#Stan pines x you
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darlingdaisyfarm · 3 days ago
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okay okay okay, but have you ever thought about Stan Pines going all out with a bat and those brass knuckles, not for Dipper and Mabel this time, but for you?
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so imagine this
you’re fighting for your life, seriously, you’re down on the floor, struggling and kicking and trying to pry this zombie’s gross, dead grip off your ankle. it’s got this clammy, awful hand wrapped around you, squeezing like it’s never letting go. you’re panicking, heart pounding, kicking out as hard as you can, but it just keeps pulling you closer, and it’s got this. . . stink, this mix of dirt and decay and something that’s just so wrong, it’s like it’s crawling up your nose and seeping into your brain
and then you barely have time to process it when — wham! 
Stanley’s fist connects with the zombie’s wrist, and it’s like a scene straight out of a horror movie, except he’s not playing around. he’s just done with this thing trying to mess with what’s his.  
that zombie hand flying—literally, just detaches like it was nothing more than a piece of old meat. meanwhile Stan just stands there, fists still clenched, breathing heavy, hair a mess, a few abrasions here and there, looking at you, checking if his love is okay 
you’re gasping, trying to scramble to your feet, but Stan’s already there, arm steadying you before he’s pulling you close. he’s got that look—wild, fierce, because there’s not a damn thing in the world that’s gonna stand between him and keeping you safe 
“ya alright?” he rasps with that rough voice of him but somehow still tender when he addresses to you. but then he’s all business, not waiting for your answer. “get behind me. now.” it’s not even a suggestion, it’s an order, one you’re almost too shaken to process before you feel his hand on your shoulder, guiding you behind him, making himself this solid wall between you and whatever disgusting horror’s lurking in the shadows.
“ain't nobody gonna touch what’s mine! you fucking get me?!”
and that’s when Stanley raises the bat, no hesitation, no fear, just this quiet fury which shows through his every movement. when the next zombie stumbles forward, moaning and reaching for flesh, Stan swings with a force that makes your heart skip a beat. another crack! the bat slams into its jaw, splintering bone and sending the creature staggering back like it just got hit by a freight train.
“c’mon, ya sack of rotten shit! ya want somethin?” he taunts, daring them to come closer. another one lunges, and he doesn’t even blink, twisting the bat in his hands before landing a brutal swing right to its chest, the wood splintering against decaying ribs.
and then, when the bat’s seen its last swing, he tosses it aside with a grunt, rolling his shoulders before pulling out brass knuckles, slipping them over his fingers with this terrifying, steady calm
he glances over his shoulder. “stay back, ya hear me?” and he sounds so damn protective, like he’d burn the world down before he’d let these things so much as look your way again.
he’s back to business, fists swinging with deadly precision, brass knuckles glinting as he hammers away at the zombies, one after another. every punch lands with a sickening thud and Stan is not stopping until every last one of these things is down.
because Stan Pines could take on the whole world if he had to, if it meant keeping you safe.
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viceroywrites · 1 day ago
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liquor on your lips (2/2)
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you met stan pines on your first day working at the dead end motel.
in just a week, you were addicted to him.
mullet stan x gn!reader
part one here
inspired by you can be the boss by lana del rey
cw: smut ahead, praise, dirty talking, creampie
taglist: @autistic-rainbow
I saved it, I waited, I called it.
Your shift at the bar was closing up, leaning over to wipe down the counter and grabbing the tip jar to see how you did for the day.
Thumbing through the dollar bills, you tap them on the table to straighten them out before opening your bag to toss them inside before pausing at the sight of the cigarette that you had tossed inside the evening prior.
‘Give it a call when you get off tomorrow and let me know.’
Should you do it?
You should be happy, elated even that you have this opportunity to spend more time with the man that had charmed you in a matter of days.
Your interactions with Stan thus far had been fairly casual in nature. 
Sure, there was a lot of banter and playful flirting that happened every night but going on what essentially was a date seemed like a huge step.
A step you were uncertain about taking given the fact that at any given moment, Stan could up and leave.
You toss the wad of cash into your bag, deciding that the issue could wait at least until you get home and take a nice long shower to worry about.
Back at the motel, Stan twirls the extension cord of the phone mindlessly while he lies in bed. His eyes flicker to the phone every so often as he scratches his stomach, still in his white undershirt and boxers.
What the hell was he thinking offering his number to you?
Was he that lonely?
Stan sits up, deciding he needed a smoke break to clear his head and at least get out of limbo. He slips on his jeans from the night prior and grabs the room key and his pack of cigarettes, stepping out. 
Leaning against the wall, one foot propped up, he lights the cigarette that dangles from his lips, feeling the harsh smoke fill his lungs before exhaling it out. Reaching up to brush his long strands of hair out of his eyes, Stan winces as his knuckles graze against the cut that is a reminder of last night’s events.
“Shit…” He hisses under his breath, cigarette resting between his fingers as the dull ache creeps up. Stan clenches his jaw, trying to ignore the pain while he takes another drag from his cigarette. Glancing at the window outside his room, he sees his reflection.
The heavy, dark circles under his eyes show his fatigue.
The five o'clock shadow across his chin, not able to afford a proper razor in ages.
The chocolate brown hair atop his head grown out into a mullet, much to his chagrin.
His eyes, almost blood-shot, looked drained of hope.
The definition of exhaustion stared back at him. 
Man, he was tired of running.
That first day when you had offered to pay for his room, the first night in ages that he was able to lay his head on a pillow and get some rest, you gave him something he had been longing for in ages.
Stability.
A helping hand.
Suddenly the sound of the phone ringing cuts through his thoughts. Stan scrambles to unlock the door, practically leaping onto the mattress as his hand removes the phone from its receiver.
“Hello?” He says, slightly out of breath as his heart is pounding through his chest. 
God, what was he doing, waiting around for a call like some lovesick teen?
“Did you just get done running a marathon or somethin? You should be resting…” You ask with a raised eyebrow, toweling off the wet strands of your hair as the phone rests in between the crook of your neck and your shoulders.
“Didn’t realize I was signing up for a lecture when I picked up the phone, toots.” Stan grumbled, resting a hand over his heart in a feeble attempt to slow down its rapid pace.
“Well, I guess I’ll just hang up then…” You say playfully, giggling as Stan’s gruff voice says with a sudden urgency, “Wait, wait!”
“Surprised you actually gave me a call…” Stan mutters to which you blink in surprise, “Why are you surprised?”
“I dunno, figured you’d rather spend your day off doing something else other than getting dinner or a drink with a drifter.” Stan admits with a shrug to his shoulders.
“You know I never said that I was taking up your offer…” You tease, grinning once again as you have him stammering over his words. 
For someone who gives off a rough demeanor, it’s amusing to see him turn into a pile of mush.
“Stan, I’m just pulling your leg…” You chuckle, “ Did you have anywhere in particular in mind?”
Stan pauses for a few beats, and you stare at the phone wondering if you got caught off.
“Can you still hear me?” 
“I heard ya.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“... You’re actually serious?”
“Of course, I’m serious, Stanley.” 
God, the way you said his name sounded like a choir of angels to him, ready to take him to heaven.
“Honestly, I didn’t think I’d get this far, toots.” Stan admitted, “Didn’t think someone like you would even dare look my way, let alone go on a date with me.”
A date.
He confirmed that it was a date.
“So this is a date?” You say with a sly grin, trying to ignore how your heart beat is practically pounding in your ears.
Stan in response turns beet red, clutching the phone tighter, “Well, only if you want it to be, sweetheart.”
“It’s a date then. Pick me up at my place at 7. There’s a diner near my apartment that has the best shakes. You got a pen to write down my address?” You ask hurriedly before he could take it back. You snicker as you hear clamoring on the other end of the receiver, hearing Stan curse under his breath for the damn pen. 
“Ready.” He finally says, having found a pen and grabbed a crumpled up receipt out of the trash bin.
You share your address with him and after hanging up, Stan flops back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling in awe.
He hadn’t been on a date since that hippie stole Carla McCorckle from him.
“Alright, Stanley, you can do this. Sure, you may be a little rusty but you got that natural Pines charm.” He says, trying to be his own personal hype man as he gets up from the bed.
Heading to the bathroom, he looks in the mirror and blinks, “Yeesh. Should probably try to clean up a little bit…” Stan mutters, scratching the stubble on his chin.
He has a white corvette like I want it
A fire in his eyes, know, I saw it
He's bleeding from his brain and his wallet.
You glanced over your shoulder, almost anxiously staring at the clock as you plead for the minutes to go faster.
It’s 6:58 PM.
You turn your attention back onto the full-length mirror in your room, running your hands over the fabric of your outfit. You decided to dress up a little more than your usual attire that you would wear while working at the motel though you secretly hoped Stan didn’t randomly have a suit in his trunk that he was going to whip out for the occasion.
Though you did wonder what he could be wearing, cheeks reddening at the possibilities.
A knock on your apartment door startled you, breaking you out of your thoughts. Your eyebrow raises as you had told Stan to press the buzzer so you could let him in but when you go to look through the peephole, you see him standing outside your door and quickly undo the chain lock and open the door.
Stan stands before you, trading his usual attire for a maroon button-up that has two loose buttons to reveal a gold medallion that rested on his dark, wispy chest hairs and a pair of black slacks. In right hand, he holds a clumsy mess of various flowers wrapped in… is that a newspaper?
“You clean up pretty good, Pines…” You say with a sweet smile. Truthfully, this outfit was even better than what your thoughts could have conjured up. Your eyes flick towards the flowers, “Are these for me? You didn’t have to..” 
Stan places the flowers in your arms, “Well, I couldn’t show up empty-handed. What kinda guy do you take me for?” He says before glancing over his shoulder, “Hey, you don’t think your neighbor two doors down reads the paper regularly, do ya?”
You laugh, putting two and two together, “I don’t think so, let me put these in some water and we can head out. You can come in, make yourself comfortable.” You gesture, letting Stan step through the threshold before closing the door behind the two of you.
“You know you usually invite someone in after the date, doll.” Stan comments playfully, taking a seat on your cozy sofa as he watches your figure disappear into the kitchen to grab a vase. His eyes roam around the apartment, admiring the little touches you put to the place that made it feel like home. 
“What can I say? I like to cut right to the chase.” You tease, walking back into the living room with the assortment of flowers in a vase. You lean forward to place the vase on the coffee table in front of him and Stan finds his gaze drifting to your behind before quickly averting it as you stand up right, looking over at him, “You ready?”
Stan clears his throat, standing up from his seat, his cheeks tinted slightly pink, “Yup, you know how to get to the place?”
“Yup!” You say, grabbing your bag from the counter before raising an eyebrow.
“Why are your cheeks red? Is it hot in here?”
“Alright, let’s move it!” Stan says hurriedly, placing a warm calloused hand on the small of your back to usher you out the door.
It was your turn for your cheeks to turn red.
The liquor on your lips.
The liquor on your lips.
The liquor on your lips makes you dangerous.
“After being chased around a neighborhood by a husband who thought I was sleeping with his wife for hours, I stopped doing door to door sales. I mostly stuck to infomercials, you know the ones that cycle every few hours?” Stan explained, waving around the cheese fry in his hand.
You listen to his story with amusement, resting your chin on your hands as you take a sip of your milkshake, “Yeah, I’m familiar… surprised I haven’t seen you on my TV ever.”
