#ford x reader

[sleeplessdreamer14]

If you honestly think Ford didn't keep a photograph of you on his person during his time in the multiverse like a soldier keeping a locket with a picture of their lover during a war, think again.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Please, write something about facesitting with Stan and Ford, cuz with those giant noses I know its good.

A/n: 👀

Warnings: Oral sex, female receiving.

•Stanly Pines•

Stan love's nothing more than to eat you out though the moment you let it slip that you want to try something knew the man tease's how can he ever go back.

You're adorable, so adorable,

Stan can't help but smirk at your shy request, feeling his cock twitch in anticipation. He loves when you take control like that, it’s so damn hot.

"Anything, for you angel, though who knew you were such a naughty one."

He purrs, gently guiding you to straddle his face. His strong hands grip your hips as he eagerly starts to devour you, his tongue expertly exploring every inch of your dripping pussy.

Your cries only fueling his own desire as you tried to move, Stan's hands clutching preventing your movement as he held your hips tightly.

He moans softly against your folds, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. Stan's fingers dig into your skin as he worships you, determined to make you feel good. He loves the taste of you, the way you squirm and moan above him only fueling his desire.

You can feel his hot breath against your sensitive skin, his tongue flicking and teasing your clit with expert precision.

Stan's hands roam up your body, squeezing your breasts and teasing your nipples as he continues to eat you out with fervor. He’s completely focused on giving you pleasure, lost in the moment as he worships you like the goddess you are.

“Mmm, you taste so fucking good, baby,”

Stan groans, his voice thick with desire. He’s completely under your control, eager to please you in any way you desire. His cock strains against his jeans, desperate for release, but right now all he cares about is making you feel good.

•Standord Pines•

It all started in High School for Ford, he was tutoring you well doing his best as you complained about your boyfriend refusing to eat out which lead to you dumping him. You didn't know why you told him, maybe it was because you had a soft for him a crush and you were hoping that he would notice your feelings despite you being popular.

Though it didn't take long for you to try it, neither of you had experience and looking back on it, you couldn't help but chuckle at your first time with Ford though that night lead down the road of your experience with your six fingered lover.

Ford had gotten better, more experienced with sex when it came to you. One particular memory came to mind, you two were running from some asshole on some planet and one thing lead to another as the man had you pinned to the wall. Bottom's gone, panties hanging off your ankle as your legs draped themselves across your lovers shoulders.

You head hitting the wall as your eyes closed shut as your fingers wove through his hair. "That prick in the bar said he could eat me out better?" You had a teasing tone to your voice but you wanted to see Ford's reaction.

Ford's eyes darken with possessiveness and desire as he hears your words, as his glasses nearly slip off his face . His hand tightens on your waist as he adjusted your legs so you were more comfortable

“Like that bastard knows you like I do! I am going to show you what it’s like to be worshipped properly,” his voiced muffled by your thigh, his breath hot against your skin. The hunger in his eyes is undeniable as he eagerly waits for you to take control and give him what he craves.

Ford groans softly as you settle on his face, feeling the warmth and weight of you on him. His hands grip your hips firmly, guiding you into the perfect position as his tongue eagerly darts out to taste you. He moans in delight, the vibrations sending shivers through you as he starts to worship you like you deserve.

His tongue explores every inch of you, licking and sucking with skill and precision. He's relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure, making sure you feel nothing but bliss under his ministrations. The sounds of your moans and gasps only fuel his desire, and he's determined to make you unravel completely with his touch.

Your fingers gripping his hair, tugging at the silver strands, your eyes squeezing tightly shut.

He devours you with a hunger that matches his possessiveness, wanting to show you just how good it can be when you're with someone who truly cherishes you. And in this moment, with you on top of him, he's proving just how much he adores you. He may no longer be that fumbling teenager but Ford loves you and he'll always make sure you know.

[stansangel]

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.

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.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

˚⋆｡ thinking about Ford who. . .✧˚ (x fem!reader)

minors don’t interact

Who can’t help himself.

His mind never really stops working, even when he’s inside you, moving so slow that has you writhing beneath him. His cock buried inside you, stretching you out inch by inch, but even now, his thoughts are somewhere between the galaxies and the stars. His cock pulses inside you, making you feel so good, but it’s not enough and yet he's still talking about the fabric of the universe. 

“You know. . . mmm, parallel dimensions have an infinite number of variables, but if you—" his breath hitches as he rolls his hips deeper, forcing your body to arch. “if you narrow them to specific constants you find— hahh, patterns.” little moan escapes your lips, needy, as his cock drags slowly against your walls.

His voice is calm, even steady despite the unhurried, delicious way he's fucking you, but you're barely listening. How could you? Every thrust has your mind blanking, leaving nothing but pleasure pooling low in your belly. Your nails digging into his back, you feel so abandoned each time he pulls out, only to have him slide back in with agonizing precision.

"Forddd. . .” you moan, head falling back into the pillow, begging for more, for faster. But his rhythm is controlled, measured, its like he’s savouring the way your cunt grips him, tight and so damn warm as he’s balls deep inside you.

“Dimensional travel. . . it’s not just theoretical, you see,” Ford’s voice is calm, as if he’s lecturing a class and not thrusting into your slick, dripping pussy, as if you’re not clenching around him so tight it’s driving you both insane. “If we can manipulate space-time— like this. . .” he punctuates his words with a deep thrust, his cock dragging against your soft walls in a way that makes your whole body shake. “we can alter outcomes. Mm, t-that means every choice you make branches into— fuck, you’re tight— into infinite possibilities.”

You can hardly breathe, can barely think because of the pressure building between your legs and he’s still talking. God, he’s still talking. You hear him, even if barely, something about gravitational fields and parallel worlds, but it’s all turning into a blur with your eyes rolling in the back of your head when he hits that sweet spot inside again and again.

“You like it when I explain things to you,” Ford claims. “It turns you on, doesn’t it?”

You can’t even find the words to respond, because yes, you love it and fuck, you hate that you love it. All you can do is mewl and whimper, your hips rolling against him in a futile attempt to make him pick up the pace. He knows, god, he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“Ford, please—!” his cock slides deeper, but that serious, calm tone, fuck, it’s driving you wild. You want him to stop talking, to focus, to pound into you like you need, but his voice just keeps spilling from his lips like honey. Your head rolls back, lips parting in pathetic little gasps and moans, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. You can’t take it anymore, he’s teasing you, playing with you, dragging it out just to see how far he can push you before you break. “please, faster!” you plead, desperate for more, desperate for him to stop talking and just fuck you properly, hard and fast. But he’s still so calm, still so fucking unflappable. 

“Oh? you’re getting impatient?” Ford’s hand slides down your trembling thigh, lifting it higher, opening you up even more to him. “You wanted to learn about interdimensional physics, didn’t you?” he mumbles under his breath as he grinds into you, his cock plunging deeper, completely filling you and it feels like a dream for both of you. “I’m just giving you what you wanted.”

His fingers find your needy clit, rubbing in torturous circles as he continues that slow rhythm inside you. He’s barely breaking a sweat, his brow furrowed in concentration as if this is just another experiment to him meanwhile you’re such a mess under him. His cock twitches inside you as he changes angle again, deeper now and he takes a sharp breath, but he doesn’t stop talking. 

