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Eight years have passed since that fateful summer.
The summer that changed him and his sister in ways that would be impossible to explain to anyone who wasn’t there.
You’d think that with the passage of time, some bad memories would have long since faded away. After all, that summer was filled with so many good memories too! When you really think about it, the good greatly outweighs the bad. Mabel always made sure to remind him of that whenever it was a particularly hard day.
But the bad left deep wounds. Wounds Dipper just wasn’t able to fully process at the time. Everything he went through, all the near-death experiences... Bill. They all still plagued him. He still had nightmares about them. About Bill stealing his body again. About him locking him up in a nightmare world made of blood, meat, and gore. About Bill coming back and tormenting him. Sometimes he thought the nightmares were his doing. He was a dream demon, after all. Sometimes he just couldn’t help but think, what if…what if he was manipulating his dreams? Making them as horrific as they were.
It always happened after he woke up from one of them. He always had the worst panic attack. It felt so real every time, and as a result, he'd spend days not sleeping. The paranoia of Bill coming back through his dreams would keep him up. He’d try so hard not to show it, but it was obvious from the dark circles under his eyes and the absolute fatigue he just seemed to carry around himself constantly. Mabel can always tell. She tries her best to reassure him. To remind him that Bill was gone. They defeated him. He has no way of coming back. None.
Dipper knew she was right. This all stemmed from trauma, not a dream demon that’s somehow managing to slip through the cracks of his imprisonment.
Every day, he tried his best to just focus on his studies. Being in college meant he had to make sure he kept up with his academics. Unholy amounts of coffee became one of his greatest companions during his time as a university student. On days where that paranoia was creeping in, clawing at the back of his mind and keeping him from sleeping with the fear of seeing him again, he spent his hours just focused on his books and his school work. At least being productive somewhat kept him grounded most of the time.
Today was different, however. Vacation time has started, so Dipper and Mable both had time off. The two agreed to spend their summer break going back to Gravity Falls. They missed their friends, and they missed their grunkles. In the time after that one summer, they had come to visit during holidays on and off whenever they were able to. The last time they were able to come visit, however, was in early January of last year. It was now July, so it was roughly one and a half years since they’d gone back last. He told Mabel all about how eager he was to see everyone again, hear about Ford and Stan’s adventures and discoveries, and collect data on all the weird for his thesis. These were all true; he wasn’t lying.
He just didn’t tell her that his nightmares had been getting worse.
He didn’t want to worry her.
But they’ve been getting so bad; they’ve become so much more frequent as of late and... bizarre.
As he sat there beside Mabel on the bus, watching the trees pass as they got closer and closer to their destination, his vision blurred slightly with the vibrant green as he no longer focused on what he was looking at. His thoughts took up most of his attention.
And once again, Bill was at the center of most of those thoughts. That statue was still out there, but he never went out looking for it. Not once in any of his visits throughout the years did he ever dare try to find it, not even out of curiosity. He would cast it out of his mind and just focus on having a good time with everyone.
But this time it was like he couldn’t rip away from it. The thought was, in itself, a parasite that he just couldn’t get rid of. He was so lost in it that he didn’t really notice his subtle fidgets. His bouncing leg and how he was biting his nail. Until he felt a shake on his shoulder.
He snapped his head around, Mabel looking back at him with her hand on his shoulder.
“Hey… you okay?" She asked him, her brows were furrowed with concern.
“Yeah…yeah I’m fine.” Dipper tried to offer a reassuring smile as he responded, but Mabel could see the strain.
“You’ve been out of it for a while now…” She frowned.
“It’s nothing; I guess I’ve just been distracted today. You know, I’ve got a lot on my mind with my thesis and all-“
“I don’t just mean today, Dipper.” She cut through his rambling with a tone that was sharp yet gentle at the same time.
Dipper froze up, and Mabel continued.
“You’ve been out of it way more than usual these past few days. Is there something going on? Are you having trouble sleeping again?”
As always, she was pretty spot on in her guesses. Dipper didn’t want her to worry about him, but he also knew she’d catch a blatant lie. “It’s really fine; I’ll be fine. I’m really just stressed about all the work I have to do after break…” a half lie.
Mabel eyed him for a moment before sighing. “If you say so, but you know, you can tell me if there’s anything that’s bothering you.” She then gave his side a playful nudge with her elbow, making Dipper grunt. “Besides, I’m sure you’ll get through all that nerdy school work in no time. Don’t worry about that stuff; it’s vacation time! Right now, what you should be thinking about is how you’re going to ask Pacifica out~” she teased with a wide grin.