“Well, when I shot them, I had a full mustache.” Stan admitted, holding the fry over his upper lip to mimic the facial hair.
Your laughter ran through Stan’s ears at the visual, leaning forward to pluck the fry from his finger and steal it from his grasp, taking a bite into it, “Now that’s something I would have paid to see.”
“Trust me, not worth the price, sweetheart.” Stan says with a relaxed grin, his arms spreading across the vinyl booth as he leans back.
His brown eyes take in your gorgeous features before catching the stray bit of cheese that was in the corner of your mouth. He can’t help himself, reaching over to run a thumb over it and pulling back to lick the cheese off his thumb.
You stare back at him flustered, your lips parted. Stan registers what he just did, blinking back at you before rubbing the back of his neck abashedly, “Sorry, had a little something on your lip.”
“No.. don’t apologize. I… liked it.” You admit with a cheeky grin, reaching for one of Stan’s hands that rests on the table. Your thumb runs over his knuckles that are still bandaged from the previous day, your touch delicate as you do so. 
“I gotta ask, sweetheart, what makes you like a guy like me?” Stan asks, entranced by your touch as he can’t help but spread his fingers out to intertwine your fingers with his larger ones.
“What do you mean by that?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
“C’mon toots, I know first impressions matter and what you saw the first day you met me was a guy in a ratty old hoodie with no money to his name, barely able to afford one night at a motel.” Stan chuckled with a bitter edge of his voice.
“Well, that’s not what I saw.” You say almost defensively, squeezing Stan’s hand firmly, “I saw a guy who was down on his luck… who just needed a warm place to stay for the night. What you showed me is you’re funny, quick-witted, a con man.. But a business savvy one.”
“Ouch, on the conman…”
“Am I wrong?”
“No… but you gotta admit that I got good ideas.”
“You do… you just need the right audience for them.” You chuckle, “Now, no more of this self-deprecating talk, let’s go dancing, there’s a bar a few blocks down that does disco nights on Fridays.”
“You wanna keep this date going, toots?” Stan says a bit nervously, knowing he was only able to scrounge up enough money to cover the bill.
“I got the drinks, Stan. Don’t worry.” You say, squeezing his hand again in reassurance, “Plus I can’t let you waste an outfit like this on just a diner.”
I knew it was wrong, I’m beyond it.
I tried to be strong but I lost it.
To say Stan swept you off your feet was an understatement.
You weren’t expecting him to be practically dragging you onto the dance floor despite your protests of having two left feet after a few drinks in your system, his feet moving effortlessly as he guides you with his hands.
Stan watches with glee as his arm raises to spin you, watching how the disco lights illuminate your face. He spins you into his frame before dipping you low, your noses brushing at the proximity.
You stare up at him, a hand resting on his bicep. Your breaths mingle, inches away from each other’s lips. Time stands still as Stan can’t help but admit huskily, “God, you’re gorgeous.”
Something in you snapped and you broke the distance, hands reaching up to cup Stan’s cheeks and pull him into a sudden kiss. His eyes widened in surprise, almost dropping you in alarm but melting into the kiss as he returned the passionate liplock.
Without breaking the kiss, Stan pulls you up, large hands drifting down to grip your hips. You feel your stomach doing somersaults at the sensation of his fingertips digging further into your flesh almost possessively. 
Like you would disappear between his fingertips if he didn’t hold on tight.
Pulling back reluctantly for air, your chest moves up and down as you pant softly. Your eyes twinkle underneath the colorful hues of the disco ball, gazing up at Stan with want.
“Shit, Pines… didn’t think you were that smooth.” You say breathlessly with a cheeky grin.
“Look who’s talking… didn’t think ya had it in you to pull the first move.” Stan teases, “Not that I’m complainin’ about being proven wrong.”
Your hands rest on Stan’s chest, “Well, just cause I made the first move doesn’t mean you can’t make one yourself.”
“Is that a challenge, sweetheart?”
“Not a challenge, more like a wish.”
“Well, I can definitely make that wish come true.” Stan chuckles, leaning for another heated kiss. Stan’s lips search for yours almost hungrily, his tongue snaking out to run over your bottom lip almost pleading for entry. You allow it, a soft whine ripping from your throat as you taste the whiskey on his tongue. 
Those sweet noises that he’s able to pull from you cause Stan to grunt, pulling you further into him. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers running through his brown locks before playfully tugging at the ends of his mullet. He groans against your lips, loving the sensation more than he would care to admit.
Maybe having a mullet wasn’t as bad as he thought it was. 
Stan pulls back, smirking as he stares down at you pouting back at him, wondering why he stopped. His response is tilting his head to pepper kisses along your jawline and down your neck. You can’t help but giggle when his stubble tickles your skin, arching your neck in response, “Whoa there, tiger… we’re still in public, ya know?”
“Sorry, toots, can’t help myself…” Stan mutters against your ear, pulling you in by your waist so you’re both chest to chest, “You just taste so sweet… ”
Shit, your knees felt weak after hearing his deep voice rasp that against your ear.
You really tried to resist as much as you could.
But something about Stan Pines had your resolve crumbling before your eyes.
Fuck it.
“Stanley…” You coo in a sticky, saccharine tone that causes his arm hairs… and something else to stand up. Your fingers massage the nape of his neck, pressing your lips against his ear, “I would love to give you a taste… maybe somewhere more private.”
You let out a squeal in surprise as Stan practically drags you toward the exit, making a beeline back to his car. He looks back at you, his eyes darkened with lust, “Oh, I plan on getting more than a taste, doll.”
You taste like the 4th of July.
Malt liquor on your breath, my, my.
The sound of jingling keys and smacking lips against skin echoed through the hallway outside of your apartment. 
“Stan… cut it out for just a sec, I’m trying to get the door open..” You whine breathlessly, biting your lower lip as Stan’s teeth graze against the sensitive spot on your neck. You can feel his hardened bulge against your backside, his grip on your hips possessive.
“Alright, I’ll let up on ya.” Stan chuckles at your whine, pulling away reluctantly. He watches your fingers still fumble with the keys in amusement despite him halting his relentless flurry of kisses and love bites.
The moment the door opens, Stan’s arm wraps around your frame and hoists you over his broad shoulder, causing you to burst in a fit of laughter. Stan snickers when he closes the door behind him, feeling you playfully flail and stomp your fists on his back with the exaggerated plea to release you. He finds his way to your bedroom, nudging the loose door with his foot to get through the threshold before tossing you on the bed gently.
You have a beat to process your back hitting the soft material of your mattress before feeling the bed dip down and your lips being ensnared into another heated kiss. 
Your fingers find themselves gripping the back of Stan’s button-up, wrinkling the fabric underneath as you cling onto him. His lips slowly descend down your jawline, to your neck before his hands hover over the fabric of your top. He pulls back briefly, “Can I, sweetheart?” He asks breathlessly.
You nod eagerly and his hands slowly pull off the top to reveal more of your bare skin. “Jesus, are you sure you’re not an angel? Look at ya..” Stan says, his touch over your exposed flesh sending shivers down your spine.
“Well, don’t just look… you can touch more.” You say with a desperate edge to your voice. Stan chuckles darkly at your impatience, deciding to give into your demands. His tongue glides over your collarbone, deciding downward before capturing a sensitive peak in between his lips, suckling firmly. The delicious sounds you make go straight to his groin, spurring him on to tease, pinch and suck on your hardened nipples.
He needed to hear how good he was making you feel.
“Stan… more, please.” You whimper out, your legs wrapped around him.
“Tell me how much you need this, angel.” Stan grins against your flesh.
“Fuck, I need you, Stan. Please, you make me feel so good, I need your tongue, your fingers, your cock, anything!” You moan out after a particular torturous squeeze of nipples.
Your praise, your pleas caused any self-restraint Stan was holding onto to fall apart, his hands tugging down on your bottoms. Your hips snap up to allow him to shove the fabric down your ankles before he pretty much rips off his own stuffy shirt, revealing to you his chest hair, broad shoulders and biceps and round stomach. 
Stan practically melts as your hands glide over his chest and down his stomach. His abdomen tensing when your nails make their way down his happy trail to start unbuttoning his tight pants.
After you undo the top button and zipper, Stan’s hands join yours, impatiently tugging off the fabric. His rock hard shaft springs out from its confines, tip red and leaking with pre-cum.
Just as your hand is about to reach down to give it some attention, Stan catches your wrist, shaking his head. “Another time, sweetheart… I need ya now.” 
Your legs spread as Stan adjusts himself between them, his fingers gripping the meat of your thighs. You can’t help but feel a bit self-conscious when the man above you is staring down at your lower parts with such intensity and attempt to squeeze your legs shut. Unfortunately, Stan’s hold on your thighs is firm, holding them apart with a click of his tongue, “None of that, toots. Don’t hide such a gorgeous sight from me.”
Toes curl against the sheets and nails dig into Stan’s shoulder blades as he decides to torture you just a little bit more, brushing the tip of his shaft against your opening and teasing it with shallow movements. After getting his fill of your desperate whimpers, he finally shows you some mercy, groaning when he fully sheaths his cock inside you.
“Jesus, angel… you even feel like heaven..” Stan groans, pumping his hips slowly as he finds his rhythm, “You’re gonna be the death of me, doll… I swear.” He holds onto your hips for dear life, his fingertips practically imprinted into your flesh. Your walls clamp around him tightly, hissing through his teeth as his hips pull back and forth.
You relish in the delicious stretch as Stan’s cock digs deeper with every thrust into your walls, eyes rolling back and fluttering shut when his shaft bottoms out inside your walls. Stan shudders, feeling every inch of his aching cock being squeezed down by your warm walls.
After giving you a second to adjust to his full length, he finally lets go, his hips letting loose. His pace is quick yet powerful, his thick tip kissing that sweet spot that has your thighs trembling over and over again. Stan gazes down at you in awe, relishing every single moan and cry that escapes your throat. He lets out a deep chuckle, hearing you babble for more, “Oh, you need more? Such a greedy little thing.”
Stan gladly indulges in your pleas, his pace now brutal as he hammers his cock at an almost erratic pace. The sound of your hips lewdly smacking together echoing through the room, your cries silenced by Stan’s searing kiss, swallowing them up greedily. He presses all his weight atop of you, pinning your legs back at an angle that allows his cock to drive deeper inside of you.
You feel a warmth boiling in the pit of your stomach, your legs wrapping around Stan’s frame as your nails dig red welts into his back. “S-Stan… I…” You gasp in between breaths of your heated kisses, causing Stan to pause to stare down at you. “Ya close, sweets?” You nod in response, so cock-drunk that you can’t form a coherent sentence.
Focusing all his efforts to bring you over the edge, Stan reaches for your chest, thumbing your sensitive nipples, causing you to flinch and squirm beneath him. His face buried in the crook of your neck as he groans against your ear, “So fucking good for me, you take my cock perfectly, angel. God, you don’t know what you do to me..” His hips reel back, delivering slow yet deep strokes that finally push you and him over the edge.
Stan grins against your neck, feeling and hearing you come undone beneath him. He loves how you latch onto him, clinging on for dear life as he slows his strokes down to help you ride out your orgasm. His cock twitches with each lazy drag, murmuring sweet praise into your ear, “That’s it… did so good for me, sweetheart.” With a stutter in his own hips, he cums as well, filling you to the brim with a guttural groan before collapsing on your chest.