He doesn’t stop and you hate him.

Ford’s eyes roam over your trembling body, reveling in the sight of you, desperate and needy. Your eyes watery and mouth open in a breathless moan.

“The fascinating thing about dimensional shifts— god, you feel so good,” he trails off for a moment, and you think, finally, he’s losing focus. You roll your hips against his, hoping to break his composure. But instead of faltering, he chuckles, leaning down only to plant a small kiss on your lips. “you’re trying to distract me, aren’t you?”

“Fuck, p-pleasee!” you whine, spreading your legs wider, trying to press up against him, but he pins you down.

“Clever girl,” he mutters, voice rougher now, losing some of that composed edge as he looks at you, the desperate need written all over your cute face. “letting me teach you like this.”

He pulls out, almost completely, leaving you aching, empty, before slamming back into you hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs. "That’s my girl." his words make you cry out his name over and over again, your nails digging into his back as he starts to fuck you better, properly, his pace quicker, rougher now, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress.

He’s no longer focused on explaining the mysteries of the universe, he’s focused on you, on how your body responds to him, on how good it feels to have you wrapped around him, hot and wet and perfect, on how your wetness and slick coating his length. The sounds of skin slapping against skin fills the air, mixing with your desperate, needy moans and his groans when he finally fucks you the way you wanted, he ruts into you faster, harder, and it’s everything you needed, everything you craved. 

“Ford— oh fuck,” you cry out, head thrown back and he’s there, finally losing himself in the way your cunt clenching around him, making such wet squelching sounds, he’s lost in the way you’re moaning his name, voice so beautiful. You’re nearly drooling as you give him a silly smile, begging him to finish inside you.

“Cum for me,” he growls, his hand sliding down, thumb finding your clit and pressing down in fast circles what makes your head spin. “I want to feel you— cum for me, now.” you arch your back as the orgasm crashes through you, you walls flutter around him, the sensations are so intense you can’t even scream, only shake and try to cross your legs because pleasure is fucking overwhelming, though Ford never stops thrusting into your wetness. You’re trembling, mind blank as you cling onto him, holding him, feeling him.

Ford groans at the beautiful sight, his clever girl looks so pretty when she’s dumb fucked and cock drunk. However Ford is lost in pleasure too, your pussy feels so warm, so tight and good he just can’t stop fucking you. But he’s damn close. He grits his teeth, taking a deep breath, thrusting into you so hard, burying himself so fucking deep, his cock twitching as he spills into you, filling you up with every last drop. Finally, finally. He’s breathing heavily into your lips, glasses fogged, his chest heaving. You just lay there, taking it like a good girl you are.

Ford can’t stop looking at you, he kisses your forehead, softly and gentle. “Now. . . where were we? Ah, yes. Dimensional theory.”

You can’t help but laugh, head still spinning as he pulls you close, already starting to ramble again about parallel worlds and universal constants, like he wasn’t just inside you, fucking you senseless.

And honestly you wouldn’t have him any other way.

[sunniskyies]

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 || 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐧𝐞-𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: - 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Reader forgets she has Ford’s mind reading device on… 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Ford Pines x fem!shy!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: - 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Makeout, fluffy shy stuff 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k 𝐀/𝐍: This is so so so out of my league with this kind of thing, but I had a vision and had to try, so forgive me if it’s not the best !! ( you can read this as young or old Ford by the way ! )

“Are you going to tell me what exactly that is?” You ask shyly, perched neatly on a wooden stool in the deepest room of Ford’s laboratory. The man in question is bustling around the benches, plugging in wires and fiddling with dials and buttons.

“It’s a mental-strengthening device, able to encrypt one’s thoughts to prevent dream demons like Bill Cipher from entering.”

You purse your lips. “Ah. Of course.”

Ford looks briefly over at you while he tinkers. “I don’t want any chance of that creature making his way into our world. The damage he causes is… irrevocable.”

You fall silent, quietly studying the scientist’s practised hands and that little furrow in his brow you doubt he’s aware of. You see it often, in your stolen glances as you set his coffee down in the mornings, or when his eyes linger for a moment on his work when you call for his attention.

You let yourself sit in the warm feeling that spreads through your skin, toying with the fantasy of him for just a moment. Before you know it, Ford is approaching you with a gadget in his hands, and you’re pushing those silly thoughts from your mind.

“This is the receiver,” Ford explains, gesturing to the sieve-like helmet in his hands. “May I put it on you?”

All you manage is a ‘mhm’, and you hope your ears aren’t bright red when Ford places the bronze contraption over your hair. As he adjusts it here and there his fingers often brush your skin, you’re mortified as goosebumps shiver over your skin. Luckily, from what you know about Stanford Pines, he isn’t the most observant man unless you happen to have three eyes or an off-on switch.

Being Ford’s assistant has been the best opportunity of your life, but childishly you often wish for something more. To see those lips say your name not just to thank you for your helping hands. To have the confidence to show Ford the book of research you’ve been privately gathering, his eyes catching yours as he realises the potential he’d never seen in you before…

For the millionth time reality pulls you from your daydreams. Ford crouches down slightly, your faces level, your eyes on his while his are at your hairline. A six-fingered hand gently tucks loose strands back from your face.

“There,” he says, eyes catching yours. “Equipped. How does that feel?”

You swallow, voice a tad too squeaky, “All good!” 

“Perfect. I’ll begin the calibration, inform me if you experience any discomfort,” he nods, satisfied, before sweeping away again.

As you wait, you silently tap on your knees, looking around. You look over the table behind you to see a television screen with—

Your thoughts.

A string of your most embarrassing ideas visualised on a ceiling-high collection of screens, unarguably clingy and desperate desires paired with Ford’s name scrolling everywhere.

You whip your gaze over to Ford, dew already appearing over your skin. He seems to be engrossed in whatever's in his hands, but it’s only a matter of time before he sees all… that!

Fuck, fuck, fuck! The screens mirror the chant in your mind.

You try vainly to think of other things, random words and imagery slowly but surely creeping onto the televisions. Polar Bears. Adjectives. Pencils, pens, markers. Dates and historical impact of various civil wars. Charity raffles. That one catchy jingle. Discombobulation. Ambystoma mexicanum.

Ford looks up. “Finished!” He says with a quick smile.

You quietly clear your throat. “Uhm. Wow! This is very clever, Ford, although I must admit didn’t realise it displayed the user's consciousness?”

His eyebrows raise at your question, before his face softly twists with confusion as he stares at the reading. He glances back over at you with the face of someone just realising how stupid something is. Yet, you almost slump with relief. At least he only thinks you're simple, not a freak.

“Well, yes, it does. Did I not mention that?” He says slowly. “I was going to suggest you exercise your brain to ensure the program reaches every aspect of your cognition… but it seems you’re… already… doing that?” He questions hesitantly. Your smile is too-bright.

“Oh, yes, that is what I am doing. Yep.” You squeak.

“Right.”

