#Sorry Ford it's how I show my love and I do oh so love you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

strawnarrries · 1 year ago

Text

Perfume

Summary: You get a new perfume and it drives Harry insane.

Requested: Yes!

Word Count: 4.9k

Warning(s): light drinking, F/M receiving oral, unprotected sex

Never in a million years did you think such a small detail would have such a huge impact on Harry. You went shopping with a couple of your girlfriends last weekend and found a new perfume you absolutely fell in love with. You had been using the same perfume for quite a while now and figured it was time to switch it up.

After smelling multiple different scents, none of them stuck out to you until the saleswoman showed you a Tom Ford Perfume. It was perfect. It was a warm, spicy, vanilla scent with hints of sandalwood and roasted barley. It was seductive, but still managed to be sweet at the same time. It was a pretty pricey perfume but you were instantly sold after that first sniff.

You were obsessed with wearing it. You had only owned this perfume for about a week, but you had worn it every time you left the house; even if it was for something simple like making a quick grocery trip. You had not a single regret about spending so much money on perfume. Wearing the perfume made you feel confident and sexy. You got so many compliments from your peers and you could not believe how crazy it drove Harry.

It all started last week.

"Okay, baby, I'm going to meet Kate for brunch," you called to him.

You were going to meet your best friend, Kate for lunch at a cute cafe near your home. It was the first chance you had to try out your new perfume since you bought it the other day. You hadn't told Harry about it because you wanted to see if he would notice that you switched scents. You didn't get your hopes up because he is a man after all, but you were curious either way.

Harry sat on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table, watching some random show you did not recognize. He wore an old tshirt and a pair of black basketball shorts. You walked over to him and pressed your right hand to the back of the couch next to his head, hovering yourself over his body. You pressed a sweet kiss to his lips before heading towards the mud room to grab your purse and your keys.

"Where are you guys gonna eat?"

"Burgh House Cafe," you replied, voice slightly raised so he could hear you from afar.

Once you stood back up from bending down to strap on your shoes, you were startled to feel him behind you, "Oh my gosh, you scared me. I thought you were still sitting down."

"Sorry," he chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around you from behind and pulling you into his chest.

"What are you doing?" you giggled, slightly confused because you only get goodbyes like this when one of you is leaving for a long time.

"Just wanted to hug you."

He nuzzled his face into the curve of your neck and you did not miss the deep inhale he took. He squeezed you tighter and hummed against the skin of your neck. He began pressing soft kisses to your neck, jaw, and cheek.

You giggled, letting him love on you for a little bit before squirming in his grip, "I'm gonna be late."

"You smell good," he mumbled.

"Do I?" you teased.

"Mhm, did you get a new perfume?"

"I did. I got it when I went shopping with my friends last weekend," you replied, turning around in his arms to face him before he immediately wrapped himself around you again, nuzzling his nose into your neck.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Wanted to see if you'd notice."

"How can I not notice when you smell this fantastic."

"So you like it?" you grinned.

"Mhm," he hummed, face still pressed against your neck.

You let him sway you back and forth for a moment, him inhaling and exhaling deeply while pressing sensual but sweet kisses to your neck.

"Okay, baby, I gotta go now."

"Nooooo," he whined, "I want you to stay."

You giggled at his neediness, "I'll be back in a couple hours."

"Mmmm, fine."

The next incident happened just a few days ago.

It was around 8:15am and you stood in the bathroom, getting ready for work. You had brushed your teeth, gotten dressed, and were currently working on your makeup. You heard him wake up and soon a shirtless Harry walked into the bathroom with sleepy eyes and bedhead. He was adorable.

"Good morning," you smiled at him.

"Mm, good morning," he mumbled back, voice raspy and deep with sleep.

He walked behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his bare chest. You smiled lovingly as he pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek before snuggling his face into your neck.

You continued to coat on mascara, loving the warm feeling of him holding you until he suddenly groaned, "Ugh, you're wearing that perfume again."

"Is that bad?" you asked, slightly confused by his reaction because you thought he really liked it.

"Yes, because it's making it harder to let you leave. Want you to stay home and let me love on you all day."

You giggled, screwing your mascara closed again and putting it back in your makeup drawer, "Can't, baby. Got meetings."

"Cancel them."

"You know I can't do that," you smiled at him.

He whined, looking up at you through the mirror and pouting. You turned around in his hold and cupped his face with both of your hands. You pressed your lips to his pouting ones for a sweet kiss before saying, "Do your thing, and then meet me downstairs and we can have breakfast together."

And here we are to tonight.

You and Harry decided to have your group of friends over for dinner and games. It had been quite some time since your group got together so you were excited to see everybody. You had spent the entire afternoon cleaning around the house and preparing for your guests. You and Harry had suggested getting takeout for everyone rather than cooking and everyone agreed with that. You were relieved by that because you had not acquired good cooking skills and making a good dinner with enough food was not going to happen if you and Harry were in charge.

You all had agreed on Chinese and after getting everyone's orders, you and Harry went to pick it up. Once home, you began to set the table and make everyone's plates as they began to arrive. You all sat at the table and chatted, enjoying the company of some of your closest friends.

Once dinner was finished, Harry cracked open a couple of drinks and you all gathered around the coffee table in the family room to play a few games. Your friend group loved to play games so you had a wide selection of card and board games you shuffled through. You started off with one of your favorite games, Cards Against Humanity. It was probably the most widely known, simple game, but it never failed to make you all laugh.

In between switching games, you went to the kitchen to refill your wine glass. On your way back in, you met Harry's eyes and he urged you to sit with him. You sat angled towards him on the couch, one leg pressed up against your chest. He grabbed your other leg and hooked it across his thigh, letting it dangle in between his legs while his arm rested on the couch ledge behind your head. Harry has never been big on PDA, but as soon as he gets a few drinks in him, he is all over you. He constantly needs to be touching you, even if it's just resting a hand on your knee, or standing side to side with you, he wants you close. Physical touch is his number one love language and he never fails to show it after a couple drinks.

"Hi, baby," you grinned after taking a sip of your wine.

"Hi. Having fun?" he grinned back.

"Mhm, are you?"

"Mhm."

"What game are we playing now?" you asked him.

"Celebrity," he answered.

After a few rounds of that, your wine glass was empty again. You did not feel like having another glass so you got up and went to the kitchen to wash it out, saving yourself a little time tomorrow morning when you have to clean up the place.

Standing at the sink, you were rinsing out the glass when all of a sudden, you felt a familiar pair of warm, tattooed arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

"You know, it may be the wine or your new perfume, but I'm tempted to kick everyone out and take you right here on our kitchen counter," he hummed, his voice slightly louder than you like due to the alcohol loosening him up.

"Oh my gosh, Harry don't talk so loud," you giggled at him cautiously, not wanting your friends to hear him talk so dirty to you.

He grinned, "I'm serious though. That perfume has been driving me mad all week."

"I know it has. You've been all over me," you teased.

"Can't help it when you smell so delicious," he hummed, his breath warm against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver up your spine.

"Don't get me riled up," you murmured.

"Maybe I want to."

His hand began to snake its way down to your inner thigh and you immediately grabbed it with your own, "Don't."

"What are the chances we successfully sneak upstairs for 5 minutes without anyone noticing?"

"Harry, no! That's not happening!"

"What are you talking about? I can easily make you cum in 5 minutes."

"No, not that," you giggled, glancing at your group of friends to make sure none of them were paying any attention to you two. Luckily, the only thing you saw was Brad and James screaming random celebrity names while Julia tried to act out who she picked out of the cards.

"I mean we're not sneaking away to have sex while your friends are all down here."

You have had a couple glasses of wine as well, but not that many.

"Why not?" he whined.

You began to reply, but then James interrupted you, teasing you both, "You two quit making out over there! Harry, it's your group's turn!"

You blushed slightly at the attention and laughed along with everyone else before joining them on the couch.

"How many did you get?" you asked Julia.

"Zero!" she replied angrily.

"Who was it?" you giggled.

"Rob Stringer! They took the entire round to miss Rob Stringer!"

For the rest of the night, you continued spending time with your friends. After a few more games, it was getting late and everyone decided it was time to go. You said your goodbyes to your guests and walked them each out the door, making sure they got into their cars safely.

As soon as the door shut, Harry locked it behind him, pulled you in by your waist, and started pressing sensual kisses to the delicate skin of your neck, breathing in your scent, "Been waiting for them to leave for hours."

"You were not," you giggled at his dramatics, wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into his embrace.

He giggled back, trailing his lips up your jaw, to the corner of your mouth before molding your lips with his. You parted your lips as he licked into your mouth, tasting you. He tasted sweet, but also bitter due to the wine he drank earlier.

"Love you so much." he murmured against your lips.

You hummed happily, "I love you too. Did you have fun tonight?"

"I did. But there's still one more thing I wanna end the night with," he replied, pushing a stray strand of hair out of your face.

"What?" you asked, even though you knew exactly what he wanted.

You watched his pretty green eyes darken with lust as he spoke before his face disappeared into your neck again, lips touching every inch of your skin they can reach as he spoke in between kisses, "You. Upstairs. In our bed. Naked. Right now."

You giggled girlishly before urging him to lift his head, attaching your lips once again for a passionate kiss, "Mmm, you got it, baby."

Your lips moved in sync with his, each kiss getting deeper and more heated. You tilted your head to the side and he followed your lead, kissing you like it was the last time he ever would. Your fingers threaded through his locks, while his hands began sliding down your backside, cupping each cheek in his large hands and squeezing.

"C'mon, I can't wait any longer," he hummed against your lips, landing a playful spank against your left cheek.

You giggled and both made your way upstairs to your shared bedroom. After entering, he closed the door and immediately pulled his shirt off, tossing it to the floor before grabbing the hem of your sweater; it soon joined his shirt on the floor. He cupped your face with his two hands and again attached his lips to yours. His tongue slipped out, tasting you while you obliged, letting him take over the lead.

You ran your hands across his bare chest, feeling every ridge of his muscles. Your fingers slowly walked down his chest, tracing his happy trail before fumbling with the button on his jeans. He interrupted you by slipping his fingers past the waistband of your leggings, pulling them down your legs. You stepped out of them and were soon standing in front of him in only your bra and panties.

While still kissing you, he began urging you to walk backward toward the bed. The backs of your knees hit the edge and you sat down on the bed, your lips disconnecting from his. Scooting backward, you got comfortable in the middle of the bed while he slipped his jeans off, leaving both of you in your underwear. He climbed onto the bed, hovering over you before continuing his assault on your lips.

He began to subtly grind his hips against yours and you could feel his hardening member against your center. Your panties dampened in return, getting more and more wound up with each second that passes by. His lips trailed down your neck until he got to the swell of your breasts. Cupping each of them over the fabric of your bra, he squeezed them, accentuating the swell before latching his lips to the soft skin. He began sucking and nipping, leaving dark purple marks that only he would see. He pulled each cup of your bra lower, exposing your nipples to him. You felt them harden at the sudden change of temperature and heard Harry groan under his breath slightly.

His lips immediately wrapped around your left nipple, sucking it while his fingers pinched your right one. Your eyes fluttered shut and your hands tangled themselves in his hair as you enjoyed the feeling of his tongue swirling around your nipple. He gave your right breast the same amount of attention before coming off of it with a soft pop.

"Take this off," he hummed.

You arched your back and unclasped your bra, tossing it to the ground with your clothes. Harry cupped them in his big hands again, this time with nothing blocking his access. He leaned down and began pressing kisses against all your sweet spots, sending goosebumps to prick against your skin. He trailed the tip of his nose up and down the nape of your neck, groaning, "Jesus christ, babe. You smell so fucking good."

You giggled, very amused at how much this tiny detail has riled him up, "Should've bought this perfume a long time ago."

He grunted in response, nipping your sensitive skin. You move his head so you can move your lips in sync with his, kissing him so deeply and sensually. His lips were so warm and his tongue was sloppy as he tasted you. You reached down in between your body and cupped his member, feeling just how hard he was for you. You slipped your fingers past the waistband and wrapped your palm around his shaft the best you could with the restriction. You moved your hand up and down before he rolled over, pulling you with him so you could straddle his lap.

You continued to kiss him, tilting your head for a different angle as your kisses got needier and sloppier. You adjusted yourself so your center was directly over his and you ground your hips against his, the friction being just enough to cause him to moan softly against your lips with each swirl of your hips.

"C'mere, sit on the edge," you ordered, climbing to the edge of the bed.

Harry followed, sitting on the edge and looking down at you. You sat on your knees in between his legs, running your hands up and down his thighs, the tattoos adorning them staring up at you. You leaned down and began peppering kisses to his skin, trailing your kisses up his thighs before reaching his member straining in his boxer briefs. You pressed your lips to it, letting your teeth gently scrape across the fabric.

"You're such a tease," he spoke.

"I love teasing you," you grinned, looking up at him through your lashes while your hand took over where your mouth just was, massaging him gently in your palm.

"I know you do."

You grinned, pressing a couple more kisses to his bulge before slipping your fingertips past the waistband of his briefs. He lifted his hips and allowed you to pull his underwear down his legs, letting them pool at his ankles before he kicked them to the side. He was completely exposed to you now. His tip, peaking out from under his foreskin, was swollen and red, leaking with precum and practically screaming at you for attention.

You wrapped your palm around his member, stroking him a few times before trailing kisses up the underside of him. You pressed a sweet kiss to his tip before slipping it past your lips, suckling it gently. You repeated your motions until you could feel his hips buck up, signaling he was getting antsy.

"C'mon," he muttered under his breath, his head falling back against his shoulders.

You smiled at how desperate he was for you before finally lowering your head onto him, taking him into your mouth. He groaned in pleasure, his head lifting up to watch you and his fingers winding themselves in your strands of hair. You bobbed your head up and down, your palm wrapped around what you could not fit in your mouth. Your free hand reached down and cupped his balls, massaging them gently in the way you knew he loved.

"Ugh, that feels so good, babe. You look so hot right now," he grunted, tugging gently on your strands of hair.

You hummed, grinning softly at him as you licked up the underside of his shaft, erupting another deep groan from his throat. You watched as his body reacted to the feel of you. A thin layer of sweat glittered on his skin. The two fern tattoos lining his deep V-line swayed like leaves on a tree with each clench of his abdomen. The moth tattoo just below his pecs danced with every inhale and exhale he took.

Feeling slightly adventurous, you wrapped your hands around his thighs and took him in your mouth again. Relaxing your throat, you took him deeper, your eyes pricking with moisture as his tip tickled the back of your throat. Bobbing your head up and down again, you found a good pace and you could tell he was rounding the corner to an orgasm.

You came off of him and wrapped your palm around his shaft, pumping him as you spread the mix of saliva and precum against him. You wrapped your lips around his tip, suckling softly before taking him in your mouth again, loving the way his breath hitched in his throat.

"Shit, baby, I'm close," he warned.

Usually at this point, you would stop. It usually takes him a little bit of time to recharge in between orgasms (especially now that he is older) and on late nights like tonight, neither of you feels like waiting for him to get it up again so you can have sex. But you wanted to play with him a little bit and see how far you could push him. So you didn't stop. You came off of him with a soft pop and wrapped your palm around him, thrusting it up and down at the fast pace you knew was his sweet spot.

"Y/N, fuck-don't. I'm so fucking close."

"Where do you want it?" you teased.

"Inside of you - god, babe, you gotta stop," he groaned almost painfully, wrapping his hand around yours and pulling it off of his throbbing member.

You stood on your feet and towered over him. You cupped his face with your hands and kissed him. His scruff tickled your skin while you shared his taste, the sound of your lips smacking against each other filling the room. You placed your knees on the bed on either side of his hips, straddling his lap while never letting your lips depart.

"You're a menace," he hummed against your lips.

"I know," you replied cheekily and he smiled widely in response.

Wrapping his arms around you, he stood up and turned around, laying you down on the bed. The roles were switched and he was now on his knees below you. He pulled you lower so your hips were on the edge of the bed and he was face-to-face with your center. He saw the wet patch on your panties, his thumb reaching out to run up and down your clothed slit, allowing your arousal to soak through the fabric even more.

"Soaked through your underwear, babe. Am I that sexy?" he teased, lips beginning to press kisses against your inner thighs.

"Mhm," you replied, feeling antsy in excitement for what was to come.

He pulled your panties down your legs, your glistening center now fully exposed to him. Your scent was so strong; the mix of your arousal and perfume filling his nostrils and making his member twitch between his legs.

"Bloody hell," he huffed to himself, tossing your panties to the floor, "You're gonna fucking kill me one day, you know that?"

You smiled as he awed at what was in between your thighs, your stringy arousal making his mouth water in anticipation of tasting you. One of his favorite things to do. With one hand cupping your hip, his other hand reached up and began running through your folds, spreading your wetness. He placed his thumb on your throbbing clit and began to slowly move it back and forth. You hummed softly at the relief, hips bucking up as you got needier for his tongue.

He wasted no time as he leaned in and licked a strip through your folds, humming in satisfaction at the taste of you on his tongue. After spreading you open for him, he wrapped his pink lips around your clit and began suckling. You reached down and threaded your fingers through his chocolate locks, tugging gently.

He began flicking the tip of his tongue back and forth across your bundle of nerves, your hips instinctively bucking up as your orgasm began to build. Playing with the shape of his tongue, he alternated back and forth between slipping into your slick entrance and suckling on your clit.