You both lay there for a while, your thighs aching in the best way possible. You run your fingers through Stan’s brown locks, curling the ends of his mullet in your finger. The sound of your heartbeat echoes through Stan’s eardrums, relishing in your warmth. 
“Um… toots?” Stan mutters, causing you to look down with a raised eyebrow. 
It’s almost comical to see the man that just had you seeing stars looking abashed as he asks, “Could.. I..”
“Spit out, Pines.” You chuckle teasingly.
“Hey, you’re the one who couldn’t even form a sentence a few minutes ago.” Stan huffs before muttering against your skin, “Mind if I stay the night…?”
You stare down at Stan in understanding, tilting his chin to pull him in for a soft kiss.
“Of course, Stan. You can stay as long as you need.”
You can be the boss
Taste like a keg party, back on the sauce
I like you a lot, I like you a lot
Don't let it stop
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Text
November's Naughty and Nice Stories
Day 7: Coffee Date
Stan x Reader fluff
Some language!
It was chilly and overcast as Stan drove the car into Gravity Falls, wanting to take you out, and show you off, enjoying your company.
He parked the car, and you two walked in and out of the little shops on the main street, him with his arm around you while you rested your head on his chest as you browsed together. He was all dressed up, wearing his tan suit and red dress shirt just so. He didn't have his fez today, and you couldn't help but keep admiring him, all while he was doing so in turn to you.
"Stan, could we go look in the book store? I wanted to see if they had anything new I could pick up...I just finished the last one Ford suggested on urban legends," and you laughed a little. "He said it should have honestly been in the non-fiction section, but people never learn."
"You can go ahead, babe...I was goin' to go down to the dry cleaners and see if they got my shirts done....Don't tell Ford, but I snuck a bunch of his sweaters in because they were reekin'," and he gave you a peck on the head, and then a longer kiss before you parted.
"I'll meet you back here in a half hour, hon. Love you."
"Love you too....And take your time. I'll be around. I know how ya get in there. I might just end up sleeping in the car waitin'!" And he walked down the street, as you stepped in the shop.
It was mostly books, but it had other things, like DVDs, CDs, and other media stuff, but you knew what you were getting. You ordered it months ago, and it finally showed up for you. But, you took some time, and browsed for a bit, picking up a couple books, some postcards for Stan's great nephew and great niece, and finally, your order.
You stepped outside, and looked around, noticing Stan on one of the benches nearby, and you snuck up on him, planting a kiss on his cheek.
"Hey gorgeous," he said, smiling, and then pulling his arm around to you. There were two dozens roses greeting you in turn.
"Stanley! You didn't need to get those! Oh, they're beautiful! Wait, you didn't steal them, did you?" and you gave him an eyebrow look.
"No, I didn't, but I shoulda! The florist are the real thieves in this town!" he retorted. "But ya like 'em?"
"Yes, yes I do. Thank you, and I love you."
"Love ya too, babe. Now let's go get some coffee. It looks like the sky is going to open up on us."
You booked it to the coffee shop before the ominous sky opened up, and picked a quiet little corner booth near the window, sipping coffee together, avoiding the gawkers. People still weren't used to seeing Stan Pines, the miser in the Shack, married to someone that apparently "was out of his league" and "too nice for him", even if it had been over 2 years. But you just didn't care. You were in your mid 40s, and him in his early 60s. You've done nothing wrong.
"This is nice just kinda being away from everyone...Sorry these assholes still give ya looks about me," Stan said apologetically.
"Stanley Pines, you know I don't give a shit what they all think...You make me happy, and I hope I make you happy."
He smiled a small grin, but you could read his face still felt bad. He went into these bouts where he still had lingering thoughts you shouldn't be together. He didn't talk much about it, but at the same time, you knew he felt like you could do better. You couldn't see that though. You nuzzled deep into his jacket, and looked up at him, kissing his neck in a gentle manner.
"I love the roses. They are gorgeous. I love who you are. And I love this life with you," you whispered into his ear.
"Christ, hon," he rubbed his eyes. "There's a ton of dust in here....And I love ya too. More than you'll ever know. Thanks for stickin' it out with me. I ain't much, but I'm more with ya in my life."
You squeezed him, and remembered. "Hey, actually, I was in the bookstore, and got you something!"
"Huh, I don't read much, sweetheart, you know that. That's more of Ford's nerd thing."
"Just take it."
It was a little wrapped package that he opened, and when he pulled it from the paper, his mouth dropped.
"Y/N, you....How did you know? I mean, shit, I...uh..."
He held up the copy of The Duchess Approves, the Golden Edition, and you saw tears slowly come out from his eyes. "Thank you." He whispered into your forehead, kissing it hard.
"It's the "Super Boring Extended Edition" too! It's got behind the scenes of that one guy that plays Count Lionel giving his last interview at the hospital before his hair replacement surgery botched....And a mini documentary on the costumes...And..."
"I love it, hon. I didn't know you knew nothin' about my, uh, 'guilty pleasure'."
"Eh, Ford told me about it, and I've been searching for months since it was out of print. But, I'd love to watch it with you, if you would like me to."
Stan looked outside, and you both hadn't realized it had become a torrential downpour, and most everyone had left.
"We can later...For now, I just wanna sit with the most wonderful wife in the world," and you kissed each other deep, and watched the rain fall peacefully.
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matrixbearer2024 · 2 days ago
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Hey guys, sorry for the lack of updates- but have been overtaken by the urge to ART and RP with @gftimelord and @gftimelordstwin, I'll likely get back to whatever requests I've got(drawing or writing) or just anything in general-
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If you wanna chill out with me and some friends, or just catch up to the things I'm doing- head over to this discord server or this magma I'm perpetually doodling on. Can't wait to see you guys there!
I think I'll be focused on heavily gravity falls stuff, but I don't mind gathering requests for some VoxxReader content on here again since I miss writing for the blockhead. I'll likely also write for Stan, Ford and Bill with the XReaders if anyone's interested. Also, here's a bonus journal entry from Doc(Ford) and Lee(Stan) for my time lord twins AU- I'll be posting a Google doc for the AU soon with some comics.
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multi-fandom-imagine · 58 minutes ago
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⇰𝙶𝙸𝙻𝙵 || Stanley Pines ||
A/n: I wrote this based around this image
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"I got you something?"
Whipping his head around, Stan gave you a large grin as he stepped close to you. "Oh ya?" Placing his hand on your hips he pressed his nose into your neck as you let out a small laugh pushing him away.
"Get your mind out of the gutter Pines..."Shaking your head you placed the shirt in his hands. "It's this...hope you like it."
Stepping away, Stan titled his head to the side then scratched his cheek. With a small shrug he made his way to the room slipping the shirt on. Standing in front of the mirror the man wrinkled his nose at the writing on the shirt.
"Babe?"
"Yah?"
"GILF? What does it mean?"
Pausing, you made your way towards the man as you cleared out your throat. "Gu-..." you paused feeling your cheeks creep up your neck. "Grunkle...I want to fuck" you muttered.
Blinking a few times, a large smile formed on Stans face as he barked out a laugh as his arms wrapped around your waist tugging you to his chest. "I'm never taken this off."
Letting his hand wander down your ass, the man gave it a squeeze. "So...wanna fuck?"
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stansangel · 2 months ago
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Take a Pic
Ford keeps a picture of you in one of his coat pockets ALWAYS. Even when he was in other dimensions it was always with him. (He lined the pocket with steel so it couldn't get destroyed. He didn't want to forget what you look like.) When he came back he was OBSESSED with taking pictures of you/drawing pictures of you.
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Stan keeps one of you in his wallet, he shows it off all the time. It's a terrible picture of you that he took with a polaroid camera when you first woke up one morning, Mabel has a copy of it in one of her scrapbooks. He also keeps pictures of you and the rest of the family throughout the house/gift shop. They're so cutie patootie.
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months ago
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Stanley is obsessed with calling you his wife/husband/ spouse that he uses it more often then he does your actual name.
‘Have you met my wife/husband/spouse?’
‘My wife/husband/spouse is gorgeous.’
‘All marriage is a sham but my marriage to my wife/husband/spouse is going great, you lot be safe though.’
Stanley loves calling you his wife/husband/ spouse because you saying yes was the best thing in his life in a really, really long time and he didn’t want to fuck this up in the slightest.
Ford says it because he’s in disbelief that you actually married him.
So much so that he mumbles ‘I have a wife/husband/spouse?’ Constantly as the smile on his face gets bigger as he exclaims ‘I HAVE A WIFE/HUSBAND/SPOUSE!’ He then rushes over to you, holds your face as he kisses it while thanking you for being his wife/husband/spouse.
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emgrth · 1 month ago
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Alright which one of you did this 🫵
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joyceyayo · 1 month ago
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Baby Ford reaching for the yellow triangle on his mobile…
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They’re so cute I can’t 🥹 and the way Caryn is just taking a selfie with them as stan screams so hard he’s turning red 😭
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simplydozing · 2 months ago
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𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐃𝐨𝐥𝐥
Stanley Pines x Reader Multiple rounds through the shack, one being a little more harsh (and memorable) than the others. Word Count: 1959 || Ao3
⚠️❗ Contains 18+ Content ❗⚠️
⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆
You don’t know how it happened, but god, what a miracle it was.
 The whole Mystery Shack was empty. Everyone was out except for you and your darling Stanley.
Which led to you being fucked and thrown around like the rag doll you were.
 There’s already a huge mess trailing from your shared room. The day started off strong with some lazy morning lovemaking that then quickly escalated into a primal hunger for more.
And Stanley’s stamina could not be further from over.
 He had you on the rails of the staircase displaying yourself for him to go down on you. You were on your hands and knees in the bathroom taking his length after you said you’d “freshen up.” Both of you ran up the hot water in the shower while he pinned you against the wall, and even then, you’d warm him back up with your hands alone.
 It took a lot of convincing, willpower, and blowing to get him to finally take a break.
 You needed some time to recover, so you decided to make breakfast while he was getting dressed in his iconic suit.
 Which led you to now.
 You finished cooking by the skin of your teeth when he waltzed in and saw your figure leaning against the counter. Your oversized sleep shirt was slipping off your shoulder as you poured coffee in both your mugs. He shares a moment of sincerity, gladly taking his cup and kissing you on the top of your head. It wasn’t until he started to get a better look at you when he started getting hard again.
 Your shirt barely covered your shorts, exposing your perfect legs. They were crossed over each other, and following them up brought attention to the way you were in your relaxed state. You held your cute little mug in both hands, and as you brought it up to sip on, your eyes would close so you could savor it. Your hair was messy, but it only added to how effortlessly gorgeous you looked. And when you would look back up at him, your eyes would shimmer, like they were pleading.
 He had to take you yet again.
“…And I think the Shack- Stanley are you listening to m-“
 He attacks you, yanking you by the shoulders and plunging his tongue down your throat. Your mug drops to the floor, the sound of the shattering ceramic making you jump, but you’re not going to do anything about that. Not right now.
 Your hands flew through his hair. Your eyes were glued shut as you tried to focus on his pace and match it.
 But Stan, being the man of many surprises, asserts his dominance by lifting you and propping you on the counter, earning him a squeal from you.
 He never slowed down, even when slipping his fingers in the hem of your shorts and trying to pull them off. But you chewed his bottom lip, signaling him to stop. And he does, but with a slightly disappointed look on his face.
“Come on, love. Breakfast is getting cold.”
  You caress his face and give a half-lidded smile.
  That’s not enough to stop him though.
