take off if the sun came out. There was a reason this buried stone was the only platform of its kind left in the area outside of the deep mountain caverns: leave one outside on a sunny day where the light can hit its runes, and next thing you know it's zoomed out over the Pacific and is quickly rising toward space.

He surveyed the area. Every once in a while humans climbed up here just for the challenge of it, delightful little explorers they were; but he doubted anyone had been up here in decades. He stood in front of what was, to all appearances, a completely nondescript patch of stony ground; and he said, in heavily accented but intelligible Trilazzx Betan, "Let me in, you hunk of junk. Activate emergency crash protocols."

A fragment of ship deep beneath the ground stirred awake, registered the command, analyzed itself and concluded from the fact that it wasn't in space and was separated from 99% of the rest of itself that it had indeed crashed, and activated emergency crash protocols. In acknowledgment of the dire situation, it deactivated its usual authorized personnel list—there was no sense in waiting for the captain to approve new orders if the captain might be dead—accepted the command given by the unknown being above it, and opened its hatch.

Millions of years of solid stone groaned and buckled in protest at being moved; but Trilazzx Betan engineering was strong enough for the framework of a portal capable of ripping a hole between dimensions without being ripped apart itself. The stone yielded first. A hatch swung up, revealing a tilted chamber descending into the cliff.

Bill strolled confidently down the walkway. "Cancel distress signal. Disable life support's air filtering." The fragment of a ship beeped a warning, and Bill responded, "I'm aware of this planet's high oxygen content. You worry about your health, I'll worry about mine. Disable air filtering." The ship beeped a confirmation. "Reconnect to all external proximity sensors in range and display on screens one, two, and three." This broken part of the ship had once handled communications. It had a whole wall of screens. He wondered whether he could jury rig this thing to pick up human satellite TV. Nah, probably not worth the effort.

He slung off his backpacks and started unpacking.

####

12:04 p.m.

It was time.

Dipper sat on the floor and put his head in his hands. He felt sick.

He was dead. In just a few seconds Ford would discover that Bill was gone—Dipper was sure he was gone, they hadn't heard a peep from the room, Mabel must've snuck him out or left him some escape route—and then Ford would know that someone had warned Bill and Mabel, and then Dipper was dead—

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah." Dipper waved Ford off. "Just... didn't get much sleep. Little dizzy." Ford would never trust him again. Stan would be furious. They'd both be furious.

"You can go downstairs if you..."

"No no, I'm fine, I..." Dipper took a deep breath and lifted his head. "I'll face it." Better to get it over with now than to hide downstairs and wait for it. 

Stan nodded. "Good man." He wouldn't be so proud of Dipper in a moment.

Ford nodded, stood, opened the door—and Dipper buried his face in his hands again.

####

12:06 p.m.

Ford could see Bill up in the loft, hood up and shoulders hunched, back to the room. Ford could shoot Bill in the back without him ever waking up.

He climbed into the loft. Bill lay curled up in a ball, a small as Ford had ever seen him.

But it only took a moment for Ford's eyes to adjust to the dark; and even in the dim light through the stained glass window, he could tell:

The shape in front of him wasn't human. Just lumpy clothes.

Ford whipped around, heart pounding, clutching the Quantum Destabilizer's carrying case against his chest, searching for the real Bill lurking somewhere in the shadows. No sign of him. Ford had already looked on the floor level. Was he gone? How?

He was too dumbfounded to be outraged. He walked up to the dummy to pull it apart—

And saw the paper, folded in quarters, floating in the air above it. Four symbols in a cipher were written atop the paper. Ford recognized them: it was the alien alphabet of an interdimensional pidgin used as a written lingua franca throughout the Nightmare Realm and its bordering regions; it was so widespread that Ford had learned the alphabet before he ever left Earth.

The four letters read, "F O R D".

Ford plucked the paper out of the air and unfolded it.

Stanford–

I'll cut to the chase. I need your help. I don't want to die.

I'm banking on the hope that, in spite of everything you've said and done, part of you also doesn't want me to die.

You have a choice. You can walk out there, tell them I escaped, rally an angry mob, and comb everything under the weirdness barrier for me. This town's not that big and I'll need to eat eventually. We both know I can't hide forever.

Or you can tell them you finished the job. No one looks for me. No one knows but you and me.

I don't have rewards or deals to offer. You already know what I bring to the table. If that hasn't persuaded you to side with me by now, it never will. I'm not bargaining. I'm begging.

I'm asking you, as my friend, to help me survive.

Please.

· –·-– -–

Of course.

How dare he.

Had Bill planned this all along? Was this why he'd insisted he wanted to be Ford's friend? Was this why he'd saved his life? Maybe the entire rescue had been staged—the rescue, the performance of fear over a harmless phenomenon, the mental breakdown, all of it. For all Ford knew, maybe the accursed Axolotl was in on the scheme! How clairvoyant was Bill? Had he seen this moment coming?

But if he'd seen this moment coming, wouldn't it have been easier to just let Ford, his executioner-to-be, die? Ford and Dipper both, so Dipper wouldn't figure out how to synthesize NowUSeeitNowUDontium? If he'd saved them in spite of that, didn't that make it a sincere gesture?

But implication was clear: I've been a friend to you, now be one to me. A life for a life. There was nothing sincere in that. It was pure self interest.

(For just a couple of days, Ford really had thought it was sincere.)

But if the only reason Bill had saved Ford was to save himself—then why had Bill endangered his own life in the process?

With every thought Ford's paranoia pendulumed.

He should get Stan. Call the cops, confess who they'd been harboring for the past month, tell them everything, get a manhunt going before Bill could make it any further away. Even if he couldn't leave the weirdness barrier, there were probably hundreds of hidden hidey-holes Bill could dig himself into that humans had never seen—unexplored hallways in Crash Site Omega, uncharted caverns behind Trembley Falls where Bill didn't even need light to see. They could drag him back into the light, tie him up, aim the Quantum Destabilizer straight at him...

But. In spite of himself, he could still see Mabel's drawing hopefully reassigning Bill the role of a superhero. He could still see the crumpled drawing in his pocket—"I BELIEVE IN YOU. YOU CAN CHANGE!" He could still see Dipper tentatively asking whether they might need Bill someday. He could still see Bill playing teacher in the living room. And for a moment, for just a moment, Bill had been so good. He could be so good.

Why couldn't you have been this person?

Why can't you be this person?

What if he could be better? What if he could be decent? What if he could be a friend?

Ford didn't believe Bill was any better today than he had been the day he died. But—at some point, something had slowly turned over in Ford's mind. He believed that Bill could change. Not would change, not is changing, but could. And if Ford started a manhunt, Bill would never be a threat again—but he'd also never be better.

There was a point where the doubt and hope built up to a critical mass—when they became enough, just enough, to stay the trigger finger. Because once Ford fired on Bill, that was it. All chances were gone forever. It was over. If Bill was alive they could always try again to kill him later; but if Bill was dead, they could never try again to better him.

And for the first time in thirty years, Ford wanted Bill to be better more than he wanted Bill to be dead.

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.

####

12:09 p.m.

Ten minutes ago, Bill had been in the process of emptying out his backpacks and finding nooks and cubbies amongst the alien communication workstations where he could tuck his supplies, when he'd glanced out the open hatch and noticed the beforeimage of the shot lighting up the sky.

He'd come out of his shelter to watch the moment approach; but he hadn't quite believed it until it was in the present and actually happening. The blue-white beam of the Quantum Destabilizer—its one and only shot—screamed off into the sky.

"Well, what do you know," he murmured, standing at the edge of the cliff, hands on his hips, staring out in wonder over the town. "I really didn't think you'd do it."

Ford had saved his life.

Bill crossed his arms tight and tried to convince himself he didn't wonder why.

####

12:10 p.m.

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.

"Grunkle Ford...?"

He forced himself to speak. "It's done."

"So... Bill is...?"

Ford suddenly realized: Dipper knew Bill wasn't in here. He must have warned Mabel, and Mabel had arranged for Bill to be alone in their room long enough to escape.

Which meant Dipper knew Bill was alive.

(Bill had written, "No one knows but you and me." Bill was covering for the kids.)

Ford turned to look him in the eyes. "Yes, he's dead."

Which meant Dipper knew what Ford had done—and knew Ford knew what he had done.

Neither one of them needed to say anything else to know what the other was thinking. They just shared a look—the two most miserable co-conspirators in Gravity Falls.

####

12:25 p.m.

Bill sat cross-legged at the edge of the cliff and watched until the afterimage of the Quantum Destabilizer's shot had faded from the sky; and then he went inside his shelter, mixed the world's lamest margarita in a coffee mug, took it outside, sat again, and toasted toward the town and the Mystery Shack.

Here's to survival.

He sat outside until the gash the Quantum Destabilizer had cut in the clouds closed and it began to rain.

####

1:10 p.m.

Stan had come and gone a few minutes ago, and already Ford had forgotten everything he'd said, if he'd even registered it in the first place.

His fingers had itched until he'd finally had a moment to steal down to his study, retrieve Journal 5, and bring it up to the guest room; and now for over half an hour he'd been feverishly writing down every single thing he could remember learning about Bill over the last two days. The drawing of his homeworld. His lecture on biangles and psychic powers. How polygons inherited their sides. (Their royalty sounded nigh on Habsburgian; had their political system ever changed?) What little details Bill had let slip about where Edward Bishop Bishop's book was wrong. (Had he told Mabel more about their relationship? He'd have to ask when she was home.) How Bill signed his letter: "· -·-- --", Morse code for "EYM," was it an acronym, was it a code, what did it mean, why did he write it in two colors? How Bill spelled Mabel's name in alien alphabets: Mabelle, Maybell, the varying extra letters. How Bill danced: how he struggled to cross his ankles, how he turned out his feet, how his spine and shoulders never bent, how the complex ways he tilted his legs and pelvis compensated for his stiff spine.

If Bill was sticking around a while longer, then these details still mattered.

He refused to forget a thing.

####

Sunday, 12:02 a.m.

As "We'll Meet Again" finished playing, Mabel turned off her phone, put it back on her nightstand, and wiped her eyes again. Big stupid dork couldn't even say this himself, he had to hide it behind a song. 

Yes. They would meet again. Law of attraction. Believing it was the first step to making it come true.

####

10:20 a.m.

The fearful butterflies in Mabel's stomach had slowly returned during the drive home from Portland. No one had texted her—was that a good sign?—but she was afraid it just meant they'd decided to let her enjoy the rest of her trip before letting her know she was grounded forever for helping Bill escape. When they'd all greeted her at the door, looking so somber, and she was sure she was about to get the bad news, she'd just had to keep acting normal and hope she wasn't gonna get in more trouble for playing dumb.

The last thing she expected Stan to say was, "Weshotim."

"Say wha?"

"We got that—space gun of Ford's working. We shot him. He's... I'm sorry, sweetie."

Mabel stared at Stan. That was impossible—there was no way they'd found Bill. But—if Stan believed he was dead...

She dragged her gaze from his face to Dipper's. Dipper bit his lips, staring at his feet. He wouldn't meet her eyes—too afraid that even looking at her would give something away.

She looked from Dipper to Ford. "Grunkle Ford?" She tried not to hope. "Is it true?"

There was no way he'd believed the dummy was real. The moment she'd read Bill's so-called "enchantment," she'd known making it believable was never the point. Bill's only real plan had always been to get Ford on their side.

For a long moment, Ford said nothing. He dragged his eyes up to meet her stare, took a deep breath, and nodded. "He's dead."

Mabel's eyes widened. Two days ago, Ford had been the one arguing that killing Bill was their only choice. If he'd changed his mind...

If anyone said anything else, she didn't register it in her excitement. She backed out of the doorway, leaped off the porch, and ran around the shack, looking for her bike. 

She had to see Bill immediately.

####

10:21 a.m.

Quietly, Dipper asked, "Did we do the right thing?"

Ford didn't know. His stomach had been twisting with guilt and doubt since yesterday. His conscience had kept him up half the night. "I hope so."

He feared they'd have second-guessed themselves no matter what.

####

2:30 p.m.

Bill was asleep. He'd been sleeping off and on for most of the past day. This was the first time since he'd died that he had somewhere safe to sleep—somewhere nobody could touch his vulnerable body, nobody could move him, drown him, kill him.

And this was the first time he hadn't been helpless and sightless.

In his sleep, he saw his own body, curled up on the tilted floor against a wall, on top of the sleeping bag and under the Pony Heist bedsheet, from an eye he'd drawn on the ceiling.

From another eye he'd drawn on the wall, he saw the ship's open hatch, the overhang above, a small sliver of the gray drizzly sky over Gravity Falls.

And from his eye on the tree, blurry and fading as the rain washed away his saliva, he saw a human-shaped mass of raucous colors exploring the pit in the ground left behind by his hovering platform.

A human? He sat up with a gasp and looked at the screen displaying the proximity sensors. Sure enough, the sensor at the base of the cliff was displaying a Mabel-shaped silhouette.

He grabbed his flashlight and climbed out of his shelter.

####

"Kid, what are you doing out out here?!"

Mabel looked up. Bill was some twenty feet above her and quickly descending on what looked like a chunk of flying dirt the same size as the pit in the ground she'd been inspecting. "Bill!" She leaned her bike against the cliff face. Finally—she'd been wandering around in the trees forever trying to figure out where Bill's rendezvous point was hidden.

"It's pouring rain," Bill scolded. "You could lose your immune system or—or slip in the mud or something."

"Wow, nice to see you too, mom." Mabel ran up as Bill landed his floating chunk of ground.

"Hey, I don't want anything happening to my favorite human!" He scooted over to make room for her on the platform. "Just couldn't wait for a sunny day to meet again, huh?"

"Psh, come on! Like you meant that literally." Near Bill, the rain had mysteriously stopped landing on Mabel. She looked up and saw the rain simply parting in the air over Bill's head.

He noticed her glance and said, "Did I ever teach you the spell to repel rain? Remind me to do that before you go." He pointed his flashlight's beam at a rune on a stone rising from the platform, and it lifted off again. "Nice sweater today." He poked one parrot-winged sleeve, its bright colors darkened by the soaking rain. "It probably looked better dry."

Mabel smacked away his hand. "Bill, guess what! Grunkle Ford decided to protect you!"

"I know, I saw the wasted shot from here." He steered the platform onto the cliff. He landed it next to a hatch that opened into a subterranean tunnel. "Of course, I always knew he would. Didn't I say we'd pull this off?"

Sure he'd known. That was why he'd lied about what the "enchanted" paper really was so Mabel wouldn't worry.

Mabel followed him down into the metal tunnel. "Do you know what this means? You can come back to the shack!"

Bill turned to stare at her in bewilderment. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Because... it's safe now? They're not gonna kill you?" Mabel squinted. "Why's it so dark in here?"

"Oh, right. You need this." Bill offered the flashlight.

Mabel turned it on. They were in a metal chamber, about half the size of the Mystery Shack's floor room and nowhere near as tall. One end of it had been torn off and dirt and stone served as the new wall. Most of the walls were dominated by heavy metal consoles, curved metal chairs, and screens, a few of which were on but flickered irritatingly. One chair still had a fossilized alien skeleton in it. Bill had put his top hat on it.

His supplies were piled haphazardly on consoles and the floor; all Mabel saw in his food pile was shelf-stable junk food and drinks. The air somehow felt more damp in here than it did outside with the rain. The chairs didn't have cushions, the floor didn't have carpet; everything was hard and cold and dark. She didn't even see a door for a bathroom in here. This was where Bill was staying?

"The Mystery Shack is safe for now," Bill said. "Just wait until Stanley decides to take another swing at me, or Dolores poisons my dinner again—or Ford changes his mind, dunks me in the bathtub, and doesn't let me back out."