The silence is palpable, a thick sludge that clings to your form. Sometimes both your wandering stares slide over each other, awkward blips before you both avert eye contact. You hear the hum of machinery, the soft tap of your shoe on the floor. Your fingers itch to grab your journal from your pocket to give yourself something to do with your hands, but you’re embarrassed at what Ford would see as you ponder over it. The silence stretches on and on, until you can’t bear not to break it.

“So, you, uhm, said something about exercising the mind?” You blurt sheepishly.

Ford’s eyes are immediately on you. “Yes! Yes, just try to keep your mind active, it helps the protection process.”

And the silence is back. Perhaps even worse than before.

Desperate for relief, you pull your journal from your pocket. You wave it weakly, “Mind if I do some work?”

Ford adjusts his glasses. “No, no of course not. Go ahead.” He gestures at the various desks stationed around the room. You shoot him a quick smile and spin on your stool to the table next to you, propping open the journal and continuing an essay you plan to submit as a paper in your current university course.

This works, taking your mind off your vulnerability as you focus on your work. This is what you love about science, about academia, the ability to lose yourself in something so complex, so worthwhile. You really can’t wait to get your research out there and make a name for yourself.

You write for a while, pen often times balanced between teeth. You don’t quite register Ford coming up behind you until his tilted head is in your peripheral.

“Fantastic,” he mutters absently, his face well and truly absorbed on the open page. Embarrassed, you half-heartedly cover the page with your hands.

“Oh, no, it’s really not anything special.” You mumble, eyes averted. 

“No, really, I love it. You’re studying quantum physics, right?” He insists, head tilted trying to catch his eye. When you do, he has a soft smile painted on. Your cheeks glow pink.

“Yes, I major in quantum physics and forensic science. I minor in biomedical engineering, and I’m additionally doing an online paper on parapsychology with the only university that does it, in, uh, Finland.” The sparkle in Ford’s eyes grows as you timidly recite your areas of study.

“Parapsychology? That’s brilliant!” He remarked, awed. “Why didn’t you say that, I would love to take you out on my field days. I study all sorts of paranormal and supernatural activity here. It'd be great to share it with someone.”

“Oh, I don’t want to trouble you,” you say hushed, fending off a stammer. Internally, your heart is soaring. Yes yes yes!

“It’d be no trouble,” he says earnestly, soft features returned as if coaxing you out of your shell. “I knew you were smart, but I had no idea the extent,’ he says, almost to himself.

Your eyes lock on him immediately. “You think that?”

He seems surprised. “Of course I do. You’re an exceptional assistant, and you’ve been in study for ages. I’ve heard nothing less than great things about when I send my own work to our local university. Not many scholars live out here, you know?”

You can’t drag your eyes away from him, and you're sure Ford can see every star in the galaxy swirling in your pupils right now. This is everything, everything you’ve wanted.

You’re not sure whether it’s the surge of confidence, or the way Ford’s looking so gently at you, but you’re acutely aware of how low Ford has bent down to talk to you. It would only take a small movement to bring your faces together.

And so, heart fluttering with this moment of bravery, you rise slightly up on the balls of your feet and press a small kiss to Ford’s cheek.

“Thank you,” you breathe, the sensation in your chest borderline sickening. “It, uh, means a lot.”

Ford doesn’t say a word, eyes wide but painfully unreadable. The silence is once again, stifling.

“Not a lot of fellow scientists in this area, like you said,” You hastily ramble on after a long moment. The gap doesn’t last this time, though.

In a swift motion Ford’s hand is at your cheek. You barely have time to inhale before his lips are on yours, their warmth sinking against your mouth.

You’d never imagined them to be so firm, although his proximity doesn’t give your mind any room to think about anything. It’s all happening so fast, your mind dizzied as you reciprocate his intentful kisses.

Your pen clatters slightly on the table as your hand releases it, quickly gripping to Ford as his arms snake around you and lift you up. He spins, setting you on the table in the middle of the room. You’re sure at some point you have or will let slip an embarrassing sound, but you’re wholly focused on Ford and how you’re sitting at his level on the tall table; him standing before you with his hands at your waist. Your knees brush either side of his thighs.

Your hands bury themselves in his hair, his hands in turn pull you closer. It’s eager and messy, making your pulse thud wildly. You never thought a man would want you like this, never catching an eye. Let alone the genius that is—

Abruptly, his lips leave yours, the emptiness not lasting long as they move just beneath your lip, then down to your jaw. They trail down to the side of your neck, lips brushing over the shiver on your skin. Small breaths leave your mouth when you feel a glimmer of teeth against your collarbone.

You tilt your head, resting against his where he’s kissing your shoulder in the crook of your neck. Your hands remain tangled in his hair, your eyes closed.

Your bodies are so close together, his lips are all-consuming. It’s bliss. The man you’ve loved for so long, holding you like he’s besotted. Like he’s just as infatuated as you. The thought thrills through your mind; He wants me.

“I can assure you, I most certainly do,” Ford murmurs breathlessly against your skin. You pause, the statement uncannily sounding like a response to your thought…

Oh. Oh no.

The machine. The mind reading. The television directly behind your back.

You haltingly turn your head, face pale. The screen is, in fact, still reciting your thoughts. Every thought. And Ford’s facing it.

“Oh my god,” You groan, palming your forehead. You sink into yourself, drowning in humiliation. But Ford’s hand fishes beneath your chin, tipping your glowing face to look at him. His face is one of endless kindness beneath his mussed hair.

“It’s really not a bad thing, sweetness.” He says gently. You shake your head slightly, eyes squeezing shut.

His thumb creeps up the side of your face, face dipping level to yours. “No, seriously. It’s a very encouraging thing for a man to see.” He jokes warmly. You peek an eye open. Heavens, did he have to look so irresistibly handsome all the time?

“Should I, uhm, remove…” you gesture at the contraption atop your head, teeth worrying your lip.

Ford hesitates for a moment, thinking as his thumb strokes your cheek. “No. No, it’s too important. I can’t have Bill infiltrating your mind.” 

You wilt slightly, but Ford once again brings you back to him. “It’ll only take a moment. Half an hour at most.” His eyes flicker fleetingly at your lips. “And besides, it’ll be sunset by then. I hear you can see a meteor shower tonight? If you drive up the hill a little.”

You hum a soft confirmation, smile melting onto your flushed features as Ford presses a last kiss to your cheek. “Good,” He murmurs. “I’ll go fetch the coats.”

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @sleeplessdreamer14 @2hiigh2cry @taffycandyqt @papi-machucha @muffin1304

 @space1crow @fries11 @yasuuuudere @shadowsandswords @darling-eos

@bloodspatteredprincess @snake-in-a-flower-crown @defmxl @ryanthatsgay2

© sunniskyies 2024, do not repost or translate my work

[miltonthoughts]

I had this thought about Stanford on my mind, so I'm going to ramble on.

Imagine Ford experiencing some form of separation anxiety because he's been missing you for 30 years after being trapped in many dimensions. HEAR ME OUT:

He wraps his arm around you when you accompany him on missions, afraid that he'll lose you again. HE ALSO DOES THIS WHEN HE'S SLEEPING. THE MAN WILL WRAP HIS ARMS AROUND YOU WHEN HE SLEEPS, SCARED THAT YOU'LL BE GONE THE SECOND HE WAKES UP.