He came off of you softly, lifting his head to look down at what his mouth was just playing with. Using his dominant hand, he ran his fingers through your wet slit, admiring how slick and swollen you were. Turning his arm palm up, he slipped his middle finger past your entrance. You let out a moan as he felt around you, finding that spongey spot that caused your toes to curl.

He added a second finger and began pumping them in and out of you. The only noise to be heard in the room was the sound of your moans of pleasure and the squelching of your arousal against his thick fingers. You felt your walls clenching around him each time he brushed against your good spot. You could feel your orgasm tightening in your stomach and you knew it would not be long until he had you trembling under him.

"Oh, Harry. Just like that, don't stop," you moaned.

And that is exactly what he did. He continued his movements on you, desperate to feel you cum against him. With his fingers moving in and out of you at the perfect pace and his lips wrapped around your clit, your body was numbed with pleasure as your orgasm washed over every inch of you. Your back arched off the bed and loud moans spilled from your pink lips, letting him know just how good he was making you feel. Coming off of you with a soft pop, he sat up slightly, angling his arm to drive his fingers deeper into you. He watched as he carried you through your orgasm, in awe at how perfectly your body reacted to him.

Your orgasm began to fizzle out and your moans were overtaken with heavy breaths as you relaxed back into the warm sheets beneath you. Removing his fingers, Harry lowered his head again and lapped at your core to taste all of you, causing you to whimper slightly.

Harry stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before hovering back over you. He pressed his lips to yours for a sweet kiss before trailing them down your neck, giving you time to catch your breath, "I fucking love watching you cum."

"Mm, c'mere," you hummed, reaching down between you to wrap your palm around his member before blindly trying to line him up with your entrance, "I want you inside of me."

He replaced your hand with his hand, lining himself up with your entrance and immediately pushing in. You both let out moans of satisfaction, finally feeling relief from connecting to each other. He began moving his hips, grinding against you as he moved in and out of your slick entrance.

"Oh Harry," you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, pulling him close to you, "I love you so much."

"I love you too, baby. You feel so good," he whined back, lips brushing against yours with each thrust.

You clenched your walls around him, feeling every inch of him inside of you. You were slightly overstimulated by your orgasm just minutes before, but it still felt so good. He was grinding against you, his tip hitting your good spot with each thrust of his hips. His lips landed on yours and he kissed you slowly and passionately before trailing to your cheek, past your jaw, into the curve of your neck. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to all your sweet spots, his breath warm against your skin. He felt good. He always made you feel good, but right now, you were desperate for another release. You needed more.

"Faster please," you moaned.

Obeying you, he stood up on his feet and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed. Wrapping his palms around the back of your knees, he pulled them up to have your calves resting against his shoulder blades. Cupping his hands around your hips to steady you, he sped up his pace, driving in and out of you quickly. The change of position caused him to go deeper into you, allowing a new angle that made your toes curl against the skin of his back.

His hips slapped against the back of your thighs, reddening them with the constant force. Your breast bounced with each thrust of his hips against yours, moans and groans spilling from both of your lips. His balls slapped against your clit with each pound, stimulating you in the perfect way. You were getting close and Harry could tell.

"C'mon, baby. I know you're close. You're clenching me so fucking tight, it feels so good. Wanna feel you cum around me. C'mon," he urged.

It did not take long until your second orgasm of the night erupted in waves throughout your entire body, pleasure overwhelming every one of your senses. Your walls clenched around him tightly, triggering an orgasm of his own. His warmth spread through you and filled you up, causing a whole new wave of pleasure throughout your body. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your grip on the sheets was so tight your knuckles turned white. Both yours and Harry's moans mixed together and echoed throughout your home, filling it with sounds of your love.

His pace began to slow down as you both came down from your highs. He collapsed onto you, head resting just above your chest bone. You held onto him, running your fingers through his sweaty locks as you both caught up with your breath.

"That was so good," he breathed out, his breath warm against your skin.

"Really good," you agreed.

"I can't remember the last time we both finished at the same time like that."

"I know," you chuckled breathlessly.

He raised his head to look at you, pushing your hair from out of your face before cupping your jaw, "I love you so much."

"I love you too. So much, baby," you replied, your heart swelling at this sweet moment.

"Don't ever get rid of that perfume."

#my writing #one direction #harry styles #one shot #writing #smut #one direction writing #one direction one shot #one direction one shots #one shots #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #one direction smut #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #husband!harry

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tesscourtes · 9 months ago

Note

saw you had asks open, not a drawing request but wanted to know if there was any more story to your human bill’s punishment-for-weirdmageddon-is-to-turn-weak-human au, I really like it (sorry if you explained this a while back, I only just watched gravity falls😭I’m a late-comer to the fandom)

it’s just superepiccool to me, how are dipper and mabel about him being human now? Soos n Wendy, Stan and Ford? What was it like for them (especially Ford) when he just turned human? What was it like for Bill?

oh hey don't worry, I haven't really talked much about the details of the AU like ... ever. I just started reviving it because I got my partner into the show (they are also a new fan! yay, new fans! Funny enough I had no idea TBOB was coming out so the timing was mad exquisite.) and they have just been an amazing help shaping my messy thoughts and coming up with new, fun plots! It's also nice to know there's someone out there interested in it, so thank's for asking! Now that I read TBOB I want to change the premise a bit, but the core is still the same.

Let me tell you this AU is silly. I'm aware Billford is toxic and there are many corners to dive into to picture their messy relationship. But I kinda wanna keep the spirit of the show here and make it equally as fun as it is disturbing. Given that Bill canonically is trapped in endless Therapy gives me even more food to work with, he just out there being toxic and people repeatedly telling him to cut it out.

I'm not gonna go into too much detail because I'm actually working on the first comic chapter for this AU, but regarding the characters: Each of the Pines, as well as Wendy and Soos, are not happy seeing him, but individually grow more accustomed to him and with him. I guess going from "most accepting" to "least accepting", Mabel took it the best. I wouldn't say she was quick to forgive, but quick enough to give the guy a chance. And I honestly have to say that, although this is 100% a Billford AU, there's so many plot ideas for just Mabel and Bill and their amazing, chaotic shenanigans. Put these two together and the stories basically write themselves. Wendy is pretty similar, and the most chill in actually helping Bill figure out human stuff.

Naturally, Ford took it the hardest. I'm aiming for slowburn here, haha. They got to figure out some stuff that I'm so ready to put onto pages... Ford is a lot of emotions. Confused, angered, curious... Meanwhile Stan is Bills biggest hater. (There is a lot of bullying in this AU) He just keeps up with it because his Family makes him. He's very protective and tries to kick Bill out several times. Soos sticks with Stan, but he's also Soos and has a big heart, so in Bills eye, he's very gullible and a target he can mess with easily.

Dipper is not a fan either, he has a hard time adjusting to the triangle just getting to ... be there. He's suspicious for the most part and Bill has to try hard to get on his good side. But honestly he might be more upset with Mabel (and later on Wendy) for making friends with Bill so easily, even though he knows that's just their nature. I just recently started thinking about Gideon and how I'd like to include him, but nothing worth mentioning so far yet.

With Bill himself, one my favorite parts trying to portray so far is how he's dealing with his new mortality. He adjusts to the body fine, he knows how to navigate flesh, but he has a hard time accepting that it's his body. His new prison, essentially. If it's gone, he's gone. If he treat's it like shit, he feels like shit. Then we add the psychological aspect of things. And more importantly, we add Ford to the equation. When I tell you, that demon is experiencing psychological damage here, and it's fully his fault. TBOB really pointed out to me that I need to dive into his obsession with Ford. How do you even get a man you fumbled so bad, to even acknowledge you again?

I love yapping about this AU, thanks again for giving me the grounds to do so anon! I'm an insecure writer so it'll probably take another hot minute to choose which script feels best to draw out, haha. But I'm glad you seem to be up for the ride!!

#tess chatting it up #yapping about the human bill AU #also one of my biggest struggles: how to name a story #after 10 years i still have no idea #anyways (twirls my hair) omg i get to yap about my silly AU teehee #billford #bill cipher #human bill cipher #gravity falls #adfadt #a different form a different time au

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angelyuji · 8 months ago

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I saw this post

https://www.tumblr.com/angelyuji/760364279022190592/vampire-stan-and-frankensteins-monster?source=share

And I raise you Dr. Frankenstein Ford with Frankenstein's monster reader, but instead of rejecting you he gets a little too invested in his creation....

oh u cooked. i honestly think i started with dr frank ford but i was like technically he’s human but anyway no smut sorry

tw // grooming, dubcon, (i cant think of anymore so pls lmk if i missed any)

he first created you to see if he could create life, to see if his genius is truly that great. then when you first breathed, he felt like he truly created something amazing. you are supposed to be better than him, better than humans. but... he doesn’t really see you as your own person, to him, you are and forever will be his creation.

at first, his goal was just to teach you how to act like a regular joe yk. so when you ask him why you look so different from people outside, he’ll get scared that you’ll be treated like he was when he was younger and he’ll try to scare you into staying inside.

it’ll work, but you’ll grow restless. watching movies and shows about humans making you increasingly more curious. he never lets you watch anything explicit, fearing that it would dirty your pure mind. however, when ford leaves for his research trips, you take the opportunity to watch movies that he had 'hidden' away.

“ford, have you ever kissed anyone before?” ford chokes at the question. you sit across from him.

“why-why are you asking such a thing?” he clears his throat, composing himself. you pout and ford's eyes drift down your lips.

"i saw in the movies that every human does this." he could see the innocence in your eyes, you were truly curious.

ford swallows, carefully choosing his words, "my darling, you shouldn't fall for these things. humans are disgusting, debaucherous creatures. haven't i told you to not watch these silly things?" he shakes his head, hoping you would drop it. you stomp your foot.

"humans are not disgusting!" your eyes well up, "i am disgusting!" you pull at the stapes and stitches holding various parts of you together. ford gets up, trying to stop you. "no one will ever love me." you wail and run off to your room.

ford's so confused on where the sudden shift in your behavior, but hours pass and you remain locked in your room. fearing the worst, ford decides to talk to you.

he sits at the edge of your bed, watching you silently lay. “kissing… and similar things,” you turn to look at him, “are things humans do with people they love. it’s not something that-”

“i love you. does that mean we can kiss?” your eyes shine and something stirred in him.

“no! i mean-” he sees the tears well up.

“you don’t love me?” your voice breaks and his heart stings. he moves to your side. he gently pets your hair, hand falling to rub your cheek affectionately.

“my darling, you are my creation, my world… of course, i love you.” ford coos. you open your mouth to talk and he holds a hand up to stop you. “if this is something you need, i will do this for you…." his hand touches yours, "i would do anything for you.”

GULP ….. anyway

it’s very much a weird situation but… im kinda into it idk

#minors dni #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #gender neutral reader #stanford pines #stanford pines x reader #ford pines x reader #yandere stanford pines #tw dubcon #tw grooming #freaky ford #im on my period and i ran out of pads. god is real and he hates me

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aceistheplace86 · 8 months ago

Text

Ephemeral

///Good job @nyx-stars and anyone else who cracked the code!

You were waiting patiently at the Greasy Diner, wearing your favorite formal outfit. You had originally come into the diner in awe of the setup, there were fairy lights hung on the ceiling, and a table had a tablecloth with a single red rose and a candle.

You knew Ford had gotten Lazy Susan to keep open the diner for your guy's special date night. But now, as you sit and wait alone, the awe you once felt had faded. Ford was almost an hour late.

“Hiya Hun,” Susan said coming up sadly “I-I have to close up soon”

You didn’t make eye contact with her; you couldn’t bear to see the pitiful look she was surely giving you. “That’s Okay Susan” You blew out the candle and handed her the rose “Thank you for letting me stay.”

She smiled sadly and took the rose, handing you a container “Pie. For you”

You started your drive back to the Shack; you were so angry and confused. Ford knew how important tonight was, he had to have known because it was important to him too. Wasn’t it?

You got to the Shack, walked in, and slammed the door shut, which startled Stan who had gotten himself comfortable in his armchair.

“What are you doing back?” he asked confused then stopped “Wait, I never saw Sixer leave.”

“That’s because he never showed up” you scoffed.

“What?!” He stood up “You know how long it took me to set that stuff up? And what it took to convince Lazy Susan to stay open late” He paused “It didn’t take much convincin’ but still!”

“He didn’t even decorate it?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, causing Stan’s face to fall.

“It was his idea y’know. I was just the one who set it up. He said he wanted to get ready” He explained, “Do you want me to go yell at him or somethin’?”

You shook your head “I got this.” You made your way to the lab and were soon met with Ford, who was hunched over a desk, mumbling to himself.

“Ford.” The sound of your voice seemed to startle him because he whirled around.

“Oh, Hello my darling!” he said cheerily “What are you doing down here?”

“You missed our dinner.” You ignored the flutter in your chest at that nickname.

“I probably didn’t miss much; Stan was talking about ordering pizza” He chuckled turning back to his work

“Our dinner. Ford.” You repeat.

He paused and turned to look at you “Our dinner to celebrate…” He trails off “Oh my love, I am sorry. I was just about to get ready when I realized something. Do you remember my Multiverse Echo Theory? Every event that occurs in Gravity Falls creates a ripple in the fabric of reality, leading to the formation of alternate dimensions.” He recalls excitedly “I believe that if I can find a way to tune into these echoes, I could access knowledge or maybe even resources from other dimensions that could help uncover the mysteries of this town! I have been working on a device that can track and measure these dimensional fluctuations” He paused and glanced back at his notes “However, one could argue about the ethical implications of meddling with the multiverse”

Just like that, you had lost him again to his work. He was no longer paying attention to you. “Ford you missed our dinner” You repeated.

“Yes, I apologize for that dear,” he says not looking at you, but writing down in his journal. “We could reschedule for tomorrow.”

“That is not the point Stanford!” You were tired, having little to no fight left in you anymore. Not for another conversation where you had to beg him to give you even the tiniest bit of attention even for a moment. The only reason you hadn’t given up was because there had been times when it felt like Ford was improving, that you didn’t have to fight for his attention.

He taught you some of his favorite meals to cook. He drove an hour out of town to take you to a bookstore. He wrote you poems. He was there when you woke up in the morning. That was probably your favorite part. Rolling over to be met with his warm body instead of the cold, empty side of the bed. It hurt to know he would rather go straight to the lab in the morning, that was if he had even come to your shared room in the first place.

“I don’t understand,” He says “You want a dinner, I will make plans for us to have dinner tomorrow. But for now, would you like to help me?” he waved over to his notes “Stanley made Dipper go to bed”

“You aren’t listening to me, Stanford!” You cried out “There are other things that can give your life meaning. More important things than… than this!” You said gesturing to the lab.

“What?” Ford replied shortly “Like you?”

You stood frozen. Is that really what he thought about your relationship? About you? “I think you should apologize”

“And I think you should leave” His back was towards you.

“Fine” You whispered, “I can’t watch you do this to yourself anymore Ford.”

“Like it’s so difficult for you?” He muttered.

“Yes! It breaks my heart to see you this way! You spent your childhood chasing after a place where you could fit in, somewhere where you would find love. You completely ignored your brother who was there for you” You started “And now you are starting to completely ignore me, I thought you would change once we got you back with the portal. I thought you would be different” Before Ford had gotten sucked into the portal, your relationship was a bit rocky, but you chalked it up to the fight he had with his brother, but he only continued to ice you out. It was good for the first few months when he came back, but now he started to isolate himself again.

You had dedicated your life to helping Ford feel like he belonged, and you stuck by Stanley as he tried to bring back his brother. “I gave up everything for you Stanford!”

“I never asked you to”

“You did when you said you loved me”

He stared at you for a long while before he turned away and went back to his desk.

You felt defeated. You looked down at your hand and slipped off the ring. “Goodbye Stanford” You set the ring on top of his journal and walked out. You didn’t even bother packing a bag, you just got in your car and drove off.

Pt 2. Here

#gravity falls #gravity falls fandom #stanford pines #gravity falls fanfiction #ford pines x you #ford pines x reader #dating ford pines #grunkle stan #stanley pines #gravity falls stanley #mabel pines #dipper pines #gravity falls stanford #journal 3 #ford pines #stan pines

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shmisky · 3 months ago

Note

Better world ford meet Reverse portal dtanley

Oh, boy, that would be something!

For anyone reading this, you might want to check out this first, or you won’t understand!

Ok, so. Moving on. I think that Better World Ford can be interpreted in two ways: 1) the one in which he’s devastated by the loss of his brother, but still functional and clinging to the morals he does have, and 2) the more dramatic and darker one in which he’s a bit... cray cray, as Mabel would say, driven mad by grief and potentially overprotective and possessive over any Stan he’d happen to find. From my profound fanfic knowledge, I think most people (not just shippers but the fandom in general) would prefer the second option, hahah. I will try to answer what would happen in both of these scenarios!

Let’s think of reverse portal!Stan first. I assume you can only mean a Stan who went through the portal instead of Ford. I’ve talked about this possibility before, here, and to shorten things: I don’t think Ford would ever genuinely value the “greater good” over Stan. He didn’t in Weirdmaggedon, when he was ready to offer the entire universe in exchange for the lives of three people (Stan, Mabel, and Dipper), and he wouldn’t back then, either, when he had much less discipline and control than old man!Ford. But Ford is a complicated little guy, isn’t he. So there are a number of reasons why he could, hypothetically, decide to not rescue Stan. 1) He assumes Stan is dead, 2) he somehow manages to gaslight himself for a while into believing he values the greater good over Stan (only to regret it bitterly, because that isn’t who he is at his core), or 3) someone (Bill or Fiddleford the Cult Leader) purposefully or accidentally messes things up for him.