Dipper blinked as his cheeks flushed. “Mabel! I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“Oh ho ho~ don’t play coy with me, Romeo~ I’ve seen your texts.” She smirked.
“WHAT?! When did you-“
The bus screeched to a halt as it arrived at their location, interrupting their conversation. Mabel was the first to leap to her feet, excitedly grabbing her bag as well as Dipper’s hand, practically dragging him along.
As they stepped off, Dipper’s eyes landed on those familiar, crooked letters on the roof.
The Mystery Shack.
—
It had been pretty eventful, greeting everyone at the shack. Having his ribs crushed by Soos’ idea of a hug, being head-locked by grunkle Stan as he gave Dipper one of his Stan-sanctioned noogies. Receiving another, far less health-concerning, hug from grunkle Ford and pulling away as the man gave him one of those shoulder pats. It really was good to see everyone. And after they all came back from having dinner at the diner, exhaustion was really hitting Dipper like a truck. It seems Mabel was pretty tired too, because by the time he came into their shared room after his shower and now dressed in his pjs, a pair of comfortable sweat pants, and an old Depeche Mode t-shirt, she was out cold and snoring.
Dipper laughed a bit before he walked up to his own bed on the other side. Little has changed in this room. Really, what ended up changing the most was him. He reached out, switching off the lamp light before laying down on the lumpy mattress with a sigh. He would try to go to sleep. He would try. With a deep breath, he closed his eyes.
Falling asleep was always the hardest part when he was on edge. It was like he could feel every agonizing minute that passed, hyperaware of every second ticking by. He was tossing and turning, groaning as he struggled to relax.
We’ll meet again…
Dipper’s shoulders tensed. What was that?
Don’t know where…
He tried to move. He couldn’t. Laying on his stomach, his arms lay limply at his sides. It was so faint at first, but he could hear it a bit more now.
Don’t know when...
He couldn’t even open his eyes. It was like they were glued shut. He just simply couldn’t move, and he kept hearing something. Was he so damn exhausted that he was starting to hallucinate?! As if nightmares weren’t enough...
A hand slid up his back, and a shudder went through him. He couldn’t move. He didn’t know who that was. But he knew for sure that it wasn’t Mabel.
“Hey there, Pine tree…You’re looking a little stuck there.”
That voice... it was like he was speaking right into his ear, and it was unmistakable who it was.
Bill.
He couldn’t move his lips. He couldn’t speak. It was like his whole body was completely shut down, but his mind was fully awake and fully aware.
"Aww, what was that? I couldn’t quite hear you. Can’t you speak up?”
Dipper felt as that hand slid up his back and suddenly grasped at his hair at the back of his head, lifting it slightly before dropping it unceremoniously.
“Too bad. I guess you need a little bit of help to find your voice~”
The bed dipped, and he could feel as a weight settled around him, or rather over him. He knew it was Bill, yet it felt strange. It sounded like him, but felt like a normal body…human. He couldn’t see him, but he could feel him pressing against him. He was straddling him, and his thighs…they were strong. Held Dipper firm even though he couldn’t move, even if he wanted to.
His breath caught when he felt a pear of hands sliding up his shirt, bunching it up the further they traveled.
This isn’t real.
It’s all in your head. It’s all in your head!
“Look at you~… You’ve sure gotten big, huh?”
He was taunting him. He could tell. But none of that mattered at the moment because he could feel one of his hands traveling down. Lower and lower until it reached the waistband of his sweats.
This couldn’t possibly be going where he thought it was going, right?
But it was, and as that hand circled around his waist and slid past his waist band, a sickening dread pooled in his stomach. He couldn’t react outwardly when he felt a hand, a fully flesh hand wrap around his dick and grope him.
“Humans… always so sensitive. Or maybe it’s just you~… I’ve barely even touched you, and you’re twitching.”
Dipper didn’t know what messed-up reality this was, but he knew he wanted to break free of it. This couldn’t possibly be a hallucination. It was too much. The way he was touching him—this wasn’t at all like the thoughts that tormented him. It was like a new kind of torture.
Get out…please! Get out of my head!
This isn’t real! This can’t be real…
“Don’t worry, pine tree, I know all about the carnal needs of a human body.”
He squeezed at the base of Dipper’s cock and started to jerk him a couple times. It didn’t take long for his own body to betray him and grow hard. Embarrassing.