"They wouldn't..." Mabel trailed off. She tried to imagine how mad Stan would be when he found out Bill was alive, and had to concede he might.

"Even if it was safe—why would I go back to that sorry makeshift prison?" Bill hopped up into one of the tilted alien chairs. There was a weird extended bit designed for alien anatomy that curved up at the end of the seat and forced Bill to straddle the chair rather than sit in it normally; it didn't look comfortable. "After almost a month and a half, I'm finally free!"

"Free inside a tiny bubble around the town," Mabel protested. "To live in a... weird little metal dirt room."

"Freely moving inside the entire barrier is a lot better than freely moving through half a shack! Surrounded by people who want me dead! I don't even get full privacy when I'm using the toilet—that's the bare minimum humans offer as basic respect! You don't know how many times I've been walked in on!"

"Do you even have a toilet here?"

Bill hesitated. "There's a—there are gas stations within walking distance."

"How are you gonna get into the restroom?"

"Fine, I'll dig a pit or something, all right? The point is, whatever I do, at least I can do it in freedom!"

He hadn't planned this through at all, Mabel realized. He'd only thought as far ahead as finding food and shelter that would last him the next couple of days. "But..." She gestured at the pathetic room around them. "The shack's got a proper roof and a shower and real food—wouldn't that be better than this?"

Bill scoffed "Only humans care about roofs and showers, and the idea of 'real' food is a social construct I reject!"

He'd be miserable here. Mabel couldn't let Bill do this to himself. "Then don't you wanna be in the shack with your only friend on Earth?" She gave him a pleading look. "Would you really rather spend the rest of summer in some dumb old busted alien ship?"

There was a flash of light reflected in the dark as Bill's eyes turned away from Mabel.

"Bill?"

He didn't respond. He trudged past her, halfway up the walkway out of the ship, and stopped there, his back to Mabel, hands on his hips, staring out into the rain. He sighed. "Kid, you're trying to give me Stockholm syndrome."

"I don't know what that means."

"It means I'll think about it," Bill said, voice flat. "Go back to the shack."

Before Mabel could move, Bill said, "Hold on. Let me teach you that umbrella spell first." He turned and descended back into the ship. "And when's the last time you ate? Human bodies act pathetic if they don't get glucose every three hours. Get some lunch, it's a long bike back to the shack." He gestured at his meager food supplies.

She rummaged through the foil bags and colorful boxes and grabbed some Chipackers and sour gummy dolphins.

Bill sat near her, grabbed a bag of jerky for himself, and said, "And tell me about that concert you abandoned me to my doom for."

####

4:00 p.m.

Bill escorted Mabel down off the cliff—and, at her request, let her borrow the flashlight and wiggle the floating platform back and forth a little as they descended. He took back the flashlight when she nearly crashed the platform and killed them both.

"Where'd this come from?" Mabel asked, poking the stone. "Did the aliens make this, too?"

"Nope! This is good old local Earth magic. Ever hear of Caterpillar Man?"

"Is that some kind of superhero?"

"Afraid not. Well—ever hear of Grendel?"

"Uh-uh."

They were nearly at the ground now. "I think I'll tell you next time."

As the platform lifted him back up, Bill watched Mabel 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.

####

Monday, 1:03 a.m.

And it was even chillier in the post-midnight dark when he knocked on the Mystery Shack's door.

####

(Eager to hear what y'all think now that you've seen the full story of how Bill survived—last week once Dipper and Mabel's roles were revealed, I think most folks thought that fully explained how Bill faked his death. ;) Next week is probably a double length chapter, because there's no graceful way to break it in half and also it'd be nice to get this plot arc wrapped up before The Book of Bill comes out lmao.)

[jockbroski34]

New Blood (Chapter 1)

This is my first TF story. I hope you enjoy and I have plenty of other ideas I've come up with for future stories.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I would’ve been surprised if you told me how my first day at my new school turned out. My dad was transferred to a different branch at the job he worked at, so we were forced to move to a different state. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t miss my old town, but it’s not like I was that close with most of the people I went to school with anyways. On the bright side, being transferred to a new high school gives me the chance to start fresh and make some new friends. Little did I know how right I really was.

The first day started out about as boring as you could imagine. The teachers reciting the syllabus, introducing ourselves to the class, the usual mundane activities expected for the first day. However, all of that changed during 3th period. It was algebra, and normally I could care less. But it wasn’t the class that caught my attention, hell no. Class started as usual. The class was packed full of students, with nearly every seat taken. About 3 minutes into the class, class was interrupted by an opened door and a large figure.

He must’ve been 6’3”, making me who is 5’10" look like someone who hadn’t hit his growth spurt in comparison. His brunette hair, short and spiked with the sides shaved, helped to accentuate his angular face and his alluring emerald green eyes. He wore a football shirt that fit snugly against his chest and his bulky biceps bulged out of the sleeves. His thick thighs made his jeans a tight fit. They could definitely crush a watermelon. Perhaps even my face, I thought, as I admired the handsome man.

“Sorry I was late, bro. Just got out late from my meeting with Coach”, the stud said, in a nonchalant, baritone voice. He sounded like your stereotypical jock.

“Don’t make this a regular thing, ‘bro’” our teacher grumbled. “I know you’re the team captain, but it doesn’t mean you can just barge in while I’m teaching.”

“Relax, dude. It’s just a one time thing.” he responded. Looks like he’s the big man on campus. He sure didn’t seem to care that he was late on the first day of school.

The giant scanned the room looking for a place to sit. First the right end of the room, then the middle, and then he looked towards the left, where I sat, and conveniently at the empty desk adjacent to me. For a split second, our eyes were staring right at each other, but my gaze veered the other direction out of embarrassment. The jock’s lips curved into a slight smirk as he began to walk into the rows of desks, accidentally bumping me with his massive size 15 foot.

“Sorry bro”, he said as he placed himself in the seat next to me. His nice round ass stood out to me as he made himself comfortable.

The class continued on as normal, but for some reason, I felt like I could concentrate even less than I could before. The beefcake next to me kept my mind preoccupied. He was the most attractive guy I’ve seen so far at this school, and I couldn’t help but be distracted by his perfect body. His toned body glistened, likely from the sweat of a morning jog, and I noticed a slight scent that affirmed that. I normally found the smell of sweat to be a little disgusting, but for him, it seemed to mix well with his natural aroma. The scent of a man.

“No. If a guy like him finds out that you’re gay, you’ll never hear the end of it,” I scolded myself in my head. I could already imagine myself being harassed by him and his meathead friends.

Strangely enough, just as I had been looking at him, I also felt like I was being watched as well. I must have been imagining things. I wouldn’t call myself unattractive, but I never caught the attention of other guys…let alone girls.

The teacher finished up with the material sooner than expected, so he stopped teaching for the rest of class until the bell rang. With about 10 minutes to spare before my next class, I reached into my pocket to grab my phone to kill time, but then I heard that same voice from before.

“Sup bro,” the hunk next to me greeted me. “I’ve never seen you before. You new here?”

This guy was talking to me. Wait, why was he talking to me? I was incredibly caught off guard, but I decided to play it cool and hide my embarrassment.

“Yeah, my name’s Jacob. My parents just moved into town the other week and now I’m here.”

“Damn, that sucks, but I hope you like it here. Nice to meet you Jacob. I’m Zach. You mind if I call you Jake for short?”

Most people called me by Jacob and I preferred it like that, but for him, I didn’t really mind.

“Sure, nice to meet you too,” I responded. He reached out his hand to shake mine, but my hand felt small engulfed in his meaty palms.

We spent the remaining time in class getting to know each other. The more I talked with Zach, the more I realized how we were basically complete opposites. He was as I expected, a stereotypical jock, only interested in sports and going to the gym and I was anything but that. I could tell through his attitude that he was full of confidence, maybe even bordering on arrogance, but he still seemed rather agreeable. Despite our obvious differences, we actually got along surprisingly well. I expected him to be some brute, some bully, but he was actually a pretty fun, chill guy. He actually gave me his number too. The bell rang and we both packed up our supplies into our backpacks.

“Hey man, so where’s your next class?” Zach asked.

“Room 214. Must be on the second floor,” I replied.

“Oh cool. I’m actually headed that way too. Don’t worry, I know this school like the back of my hand!”

We walked up the stairs to the second floor and down the hallway.

“Hey, so lunch is coming up and I don’t know if you have anywhere to sit yet,” Zach inquired.

I had completely forgotten about lunch. At my old school, it wasn’t uncommon for me to sit by myself. I was the kind of guy who didn’t really mesh well with any crowd and I had few close friends.

“I don’t, why?” I responded.

“I just figured that because you’re new, you might want somewhere to sit. You can come sit with us.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, the guys on the team are cool. I doubt they’d mind since you know me.” I imagined myself feeling out of place amongst the burly football jocks. Still, it was better than nothing.

“I might take you up on that offer,” I replied.

“Great, bro!” Zach smiled. His bright grin was contagious, and I felt a smile on my face as well. “I hope to see you there.” He patted me on the shoulder with his firm hands before we parted ways. Our classrooms, however, were conveniently right next to each other.

I felt like I could concentrate even less than I could during 3rd period. Thoughts of early US history blurred in my mind as the image of Zach lingered. Why was he being so nice to me of all people? Despite my curiosity, I started to think of him as a friend. For some reason, I felt myself drawn to him.

After an eternity, the bell rang for lunch, and I walked to the cafeteria. I got lost on the way there, as I was still unfamiliar with the layout of the building. As I walked past each table, I felt the impression that I was an outsider. Most tables were full of students, with few seats left open for me. It was like everyone else already knew each other, and that there was no place for me. Until I heard that voice again.

“Yo, Jake!” Zach shouted, his words breaking through the endless sea of mindless chatter. I turned my head to the right and saw him and several other members of the football team at a large table. How did I miss it? It’s a big table for big guys. “Did you get lost or something?”

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Sorry about that, bro. Come sit down!” He moved over, giving me room to squeeze in. He introduced me to the team, and it seems like he already told them about me, so they were eager to meet me. I recognized one person from my previous class.

“You’re…Bradley right?” I asked.

“Yeah, but call me Brad. No one except my brother calls me that anymore.” he answered. He wasn’t as tall as Zach, standing at a respectable and exact 6 feet tall. He was, however, a lot bulkier than Zach, who was more toned in comparison, but he wasn’t fat. His hair was shaved into a short blonde buzzcut and he had deep blue eyes. I recalled him falling asleep for a bit during last class. The bro must not have gotten enough sleep last night.

Zach, Brad, and the other guys talked about sports and working out after class, and other stuff that a stereotypical jock would talk about. I did my best to include myself in the conversation, but I felt kinda lost keeping up and I felt like a bit of a poser compared to them. I knew only basic level sports knowledge and I had never lifted a weight in my life. If only I was more like them.

Despite that, I actually got along with them better than I expected, and I was glad to know that they were more like Zach than I had anticipated. They did make fun of me for not knowing certain players or who won the game last night. However, I didn’t get the impression that it was malicious, but rather more playful, like how one would joke around with his bros. Even though I clearly looked and felt out of place, I found myself enjoying their company and I tried to absorb whatever knowledge the jocks discussed like a sponge. What felt like an entire day of hanging with the bros was only half an hour as the bell rang and the crowd of students emptied the cafeteria to depart for their next class. I said my farewells to Zach’s friends and made my way to my next class. Zach, instead of staying with his fellow teammates, pursued me and joined me, walking at my side.

“Hey, thanks for sitting with us, bro. I told you they’d like you.”

“Of course…” I replied, unsure of what to say, but I smiled. “I did feel like a fish out of water, but I did have a good time.”

“No worries, bro. I kinda figured you would feel out of place, but you did great. Give it time and I’m sure you’ll fit right in.” Zach smirked. “You just gotta get out of your comfort zone, man.”

“I guess I never thought of it like that,” I was surprised at Zach’s different perspective. “Maybe I could be as strong as the rest of you are and throw balls around someday,” I joked, as the idea of me being like one of them felt unrealistic to me.

Zach chuckled and gave me a wink. “Who knows? Life is full of surprises. Anyways, my class is this way, but I think we have the same class next period. Later, bro!”

The rest of the day went by quick, and was relatively uneventful. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, school was over, and I could finally go home. I thrusted myself into my bed, overwhelmed by my first day of school., but for once, I was actually kinda happy to be there. I met Zach, Brad, and a bunch of other guys on my very first day. Zach specifically lingered in my mind, and I recollected every inch of his body in my mind. I started to get hard picturing every exquisite detail, and I couldn’t help but bust my load to him. Eventually day turned to evening and evening turned to night, and I closed my eyes, wondering what the rest of the year had in store for me.

The next two weeks came and went and I became accustomed to the new school and my new friends. I went to class, ate with the football team at lunch, and I even started to hang out with Zach more. He offered to help me with the gym if I helped him with some of his schoolwork. I agreed obviously, as I wouldn’t mind building some muscle. It was always good to help a bro out and also I just wanted to be closer to him. As I helped him with math and science, he helped me with lifting weights and exercises. I struggled at first, but eventually I started to notice some improvements and I could tell he was proud.

Whenever we finished studying or working out, we spent the rest of the night watching sports or playing video games. Zach had to explain the rules to me, but I started to understand football on a surface level. Other than that, I got invited to a party at Brad’s place, and I had a great time partying and drinking with Zach and the football team. During those weeks, I was probably the happiest and most social I have ever been in my life.

The following week was when everything changed. One day before lunch, I was approached by someone who I have never seen before. He wasn’t very tall, standing at a modest 5’8”. He looked babyfaced with his nerdy, boyish looks and blonde hair, and his glasses helped to emphasize his meek blue eyes. I think he was a year below me.

“My name is Braden.” He said. “You’re the new kid who’s friends with Zach, right?”

“Yeah I am. My name’s Jake…I mean Jacob.” I responded. For a second, I found myself using the name Zach and the other jocks called me.

“I think you should stay away from him. He’s bad news.”

“What’s wrong with Zach?” I asked. Zach had been nothing but good to me since we met. I couldn’t imagine him having any malicious intent. He even took care of me at the party when I was black-out drunk for the first time.

“Ever since my brother started hanging out with him, he started acting… weird. He was never into football or anything, but now he’s on the team and he looks and acts like a completely different person.”

“I…What are you talking about?” I was seriously confused about what he meant.

“I’m serious! Unless you want to end up like just another jock…”

“Hey, Jake! How’s it going?” Zach cut in, seemingly oblivious to the fact that we were talking about him. “And you’re Brad’s brother, right?” Braden avoided eye contact with his brother’s friend.

I felt a sense of urgency, as I felt like I was going to be late. “I’ve gotta get to lunch. It was nice meeting you, Braden!” I said as me and Zach walked to lunch together. What the hell was his deal anyways?

“Braden’s a weird dude. Don’t worry about what he says,” Zach informed me, trying to ease the mood.

Later that week, I was hanging out at Zach’s place again after a workout, helping him with the algebra quiz that was next class. I helped him understand the concepts better and we wrapped up reviewing the study guide, so we finished and we laid down on his bed.

“Hey man, I’ve been thinking…” Zach started, but he sounded rather hesitant, unlike his usual confident self. “What would you think about joining the football team?”

“I…” I was honestly kinda surprised. Why would he want me, of all people, to join? I wasn’t unathletic, but even working out with him would not have prepared me to play football. “I’m flattered you would want me, but I don’t think I have what it takes. Plus, I’m not like you guys at all,” I answered.

“That’s fine, bro. Me and Coach can help condition you to become the jock I know you want to be.”

“Condition?” I was confused, unsure about what he meant by that.