Personally, I think the first option is the most likely one. Despite his admirable determination, Ford can be a pretty fatalistic, pessimistic man. When Stan lost his memories, he did indeed believe Stan was lost to him completely, and would have continued to think so, if Mabel hadn’t attempted to resurrect the old Stan through her scrapbook. “I’m sorry. Stan is gone,” he told his desperate grandniece.

Not just that, but there’s a very juicy reason (to me) why Ford would believe so: Bill. Bill, who knows exactly how much Stan matters to Ford. Bill, who already tried to hurt Stan to get to Ford once, in TBoB. (And who turned everyone into tapestry in Weirdmaggedon but spared Stan and the kids to use them against Ford! We have a pattern here!) Ford would sink into despair thinking of all the things Bill could have done to his brother before killing him. I think Bill could go and put more wood to the fire by appearing to Ford and making something up on the spot to brag about, about how Stan screamed and begged for mercy and died thinking Ford hated him. Ford would then assume Stan was really and truly dead, because if he were alive, then surely Bill would make an attempt to blackmail him, to convince Ford to fix the portal to get his twin back. The fact Bill isn’t doing that is proof enough. The possibility that Stan just managed to escape Bill and is still evading capture wouldn’t even cross his mind.

But while this Ford would be utterly devastated with the burden of having killed his brother, Portal!Stan would not know this. No, he would assume Ford decided it wasn’t worth it, to fix the portal and get him back. That he wasn’t worth it to Ford. He could easily be led to think that his relationship with Ford was now wrecked beyond repair. He’d feel like something he never noticed he still had (hope that Ford loved him deep down) was being taken away from him.

Most people, when they think of Portal!Stan think of... well, our canon Portal!Ford, but make it Stan instead. Same thing! But—I’m realizing only as I’m writing this—I don’t think Portal!Stan would be exactly the same thing as Portal!Ford. Ford is, surprisingly, more hardcore in his violence than Stan! There are many moments in the show that highlight this, but I’ll try to be somewhat brief.

Think about it: both of the Stans had their years running from the law. Stan was banned from US states, while Ford managed to make himself an outlaw in many dimensions. A state is inside a country that is inside a continent that is inside a planet that is inside a solar system that is inside a galaxy that is inside an universe that is inside a dimension, and somehow Ford want us to believe he was “just as wanted” as Stanley! Uh huh! Ford managed, somehow, to be known across the multiverse as “armed and dangerous,” even in his younger days, while he still had brown hair (which is what his Wanted poster in J3 says in code, btw!) The aliens were afraid of our guy! Mullet!Stan meanwhile, homeless and presumably struggling to survive just as Ford was, didn’t seem to have a similar (in)fame. We can see his own Wanted poster in his box of memorabilia in Not What He Seems, but they merely list his conman-typical crimes. Don’t get me wrong, he would end up very different from our canon Stan nonetheless. I think he would be just as hard to catch as Ford (Bill would be after him as well, for sure), and perhaps even develop a sense of revenge against Bill for hurting his brother if he put two and two together and Bill appeared in his dreams to brag. He just wouldn’t have the same vibes, imo, and would perhaps rely on different skills, such as his silver tongue and ability for lying and understanding people, instead of making himself known interdimensionally as a dangerous threat like Ford. Bill would repeatedly warn bounty hunters about not underestimating him, but somehow they always would, and Stan would always escape.

Now, now. Finally, let’s talk about Better World!Ford! I said there are two versions of him you could imagine, the more reasonable one and the cray cray one, but no matter the version, he’d be mourning his Stan deeply, like half of himself had died.

Let’s assign some names for them so we don’t get lost, first 😭

BW!Ford = Better World!Ford

BW!Stan = Better World!Stan

RP!Stan = Reverse Portal!Stan

RP!Ford = Reverse Portal!Ford

Moving on again.

I picture RP!Stan visiting the Better World dimension for some reason and BW!Ford immediately wanting him to fill the emptiness caused by BW!Stan’s death. I can’t see BW!Ford not being overprotective of RP!Stan, considering he’d be 1) traumatized about losing BW!Stan and 2) terrified of what Bill could do to RP!Stan. Because again, Bill knows how much any Ford, of any dimension, loves his Stan. Bill could try and use Stan to hurt him! (Which would be, in fact, exactly what Bill was trying and failing to do for so many years, hahah.)

RP!Stan would be shocked by BW!Ford’s transparent and overwhelming love for him. Didn’t every Ford Pines despise Stan Pines? Perhaps BW!Ford was faking his love! Perhaps BW!Ford was just completely different from RP!Ford!

But if so, where’s BW!Ford’s own Stan? What happened differently? Something terrible, perhaps? Did BW!Stan have to die or something for BW!Ford to start caring? But then again, RP!Ford (apparently) had left RP!Stan to die after pushing him through the portal, so perhaps an average Ford wouldn’t even care about an average Stan’s death... (I’m sorry if this is getting too confusing! 😭)

(RP!Stan also considers the possibility that BW!Stan was just a much better brother than him, but that hurts too much. BW!Ford wisely doesn’t tell him about the fact BW!Stan had obeyed his order to take away the journal.)

Let’s suppose that RP!Stan then makes the mistake of telling BW!Ford about RP!Ford, who (apparently) hadn’t bothered to fix the portal to get RP!Stan back. I think BW!Ford would realize what actually had happened, and then he would have a decision to make: to tell RP!Stan the truth or not. If he did, perhaps RP!Stan would then embark in a journey back to the arms of his RP!Ford. If he didn’t...

Here I think it depends on how you interpret Ford (and his morals) to be. I think his morals are pretty loose, but nonetheless he can be pretty noble and self-sacrificing and prone to profound, if sometimes repressed, guilt. He could still feel empathy towards his other self, knowing intimately the utter pain of living while blaming himself for Stan’s death. If he decides to be the good, selfless guy, then happy ending for RP!Ford, unhappy ending for him.

Could he believably decide to lie to RP!Stan and say that yeah, his own Ford didn’t care for him? Yes, imo, with the right rationalizion. As Alex mentioned before, Rob Renzetti (coauthor of Journal 3 and his Ford expert) made him understand a fundamental truth about Stanford Pines: that he can do anything as long as he manages to justify it to himself, because one of his greatest powers is rationalizing. I think even a Ford with canon Ford’s morals could justify lying to RP!Stan if he managed to successfully convince himself that what he was doing wasn’t against Stan, but against the other Ford. Ford on Ford violence, if you will. He can be very self-loathing and very hypocritical at the same time, so if he somehow twisted the narrative inside his head so as to paint RP!Ford as the villain who deserved to lose his Stan and himself as the one who will take better care of RP!Stan... Especially considering Bill, and the fact he could consider it unsafe for RP!Stan to leave the BW dimension at all...

And if you want to go a touch darker—now I believe we’re approaching a darker!Ford territory; that is, I don’t believe canon Ford would be capable of bringing himself to do this, but his BW version has been twisted by grief—he could ensure RP!Stan never leaves him quite easily, through many different means, including Fiddleford’s memory gun. That would mean a definitive unhappy ending for poor RP!Ford, forever without his Stan 😔

#stancest #stancest meta #the bunny analyzes #the bunny answers #you got me so invested in this au of an au shskfj #stancest au #stancest hc #i know that most people will want the two fords to share the stan #and tbh me too #i am sorry if the whole bw and rp thing was too difficult to understand #hard to make it more organized

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alexthebordercollie · 4 months ago

Note

i love Ford in the one bigger than myself chapter where he's coming off of what i assume is a visit from Bill. damp, cold, randomly scooping his friend into his lap, and being fed spam like a baby bird. really, who is doing it like him?

UGHHGHG! I love how you put that T^T Just the best description of this scene possible.

And yeah, this scene shows Ford having a manic episode after one of Bill's dream visits. I don't usually post all my chapters to tumblr, just the ones I feel work really well in isolation. That said I know have to post this scene for people. If you guys would like me to post more stuff from Bigger than Myself or Hand of God let me know. People can request scenes they'd like to see my draw.

Link to Bigger than Myself Bigger than Myself - Chapter 5 - alexBDcollie - Gravity Falls [Archive of Our Own]

The scene in question is below the cut.

“Morning Fidds!”

“Sweet Jesus!” Fiddleford nearly jumped out of his skin when he woke to Ford hovering an inch from his face. He leaped back and rolled sideways. Tangling up in his sleeping bag.

Ford was squat down on the ground beside him and pulled back when he saw Fiddleford jump. “Oh, sorry, didn’t me to spook you.” He apologized. Though the big grin on his face didn’t suggest regret.

Fiddleford wrestled with his sleeping bag for a minute to get free as he sat up. “I, gosh nabbit- It’s fine.” He huffed. Freeing himself from the plasticy fabric. “Just don’t go hollerin’ so close to a man’s face. Nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“I hope didn’t,” Ford replied sincerely.

Fiddleford felt around in the grass for his glasses and looked back at Ford and he put them on. “Didn’t what?” He asked. Furrowing his brow as Ford came back into focus.

“Give you a heart attack,” Ford replied.

Fiddleford looked him up and down slowly. “You didn’t… it’s a figure o’ speech Stanford.” He reminded him slowly.

“Right, of course. I know that. Obviously.” Stanford rambled. He was strangely damp. His hair clung to the side of his face and his clothes stuck to him like he’d tossed them on while still wet. They weren’t damp enough to suggest he’d gotten wet while wearing them.

“Ya fall in a creek or somethin’?” Fiddleford asked. He looked around the campsite and found Ford had already gotten the fire relit for them. He reached for the bag where he kept their food and cooking tools and startted riffling through it for spam and powdered eggs.

“Hm?” Ford’s gaze seemed unfocused. His eyes darting about at random. He looked back at Fiddleford like he didn’t understand the question. It took a few seconds before it seemed to click. “Oh, this-” he ran a hand through his damp hair. “Took a bath in the creek,” he clarified.

Fiddleford watched him close as he brought out a frying pan and some cooking spray. “Right…” He only pulled his eyes away long enough to watch what he was doing. Grease the pan, pull out a canteen, and mix up the powdered eggs. “Ya didn’t need to do that bud. It’s a campin’ trip. I ain’t exactly expectin’ ya to smell like daisies.” He chuckled. Trying to relieve a bit of the awkward energy that sparked in the air around Ford. Fiddleford couldn’t name that energy but he could feel it prickling his skin.

“Just felt like it,” Ford replied. His voice, oddly distant for a moment.

Fiddleford looked back at him again as he placed the frying pan over the fire. “Yeah? This about that nightmare last night?” He asked. Figuring that must be the cause of… whatever this was.

Ford had woken up with a shout that morning. It had to have been something fierce to startle him like that. Fiddleford almost thought he dreamed it. If he’d realized he hadn’t he wouldn’t have gone back to sleep so easily. Stanford Pines was not a man who scared easily.

Ford looked back at Fiddleford confused. “Nightmare? What nightmare?” He asked. He was shaking. Fiddleford was noticing it now as he watched him. Peeling open the can of spam without taking his eyes off Ford’s trembling hands. They hung limp in front of him. His elbows rested on his knees.

“Ya woke up early this morning. Ya told me it was a nightmare.” Fiddleford reminded him.

Ford looked at Fiddleford with wide doe eyes like he hadn’t the foggiest clue what he was talking about. “A nightmare…” he muttered. Gears turned in his head as he struggled to remember what Fiddleford was talking about. His teeth seemed to chatter slightly as he spoke. “N-no, no, good dreams…” he countered. He looked away again for a moment like he was recalling something. “Good, good dreams. Scary, but good. Scary good, you know? You don’t know-” he was muttering, barely getting a coherent thought out.

Fiddleford nodded slowly. “I geuss…” he conceded. He cut off a few slices of spam with his whittling knife and slapped them in the pan with their eggs. Taking the skillet by the handle and giving it a jiggle before flipping its contents. “Ya should get yer coat on. Ya look chilly.” He advised.

“Coat, ya, that sounds like a g-good i-idea. Smart, you're smart,” Ford stammered.

Fiddleford watched the food for a minute but maintained a keen sense of Ford’s presence as he felt the man walk past to find his coat strewn out in the grass. Fiddleford relaxed enough to focus on his cooking, only to be blindsided again. Ford thumped suddenly down on the ground behind Fiddleford and, before his presence could be properly registered, reached out and snatched Fiddleford up in his coat.

Fiddleford let out a startled yelp as he was enveloped suddenly in a cocoon of dense brown fabric and shockingly strong arms. “Hey! Watch it! Hot pan over here!” He blurted out. Squirming to poke his head out of the top of Ford’s coat to make sure he hadn’t spilled the food. Thankfully he’d let go in time for the skillet to rattle against the metal frame that held it over the fire before settling back into place.

“S-sorry.” Ford stammered. Making no effort to let Fiddleford go. He sat down behind him and pulled Fiddleford into his lap. Arms squeezing him tight like pythons as he burrowed his nose into the crook of Fiddleford’s shoulder.

Fiddleford found his hips wedged between Ford’s thighs. Their bodies pressed tight together. He felt the heat rise to his cheeks but tried his best to ignore it. He wasn’t sure what made Stanford so snuggly all of a sudden but he was clearly feeling out of sorts. Something was wrong and Fiddleford reasoned it was best to be gentle with him. He rubbed Ford’s forearm through his sleeve. “Ya comfy?” He teased.

Ford nodded into Fiddleford’s shoulder. “You’re warm,” he muttered. Barely audible.

“Well I hope so,” Fiddleford chuckled. Trying to take the awkward exchange in stride. “It’d be concernin’ if I wasn’t.” Snuggled up like this though, he could tell Ford was cold. The man was usually a human furnace. He felt strangely cool. Perhaps it was just from his creek bath earlier, but it was an uncanny feeling nonetheless. A worrying sensation that made Fiddleford want to lean into his affection if only to warm him up.

Fiddleford looked back at the pan and watched it closely. Allowing himself to settle comfortably into the folds of Ford’s coat. Hoping Stanford’s head would clear with some heat and a bit of food in him. “You wanna tell me about yer dream?” he asked.

“Hm?” Ford hummed drowsily.

“Yer scary good nightmare?” Fiddleford teased, turning his head back to meet Ford’s eyes.

Ford looked unsure for a moment. His pupils were huge. Had he been smoking something? No, not Stanford. He was too straight-laced for that. Then again, it had been a long time since last they spoke. Anything was possible and Fiddleford didn’t have any clues that might explain what was happening. Ford was always prone to bursts of wide-eyed energy when some new discovery captured his imagination. This wasn’t that. This was something alien. Unfocused, that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? He wasn’t excited about something, just excitable. Too energized and too tired to think at the same time. Like he was ten cups into a coffee binge with nothing to work on. Ford was never so aimless. He always had something on his mind.

“No…” Ford replied slowly. “I don’t want to talk about it.” The energy seemed dampened. Like he was coming to some kind of realization at the moment. A realization that harshed whatever buzz he had going for him.

Ford dropped his face back into Fiddleford’s shoulder and shivered in his coat. Fiddleford set about trying to work some heat back into his friend’s body. Rubbing his hands swiftly back and forth over Ford’s forearms. “That’s alright. Ya don’t have ta talk about it if ya don’t want to.” He assured him.

Ford took a deep breath and Fiddleford could feel his chest swell against his back. He could feel Ford’s heart thumping against him. Fiddleford felt it slow in real-time. Ford was doing it intentionally. How he ever learned to do that was still a marvel to Fiddleford.

“Fidds?” Ford spoke up. His voice uncharacteristically meek and small.

Fiddleford leaned forward to pull the pan from the fire. “Yeah bud?” He replied evenly as he slid their food off onto paper plates.

“What’s it like, when you’re with Emma?” Ford asked.

Fiddleford paused for a second as he considered the question. “In what sense?” He asked.

“Like… how does it feel ?” Ford asked. “To be with someone like that.”

Fiddleford could feel himself turning red. He didn’t mean like- like that? Like that. Did he? “Excuse me, pardon?!”

“You know, like, being married, being in love, what’s it like?” Ford huffed. Clearly, he thought the question was more sensible than it sounded.

Fiddleford laughed and offered Ford a plate. “Oh come on now. Like you never fancied someone.”

Ford took it but still kept his arms wrapped around Fiddleford. Holding his own plate in front of the both of them and taking up the space Fiddleford needed to eat. “No not really.” He answered bluntly. Not even looking at the food. Just staring into space. “I thought I did once but…”

Fiddleford grew quiet as he processed what Ford was saying. He felt a bit guilty for his teasing. Ford was always an odd man so this wasn’t a shock per se. “Well, I…” He thought about Emma-may. Tried to formulate an honest answer. He loved Emma. He knew he did. Growing up they were thick and thieves. A couple of weird kids against the world. She was a bit like his Ford at the time. A strong, brave, personality. Someone who could fight off the monsters and inspired Fiddleford as much as she worried him half to death.

“I dunno, she’s my best friend I guess,” Fiddleford finally answered softly.

“I thought I was your best friend,” Ford whined playfully. Nudging Fiddleford with his shoulder.