You always have to reassure him that you won’t disappear countless times whenever you leave the shack to do your things.

Of course, he does soon recover from this, but he still worries a little when you're gone for a while.

(This can also be reversed, I can see both happening.)

[magicalbunbun]

Reverse falls stanford x y/n

Annnd thers relationship:

Maybe y/n still loves him? She have mix up feelings.

[whatt-the]

A little birdie told me you wanted to kiss mista Stanford Pines

Don't go overboard with it

Or just don't listen to me, ya know, get em breathless

[wisteriaiswriting]

Reader That Can Bake

Words: 1757

Includes: Dipper, Mabel, Stan, Ford, Wendy, Gideon, Pacifica and Bill

Honestly, he doesn’t have the biggest sweet tooth, but being young he still craves them a bit.

Knows the basics about baking in general but only with box sets, so he’ll stay out of your way in the kitchen.

Won't ever decline anything you give him, opting to either eat them right then and there, or hide them for later. (And away, safe from Mabel.)

Normally whenever he heard the sounds of someone in the kitchen, assuming it was Mabel, he would walk the other way immediately. But now that you’re spending more time in there he’ll take the gamble of peeking in, hoping it was you baking and not Mabel ready to drag him in.

This time he was lucky, finding you washing up all your used dishes and putting away the leftover ingredients. Standing in the doorway until you noticed, waving him over. “Dipper, you’re just in time!” Hopping on the spot as you stepped out of the way, revealing a whole bunch of cooled cookies.

“I tried some different flavours this time,” Grabbing one of each to shove into his hands, which he almost dropped. “There's classic chocolate chip, white chocolate, uhh… What else?” As you rambled and thought he took a bite of each, silently ranking them favourite to least favourite, not that he’d ever tell you.

“And oh! Hazelnuts, oreos and s'mores!” “You made s’more cookies?” “Yeah, this one was a small batch, I’ll get more stuff tomorrow.”

While yes, she bakes pretty often, you’ll always be the better chef around! (And she’s not afraid to admit it, sometimes.)

This girl will never shut up about ‘How good these are!’ ‘Even Waddles loves them!’ (It’s true, you have found him scarfing down a whole pile of your baked goods.)

Occasionally (And if you let her) she’ll join you, while she enjoys baking just spending time together is enough for her.

As soon as the door opened Mabel ran off, skidding into the doorframe. Smelling something very familiar and delicious. “ARE YOU BAKING AGAIN!” Your only response was to laugh, of course she would notice, really, you’d be an idiot thinking she wouldn’t.

“Yeah, they’re in the oven right now, so I’m just cleaning up.” “I’LL HELP!” God, she was excited about your baking. “Why don’t you pile up the dirty dishes while I start the sink.” In no time you had finished the dishes, everything was clean, dried and put away.

Reaching for a hanging cabinet, but this one was just out of reach. Stretching to your limit but unable to grasp the handle, about to turn around and ask Mabel for help only to be jolted upwards. Looking down to find Mabel's toothy grin looking right back atcha.

“Whatcha grabbing? More dishes? Decorations? Is it the icing? SPRINKLES!?” Laughing once again as you grabbed, as you could guess (And Mabel.) the icing and sprinkles. Being dropped back down when you had the items. “I think they’re ready for the toppings.”

Stan doesn’t go around flaunting his love for baked goods, but he doesn’t really hide it either.

But he does openly compliment anything you make, even if it’s not his favourite, he’ll make it positive.

He may not like to spend a lot of money on anything really, but he’ll throw you a wad of cash to buy whatever you need. (As long as he gets the first taste test.)

“Where ya going toots?” Arms wrapped around your waist, his head sitting on your head. One of your hands held your car keys, well, they were Stans but he’s given you permission to take the ‘Stanmobile’ out. “Gotta buy some more ingredients.”

His body pulled away from yours, hands digging into his suit pockets before pulling out a decent wad of cash. Grabbing a few notes (Which were 100s btw) and passing them over to you, “Make me my favourite later.” “Oh I will~”

He’ll scarf down plates full of your stuff, he hasn’t eaten anything this good in years! (And no he is not exaggerating, thank you!)

Always takes something with him on every adventure he goes on. (At first he was nervous to ask, but now he’ll try to ‘bribe’ you for anything. (Both of you know he doesn’t need to.))

Part of him is curious about how well supernatural ingredients would go, he would never force you to do it, but that means he would. So at least watch over him. (But by gods, don’t let him eat anything he makes. Who knows what would happen, and you don’t want to know.)

Hearing the front door slam open you peeked out of the living room, only to find Ford stumbling by, into the kitchen with a large box. After gently shutting the door (With this amount of abuse you don’t think it’ll last much longer.) you followed him, watching him pull and lay out plenty of things on the counter.

“Hope you were going to clean up after yourself?” “AH!” Throwing something between his hands for a few seconds before calming down, “Oh! Y/N, I was, don't you worry.” “With everything you brought in here? I will.”

Quietly laughing to himself, “I don’t blame you, but how well would these bake?” “Ford, honey, I just bake, you’re the one who knows about these guys.” Gesturing to the box, “I guess you’re right.”

Very similar to Stan in the sense, she won’t go out of her way to admit her love for sweeter things but will if asked.

If you’re willing to make more she’ll take a bunch for her friends. (They all love them, even if some won’t admit it.)

Brings some to work with her, which makes her shifts actually bearable.

“I’ll see you guys later.” Lifting her hand as a quick wave before turning to leave, “Wendy!” Looking back to find Lee rushing towards her, skidding to stop just before hitting her. Throwing her a now empty container, which surprisingly enough, was still in one piece. “You gotta bring more of those snacks, they were amazing!”

“I’ll let them know.” Now that she was finally able to leave the group, she started her tract home. Pulling out her phone to send you a quick message, nothing much really. (It was a whole paragraph.) Watching you respond, pause then send the message, along with a picture. ‘Already ahead of you!’

Tapping into the image to find you back in the kitchen, flour covered every surface. There were other ingredients on the floor and everything, really. She couldn’t stop her laughter, taking a pause in her steps to catch her breath. ‘I’m on my way, don’t make a bigger mess.’

Luckily she wasn’t that far from home, and it was also a good thing that her family loved you. (They wouldn’t let you live down that image.) Letting her spend the night to help you clean and finish baking.

Absolutely will not go anywhere near the kitchen when you’re in there. (He may love you, but he also loves being clean.)

This doesn’t stop him from rushing in the second everything is cleaned up, impatiently waiting until the food is finished. (You will have to stop him from eating them hot, because he will whine about being burned.)

Will never share them with anyone else, the only exception is at the Tent of Telepathy.

Placing the hot tray onto a cooling rack before shutting the oven door, it’s been hours since you started baking. As Gideon wanted some baked goods to hand out to anyone who comes by the Tent of Telepathy, and that meant you had to bake it all.

Although he made sure to pay you for it, so it wasn’t a complete loss. But that's when you heard a door slam open and footsteps running down the hall, watching as Gideon entered the room. His first stop was the currently cooling tray of cookies, not the others that were cool and in containers.