 He looks over his shoulder at the stove that’s covered in pans of his favorites. He then turns his attention to the table that you cutely set up.
 A part of him feels bad for what he’s about to do to you. He leans in.
“I’m not hungry for that right now, doll.”
 Before you know it, you’re being lifted yet again and are being taken to that little table, which you are then slammed onto. You are bent almost all the way over it, your ribs press into the wood.
“S-Stanley!” You exclaim.
 He’s not listening though. Not until he hears your pleasurable screams and moans for the fifth time today.
 Your shorts are torn off and thrown behind him. You hear the fateful zip of his pants.
 He grabs the back of your neck to hold you down when he rams himself in you. You gas and shudder, feeling his whole length inside you all at once.
 He starts to thrust at an already fast speed.
 The table and everything on it rocks intensely. Some of the silverware falls. You’re gripping the tablecloth like your life depended on it.
 He keeps going, pounding harder and harder into you. His winded breathing grows more into rough growling as his grip on you gets stronger. You can feel his fingernails seep into your tender flesh.
 Tears prick at the corner of your eyes but it’s not from pain. Your own breathing- gasping- sounds more like wheezing. You can’t lift your head up to gulp in air, and his whole hand just about engulfs your throat. You tried calling out to him, but he’s so caught up in pleasure that you fear he’s tuned you out.
 It’s not until you slam your hands on the table to get his attention. Even then, it takes him a minute to slow down.
“St… P-Pines,” you rasp.
 He sees what he’s doing, and he removes his hand from its position at your nape. You take this opportunity to fill your lungs as much as you can before he can move on.
 You can’t see it, but he’s wearing a bastardly smirk on his face.
“If you needed help breathing you coulda just asked!”
 He bunches his fingers through the tangles of your hair, snatching your head upwards. He resumes his aggressive prodding. You didn’t know it was possible, but he was going deeper in you.
 Your eyes roll to the back of your head and saliva pools out your pretty little mouth. Your nails dig into the wood of the table, leaving small streaks engraved in it.
 You’re choking on your own spit. Stan can’t help but go wild at the sound of your gagging, so he pulls back your hair one last time. The strength he does it with makes you think he’s going to rip your head clean off before he lets go. You falter.
“Let me give ya somethin’ to gag on again.”
He pulls you in and reaches around to find your mouth. Your jaw is clenched, but he can feel where you’ve been salivating.
“Another wet hole just waiting for me,” his gruff voice warms your bare shoulder.
“Open up.”
 You follow his command and shakily part your lips for him. He decides you aren’t quick enough and jams his fingers in anyway. His middle and ring fingers are enough to make you struggle.
 He then matches his hand to the thrust of his hips. But it’s not enough.
He recalls the way you often use your teeth… need I say more?
“Shit. Teeth, doll, teeth.”
 You obey, not because you want to, but because that’s all you can do.
 You lower jaw stutters, bottom teeth grazing them.
“Come on.” His guttural voice fills your ears.
“You can handle much more than this.”
 Your eyes squeeze shut, your mouth does the opposite.
“There we go.”
You’re getting fucked in both ends  and there’s nothing you can do about it.
 He regains that same pace as before. He groans out of ecstasy yet again, but you don’t want it to stop. If it were up to you, it would never stop.
  He thinks the same of you, hearing you once again choking him down.
 You’re his plaything to have his way with.
 You’re his-
“Doll,” he hisses.
 You softly clamp down on his girthy calloused fingers, answering him.
“I’m- hnf. Oh, I’m ‘boutta c-“
 You already know, being the good little toy you are. So you act out, hearing down on his hand and moaning the loudest you ever had so far.
 You were well aware of the magic you worked on him. That was his favorite thing about you.
 Stan groaned out again, upping his hostility with you.
 And the more rough he was, the louder you moaned.
 He enjoyed your borderline screams a little too much. But how could he not? His precious angel was singing just for him.
 He was just about balls deep when you finally felt warm on the inside once more. One last thrust, and you suddenly feel the relief of him finishing.
 You then feel him letting up. Unsteady movements and heavy panting let you know he was done. He retracts his fingers, a thick string of saliva stretches out from your lips. He wipes it off on his suit jacket.
 Cum dribbles out your gaping hole when he agonizingly pulls out.
 He tucks it back in his pants and zips them back up. You’re left convulsing on the table as you try to recuperate.
 You brace yourself against it, palms pressing into the grain, and make an attempt to hoist yourself up.
 Seeing this, he’s right by your side, snaking an arm around your waist and gently picking you up.
 Your knees buckle and you stumble forward, but before you can fall, Stan pulls you to lean on him. You clench the lapels of his blazer. The scent of sweat and cigars flood your nose.
“Easy, now. Easy. Are you okay?”
 He reaches for the tablecloth, of all things, to wrap you in. He then finds a chair, and eases you in it. You wince on contact with the hard surface, but you wave it off when you see a twinge of him fretting.
“I’m okay, dear. Just a little sore,” you half-laughed.
“I-I’m sorry, doll. You were just- And I…”
“Stanley Pines.”
 You reach out and nab him by his string tie and tug him in, his blushing face now centimeters away from yours.
“I can handle much more than that,” you sneer.
 You cup his face and initiate another kiss.
 But before anything else could happen, you hear the screeching halt of that beat up golf cart.
 He pulls away.
“Shit. We gotta get you cleaned up. You okay to walk?”
 He offers you a hand, and you stand. Albeit wobbly, you use him for support to help guide you back upstairs to the bedroom. From there, you don’t lift a finger. He carefully wipes away any fluids with a damp washcloth and helps you get dressed.
 You both were halfway down the staircase again when the front door flew open.
 The twins, Soos, and Wendy looked around in shock.
“What happened here?!” Dipper started.
“Yeah, you both look bleggh,” Mable stuck her tongue out, mocking the undead.
 You and Stan glance at each other. You both should have straightened the place up in between rounds.
“Uhh, we were-”
“Attacked!”
“By were-”
“Spiders!”
 Damn it, Stanley.
“Were-spiders! We were attacked by giant were-spiders, yeah,” it took all the strength in you not to smack him upside the head.
Thankfully, the group bought it. At least the kids did. Dipper was flipping out and Mabel darted to their room screaming. Her brother right behind her. All Soos and Wendy cared about was finding somewhere to knock out for possibly the rest of the day, too exhausted to care about anything else. They drag each other another few steps before passing out on the floor in front of you.
 You and Stanley just stand there.
“Giant were-spiders, really?”
 You break the silence and cross your arms.
“It’s better than ‘We were struck by a tornado,’”
 He shrugs. You shake your head.
 Back to silence. You both look around.
“We really need to clean this place up before anyone gets suspicious. I’m pretty sure I left my shorts in the kitchen.”
“Yeah…”
Needless to say, the rest of the day was spent putting the shack back together, and perhaps there were a few more rounds when no one was paying attention.
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pix-writes · 2 months ago
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Stanley Pines relationship HCs
(stan pines x reader), I hc Stanley to be dyslexic, yet another bit of writing about old guys getting to be freaky so 18+ below!
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tho surprisingly fluffy at times, I just think this guy needs a good hug.
At first I think Stan would flirt with that rather brash confidence of his pick up artist/con man persona with you in the beginning, espeically turns to joking if you are choosing to riff/banter (whatever you want to call it) in response to his cheeky remarks. He likes to know he's met his match with a person who's not afraid to put him in his place!
But when he actually knows he's falling for someone then I think he would actually be more reserved, shy even, though it's not always outwardly obvious. If you are (or he thinks you are) talking to/got the hots for someone else he'll be even more withdrawn and gruff with you than he is usually.
I think that it's likely you get together after a series of awkward and/or funny scenarios/converations, like "What are you waiting for a kiss on the cheek?" "Yes, actually." "Can it, smartass!" ... ... "WAIT... What?!" "What?!!" 😳 type deal. Mabel has probably also caught on and is trying to put you in matchmaking situations.
Whilst both the stans are protective over their partners, Stanley is the more... possessive one, mostly in a good way: he wants to provide for you so that you're taken care of, he may not have much but he wants to know that you have less to worry about than him. Does NOT share, can enjoy showing you off and people looking but they can't touch!
He's lives a mostly independent life, so I can see him getting with someone equally (or more) independent and whilst that can reduce some of his worries, cause he knows you can look after yourself, he also still worries! 😅 and he wants to feel needed by a partner, so you might need to let him take the lead or do things/roles in your shared life for you, even if its just something mundane. Like, if you're shorter than him, he will do petty things like putting stuff out of your reach so you have to ask for his help (even if you try to do it for yourself will reach for it before you... Will also put a hand on your ass when he does it 😂).
Realises (subconsciously at least) that you help releive some of the burdens off of him as well. That said, definitely let him do everything for you when you go on dates (after the first one, where you put up a virtuous protest about paying for yourself), he's an old fashioned, almost-chivalric romantic at heart. He'd never admit to being sappy though and states that its simply 'the way to do things' or 'I'm just taking care of my girl'.
The rest of the Pines family realises when he's serious about you because that's when he won't spare on gifts for you. They don't have to be (and probably won't be) super expensive, he'll pick you up little things as well, a wilty bunch of discounted flowers from the store happens to appear sporadically yet often in the mystery shack, saying something a little flirty about how you can make them perk up (the sap!), and you can roll your eyes or quip back at him all you want but he sees how much you appreicate them, which makes up for the times he can be a bit more careless or in a grumpy mood.
Underneath all that confident persona is quite a bit of insecurity, that's not to say that all of his confidence is false, but he definitley has some old self worth/belief issues. Will often wonder what you're doing 'with an old man like him' (no matter if you're the same age or what) especially in the beginning of the relationship. The good thing is that he's susceptible to your compliments ;) and he's often stunned that someone he finds so beautiful is with him and will tell you at the most random times that he's a 'lucky guy' or that he's 'hit the jackpot', like you can be in bed in the rattiest stained t shirt, hair in rags, face mask on, haven't brushed your teeth, doing a crossword puzzle in bed, whatever, and he'll say something along those lines or about how beautiful you are to which you can either a) think he's joking and laugh/say something witty in return, or b) say "what even when I'm (insert something seen as unattractive here)?" Please know that he is SO serious when he says this.
The downside is that whilst stan has made leaps and bounds of improvements to taking care of himself, espeically when he knew the twins were coming for the summer and post-weirdmageddon (since he doesn't have to worry about the portal anymore), he still has a lot of filthy habits! He can be lazy and want to be in comfy clothes rather than a suit all the time, sure, that's fine, but what can really drive a partner crazy is the nail clippings on the floor or the hair clogged up drains in the bathroom and not cleaning up after himself properly! He honestly shouldn't be surprised that this is one of the things you can argue about regularly, old married couple style (he's been divorced enough times to learn this before and yet here you are! ^^')
Stanley Pines is Stubborn with a capital S and so there's some things he's not willing to change, but there will be some things he knows are important to you that he'll try to make progress towards, he'll also go towards taking even more care of himself in different ways, too, since he wants to spend the best amount of time that he can with you and his family.
Keeps photos of you dipper and mabel in his wallet. Considers the twins, wendy and Soos the kids you never had, so he's gotten over all the 'what could've beens' that used to make him sad before.
Will teach you some good boxing moves and punches for sure, even if you do know how to defend yourself. And takes you fishing and will teach you a bunch of practical things, if you ask him to show you he'll be over the moon!