“I know how much you want to be like us, bro,” For some reason, the word bro sent shivers down my spine. He had a devious look on his face. “And I can see your potential. That’s why I chose you. It helped that you’re the new kid anyways so no one will notice if you turned into another jock. I made that mistake with Brad and now that kid Braden won’t leave me alone.”

Zach paused, realizing that he said too much, but at this point, there was no going back. Despite his malicious intent, I got hard at the thought of being one of them, of being one with the team. My friends were always there for me the past few weeks and we had a strong bond despite our differences. I looked up to them, and wished I was more like them.

“That’s not the only reason I chose you…” Zach rolled over, climbing on top of me, his heavy, muscular body pinning me down, his legs straddled between mine, his sweat from the workout from earlier spreading through my nostrils. “I knew you were gay. I could just tell. But that’s okay, because so am I. You’re cute enough as you are now, but I think you would look better standing side-by-side with me, looking, thinking, and acting like me. Don’t you agree?”

I was overwhelmed by the situation, and by Zach’s sudden change in behavior. But I subconsciously nodded as my cock throbbed in my pants. Whether my mind or my dick was thinking first, I could not tell you.

“If you join the team, I’ll be yours, and you’ll be mine. How does that sound, bro?”

I tried to weigh my options. I thought about the kind of person I was. Who was I before I came here? Before I met Zach? I…I was nobody. I didn’t have any friends here. Zach took me in. My mind was fixated on the man in front of me. I realized I longed for him. I longed for the team and my bros. I longed for football. I longed for working out. And that’s when everything became clear. I longed to become a jock like him.

“That sounds awesome, bro,” I answered. Bro? I never said bro before. I guess Zach was really starting to rub off on me. I gave into temptation, but I knew that it was what I secretly desired ever since I met him.

“That’s a good bro…” Zach responded, obviously pleased with my answer. A seductive smirk lit up his face as he pressed his lips to mine. We enjoyed that moment for what felt like several lifetimes, but in reality it was actually only a few minutes of sweet passion. At this point, I felt like my cock was about to burst. At this point, I desired him. Zach noticed the raging bulge in my pants. “I know you wanna fuck, but I can’t give you what you want just yet. You will meet me in Coach’s office after class tomorrow. After we finish your transformation, then you can cum.”

“Yes, bro…” I muttered, keeping my erection under control. The rest of the evening was surprisingly normal between us, almost like the erotic scene that had just taken place was something out of a fever dream or a hallucination. We played some video games to kill time and to lighten the mood. The only reason I knew it was real was because of the firm erection that lingered in my pants. Eventually I said goodbye to Zach and went home.

“Remember to meet me after school. And just remember, you can still back out if you want…but I have a feeling you won’t,” Zach sneered, looking down at my pulsating serpent. Despite his words, however, I knew that my mind had already crossed the point of no return.

The next day was unbearable. The anticipation of what awaited me after this long day was killing me. What made it worse were the classes where I had Zach. He could tell that I was finding it hard to focus, and it felt like he was edging me with his mind. I could barely concentrate on the algebra quiz we studied for the night prior. I could only think about joining the football team and I imagined what it would be like to be a jock. I’d be big and strong, sexy, athletic. I would fit right in with all my bros. Working out together, practicing together, winning and celebrating together.

During lunch, Zach announced that I would be joining the team, and the group of football jocks cheered and welcomed me to the team. One of them said it was only a matter of time until I decided to join, and I couldn’t really deny it. I looked at each member of the team, and I wondered how I would look compared to them. For a second, I remembered Braden’s words, but I quickly shrugged them off. He made it seem like my transformation would be a bad thing, but a nerd like him could never understand. This is what I desired. This was what I was destined for. And I kept those words in my head, as the clock turned to the end of the school day.

As soon as the final bell rang, I immediately rushed over to the locker room. I saw Zach in his white and red football uniform, missing only his helmet, and, having never seen him in this outfit before, I thought he looked perfect in it. And soon, so would I.

“You’re here early, bro,” he said. “You’re even more eager than I expected. Coach isn’t here yet, but I can explain the details to you.”

He led me towards the back, where he pulled out several pieces of clothing that would become synonymous with my new identity. A jersey already stitched with my name on it, tight compression pants and a compression shirt, football cleats, shoulder pads, a jockstrap, and a sturdy helmet that would adorn my head like a king would wear his crown.

“Put it on.”

I complied. I was a little disappointed at first, as the clothing looked at least a size above what I would normally wear. “No worries, you’ll grow into them quick, trust me.”

As I put on my new uniform, I started to become curious. What was this all about? So I asked him, “What’s the point of all of this anyways?”

“I guess there’s no reason to hide it anymore,” he responded. “To be honest, I was kinda like you once. I wasn’t really athletic like I am now, but my dad was actually a professional football player. He was forced to retire early due to a bad injury, but despite that, I wanted to do what he couldn’t. But no matter how hard I tried, I could never be the player I wanted to be. That all changed when Coach learned of my struggles and we worked together to make me into the football jock I had always dreamed of. Eventually, after about a year of testing, we found a way and that’s how I became who I am now. For once, I was strong, athletic, and confident, and it never felt forced or fake. Like this was who I really was all my life. Since then, similar studies were done at different high schools and colleges across the US. You wouldn’t know about any of that, because it’s all behind closed doors. Eventually, I found you and I realized that you were probably just as lost as I was, so I kinda took advantage of that. Sorry, I guess I’m not the kind of guy you thought I was.”

I had no idea that’s how Zach truly felt. I sympathized with him despite him hiding so much from me. We came from different backgrounds, but we both wanted the same thing. To be better, and to be stronger. Even after he poured his heart out to me and told me the truth, he was still Zach to me. I cared for him and he cared for me. He opened my eyes to a new world full of different possibilities. And so, I pushed my lips into his and our tongues wrestled for dominance. We were stopped by footsteps approaching. We returned to normal as Coach walked into the room, oblivious to the fact that we were making out seconds prior outside of our rosy cheeks.

“So you’re the kid Zach’s been talking about. I’m Coach Myers.” the man said. “I’m guessing he told you everything. Do you have any questions before we get started?”

“No sir,” I answered.

“In that case, let’s go into my office.” I obliged eagerly. There’s no going back. “Have a seat, sign these forms, and put these on.” They were earbuds. I signed my name on every form, formally granting my consent to join the team, and likely whatever changes would occur to me. In front of me was an old TV with a VCR. “You will watch and listen to this video for the full duration. You will notice some changes and you might feel a little uncomfortable. All you have to do is relax and focus on the video.” I did as he said. I sat down in my new football uniform, and I put the earbuds in both ears, and then finally put my helmet onto my head. With everything prepared, Zach turned off the lights, and the TV turned on, playing a video.

With the helmet over my head, my peripheral vision was restricted. I had little choice but to look at what was directly in front of me. My eyes became fixated on the screen in front of me as they became entranced by the flowing spiral. As I fell deeper into a trance, I felt as though my mind and body were on the opposite ends of the world. The audio was hard to make out, but somehow I felt like I understood it, at least subconsciously.

After a period of time that my mind couldn’t possibly comprehend, the imagery began to change. I started to make out clips of football players, playing football, being part of a team, throwing and catching the ball, tackling my opponents, strategies and plays. I learned the proper workouts and techniques and exercises that a football player would do. What at one time felt foreign to me felt like common knowledge, like I had done this my entire life. It was muscle memory, no pun intended.

It was at this moment that my body started to change. No. Change isn’t the right word. Evolve. I noticed my average-sized arms start to bulge, my biceps and triceps inflating like they were being pumped. Next, my shoulders expanded and became more sturdy, making my shoulder pads fit a little better. Then, my chest pumped out, my pecs eager to fill the empty space in my oversized jersey along with my new six-pack. Following that, my legs thickened until they felt tight in my compression pants, and my ass inflated like a balloon into a nice, round bubble butt. Below that, my feet grew longer and more wide, filling the size 15 shoes that my formerly size 11 feet would have had trouble walking around in. My penis, still erect, grew from an average 5 inches to an impressive 8 inches, feeling more and more aroused by the increasing stimulation and the surplus of testosterone flowing through my body. Finally, I felt my blonde medium length hair thin and become more like my teammates with shaved sides and a short top. Any chubbiness in my face disappeared as my facial features sharpened, especially my jawline and my chin, giving myself a more masculine look.

While all of this was happening, my mind was swirling and every part of me was being drained or replaced. I found that I was losing interest in most of my old hobbies, but the idea of playing and watching sports, working out, partying, having sex, and hanging out with the bros felt so much more enticing and appealing than it did before. I started to realize that I didn’t really care much about school or learning anymore, and that playing sports was the only real reason why I came to school. I was never the best student, but I always did my best. However, I realized that none of that mattered as long as I kept good enough grades to stay on the team. C’s get degrees, am I right? At worst, I could always bribe one of the smarter kids to do my homework for me.

Then, my mindset began to change. Before, I was introverted, polite, and humble. But now? I was outgoing, confident, and cocky, and I started to love the idea of that. It started to become unbelievable that I was ever not like this. I was always like this. As the changes in my mind were taking effect, I felt part of me overwhelmed by all the changes and trying to resist, but that stray thought was snuffed out like a candle, as the rest of my thoughts were drained from my mind. Any part of my former self’s mind was absorbed into my balls, which were swollen to the size of grapefruit at this point. As the changes in my body and mind reached its climax, so did my aching cock. As the video concluded, the words became more clear, and I could make out one phrase repeating over and over.

“You are a jock.”

It was at this point that I could finally release all my pent-up frustration from the past 24 hours. It was the best orgasm of my life. And just like that, load after load of my burning, sticky cum flooded my jockstrap, and with it, the memories of the old me were released from my body.

“Looks like someone made a mess,” Zach teased. “No worries, bro. It happens. How do you feel?” he asked as he put his arm around my shoulder. This time it felt different though, because I truly felt like one of the bros.

Jacob was gone. Jake took his place. I’m Jake, Jake the jock. My memories felt distorted but they were starting to become clear. I grew up always with a ball in my hand. I was naturally talented in any sport I played, but I gravitated towards football. I played it at my old school and I was among the best on the team. However, my dad got a new job and we were forced to move here. Thankfully, we were fortunate to live near a school with a gifted football program. I became friends with Zach and the football team, and naturally, I signed up for the team. And Zach? He was not just my bro or my best friend. He eventually became my boyfriend and the rest of the team supported our relationship. All of this felt so real to me, and a cocky smirk appeared on my unfamiliar face.

“Bro…I feel awesome,” I responded, my new, deeper voice matching both my new physique and personality. I looked down at my new body. It was like I hit puberty for the second time. I stood up, realizing that I was now several inches taller, now standing at a solid 6’2”. I was almost as tall as Zach, and I didn’t have to look up at him now. I felt like we were finally equals in terms of body and status.

“I told you you’d look amazing, bro,” he said as he gave me a peck on the cheek. “You should clean yourself up and get ready for practice. The other guys will never let it go if you come to your first practice with cum staining your uniform. Oh, and thanks Coach. Glad you could help both of us out.”

“Always glad to help out my star player,” Coach chuckled. “As for you, I think you turned out better than any of them yet. You might even give Zach a run for his money.” I felt a sense of pride being compared to him.

I quickly left Coach’s office and cleaned myself off. I changed into clothes that Zach lent me that would fit my new body better, and ran off to practice. Before that though, I stared at myself in the mirror so I could get my first glimpse of the new me. The person in front of me was completely unrecognizable to me, but I quickly grew comfortable with the jock in the mirror and I smiled at the person I had become. I pulled out my phone and took a picture of the flexing hunk that stood before me.

Time passed and my new life became more and more normal to me. I would go to school, hang out with the football team, go to practice, work out, and then hang out with Zach. It became a natural routine to me, and I was never happier. My grades dropped a bit because I was focused on football. It’s not that I can’t care about learning. I just don’t want to. Coach says it’s alright as long as I pass my classes.

For the first time, I felt a true sense of camaraderie with a group of guys, and especially Zach. It felt like we were joined at the hip. We were a pair both on the field and off it. We’re currently undefeated this year and I think we might even reach regionals.

Most of my classmates and peers barely noticed my changes since I was already new and to them, I blended in as yet another stereotypical football jock. The only people with an immediate reaction were my parents. They were a little surprised by my sudden changes, but they were supportive of my new passion for football and they were glad to see me making friends and staying active. I did remember one person who definitely would mind my changes.

Braden.

A week or so after my transformation, he walked up to me, obviously disappointed, with a look of shame on his face, and told me that I should’ve listened to him. I brushed aside his comments. He called me a dumb jock. I told him I was happier this way, but he refused to believe me. He wouldn’t accept it. He said that he was going to expose the football team somehow, and change everyone who was affected back, including me and Brad. He stormed off, hoping to find some way to expose us.

I didn’t show it on my face, but in my mind I was furious. I genuinely didn’t want to turn back and I didn’t want the football team to be suspended or shut down. I thought about Zach, about his dreams, and about mine. I wanted nothing more than for the two of us to live out our dreams together of being the best football jocks ever. I couldn’t let Braden figure out the truth. I have to stop him. I started to brainstorm ideas on how to keep him quiet.

A devious idea entered my mind. He wouldn’t want to snitch on us if we turned him into a jock first. He was obviously a little envious of me, of Zach, even his big brother. I’m sure he would grow to appreciate the idea if he just accepted it. Besides, I’m sure he would make a sexy football jock with his looks already. The idea of turning someone into a jock, corrupting them, awakening their true desires became so appealing to me, just like Zach had did for me. He’ll understand one day.

[cinnamonest]

I've been thinking more about promiscuous darlings which led me to the idea of prostitute!darling, and I was thinking about that like in that event a while back where Paimon says Kaveh seems like “the kind of guy that would be easy to take advantage of” and it got me thinking how quickly and readily he would fall in love with a prostitute… literally lured and baited as easily as a fish to a hook.

He doesn't like the thought of what he's doing, initially. He's never been the sort of person who associates with morally questionable things — he’s heard that a lot of those girls don't really want to be doing it, they just need money, so participating would be taking advantage of them, wouldn't it? He couldn't do something so awful.

But he's got a lot of pent up frustration. His work is hard, he's not in a good place financially, he's stressed, pent up, and has no outlet for release. And even if he strives to be a good person, he's still a guy, still has urges that, when gone unmet, only contribute to that frustration.

In hindsight, he feels like something possessed him. Couldn't say exactly what caused him to take a course of action so far removed from what he would have thought was his personal character.

It's just a particularly bad day, after particularly disagreeable clients spent a particularly long time endlessly getting in his face and complaining and snapping at him, he worked particularly late and is particularly frustrated and seething and wallowing as he sulks home so late at night, and he's particularly irritated because some construction going on forces him to take a different route home, and—

You just so happen to call out to him. And when he turns his head, he immediately stiffens up.

So pretty. You have that specific body type he’s always found most alluring, always pictured in his head when he would lay in bed and jerk off all day after classes. And he can certainly tell, because those outfits you girls on this part of the street wear certainly leave very little to the imagination. So much skin, he can see your entire leg, from the hip down to the ankles and all the curving along the way, he can see most of your tits too, cleavage spilling out from the top. It's immediately captivating. If he was thinking straight, he would suppose that's kind of the point, but he's too lost in the sudden burst of stimulation to his eyes to think about much at all.

You have such a nice smile, such a sweet voice. And now that you have his attention, you put on that whimsical feminine charm, shift your weight from one foot to the other, hips swaying all playfully, and he has to ask you to repeat what you said because he didn't hear you the first time, he was too distracted, and it feels so embarrassing to say that, but you just giggle — it's so cute — and repeat your question — if he wants to come inside.