“Gideon do–” It was too late, his hand touched the tray first. “OW!” Guiding the hand under some running water as he complained, “Why were they hot?” “I just pulled them out from the oven, those ones,” Pointing at multiple containers put to the side, “Are for you.”

Huffing as he removes his hand from the water to dry it off, grabbing the containers before leaving the room.

Honestly, she never thought about baking in general really. (There’s always been butlers or chefs, or whatever to do it for her.)

Doesn’t have the biggest sweet tooth, but will eat any of your less sweet items. (It better not be messy, otherwise she’ll (lovingly) wipe it on you.)

Sometimes she’ll sit around and watch you bake, she secretly finds it interesting but it’s highly likely she won’t join you for a while.

“What did you make this time?” Even as her face showed disinterest her tone gave her away, “This one is funfetti!” Handing over the cupcake, watching as she made her way through the wrapper. Trying to avoid the icing, although she wasn’t successful, a small chunk smeared over her fingers.

Clearly unhappy with it, the fact you were waiting next to her and no tissues or anything nearby. Reaching over to ‘subtly’ wipe the icing onto your shirt. “HEY!” “These aren’t that bad.” “Don’t ignore me!” You tried to stand in front of her, except that she kept turning as well.

“Pacifica!” “You should probably check on the other ones.” Oh yeah, you probably should.

Sometimes you forget that he can actually eat as he doesn’t do it much. (That’s until you watch him eat some deer teeth. Which is so disturbing…)

There have been so many times where he comes to bother you for some food, then just leaves with it. (You have no clue what he does with them but you can only assume someone else* is eatting them. (*Ford))

He will try to bake on his own with ‘non-human’ ingredients even if you try to stop him. (They end up inedible, even to other demons. Like fuck, he’s terrible.)

It was fucking comical how Bill entered the room, floating through the window towards the tray of cookies. Staying afloat for a few extra seconds before dropping to sit on the counter, batting his eyelashes at you. “No Bill, they’re still hot.” “WHO CARES?” Grabbing a handful (Which was like 2.) before shoving it into his mouth (Eye? Honestly man, you have no idea anymore.). “Are they good at least?” “HMM, THEY'RE ALRIGHT. COULD DO WITH SOME ꀤꈤꁅꌃꀭꀸꈤꍟꊼ.” “What.”

[strawburry01]

She Blinded Me With Science

Summary: You and your college bestie Ford go hunt for the Mothman

AN: 2.6k words, there's some flirty friendship moments

Part 2

Hope you enjoy :)

“Forddddd!” you shouted as you slammed at his unfortunately closed dormitory door, “open up Pines I know you’re in there you haven’t left all day!” you continued as you kept knocking louder.

“For god's sake how do you know that?” his muffled voice came through the door.

“Your desk light has been on all night and all day you dork, I know you’re neurotic about turning that light off!” you huffed as you finally stopped knocking. You heard some shuffling of books and chair legs on the ground as Ford eventually opened the door a crack. For supposedly having the nicest dorms in the east coast, you and Ford were both guilty of turning your respective rooms into chaotic mixes of museum, library, archive, and photo studio, in your case. You could see the precarious stacks of textbooks and notebooks behind Ford’s bespeckled face. He looks like he didn’t sleep last night, evidenced by his glasses at a slant and his brown hair mussed up around his forehead.

“Can I…come in?” you asked as you attempted to poke your head in closer, which caused Ford to nearly shut the door in your face. The two of you had met in your first week of university, both sitting in the back of the Physics 101 class, noticing halfway through the class that you were both muttering the correct answers under your breath. Since that class, you had both been the closest of both study partners, and friends. With you being the charming talker, and Ford being the logical brains, you had both moved up the ranks in Backupsmore University. On a drunken night at the end of the first year you’d both revealed to each other that this was never your first choice. For Ford, his project to get taken in by West Tech was sabotaged, keeping him on the east coast. For you, your family couldn’t afford anything else. With 3 younger siblings you knew that your needs were met, but you also had to compromise on a lot of things- for the rest of the family. Ford kept a lot of his own family secretive, only mentioning in the middle of a spring break trip to Canada that he had an identical twin brother which nearly caused you to flip the kayak you were both in. But you were never one to push Ford too far out of his comfort zone. You recognized he was a private person, but also an incredibly bright and witty person. Someone you really liked hanging out with and spending time around. 

“No!” Ford said, “I mean uhm…what do you want?” he corrected himself, still keeping the door only open a sliver. You raised your eyebrow and leaned against the doorway yourself. He was hiding something, and poorly.

“Is there a girl in there Ford?” you whispered with a smirk, knowing there’s no shot in hell it would be the case. His face turned red as he shut the door and unchained the locks before swinging it open fully. You knew he rarely ever hung out with other people, aside from his Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons gaming group and fellow student Fiddleford. 

“No, no females in here, just a damn letter,” he sighed as he ran his hand through his hair as he turned, “it’s the grant letter,” he said as he pointed to it on his desk. You stepped in and sure enough, his desk was somehow cleared, most of the mess being moved to his bed now, with a white envelope addressed to him. 

Stanford Pines, Room 313, Backupsmore University.

“Well shit have you opened it?” you asked, standing besides him as you both stared at the envelope. He applied for a large grant for research months ago, and after tedious interview after interview, this could be it.

“No, I can’t bring myself to. It’s Schrodinger's envelope. Until I open it I could’ve won it or not. I can’t do it. I can’t face the certainty of opening it- either one,” he sighed as he pinched his glasses on his nose, going through the same logic he’d been grappling with for the past hours.

You slowly nodded. He wound himself up like this often. Paralyzed with choice. You personally were the type to make a choice and force it to be the right one- somehow make it correct or at least work out for you. Ford on the other hand needed to know that it was going to be the right one from the beginning. Once again, the logical one.

What had worked before though was you distracting him. Getting him out of his head. Or at least his room.

“Want to check out Point Pleasant? Been reports of some unusual behavior from there recently,” you mused, breaking the silence. You could practically hear the gears in his head turning. “My camcorder’s all charged, I just need your car,” you grinned at him. He couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as he sighed.

“Okay, okay, fine,” he said as he took one last look at the envelope before grabbing his coat and keys. You silently pumped your fist as you fished your camcorder out of your bag. It was covered in random stickers you’d gotten over the years of owning it, from fruit stickers, to band stickers.

There was another thing that brought you and Ford together. An affinity for the unexplained and weird. It had always piqued your interest since you were a child living in the forest, seeing things that practical textbook science couldn’t explain and going headfirst into the unknown. Ford grew to share your passion for this after getting his skepticism proved wrong after tagging along for a few of your drives out to cryptid and weirdness hotspots. Bigfoots, ghosts, aliens, fairies, you’d hear a rumor and you’d grab your camcorder to go check it out yourself. Ford himself realized that he’d been viewed as something different in his own life having six fingers on each hand. The way that you got so excited and enamored with weirdness though made him feel less self conscious about his own quirks. You thrived on the unexplainable, and it eventually began to rub off on him. He could explain most equations and experiments, but he loved the challenge of not knowing how to explain something, which he seemed to always find when he followed you. 