Will preen so much when you praise him or acknowledge his achievements, actually was holding back tears when you said you were proud of him for getting his qualifications (after he spent so long without a HS degree/equivalent). Through working on the portal is SO smart, an equally skilled sailor and navigator etc etc as Ford, may not have the same methods of working stuff out as his brother but acutally knows a lot of disparate things, engineering, mechanics, physics, fishing, wierd loopholes in laws in different states and so on! Once weirdmageddon and the loss of memory has passed, Ford is genuinely touched by Stan's knowledge - a reminder of what he went through to get him back - as well as thrilled to speak to him on subjects that he never expected to share with his twin.
If he was asked whether he's a tits or ass man, he would say both, but honestly, he really loves thighs, I think he has a big attraction to curvy women in particular, but he would love his partner no matter what size/shape/gender (he's definitely bi, just more leaning towards hetero on the kinsey scale in my mind).
Stan is a menace when it comes to teasing, he's made an art form out of riling you up, loves when you get feisty with him. If you're bratty and push his buttons though, he'll give you time to run 🫠 will he give you a fair countdown or skip some of it? Depends on how generous he's feeling, so you better not stick around! Game for getting a little freaky, has a pair of handcuffs for this very reason, likes to be in charge but wouldn't mind being 'arrested' if it's by you 😉 (you can depend upon it that he knows how to escape them at any time though).
Total goof when he's relaxed, it's like being with a best friend, just be willing to get roasted on occasion (lovingly). You both watch ducktective and period dramas together, though he'll swear he's not into the latter - until he starts a running commentary on the plot.
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darlingdaisyfarm · 9 days ago
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feeling pretty low today, so i’m turning to these two old men for a little comfort
nsfw under the cut, fem!reader
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˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ Stan likes to call you:
sweetheart, honeybun, doll face and on occasion baby girl. when he’s feeling extra bold? princess — always with that unmistakable smirk
calls you “my good luck charm" if you help him out in the Shack, especially when he’s trying to swindle a tourist and you flash a pretty smile.
✦ “c’mere, darlin’. can’t let a fine gal like you walk around without her prince.”
✦ “ah, y’know, you’re the only reason I don’t go completely nuts in this crazy town. sometimes, doll, I think yer my only sane thought all day.” said so casually as if it’s not gonna hit you right in the heart
✦ if you get hurt (even the tiniest scratch), he’s going into dad mode: “who do I gotta knock some sense into, huh?” even if you’ll tell him it was just a clumsy accident, he’ll grumble, “well, now I’m the one hurt. bein’ all worried like that. you’re killin’ me, kid.” 
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˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ Ford likes to call you:
“dearest” when he’s feeling soft, sweetheart, darling, honey, baby
he’ll whisper “love” against your temple when he thinks you’re drifting to sleep, his voice quiet and reverent like it’s sacred to him
starlight – Ford’s been out in those other dimensions, faced down monsters and madness, but he says he’s never found anything so bright, so grounding. “c’mere, starlight, I’m not finished admiring you.”
༄ “don’t laugh, but. . . I’d chase you across universes, even if it took me another thirty years. no dimension is worth exploring without you by my side.”
༄ if you’re reading one of his journals, Ford’ll slide up behind you, his hands on your shoulders as he murmurs, “curious, are we? so, what do you think of my work?”
༄ he’s not a show-off, not by any means, but catch him fixing up a machine? he’ll lift his gaze to you, smiling. “I could teach you, you know. but you’d have to be a very attentive student.”
༄ oh, if Ford wrote about you in his journal, you know it’d be scrawled between notes on trans-dimensional theories and arcane symbols, the ink smudged in places where he hesitated, where his pen hovered just so before he let himself write the truth
“Strange anomalies detected….. not in the temporal or metaphysical sense, but in a far more personal dimension. Subject exhibits an inexplicable gravitational pull, distinct from any gravitational force I've previously documented. When I observe her, I feel an uncharacteristic deviation in my thought patterns, an accelerated heartbeat not caused by heightened blood pressure or adrenaline, but by… attraction. Confounding. She’s somehow eclipsing the most rational parts of my mind.”
And, because Ford’s words can’t capture the whole of it, there’d be tiny sketches of you, like half-finished thoughts.
nsfw
what Stan says during sex:
“Damn, honey, you’re makin’ an old man feel young again. Don’t stop.”
“You’re makin’ me wanna be a better man, but not right now, baby, not right now.”  
“Mmm, there it is— yeahh, keep doin’ that. . . feels so good, darlin’, you got no idea.”
“Makin’ all these pretty noises, huh? Lemme hear ‘em, baby. Don’t hold back on me.”
“You’re somethin’ else, y’know that? I’m gonna be thinkin’ ‘bout that pussy all week.”  
“Fuckin’ hell, don’t know if I’m gonna last much longer with you doin’ that.”  
“Look at ya, so needy for me, beggin’ to be filled. You got me so riled up, I can barely think— ah, f-fuck. . .”
 Ford:
“Ohh— sweetheart, you feel even better than I imagined, i’ve waited for this.”  
“I need you so much it scares me.”  
“You’re brilliant, utterly captivating. . . yesyesyes, keep moving like that, please.”  
“Tell me exactly what you want, darlin, I need to hear you say it.”  
“I never thought I’d feel this way again; you’ve woken something in me.”  
“God, I can’t— can’t believe you’re letting me have you. I need you so much, it hurts.”
“Mmm, god, yes. . . yes, you’re mine, all mine. . . can’t believe I get to have you like this.”
“O-oh god, you feel so tight around me, sweetheart, I can’t-can’t hold back!”
“Please, oh, please— just, just like that, don’t stop, keep. . . keep going. . .”
“I can’t help myself; I need you. I want to feel you around me.”
“You’re so fucking beautiful when you’re like this. I can’t take my eyes off you.”
“Oh gosh, I need you to take me deeper. Please, baby.”
“Tell me how good it feels; I want to hear it.”
“You feel incredible. I could stay buried inside you forever.”
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viceroywrites · 3 months ago
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deja vu - part 2
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planning out your road trip through the pacific northwest, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to the town of gravity falls.
little did you know that this town held more memories than you could have possibly imagined.
too bad you didn't remember any of them.
stan x fem!reader/ford x fem!reader
choose your own ending / contains fluff and angst (w/ happy ending)
(if you would like a link to the playlist i created for this series, lmk!)
part one | part three
tag list: @awitchersbard / @theilluminatidragonqueen / @jazzypop-op/ @maryclanders/ @chaimshelii/@starship606/ @swimmingrascalbatdragon / @stanfordsbaby / @gxstiess / @skrunkle11 / @valinbean / @funkyenby / @therealgoofygoober69 / @theblueraven / @adrian920155 / @im-kinda-bored / @miarabanana / @uwauiss / @leo4242564 / @doggosnoodles12 / @soupieoopieisloopie / @zhungxi / @bandaids-n-porcelain / @marvelous-maniac / @opossumclown
It was a tense interaction following your question. 
Ford’s eyebrows raised in alarm and he carefully approached you, “Of course, we’ve met before, it’s me, Stanford.”
You pause, glancing between Stanley and his twin before replying hesitantly, “Sorry, the name doesn’t ring a bell. I just learned your name a few seconds ago from your brother.”
Ford’s lips narrow into a thin line, vexation written all over his face, “I know we parted ways on less than ideal terms, Y/N, but there’s no reason to pretend like you don’t recognize me.”
Your eyebrow raised at Ford’s firm stance, crossing your arms, “I’m sorry to say but I truly don’t. Maybe you have me mistaken for someone else perhaps?” You can’t help but get defensive, feeling accused that you were blowing off this complete stranger.
“Oh, I’m not mistaken. I know you very well, Y/N. I know that you got your Masters in Geology at Backupsmore. I know that ammolite is your favorite gemstone. I know that you learned hamboning from Fiddleford just to get on my nerves.” Ford counters you with facts, his own stubbornness coming through as you stare each other down.
Your eyes widen at the amount of detail Ford seems to know about you, “How do you know all these things about me? How do you know Fiddleford? Did you help him with his research out here?”
Ford sighs heavily, “I know I messed up back then and I know you must hate me but can you please drop this childish charade?” His low voice raises slightly in volume as his frustration mounts as he finally snaps at you. 
“Ford!” Stan cuts in between the two of you, catching both of you off guard, “Lay off her… I genuinely think she doesn’t… remember.” He sighs, putting the pieces together surprisingly quickly compared to his brother. He grabs his twin by the arm, pulling him off to the side, “Give us a second, we’ll be right back.” Stan says to you, giving you an apologetic stare.
You nod slowly as you decide to take a seat on the steps, watching as the sun slowly begins to set in the horizon. This new information perplexes you as you try to wrack your brain if Fiddleford had ever mentioned working with someone during his time in Gravity Falls. 
Meanwhile, the Pines twins walk off into the distance, just out of ear shot. “So who is she?” Stan questions, needing answers from his brother before he can present his finding. Ford bristles at  the question, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he looks off into the distance before answering, “Remember when we were out at sea commiserating on past romances… and I told you how I had met someone during my time in college but she left after I had gotten too deep into my involvement with Bill.”
“Yeah, vaguely, I thought you were just making that up to try and relate to my stories about my ex-wives. You never were smooth with the ladies.” Stan admits with a shrug to which Ford rolls his eyes at. “Well, that’s her. The age old cliche of the one that got away.” Ford summarizes, “But she was never this petty before. I know I hurt her immensely but…”
“She’s not being petty, poindexter. Haven’t you figured it out yet?” Stan sighs, running a hand over his face in exasperation. Ford stares back blankly at him, unsure how to respond. “God, you’re supposed to be the smart one here. Remember your old friend McGucket’s invention? You know the one that can literally erase memories? The one that erased all my memories?” Stan spells it out for his brother.
It all clicks in Ford’s head, “You don’t think… Fiddleford wiped her memory, do you?” 
“Ding, ding, we got a winner!” Stan says sardonically, “Took ya long enough.”
“Why would he do that? I need to get to the bottom of this, Stanley…” Ford looks over his brother’s shoulder, staring at you. Despite the time that has passed, you look just as vibrant as he remembered you, your features highlighted in the orange glow of the sunset. 
Stan notices the longing look on his brother’s face and places a hand on his shoulder, “You know she’s supposed to head out tomorrow morning? Got a whole road trip planned ahead.”
“Well, let’s see if she’d at least be willing to stick around to talk to Fiddleford.” Ford says with steely determination as he begins to walk back towards you, Stan following at his heels.
You look up as the pair walk up to you, able to see them side by side. There were distinct differences in terms of style but they were nearly identical, only just now picking up the cleft in Stanford’s chin and their different glasses. 
Ford mulls over his choice of words. Despite being the more logical twin, Ford had to admit he was perhaps just as stubborn as his brother. “My apologies for my directness. I know you may not remember me, but please trust me when I say that we have an extensive history together. What if we were to visit Fiddleford tomorrow to perhaps quell your doubts and clarify some things?” He offers, hoping in the back of his mind that you’ll say yes.
You pause at the offer, thinking it through. You had the urge to decline, still on the defense. After all, this man pretty much accused you of acting like a child when you didn’t recognize him.
However, you did wish to see Fiddleford again, so curious about what happened to him after all these years. 