He swallows, stumbles over his words at the prospect, you're being very forward — oh, wait, you probably mean come inside the building. Oh… that makes more sense, at this stage in the process. Whoops…

But that isn't much better. He's still red in the face and hesitates, all uh, ah, I, um, I just…

Yes, he isn't sure exactly what possesses him. It’s not something he would ever do on his own, surely. It feels more like the word comes out of his mouth on its own.

Sure.

The following events seem almost surreal, in hindsight. He can't remember what you even talked about, some empty meaningless conversation about what he does for a living or if he's been around this area before, some placeholder of a conversation that he knows full well is merely a courtesy to make it all feel a little more natural, empty words that are mutually understood to be just a buffer to prevent awkwardness as you walk up the stairs, to fill the short span of time before you get to the point.

He remembers said point a lot better. Long after it's over, he can remember the feeling of your mouth on his, and the way you pulled on the back of his neck to pull him on top of you, the rush of euphoric chemicals to the brain the moment you pulled just one little button undone and the whole thing you're wearing comes falling off, the visual of your body (he’s never actually seen a girl naked in real life before, it’s so captivating, the anatomy textbooks don’t do it justice), and the way your tits bounce with the movements and the way they feel in his mouth and the image of his cock driving into you over and over (no one ever told him it feels so warm and wet, so good, has he really been missing out on this all this time?) and the sounds you made are practically permanently burned into his brain.

So much so, he keeps thinking about it for days on end. He felt kind of sad when he left, but he knows that he only paid for a limited time slot, so it would be unfair to ask to stay any longer, but the way you smiled and waved and told him you hoped to see him again — still naked, body pressed up against the doorframe, the way your chest shifted when you waved — made him feel so warm, made his heart beat fast all over again.

It's all so distracting. He works at a much slower pace than usual, the following days, keeps getting distracted by the lingering visuals in his head and the way he keeps getting hard whenever he thinks about it, and not to mention the guilt.

Yes, as euphoric as it was, he feels terrible. Like he's done something wrong. Swears to himself that he'll forget about it and never do it again, that it was a one-time thing.

But he begins to rationalize it to himself.

Sure, you do it because you need money, but that means that if no one participated in the exchange, then you wouldn't make any money at all, and that would be worse, right? Besides, everyone knows some of those guys that engage in this sort of thing are terrible, mean people — but he's not, he's a really nice guy! So by seeing you, by being the one to buy your time, he's protecting you from potentially having to do it with really bad men. So, when you think about it, he's actually doing something really good.

And it improves his life, too. The next day, he finds that the nagging clients don't really get under his skin at all. Sure, they're complaining and being mean to him, but he's not really paying attention, it all feels far away, like it's not even real. He just feels full of this warm, fuzzy feeling, total bliss, like floating, without a care in the world. He isn't stressed, isn't worried. He even thinks to himself that, you know what, that task or that work can wait until tomorrow, no rush, and if someone gets mad about it, too bad.

He ends up just laying in bed, grinning like an idiot, basking in the euphoric high that lasts him several days on end.

…Except then, it fades away.

Soon he's back to the stress, constant state of being overwhelmed, the little things start to upset him again, and he actually feels more miserable than he did before, now that he has such a good feeling to compare to.

You said you hope he comes back, didn’t you? And he’s pretty sure he stuttered out an o-oh, okay, so now he’s obligated.

Thus, soon enough, he's back.

It's not like he's intentionally seeking you out. He just felt like walking home a different way today, is all, which just so happens to be the route that took him by you last time, and he has no intention of seeing you, it just so happens to be the case that you are standing around outside and you do happen to see him and you choose to call out to him (by his name!! You remember him!!), you're smiling and have such a sweet voice, you clearly want him to come in (do you like him? You wouldn't be smiling if you didn't, right?) and it would be mean of him to reject you, wouldn't it?

Yes, you're clearly happy. You smile all over again. He's not doing anything wrong, it's only wrong if the girl doesn't like doing it. He would never taken advantage of one of those vulnerable girls that's forcing herself to do it for money. But you're not like that, so it's okay.

Which is how he ends up back there a third time. Because it's okay, and it makes you happy, and it makes him very happy, so it's all okay.

And besides, what you two have is different. It's not like the normal cases, where the girl is just in it for money and doesn't want the guy at all. You clearly enjoyed your time with him. Probably a welcome relief from all the gross old guys you have to see.

And it's different because it's not just sex. Normally, with this sort of thing, it's cold and impersonal, isn't it?

But you smile so sweet and run your fingers through his hair, and cradle his head in your arms and pull him close and coo and fuss and run your fingers down his back. And since he intends to pay for the entire night this time, you get to just lay there together, and you're so warm and soft and you smile and giggle as he talks, so pretty, so nice to him, your skin is so good to touch, you smell so nice.

And the sex itself is different too — you like it, genuinely, he can tell, you make such nice sounds and lewd faces and look directly into his eyes and pull his head forward to kiss him (he one heard someone say that prostitutes never kiss clients, so if you do that it must mean he's different), and you hold him so close and tighten up around him and it feels so so so so good, and the way you quiver and the sounds get louder and you squeal and spasm and it's so so SO good, too good, it feels so passionate that it has to be real.

Yes, it is real. It's not just acting. He can feel the slick wetness all over his hips from you, that means it's real. And you don't even mind when he gets a bit lost in the feeling, starts to really let all the pent-up irritation out, gets rougher and harder and holds you by your throat. He feels so terrible after he cums and realizes what he was doing, keeps sputtering out apologies over and over, but you smile and wave your hand and say it's more than fine, giggle and kiss his forehead, say you wouldn't expect it from such a sweet boy like him, but you like it. If you're fine with it, if you like it, then you're not scared he might actually hurt you. You must really trust him, then.

The downside is that now, work feels so miserable. He keeps thinking about how much he wants to go back to you. Each project feels like torture — why is he here, negotiating with these disagreeable people, slaving away all night, when he could be balls deep in you again, hear your voice, feel your touch?

And he starts to get so irritated and frustrated again, and he finds that this time around, he doesn't have to sit there and let the frustration hit a peak before deciding to do something, he doesn't have to rationalize it for hours on end just to allow himself to give into the urge — the moment the frustration rises, his mind immediately settled on the decision. He has to go see you. You'll make everything better.

Except now, he realizes as he reaches into his drawers, there's a different problem.

…He has no money left.

That means he can't see you. He spent all his savings on you last time.

It makes him feel sick. This can't be happening. What is he supposed to do? He can't just go back to dealing with the frustration all the time! Now that he knows what it's like to be so happy, he can't go without it. He needs it.

It's not just the sex itself, he's not some kind of degenerate, he wants to see you! That's wholesome and good, isn't it? So it’s not like he’s some sort of pervert addicted to sex itself, he’s addicted to you.

And besides, if he isn't there for you, you'll have to deal with other men, and most guys who see prostitutes are bad guys, right? What if one of them hurts you? What if you're expecting him to come, and then you'll feel hurt and sad if he doesn't? You'll be disappointed. He can't let that happen.

So where is he supposed to get money from…?

Well. He has a few means, as he starts to brainstorm a bit. Right, there is a small stash of emergency money he had put away at the bottom of another drawer, that he was saving for a situation where he needed it, but put it away so he wouldn't be tempted to spend it on something unnecessary.

But this isn't like that. It is necessary, for him to continue functioning properly. And for you to have the money to get by! Not only is he guaranteeing your safety for the night, but what if you didn't get anyone if he didn't come? Well, it's unlikely no one would come, but still, you might not make enough money, and what happens then? Don't those guys that own the brothels get really mean to the girls that don't make enough? He can't have that happen. So, this situation absolutely justifies the use of the emergency stash. It's enough to give him another three nights or so. He can just use enough money for one visit, and then by the time he needs another one, he'll have brought in some new money.

No, no, you know what? You need it more than he does. He just gives it all to you at once, and to be honest, it does make his heart skip a beat when your eyes widen in shock. This way, he can reserve the next three nights in a row, right? He originally intended to space them out a bit, but, no, he’s already here, and he’s really needy right now, he’ll just do three nights in a row and figure out how to get more later. He'll just pay upfront. You're so happy. It makes him feel good.

And then, as the night goes on, when you're laying there all curled up together talking about all sorts of things, he off-handedly mentions that you wear that dress of yours all the time, he's never seen you without it, is it your favorite?

And then you get this sheepish look on your face, give an awkward laugh, say that well, you don't really have any other clothes, you sold them all to get by before you ended up here, and you give so much back to the owners that you just don't have enough to get any more…

That's so sad. Poor thing. You can't just not have enough clothes… well, he only has a few things he changes back and forth himself, but girls are really into clothes and stuff, aren't they? You deserve to have nice things, it's sad that you don't get to. He keeps it in mind, says he promises he'll get you something. You say he doesn’t have to. You’re so sweet and considerate. That just makes him want to help you even more.

So when his next project is complete and he gets the payout for it, sure, he only needs about half of it to pay you for one or two nights each week for the next month, and he could get you something cheap and still have a little left over for rent, but… you deserve nice stuff. And the nice stuff would make you so much happier, too, it would earn him favor from you… besides, he has another project he'll finish soon, he can just pay late rent using that.

So he can get the nice stuff. Besides, even shopping exclusively for higher-end stuff, it's still a bit cheaper to buy the super revealing clothes, since they use less fabric. Not that he's a pervert or anything, it's just that you need clothes like that for your job, don't you? It's part of how you lure guys in. The fact that you'll look really nice in it to him is just a side bonus, it's really for your sake.

…Which, actually, does make him feel a bit sick to his stomach. He's getting you clothes that you'll use to hook other guys who aren't him. But, no, he's a mature person, he can't… let himself get upset about something like that… it’s not your fault… he'll just choose to not think about it.

He can distract himself with how happy you are. Your eyes light up and you smile so big and you stand on your toes to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his face all over. You're happy. You're really, really happy, because of him, he made you happy, his heart is beating so fast, and when you put them on it shows off even more than he thought it would, you can almost see everything, it just barely covers the bare minimum and you seem to really like that, you pull him close and reach a leg up behind him and pull his hips forward and the rest of the night is a hazy blur of lust and euphoria, you're so happy, and he's happy too.

It feels so good. He's been missing out on this all these years. It's the best feeling of anything in the world. He's so, so happy.

He's so happy that people in his life start to comment on it. They ask if something good happened, they say they're glad he seems less stressed. He just shrugs it off, says he's just been feeling better recently, or makes something up about a different change in habits.

And sure, he has to tell Alhaitham that he won't have rent just this one time, it's just that something came up, although he won't specify what it is, but he makes it sound important — not dishonestly, because it is important, it's just that he knows that the first assumption one would make would he something a bit… more important, but if that assumption is made, that's not his fault.

Nonetheless, he's soon out of money again. Gets hit with the same wave of panic. He's got a routine now, a habit, he's dependent on you for his stress. He needs it. If he doesn't get what he needs, how is he supposed to go on? How is he supposed to function? He can't just use his hand anymore, it's not enough, it doesn't have the same effect. And he can't just beg you to sleep with him anyway, he knows you need money, he would never put you in that situation, it would be unfair to you, he's a better man than that. He has to pay you somehow.

He has some things he doesn't need. Tools he hasn't used in ages. Some stuff he hasn't worn or needed in a long time. He can sell a few things.

And, you know what, this client has been really mean to him anyway, so if he cuts a few corners to get paid a bit earlier, it's no big deal, the guy doesn't deserve his best work anyway. It’s a mentality he normally would never take, but… this is different. This is a unique situation that calls for such measures.

And he's taken out loans before from the bank, usually for projects, and he usually pays it back, so they undoubtedly assume it's just another case of that, so he'll take out a decently sized loan… of course, he may need more money for more upcoming projects, and then they won't give him a new loan until he pays back the old one, but… well, he'll cross that bridge when he gets to it.

And normally, he would never, ever, ever do something bad, he's a person who prides himself on his moral values, but it's not like he's doing something bad in this case, its just pure coincidence that he happens to find some guy’s wallet dropped on the ground. It just so happens to have a lot of money in it. And he returns the wallet itself into the nearest law enforcement, he gives the object itself and all the IDs and such back. He's sure the rightful owner would pay him for the good deed anyway. And when you think about it, the fact that this would happen to him just when he needed it, it's probably some kind of divine grace that this happened, and who is he to deny what the higher powers gift him with?

He can keep making it work. And he can keep buying out larger and larger blocks of your time, to ensure no one else gets to you — after that one time he arrived to find out you were already occupied for the time being, it practically made his blood boil, made him feel so sick he walked home and couldn't get the images out of his mind of you with someone else, he can't let that happen again, it would kill him inside.

Likewise, he has to get a bit more earnings, take on some more jobs, sacrifice some more sleep because you keep hinting at certain things you want, and if he doesn't buy them for you, who will? It's all stuff you need anyway — well, stuff you need for your job, all the fancy jewelry and perfumes and clothes and stuff. And he gets benefits, too — your love and favor, you take initiative more, you ride him and kiss him more and let him do all sorts of filthy things you don't let anyone else do (he knows because you told him so), you even let him stop wearing protection when he sleeps with you, and it's so much better, it's completely different, he can't go back to the old way, having to be deprived of that warm, wet heat would be utterly miserable. You even give him a night or two for free, because you like him so much, tell him it should be a secret just between you two, okay? Of course, you can't do it all for free, so he has to come back again soon, but you know, this way, he'll stay incentivized, which is good — because you want him to come back because you like him, not for money, no, never that.

You tell him he's your favorite. You say that he makes you happy. You say you would be heartbroken if he ever stopped coming. You say that you need him.

You say that you love him.

He feels like he's going to die of happiness right there on the spot.

You mention that if someone just paid off your price to the owner (said buying price is whatever the owner decides), plus the debt you accumulate from staying here (it's well known that those fees are how they trap these poor girls into endless servitude), then you would be free — that if someone just pays for you, you could be free to do what you want, that you could sleep with him every day, you could even get married.

So he has to do it. He feels bad about the concept of buying a human being, but, his situation is different, because he's a good guy and loves you. Besides, the sooner he does, then the sooner you'll never have sex with anyone but him ever again. He's saving you, really.

And if he doesn't, what if someone else does? What if someone else took you away from him? He can't even imagine it. The very notion makes him feel nauseous, panicked, distraught. He can't let that happen.

It's not unfeasible. If he really budgets well, saves just a little at a time, he can get you out in no time. Just a year or so. He'll start saving.

And sure, he hasn't paid rent in a while now, and he gets these questions of where his money is going, why he's leaving late at night when he never did that before, all these pesky questions he shouldn't have to answer, because it's none of your business, as he mutters in response. He's just got too much going on right now, and strapped for cash, he'll pay it back eventually, that's what matters.

…Which also makes him realize that, even if he does buy you, you'll have to just come live here with him, and how is he supposed to explain that to Alhaitham… he can just say he got a girlfriend, right? Still, people might recognize you, he'd find out eventually, and then he'd probably realize all the missed rent payments were actually going to him getting laid, and that's… not good… he just wouldn't understand, he's totally lacking in any understanding of romanticism or love… such unfeeling pragmatists are so annoying to deal with… he'll just have to deal with that when it happens…

Except it does end up happening sooner than later. Someone or another (some jerk who can't keep their mouth shut, he'll find out eventually), must have seen him around at night, going to you, and that same person must have reported on him (like a grade school tattletale crying to a teacher, hmph!) and that's how he eventually gets confronted, point blank (absolutely no sense of tact or appropriateness!), one night as he’s trying to leave to go see you, but finds the other blocking the door.

Are you blowing your money on a whore?

Of course, before addressing the matter directly, it's important to point out that it is rude to call women terms like that, they are prostitutes and they deserve to be respected as much as anyone else—

So you are.