Bill’s other hand had slid down as well, pushing Dipper’s pants down just enough to expose his supple skin. He was shamelessly groping him. All the while, Dipper couldn’t even move a finger. But his mind was racing desperately, trying to make sense of it. Why was this happening, how? It couldn’t be real, yet it couldn’t just be a hallucination. The rational side, the side that knew that Bill had no way of being here, let alone with a physical human body, was being drowned out by his panic.
All thoughts in his mind came to an abrupt stop when he felt something prodding at his hole. Bill’s finger slipped in, and he took his time doing so. It was nothing Dipper had ever felt before. It felt so foreign and uncomfortable. There was a burn to the stretch, and it only felt worse when Bill started to thrust his finger into him. He wasn’t even slow about it; he didn’t give Dipper’s body any time to adjust to the intrusion. He didn’t give him much time to get used to the one finger either, not long after shoving a second one in.
“You’re so tense; if you don’t relax, I think you might actually break my fingers HA HA…”
It was like a joke to him. As if that were the funniest thing that could happen. It pissed Dipper off.
“Yknow, you’re just not as fun when you’re this quiet... How about I just—“ and suddenly it was like the only part of his body that regained any autonomy was his mouth.
“This isn’t real... This isn’t real…” Was what he murmured first before he blurted out, ”Release me!”
“There he is! I kind of missed the way you whine.“
Before Dipper could form any kind of retort, Bill thrusted his fingers in deep and hard. Sending them straight to his prostate. It made Dipper’s mind go utterly blank as the most humiliating moan escaped him.
“Interesting~…you really are slaves to pleasure~” Bill taunted once again before he delivered onslaught after onslaught of his fingers ramming into that spot every time. He wasn’t giving Dipper a break, let alone a single moment to breathe. It got to a point where his jaw hung slightly open, drool pooling onto the mattress.
He wished it still felt uncomfortable. He wished it still felt unpleasant. This was worse somehow. It felt so good that it sent waves of pleasure from his head to his toes. If he could move, he knew his body would be writhing and twitching with pleasure, his hips bucking as he desperately swallowed those torturous fingers as they fucked him deep.
He’s never even touched himself in such a way before. Sure, he’d handle things and let off some steam when he was in the shower—an occasional quick jerk-off session. He was a healthy young man, after all. But this was beyond anything he’s ever done, let alone felt. He didn’t even know his body could ever feel this intensely. It was almost overwhelming.
As a result, it didn’t take him long at all before he came right against the mattess, making a complete mess in his sweat pants. The release was mind-numbing, and he hadn’t even been touching his cock anymore. He came from his ass being fingered only.
Dipper struggled to think coherently all the while he lay there after coming down from the high of his most intense orgasm ever. He had almost forgotten about the situation. About Bill. Till he felt something slide up between his ass. It was thick, large, and so hot against his skin. And as his fucked-out mind came to the realization as to what it was, it was enough to sober him up.
“E-enough… get…get off…" He tried to demand. Tried so hard to sound at least a little intimidating. But the tremble in his voice really took away any harshness his words would have had.
“Don’t be that way, pine tree~…I’m just getting used to this body. Human pain is hilarious, but human pleasure? I have to put it to the test~”
Dipper let out a gasp as he felt him pushing in. It was quickly becoming clear how underprepared he was to take the entirety of the man’s cock. He hadn’t been prepared nearly enough to handle it with any sort of comfort. It was piercing and felt so much worse than his fingers did at first. He felt as if he would get split open.
“St…Stop…fuck…you’ll tear it!” He cried out desperately.
“You don’t really seem to hate it... You’re greedily twitching around me. You’re so tight, it’s like you’re sucking me right in~”
“Stop…talking!”
“What? I’m only telling the truth, kid. Is it embarrassing? Hearing about how good your greedy little hole is taking my cock? How you might just be loving every second of me plowing your brains out? The way your hips are moving all on their own~?”
Dipper hadn’t even noticed it. Hadn’t even realized that part of his body could move too, or had been moving this whole time. He didn’t know anymore. He didn’t know if it was Bill’s doing or if it truly was him rocking his hips like he’s trying to fuck himself on his cock. But he was mortified when he realized it.
He could feel the warmth of Bill’s body as he leaned over him, the brush of his lips right against his ear as he spoke.
“Doesn’t it just make you want to DIE~.”