“Alright, I’ll stay another day in Gravity Falls to see Fiddleford. But I want to know a little bit more about you.” Your eyes narrow in on Ford. Stan clears his throat, very aware of the tension between the two of you. “Well, I’m gonna go take care of… the broken thing inside...” He grumbles out the last part, making an awkward escape as he walks past you up the steps before pausing at the door to address you, “Come back inside whenever you and Sixer are done talking, I’ll clear out one of the rooms so you can stay for the night.”
Before you can protest, Stan closes the screen door behind him, giving you and Ford some privacy.
“So you had some questions for me?” Ford sighs, deciding to take a seat next to you. It felt so strange to be so close to you physically after all this time yet so distant due to your loss of memories, wishing that he could pull you into a tight embrace and apologize for everything that happened in the past. 
“Well, I’m assuming if you know Fiddleford and somehow know that I got my Masters in Geology that you went to Backupsmore as well.” You start there, knowing the common thread that connects the two of you is the university you all attended, “That’s correct, not my first choice obviously.” Ford replies with a nod.
“Is it anyone’s first choice?” You comment which pulls a chuckle from Ford who shakes his head. “Very true, I know it wasn’t either of ours. Fiddleford was just elated to be the first in his family to even go.”
“So what did you major in?” You ask with a tilt of your head, “And how did you meet Fiddleford?”
“What didn’t I major in is the better question. I technically have 12 PhDs but my main focuses were Physics and Molecular Biology.”  Ford admitted with a sense of pride, your jaw almost dropping at this information. ”As for how I met Fiddleford, I had proposed a theory in class one time that immediately got shot down by my professor. But Fiddleford shared my passion for pushing boundaries of existing theories and knowledge and we spent the whole night trying to prove it had validity.” Ford said, smiling at that particular memory. 
You note the admiration in Ford’s voice as he speaks of Fiddleford, knowing that their relationship must be close. “I’m so confused… how do I not remember you if you and Fiddleford have such a close relationship?” You sigh, second guessing your own memories at this point. All this information felt like it made sense logically but it was difficult to suspend your disbelief. You hesitate to ask the question, “How... did we meet?”
Ford pauses, staring out into the forest, unable to meet your gaze as he recounts your first meeting. It seems so distant but it was a simple time before life got complicated. 
Before he made your lives complicated. 
Before he can reply, you cut him off, seeing the pained look in his eyes and realizing you may have gone too far. Whoever you were to him, something must have happened between the two of you that led to this reaction. “Actually, don’t answer that… It's getting late and I know we’ll have all of tomorrow to go over this with Fiddleford.” 
“Right… we should probably call it for the evening.” Ford lets out a sigh of relief, getting up from his spot on the steps. He offers his hand, your eyes flicking towards it and noting the six fingers that were facing towards you. Realizing what you’re staring at, he is about to withdraw his hand, an embarrassed flush to his cheeks, but you take it, your warm fingers wrapping around his palm, as you stand up. 
“Are you heading inside?” You ask, still holding into his hand. He realizes you have yet to let go and basks in the moment, fighting the urge to intertwine his fingers with yours. “I’m going to stay out here for a bit longer. I should probably fix that invention that I was working on before…” Ford admits, almost waiting for you to scold him like you would in the past.
But you don’t.
Instead, you nod in understanding, squeezing Ford’s hand one final time before letting go. “Alright, I’m gonna head inside and see where I’m sleeping for the night…” You begin to walk towards the doorway before pausing at the door. 
“Hey… I’m sorry I don’t remember you. I really hope tomorrow something sparks my memory.” You say, “Good night, Stanford.” You disappear behind the doorway, not waiting for him to respond.
Ford stares as he watches your frame retreat from behind the door, “Good night, Y/N… my dear.” The old pet name feeling heavy on his tongue but he can’t help but let it out.
-
As you stare up at the ceiling, you wonder how you even ended up in a storage room inside a tourist trap, laying on an air mattress.
Your trip - at least for the next day or so - is derailed. You’re thankful that Stan had offered to let you stay in the Mystery Shack as you were planning on sleeping in your car underneath the stars, drained from today’s turns of events and too tired to drive into town to try and find some sort of accommodation.
Yet your trip isn’t even the most pressing thing on your mind.
Who is Stanford Pines?
Your eyes shut tightly, trying to mull over the potential possibilities of how you might know this man who vehemently claims to know you. You knew you were getting older but there’s no way your memory was this shot, especially considering the fact that Ford had shared that he and Fiddleford were close friends and went to Backupsmore.
Your mind continued to draw blanks, unable to pinpoint a single memory that involved him.
Yet something about him was so familiar. Maybe that’s why a sense of deja vu had hit you the moment you met his brother and walked through the Mystery Shack.
Finally, fatigue hits you and you are able to fall asleep, slipping into a new dream.
You find yourself back at Backupsmore, walking through the quad and making your way to the library. The campus is decorated in hues of orange and yellow, autumn leaves scattered across the grass. Your boots crunching against the leaves as you weave through the bodies that mill around to and from class.
A gust of wind hits your face, wincing as the harshness against your skin as you had forgotten to bring a scarf on your trek. You finally make it to the library, opening the heavy doors to be greeted to the warmth and scent of old paperback books. 
You walk past the front desk, making your way directly to the back of the library to the stacks. You pass the mostly empty study carrels one by one, looking for someone specific.
You get to the very end of what seemed like a never ending maze and see a table tucked into the corner, surrounded by bookshelves. A broad-shouldered figure, wearing a sweater vest, sits facing away from you, their head buried in the pile of books around them. 
Your lips begin to move, calling out a name to address the person before you.
Stanford.
You wake up in a startle, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you feel a sudden pressure on your chest. Your eyes adjust to the sight in front of you, seeing a blur of pink, thinking you’re still dreaming. Rubbing your eyes vigorously, you realize there’s a pig sniffing your face in curiosity.
“God, what have I gotten myself into?” You groan out groggily, laying back in defeat as Waddles begins to lick your cheek.
-
Meanwhile in the kitchen, Ford sits awkwardly in front of an audience of his great nephew and niece who are gaping at him in awe, just having explained the whole situation to them as they questioned who’s car was parked in the front of the Mystery Shack.
Stan sips from a mug that spells ‘World’s Greatest Grunkle’ that Mabel made him, a slightly amused grin spreading across his face. The look on their faces was priceless, he thinks to himself, wishing he could take a photo of it. Though, he was in their shoes just last night, still processing that his poindexter brother actually landed someone after all those years of fearing girls and that she somehow ended up stranded on the side of the road just as he was driving back home.
He was just grateful though that his brother wasn’t around for the parts where he was clearly smooth talking to you, unaware that you were his twin’s ex-lover.
“Oh my god, Grunkle Ford, this is amazing!” Mabel exclaims, her eyes sparkling with excitement and mischief, “See, I’ve been trying to figure who the ideal candidate would be to match you with but I couldn’t think of anyone in Gravity Falls. Maybe you two can rekindle your romance! We just need to do what we did with Grunkle Stan and show her things to remind her of your time together!” 
“Or maybe her memories are stored where the Society of the Blind Eye held Old Man McGucket’s memories? There were a ton of Gravity Falls citizens’ names in there, I’m sure she’s somewhere in that pile.” Dipper offers as a suggestion, more invested in understanding how to restore memory loss from the Memory Gun than Mabel’s romantic plans for her uncle. 
Though he had to admit that there was a sliver of him that was rooting for his Grunkle Ford in the romance department.
“Those are excellent suggestions, kids. I’m hoping perhaps talking to Fiddleford today will be one of the first steps into getting her memory back. There is one issue though with your suggestion, Mabel.” Ford admits, slightly crestfallen, “I don’t really have anything left from our time we were together. When she left, she took all remnants of her, photos of us together, letters she wrote to me. What I do have left I’m not sure if it will be effective in bringing those memories back.”
“What is it, Grunkle Ford? Maybe we can still use it, you never know if you don’t try!” Mabel said in reassurance.
Ford hesitated, feeling Dipper, Mabel and Stan’s eyes trained on him, waiting for a response. 
Thankfully, your presence saved him in the nick of time, clearing your throat awkwardly. This catches everyone’s attention, Dipper and Mabel’s head whipping around. You stand in the entrance to the kitchen, still clad in your pajamas and your hair tousled from sleep, holding Waddles in your arms.
“Sorry if I’m interrupting, I just wanted to make sure this pig is supposed to be in here. He somehow got into my room.” You say, noticing how Waddles squirms now in your arms as he sees Mabel. You put him down and watch him scurry to Mabel who eagerly scoops him into her arms, nuzzling his pink cheek. 
“You’re all good, we were just having breakfast. Need a cup of coffee?” Stan says nonchalantly, grabbing the coffee pot that was by his elbow. You nod eagerly, walking towards him and taking the mug that he poured you. “These are me and Ford’s grandniece and nephew, by the way, since you didn’t get to meet them last night. They’re staying here for the summer.” Stan gestures to the two twins that are staring at you like you had a second head.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Mabel! Sorry about Waddles, he kinda wanders around the house if I’m not awake yet.” The energetic brunette introduces herself. “No need to apologize, he was very sweet. If anything, he got me out of bed to get my day started. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You say with a relaxed smile.
“I’m Dipper, nice to meet you. Grunkle Stan was just telling us how you ended up staying here.” The more relaxed male counterpart to Mabel chimed in, trying to move the conversation away from the topic discussed prior to you entering the room. Ford let out a slight sigh of relief, grateful that he was no longer in the hot seat.
“Well, your Grunkle Stan saved me from having to spend a pretty penny on a tow truck and a place to stay so I’m very grateful for that.” You chuckle, getting used to the term ‘Grunkle’.
“Sooo, Y/N, mind if I do a little Q&A with you? Since you’ll be staying here, I wanna get to know you better!” Mabel said eagerly, mentally mapping out her questions already. You blink owlishly before your eyes flick between Stan and Ford in amusement, “Fire away, Mabel. Though I hope your Grunkles didn’t put you up to this as a little payback for when I interrogated them yesterday?”
“She questioned you too?” Ford says in surprise to his brother who scratches chin mindlessly. “A little bit after finishing up the tour I gave her of the Mystery Shack. This one’s ruthless, no wonder she works for the government!” Stan taunts, causing you to roll your eyes. 
“Wait, you work for the government?” Dipper asks, his eyes slightly narrowing in skepticism. You blink at his almost defensive reaction before elbowing Stan in the side who almost chokes on his coffee, “I literally asked you three questions. Don’t listen to him, I work for the National Parks, not the CIA.” 
Dipper visibly relaxes and Mabel’s eyes linger on where you elbowed Grunkle Stan, picking up on how relaxed you seemed around him compared to Grunkle Ford. In fact, you had barely acknowledged Ford this morning, standing by the counter next to Stan. Mabel decides to take matters into her own hands, playing matchmaker as she gets up from her chair. 
“Well that answers one of my questions. By the way, take a seat, Y/N! You’re our guest and I’m finished with my pancakes!” She walks over to you, pulling you by the hand as you plop onto the chair that is coincidentally right next to Ford. “Thanks Mabel..” You roll with the situation before looking over at Ford who stares at you with what seems to be pride.
“You really made it to the National Parks, huh? That was your dream since freshman year…” Ford says though immediately regrets it as you stare back at him in surprise. “Yeah.. I did. No one really knew about that.. Not even Fiddleford.” You reply, running your thumb over the print on the mug bashfully. “Well, um... I’m really happy for you. I know you must have worked hard to get there.” Ford offers, not sure how else to respond.