Which starts off a much bigger, longer, more heated argument, in which he tries to explain that no he’s not dodging the question and that it is not prostitution, you two are in a relationship, you just so happen to also be a prostitute, but he's trying to help you change that— hey, what's with the sighing like that and rubbing the bridge of his nose like he's exasperated? It's true! You even said you love him!

Okay, yes, maybe it's true that they all say that, but in this case, you mean it, you're different, he wouldn't get it.

And sure, the whole thing is probably surprising from him of all people— what do you mean it's not that surprising? What's that supposed to mean? What— who are you calling an “ideal target”?! That's so mean! You—

And despite his best efforts, there is no point in trying to use reason with someone so cold and devoid of capacity to understand love. It's futile. How pessimistic, so annoying. Besides, he's implying you're a bad person, and he can't stand for that. No, you're not using him, how could he say that?

Eventually it becomes very clear that the conversation is going nowhere, it's very much like talking to a brick wall, someone who just refuses to even try and understand what you two have. No matter. Fine, fine, he'll focus on paying back rent first, but then he's going to buy you, and then he'll see firsthand how loving you are (and surely will not charge him extra for another person living in the house, as he was just threatened with)… he'll see. Eventually.

[estapa-edwards]

i miss you, im sorry -- J.HUGHES

paring: jack hughes x fem! reader

word count: 2.15k

requested? yes - could you do this prompt for “I never thought I could miss someone this much” for a guy of your choosing? :)

warnings: use of y/n.

Y/N had always been close friends with Luke Hughes. Their bond was unbreakable, forged through years of shared experiences, secrets, and laughter. When Luke invited Y/N to spend a summer at his family's lake house, she eagerly accepted.

As Y/N stepped out of Luke's car, she was immediately captivated by the serene beauty of the place. The air was filled with the scent of fresh pine and the sound of water gently lapping against the shore.

"Welcome to my favorite place in the world," Luke said with a smile, grabbing Y/N's bags from the trunk.

Y/N couldn't help but smile back, feeling grateful for the opportunity to spend time with her best friend and his family in such a picturesque setting. She was about to meet Luke's parents, Ellen and Jim Hughes, and she wanted to make a good impression. Luke had assured her that his parents were friendly and welcoming, but Y/N couldn't help but feel a little anxious.

Just then, the sound of footsteps approached, and the kitchen door swung open. In walked Ellen Hughes, a graceful woman with kind eyes and a warm smile. Following closely behind her was Jim Hughes, a tall man with a friendly demeanor and a strong resemblance to Luke.

"Good morning, Y/N," Ellen greeted, her voice cheerful and welcoming. "It's so nice to finally meet you. Luke has told us so much about you."

"Good morning, Mrs. Hughes, Mr. Hughes," Y/N replied, standing up to shake their hands. "It's a pleasure to meet you both. Thank you for having me."

"Please, call us Ellen and Jim," Ellen said, her smile widening. "We're thrilled to have you here with us."

Jim nodded in agreement, extending a hand to Y/N. "It's great to meet the young woman who's been such a good friend to our Luke." Y/N felt herself relaxing, reassured by their warm welcome. They all sat down at the table, and Ellen began serving breakfast.

The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the lake as Y/N decided to take a leisurely walk along the shoreline. Dressed in a comfortable pair of shorts and a tank top, she slipped on her sandals and stepped out of the cabin, breathing in the fresh, pine-scented air.

Meanwhile, Jack had decided to spend the afternoon fishing on the opposite side of the lake. He packed his fishing gear, grabbed a hat to shield his eyes from the sun, and headed out towards his favorite fishing spot.

As Y/N strolled along the lakeside path, enjoying the peaceful surroundings and the gentle rustling of the leaves, she was lost in her thoughts. She didn't notice the figure approaching from the other direction until it was almost too late.

Jack, engrossed in untangling his fishing line, also failed to see where he was going. The next moment, they collided, both letting out a surprised gasp as they stumbled back.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Y/N exclaimed, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"No, it's my fault. I should have been paying more attention," Jack replied, looking up and meeting Y/N's eyes. Their gazes locked, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat, captivated by Jack's warm, brown eyes and his disarming smile. She found herself smiling back, her initial embarrassment giving way to a sense of curiosity and excitement. I'm Jack," he introduced himself, extending a hand towards her.

"I'm Y/N," she replied, shaking his hand and feeling a tingling sensation run up her arm.

"Yeah, Luke's friend, right?" Jack said, his eyes lighting up with recognition.

"Yes, that's right," Y/N confirmed, her smile widening.

"I've heard a lot about you," Jack added, his tone warm and inviting.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat, and she felt a rush of excitement. "Really? That's nice to hear," she replied, her cheeks flushing slightly. 

As the summer went on, Y/N and Jack found themselves drawn to each other more and more. 

One evening, Y/N, Jack, Luke, and Quinn decided to have a movie night at the lake house. They gathered in the cozy living room, blankets and pillows strewn about, popcorn bowls at the ready, and the soft glow of the TV illuminating the room. The atmosphere was relaxed and comfortable, filled with anticipation for a fun and enjoyable evening together.

"I think we should watch a classic like 'The Godfather' or 'Casablanca'," Luke suggested, walking over to the couch. "You can't beat the classics!"

Quinn, on the other hand, had a different idea. "How about  'Superbad' or 'Step Brothers'? We could all use a good laugh," he argued, trying to sway the group with his comedic choices.

Y/N, wanting to watch something more romantic and light-hearted, chimed in, "I was thinking more along the lines of 'The Notebook' or 'Pride and Prejudice'. Something romantic and uplifting would be nice."

Jack, wanting to watch an action-packed thriller, added his own suggestion to the mix. "What about like 'Inception' or 'The Dark Knight'? 

As the debate continued, the room grew tense and the voices louder. Each person passionately defended their movie choice, and it became clear that a compromise would not be easily reached.

"Why does it always have to be your choice, Luke?" Quinn argued, rolling his eyes. "Not everyone wants to watch a black and white movie from the 1940s!"

"Well, not everyone wants to watch some mindless comedy that's only good for cheap laughs," Luke retorted, his frustration evident.

Y/N tried to mediate, suggesting a compromise. "How about we take turns picking the movie? That way, everyone gets a chance to watch something they like."

Jack, however, was not satisfied with the suggestion. "That's not fair," he protested

"Jack, it is fair," Y/N responded, her voice firm and assertive. "But since I'm the guest, I choose the movie."

With a mischievous glint in her eye, Y/N grinned and announced her decision, "We're watching 'Dirty Dancing'!"

She laughed at the collective groan of disappointment that echoed through the room

As the opening credits of "Dirty Dancing" rolled on the screen, filling the room with the iconic music that everyone knew and loved, the tension from the earlier argument began to fade away. The group settled in, each finding a comfortable spot on the couch with blankets and pillows, ready to enjoy the movie.

As the movie progressed, Jack found himself increasingly drawn to Y/N. The familiar storyline and romantic dance scenes seemed to create a perfect backdrop for a blossoming connection. Subtly, he began to inch closer to her, shifting his position on the couch to close the distance between them.

At first, Y/N didn't think much of it, attributing Jack's movement to the shifting dynamics of the group as they got more comfortable. However, as she felt his arm brush against hers and noticed him subtly closing the gap between them, she couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement.

Y/N's hand rested in her lap, and she could feel Jack's fingers slightly grazing it as he moved closer. The gentle touch sent a thrill through her, and she became increasingly aware of his presence beside her. The warmth of his body, the subtle scent of his cologne, and the tantalizing sensation of his fingers brushing against her hand were all intoxicating.  

A few nights later, Y/N and Jack decided to go out for a night at a local bar near the lake house. The atmosphere was lively, with the sounds of laughter, music, and clinking glasses filling the air. The dim lighting and rustic décor created a cozy and inviting ambiance, making it the perfect spot for a relaxed evening out.

As the evening progressed, Y/N and Jack found themselves enjoying each other's company, laughing and chatting over drinks. The connection between them was undeniable, and the chemistry was palpable.

However, as the night wore on, a group of guys at the bar began to take notice of Y/N. One of them, a tall and confident-looking man, approached Y/N with a smug grin on his face.

"Hey there, beautiful," he said, leaning in a little too close for comfort. "How about a drink?"

Y/N, feeling uncomfortable but trying to remain polite, declined his offer. "No, thank you. I'm here with someone."

Ignoring her response, the man continued to press, his persistence becoming increasingly annoying. "Come on, don't be like that. You don't want to spend the night with this guy, do you?" he said, nodding towards Jack with a dismissive smirk.

Jack, who had been watching the exchange with growing irritation, felt his patience wearing thin. He didn't appreciate the man's disrespectful attitude towards Y/N, and he wasn't about to let it slide.

Stepping in between Y/N and the persistent suitor, Jack glared at the man, his voice dripping with warning. "She said she's not interested. Back off." The man, clearly not used to being challenged, scoffed at Jack. "Who do you think you are?" he retorted, puffing out his chest in a display of bravado.

Without another word, the situation escalated quickly. Jack, fueled by a mix of protective instinct and annoyance, threw a punch, and a brief scuffle ensued. The bar's security quickly intervened, breaking up the altercation and escorting the instigator and his friends out of the bar.

Breathing heavily, Jack turned to Y/N, his eyes filled with a mix of adrenaline and concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with regret for letting things get out of hand. I'm okay," she reassured him, placing a comforting hand on his arm. 

Upon arriving back at the lake house, Y/N led Jack to the bathroom to clean up the small cuts and bruises on his face from the fight. The dim light in the bathroom cast a soft glow, illuminating the concern in Y/N's eyes as she gently examined Jack's face.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Y/N said softly, her voice filled with care and tenderness.

Jack nodded, sitting on the edge of the bathtub as Y/N wet a washcloth with warm water and began to gently dab at the cuts and abrasions on his face. Her touch was gentle and soothing, and Jack found himself relaxing under her tender care.

Y/N's hands were gentle and careful as she cleaned the small cuts, her fingers tracing the contours of his face with a delicate touch. The intimacy of the moment was palpable, and the closeness between them was undeniable.

Jack watched Y/N as she focused on cleaning his wounds, her expression one of genuine concern and care. He was touched by her kindness and the tenderness of her touch, and he couldn't help but feel grateful for her presence and the comfort she provided.

As Y/N finished cleaning up the last of the cuts, she looked up at Jack, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of concern and affection. "There, all done," she said softly, her voice filled with warmth and reassurance. 

 "Thank you," Jack responded, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over him.

Seizing the moment, Jack leaned in closer to Y/N, his eyes searching hers for a sign of acceptance. The atmosphere in the bathroom was charged with tension and unspoken feelings, the intimacy of the moment palpable.

Y/N's heart raced as she felt Jack's closeness, her breath catching in her throat as she anticipated his next move. The connection between them was undeniable, and the magnetic pull was too strong to resist.

Closing the distance between them, Jack pressed his lips gently against Y/N's, their kiss tender and full of emotion. Time seemed to stand still as they shared a moment of intimacy and connection, the world around them fading away as they lost themselves in each other. 

"Y/N, we are ready to board the plane," a voice called out, pulling Y/N out of her daydream.

She blinked, her thoughts still lingering on the summer she had spent with Jack at the lake house. The memories were vivid and bittersweet, a reminder of the deep connection they had shared and the love that had blossomed between them. "Y/N, we are ready to board the plane," a voice called out, pulling Y/N out of her daydream.

Y/N settled into her airplane seat, staring out of the window as the world below became smaller and smaller. The memories of the summer with Jack continued to flood her mind, and a deep sense of longing and nostalgia washed over her.

"I never knew I could miss somebody this much," Y/N thought to herself, her heart aching with the realization.  She went to put her phone on airplane mode, when she saw a text from jack. “I miss you.”

i might do a part two!!

[abbyromanoff]

Hey I've got a request

Idk if you've written a fic about this before, so ignore this if you have

Late night conversations with big stepsis Nat has you admitting that you know next to nothing about sex except what you've read in textbooks

And Nat makes it her responsibility to teach (show) you everything she knows (especially all the kinky stuff)

Could you make is extremely smutty, please 🥺?

Step-sis

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Word count: 2149

Warnings: step-cest, daddy kink, innocence kink, slightly dark/pervert Nat, fingering, head, bit of a needy Nat, possessiveness, jealousy, small angst, mentions of strap sucking,

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

“Alright you two, don’t cause any trouble while we’re gone!” Your father yelled out, he and your stepmother leaving in a hurry. They were going on their honeymoon in Peru, leaving you and Nat all by yourself. The two of you had always gotten along, you had sought her for guidance most of the time and she was always happy to show you. You thought it was a little weird when she taught you how to kiss for your first-ever date, but she said she was just being nice and that you need to be grateful for all that she gives you.

“So, what do you want to do?” Asked the redhead, now coming down the stairs in a pair of boxers and a tank top. She wasn’t wearing a bra, you could tell by the hardened nipples making their appearance in the cold room.

“Well, dad gave me some money so we can buy pizza. If you want, we could have a pizza and ice cream night?” They were your favorite nights, she thought it was adorable how you got excited over little things like that. A chuckle escaped her lips as she shook her head lightly,

“Of course, baby, whatever you want.” A smile broke way on your face as you grabbed your phone and found the number for your local restaurant.

An hour later and you both sat on the couch, most of the pizza finished as your ice cream started to melt. You had a show on, the one you two binged together. Her arm was wrapped around your shoulder as you cuddled into her chest, your legs crossed over her own.

“Y/N?” Came her low voice, breaking the comfortable silence filling the room. When you hummed in response, she spoke again,

“Have you ever done that?” She pointed to the tv where two characters kissed down each other's bodies and removed their clothing. You gulped down any embarrassment you had and looked up at her, seeing her darkened gaze staring into your own.

“Uhm, no. No, I haven’t.” A small grin marked her face, you truly were her innocent little doll.

“Have you?” You wanted her to say no, that she’d never do that with someone other than you. But you knew that was unrealistic, she wouldn’t want to do that with you. Or so you thought. When you saw her nod, a small pit of jealousy formed in your body, you wanted her to be yours. You wanted to be the first person she’d touch, the first she’d fuck, the first she’d make love to.

“Oh.” She kissed the top of your head, leaving her lips there for a moment too long before leaning back to look at you.

“‘Oh?’ What’s wrong?” You shook your head and started to move from her arms, only to be pulled back down by her strong arms.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Are you jealous?” She stroked your hair in her hands as you played with your fingers, feeling a hand rest on top of them to calm you down. Her forest green eyes stared into your own, concern marking her face.

“I’ve never really done that stuff. And, I mean, you’re experienced and I bet you’re great too. Gosh, it’s stupid.” She urged you to speak, wanting to hear every thought in that pretty little head of yours.

“C'mon, I won’t make fun of you, I promise.” You sighed and whispered out,

“I want to be those girls you bring home every night, I want to be the one you kiss and make love to.” She couldn’t have been happier hearing those words. She wanted nothing more than to ruin you with her fingers, her strap, her mouth. Every time she’d bring someone home, she’d picture it being you. You beneath her as you begged her to let you cum, it got her wet just thinking about it.

“Sweetheart, come here. God, you’re so cute! You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting to hear you say that, I’ve been waiting so long.” She chuckled at your confused expression, dragging her finger across your jaw as she pulled you in. Your lips brushed her own as she stared down at them.

“Can I?” She mumbled, receiving a short nod in return. Her mouth landed on yours as she kissed you with passion, wrapping her hands around the back of your head to keep you close. She never wanted to let go. And when breathing became an issue, she would’ve rather died than pull back. Her forehead clashed with yours, the two of you panting against each other.

“My love, your lips feel even better than before. Have you been practicing what I taught you?” Seeing you nod only angered her further. You were hers, not anyone else’s. How could anyone think they could do that with her girl?