In that very moment, Bill slammed his hips down on him, and his cock was now fully buried inside him without any warning. He didn’t stop there, though. He set a brutal pace, not letting up or pausing a single time as he viciously fucked him into the mattress. With each thrust, he nearly pulled out all the way, only to slam right back in all the way to the hilt.
Dipper was an absolute mess at this point, wrecked in his entirety. With every thrust, his body violently jolted, still, for the most part, limp. The only thing that kept him in place was the hand that was flat against his back, keeping his chest flush against the mattress. At some point, his knees had been propped up, his spine curving, and his ass in the air. And his dick hung stiff and aching between his legs, as if he hadn’t had the most mind-numbing orgasm mere minutes ago.
He felt so overwhelmingly full, yet at the same time, it was like he couldn’t be satiated no matter what. His body wanted more, and it didn’t care that it was that dream demon giving it to him. If anything, some fucked-up part of him wanted it because it was him. The tormentor of his dreams. The source of every paranoid thought and struggle to function. He had always been afraid of Bill escaping and causing the same suffering he did before, but he never felt fear towards Bill specifically. All he felt for that man was hatred. Hate that he ever harmed his friends and family. That he nearly killed his sister. Tried to destroy everything and anything he ever cared about. Making him go through hell any time he could. He hated him. Yet now that hate only seemed to send more heat down between his legs, almost painfully so.
He was getting so close. Just a little longer, and he’d cum for a second time... just a little-
But Bill had other plans. He wrapped his hand around his cock again and held him firmly at the base, squeezing just enough to make it impossible to cum.
“Ah ah ah~ that wouldn’t be fair. You already got to cum once all on your own. Can’t be selfish~”
Dipper let out a strangled whine. He just wanted to cum. It was starting to hurt just how badly he needed it. He was going crazy, his hips moving in time with Bill’s, meeting each of his thrusts more frantically. He couldn’t even construct a coherent sentence; every sound he made came out as a gibberish mess.
The sight of Dipper so messed up seemed to send a thrill through Bill. It was a pleasant view indeed, and so it wasn’t long before his own climax began to close in. It was only once he shoved his cock deep into Dipper, releasing his load, that he finally let go of Dipper's cock. The second he did, he was cumming hard. His whole body trembled from the extreme pleasure. It far surpassed even what he felt when he had been fingered. He was so incredibly full, so full he could swear his lower abdomen felt swollen slightly. He was overflowing, the mess of Bill’s cum that spilled from his ass mixing with his own on the sheets.
“This look suits you, pine tree…”
That was the last thing Dipper heard him say before it all began to fade…
Dipper sat up abruptly in his bed, gasping and sucking in as much air as his lungs could. He was hyperventilating, but slowly, as he took in deep breaths and began to ground himself, his breathing slowly went back to normal.
He looked down on himself, then felt around under the blanket and around the mattress.
It had all been a dream. Another one of his nightmares...
He turned his head to look over toward the bed across the room. Mabel still slept soundly.
None of it had happened… no matter how real it felt, it didn’t happen. It couldn’t have.
He felt relieved, noting how deeply his sister still slept. At least that meant he hadn’t made any loud noises in his sleep. There was no way he’d be able to explain any of them if he had.
Another thought occurred to him, though. The dream wasn’t like any of the ones he’s had before. And as he remembered parts of it, his breath hitched and his heart beat spiked. He couldn’t tell if it was from dread, terror, or something else he wasn’t ready to unpack in that moment.
He ran his fingers through his hair. It wasn’t real, and it wasn’t possible. So then, why did it feel so different from the other dreams? Sure, a wet dream wasn’t that abnormal for your average person, but that was... it was messed up. Beyond messed up. He rubbed his arms a bit. What was wrong with him?
He couldn’t get it out of his mind, and it was starting to put him on edge all over again. He needed to check. He needed to see for himself. To make sure. With that, he kicked his legs off the bed.
As quietly as he could, he slipped a pair of sneakers on and grabbed a flashlight. It wasn’t far off; he knew where it was. He was just going to take a quick look and confirm to his brain that it was indeed still there. That none of this meant anything. That way, his mind would stop reeling, and he could just go back to bed.
Walking through the trees was a familiar feeling. He knew his way around well, almost by instinct. It didn’t take him long to get there, and once he did, the flashlight fell from his hand.
He dropped to his knees, his hands digging at the imprint left in the earth desperately, as if it would miraculously show up underneath all the dirt.
It was gone.
Or rather, he was gone.
Bill’s statue has disappeared.