You smile warmly, taking a sip from your coffee, “Thanks, I appreciate it. It means a lot coming from someone with 12 PhDs.” You tease at the end to which Ford’s cheeks redden in embarrassment and flattery.
Mabel hops up on the counter next to her Grunkle Stan who mutters under his breath, “Smooth move, kid.” 
You turn to look back at Mabel, “Any more questions for me?” 
Mabel taps her chin, deep in thought. Her eyes flicker over to great-uncle Ford who continues to stare at you in admiration. She snaps her fingers, putting her match-making skills to use once again, “What would you say is your type in a partner?”
“Mabel! What kinda question is that?” Dipper groans, shoveling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.
“Wow, we’re getting to the real hard-hitting questions.” You say in amusement, slightly caught off guard but amused. You ponder the answer yourself, wondering if the kids would understand what you mean by this.
“Well, does your generation know what a silver fox is?” You ask with a sheepish grin and a flush to your cheeks, rubbing the back of your neck.
Your answer causes a chain reaction of different responses.
Mabel squeals with an eager nod, looking over hopefully at her Grunkle Ford.
Dipper and Stan both end up spitting out their milk and coffee respectively.
Ford sits at the table, blinking in confusion.
“What’s a silver fox? Is that a new type of species?”
-
After cleaning up the mess that Stan and Dipper had made, you finally start getting ready to head out with Ford to visit your old friend. You stand in front of the bathroom mirror, fixing your outfit before reaching to grab the hairbrush Mabel graciously lets you borrow after you realize that you had forgotten yours in the car.
Stan walks down the stairs, having changed out of his white tank-top and pajama pants into clothes more suitable for going out. He pauses at the open bathroom door, leaning against the door frame, “Hey, while you and Poindexter catch up with McGucket, I’m gonna swing into town later tonight to get you a replacement battery for your car.”
Placing the brush down, you address Stan, “You sure? I can always ask Ford if we could stop by the auto shop on the way back to pick it up.”
Stan scoffs, “Please, my brother’s smart and knows a ton about science-y stuff but he’s hopeless when it comes to cars. Besides, I know a guy, I’ll get you a discount.”
“Alright.. Just let me know how much I owe you, I’m for sure paying you back.” You say hesitantly as you make your way towards the door. Stan steps aside to let you through, “Yeah, yeah,” he says dismissively.
Technically, that guy was Bud Gleeful and that discount was five-fingered but you didn’t have to know that.
“You found your way around the Mystery Shack pretty easily, by the way. Didn’t even have to show you where the bathroom was, I sometimes have a hard time finding it and I’ve lived here for over 30 years.” Stan comments. You realize that even this morning, you walked directly to the kitchen, almost like your feet knew where to go through pure muscle memory.
“Are you ready, Y/N?” Ford’s deep voice calls out, walking down the hallway to approach you and Stan. 
“Yeah, as ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” You say, slightly nervous to see Fiddleford again. What if he didn’t want to see you? What if he didn’t even remember you just like you couldn’t remember Ford?
Ford could see the furrow in your brow, a sign he had picked up through the years you had been together that you were overthinking. He hesitates for a second but places a hand on your arm, snapping you out of your rumination. “He’ll be elated to see you, Y/N. Though to give you a fair warning, he looks a lot different than how he did during our college days.” He says reassuringly.
You nod, smiling up at him, your nerves calmed down for now. “Thanks, Ford. I’m gonna go grab my bag and I’ll meet you outside.” You make your way back down the hallway, leaving the twins by themselves.
“Think she might already be starting to getting some of her memories back just by being here…” Stan muttered, following his brother outside. Ford’s eyebrow raises in confusion, “What makes you say that, Stanley?”
“She knows how to get around the house without even thinking about it. I know I gave her a tour but that was just the showroom and the gift shop.” Stan shares his observation, holding the door open for Ford as they step out into the front yard where Stan’s car is parked.
“Fascinating… maybe her memories may come back more organically than we had thought.” Ford muses before placing his hand out, “The keys, Stanley?”
Stan sighs, rummaging through his jacket before placing his keys in his brother’s hand, “You know I could have just driven you two up to the mansion but someone insisted I give you two alone time to bond.”
Ford squeezes the keys in his hand before smiling at his brother, “I should probably say thank you to Mabel then… and thanks Stanley for bringing her here.”
Stan punches his twin in the arm affectionately, “Whatever, I just better not see a scratch on El Diablo when you two get back.” Ford winces but grins, rubbing the spot on his arm.
Right on cue, you close the creaky door behind you, bag slung over your shoulder as you walk over to the pair, “Alright, I’m ready to go! Sorry, Mabel stopped me on the way out to ask my opinion on what sweater she should wear to the roller rink. Apparently, none of you guys have the taste to give her a valid opinion.” You chuckle.
“Roller rink? I swear these kids turn thirteen and think they can just go around without telling their Grunkle where they’re going.” Stan sighs in exasperation, calling out Mabel’s name as he walks back inside. You follow Ford to the car, sliding into the passenger side. “Sorry if my driving is a bit rusty, Stanley’s usually the one that drives us around when we’re in Oregon for the summer.” Ford apologizes in advance, pulling out of Mystery Shack and onto the open road.
“I mean as long we come out unscathed, I’m not complaining.” You say nonchalantly, taking in the sight of the massive trees that tower over the two way road in front of you. 
The two of you sit in silence for a bit, neither one of you knowing how to spark conversation. There lingered an unspoken heaviness, mostly due in part the intensity of your exchange the previous night. Ford desperately wanted to talk to you and yet he was drawing a blank on what to even talk about. 
As you make your way up the winding hills, Ford finally speaks up, deciding to ask you more about your work, “So you work for the National Parks? Are you a research scientist or did you go the natural resource conservation route?” He asks, remembering how you were torn between pursuing further research or honing in on your love of preserving nature.
“You’re pretty well-informed about the geoscience field. I just tell most people I look at rocks all day.” You admit, toying with the necklace that you had tucked into your shirt, “I started off in research but I realized that most of my time was spent in labs and studying specimens rather than actually out in the field. I love the parks so much, I was itching to get back out there so I switched to conservation.” 
“Makes sense, just studying concepts and theories in a controlled environment isn’t nearly as fun as getting hands-on experience.” Ford chuckles. His eyes flick over to see your fingers rolling around the vibrant orange gemstone attached to your necklace, almost choking on his spit. Your eyes meet his and your eyebrow raises as Ford’s expression is like he’s seen a ghost.
“You okay? Do I have something on my face?” You question, pulling down the sun visor to check your appearance in the mirror. Ford shakes his head vigorously, clearing his throat, “No… I… do you remember where you got that necklace?”
You pause at his query, putting the sun visor back into its original position and glancing down at the sunstone that dangles from the simple gold chain. “Oh this? I honestly don’t remember, I’ve had it for quite some time. Why do you ask?”
Ford takes a deep breath before looking back onto the road, “I… well… gave it to you. We drove up here from Backupsmore to start my grant research. Along the way, we stopped near one of the parks and you found that piece of sunstone. You carried it around everywhere so one night, I took the time to fashion it into a necklace so you’d never lose it.” 
There’s a pause before you speak. That pause felt like eternity to Ford.
“You know…I think you were in my dream last night...” You say, staring at the necklace with a newfound understanding. “I was back at Backupsmore and walking to the library. I ended up walking up to someone with their head buried in the books and I called out your name but I woke up after that.”
Ford was not expecting that response, looking over at you in alarm, “This may be a stretch but was there indication in your dream that it was fall?” You nod slowly.
“That was the first time we met. You were struggling with the section on seismic refractions in a physics course that I had taken a semester prior. Our professor recommended me as a tutor.” Ford recounts, his fingers gripping the wheel slightly tighter.
“Jeez… could all my dreams… just be memories?” You mutter to yourself but loud enough for Ford to hear it. “You’ve had other dreams….?” Ford questioned, his mind reeling with this discovery. “Yeah, I’ve had them for years. There’s always someone else in them… but before I can figure out or discern who it might be, my body wakes up.” You admit, rifling through your bag before pulling out a small leather bound journal.
“This is a bit embarrassing to admit but I’ve been keeping track of them here.” You say hesitantly as you hold up the leather bound journal. Ford stared between you and the journal in awe. He had always found preparation attractive and he thinks he may have fallen in love with you all over again.
“Perhaps we can go through some of them and see if it correlates to any memories I have.” Ford attempts to say with a steady voice but there’s a hint of excitement in his proposition. “I honestly would love that… I feel like I’ve been trying to crack the code of these dreams without any key.” You reply eagerly.
Ford makes the final turn up the hill, approaching the massive gates to what was formerly the Northwest Manor. Your eyes widen, staring at the impressive estate before you. You watch as Ford presses on the intercom, “Fiddleford, we’re here.” before the gates open to let you in.
“This.. is where Fiddleford lives? Did he make a breakthrough with his personal computers or something?” You question to which Ford chuckles nervously. “You could say that. Honestly, it’s quite a long story that we can talk about inside.” After parking the car in front of the fountain, Ford gets out of the car before opening the door for you.
You two make your way to the wooden front door, which bursts open soon after Ford raps his knuckles against it. You’re greeted by your friend, who looks considerably older despite being the same age as you and Stanford that you almost didn’t recognize him. Fiddleford embraces Ford first before stepping back to assess you. You gulp, anxiety filling up your system once again.
You’re quickly enveloped into a tight hug by Fiddleford, which you return. “My god, Fiddleford, it’s been too long. I thought you disappeared off the face of the Earth.” You said shakily. You two pull apart as Fiddleford grasps your arms, “Sweet sarsaparilla, look at you, Y/N! You make me and Ford look like old geezers! I’m real sorry I hadn’t reached out until now…”
“There’s no need to apologize, Fiddleford… I’m just glad we reconnected.” You say, a wave of nostalgia hitting you. “Come on in, you two! We got a lot of catching up to do!” Fiddleford says, ushering you into the massive home with his arm before closing the door.
737 notes · View notes
yandere--stuck · 3 months ago
Note
would u ever write more for stanley.. its so dry out here.. stanation is suffering in a drought……….
You're so right, I'm so sorry, Stanation!!!!
---
💰 Stanley's obsession for you manifests into rocketing between pitiful internal justification for his possessive feelings for you and deep, deep self-loathing and disgust with himself while trying to distance himself from you. Oh, and who could forget, Stanley allowing himself to indulge in fantasies of you returning his feelings and living out happily ever after together. Ha, like that'll ever happen! … But, a man can dream, can't he? Just nice, sappy, romantic stuff, you know? Cuddling together in bed, making the kids breakfast with sleep still in both your eyes, watching the sunset together on the porch, and scaring off any lousy creep that tries to take what's his with one of his many guns. In fact, he may already be doing that last one.
🎲 Talks a big game and acts like a tough guy around you, but it couldn't be further from the truth - at least when it comes to you. In reality, when Stan's around you, he feels one second away from breaking and acting like a lovesick puppy. He feels like a kid with a crush! He hasn't felt this way since he was a young man! It'd be embarrassing if it, if you, didn't make him so happy. He just feels lucky he hasn't turned into a babbling, blushing idiot in front of you or the kids. That's for when your backs are turned. There have been some close calls, though. Like the time he got so lost in listening to you speak that he hadn't realized he'd started resting the side of his face on his hand while staring at you, hearts practically in his eyes. The moment he realized, he'd run off from you with a shout of, “Nonspecific excuse!”