“With who? Who did you kiss, baby?” She thought of everyone it could’ve been. Was it Kate? Carol? Steve? Bucky? Peter-

“Wanda. I kissed Wanda.” Her nostrils flared, lips closing in a tight-lipped smile. You studied her facial expressions, you knew she wasn’t happy.

“That bitch. She thinks she can touch my girl? She thinks she can kiss my girl? Did she touch you? Did she fuck you?” You shook your head quickly, watching as she now paced around the room, filled with anger. She stopped dead in her tracks hearing your soft voice,

“No, daddy, I kept them for you, just like you said.” She faced you this time, walking up to you with pure gentleness. You leaned into her hand placed on your cheek, giving it a small kiss before resting your head on her fingers.

“Good girl, such a good girl for daddy. Did you do what I told you with your pillow?” She had asked you to rub your sweet cunt on the fabric anytime you needed her, but you were too scared to do a thing. You were too afraid that somebody would see, that Nat would see.

“N-no, I didn’t.” She blew out a small breath before running her hands across your body, feeling the curves and soft, lotion-covered skin. Her wandering hands found their way to your round breasts, palming them with slight harshness. She let out a small moan when hearing you whimper from the painful grasps.

“Were you nervous? Scared your daddy would catch you?” You didn’t know who she was referring to, herself or your father. But, you shook your head anyways,

“No? Then what was it? Why were you so scared, baby?” The hem of your shorts were played with as she slowly pulled the fabric down, your hips moving upwards to help her take them off. You were left in your drenched panties. You felt two digits slowly play with your clit through your underwear, you froze. This was wrong. So wrong.

“Nat, we can’t do this. You’re basically my sister-“

“Step-sister. And it’s not wrong, many of my friends do it with their step siblings too.” She firmly corrected you, hoping you’d believe her lie. None of her friends even liked their new families. But you were different, you were impossible not to play with and tease. The innocent glances you give her, knowing they’re nothing close to it makes it almost impossible not to bend you over the dining table. She wishes you both were under different circumstances, so she could show you off to everyone saying you’re hers. But for now, she’ll just have to touch you in private.

“Do-do they actually?” She only nodded for an answer, watching as you started to calm down a bit. She never liked lying, but she’d do anything for you.

“All of them. They play with their friends sweet little pussy’s, just like I’m gonna do to you.” Your legs were forcefully pried open, your wet folds being left on display as the cold air hit you, causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin. She tried to stop herself, but she had to have a taste. Her head was shoved into your cunt as her tongue played around with your clit, occasionally dipping in your hole to tease you. Her eyes stared into your own, seeing yours flutter shut as your mouth dropped open.

“Oh- Nat! That feels so- fucking good!” Her hand came crashing down on your thigh, her face leaning back as you tried to chase after the feeling once more.

“No fucking swearing, Y/N. Did your dad never teach you your manners? Aww, don’t worry, daddy will teach you everything you need to know.” You hoped she’d continue to eat you out, but she only sat next to you again. You were on the verge of tears, begging her to finish you off until you felt the pads of her fingers touching you again. She held your figure in her arm as the other traveled to your throbbing cunt. You were clenching around nothing, fuck it got her so turned on. Everything about you got her so unbelievably horny. She just wanted to fuck you and never stop, wanted you to feel every inch of her every second of the day.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, my love, I need to. I need to just finger this tight little pussy!” You felt two digits slide into you, your walls wrapping around them immediately. She let out a loud moan when feeling your warmth. It was heaven.

“Oh- shit! Your sweet fucking cunt is so goddamn precious, and all mine. You’re all fucking mine, every inch of you.” She didn’t care for the painful stretch it might bring you, she just needed to feel you. She moved your body so you sat facing her, your legs spread wide open as she towered over you. She needed to taste you again, she was addicted. You were like a drug to her, she couldn’t get enough. Her mouth returned to your swollen clit, sucking the hardened bud in her mouth. You were a moaning mess, clutching onto anything you could see as your legs shook.

“God, you taste so good! Can never get enough of you, I need you every single minute. You’re the best toy I’ve ever had, so pure and innocent. I’m the first to touch this pussy, aren’t I?” You nodded along with her words, trying to speak until a loud moan took over you.

“Yes! Yes, you’re the first and only!” She smiled into you, the thought of you being hers made all her fears go away. The fear of you liking Wanda. The fear of you just wanting sex. The fear of losing you. And the fear of your parents catching you. She couldn’t care at that moment, all she wanted to do was make you cum.

“Daddy, I feel weird.” You didn’t understand this feeling, you’ve never even had an orgasm.

“It’s alright, you’re going to cum, baby. You remember what I showed you with those two girls on that video?” You racked your brain for what she was talking about, finally remembering exactly what she was insisting.

“Yeah, w-when those two girls were grinding on each other. And then that girl- came!” The last word was shouted out, the sensation becoming too unbearable to hold in.

“I think I’m gonna-“ She cut you off, “Shh, I know, I know. Do it for me, cum for daddy.” You felt like you were going to pee, you hoped that was normal. Splashes of your juices sprayed the woman’s face, covering her in your slick.

“Fuck, daddy, I’m so sorry!” Your breathing wasn’t calmed, but you felt too bad. She shook her head and continued to lick your cunt, grabbing every drop in her mouth.

“Kitten, you taste so good! Have you ever tasted yourself?” Were you supposed to? Isn’t that weird? Reading your expression, she used her fingers to show deep into your mouth. You choked slightly, the sudden shock making it harder to focus on doing it right. You wanted to impress her, show her you were better than those other girls.

“Good girl, so good! Can't wait for this to be my strap, I’d love to make you swallow every last drop of my cum.” You gave her your best doey eyes as her other hand traveled into her pants. She circled her clit, picturing it was you. All the times she’d fuck herself, all she could think about was you. You and your sweet panties that she’d steal only to put them back covered in her cum. She never thought she’d be such a fucking pervert, but you made her this way. You made her want to go to any extent to have you, even if she had to remove that whore from your life. No matter what she had to do to have you, she’d do it. And she’d make sure everyone would know you’re hers, no matter what.

[nikki-steele]

This is why we listen to Daddy

I've been a bad girl lately, you warned me what would happen if I didn't stop and I didn't listen, so really it's all my fault what's about to happen to me.

You've tried to help me, you really have. You've spanked my ass raw with your hand, when that didn't work you moved on to the belt and then the whip. You're trying so hard to make sure I've learned my lesson, you can't have me misbehaving and making you look bad, I am only a reflection of you and how well you've trained me after all.

"I don't like hurting you princess, but you have to learn somehow," tonight's punishment will be different, you've already told me, that doesn't help the anticipation.

I'm laying across your lap, my bare bottom on full display to you, which you have already taken full advantage of and turned a bright shade of red.

"Are you ready?" I'm not, but I nod anyways, it's not like my answer will make a difference either way. I hear the click of the bottle lid, and feel the cool gel as it lands on my skin, but that doesn't prepare me for the feeling that comes next.

First it's your fingers, pumping into my ass nice and slow, one at a time, slowly stretching it out. You wouldn't bother if you thought the massive plug you had in your plans for the night would fit into my tight little asshole without any kind of prep.

"There's a reason I tell you to do the things I do. It's for your own good, princess." My little hole is stretched just enough and you squirt even more lube inside before grabbing the massive plug and placing its tip at the entrance.

You start slowly inserting it, at first it isn't bad but as it gets to the largest point I begin to squirm and cry.

"This wouldn't hurt nearly as much if you'd been prepping yourself all week like I told you to." You're unrelenting no matter how much I cry and beg. For a while you just let it sit there at the widest point, not moving it anywhere. Then you push and pull on it just enough that it pulls at my little hole but doesn't move the plug, before eventually slipping the massive plug into place.

Once the plug is in place, you quickly deliver several slaps to my now full ass, making sure to hit the plug on each strike. When you're finished, you stand me up and pull my miniskirt back down, it's one you picked where my ass hangs out the bottom.

"Hmm, something's missing," you take a look over my body trying to determine what it could be. You chose my outfit for tonight, a white button down shirt with no bra, you wanted my hard nipples on full display through the fabric. Tight miniskirt that doesn't even cover me entirely, thigh high socks and a pair of tennis shoes. You did my hair in pigtails to make me extra embarrassed and my makeup makes me look like a cheap whore.

"Ah, I think I know what it is." You have me bend over your lap once again, this time taking the panties I was wearing earlier and shoving them into my pussy. "There we go, now you're ready."

You help me stand and survey me one more time before nodding in approval.

"Now, go and apologize to our guests and tell them why you're late."

[silent-stories]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘

Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader

Summary: One night you hear a noise and go to check, finding your neighbor talking to stray cats.

Warnings: a bit of fluff

It was late at night, but since you couldn't sleep, you were sitting on the picnic table in front of the trailer where you lived with your family.

Looking up to the sky you could see stars shining in the sky and some bats flying in circles.

You had always liked night and the calm atmosphere that created when everyone went to sleep and silence fell, you felt more at ease at night.

Just as you were about to go back inside, you heard a voice coming from behind one of the trailers. The Munson trailer, you recognized.

You and Eddie were in same math class but he'd only shown up twice since the beginning of the year, he'd taken a seat at the back of the class and you were pretty sure he'd spent the entire hour doing something else than paying attention.

Drawing, reading or preparing the next D&D campaign, maybe.

You'd never talked to Eddie, even though he was friends with Dustin and Mike,the kids you had babysat for years when they were younger, and even though he lived only a few feet away from you, but not for the same reason that most people at school didn't.

You knew what they said about him, that he was the leader of a satanic cult, that he made human sacrifices and that he was a "freak" but you never really believed it. Mostly because you were sure Dustin wasn't part of a cult but also because Eddie seemed like a good guy despite what everyone else at school (and in all Hawkings) thought.

Dustin once told you that Eddie was one of the only people who was nice to him at school, besides you.

You jumped off the table and headed for the source of the sound. You put a hand against the wall of the trailer and peered behind it to see what was going on.

The scene you faced was honestly some of the cutest shit I've seen in your entire life.

Eddie was sitting on the ground, lit by the dim light from a streetlight not far from him, a black and white cat was clambering onto his lap as Eddie ran his ringed fingers through its fur with a grin on his face.

He wore a red flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows showing the tattoos on his arms, and dark jeans.

His hair fell to the sides of his face as he leaned towards the cat, clearly he hadn't heard or seen you coming.

"Hey sweety" he said while the cat was purring "I'm sorry but today for you I only have some pizza crusts, tomorrow morning I'll bring you something else okay?"

You noticed the plastic plate containing the remains of what had probably been Eddie's dinner lying on the ground. In that moment another cat popped out from behind Eddie's back and rubbed against his arm emitting a soft "meow".

That one was much smaller than the other, he couldn't have been more than a few months old. The fur on its ears was so long for such a small cat that it looked like he had a pair of little horns.

“Hi to you too,” Eddie chuckled as his other hand stroked the space between its ears.

You didn't even realize you were standing there and watching the scene with a stupid smile on your lips.

The way a person treats animals says so much about them and at that moment Eddie was telling you that he were the least scary person on the face of the earth. And that he was sweet.

"That's cute." You said, finally getting his attention.

Eddie's head snapped in your direction and he suddenly leapt to his feet, nearly knocking the orange cat off his knees.

"Hey, uhm...I...." He stammered scratching the back of his head with one hand, almost as if he was embarrassed.

Oh. Was Eddie Munson embarrassed?

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"I heard a sound and came to see what was going on." You explained and he just nodded like a kid caught stealing candy.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone that the tough and metal Eddie Munson talks to cats." You added, and when he looked up and saw you laughing, he did the same.

The black and white cat walked towards you and rubbed against your leg. You crouched down to pet it.

"They don't have a house, or a family" Eddie explained. "And so they have no food. These two aren't the only ones, I know there are at least four others in this area. I try to leave as much food as possible back here but a lot of times I don't have enough for all of them."

They don't have a house, or a family, he tought. They were a bit like him, maybe that was why he cared so much for them.

When you took your hand away from the cat, he pushed his muzzle back against it. Eddie chuckled and you realized you liked the sound of his laugh.

"That's very nice of you. Do they have names?"

"I call her Ozzy." He said pointing to the cat next to you.

The black spots around the cat's eyes really looked like the dark glasses the Black Sabbath singer always wore, you realized.

Her name was spot on.

"And this is Angus" He nodded at the smaller cat who approached you and sniffed your hand reluctantly.

"Hi Angus." You said as he nibbled on your finger.

Eddie laughed as you tried to take your hand away from him.

"You have such cute little horns" you talked to the kitten, "And you're almost as small as the real Angus."

Eddie's face basically lit up. "There's no way you got the reference!"

"Ozzy Osbourne with his glasses and Angus Young with horns and his small stature? Try something harder."

If it was possible, Eddie smiled even more. "I didn't know you liked that kind of music."

"There are many things you don't know about me. We've never talked before." You said.

"Well, I'd like to do it more from now on. You're not what I thought." He confessed.

"And what did you think?" You asked.

"That you were like the others at school. But you're not." He said. Henderson wasn't wrong about you, after all.

"Did you think I was like the cheerledears? Should I be offended?" You asked, but your tone was playful. "Do you think they would dress like this?" You pointed to the ripped jeans that you had quickly put on before going out that night and the boots that you hadn't even zipped up.

He raised his hands in apology. "I humbly apologize, m'lady. Even the best make mistakes sometimes."

You laughed. "Well, you are as I thought." You said.

"Scary?" He asked, his voice changed slightly in tone. Most people think that of him at school. And not just at school. He knew how even in town people talked about him and sometimes he just pretended he didn't care about it.

You shook your head. "A good person."

The smile on his lips was back.

That's not metal. That's not metal at all, Eddie thought.

He'd been caught talking to cats, and now he was smiling like a stupid at a girl he barely knew.

No, definitely not metal. But that didn't stop him.

You stood up picking up Ozzy who was still on top of you and deposited her on the ground.

"I think we should go to sleep now. It must be almost 1 a.m." You announced as you watched the cats approach the plate of pizza crusts.

Eddie looked at the watch on his wrist. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"Well, then... see you in math class, if you'll ever decide to show up."

"Maybe, sooner or later." he shrugged. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Night, Eddie." You walked up to your trailer and Eddie followed you with his eyes, you gave him one last look to see he was still smiling slightly, before going back inside.

That night, in your bed, the last thing on your mind before falling asleep was: you heard Eddie Munson call a cat "sweety".

In his bed Eddie thought maybe now he had a good reason to show up for math class.

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 4.1

This is embarrassing but I'm actually so obsessed with the first five minutes of this episode that I've got it bookmarked in my YouTube account. It's just so perfect!

“Say you don't looooove him, my salamander. Then why did you neeeeeeed him? Ono don't answer.” He genuinely thinks need and love are the same and I really hope he's got therapy for that messed up mindset by now.

Officially honored as the most successful musical composer and recording artist of all time. That damn well better be mentioned in his movie. And people still don't take him seriously. But also. John definitely smashed his TV.

I'm screaming. I love Linda the promoter so fucking much!! Interviewer: I knew a lot of your records had went gold and platinum and– Linda: a lot of them? All of them! Ugh I wish she was still with him now.

And then THIS! “What really happened between you and John?” As the first notes to “I Will Survive” play. It's too good. Everyone has to go watch that bit right now.

Linda coming in for the kill again with her fake posh accent: critics? Critics? Oooooh! … They're always three years behind.

Look at him (to the tune Bitch by Meredeth Brooks) he's a whore, he's a father, he's a star, he's a success, he's a lover he's smug, he's laughing, he's having fun, he's working hard. He's everything.

Interviewing Wings concert goers and this one girl goes, "oh I just got off on all of it" and another one goes “It was great, i came twice!” Literally it should've been me!!!!