Fiddleford scrambled not to drop his plate and laughed back. Pleased to hear Ford beginning to sound a bit more like himself. “Ya are my best friend ya dummy! Yer just different.”

“Different how?” Ford asked.

Fiddleford gapped his mouth open a few times as he struggled for words. “It’s just different! Ya know, it just is!” He snapped. “If ya don’t understand it, then I don’t know how to explain it!”

Ford blinked at Fiddleford a bit dumbfounded before looking away. “Right… It’s a silly question.” He looked hurt and Fiddleford’s heart sank.

Fiddleford knew exactly what the difference was. He knew all too well that the way he loved Emma was something else. The way he loved Ford… Sitting here in his lap. Wrapped up in his coat. Wondering with an equal mix of concern and startling awe what was going through that man’s head. It was very different. Fiddleford promised his life to Emma-May before he ever met Stanford. They had a plan. They were going to run away together. He thought that’s what love was… Somewhere wires had gotten crossed and Fiddleford didn’t know how to uncross them. Love wasn’t supposed to be this way. Ford couldn’t have asked anyone worse.

Fiddleford looked at Ford’s plate in front of him and reached up a hand for his plastic fork. He cut off a chunk of fried spam and held it over his shoulder. Nudging Ford’s lips. “Eat ya knucklehead. We got a big day ahead of us. Ya promised me an alien space ship an’ I won’t ever forgive ya if ya can’t deliver.” He teased.

Ford looked back at him again and chuckled. He parted his lips and allowed Fiddleford to deposit the food in his mouth. Resting his jaw on Fiddleford’s shoulder while he chewed.

They sat like that for a while. Eating their breakfast and laughing. Ford excitedly gushed about the valley he called home and the many things he had discovered over the years. The strange wild-eyed buzz, whatever it was, slowly melted into Ford’s usual enthusiasm. No longer disoriented and aimless but focused intensely on sharing his love of the paranormal. His love for Gravity Falls. Whatever it was Ford called love, Fiddleford liked to think it felt something like this. He hoped someday Stanford’s love could be treasured by someone. He deserved that much at least.

#gravity falls #fiddauthor #stanford pines #fiddleford hadron mcgucket #ford^2

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radioisntdead · 6 months ago

Note

Grunkle…. Ford…. Dinner date……………

HAPPY [slightly belated] BIRTHDAY MY DEAREST MOONY! I HOPE YOU HAD A WONDERFUL DAY, YOU CAN LEGALLY DATE FORD NOW [please don't] OR GET ARRESTED AND I'M SORRY THIS WAS DELAYED! LOVE YOU!

Dinner date at Greasy's

Ford x reader

Song used

First date Headcanons + established relationship songfic drabble

Warnings: This is my first time writing for Ford so please forgive any OOC-ness

Well aren't you a lucky duckling! You got a date with one of the most desired old men in gravity falls!

Thank his grandniece Mabel for pushing him to ask you out because now the two of you were on a date! There weren't many fine dining restaurants in gravity falls and the ones that were around Stan had gotten himself, and by extension Ford, banned from them!

Dude's last uh, romantic?? Obsessive??Relationship didn't really end well, but you weren't a triangle with one eye so hopefully things will go well!

Since this is your first date, He got coached on what to do by Mabel and likely has an earpiece where the twins are watching him, giving advice and judging him.

He pulled out the chair for you to sit in, very demure, very mindful, very gentlemanly, very Mabel approved.

I imagine the two of you bond over the oddities of gravity falls, Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons or science-y stuff

He'd tell you about his adventures with his brother on the Stano'war, I imagine he's the type to have pictures of his family in his wallet so dude just whips out pictures of Dipper and Mabel like "These are my grandniece and nephew,''

I imagine you share a dessert with him, one plate two spoons, very romantic!

You were giddy, legs kicking softly back and forth underneath the table as you stared at your boyfriend reading his menu, trying to figure out what he wanted.

Moon, a hole of light

Through the big top tent up high

Here before and after me

Shinin' down on me

Stanford Pines, the handsomest man in town, in your opinion anyway, and you were just so lucky to have him all to yourself, you had been with him for awhile now, you remember when he first asked you out,

He was shoved in front of you by his grandniece, Mabel, with flowers in his hand he finally asked you out on a date to greasy's diner!

And here you were nearly a year or so later back at the diner.

Moon, tell me if I could

Send up my heart to you?

So, when I die, which I must do

Could it shine down here with you?

You laid your head in your hand as you watched him, you were like a lovesick newlywed despite not being married to the man, not yet at least.

'Cause my love is mine, all mine

I love mine, mine, mine

Eventually Lazy Susan came by to take your orders, you loved his voice as he spoke, you loved the way his eyes crinkled, you loved the crack in his glasses that you wondered why he hasn't replaced them yet, you loved the way he wore a trench coat over a sweater no matter the weather, you loved the way he was outdated on modern technology like a silly old man.

Nothing in the world belongs to me

But my love, mine, all mine, all mine

Once Susan had taken away the menus he set his hand on the table in which you immediately decided to interlace your hand with his, holding it as you waited for your food to arrive.

It was like something out of a cheesy movie.

My baby here on Earth

Showed me what my heart was worth

Ford was lucky to have you, Wonderful, intelligent, beautiful you!

He never thought he'd have someone like you, he never had the best experiences with romance wether that be getting rejected by a girl at prom several decades ago or a weird toxic situationship with a yellow triangle.

But now he had you! You were healthy for him, the two of you were healthy for each other, you didn't mind when he rambled on about whatever, whether that be Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons or his sciencey inventions, his adventures through the dimensions or even just his day.

And he was the same way, oh how he could listen to your lovely voice for hours upon hours, like music, it didn't matter what you spoke about, whether it was just about your day, whether you were complaining about something, anything really he adored listening to you, he loved the little spark in your eyes when you talk about something you really like.

So, when it comes to be my turn

Could you shine it down here for her?

He loved watching you as you do whatever hobbies you did, he thrived in the times where he'd do his work in one side of the room and you were on the other side doing just anything, just silently enjoying each other's company.

Was that extremely cheesy of him to think? Most definitely but a little bit of cheesey-ness never hurt anybody, unless you were lactose intolerant.

'Cause my love is mine, all mine

I love mine, mine, mine

Soon Susan returned with your meals, placing them in front of the two of you, you let go of his hand to begin digging into your meal, Ford frowned at the lack of hand holding for a moment before going to dig into his own meal, He would never admit that he was a little touch starved, yearning for touch, hugs or handholding were his personal favorites.

But he was a grown man, he could wait until the two of you returned home to wrap you in a warm embrace.

Nothing in the world belongs to me

But my love, mine, all mine

For now He'd enjoy your date, admiring you as you admired him like the lovesick fools the two of you were, He was glad to have you, and you were glad to have him.

Nothing in the world is mine for free

But my love, mine, all mine, all mine

Good evenin' folks! I do hope you enjoyed my first gravity falls fic, wish Moony a happy birthday and as always thank you for tunin' on in, I hope you all have a wonderful night!

#gravity falls x reader #gravity falls Ford x reader #Ford pines x reader #stanford pines x reader #HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOONYY LOVE YOUUU

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artsymeeshee · 7 months ago

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Hello! I just found your laundry list of art last week, and I have to say…I LOVE IT! Love the instinct comics, Ford being cool never ceases to make me giggle, and I loved the autumn drawing. I’ll admit, that one had me in tears…made be believe in the what-if’s of my own family. What they…could be like someday. Or what I wish they were. Thanks for the tears, they were much needed.

Anyway! This is what I came to message you about! Although,…I am extremely sorry for the late message. I tend to check back into tumblr at…weird hours of the night. Heck, it’s almost the next day as I type this. I seriously need to sleep more. So! I had a few thoughts on Stan and Ford relationship, and I wanted to hear your thoughts on it. Just a disclaimer, I’m kinda basing this off my actual life as I find these characters mirror personal events very closely! I am also a writer and soon to be author! Might post some archive of our own content about these two soon. Also, and this is the most important, I have NOT read book of Bill yet. So plz…no spoilers. Anyway, long introduction aside, let’s begin!

In my personal head cannon of these two, which I don’t imagine is “too” different than how anyone else could see them, Stan and Ford have an extremely awkward and emotional conversation after Weirdmagedon. Why? B/c they’re both, to some degree, emotionally numb. In my opinion, why wouldn’t they? They haven’t spoken to each other in 40 years, properly, and they have repressed a ton of their emotions since then. It’s hard to bring that back up. (Speaking off of experience) I’d say even harder for Ford. Stan, thanks to the twins, has learned to loosen the locks on his heart while Ford kept running away from those emotions to defeat Bill. Just like his ambitions, that was the main priority, and everything else later. To me, this would explain why Ford never bothered to talk to Stan properly since coming back during the show. He wouldn’t know how to. If they were to talk, and this is where the writer in me comes out, I’d write Ford as the one that needs it most. He’s been traveling dimension for decades, running from the past that held him back…but he has no anchor now. Stan becomes that anchor, paralleling what he wasn’t when Ford was lost. And Ford…he just breaks. Like, completely breaks. And Stan is there with him, breaking like he is, but still there for him brother. Finally back after all those years apart. And as someone who has been on the side of neglect from one’s own brother…nothing would be me happier if we went to connect. Just like Stanley and Ford. And eventually, soon to be sailing on the seas to connect even more.

Phew…that was a lot. Sorry for the rambling. Told you I had some ideas! So, what do you think? Do you see Ford acting like this? If not…why? Genuinely, I’d like to know. Anyway, thanks for taking your time to read this. Again, sorry for the ramblings. Oh! One more thing, I know you aren’t taking art request right now, but would you be open to take them in the future? Say in 2 months time? Anyway, bye!

Well first off, thank you! I appreciate it! :D

And to answer your headcanon, I agree on it. Stan is definitely more open to talking, especially thanks to the kids. I mean there's still moments where it's hard and awkward for sure. And Ford would for sure have a harder time opening up, especially with the constant guilt and mistakes that replay over and over. And there's always that lingering feeling of "well, Stan has to hate me for what I've done" and it's always so surprising when Stan tells him differently and he never once hated Ford. Sure, was angry but never hated him. He had too much self-hatred to feel that way with Ford. And as many times as it needs to be said or repeated, it really makes all the difference when they tell each other how much they love and care for each other. As Alex said, "they're both so damaged, they desperately need each other."

As for the requests thing, most likely not. Only because I'm entering the busiest time of year for my work so it's gonna be a miracle if I even have enough energy or motivation for drawing if I'm not completely burnt out.

#ask #water-god19 #long post

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darlingdaisyfarm · 13 days ago

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Have you done headcanons about how the pines brothers(Stan and Ford) eat pussy before? :0

꒰ Stan & Ford making a meal outta you hcs ꒱

a/n: i regret nothing. i literally spent like 5 days writing this lmao + listen, if we have Stan & Ford bj headcanons, it's only fair we get Stan & Ford eating pussy hcs too, right?? anyways this is absolutely porn. i fought cringe and i won!! now i’m free to be as cringe as i want!!!

warning: nsfw!!

STANFORD

ᝰ.ᐟ he was SO awkward the first time. fidgety. fumbling. “am i doing it right? oh dear, i— tell me, please.” while your legs were literally shaking because he accidentally hit the right spot with his nerd mouth

ᝰ.ᐟ you have to guide him. gentle hand on his hair. soft praise. “right there, baby, just like that, don’t stop. yes, god, that’s perfect!” and he WHINES into your cunt like he’s found a portal to the fifth dimension idkk

ᝰ.ᐟ so eventually Ford learns and memorizes what each of your gasps mean. over time he builds a mental database of what little sighs = need more pressure, what whimpers = overstimulation, what shudders = keep going, keep going, don’t stop

ᝰ.ᐟ he is addicted. i mean Ford becomes obsessed with the idea of making you shake on his mouth

ᝰ.ᐟ i always hc that Ford is very sensual lover so he intertwines his fingers with yours during sex in general. and eating his sweetheart out is no exception. even when he's too busy to undress you properly or when he’s kneeling and can barely reach, Ford grasps your hand in his, squeezes it and holds you. he loves when you squeeze his hand when you cum

ᝰ.ᐟ he gets so overwhelmed by your taste, rutting his hips into the air like he’s suffering because he loves it too much

ᝰ.ᐟ also loves overstimulating you. like, gets you off once and then doesn't stop. pins your hips down with one arm and keeps eating you until you’re clawing at his hair, sobbing, begging for mercy

ᝰ.ᐟ kisses your clit after he's done with you<3 soft, delicate kisses like thank you thank you thank you, bc he’s grateful you let him worship you!!

ᝰ.ᐟ dont get me wrong, he’ll kiss your mouth after too. sloppy and gentle, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. he blushes about it afterward but loves it

ᝰ.ᐟ ABSOLUTELY eats you during research breaks. like he's been holed up in the basement for twelve hours, comes upstairs glassy-eyed and exhausted, yanks you onto a table and gorges himself on your pussy like it’s his only nourishment

ᝰ.ᐟ im sure he would love to eat you standing up, that's like. . . the first thought that comes to my mind. wants you standing, gripping onto a bookshelf, table or wall, and he's just kneeling below you, big hands on your hips keeping you still, burying his face in you shamelessly. bonus point if you interrupt him like that during one of his science projects. if you'll just show up at the door, wearing only his sweater and nothing underneath. he'll get the hint immediately

ᝰ.ᐟ Ford was so shy about his extra fingers at first. hesitating when you begged him to use them. “they’re— im sorry, they’re different, i might hurt you.” but you insisted. and he trusted you enough to try, so once he saw you crying and grabbing the sheets because he could reach places inside you that no one else ever could?? he became a menace. you actually gave him more confidence about his extra fingers

ᝰ.ᐟ so now he absolutely loves to scissor you open so perfectly you feel like you're breaking apart. he thrusts them deep slowly, curling them up until your stomach tightens and you cry his name

ᝰ.ᐟ PLUS loves dragging one extra finger across your clit while still eating you just to see you spasm harder

ᝰ.ᐟ he accidentally made you squirt once and then spent two hours taking notes on how he did it, yeah, Ford tell us ur secret

ᝰ.ᐟ prefers to do two things at once. licking you and fingering you deep and perfectly at the same time, curling his fingers up against your soft walls while he sucks the clit into his mouth hard. he learned this move studying you obsessively.

ᝰ.ᐟ hehehe loves when you trap his head there. he wants to get smothered.

ᝰ.ᐟ whines softly against your pussy when he’s close to cumming untouched from how sweet you taste!!! nerd.

ᝰ.ᐟ he gets dizzy when you call him good boy while he’s down there. at first he blushes and fumbles, but the first time you whimper “good boy, Ford, just like that, baby” he shudders so violently and groans in response

ᝰ.ᐟ since he's very sensual and tender lover, he also kisses down your whole body before getting there. slow and torturous. he starts with your neck, then your chest, pausing to mouth at your nipples, worshipping, then goes to your stomach, then kisses the inside of your hips before he even thinks about touching your clit. Ford talks between kisses, too. like murmuring little praises against your skin. “so beautiful. so soft”

ᝰ.ᐟ when he accidentally makes you squirt, Ford gets so obsessed with it he feels like a total pervert. the first time he’s using his fingers inside you and licking at the same time like a man possessed, and suddenly you’re gasping and flooding his mouth, and poor Ford just stares up at you stunned with his whole face dripping like “fascinating! i- was that?? made you-?” he looks SO proud. im sure he wants to print out a certificate and hang it on the wall

ᝰ.ᐟ he's lowkey addicted to the way your thighs tremble. you’ll feel his big hands gripping you harder whenever you start squirming, because he loves making you feel so weak you can't even stay upright

ᝰ.ᐟ sometimes he pulls your legs over his shoulders and just ruts his hips into the bed while eating you. he’s moaning into your cunt, getting himself off from the sheer act of tasting you. and. . . you don't even realize it at first, until you feel the mattress shaking under you and realize this man is grinding wildly into nothing like a desperate dog

ᝰ.ᐟ he uses his fucking smart tongue so good. . . mapping you out and teasing every inch. focusing carefully on your clit for long, overwhelming stretches until you’re shaking and he’s just murmuring, “you can take more, darling, just a little more for me, yes?”

ᝰ.ᐟ Ford loves to observe so he sometimes tugs your knees open wider without saying a word. especially when you’re shy. he loves gently but firmly spreading you, baring you completely, staring for some agonising seconds with those hungry eyes before ducking back in with a desperate groan

ᝰ.ᐟ Ford gets breathless when he eats you out. poor boy working so hard to please you that he’s short of air and it makes his mouth sloppier, wetter, hotter.

ᝰ.ᐟ he gets so into it he forgets time exists. you have to physically pull him off sometimes. lips puffy, eyes glazed, hair a mess. and he looks up, raising his eyebrows “did i do something wrong?”

ᝰ.ᐟ he leaves marks WITHOUT realising. for example, suction bruises on your inner thighs

ᝰ.ᐟ will write about it later in his personal journal. entry titled ‘reactions observed from beloved subject during intimate oral exploration’

ᝰ.ᐟ he loves when you guide his head, push it deeper. tell him he’s good. tell him he’s yours. call him your genius, your good boy. he eats it up, literally and figuratively

ᝰ.ᐟ he's pretty strong, so once he gets into his pussy drunk state, he pulls your thighs wide apart and pushes them to your chest. gets his shoulders under them so you can’t move. so he can eat you with his whole face

ᝰ.ᐟ Ford wants you above him. sitting on his face. so he can grip your thighs and keep you there. grind on his mouth and smother him. he’ll edge himself while he does it. sometimes doesn’t even let himself cum because you always just cum first

ᝰ.ᐟ he wants to make you cry from pleasure. not just cum. cry. shuddering, sobbing, overstimmed, shaking all over, with your legs twitching and your fingers buried in his silver hair. that’s his goal. every time.