💰 Stan is a bit of a collector, and that certainly doesn't stop with you. He loves snatching little keepsakes from you. Nothing you'd miss, or nothing you'd miss for long. Discarded doodles, forgotten gloves, change that had fallen to the floor unnoticed, and occasionally, your phone, to make sure he didn't have a competition. Everything he keeps goes into his study. He also likes swiping your unfinished snacks or drinks and finishing them himself - he thinks of it as an indirect kiss (yeah, he's gross, what of it?) And it's hard to admit even to himself, but he gets a certain thrill whenever he snaps a candid shot of you from one of the polaroid he swiped from stock for “store use.” That's not all, though! He goes through security camera footage and rifles through it for cute videos of you - ah, but hey, you're always cute, aren't you? He saves them all and watches them religiously. He also may secretly go through Mabel's scrapbook to find pictures of you and make copies of them for his own personal collection, always making sure it gets returned to Mabel seemingly untouched. It's probably the most organized collection he has! And, of course, he's put a framed picture of you right beside the one of Mabel and Dipper in the laboratory downstairs. It makes Stan think of an imagined, impossible world where you and he raise the two together. Your own little family.
🎲 Another fantasy he indulges in is drugging you up and keeping you hidden in the laboratory. It'd be so easy. You're so trusting of him when you really shouldn't be, when he doesn't deserve to be. It'd be so easy to steal you away all for himself. Gravity Falls is a weird town. Strange things happen, and they either go unremembered or unspoken. Sure, you'd be missed, but it's not like the police force in town would get very far. Heck, he'd put more faith in his grand-niblings cracking the case than Blubs and Durland! And, well, you stole his heart first. It's only fair. And Stan would take such good care of you, he knows it! He'd keep you all nice and drugged up. Maybe you'd be euphoric and clingy, or your brain too foggy to escape or do much for yourself, or maybe he'd give you something so that you're too sick to even consider leaving for the hospital lest your condition worsen any further. You'd need him. That's all he'd ever want.
💰 Stan is very protective of you. He tries not to be so obvious, but his temper had such a short fuse when it came to you. You were just so sweet, so nice, even to a scumbag like him! You were so good with the kids, always such a help around the shack, even going so far as to visit on your day off just because you liked the Pines’ company. Liked his company. I mean, how the hell could anyone think they're good enough for you? Nah, nah, nah, he's not letting any mouth-breathing idiots in this town try to make moves on you just because they're too stupid to realize you're outta their league! And if he even thinks he hears someone a bad word about you, he'll be up in their face, cussing them out and making threats (as well as very rude hand gestures.) It's embarrassing for him afterwards, though. He doesn't want to think he's losing control and becoming more obvious, but with how Mabel claims it was ‘so sweet’ of him to be so protective of you, he can't help but worry.
🎲 Stan gradually becomes more physically affectionate with you. “Accidentally” brushing his hands against yours, leaving a hand on your shoulder or arm for a bit too long, nearly embarrassing himself by wrapping you up in a hug in front of everyone. He just can't help it! He's… He's in love! He's in love with you, and he wants to be with you. You make him happy just by being near him. You make his life better just by being in it. He wants to hold you, hug you, kiss you, be with you, and keep you with him forever. But, Stan also knows he can't. You'd never agree to it, surely. No matter how much Stan wants to think otherwise. Old bastard like him, he wasn't good enough for you - but then again, he thought no one was. But he could take comfort in you just being near him (if you ever tried to leave, he doesn't know what he'd do…) That way, at least, he couldn't screw anything up. That's all he'd do, anyway. It'd fail, just like all of his other relationships and all because of him. He should know better. He should know that he's a fuckup, that he destroys everything he touches, and that everyone he's ever known has suffered because of him. He just… He just wishes he could be closer. He knows he's not good enough for you to love him or need him and that he never will be, but God, does he wish he was.
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stanswifeirl · 2 months ago
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polaroids.
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notes: HEADCANONS & A DRABBLE! inspired by a tiktok post of mine. cross-posted on ao3!!
contains: stanley pines x gn!reader
warning: he's taking your picture and FREAKING it, fucking freak style but only for one second, swearing
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POST-FUCK :
stan gets a kick out of taking pictures of you, laying under him, looking like a total wreck.
polaroids, usually.
at first, you regarded it as a one time thing: stan looking down at you, sweaty, fumbling with something on the bedside table... there was a flash. your brain was pretty foggy, but you were able to tell it was pretty hot by the way you instinctually smiled
whatever. you didn't care to give it a second thought. but stan. oh man. he was diggin' it.
you tried to get up and start cleaning yourself off.
"Woah, hold your horses there, toots." Stan's gruff voice filled the quiet space the camera shutter sound had momentarily filled, his hand holding your waist, firmly. "Jus'. Gimme a second."
In the other hand, he held your little photograph. His face lit up as he inspected it— his eyes trailed up from the space in between your legs, up your stomach and chest, and finally to your face. He shifts in place, suddenly feeling a stiffness in between his legs... He was exhausted, sure, but his cock sure wasn't!
He says your name, quickly, looking back down at you.
"Can I take another?"
You nod your head, dumbly. After everything he did for you, it was a no-brainer to let him knock himself out while you relaxed on his stiff mattress.
Well, more like, took a breather. Almost immediately after you gave him the "OK!", he spreads your legs apart, snapping a photo. Then another. His fingers spread across your body, poking and prodding. He takes another. Little polaroid pictures pool in-between the two of you.
"That's it. Just like that, honey." He chuckles under his breath, running a hand over your chest, looking at you with half-lidded eyes. "Give me a sexy face."
He bites his lip, groping you softly, before taking another picture. Your back arches ever so slightly under his touch, and you're sure he caught you with your eyes rolling back.
he pulls you closer to him, sliding his dick inside of you. he takes another picture of your reaction.
soon enough, he runs out of film. damn!
he tends to forget a LOT of things that need to be done around the shack, but you best believe he doesn't forget to restock his polaroid!
by noon the next day, stan struts into the shack with a shopping bag in hand, making goo-goo eyes at you while he proudly presents a fresh box
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multi-fandom-imagine · 3 months ago
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I was wondering if you could write Stanley doing things to the reader (freaky things 😈) in the back of El Diablo (his car) because ik in my heart that he would and if he and the reader could already be in an established relationship that would be great too like a “trying to rekindle our flame but the kids are in the house and we don’t want to scar them” type of plot. anyway, I love your content 🫶🏾 have a good night /day
A/n: hehehe
Warnings: Fingering, humping, fucking in Stan's shitty car on the side of the road, dirty talk, age gap { reader can be in late 20's - late 30's }
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Your face was pressed tightly into Stan's neck, your fingers clutching his shirt as you grounded your hips against his knee, his hand guiding you. You mind fogged as you mentally thanked Stan for pulling his shitty car on the side of the road near the woods since the last thing on your mind was someone catching you two.
A deep chuckle escaping the man's lips, glasses nearly slipping off the bridge of his nose as he watched you.“Fuck, Angel." Stan breathes out as his eyes darkened with desire. He could feel your panties dampen on his knee. His hand slipping under your skirt, grasping your panties he tugged them down in one quick motion.
"Stan...just fucking touch me already. Don't tell me your age is catching up with you." You teased.
“Fucking hell, you're a little minx aren't you,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky with need as the smirk remained on his lips “though I can I deny you" Stan bit back a swear as he fixed the car seat, spreading his legs to be better positioned between your legs, his fingers teasingly trailing along your inner thighs before finally slipping between your slick folds. He starts to rub slow circles against your clit, his touch nearly sending you over the edge.
“You’re so wet for me, Angel,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. “You’re always ready for my touch, aren’t you? So fuckin needy." His fingers slide lower, pressing against your entrance and slowly easing inside you, curling and stroking in just the right way to make you tremble with pleasure.
Stan watches you intently, his eyes filled with hunger as he guides you towards the edge of bliss. “Ride my fingers, baby,” he urges, his voice a low growl. “Let me get you ready for what’s to come.”
"Stanley." Your voice sharp as your hips jerked, nails digging into his shoulders. Tremors leaving your body as your orgasm hit you.
God he loved when you called out his name, to think, a sexy woman like yourself calling out his name. It was the hottest thing.
Stan smirks as he watches you unravel in pleasure, your body trembling with the force of your orgasm. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his fingers still buried deep inside you as he revels in the way you cling to him.
“Such a good girl, Angel,” he murmurs, his tone laced with satisfaction. “But don’t worry, baby,I got you.” With a swift motion, he withdraws his fingers from your dripping core, a low groan escaping his lips at the loss, he couldn't wait to feel you wrapped around his cock.
Without hesitation, Stan lifted his hips up, quickly pushing his pants and boxers down to reveal his thick, pulsing cock. He positions himself between your legs once more, the head of his length teasing your entrance.
“Gonna rock this car, no one is gonna know that I'm fuckin ya” he taunts, his eyes locked with yours as he slowly pushes into you, inch by inch. The sensation of being completely filled by him sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but arch your back in pleasure.
Stan begins to move, his thrusts steady and deep, each one driving you closer to the edge once again. “You’re mine, Angel,” he growls, his hands gripping your hips firmly. “And I’m gonna give you everything you need.”
He had to bite back a groan as he felt your tight walls clenching around him, the sensation driving him wild with desire. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he continues to thrust deeply into you, his movements becoming more urgent and primal.
He couldn't even register the fact that his car was shaking with each of his thrusts.
“Fuck, Angel,” he breathes out, his voice strained with pleasure. “You feel so good, so tight around me.” Stan buries his face in your hair, inhaling your scent as he sets a relentless pace, each thrust pushing you both closer to the edge.
His hands roam over your body, finding all the right places to touch and tease. He nibbles at your neck and collarbone, leaving marks of possession as he claims you as his own.
“You’re mine, Angel,” he growls, his voice husky with need. “All mine. Nobody else can make you feel like this, can they?” Stan's thrusts become more erratic, his hips driving into you with a primal intensity as he chases his own release, determined to bring you to the peak of ecstasy once again.
Your whimpers only fuel his passion, spurring him on to take you higher and higher.
"You feel so good, so tight around me.”
With a guttural groan, Stan picks up the pace, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. He can feel the coil of pleasure tightening in his belly, signaling that he’s nearing the edge. “I’m gonna fill you up, baby,” he grunts, his hips snapping against yours. “You’re mine, all mine.”
With one final, powerful thrust, Stan finds his release, spilling himself deep inside you as he claims you as his own.The creaking sound of the car slowing to a stop, windows fogged as he felt his dick still twitching within you.
The heat of your bodies mingling in a passionate embrace. He holds you close, his heart racing as he revels in the intimacy of the moment.
“Fuck, Angel, you’re amazing,” he gasps as he did his best to catch his breath. His heart was pounding in his chest as a little giggle escaped your lips as you placed a lazy kiss to his lip.
Breathless and satisfied, he holds you close, pressing soft kisses to your skin as he catches his breath. “You’re so perfect, Angel,” he whispers, his voice filled with adoration. “I’ll always take care of you, make you feel this good.”
Humming, still clinging to the man you cupped his cheeks drawing him in for another kiss. "And I'll take care of you to Stan...I love you."
"I don't get how someone as wonderful as you could ever love me, but I sure as hell ain't letting you go, I love ya far too much."
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