You slid into the familiar passenger seat of Ford’s red 1960 Popular 100E, which was a little car that suited his personality well. He began the engine as you instinctively began flicking through radio channels trying to find some good music. 

The sun was starting to set which was turning the sky a pinkish yellow hue. You turned your camcorder to the sky and started filming.

“Tonight I come to you with a breaking case joined again by my dearest companion Ford Pines,” you begin as you dramatically squirm in your seat to zoom in on Ford’s face who blushes and laughs, but doesn’t take his eyes off the road. He prided himself on his safe driving, which often bored you. “Let’s take a step back my friends into a time before humans, a time before these roads meant anything, a time of empty forest and beautiful lands untouched by buildings,” you continued as you turned back to the sunset, “imagine soaring above this beautiful area one day and then BAM!” you shouted, twisting back to Ford trying to catch him off guard. No luck though. “A billboard! A damn city has popped up in your turf! Where you were just chilling one day. Unbelievable,” you sighed as you turned back to the now darkening sky. “That my friends is the story of today’s search, the elusive and illustrious Mothman,” you said, which caused Ford to scoff,

“You’re kidding me Y/N, Mothman?”. You stopped your recording and put your camcorder back down. 

“You’ve already started driving, it's too late to turn back now,” you hummed as you went back to clicking through channels, “just trust me Ford I’ve never let you down,”. 

The two of you kept driving into the night, discussing recent classes and homework, and you trying to fill Ford in on recent gossip. The car rolled into Point Pleasant around 1:32 am, which is where you sat up again and turned on your screen. Slowly directing Ford down an overgrown path outside of town. Stopped by a closed gate warning to turn back you grinned maniacally as you jumped out the car practically before Ford could stop it. You climbed over the gate with Ford trailing behind you, muttering about tetanus and safety. 

“We start here, on an abandoned road,” you said as you panned around the forest “where this Mothman has been reported to be seen earlier this week,” you continued, “once again with my trusty partner Ford,” you added zooming in and out on Ford who was crouched down looking at the mud.

“Seems fresh,” he said as he pointed to a large claw prints on the ground, with what looked like a walking pattern of a human. Ford pulled out his notebook, which was a precariously put together collection of notes and drawings he started once he started going out on these adventures with you. You had your camcorder, and he had his notebook. It was a spiral notebook you’d gotten for him after getting tired of seeing him lose his sketches he’d done earlier on napkins, although the amount of wear and tear it got was already causing the spiral part of it to get stuck in some spots.

You zoomed in on the footprints and kept your camcorder down as you followed them farther and farther until you felt a strong gust of wind. You slowly brought your camcorder up to a tree in front of you, where a pair of glowing red eyes looked back down at you.

“Whoah,” you said softly as you marveled at the size of the creature in the tree as your saw the 7 foot feathered? furry? thing sitting in the branch, staring back down at you. You kept your camcorder and eyes on the creature, bewildered as you felt two familiar hands on your hips slowly pulling you back.

“Y/N we gotta go,” Ford whispered in your ear as he kept trying to scoot you back.

“Ford wait-” you protested as you tried to shoo him, which only tightened his hold and urgency.

“Y/N this thing does not play friendly,” he urged again, grabbing your head and forcing it to the pile of deer and other forest animal skeletons nearby that you had missed before. To seal the deal the two of you both heard the creak of the branch and flapping of wings as the Mothman jumped off the perch. 

Very quickly you grabbed Ford’s hand as the two of you began hauling ass back to his car, knowing it would supply a little bit of safety from the claws of the creature. Above there was a screech similar to a bird as you both dove into the car with you flopping on top of Ford as he started to fumble for his keys and scooting to the drivers seat. 

“A show folks! We have a show!” you shouted to the camcorder as you tried to get a view of the Mothman through the window, “we’ve discovered that our Mothman friend is NOT a vegetarian I fear!”. Ford frantically started the car and began reversing back the way the two of you had come. 

There was a loud thump onto the top of the car as you both looked at each other. It was on top of the car. Shit.

Ford continued trying to reverse down the overgrown trail as you resorted to honking the horn for him to try and get the Mothman off the top of the car. The car jolted as the Mothman jumped off the car, letting the both of you take a breath as you rejoined the paved road. 

“Damn that was crazy!” you said as Ford turned the car back into the road. He opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by both of your screams as the behemoth of the Mothman slammed down onto the hood of the car, metal screeching beneath the claws as it gripped on. 

“YOU SPOKE TOO SOON!” Ford shouted as he attempted to honk the horn, which only seemed to peeve the creature off more as it attempted to hit the windshield. You fumbled with your camcorder once again trying to film this scene as Ford continued to let out a string of curses. 

“Try and throw him off!” you shouted as you grabbed the side of the wheel and yanked it right, very grateful nobody else was on the road. The Mothman certainly wasn’t expecting it as it lost its balance careening off the side before Ford narrowly dodged it to not run it over. He pressed the accelerator all the way down as he tried to put as much distance between the car and the temporarily stunned Mothman.

You were out of breath as you laid your head back onto the seat, taking in the avoided danger. Grateful it wasn’t any worse. The tinny of the radio was the only noise in the car as the two of you stared at the mangled hood of the car.

“Ford I’m-”

“I got the grant,” he said before you could apologize, “I got the full 100 thousand dollars,”. You punched his shoulder excitedly.

“STANFORD PINES!” you shouted as you continued to hit his arm which made him grin and look over at you, “HELL YEAH YOU DID!”. You were overjoyed for your friend. He was the hardest working student and person you knew and truly deserved the cash to make his dreams happen. “I can’t believe you opened it! You had me going! Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked as you settled back down. He shrugged,

“I don’t know- I couldn’t think of how to tell you. I opened it at midnight last night and I’ve been trying to think of how to since then-” he said, “You’ve done so much to help me get it and- I just needed to do it justice,” he sighed. 

You gripped his arm again and gently shook it,

“I’m so fucking happy for you Ford this is going to change everything!” you smiled, “what are you going to do with it all?” you asked.

He let out a sigh, “I want to do this. Full time,” he said, “There’s a place, in Oregon, over in the Pacific Northwest- there’s something supernatural happening there based on my research and I there’s some land available already,” he continued, “I want to make a lab, a honest research lab, to do this sort of cryptid, oddities, weirdness hunting full time,”. 

The car was silent as he sat with himself.

“Damn that was the first time I’ve really said it out loud,” he laughed nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“I think that sounds great Ford,” you nodded with a smile as you continued to gently rub his arm to make him feel a little better.

“But I need you there,” he said, confidently, “You got me hooked on this stuff, and you have a real knack for it. It’s only right if you come with,”. 

“I would be honored, Ford are you kidding me!?” you said excitedly as you squeezed his hand quickly on the wheel.

“It’s going to be really messy, and I don’t know how I’m going to move everything, but I need you to be there with me to make this work,” he said with a firm nod.

“And I’ll be there,” you nodded back as you sat back into your seat, looking back out at the dark road. You couldn’t help but feel giddy at the future Ford had just invited you to.