ᝰ.ᐟ and when he’s done, he pants against your cunt and asks “did i do well? will you let me again? please?”

STANLEY

ᝰ.ᐟ ohh that man dives in like a fucking dog who found a steak in the trash

ᝰ.ᐟ Stan believes eating pussy is a man's duty and pride. he thinks it’s the hottest thing in the world. he doesn't even expect anything back half the time, he just wants to see you all needy and desperate for him

ᝰ.ᐟ in fact, is obsessed with it. he will eat you out on the COUCH. in the BACKSEAT. in the SHOWER. standing in the KITCHEN because “lemme get my mouth on that sweet thing, c’mon. been thinking about you all damn day.”

ᝰ.ᐟ he doesn’t care about being sloppy. i mean, he WANTS to be messy. soak his face, give him that mess. he’ll rub his nose against your clit and grin when you moan. he likes to talk with his mouth full

ᝰ.ᐟ he’s so good at it. like scary good. like make-you-cry good. because. . . Stan actually gives a shit. he listens, watches your face, keeps his tongue right where you twitch and he’ll tease you like “right there, huh? that’s the spot? i could do this all night, baby”

ᝰ.ᐟ “some folks just go for the clit. amateurs.” he knows how to tease, so when he's in the right mood, he starts slow. lips kissing up your thighs. tongue barely grazing you. he won’t even touch your pussy at first. he’ll hover there, warm breath on your folds, smirking. “you want it, huh? say it. beg me.”

ᝰ.ᐟ gets so fucking cocky when you squirm. you try to close your legs and he just pins them wide with his elbows and keeps licking, “nuh-uh, baby. don’t run from it now. lemme take care of you.”

ᝰ.ᐟ such a fucking tease tbh. he wants you spread out and begging. makes soft licks, hot breath, little kisses so close but not quite until you're whimpering “please Stan, please touch me.” then he grins so wide and dives in

ᝰ.ᐟ he talks while eating. "fuck baby, you’re so sweet—mmph— keep makin’ them sounds, huh? you like ridin’ my tongue, don’t ya? greedy little thing.” god, Stan never shuts up. just keeps mouthing at your clit between sentences

ᝰ.ᐟ “that’s it, baby. drip all over my fuckin' face. yeah, you miss me, huh? missed this mouth, didn’t ya?”

ᝰ.ᐟ slaps your thighs mid-act. that usually means “stay still, sweetheart, lemme do my job.” in his language

ᝰ.ᐟ he’ll pull you down onto his mouth, slap your cheeks, moan into your folds like he’s drowning and he loves it!!

ᝰ.ᐟ Stan grinds into the mattress sometimes while he’s doing it. gets so turned on that he humps the sheets like a teenage boy

ᝰ.ᐟ kisses your thighs after. “damn, you’re delicious. gimme five minutes, ill do it again.” he means it, you know it

ᝰ.ᐟ uh. . . imagine him dragging your panties down with his teeth, grinning at you the whole time

ᝰ.ᐟ and then shoving your thighs apart roughly before he eats you. loves to pick you up, set you down on the bed, and manhandle your legs open without giving you time to be shy. “lemme see that pretty little thing, doll, c’mon.”

ᝰ.ᐟ absolutely shoves your panties in his pocket after eating you out <3

ᝰ.ᐟ buries his face so deep you think you might suffocate him, but. . . he literally doesn’t care if he can’t breathe. he will drown in you happily!!

ᝰ.ᐟ loves eating you while you’re still wearing half your clothes. theres just smth hot about it, like he couldn’t wait long enough to get you fully naked. shirt bunched up, panties shoved to the side, pants around one ankle, etc

ᝰ.ᐟ oh boy, he sucks on your sensitive clit in little pulsing motions and that makes your toes curl and your hips buck. and he LAUGHS when you try to wiggle away, like “nah-uh, baby, stay right there”

ᝰ.ᐟ gets so drunk on your taste. . . genuinely slurring afterwards, dazed and happy, wiping his chin with the back of his hand “fuuuck baby, you taste better than anythin’ in this world”

ᝰ.ᐟ licks you slow and teasing when you’re being bratty. like if you mouth off at him he’ll go extra slow, keeping you on edge for hours just to punish you, refusing to let you cum until you’re sobbing and begging

ᝰ.ᐟ will literally fuck you with his mouth, Stanley makes a fucking mess every time and your whole lower half is drenched

ᝰ.ᐟ he grunts into your pussy when you pull his hair. gosh just imagine hearing that “mmfhh, goddamn, yeahh” sound. id cry

ᝰ.ᐟ sometimes cums untouched while eating you. especially if you praise him because man's got a heavy praise kink “good boy, such a good boy for me, Stan, just like that” he whimpers against you and next thing you know he’s cumming in his pants

ᝰ.ᐟ if he’s eating you bent over, he’s slapping your ass every other second. “c’mon, baby, stay still— slap— fuck, you taste so good—slap—don’t run from me now, sweetheart” while laughing under his breath when you squeal

ᝰ.ᐟ eats you even when he’s drunk. like, you’re trying to get him to come to bed and he’s got his face between your thighs, half-dozing off, still licking you lazily while mumbling against you, “mm. . . just a little taste, baby, lemme finish my dessert first”

ᝰ.ᐟ absolutely loves to do it during a movie night. just casually slides down his armchair, spreads your legs over his shoulders, eats you under the blanket while the TV flickers <33 romantic isnt it? Stan craves physical closeness so he wants your thighs around his ears, your heels digging into his back, your fingers twisted in his hair

ᝰ.ᐟ hear me out okay?. . . uh, mullet!Stan + tongue-piercing?? he definitely thinks about getting a tongue piercing at some point just to “drive you crazy, doll”

ᝰ.ᐟ anyways, honestly if you’re loud he will double down on how hard he sucks and licks just to keep it going

ᝰ.ᐟ and if you're into it: slaps your clit before starting. just a little teasing smack<3

ᝰ.ᐟ sometimes i look at this man and think. . . he loves to eat it from the back. Stan likes to pull your hips up, spread you wide, growl into your folds. he makes your thighs shake and your knees buckle as you’re gasping and trying not to collapse under him

ᝰ.ᐟ in most cases, he jerks himself off while he eats you out

ᝰ.ᐟ im sure he's a face sitting guy. i mean they both are, but Stan's not that shy to ask you to do it. literally begs you to ride his face. grabs your hips and drags you down onto him, smirking up at you, “c’mon, baby, sit on me, lemme taste you proper.” and dont even try to whine about your weight or that you're shy or whatever. Stan doesn't really care and he's pretty strong enough to hold you.

ᝰ.ᐟ it's not just “he lets you ride his face” NAH, STAN ENCOURAGES IT. and bounces his hips up while you grind down onto his mouth, groaning into you because you’re the best meal he’s ever had!!!

ᝰ.ᐟ and he keeps slapping your ass every time you try to pull away. because, “nope, you’re staying right here, princess”

ᝰ.ᐟ tell you what, he’ll literally order you to “fuck his face”. “c'mon sweetheart, ride it. don't be shy now.” while grinding you down onto his tongue until you can’t even think straight

ᝰ.ᐟ he’s tongue-fucking you stupid

ᝰ.ᐟ and i think he loves cleaning you up with his tongue after you squirt, if you did

ᝰ.ᐟ sucks your clit like he’s trying to drink you dry 😭 idkk, i don't make the rules. he's got no mercy and he's ruthless. he’ll tongue you hard and messy, then back off and spit right onto your clit to make it even wetter, then suck again

ᝰ.ᐟ prefers to stay between your legs after you cum. Stan doesn’t pull away immediately. he licks you through the aftershocks, chuckling when you twitch and whimper from overstimulation

ᝰ.ᐟ uhh. . . sometimes he eats you out just because he’s horny. i mean, not even to get sex out of it. just because he needs to taste you or hear you moan. he just wants to make you feel good

ᝰ.ᐟ listen listen!! Stan 100% leaves handprints on your ass. after eating you out bent over the desk, the mirror, the back of his car. whatever. you look later and there’s full red handprints where he gripped you to spread you open

ᝰ.ᐟ of course, he fingers you while eating but he's more rough (or better word, desperate and passionate) about it. shoving thick fingers deep, twisting them while he tongues your clit, making you arch and wail for him

ᝰ.ᐟ Stan will bite the inside of your thighs during it, that's what im 100% sure of. like soft little sharp nips to leave marks. then grins proudly at them later like “my pretty thing all marked up for me.”

ᝰ.ᐟ he’ll put one arm across your belly to hold you down. needs to feel you squirm under him. he loves when you say “Stan, too much—please” and he just goes “nah, baby, not done yet.”

ᝰ.ᐟ afterwards, he lights a cigarette, and says “you’re gonna marry me, right?”

#gravity falls x reader #gravity falls x you #ford pines x reader #x reader #gravity falls smut #stan pines x reader #stanford pines #ford pines smut #stanley pines #gravity falls #stanford pines x you #stanford pines x reader #stanley pines smut #stanley pines x you #stan pines smut #stanley pines x reader #ford pines #stan pines x you #stan pines

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tinfoil-jones · 6 months ago

Text

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 11

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

First - Prev - Next

CH. 11

“One paddle-paddle, two paddle-paddle-.”

“HEYYY! Miss me, little brother?”

“...What the f-”

“It’s ironic! You used to smother me, with your dependency and lack of originality. Now I’m smothering you, by keeping you in a cage. It’s poetic, in a way.”

“...What are you supposed to be?”

“It’s just me, Stanford Pines. I’m definitely your twin brother, and not a maniac who kidnapped you because I can’t admit when I’m wrong or accept that I push people away.”

“Naw, you’re not him.”

“I assure you-.”

“No. Whatever you are? You’re not the guy who's been keeping me down here. You’re something else.”

“Oh?”

“This some… Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde situation? You one of those hive mind aliens that possess people? Or…?”

“Sixer was right to not underestimate you, conman. Let’s just say I’m a friend.”

“I’ve heard that before, but I recognize another wiseguy when I see one. What do you really want?”

“Why are you in denial, Stanley?”

“Denial is my fourth best skill, actually. It’s right above hoeing, and right below theft.”

“...Ignoring that. Why do you keep insisting you’re not Stanley Pines?”

“Show me the proof, guy.”

“You and Stanford have the same face.”

“Some people are just like that.”

“You have no memory of having a family, but Fordsy here has a gap in his, a gap you could slot into so easily.”

“Lot’s of families ‘lose’ members to homelessness.”

“Sounding a little bitter there, conman. Got personal feelings about that?”

“People aren’t ‘lost’ to homelessness, they’re forgotten. For the comfort of everyone else; for people who love to wax poetically about how other people struggle, but don’t have the stomach to look at it with their own eyes.”

“Well, well, well, well, well-.”

“Buddy, you get a nickel every time you say that?”

“Funny. What’s also funny is your ‘deep insight’. You’re so mad about people like you being forgotten, and yet… You forgot you.”

“What’s your point?”

“Why are you afraid of remembering? Are you afraid that you’ll remember loving people who couldn’t be bothered to remember you?”

“You seem to think you know a lot about me. Why don’t you tell me?”

“I think you cling to this ‘hardcore vagabond with no past’ persona because it’s convenient for you. Because it’s less painful for you. I think you wanted something so bad at one point that it consumed you, and when you couldn’t have it, there wasn’t anything significant left of you.”

“Wow. That’s quite a theory. Wanna hear the one I have about you?”

“Hit me, conman.”

“Oh, I wish I could. My theory is that you’re a lonely, nosey, parasitic little bi-.”

*‘Ford’ presses the mute button*

“Sorry Stanley, but I’m getting the last laugh here- and you’re giving me the bird. No, two birds. The audience will never know if you’re actually doing that, or if I’m just saying that you are.”

(...)

“Hey, Doc?”

“Yes, Stanley?”

“You know how I normally don’t ask you questions about your life because you’re crazy and I’m here against my will?”

“...Are you about to ask me a question?”

“Did you make a Faustian bargain with some eldritch abomination?”

“...What?!”

“Or… Do you use cocaine? I’d believe either, but I can help you with that second one if that’s it; you see, the key to kicking the habit is-.”

“Stanley. Why are you asking this?”

“Because last night something possessed you and tried talking to me about my feelings. But it failed because I don’t have any. What was that?”

“...Nothing possessed me.”

“PhD, you are terrible at lying.”

“Nobody possessed me! You must have just been dreaming.”

“No, I don’t have dreams. I only have nightmares about being suffocated. Or the IRS. Or the IRS suffocating me.”

“...What?”

“Are you a Warlock?”

“A- a what?”

“There’s this game that dorks play - and there's elves, and wizards, and stuff. Warlocks are those guys who use magic, but they have to get it from otherworldly entities. Are you that? Is that what you are?”

“...You are talking about the tabletop roleplaying game, Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons?”

“Yes.”

“You.. play that?”

“No. I never played it.”

“But you know the mechanics?”

“Some of it. Just the basic stuff. None of the actual- I don’t know, rules? Something something something D38; something something something THAC0.”

“How do you know?”

“I dunno, I don’t think too hard about it. Anyways, so you’re a Warlock and you’re hiding it because your patron, boss, eldritch pimp, or whatever you wanna call it is gonna be mad at you? Is that what this is?”

“Stanley, please. Stuff like that is simply… fantasy.”

“Oh really? This is coming from the guy who has an anatomically accurate poster of a dissected fairy that you drew yourself.”

“...You can see that?”

“Why wouldn’t I? It’s right over there.”

“Stanley, you should not be able to see that. It’s too far away, and you’re not wearing glasses or contacts.”

“Doc, I don’t need glasses.”

“You have needed them our entire lives, just like I do. You have a bad habit of breaking them, or not wearing them because you think you won’t look cool.”

“Shows just how much you know. Are you gonna tell me what that thing last night was? Or are you going to keep changing the topic and hope that I get too distracted to follow up?”

“Nothing happened last night. I’m not a warlock. I can’t believe you lied to me all those years ago when you told me you ignored all of my long talks about the finer mechanics and lore surrounding DD&D. And you should need glasses.”

*Ford goes upstairs*

“Well, guess I have nothing better to do than to take a nap. I wonder how the IRS is going to suffocate me this time…”

To be continued…

#for your own good #early amnesia au #mystery trio #fords evil basement sub-lab #Stan calling Ford anything but his name #ford isn't beating the mad scientist allegations anytime soon #gravity falls #cross posted on ao3 #fanfic #fanfiction #stanley pines #stan pines #stanford pines #ford pines #bill cipher

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42ap · 4 months ago

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One morning, in the Oregon shack, Stanford, Stanley, and Fiddleford were having breakfast together. Fiddleford brought up a paper he’d recently read, The Evolution of Social Attitudes Towards Homosexual Relationships in 20th-Century America: A Historical Analysis, and shared some of the views it mentioned. For example, gay men might tend to pursue fashionable and personalized styles of clothing and have a higher appreciation for pop music, dance music, and the arts. Additionally, they might show a distinctive social behavior pattern with more frequent and intimate interactions within their social circles.

Stanley: Ha, I always thought men who liked theater were kind of sissy.

Stanford: I think the article oversimplifies things. Just because someone likes art doesn’t mean they’re necessarily gay.

Fiddleford: That’s true, just like being gay doesn’t necessarily mean you enjoy theater. I don’t believe that a gay man’s social behavior can be summarized; there are always exceptions. And those who haven’t acknowledged their orientation haven’t been observed either. They probably just seem like regular people, like you and me.

Fiddleford: Haha, but a guy like Stanley probably wouldn’t be mistaken, right?

Stanley: Oh, no, I’ve been with a guy before. But you can’t tell, right?

Fiddleford: Hold on.

Fiddleford: Raccoons doing the jitterbug! You’ve been with a guy??

Stanley: Yeah, it was a long time ago. We were in high school, and we broke up ages ago.

Fiddleford: Wow… that’s… unexpected, in every way. I thought you were into women; I even saw you flirting with Susan at the diner. Don’t you like women?

Stanley: I’ve only been with that one guy. But I guess gender doesn’t mean much to me—I’m open either way. Sex is just sex; as long as there’s chemistry, it’s fine.

Fiddleford: So, back in high school, it was just about sex? Then I’m not sure that would classify as a gay relationship since straight men do that kind of thing too—sorry if that’s too blunt.

Stanley: No problem, I don’t mind. We’re just chatting. We did go on dates a lot, so I guess we were pretty serious back then.

Fiddleford: So it was a relationship? You must have faced a lot of pressure back then.

Stanley: Yeah, some.

Fiddleford: Who confessed first?

Stanley thinking: I don’t think… anyone confessed. We just ended up together.

Fiddleford: You didn’t talk about it? How does that even happen?

Stanford: It happened naturally, just going with feelings.

Stanley: Lust, that’s what it was.

Fiddleford: Wait, uh, Ford, you knew about this?

Stanford: I did.