The McCartneys are seriously such a big family. And it's been Paul's responsibility since was about 21, really, to make sure they're all okay financially. That Francie story of him crumbling in the street in Liverpool haunts me.

"Why shouldn't they go to the same school as everyone else goes to?" State schools should be the only legal schools btw.

I love what the creator does to contextualize their songs by pairing them with other contemporary footage. It makes it much easier for me to understand why something like “arrow through me” (which I love but none of the people I've shown it to do) would've been so popular.

Oh here we go again. Just show us the marriage certificate already.

Cackling at the contrast between “Old Siam Sir” which is one of my all time fav rockers and footage of the Stones being cringe AF and Dylan being so beyond done he's basically dead.

Oh. Okay. And then they slap us in the face with John's poor baby late 70s demo voice crooning, “Don't want your looooove. Anymore.” “I die each time I hear your name.” I'm fine. It's fine. I'm just vomiting my guts out because I'm sick. That's why.

The pairing of “Mr H Atom” with Paul's would've-been drag show is genius, but what is that clip of some sort of trial stuck in there? If anyone knows, please inform me. (16:15)

John sounds so sad talking about the “endless search for . . . Scotland . . . Within an hour of New York.” I can't help thinking of the Mull of Kintyre. But John was also the one who turned Paul on to Scotland in the first place, ≈always waxing poetic about the heather and the hills≈.

Sean is so adorable. Reminds me of my little guy a bit actually.

Why do I always want to tell Paul to be nice to John? John is worse to him. Idk maybe because John's pain is more visible.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Teach Me Tonight

Part of my 900 Followers Celebration!

Request: Congrats on the 900, love reading your work! Can I request “Okay, maybe I have a crush on you! So what?”  with Roy.

Roy Kent x Teacher!Reader

1.5k words

Warnings: Language, mentions of Ms. Bowen, Roy being a flirt, Reader getting embarrassed

Author's Note: I've had Roy with a teacher stuck in my head for a while now. No reason of course. None at all. Totally not because I'm a teacher.

The clock seemed to move so slowly as you sat at your desk, ignoring the spelling test you should be marking. The kids were all gone for the day, and you were waiting for your meeting, your last task before you could head home for the day.

Phoebe had, once again, gotten into a fistfight. And, once again, it meant calling home to set up a meeting.

You checked your watch; yep, the clock on the wall was right, which meant Phoebe’s mum was incredibly late. With a sigh, you began packing up your things, figuring you’d send her mum a quick message asking to reschedule. Yes, in a half hour you’d be on your couch with a glass of wine and the romance novel that was sitting on your coffee table. Your mind wandered to your fridge, trying to figure out what you could scrounge up for dinner-

“Fuck, sorry I’m late.”

Oh, no. Not him.

Phoebe’s uncle burst into the room, clad in that leather jacket he always wore and a deep frown on his face. Truly, you shouldn’t have been so unhappy at the sight of him; you’d met Roy Kent quite a few times now, sometimes chatted a little during drop-off and pickup, and he was always very nice, although he often required reminders about his language when the kids were around. At the start of the year, he sincerely encouraged you to reach out to him if you ever needed anything, something you were terrified of taking him up on.

He was Roy Kent, after all. Gorgeous and famous. And besides that, you’d heard murmurings about Ms. Bowen’s awkward interactions with him last year; there was no way you were going to subject yourself to that. No thank you.

Still, you couldn’t help but smile as he shuffled towards your desk, embarrassed half-smirk on his face. You quickly grabbed a chair and placed it next to your desk, always amused to see adults sitting in chairs meant for eight-year-olds. Especially when that adult was a muscular ex-footballer.

“My sister got pulled into a last-minute surgery,” he explained, a tad breathless. “Got here as fast as I fucking could.” He seemed to remember where he was. “Shit, sorry.” He glanced around. “There any kids hanging around?”

You shook your head with a laugh. “You’re fine. Just don’t let Mrs. Selig hear you, though.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to miss training because I’ve got a fucking detention.” He leaned forward, his face becoming serious. “Now, what did Pheebs do this time?”

Unlike most parents, Phoebe’s adults were very self-aware. You liked that. “Well,” you started, glancing down at your notes. “Apparently, she overheard Harold making fun of Abby for not doing so well on a maths test. And Phoebe originally just told him to stop, and when he shoved Pheobe and told her to stay out of it, she relieved him of two of his baby teeth.” You offered a half-grimace, half-smile. “The girl’s got a mean right hook.”

Roy laughed, a sound you didn’t quite expect. “Well, fuck. What’s the punishment then?”

“Missing recess for the rest of the week.”

His eyebrows flew up. “That’s it? She just has to miss a few days of fucking jump rope and hopscotch?”

You nodded. “I went to the headmistress and explained that Phoebe was defending a friend, and that Harold was really the one who escalated things. And she agreed that really, Phoebe just needs a reminder to, you know, not hit people.” You tapped your desk. “Just, if you could, chat with her. No knocking people’s teeth out, no matter how awful they’re being to your friends. And that she should let an adult know if someone’s acting prickish. Believe it or not, some of us know how to handle that sort of thing.” You shrugged. “That’s about it.”

“Wow. Easiest conference I’ve ever come to,” he laughed, leaning back in his chair. “Guess you can get home to your husband, then.”

Your face warmed. “No husband,” you replied. “No wife. No boyfriend. No girlfriend.”

“Sugar daddy?”

Thank God you weren’t drinking anything, otherwise it would’ve come out your nose. “D’you think I’d be here if I had one of those?” you joked.

His smile made your chest tighten. “True.” He glanced around. “Mind if I take a peek?” He pointed at the wall where you had students’ writing displayed.

“Oh. Um, yeah, go for it.”

You watched him walk over to the bulletin board, amused by the slow, intentional way he looked at each child’s paper. He perked up when he saw Phoebe’s.

“They wrote about the person they admire most,” you explained as you left your desk to join him. “Pheebs wrote about you, of course.”

He gave a little hum as his eyes skimmed the paper. “Don’t know if I deserve that.”

“From what I hear, you do,” you assured him, feeling bold enough to bump him with your shoulder. “She basically worships you.”

His voice was low. “She’s an idiot.”

You grinned. “She’s eight. They’re all idiots.” Your eyes narrowed playfully. “Don’t ever tell anyone I said that, alright? As far as everyone knows, I’m bloody Mary Poppins.”

His eyes wandered over your face. “Your secret’s safe with me.” He strolled over to the bulletin board where you had your birthday calendar, reminders about upcoming tests and field trips, and copies of flyers for parents. He looked at each item carefully before pointing at one particular reminder. “You still need help with Friday’s field trip?”

“I always need help with field trips,” you answered, crossing your arms. “But I’m sure you have training-”

“I can be there.”

You blinked a few times, not sure how to respond to the quickness of his answer mixed with the soft way he looked at you. “You want to get on a hot bus with two dozen eight-year-olds and go to the zoo with them? Make sure everyone gets their lunch and no one wanders into the lions’ enclosure?”

He shrugged, ears beginning to tinge pink. “You just said you need help. I’d like to help you.”

Not I want to spend the day with Phoebe. Not Hey, good excuse to call off work, like some parents you knew would say. Nope, it was I’d like to help you.

Suddenly your throat was far too dry and Roy Kent was standing far too close to you. “Oh. Thank you, then.”

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” He leaned against the wall, the very picture of attractive.

Damn, there was a lot you’d like his help with. And none of it was appropriate for the classroom.

Instead of saying that, of course, you shook your head. “I know you’re a busy man, Coach Kent, there’s honestly no need-”

“You can call me Roy.”

Oh hell.

He continued. “Y’know, at the start of the year I told you could ask me for help. And I haven’t received a single fucking email, but I heard Abby’s mum gets called all the time to help out.” He raised his eyebrows, clearly just trying to give you a hard time. “Hardly seems fair to me. Is it because I’m a man? Because that’s kind of sexist, y’know.”

God, he was so freaking charming when he teased.

“No, it’s not that-”

He leaned closer, clearly enjoying watching you squirm. “What is it then? You a West Ham fan or something? Don’t want a Greyhound in your classroom?” His eyes flickered to your lips for the tiniest fraction of a second. “Couldn’t be because I make you nervous or anything, right?”

His brown eyes broke down every barrier of professionalism you had. “Okay, maybe I have a crush on you, so what?” Immediately your hands flew to your mouth, your face burning with embarrassment. “Fuck. Wait, no, I-”

“Excuse me, please no swearing in the classroom.” His voice was full of teasing as he gazed down at you. Slowly, he took your hands and brought them away from your face. When he saw the absolute terror in your eyes, his smirk disappeared. “Hey, wait. Fuck, are you alright?”

You shook your head, a lump forming in your throat. “I shouldn’t have said that,” you whispered. “It was, um, impulsive and unprofessional and childish and-”

“And exactly what I wanted to hear.”

His words bounced around in your head. “I’m sorry?”

His face was no longer teasing or concerned; it was bashful. “Why d’you think I want to help in the classroom so badly? I need a fucking excuse to be near you.” He still held your hands, his grip softening. “But I’m sure you’re not supposed to date parents-”

“You’re not a parent.” The words flew out of your mouth before you could even think about them.

Amusement returned to those handsome features. “Uncles are alright, then?”

“Only if they’re really grumpy and swear a lot.”

When he smiled, you felt sure your heart was going to explode out of your chest. “Well in that case, how about Friday, after the zoo? I’m sure you’ll need a fucking drink.”

In spite of your nerves, you nodded, not caring about looking cool or coy or aloof. “That would be lovely. Thank you, Coach Kent.”

He gave your hands a small squeeze before letting go and backing away. “I told you, call me Roy.” He gave a small salute as he made his way to the door. “See you Friday then.”

“See you Friday, Roy.”

[honeyedmiller]

Fate, After All | Joel Miller — Part One

warnings: pure fluff, a and a teensy bit of cursing. No use of y/n.

word count: 2.3k

series masterlist

-

You sigh as you begrudgingly look down at your watch-clad wrist for what seems like the hundredth time in twenty minutes.

Forty five fucking minutes late.

Unbelievable.

You scoff to yourself as you close your eyes, trying your best not to lose it in the middle of this restaurant. Yet again, another failed blind date.

You had no fucking idea why you kept accepting these invitations from your mother, because each and every one of them have turned out to be a complete disaster.

This one didn't even bother to show.

You can't believe you actually took the time to look presentable for this date—wearing some makeup that defined your naturally beautiful features, doing your hair up real nice, picking out your favorite baby blue halter-top sundress to wear, and even wearing your fancy perfume that was only reserved for special occasions.

How could you be so foolish? Why'd you think this time was going to be any different?

It's not like your mom did this on purpose. You knew she only had the best intentions when it came to setting you up on these blind dates, but they always never went smoothly.

Your mom felt bad that you were the only one out of your siblings who wasn't married and didn't have children. Sure, you could get lonely at times, but when shit like this happened, it was just a constant reminder of how pathetic your dating life was.

It was times like this that you'd dramatically come to accept that you may be alone forever.

You were just about to get up from your seat after leaving the server a ten dollar tip for wasting their time and taking up a table, until a voice called your name.

Your head snapped in that direction, eyes settling on a tall, tan, handsome man. He looked so familiar, but you couldn't put your finger on where you'd seen him before.

"Yes?" You say back, eyes wide with astonishment. You swallow nervously, your throat suddenly dry.

Was he your blind date?

Surely not, he didn't look dressed for a date. He wore a soft looking gray t-shirt that clung to his biceps and dark wash denim jeans that seem to fit his thick thighs perfectly.

What a hunk.

"Wow, it's been so long since I've seen you." He chuckles as he approaches you, the smile on his face bright.

Your confused look had his smile faltering a bit, and you step back in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Your shyness suddenly overcomes you, rightfully so.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I forget it's been like, what, fifteen years? It's Joel. Joel Miller." His smile returns to his face as he sees the gears turning in your head, the little lightbulb going off.

"Miller? No way! How are you?" You laugh, bringing him in for a hug. You'd been good friends with Joel in high school, but sadly lost touch after you moved out of state to go to college.

"Good! Good. In the contracting business, as promised." You grin at him, always remembering that he loved to build the most intricate things from scratch.

"That's amazing to hear. You look good. I swear I didn't recognize you." You laugh as he mocks being offended.

"Thank you, sweetheart. You do too. All grown up now." He chuckles, stuffing his hands in the front pocket of his jeans. His eyes naturally skate over your figure, really loving the way that blue sundress hugged your curves.

Your stomach fluttered at the old nickname. Joel used to call you sweetheart in school all the time. It was his special nickname just for you.

"Couldn't help but notice you were all alone," His grin doesn't reach his eyes, probably in empathy, "Were you waiting for someone?" His head tilts a little to the side, and an inevitable blush creeps across your cheeks.

It's embarrassing enough to be stood up, but to admit it? Out loud? Mortifying. But, you knew Joel was a sweet person—or at least, he used to be. Worst he could do was laugh about this to your face.

"Um, I was, yeah, but they never showed." Your gaze hits the floor as the reminder of how your love life was a shit show hit you all over again.

"You got stood up?" His voice is soft, laced with concern as his eyebrows furrow.

You offer him the smallest of smiles before nodding.

"Well to hell with them, they're missing out on a wonderful person," He starts, a hand moving from his pocket to your arm. His touch was warm and inviting, and it sent tingles down your spine. "I was gonna get takeout anyway from here, just for myself. Did you wanna get some and maybe join me back at my place?"

His offer makes you subtly perk up, but even he noticed it. The scene before him made him smile.

"I don't want to be an intrusion." You say, but he's already shaking his head.

"You're not, sweetheart. I was offering. Plus, I'd love the company. It's just me at my house tonight." And with that, you knew you couldn't refuse his offer.

-

You followed Joel back to his house in your car, butterflies going wild in your stomach the whole time. You always had a major crush on Joel back in high school, and seeing him as a grown man that had clearly aged like fine wine was the cherry on top of the damn ten-tier cake.

God, pull yourself together, you scolded yourself as you parked on the street in front of Joel's house. It was a nice neighborhood with quaint houses; ones that looked like they belonged on a friendly neighborhood magazine.

You stepped out of your car and met Joel in his driveway as he parked his truck, grabbing the bag of food he insisted he'd pay for.

So, instinctively, you told him you'd get him next time around, and his heart secretly flipped with joy at the mention of next time.

"Beautiful home you have." You comment to him as he rustles with his keys, finding the right one to unlock his front door with.

"Thank you, darlin'." He grins at you as he opens the door, motioning you to walk in before him. You thank him softly as you walk into the two-story home, admiring how cozy and warm it looked.

There were plenty of pictures on the wall, slightly worn but beautiful furniture pieces adorning the room before you, and the smell of teakwood lingering in the air.

You took a closer look at a photo hung up adjacent to you on the wall, seeing it consisted of Joel, a younger man probably in his mid to late twenties, a young girl, and two elderly people all matching and smiling at the camera. You admired how they all displayed genuine smiles that actually reached their eyes in the photo.

"Cute picture." You nod your head to the frame, Joel coming back to you from setting down the bag of food on the coffee table in the living room just before you.

He chuckles softly and reaches to scratch the back of his neck, a nervous habit you could tell he had.

"Thank you. 'S my parents, daughter and brother." He explains, and your eyes widen.

"Wait, that's Tommy? No way." You let out a loud laugh, making Joel's heart do those damn flips again.

Just like his brother, Tommy was almost unrecognizable. Your eyes run over his daughter's face once more, bringing a soft smile to your lips.

"Your daughter is beautiful," You look up at Joel, then back to the picture, "She has your eyes." You almost consider asking him if her mom was in the picture, but obviously she wasn't if Joel has you here with him tonight. You sweep the pressing matter to the back of your mind, Joel's touch on your lower back distracting you.