[sleeplessdreamer14]

𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 (𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝐼𝐼)

fandom: gravity falls

relationship: stanford pines x reader

summary: the moment Ford realized he loved you.

contains: fluff, pining, a few little references, no dialogue

some folks who loved part I: @thistrashisreadytobash @allies-diary @gravity-falls-fanatic89 @nelson-and-murdock

It had been a few months since Ford realized he liked you, and he was handling it… relatively well.

Upon fully registering the fact that he had a thing for you, Stanford decided to give it some time just to see if the crush would fade and things would go back to normal. But as weeks passed, it gradually became clear that these feelings weren’t going anywhere. Especially since a lot of cheesy love songs were starting to make a lot of sense to him all of a sudden.

That being said, he had found a way to make the best of the situation. Ford still spent time with you, fortunately still feeling comfortable in your company. 

Though he had to admit, even the littlest things you did, like looking in his direction with those soulful eyes and saying his name, had a habit of getting his train of thought lost for a good second, resulting in him having to catch himself before he could say something stupid. 

Now, strolling along the boardwalk, he found himself lost in thought. Whenever the two of you would part ways at the end of the day, even if you had just spent hours together, it always felt like he was leaving your side too soon. Like he always wanted just a few more minutes with you. 

If Ford were to be completely honest, it was a bit frustrating, liking you. He had only had a select few crushes in the past- all of which seemed to go awry in some way or another- and none of them measured up to what he felt for you. Whereas he would feel little bouts of giddy excitement at the thought of his previous objects of infatuation, his crush on you was a whole other ball park. The joy was still there, of course, but it was evenly accompanied by a tightness in his chest that would have him distracted during the day and restless at night.

And as if on cue, the sound of your voice pulled Ford out of his thoughts, prompting him to lift his gaze from the old wooden planks of the boardwalk so he could see you walking in his direction and the distant clouds suddenly make way for the afternoon sun. He walked with you across the dock, sharing how your days have been and other such whatever.

Despite its difficulties, Ford liked this part of spending time with you. Ultimately, conversation with you has always been as easy as breathing. You understood each other's idiosyncrasies, and even liked each other all the more for them, and you just passed the time together so well.

For most of his life, Stanford had been brought up to meet certain expectations set up by those around him, thanks to his higher-than-average academic smarts.

But standing at the edge of the pier, leaning against the railing, staring out at the plum tinted sea with you, all of those things were put on the back-burner, and he wasn’t the six-fingered freak or the de facto smartest kid in the room. He could just indulge in simple whimsy, like when you two would watch scary movies and judge the quality of the acting and the special effects, or get drinks together after school and hang out until it got dark.

It was rare for him to meet anyone who made him feel so comfortably… human. 

As the sun got lower, the skies grew darker, and the carnival lights came on, the full weight of the situation gradually dawned on Ford as he took a couple of small side steps to be closer to you, fumbling curtly with his hands. He loved to see you, to talk to you, hear you laugh, to be next to you. He just… loved you.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

❁𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝙰 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛

Warnings: Penetrative sex, aphrodisiac { pollen }

A/n: I am so sorry this is horrible, this is my first time writing GN smut.

A flower, yo were tasked with finding a flower, a bright pink flower if you wanted to be exact.

Dropping your shoulders you carefully picked the thing only for the damn thing to blast bright pollen in your face, gripping the stem of the plant you didn't even notice Ford stepping out behind you.

"Oh so you found it! Perfect....are you feeling alright."

Shuddering, you glanced at Ford with narrowed eyes. "What the fuck."

Rubbing the back of his neck, Ford gave you a sheepish smile as his cheeks turned a bright pink. "It is an aphrodisiac...I did not expect.!"

"Ford!"

"I...I'll take it too." Ford stuttered out as he looked over your flushed form as he inhaled the pollen too, a shudder running through his body.

Squeezing your legs shut, a whimper escaped your lips. "Fuck....Ford why would you."

Doing his best to stay calm, Ford ignored the hammering in his heart as he wrapped his six fingers around your hand. "It was for science."

Biting back a snort, you shook your head as a weak laugh escaped your lips. "You gonna fuck me for science."

Blushing Ford continued to pull you back the lab, his pants were becoming uncomfortable now.

“I..."He blinked a few times, he felt hot, he felt,turned on. Letting out a weak laugh he turned to face you.

"We would have trials but...if you don't mind." Ford asked, finally back in his office his hands moved to your hips. "You are my partner after all..." he cleared out his throat shifting his body, his erection throbbing now.

Letting out a soft laugh, you sunk your teeth into your lip as your hand ran down his chest. "Then I guess you have to fuck me for science."

Letting out a deep chuckle, he tilted your chin up and lowered his mouth to yours in a tender kiss. He poured all his feelings into it, once he broke the kiss. Ford rested his forehead against yours and gazed into your eyes. "You do not have to do this, I can...take matters into my own hands."

Shaking your head, you pulled the man in for another kiss. "I want this...I want you to fuck me Stanford."

Ford's breath caught at your explicit consent. Month's of pent up longing and desire boiled over, an inferno engulfing any semblance of rational thought and restraint.

Crushing his mouth to yours in a fierce, starved kiss, he hauled your body against his hardness, intoxicated by the feel of you at last in his arms. You gasped into his mouth as his erection, ground against your heat through the thin fabric.

Breaking the kiss with a groan, he grasped your thighs and lifted you effortlessly to wrap your legs around his waist. Turning his head, he nipped along your neck, laving his tongue over every sensitive spot he discovered.

"You have no idea...how long I've dreamed of this..." He muttered raggedly against your skin. His hands roamed your body with unrestrained hunger, pausing to palm your chest and roll a pebble hard nipple between his fingers.

The desk no impediment as he found your hole with his thick length. Locking eyes with you, he slid inside with one deep thrust, until he was fully seated to the hilt. Your gasp of pleasure at being filled so wholly and a low masculine groan of satisfying left them both teetering on the edge.

Ford began to move, withdrawing almost fully before surging back in a relentless rhythm. His mouth devoured yours ravenously, swallowing every moan and sigh as sheer bliss cascaded through him. At long last, his star, his entire universe was in his arms, joined with him utterly as he took you with abandon. Papers on the ground, glasses sliding off the desk with each thrust.

An airy laugh escaping your lips as you clutched the desk, grasping the hard surface. "Who knew the old timer could still get it." You teased as your fingers ran through his dark gray hair.

Ford groaned at your teasing words, making him fuck into you even harder and faster. An animalistic side surging to the surface in his unrestrained claiming of you.

"I'll try to not throw out my back." he growled gutturally, nipping your earlobe between his teeth. He felt wildly out of control but you were right there with him, meeting each powerful thrust and clawing at his back.

Hooking one arm under your knee, he hit an even deeper angle that had you screaming his name to the heavens. The sound only served to further unravel his tenuous hold on sanity.

He could feel the tension coiling impossibly tighter low in his abdomen. Glancing down between your joined bodies, the erotic sight of his glistening cock pounding relentlessly into you, he felt a flush to his cheeks as he hid his face in your neck.

"..I'm so close" he pleaded roughly. Sliding a hand between your sticky thighs, a few more strokes and you would fly over the edge into ecstasy.