Fiddleford: Well, that makes sense; you’re twins, after all. I guess secrets are hard to keep. So, when did you two break up?

Stanley: Right around graduation. He was a good student and wanted to go to college in another city. I didn’t care for school and wanted to work right away. We couldn’t agree, so we just split up.

Fiddleford: You didn’t try long-distance?

Stanley: You know that never works. Thinking that letters and calls can keep a relationship going—that’s a lie told by cowards who don’t have the courage to break up. Right, Ford?

Stanford: True enough.

Fiddleford: Makes sense. Sounds like you’ve thought about this for a long time. So, were you the one who broke it off?

Stanley: No, it wasn’t me.

Fiddleford: Oh… I’m sorry. That must have been hard on you. My first breakup had me crying with my banjo in my room for three days. How long did you cry?

Stanley: I didn’t cry.

Fiddleford: Really?

Stanley: It’s been a long time. Everyone goes through breakups; I don’t care anymore.

Fiddleford: But it was your first love, and you broke up over something like that. It’s a shame. Have you kept in touch since?

Stanley: Yeah, we have.

Fiddleford: And now that you’re both working, you haven’t tried to—

Stanley: —Oh, no. No way. Getting back with an ex is just plain stupid.

Fiddleford: But you were happy together, weren’t you? Honestly, distance isn’t an insurmountable problem, and you didn’t break up because of a loss of love. If it were me, I’d at least try to see if it could work.

Stanley: You’ve got the wrong idea. We broke up pretty badly. But yeah, I still have some good memories.

Fiddleford: Oh?

Stanley: We used to go to the beach a lot. We didn’t do much, just talked. Well, and other things. The beach was right by our town. It was beautiful when there weren’t people around, so we’d skip class and go there in the afternoons. A few years back, when I passed through our hometown, I went to see it. Now it’s a tourist spot, packed with people.

Fiddleford: Skipping class? Didn’t you say he was a good student? Why would he skip class?

Stanley: Yeah, why indeed?

Fiddleford: Right? I mean, with all the homework, studying, and essays, I was constantly busy back then. How did he manage it?

Stanley: Huh, I never thought about that.

Stanley: Ford, how did you manage it back then?

Stanforddrizzling maple syrup on pancakes: Stayed up late doing homework.

Stanley: Ah, so that’s it—stayed up late doing homework.

Fiddleford: Oh.

Fiddleford: Wait, hold on.

#GravityFalls #GravityFallsFanart #Stancest #FordPines #StanPines #ArtistsOnTumblr

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itsharleystuff · 2 years ago

Text

↳ II. 𝘍𝘐𝘓𝘓 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘝𝘖𝘐𝘋

Read part one here.

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dbf!Joel Miller x afab!fem reader (no outbreak au).

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.6k (once again, I’m sorry)

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after your steamy encounter with Joel during your homecoming party, things between you have been stagnant. Although, fate seems to be on your side when both Sarah and your dad have to leave town for a short while.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), sex, p in v sex, Joel hits it from behind, blowjobs, some teasing, a bit of spanking, pet names (darling, sweetheart, honey), unprotected sex (pls do not attempt), cum eating, taking nsfw photos, Joel tries to be dom but fails, age gap (reader is twenty four, Joel is late forties), reader is kind of a brat, fluff and feelings (yes, this is a warning), alcohol consumption, brief mention of family death. Barely edited, sorryyy. No use of y/n.

—A/N: this can be read as a stand-alone but I suggest reading the previous part for a better understanding. Btw, there’s a couple of Easter eggs from the game in this! Also— I tried making a moodboard and I’m not sure how I feel about it. I’ll probably stick to gifs in the future, lol.

“I like Indiana Jones," you babble, taking a sip from your coffee without looking at anyone in specific. "I was twelve and in love with Harrison Ford..."

"Okay, so that's one movie we're definitely not going to watch." Sarah chimes in, lazily chewing on her scrambled eggs. "How do you feel about Robert Pattinson?"

"That depends," you reply, moving your head side to side in a contemplative manner, "are we talking twilight or Harry Potter?"

You hear your dad snort on the other side of the table and see Joel chuckling beside him. Sarah crosses both arms over her chest and raises a brow at them. “What's so funny?"

"Nothing," your dad clears his throat and side-eyes his friend. "Just thought you two were a bit old for those crappy vampire movies. Maybe watch-"

"Forgive me, but I don't think it's a good idea to take recommendations from either of you," you cut him off, leaning back on your chair. "You're both obsessed with die hard, think The Godfather is incredibly complex and in your spare time watch construction programs. We'll be fine on our own."

"Touché..."

It's been three weeks since your homecoming party, and ever since then it has become a habit to have breakfast together every weekend. Today, Saturday, it was the Miller's turn to cook, which consequently had you and your father sitting at their table. As of now, you and Sarah were discussing your movie night, which had to be postponed due to her road-trip to San Antonio— apparently, she and her friend Ellie were going to visit some college campuses there.

It's also been three weeks since that little, hot encounter you and Joel had in your kitchen. And, contrary to your better judgement, both of you were more than eager to spend some extra time alone. Things since then had been uneasy, specially when being surrounded by others; always worried that someone might notice those stolen looks you'd share or sense the palpable tension that rose when you would stand too close to each other.

You try not to think about it. Except when you do. A swirl of memories would come flooding your mind in the most inappropriate moments, creating that heat that made you remember exactly how his fingers felt inside you, his tongue between your folds, the sloppy kisses and that feral, hungry look in his eyes while eating you out, touching you like you were the most precious thing on earth.

"How about pride and prejudice?" the girl wonders, standing up to clean her dishes and snapping you back to reality.

"Shit, I love period dramas!" your dad shoots you a reproachful glare at your language, but you chose to ignore it. "As a matter of fact, most of my designs are inspired by the Victorian and regency eras."

"Oh, yeah," Sarah recalls, "I remember I read about it in one of your blogs. Dad showed it to me, by the way..." Joel clears his throat loudly, making her giggle.

Although she had mentioned it before, it was still kind of weird that he acknowledged your work. At first you thought it was merely because he wanted to connect with you somehow, but lately he'd been asking if he could see your new sketches and would let you borrow some old magazines he had around the house. Your best friend, Sophie, mentioned he might've been trying to show his interest in you subconsciously. And she was that one psychic friend who believed in zodiac signs and angel numbers, so you decided to believe her.

In that moment, your dad receives an incoming call on his cellphone; he excuses himself and heads to the living room. Your eyes lock with Joel's, and the fact that he was uninhibitedly staring back at you drew a smug smile on your face.

"Are you interested in fashion, Mr. Miller?" he sulks out a dry 'no', but you could see him fidget with his watch nervously. "Pity. I thought maybe you could model some of my male designs."

Sarah genuinely cracks up at your comment, slapping one hand on the table. "You want dad to pose for you? Seriously?"

"Why not? I brought my Polaroid camera, I can get some very nice shots." You were partially joking, but deep down you just wanted to see how he'd react.

"I mean, I know dad's got his charm with women, or so they keep saying-"

"No way anyone says that," he rambles.

"But the idea of him modeling is probably the funniest thing I've ever heard."

The fact was that you didn't want to take pictures of him so anyone else could see them. You wanted them exclusively for yourself. A couple of naughty Polaroids to keep around for whenever you were aching for him —which has been nearly every fucking night since your arrival—.

"It was a silly idea," you finally agree, shrugging. Joel stands to take his things to the sink. "Do you really have to leave for the weekend? You're like, my only friend here."

"Uh, about that..." she leans in towards you and you can practically smell a scheme on her. "Would you be mad if I gave your number to someone?"

You can quite literally feel the man standing behind you tense up. "Huh?"

"Yeah, like... To a guy." She moves in her place, but there's still no answer from you. "He's my English teacher. His name is Will and he's super smart, young, really funny and very handsome, I might add. I believe he can be your new male model." Sarah adds that last bit with a grin.

When you turn your head to see Joel, there was a deep scowl etching on his face, his body remaining still as a stone.

"I don't know... As friends, maybe." You weren't sure why, but the idea of meeting anyone new didn't really sound appealing.

She opened her mouth to say something but before she could actually do so, your dad walked in again. He appeared upset, gesturing nonsense and muttering impassively.

"What's wrong?" your tone comes out concerned.

"I have a meeting in Boston," he sighed, resting a hand on your shoulder apologetically. "Apparently it's urgent and I have to catch the next flight if I want to be there by nightfall."

"Oh, don't worry," you smile at him warmly. "I understand. Besides, I'm an adult. I can manage a weekend by myself."

He nods, still seemingly aloof. "I know but- I just wanted to spend some more time with you."

And of course you wanted that too, but saying it out loud could literally bring him to quit his job. He was always very extreme when it came down to you.

"What time d’you leave?" his friend asks him.

"Half past four. Why?"

"I can drop Sarah off at Ellie's and then drive you to the airport, if you'd like." Such a caring friend, Joel Miller. So selfless. Helping your dad out, attending his daughter's every special need...

"Yeah, thanks a lot, man. Take care of my little girl while I'm away."

You see his eyes gleam with a mix of unknown emotions, "Will do."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The last few days had been no less than torment for Joel. Each moment that went by in which he didn't get a chance to be near you had him losing his mind. Badly. And it wasn't necessarily a physical thing— not always, at least.

Every morning, he would wake up and go to work, knowing for certain that when he comes back home he'll find you hanging around with Sarah or sitting out on your porch with a sketching notebook on your lap.

He liked to guess what you'd be doing.

Would you be playing board games with his daughter? Watching a movie or baking desserts? Maybe you were thrift shopping with your dad or simply going to the mall. And later on, when he finally gets to see you again, you'd tell him all about it.

Joel also liked to imagine what kind of clothes you'd be wearing. One thing he noticed is that you never stick to one particular style or aesthetic. One day you could be wearing pastel sundresses with ribbons in your hair; the next one could be long, black skirts paired with basic tank tops and multiple necklaces, or even something more extravagant, depending on your mood.

Seeing you was an experience— one that he could never get tired of. It's like every time he sets his eyes on you there's a certain color palette that changes constantly, or the feeling of gathering all your favorite songs into one playlist and then hitting the shuffle button. He never knows what to expect. Hence why he had given up on trying to relate you to the silly things around; like seasons, animals, artists or foods. Instead, he started associating you with feelings.

You were creative, unique and incredibly fearless. In a way, you made him feel uneasy, excited, thrilled, confident and many more emotions at the same time. If he had to describe you in one word, he'd say evoking.

Oh, how you pestered his brain.

He hated how much he thought about you, and how little guilt he felt from it.

Right now he was sitting on the drivers seat of his truck, waiting at the airport's parking lot. You asked him if you could walk your dad to his corresponding gate and he agreed. The downside: it had started to rain, probably not too bad for your dad's flight to be delayed but enough for your clothes to get soaked on your way back.

"Shit, I'm sorry," you muttered, shutting the passenger's door behind you. “The seats are gonna get all wet..."

"Here," Joel takes off his jacket to place it over your shoulders.

It feels warm and it smells like him, "Thanks."

He starts the car without saying anything else, keeping his eyes glued to the road. You, on the other hand, could not stop staring at him. Now that no one else was around, there was no shame in admiring his side profile, the way his muscles flexed and his hands grasped the wheel. There was something inherently attractive about men driving, but- Jesus... This image had your mind roaming around dark places.

Suddenly, realization sinks in— you're alone.

Alone with him.

"I, uh..." he taps the wheel with his thumb, still avoiding your gaze. "I wanted to take you out for dinner. The weather kinda ruined it."

The corners of your mouth hitch up in a silly smile. "Too bad. I really didn't want to be alone tonight."

Joel hums, appearing somewhat distraught. In reality, he was fighting for his life. The clothes you chose to wear today were not fitted for the rain; denim mini-skirt, high pair of boots and a white top that complimented your upper body. He tried not to look at the raindrops rolling down your thighs or note how transparent your shirt has become, forcing himself to stare at your hands and the many rings that decorated your fingers, seeing there the one he gifted you.

"How about you come over to my place?" you suggest, trying to catch his attention. "I'll need a shower and a change of clothes but... Maybe we can do something afterwards."

His tongue darts out to lick his lips, still avoiding your gaze, "Like what?"

This time your voice goes lower, a smirk spreads across your face and something in your eyes flickers; a darker, sensual spark.

"Oh, you know..." your hand carefully comes to rest on his knee. His thigh tenses but he doesn't say or do anything to push you away. "Whatever you want."

He swallows hard, feeling the pads of your fingers run circles on his leg, your nails mildly scratching over the jeans in a way that raises goosebumps on his skin and eases his nerves.

"I've got a better idea," he says, keeping his tone calm —barely—. "Why don't you come to my house instead?"

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, "Sure, but- what about my clothes?"

And then he smiles cockily, as if this had been his plan all along, "Wear mine."

Well, there was absolutely no way you were going to turn him down. With a bit more boldness, you slide your hand a few inches up his inner thigh, still rubbing soothing patterns. His jaw clenched, but remained silent and apparently unbothered.

"Joel?" his name rolled off your tongue sweetly, in a way only you knew how to. He uttered a 'hm?' in retort. "Did you miss me?"

"I've seen you nearly every day," he answers playfully.

You laugh, stopping your movements and simply resting your palm there. "So... No?"

"Didn't say that, darlin'." The truck suddenly stops at a red light as he exhales heavily, giving in to you at last. "But I'll let you guess."

A push and pull game, like a cat chasing a mouse. Your smirk widens. "I don't think so. Not as much as I have."

His eyes scan your body from head to toe, the way you sit with your legs slightly parted, back laying flat against the seat and face turned towards him with heated cheeks and low gaze. Unexpectedly, your hand draws back from his lap as you start looking through your purse and a frown forms on his face, baffled by the loss of contact.

"Which is why..." you take the Polaroid camera out and see a whole shift in his eyes, like he's about to burst in laughter. "I brought this."

"No," despite his categorical denial, you still held the object up.

"You have a green light," he curses under his breath and you hold back a chuckle. "Just let me have one, please."

He sighs in defeat, "Why'd you want that?"

The rain had started to settle down but the air was still pretty cold, all that could be heard besides your own voices being the drops that crashed against the car.

"Cause you're handsome," he rolls his eyes sarcastically. "And I like you."

Hell, you were always so straightforward. It made his heart jump inside his chest, wondering if it was gonna burst out.

"You won't like me as much once you meet that Will dude," Joel prattles through gritted teeth, remembering his daughter's suggestion from earlier.

"The guy Sarah mentioned?" your brows furrow subtly. "Why? What's up with him?"

He yanks his head to the side, glancing over at you for a second, "Nothin'. Just thinkin' out loud." In spite of your puzzled expression, he decides to grant your wish. "I'll let ya' take it. But only if I get one in return."

Your lips purse in a smile, "As many as you like, Miller."

He doesn't say anything in response, but his grin doesn’t fade either and you managed to capture it on paper. The image slowly started to become visible and your first thought was how well it captured the whole 'Joel Miller' essence. It was a simple photo of him driving with one hand on the wheel and the other arm thrown lazily over the backseat. That denim shirt hugged his arms exquisitely, the rolled-up sleeves adding to his appeal. He was looking at you when it was taken, so you could see more than half his face— and the way he was grinning, you couldn't help but think he appeared so much younger when he did that. The entire thing felt so much like him: snuggly, blue, genuine and you absolutely loved it.

"There," you show it to him as he started to pull over. "Isn't it nice?"

"Just keep it to yourself, aight?" the man grumbles.

"F'course," with a spark of joy, you slide the photo inside your wallet. "Wouldn't want anyone else peeking at that gorgeous smile of yours. That's a treasure of my own."

"Shut up-" he rumbled, turning his face the other way and opening the door, seemingly flustered. And out of all the amazing things you've accomplished in your life, making this rugged looking man blush was probably your greatest pride.

When he helps you out of the car, holding your hand firmly and cleaving to your waist; you wanted nothing more than to kiss him under the pouring rain, wildly and unhinged, just like last time. But this particular spot possibly had too many curious eyes of which you were unaware of. He obviously doesn't need to guide you through his house, since you already know nearly every corner of it, except for one. His bedroom. And apparently, that's the precise location he's taking you to.

"Please excuse the mess," he says, placing one hand on the door handle, "I haven't had a woman in here for ages, so I'm afraid I probably won't live up to your expectations."

"Joel," you snort, "it's been a decade and a half since you last dated anyone. Trust me, my expectations are pretty low."

He scowls, squinting both eyes. "You didn't have to say it like that..."

It's honestly better than you thought. His bed is nicely done, brown bedsheets striking as warm and welcoming; the walls were painted a pretty, light shade of blue that matched the grayish curtains on the left. The drawers in front of his windows had a bunch of stuff scattered on top of them: a CD player along with a few music discs, some papers, a cap and a pair of reading glasses, batteries, one screwdriver and a framed picture of him and Sarah at the beach. Meanwhile, the nightstand simply had one lamp and an alarm-clock on it. Over the bed's headboard were one poster of a music festival, the image of a landscape and an advert of what you guessed must've been a club, that read 'tacos and beer" on it. The door to the bathroom was on the right.

Messy, yet tidy at the same time. Very Joel-like.

"No way..." you murmur, eyeing the guitar beside his bed. "All this time I thought it was a myth."

"What?" he asks from behind you.

"Dad told me you used to serenade girls back in college and that you wanted to become a singer." A giggle escapes your lips, unable to contain it. "I remember saying he was surely making it up, but..."