"Let's go eat our food." He guides you to the dining room and pulls out a chair for you. He retrieves the food from the coffee table and brings it to you, and goes to his cupboard to pull out a glass.

"Would you like some wine?" He offers, and you eagerly nod. You definitely needed a drink after the day you've had. Not to mention, it'll ease your damn erratic nerves. Joel made you nervous even 'til this day, and maybe it was his southern charm or dark brown eyes that you could easily get lost in, but it was driving you fucking nuts.

He pulled out a beer from the fridge for himself after pouring you a glass of wine, bringing both beverages back to the table. You thank him as you take the glass, clinking your glass with his bottle to cheers.

"Thanks for saving me from complete embarrassment back at the restaurant." You laugh, shaking your head. You take the first bite of your food, humming in delight at how good it was.

"Was it a blind date or somethin'?" He asks, his curiosity piqued. You slowly nod in embarrassment and shame, barely even wanting to admit it.

"Yeah. My mom has this whole thing in her head that because I'm the only one out of my siblings that isn't married, doesn't have kids, or isn't even seeing someone, that I need to be kept company and I need to 'not be lonely'." You air quote your mom's words, pulling an eye roll from you.

Joel chuckles and shakes his head, "I know what you mean. My mom's been buggin' me about puttin' myself out there again. Sh'says it's been too long for me, since Sarah's mother left."

"Oh, Joel, I'm sorry." Your sincere condolences don't skip past him, but he shakes his head.

"It was a long time ago. I've moved on. Been on a few dates here n' there, but never genuinely clicked with anyone. I think I've forgotten how to date." His boisterous laugh fills the room; an infectious one that had you giggling yourself.

"It's been a long time since I've felt a spark with someone, for sure." You nod your head in agreement, taking a sip of your wine. Joel's eyes linger on you for a second longer, and you blush underneath his stare.

He lets out a small chuckle, "Wanna know something crazy?" He asks, looking at you with gentle eyes.

"Hmm?"

"I used to have the biggest crush on you in high school." He confesses, and it nearly causes you to choke on your food as your eyes widen.

"Wait, what?" Your voice is meek, and again, he scratches the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I just never did anything about it because I was always out of your league. Tommy'd always push me to ask you out on a date, but I was too much of a chicken to do it. Then I found out you were moving away after high school, so I kinda just pushed it to the back of my mind. Truthfully thought I'd never see you again." There's a lightness in his voice that makes your heart melt at his confession.

"Y'should've. I would've said yes." You feel like a giddy high schooler again with this new information you've given and reciprocated.

"Are you serious?" He laughs, groaning as he tilts his head back, "No way."

"Absolutely. I had the biggest crush on you, Miller. I'm surprised you didn't know. I thought it was pretty obvious."

"Maybe that's why Tommy pushed me so much to ask you out." He sighs, grinning down at his plate of food.

"Maybe." And then it was a comfortable silence. You two finished your food, relishing in the thought of what could've been. Everything definitely happens for a reason, though.

After you two cleaned up, he offered to make some popcorn so you two could watch a movie. He showed you his rather massive VHS collection, and you chose Jurassic Park. He popped the movie in the VCR before plopping himself next to you on the couch, draping a blanket over both of your laps.

He rewinded the movie to the beginning, and you two snuggled in quickly. You couldn't help but think about the domesticity of this, and truthfully, this is something you wouldn't mind getting used to.

Throughout the movie, Joel subtly kept moving closer to you, until eventually his arm found its way over your shoulder as he pulled you in close to him. Your heart swelled at his warm embrace, so content that you truly didn't want this night to end soon.

You felt Joel's eyes on you about halfway into the movie, and your gaze shifted to his. A small smile crept up on your lips, your heartbeat picking up as you finally noticed the small proximity between the both of you.

"You're so beautiful, y'know that?" Joel whispers to you, moving a hand to tuck some loose hair behind your ear. He rested his palm against your cheek, and you instantly melted into his touch. Though his hands were calloused and a bit rough, his touch was so gentle, so sweet.

"Wish we could've met again sooner." You quietly admit, closing your eyes briefly. They flutter open again when his thumb swipes back and forth against your cheekbone.

"Me too, darlin'." He leans in slowly, nose brushing against yours before his plush lips found your own.

The kiss was soft, sweet, and gentle—everything you'd hoped kissing Joel Miller would be like. He exceeded those expectations by a lightyear.

You both reluctantly pulled back from the sweet moment, your lips tingling and suddenly cold from the loss of contact.

"By the way, you were never out of my league, Joel." You whisper to him, and he smiles at you before leaning in once more to give you a kiss that you'll never want to forget.

For once, you were so grateful that a blind date didn't work out the way you expected it to.

Fate has a funny way of working itself out, after all.

[mpsansy]

A View In The Garden

Idk what the heck to title this, I haven't written a fanfic in such a long long time :P

Also this has been sitting in my drafts for too long and I needed to share it already. So enjoy the bond Casper will have with his uncle Stinkie!

___

There wasn't a breeze out on this late morning. And by the off chance there was, the young spirit wouldn't have felt it anyway. Couldn't really feel most things if he was being honest with himself. Especially the three uncles that were currently resting within the manor.

But that wasn't really important to him right now. What was important, however, was the new greenery that was sprouting up. With a little convincing and pleading, both Casper and Kat were able to create a colorful landscape in the garden. Initially looking otherwise devoid of life before they started.

It was perhaps the one thing that caught one of Casper's uncle's eyes before darting off, as if to play off his interest at the display.

___

Casper, alone for the meantime, was in pure amazement. Previously when looking for flower seeds so many months ago with Kat, Casper with much enthusiasm, picked out the best flowers for the garden. All with no assistance needed from her.

For a moment, it was fascinating for Kat to see his understanding of most of these plants he picked out. They must've really meant something to the boy to have been picked out with no hesitation.

Unfortunately, she wasn't here to enjoy the garden with Casper. Something with applying for some big school, but either way, he was happy for her. She's doing all kinds of different things now. Things he was very happy with listening to from time to time.

___

The child didn't realize how far time had passed until one of his uncle's came from within the manor. He didn't seem to be in such a bad mood himself, because his call for his nephew was at a normal volume. Unlike his other two uncles who could practically rattle bones with their voices.

Casper looked up to face the uncle who called him. A smile plastered on his face.

"Oh! Hey, uncle Stinkie." He called back. Smile still present.

"What's the deal, shortsheet?" Stinkie asked, floating a bit closer to his nephew. "Have you really been out here all this time lookin' at JUST flowers?"

Casper shook his head.

"Not just flowers. There's more things I've been looking at!"

"More?"

"Mhm!"

Color the other ghost curious, cause once he got to where Casper was resting at, he saw it. Bugs. For most that would probably be uninteresting, however for these two? It was something mesmerizing.

"I don't think I've seen these little critters here in a long time." Stinkie commented to Casper. A few bees passing by, landing and collecting pollen from the newly bloomed flowers.

The boy nodded.

"I think because of all the gardening me and Kat have been doing. It got their attention."

All around the two, life was booming. And Casper tried to show his uncle all the different bugs that were appearing left and right. Besides the bees, there were others. Ants, beetles, caterpillars, you name it. It was all there.

Matter of fact, Stinkie had a response to all this. He was talking about all the different types of bugs Casper had listed off. It's benefits to keeping nature going strong. Especially for a garden such as this.

And for some reason, it felt like Casper had already heard this kind of talk from his uncle before. But this is the first time they've really had a normal conversation. So it was strange.

"Uncle Stinkie, how do you know all this stuff?"

"Hm, what do ya mean?"

Casper continued, now feeling a bit embarrassed to have temporary interrupted his uncle's lecture on bugs.

"Well, I've never seen you interested in stuff like this. I mean, it's really nice to hear it! Honestly."

Stinkie couldn't answer that question initially. With turning his head to Casper briefly and then to the ground. Bringing a finger to tap on his chin. Thinking.

Finally came a response.

"Casper, I'll be honest with ya. An' don't tell the others about this. But I think I'm startin' to remember things."

Casper looked confused.

"Remember?"

"Y'know, like, remember things before being a ghost."

"Oh..."

Give it a second.

"OH!!"

There it is.

"Really?!" His voice came out louder than it should've, quickly clamping his mouth shut.

"Really?" Casper asked again, quietly this time.

Stinkie couldn't help but snicker. Soon nodding to the boy. Looking back to the bugs who had not a single clue of the spirits viewing them.

"It's kinda weird. Didn't even know I had a feelin' of recallin' stuff like this before."

"Does Stretch and Fatso know?" Casper asked. "That you're remembering stuff now?"

A pause, followed with Stinkie's head tilting to his nephew.

"Mm, nah. Just happened recently. S'ides, I'm sure they'd be bored outta their minds hearing me ramble about this new discovery. Better to not make a fuss about it."

Guess he's right about that. They were usually just fixated on the TV than sitting down to hear a random fact about a topic Casper was interested in.

Still, he didn't think his own uncle was finding his memories. Something to ask him more about later.

"I like this though." Stinkie commented, breaking his nephew's train of thought. "Just somethin' about it feels sorta. Nice."

Casper couldn't agree more. And was so happy to hear such a thing coming out of his uncle. It felt so sincere. Something that didn't come often with any of them.

"Yeah."

___

"Say, Casper?"

"Yes, uncle Stinkie?"

"Would you be interested in plantin' more flowers here? I can help if you don-"

Stinkie didn't manage to finish his question. Because in that instance, the boy immediately answered.

"Of course you can! I don't mind at all! But... uhm..." There comes the nervous tone in the boy's voice.

"You think uncle Stretch and Fatso would get annoyed by us spending time outside? And me not inside doing chores?"

"Ah, fuck 'em." Oops. That came out by mistake. Nothing he could do other than cover his mouth.

"Uncle Stinkie, language!" Casper said with an exaggerated gasp, pretending to be shocked at the use of his uncle's profanity. Honestly he's heard so much throughout the years that he could put them in a book.

"... I think it'd be nice ta change things up though. But maybe keep it between us. The rememberin' part that is."

"Yeah, right!" Casper with such excitement couldn't help but wrap his arms around Stinkie. And instead of shoving the child off. He let it be. Smiling as he went to pat the top of his nephew's head.

"Let's get back inside though." Casper said, letting go of his uncle and beginning to float up. "I really don't want to hear Stretch screech his head off about how long we were outside."

"Good idea, bulbhead." That comment was all Stinkie said before following his nephew's lead back inside.

Hopefully they would get to have this time again soon.

[chiiyuuvv]

XIKERS LATESTAMPS °

• PAIRING — xikers!bestfriend x reader

• GENRE — basically xikers late hours but I wanted to change the name, clingy, cuddly, fluffy, cute, soft, delulu, single.. you get the point

• WORD COUNT — 927

• AUTHORS NOTE — wanted to take a small break of requests because I've been doing them back to back and it's starting to get a little tiring.. </3 this is actually going to be 'xikers when they think you've fallen asleep' but after writing minjaes I realized it was nowhere near that but I didnt want to start over so yeah, basically xikers late hours pt. 2 but I wanted to change the name, so xikers latestamps ✨ get it? Anyways sorry for rambling but I'm gonna write a imagine that I've been thinking about for a while and then get back to requests.. thank you for request btw!! ♡

MASTERLIST!

Minjae ☆

11:34

You and minjae were watching a movie when he heard you snoring

He looks over at you with a small chuckle before turning off the tv and tossing a blanket over your body

His heart would flutter like crazy has he watches you sleep peacefully, when a strand of hair falls in your face

Would tuck it behind your ear as he let's out a sigh "I dont know what I'd do without you.. I love you so so much."

You could hear him slightly through your dreams as a small smile forms, minjae taking the opportunity to cup your cheeks and lay a soft kiss on it ♡

Junmin ☆

8:40

You and junmin were scrolling through your phones when you fell asleep

Junmin didnt notice at first until he heard the thud of your phone dropping

Picking it up and scooting closer to you, he would take your phone and take a bunch of embarrassing photos of you sleeping

Until he got an idea

"Poppy poppy poppy pop" he'd bounce the camera on your face ♡

Sumin ☆

10:05

Would let out the cutest giggle as he watches you close your eyes 🥺🥺

Makes conversation with you, even though you were asleep

"I think.. I'm in love with you." "You're so pretty and my heart always flutters when you smile."

"Wow.. I'm really in love." He would rest on his arms, looking over at you with the softest smile

Hes scared that you wouldnt like him back, but it didnt matter to him. As long as he had you, he was fine ♡

Jinsik ☆

10:59

"Oh. Did you fall asleep?" Jinsik would smile as he crouches down to your level, a small on his face as he rubs your hair

He would notice that you were shivering, so he got up to find you a blanket

He would also notice how you'd smile ever so slightly, and the smile on his face would get even bigger

Plays with your hair as he watches you sleep, until you start moving

"What's wrong..?" He'd whisper as you slowly open your eyes. "Come sleep with me.." you'd whisper back, holding out your arms to hug you tightly

Which he does, a goofy smile and blush covering his face

Hyunwoo ☆

6:23

Hyunwoo was talking about something and so you decided to prank him

You'd lay down all nice and comfortable before shutting your eyes, pretending like you were sleep

A very pouty baby when he finally notices you "come on.. wake up!!" He'd shake you awake, patting your arms

Would let out a whine when you ignore him, turning his back on you as he crosses his arms "meanie"

But you'd 'wake up', and wrap your hands around his waist, resting your chin on his shoulder as you hug him tightly ♡

Junghoon ☆

9:05

He would get clueless on how you were so energetic one second, then fully knocked out the next second.. but would shrug it off

Lays down next to you as he takes time to admire your sleeping figure, tracing your face with his eyes

Really really wants to touch you, but would get too scared, thinking you would magically wake up and would get angry

That was until he heard you mumbling his name

And would intertwine his hand with yours, falling asleep ♡

Seeun ☆

12:53

You were laying on seeuns lap when you closed your eyes for a little too long

And of course seeun noticed and decided to mess with you

"Paboooo!!" He'd whisper into your ear, lightly blowing on it as he let's out a giggle

Would laugh even more when he sees you frown, before leaving you alone

Leans back on the bed frame as he cards his fingers through your hair, tucking you in more

"I love you!!" He would quickly whisper before scrolling through his phone ♡

Yujun ☆

2:10

You and yujun were laying down face to face. It was 2 in the morning and you were up chatting and laughing

Yujun tells another joke as you laugh tiredly, your eyes closing as you can feel the sleepiness wash over you

Yujun takes notice as he inches towards you "so pretty.." he'd whisper as he'd stare at you

And his gaze would fall to your lips and he feels this type of gravity pushing him to it, softly laying his lips on yours

As he'd pull away your eyes would shoot open as you stare at each other, redder than a strawberry ♡

Hunter ☆

1:26

You were about to pull an all-nighter when you suddenly feel someone wrap their arms around you and pick you up

"Y-yah hunter what are you doing??!" You'd shout as hunter quickly turns off your computer, throwing you onto your bed before hitting you with a pillow

Repeatedly, until you tell him to stop

Would trap you with his body with the goofiest smile on his face, wrapping his arms around you as he buries his head into your neck

But after a few minutes he would toss over and pull you into a big hug, kissing your forehead and rubbing your back as he whispers "goodnight~~" ♡

Yechan ☆

4:12

"Yechan.. yechan-ahh..!!" You'd poke his cheek tiredly, as the two of you are not trying to fall asleep

But it fails as yechan rests his head on your shoulder

"Shh.. j-just do to sleep.." he'd lazily bring his finger to your lips, making you lay your head on his

In which you do, wrapping each others arms around the other for warmth

When you wake up, you would be so blushy and shy ♡