"I didn't- I mean..." he clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck and feeling his chest swell with your laughter. "Oh, shut up!"

"Make me." The lingering, mischievous smile on your face made his heart pound and blood rush. "Come on, Miller. Shut me up, I dare you."

His eyes darken, but you don't falter for a second. He doesn't move a muscle, solely watching as you took off his jacket and threw it to the bed.

"You dare me?" his voice goes drops an octave, following your every move closely. "That's rather bold of you, sweetheart."

"Mhm," without breaking eye contact, you start taking off your boots. "And yet you're doing nothing about it."

Joel starts walking towards you slowly, holding your gaze intently. Your hair was damp and your clothes were still wet; it didn't really matter that the air was chilly cause you still felt warm all over. He soon invades your space, cupping your chin in his big hand and lifting your head upwards.

"Well, you're awfully quiet now, aren't ya'?" his hot breath fanned across your cheeks, the gap between your faces being basically invisible.

"I'm just waiting for you to start singing some random song by Alabama or Johnny Cash," you scoff. "Like a good ol' Texan ma-"

He doesn't let you finish the sentence, abruptly crashing his lips into your own. Joel isn't delicate about it and the fervor with which he kisses you makes your body stumble a few steps backwards. Your shoulders hit the wall and he pins you against it as your mouths find a way to mold perfectly, at a much nicer pace than last time. You throw your hands around his neck and let your fingers tangle in the curls around his nape, tasting the fresh mint on his lips. His hands rest on your hips, chests pressed together as the temperature kept rising with each second that went on.

You part your lips in order to grant him deeper access, feeling his tongue slide past your teeth and meeting your own in an ardent, heated way. It was perfect, until he broke apart, looking down at you with an asserted confidence.

"You really know nothing 'bout country music," he says in between shaky breaths, beaming. "S'that what you wanted?"

"Yes," you manage to say.

"Then say 'thank you'," Joel indicates petulantly, stroking your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. "Go on, don't be such a brat."

You blink twice, your brain still buzzing with the sensation of mouth on you, barely capable of processing anything else. "But I want more..."

"You'll take what I give you."

Shit, when he said it like that- "Thank you."

"That's my girl," he straightened his back, opening the door next to you. "Now, get your pretty ass in the shower before you catch a cold, 'kay?" You roll your eyes and hear him chuckle. "There's clean towers under the sink. You can take some clothes from my drawers, or Sarah's if you feel like it. I don't think she'll mind."

"Understood." He can tell you're annoyed, which he finds funny.

"Don't be mad at me, angel." Joel tugs a strand of hair behind your ear. "Promise I'll make it up to you."

You nod distractedly, lost in the cocky spark on his eyes. "I'm not mad. Just hoping you fuck me real good if you're making me wait for it."

Your words almost make him choke on his own saliva. "Sweetheart, you're making it real hard for me to be a gentleman."

It makes your ego boost, in a sense. "I'll be quick. Can you get something for dinner, though? I'm starving."

"Shit, darlin', pick a struggle," he mocks as you enter the bathroom, "are you horny or hungry?"

"Oh, you jerk!"

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

6:15 pm.

You take a quick glance at Joel's alarm clock once you come out of the shower. It's been little more than an hour since your dad's plane took off. You hope the rain hadn’t made his flight any difficult, cause the weather turned out to be quite a blessing for you.

The cozy feeling of a nice, warm shower after being soaked under the rain was starting to settle in your bones, making your limbs relax. Then you realize, you smell like Joel. The scent of his soap, his shampoo, even his laundry detergent, is all over you. It's intoxicating in the most fantastic way possible, making your insides burn with a thrill of excitement. You took one on his flannels, —dark green with red stripes— and decided to wear it without anything besides your underwear. It was pretty big anyway, and covered just the necessary areas.

You slid your socks back on when all of the sudden you hear the faint sound of music from the floor beneath. Curious, you walk towards the noise, finding out Joel was in the kitchen, crouched down in front of the opened fridge. The CD player that you saw earlier on his room was now on the table, playing a melody that you recognized almost immediately.

"I like this song," you say, leaning against the wall. "That's Billy Idol, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he recalls, taking out a medium sized plastic box from the fridge. "Tommy made that mix. There's plenty of hits from past decades. I think you'll enjoy it."

The man finally turns around to face you and his face fails to hide his surprise. The way his prying eyes sweep your body in detail, taking his time particularly on your bare thighs, almost made you feel self-conscious if it weren't for that shadow of desire that crossed his eyes and the way his nostrils flared from a contained breath.

"How is he, by the way?" you ask, still on the subject. "Haven't seen him in a while."

"Who?" he clearly forgot what he had just said.

"Your brother," you call to mind, "how is he?"

Joel sets the box down on the table and drifts his gaze back to your face. "Fine, I guess. Last time we spoke he said he'd go to Dallas." He takes two glasses from the pantry and what it looks like a bottle of wine. "I-uh... There isn't any real food in here besides those strawberries and chocolates that this guy brought for Sarah. Should I order something?"

You shake your head and walk over to him, "This will do. Won't she get mad if we eat them, though?"

"Don't think so," he replies, pouring the red liquid into the glasses. "I'll blame you if she does."

"Oh, okay-" you cock an eyebrow at him and hold back a giggle. "Thought you didn't like wine."

"It's a fancy drink," he explains, "s'only for special occasions."

"Oh?" you take a sip from it, eyes boring into his. "And what's tonight's?"

Joel smiles conceitedly, jutting his chin out. "I've got you all to myself."

You snort, feeling the heat soar across your cheeks. He takes the snack box and with a sly gesture asks you to follow him into the living room, the melodic sound of the eighties tune turning to background noise as you do. The only lights on are the ones in the kitchen and the lamps beside the couch, shining a perfect light on his features.

"Come here," he calls, the leather squealing under his weight when he sat down. You set the glass down on the coffee table in front of the tv, going to sit next to him. "No, sweetheart," he grabs your waist and pulls you closer to him. "I meant here."

His legs part slightly, making room for you to sit on his lap. Your smile broadened toward a soft chuckle, settling yourself on his thigh. Joel immediately gets his hands on you, one on your lower back and the other merely resting on your upper leg.

"So, who's this mystery man that's been giving gifts to your darling daughter?" he scoffs in response, reaching for a chocolate from the box.

"Honestly? No fuckin' clue." You hum in surprise, drinking from your wine. "She never involves with them, thank god, and once they meet me they never come by again."

"I see,” you muse, “you're the overprotective type," you bite on a strawberry next.

"I wouldn't say it like that..." he sees the sarcastic glimpse on your expression and holds back laughter. "It's a dad reflex, I can't control it."

"Right, sounds convincing."

You stretch your arm behind the couch, setting your elbow and laying the side of your face on your palm. His face is very close to yours but all you do is simply stare at each other; Joel's big brown eyes glimmer with infatuation. “Can I ask you a question, sweetheart?" he asks lowly. "Somethin' more serious."

You wince in confusion, but still nod, "Sure."

He inhales sharply, taking a couple of seconds to actually say what he meant to. “Why are you here?" your frown deepens at his words. "I mean- Texas. I know you said you wanted to make up for the lost time with your old man, but... I feel like there's something else you're not saying."

It takes a minute for you to really sink in on his question. You nearly gulp down the alcohol before setting the glass down, avoiding his ardent gaze.

"Honestly?" you sigh, "There's so much to unpack that I don't even know where to start."

"Try." Although he didn't sound harsh, the effort he was asking you to put in wasn't something of your liking.

"Well, first of all," you meditate, clearing your throat, "the city didn't feel like home since my mom passed. It made me realize how much I missed here." He nods comprehensively, caressing the exposed skin of your thigh in a reassuring manner. "And then there's this- fear. Yeah, I guess it is fear... I've managed to accomplish so much in such short time that it actually fucking scares me to go any further and see that-" you stop, sighing and shaking your head. "That I've reached my limit."

For a moment, there's just silence floating between you, all that could be heard were the rain and a song by tears for fears.

"Darlin', look at me," he asks softly but you can't bring yourself to do it, embarrassed by your confession. "Please, let me see those pretty eyes of yours."

And it's practically impossible for you to deny him anything. Specially when he asks so nicely, when his hand grabs the side of your face so gently— you give in, just like that.

"You're afraid to succeed because you don't know what to do with yourself afterwards. Is that it?" You nod faintly. "Can I speak frankly?"

"I have a feeling you will anyway-"

"Yeah. A bit of tough love, but you need’a hear it." Joel strokes your cheek sweetly and you get shivers from the affection in the action. "Sweetheart, I know what you're going through. Shit feels like it's either moving too fast or not moving at all. And I know how scary that is. Trust me, there's still plenty of time for you."

You square your eyes to his, "Sure, bet you were frightened when you were twenty four."

"Terrified," he spoke truthfully. "Everyone I knew was getting married, moving out or working their asses off."

"And you?" he grunts, taking a strawberry from the box. "What were you doing?" Joel eats the fruit patiently, simply staring at you silently. "Come ooon, don't play hard to get."

"Gotta promise you won't laugh."

It's a tricky business for someone who makes fun of everything, and yet you simply reply: "I swear."

"Fine," he rasps out in fake annoyance. "I used to make my own guitars and- sell 'em sometimes. I'd also teach guitar lessons and horseback riding."

Your eyes widen in surprise and something flutters in your stomach. "Shit, that's actually pretty cool!"

He groans, rolling his eyes at the same time, "I told you not to make fun of me."

"No, no- I mean it." You shuffle on his lap, resting a hand on his chest. "And you sound passionate about it... Why'd you stop?"

The man shrugs his shoulders, tightening his grip on your waist. "It went well for a couple years but I eventually had to get something more solid. More so after Sarah was born." He takes a deep breath in, the smell of his own shampoo on your hair hitting his nostrils and catching him off-guard.

"You should teach me," you suggest with a smug grin. "I always wanted to learn."

"What, guitar or horseback riding?" he wonders, suddenly nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck.

"Guitar. I'm pretty good at riding, if you must know." You feel him chuckle against your body, his facial hair scratching your sensitive skin.

"We'll see 'bout that," his voice comes out husky as he starts kissing along your jawline.

Joel's common sense jumped out the window long ago, but the string of self control that kept him sane all this time couldn't bear the weight of you wriggling on top of him, semi-naked and with his scent all over you. Something primal took over him, a glimpse of possessiveness that he didn't believe himself capable of feeling towards you specifically. He wanted you to wear that flannel around town so people would look at you and know who it belonged to; whose bed you've been visiting. He wanted you to smell of his cologne so other men would know that you weren't free for them.

Your fingers run through his soft curls, messing his hair while he grabs the back of your thighs and manhandles you onto straddling his lap. He nips and licks over all your vulnerable areas, making your breathing start to labour. How could he possibly know this well the easiest ways to have you so desperate this quick? Leaning into his touch, yearning for him even with the smallest action? He wasn't aware of the answer himself, he just knew.

Joel instinctively throws his head back when you tug at his hair and seize the opportunity to duck down and lay a sweet kiss on his forehead. His hands coast up your thighs, splaying his fingers on your ass to squeeze the flesh. You hold back a giggle, kissing the curve of his nose before catching his soft, soft lips on yours.

He slides an arm around your waist, pressing his palm between your shoulder blades to keep you as close as possible. You feel your nipples harden when his tongue ran along your bottom lip— tauntingly slow, until you allowed him full access to your mouth, letting him taste the sweet mixture of wine and strawberries on your tongue. But his vehemence didn't make you any less eager, kissing him back with just as much passion and vigor, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip and mildly pulling at it with minor strength.

The action ignites a fire within him, seeing you on top, feeling your fingers roam around his cheekbones and along his jawline like you knew just how much fucking power you had over him... It was a new sensation, a new kind of desire he didn't recognize at first.

Joel's lips were swollen and his own excitement was starting to feel evident underneath you, which created a blunt ache between your legs. He usually appeared so big and mean, with those broad shoulders and permanent scowl on his face. Now, though... He seemed like he'd let you do just about anything with him, to him— it didn't really matter as long as you kept staring at him like that; through heavy lids, eyes sparkling with a profound, desperate need that spoke without words, saying 'only you get to see this side of me'.

You start grinding your hips against his, rubbing your clothed core above his growing boner in small, calculated circles as you shore yourself up with a hand to his chest. He merely admired you from his position, letting you have your way with him; all the while his gaze reflected patience, like he could take over the situation any second but enjoyed watching you lead.

"Joel," you call his name, leaning forward to kiss his chin, moving your lips all the way down his throat and feeling the nice scratch of his beard. Your hands grab the collar of his shirt as you come up to whisper in his ear: "Stay still."

Panting, he narrows his eyes in confusion, "What?" Though you don't give him enough time to figure out your words, getting back on your feet and parting his legs further with a light thump of your knee.

He observes your every move quietly, amused by your confidence and determination when you drop to your knees in front of him. Joel's cocky expression doesn't sway, not even when you drag your nails across his inner thigh, inching closer towards his very visible hard on. However, his body betrays him, selling a whole different story. His muscles tense, his jaw clenches and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

"Stop being such a fucking tease," he hissed, refusing to place his hands on you.

"Or what?" you drawl, coming to rest your palm on his crotch. A simple, feathery touch that made his pulse accelerate.

"You'll regret it," he warns grimly.

"S'that so?" you start to unbuckle his belt, way too slow for his liking, tugging down the zipper of his jeans. "I think I can handle it."

He smirked, his hand slithers to the back of your scalp and forces you to lock eyes with him. "Don't test your luck, sweetheart."

You pout mockingly, doing exactly the opposite of what he was saying while dragging down the fabric just enough to free his cock. Your new found courage falters for a second, finally seeing him in all his size and girth. He was, by all means, a big one, the amount of precome oozing on the tip telling you just how much he loved being teased, despite whatever words came out of his mouth. The mere sight of it sent a new heated wave of slick between your thighs.

Joel mimicked your expression scornfully, brushing his thumb across your cheekbone, "Too big for ya'?"

"None of that," you wrap your hand around the base, not really applying any pressure; though the sole warmth of your touch was enough to give him goosebumps, "we'll make it fit."

"That's my girl."

With a chuckle, you lower your head to kiss the inside of his thigh, the pads of your fingers softly grazing the veins on his length. His whole body shudders, leaking onto your hand and letting out a subtle gasp as you spread kisses all along his shaft. Your eyes peer into his soul when you gently place your lips to the slit, tasting the salty precome as he calls your name in what resembles a desperate plea. In a swift move, you finally take the tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and deciding to put an end to his suffering. He mutters a gruff 'fuck' when you attempt to take him farther, pumping what you couldn't yet fit and snaking your free hand under the hem of his denim shirt to caress the soft skin of his belly.

"Shit, darlin'-" you feel the heaviness of his palm simply resting on the back of your head, not pushing or forcing you in any way, but allowing you to adapt to his size. "The only way to get ya' to stop talking is with a mouth full of cock, ain't it?"

You hum in response and the sensation is completely enrapturing for Joel, his callused fingers tangle in your hair to ground him as he releases a shaky breath. It's a huge challenge to focus on anything else but him; your mind whirring with a familiar dizziness while you bob your head up and down his shaft, intoxicated by the taste of him, the smell of him and every sound that escapes his lips, making your clit throb with need and your arousal pool in your panties, uncomfortably sticking to your skin.

For Joel, it's overwhelming.

He's never really been the noisy type during sex but heck— you were doing it for him. He's a panting mess above you, his hips buck ever so slightly in tandem with your mouth, trying not to lose it entirely. Your spit drools down his dick and the way your dark, dilated pupils sparkle with lust as you hollow your cheeks around him pulls a groan deep from his throat.

"That's it, you can take it," he coaxes when your nose nudges his pubic bone, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat. "Good fuckin' girl, just like that..."

Enticed with the praise, you keep repeating the motion, sliding one hand to hold his hipbone for support and feeling his burning skin under your touch whilst the other plays with his balls to aid his pleasure. The obscene slick sounds mix in the air with his hoarse cursing, the rain and the faint music of kings of leon, sex on fire.

He looks so good from this angle, chest rising and falling with heavy, irregular breaths, head thrown back and both hands on you, keeping you angled for his cock. Drops of precum roll on your tongue as you keep changing the pace at which your head moves, tears welling in your eyes and jaw going slack. Shit, you're aching for him so bad that the only thing you can think of to relieve the need is squeeze your thighs together in order to create some friction. And it works, the action eliciting a moan from you that makes him fucking whimper your name.

"Bet your cunt's drippin' just from sucking my dick," he muffles a laugh that turns halfway into a sigh when you pay special attention to the ruddy, sensitive tip. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum-"

You can tell he is by the way his cock twitches in your mouth; his spine straightens at the heat gathering between his legs and he tries to pull you off against your will, uttering a warning that you chose to ignore. Joel's lips part in a throaty groan when he reaches his high, feeling the outline of your fingers digging harshly on his hip, your hand rubbing his length and your tongue lapping at his slit, taking in every single drop of his release until he's spent, right before pressing a soft kiss to it that makes him shiver. And hell— contrary to others, he tasted good; warm and thick, coating your senses.

His heart beats aggressively against his ribs and he loosens his grip on your hair, allowing you to get back on your feet while resting your hands on his waist. Although his eyes are barely open, he can quite literally feel your smile when you chastely kiss his lips. He chuckles breathlessly as you sit beside him, tugging himself back in his pants.

"We're not done yet," he says, grabbing the back of your knee and promptly engulfing your leg around his waist, maneuvering your body so that your back rests against the couch and he's crouched down, caged in the middle of your thighs. "I said I'd make it up to you and I will."

"Well, you've certainly got some stamina in you, old man," you poke fun at him, raising a hand to move those rebellious curls away from his eyes.

Joel smiles, caressing your cheek affectionately. "Always got somethin' to say, don't ya'?"

"Oh, Mr. Miller," you coo, enveloping your arms around his neck, "we both know just how much you love to hear me talk."

"Mhm," he leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth, "yes, I reckon you're right."

His big hand covers nearly half of your face as he holds you still, crashing your lips together. He kisses you deeply, vigorously, in a way that makes you wonder if you could possibly drown in a person's essence. His other palm slides between your bodies to start undoing the buttons of the flannel —his flannel— you were wearing. You can't help but whine when he draws back, watching you from above.

"Joel-" blood rushes through your ears and can feel your cheeks warm up as he takes in the sight of you, his fingers coasting down your throat and to the valley of your breasts, licking his lips when he sees your hardened nipples.

"You're fuckin' beautiful," he speaks freely, without holding back emotion, and it makes your heart skip a beat. "Such a sweet, sweet girl I can't get enough of."

"Then take a picture," you purr, "it'll last longer."

He stares at you through a measuring squint, a lighthearted smile forming on his face. "Since you insist." It takes a moment for you to realize what he means, until you finally recall that there's actually a camera inside your purse; one that he reaches for. "If I remember correctly... You said I could take as many as I like."

You lightly squeeze his waist with your thighs, feeling your whole body burn with anticipation. "I did say that..."

"Let's just pray your dad won't find these hanging around," he ponders, turning your face slightly to the side. "He'll have my head."

"And that would be terrible..."

He takes the Polaroid with one hand, the other coming to grope your breast as he backs off for a better angle, ultimately deciding to wrap his fingers loosely around your neck instead, purely holding you there. You glance at the lens, making your best "fuck me" eyes added to a cheeky smile, hearing him curse under his breath prior to snapping the picture.

"You've got the prettiest fucking tits I've even seen, sweetheart," he snarls, laying a palm flat over your lower abdomen while he waited for the photo.

"Has anyone ever told you you've got such a marvelous way with words?" he suppressed a laugh, safeguarding the picture on the back pocket of his jeans.

"Just a few women." Before you can even begin to act annoyed, he sets the camera aside and leans down to kiss your collarbones, the pad of his thumb kneading circles around your sensitive nipple. "Look at you, honey," he murmurs, "you're so easy to please... Or is it just because of me?"

You're panting, your back arching in response to his constant ministrations, every inch of your skin blushing under his attention. "I think it's-" you're cut off by the sudden need to swallow when he sucks a mark on the vulnerable skin between your breasts, "you."

His body vibrates with a laugh and you feel his hand palm your clothed sex, dragging his tongue over your delicate nipple, gently nibbling at it. You screw your eyes shut and let a single, fluttery moan slide past your lips when his thumb nudges your clit.

"So wet just from giving head?" Joel shakes his head in fake disapproval. "Who knew you were such a horny little thing?"

You are holding onto his bicep for dear life, fearing you might collapse into oblivion if you part from his body. His index glides across your slit over the drenched cotton fabric, making you squirm beneath him.

"You- you tasted good," you babble, mind all over the place.

"Yeah?" his chest swells with pride, "you should taste yourself, angel," his mouth travels across your abdomen, "sweetest thing I've ever had."

It's pointless trying to conjure a response, you're simply too far gone by now. He hooks your legs over his shoulders and buries his head between your thighs, flattening his tongue against the bundle of nerves. You whimper, running your fingers through his locks and bucking your hips to meet his face.

"Please," you blurt out, "Joel, please..."

"What, sweetheart?" he asks, moving the underwear aside to directly touch your clit, fondling it as he watched your slick coat his fingers. "What do you want?" But you can't conceive an answer, all that could come out of your mouth were those pathetic, desperate moans. "Use your words."

With his free hand he plays with your nipple, grabbing your breast with his entire hand. "I want you."

He tauntingly moves his fingers around your seam, refusing to go any further. "Say it again."

"I want you, Joel."

Cocky bastard.

He licks his fingers clean and starts getting off the couch, leaving you with a confused, dumbfounded expression that nearly makes him crack up.

"You didn't really believe I'd be fucking you on the couch, did ya'?" he teases, but all you can muster up is a barely audible 'oh'. "Come on, let's take this to my room. And don't forget to bring that camera of yours."

Mind still dazing, you obey his instructions, following him silently upstairs as he undoes the buttons of his shirt. For a second, he glances back at you, gifting a soft, reassuring grin before extending his arm to grab your fingers, holding your hand in a pure, intimate touch.

And just for that moment, you forget that he's actually your dad's oldest friend, that he's Sarah's father or any other thought of the sort. He's just Joel. Joel Miller, the only man that has managed to make you feel butterflies in the pit of your stomach, or that made you blush with merely a few compliments.

"Ask me to kiss you," he urges, taking the camera from your hands and carefully placing it on his bedside table, his eyesight fixed on you.

"Kiss me," you don't ask, you downright beg.

He does, though it's not like the previous times. He's tender, almost languid about it. His hands are on your bare hips while yours cup his cheeks; Joel's fingers reach to remove the flannel from your shoulders and moves his lips to the newly exposed skin, murmuring constant admirations. You feel your lungs clench and a tingly sensation on your lower belly.

"I'll take care of you, darlin'." You let the shirt slide down your arms and fall to the floor. "Gonna show you what you've been missin' out on by fooling around with those stupid boys." His words go straight to your core as he takes a step back to sit on the edge of his bed. "Take them off," he gestures to the last piece of clothing on your body.

You compel to his wish, stripping under his prying eyes while he lazily gets rid of his boots. His lips twitch in a smile when he sees the glistening mess he's made of you, promptly dragging you on top of him. Your hands lay flat on his exposed chest shortly before he switches positions, readjusting you on the middle of the bed.

"Joel, please just-" you whine when he keeps playing with your entrance, stretching you with his fingers. Your skin scorches with desire, knees weak from the growing heat on your lower body.

"Stop nagging, sweetheart," he grits through his own lust, his gaze impossibly dark. "I wouldn't want to hurt you."

"Joel, I'm too worked up, I-" you gasp when he curls his fingers inside you, hitting that particular spot that made your toes curl. "Fuck..."

"Come on, baby." He ducks down to kiss the skin behind your ear and his beard tickles nicely. "It's just the two of us now, feel free to be as loud as you need to."

His pants are undone and hanging loosely on his hips, the image being so blatantly erotic that only managed to get you more aroused as you fumble to get rid of his shirt. He chuckles at your eagerness, shrugging it out of the way and haphazardly kicking off his jeans and underwear altogether, discarding them on the floor with the rest of the clothes.

You take a second to revel on his naked figure, his tanned skin, broad shoulders and sturdy chest, the marked collarbones and every noticeable mole. His hair is messy from your fingers, a thin layer of sweat sticks some curls to his temples as his wild, hungry eyes bask in the view of your sopping pussy when he parts your shaky legs further. But the moment of appreciation is brief, both of you being edged and spurred on.

He maneuvers a hand to your lower back and aligns your hips with his, watching the way your hole drips for him, wetting his bedsheets. You're a panting mess beneath him, lightly scratching his shoulder-blades and biting on your bottom lip, looking up at him doe-eyed and all splayed out for him to take. Joel wants to tell you just how badly he's longed for this— how he's been yearning to have you so achingly bad. But right now, feelings overrun his thoughts, especially after hearing his name spilling from your lips, begging for him to take you.

"Relax, darlin'." Joel teases your slit with the head of his cock, rubbing it along your sex and coating it with your slick. Your head tilts backwards, dipping on his pillows, small whines keep spilling from your mouth. "I won't go easy on you."

"Great, cause I don't want you to-" your slurred words get muffled by the sudden feeling of intrusion as he finally buries himself in your cunt, letting out a filthy, guttural groan.

You close your eyes, feeling lightheaded and staggered from the way he was filling you up so nicely, the stretch being a tad painful at first, but the kind of pain that could only ever feel good. Then your whole body quivers from head to toe.

"That's it, you can take it," he mutters, peppering kisses to your chin and collarbones as he bottoms out. "Fuck, you feel divine-" The tight, warm grip you welcome him with resembles nothing he's ever had before. This is new, this is you.

You bear down on his cock, enveloping your legs around his waist and lifting your hips to encourage him. He holds you down with a firm grip around your neck, starting to set a pace with his hips as he draws out and then back in slowly, roughly, making your back arch. Your erect nipples brush against his strong chest and create a delightful friction that has you moaning louder than you could've expected. You're amazed by the way he thrusts into you, somehow mindful to hit every right spot inside you —needless to say that it was something that others could hardly manage before—, his pubic hair tickles the skin below your belly button, sending shivers down your spine that prompt you to drag your nails down his back.

"Look," he indicates, despite your inability to even think straight. "Look," he repeats harshly, using the hand that was on your hips to tilt your head downwards, forcing you to stare at where your bodies connected. It was obscene, the wet noises of your pussy and skin clapping against skin sounding purely pornographic. "Look at the mess you're making."

"Joel, I-" you can't form sentences properly, all your attention being focused on how good he's making you feel. "I'm so close, for god's sake..."

"Lemme help with that," he speaks breathlessly, pining your leg over the crook of his elbow to make his thrusts deeper, more precise. You cry out in bliss, feeling the heat expanding from your stomach to your legs. "Yeah, you're close, I can fuckin' feel it- fuck..."

Your walls flutter around him, squeezing his dick just right. He knows he's in too deep when you call out his name like it's the only word you can remember, when he wallows in the glorious view of your pretty face contorted in pleasure. He looses the grip on your neck and strokes your lower lip with his thumb, prodding you to keep eye contact as your orgasm washes over you. It's electrifying, a feverish kind of sensation that gratifies every nerve on your body.

He rests his forehead on your shoulder, overcame by the intense feeling of euphoria that your body was providing. You realize in that moment that the reason why Joel could fill that void so easily was because he kept prioritizing you above him. Your pleasure was his, too.

"Jesus Christ, Joel-" you mewl when he abruptly pulls out, “… Worth the wait.”

He laughs shakily, kissing your lips shortly. "Turn around, sweetheart. I want to fuck you from behind."

With a buzzing dizziness, you follow his instruction. God, right now you'd do just about anything if he asked you to. You notice movement from his part and patiently wait with your butt up in the air for him to stuff you again; instead, you hear the familiar clicking sound of the Polaroid camera.

"You fucker," you chuckle, "did you just take a picture of my ass?"

"Couldn't help myself," he groans, caressing the soft flesh before lightly slapping it. "You look too damn gorgeous." The hit on your skin burns nicely and you can't hold back the gasp that escapes your lips.

"Shit- do that again..."

You can practically hear his smile when he talks, "You into that?" he repeats the action with a little more force and the pain sends a shock of pure pleasure between your legs, your own fluids dripping down your thighs. "F'course you are, I should've guessed with that attitude of yours."

He plays with your swollen pussy, enjoying your tiny moans and the way your legs tremble as you fist the sheets underneath you, burying your face on his pillow when he spanks you again— this time so hard that it probably left a mark. But before the sting washes away he takes the opportunity to enter you in one swift move, holding your hips steady and trailing his fingers along your spine.

"That's my sweet girl," he praises a midst, starting to grind his cock inside you. "Taking me like you were made for it."

This is way more intense, the angle allowing him to hit deeper, harsher. His gruff moans become more frequent as he speeds up his pace, letting you know just how good you were making him feel. The sensation was purely fantastic, melting every thought away and just leaving Joel Miller to fill you in every sense of the word. His hands are never still, roaming your responsive areas, caressing the most sensitive and always taking care of your aching clit.

You might cry from the overwhelming ecstasy— the way his tip constantly hits the depths of your cunt with each relentless thrust has you seeing stars. Joel gets a thrill from the way you can't seem to get enough of him either, throwing your hips back to meet his unwavering pace, clawing at the pillows and moaning helplessly, pushing him close to his climax.

"Joel, it's too much..." you mumble. "Please, I can't-"

He hunches over you, kissing your nape to ease the overpowering sensations, "Yes, you can. You're a big girl, you can take it." And then your vision goes blurry, all you're able to hear being his disjointed, lewd moans; all you can feel is his hard, hot body flushed to yours, his cock twitching inside you and the wetness of your own body. "That's it, give me another one, baby- fuuuck..."

The buildup is so strong you nearly collapse, feeling yourself tremble as he chases his orgasm, fucking you through yours. His fingers reach your bundle of nerves and apply barely any pressure, which has you coming undone in seconds, absolutely soaking his dick and the sheets beneath you, chanting his name like a prayer. A string of curses falls from his lips as he pulls out and quickly manhandles your fucked out self to lay on your back. He exhales sharply through his nose, spilling his load all over your stomach without even touching himself.

You both stay there for a while, catching your breath and looking intently at each other’s eyes before he rolls over, going limp beside you. You stare blankly at de ceiling, suddenly feeling aggressively aware of your sticky skin covered in sweat and cum, the numbness on your lower body that will surely feel sore in the morning and all the marks he's left dispersed on you. You feel satisfied, fulfilled even. Joy bubbles up your chest and comes out in form of a giggle, one you're unable to hold back.

"What?" he asks, turning his face towards you with a half-smile.

"I don't know, I just..." you shake your head, still laughing. "I don't know."

He chortles in disbelief, holding out a hand to take some tissues from the bedside drawer and going to swipe his mess off your tummy and inner thighs. "Shit, I think I might’ve just fucked the sense out of ya'."

Joel sets himself between your parted legs, laying the weight of his upper body on top of you, resting his chin on your chest, eyes boring into yours. He looks so young like this, despite the greying hair and the small wrinkles, his beautiful brown orbs sparkle ever so brightly under your attentive gaze.

"What will your dad say when he returns and finds out his only daughter has completely lost her mind?" he jokes, cradling you in his big arms.

"Come on," you roll your eyes playfully, "we both know that if I had been in my right mind since the beginning, I probably wouldn't be in your bed right now." He doesn't reply, but his smile doesn't fade either. Joel nuzzles his face on the crook of your neck, kissing your pulse zone briefly before closing his eyes. You run your fingers through his hair, softly massaging his scalp in utter silence.

The wind was howling outside, rustling the tree branches, but at least it wasn't raining anymore. You can feel Joel's heart beating against your ribs, his deep breaths fanning across your shoulder and his unique scent all around you, on you. In spite of the cold air, your naked bodies are warm enough to stay comfortably in this position, at least for a while— however, there's something deep inside you that doesn't want this moment to end.

"Hey," you call him lowly and he hums in response, "can we order pizza?"

He nods faintly, "Anything you want, honey."

Anything.

If only.

"I'll call," you say. "Any specific requests?"

"As long as there isn't any pineapple on it, we're fine." You glance down at him, almost appalled.

"You don't like pineapple on pizza?"

"No. That's disgusting, come on."

"Oh, grow up!" he opens his mouth to retort, but when he sees your dismayed expression he can merely bark a laugh that you get infected with.

"Order whatever you want," he whispers in your ear. "But you'll have to promise something."

"What's that?" you raise an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Say you'll stay," he murmurs, slightly hesitant. "Stay here and spend the night with me."

The proposal takes you by surprise, so much that you actually stopped breathing. You ponder wether if you could or you should; because, at the end, what would a night really mean? What could possibly change?

Nothing, right?

Besides, no one had to know.

(...)

A few moments later you're downstairs looking for your phone, wearing nothing other than his green flannel. Joel decided to take a shower while you ordered the food and you chose to walk around the house, paying attention to the little details you hadn't quite noticed before.

Now that you see it, there are plenty of horse images here and there. Very Texan of Joel, you can't deny. Lots of pictures of Sarah growing up, some of him and Tommy and a good deal with your dad. None of his ex-wife. In fact, there's no proof that she even existed. You decide not too think too hard about it, since it was none of your business after all.

You pour yourself a glass of water and wander your eyes across the amount of pills he usually takes. Anxiety pills, painkillers, vitamins. What could possibly be troubling this middle-aged man so bad? Again, you decide to turn a blind eye and simply pick up the phone, expecting a message from your dad to tell you he arrived in Boston well and safe. Instead, you find that your direct messages in social media have new requests. Curious, you open them to see what the fuzz was about.

Hi!

This is Will

I don't know if Sarah mentioned me...

I'm her English teacher, haha

I hope you don't find this creepy, your profile popped up in my 'people you may know' section and since Sarah said she wanted to introduce us, I thought I might just say hi 😉

Honestly, with everything that went down you had nearly forgotten about Sarah's 'you should hang out with people your age' speech. And now that you were stalking his profile, he appeared to be maybe a couple years older than you— handsome in a boyish, intelectual way, if that made sense. Apparently, he studied in New York too, and lived in Queens.

Hi!

Yeah, I reckon she did

What's up, Queens? :)

You don't really expect a reply, not giving much thought to anything in the moment. Though, an involuntary smile twitches your lips when there's a quick message that reads "Not much, Brooklyn" and the writing bubble underneath.

After all, having a friend in Austin wouldn't hurt.

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