"Ford! Shit don't stop...please." A whine slipping from your lips.

Ford shuddered, feeling you clench around him, his breath labored as you convulsed deliciously around his throbbing length, milking him for all he was worth, he lost himself completely to instinct. His hips snapped at a punishing pace.

The pollen, the pollen had to be effecting him. Bringing his hidden feelings to the surface.

"Mine," he snarled possessively, attacking your lips voraciously. One hand clenched your thigh in an unyielding grip. You mentally laugh at the thought of his six fingers leaving a print.

A deep groan leaving your lips feeling your release hit you as his own release hit like a freight train, detonating through him in burning waves as he slammed his hips flush against yours one final time. Thick spurts of molten seed flooded your hole, his primal grunts of satisfaction echoing around you amidst the fading echoes of your squeals.

Still locked intimately together, his labored breaths stirred your hair as he barely held your boneless form aloft with his arms. Gradually the frenzied haze lifted from his eyes, leaving only a sated glow of deep intimacy and devotion. Gazing down at your flushed, ravished appearance, his mouth curved in a wolfish smile of ownership and affection. "Mine."

Shaking your head, you brought your hand weakly ruffling his hair. Shaking your head you then fixed his glasses. "Yes...yours...I'm yours Ford."

[crows-in-the-house]

Can't take my eyes of you

summary: hc's for Stanford having a crush on reader

pairing: Stanford Pines x reader

tw: none

after being alone for years in different dimensions with no hope of escape? tauch starved 100%.

has separation anxiety and will want to stay with his loved ones most of the time. if he ever wakes up from a nightmare you better comfort him, reminding he's home and safe. kisses and hugs will be apprecieated

wants to ramble about his interests but will be quiet around his love interest to not sound "too weird"

(please ask him about fantasy and science fiction stuff! he will share all his theories with you!)

also, he would love to teach you things, no matter if it is math, physics, the anomalous, his knowladge won't go to waste!

he takes allnighters just so he can plan out every interaction with you for the next day

def an overthinker

won't be opposed to take you for missions to spend time together. He knows how to keep you safe from any harm. He doesn't realize how hot he looks when doing it tho.

will also enjoy you patching him up. Getting beaten by an alien is worth it when he sees you running with bandages! Just don't mention the blush on his face, he won't be able to say anything withaut stammering for hours!

helping him with shaving? so he doesn't set himself on fire? lovely. his mind is racing with ideas to take you on dates.

helping him solve a hard equasion which he worked on for hours? great! his mind is imagining you two getting married.

he would also let you wear his coat, you don't even have to ask! he will see you wear it, smile and go back running to his lab to create a machine that prints memories on paper

will scan your dna to see how compatable you two are

let's you peak into his journals! Sometimes even you can draw in them or add some memrabilia like photos, pretty leaves or sticky notes.

to be honest, all your sticky notes are in there. just neatly hidden between glued pages or in secret envelope pockets

he's a little insecure about his hands - hold them! he will melt!

over all 10/10 pinning and blushing, you will have to nudge him a little to make a move

[darlingdaisyfarm]

. 𖥔 but you belong to me (Bill x Ford x fem!reader) ˖

tags: nsfw (mdni), rough sex, triangle bill, mind fuck, p in v, oral sex, fingering, dirty talk, overstim, can this be considered as threesome?, billford, bill x reader too, because bill is obsessed with ford and reader

Ford's fingers slide your panties to the side, his thumb teasing your clit. And that’s when you feel it. His presence, slipping into your mind, into your reality. Bill, his voice fills the entire room, he’s watching everything, his creepy laugh echoing in your skull. But then there’s more, what feels like phantom fingers, Bill’s will, twisting reality, adding another layer to the sensation. 

You feel the weight of Bill's presence even before he starts talking. You gasp, feeling both Ford’s physical touch and Bill’s mental invasion. “Awww, baby, I see you squirming, so cute, so innocent, acting like you’re not dying to be fucked right now.”

You swear you feel something like ghostly fingers tracing the inside of your thighs. “You feel that, doll? That’s all me. That little pussy is practically begging for it, isn’t it?” his words curl around your mind, suffocating. “I could make you scream without even laying a single finger on you, doll. Or I could let Sixer here think he’s doing all the work. What do you want, hm? To beg? To cry?” his voice teases you from inside. “come on, you want this, don't you? How about I help make it a little more fun?”

Meanwhile Ford pulls your thighs apart, running his fingers over your skin, “Don’t listen to him, keep your eyes on me.” he whispers, leaning closer to your core.

You can’t. You physically can’t, because Bill’sthere, not touching but everywhere. His voice enters your thoughts, making every brush of Ford’s lips against your skin send electric sparks throughout your whole body. “Touch her more, Sixer, don’t hold back now, you know I don’t like when you do.”

Ford doesn’t stop, as if obeying. His hands are shaking why, Sixer? as they hold your hips, his breath against your soaking pussy, lips dragging down your inner thighs, closer. “Focus on me. Please, I’m right here.”

Your legs tremble and the second his tongue presses against your swollen clit, Bill sends a pulse through your head, flipping the world upside down. The bed disappears, replaced with something dark, flickering lights, shadows, but you still feel Ford’s mouth on you, licking, sucking, groaning into you.

Phantom touches everywhere. Invisible fingers tracing up your inner thighs, circling your wrists, grabbing at your ankles. You cry out, body arching into Ford’s mouth, but there’s something more, something that feels like Bill as you hear his voice in your head, mocking, amused. “Yeah, yeah, good girl, keep whining like that.”

You squirm under Ford’s touch, but your mind’s caught between his soft movements and Bill’s invasion into your senses. He’s twisting reality around you, making you feel as if hands holding you down are Ford’s, maybe, or maybe Bill’s invisible force, pressing down on you while Ford’s tongue fucks you deeper. 

You gasp, hips jerking against Ford’s face, his wet, eager tongue running all over your slit. But it’s Bill who makes these sensations stronger. He pounds your mind with dirty thoughts, makes every flick of Ford’s tongue feel like it’s not just Ford anymore, but something darker, more chaotic, controlling you from the inside. 

“Can he make you scream like I can, doll? you look pathetic like this, so fucking adorable.”

Ford growls in frustration what happened, Fordsy? not getting enough attention?, he drags his tongue up your clit again, sucking it into his mouth while his fingers finally slide inside you, curling, stretching, fucking into you. Your eyes widening, you swear you’re loosing your mind and your fingers clutch at the sheets. You can barely get the words out, because it feels like Bill’s fingers are already inside you too, teasing where Ford can’t reach. It’s like your body is betraying you and you can’t even tell what’s real anymore.

“M-more, please—! so good. . .” moans falls from your lips.

“She’s so wet, Sixer, she’s fucking drenched for you,” Cipher’s sick voice hums inside Ford’s head too.

“Fuck off.” Ford wants to say, but instead he talks to you: “Ignore him. I’m right here, don’t listen to him.” he mutters, pulling away from you for a second before starting to devour you again, tongue swirling around your clit while his fingers drive into you, pressing against that gummy spot and you’re falling apart. But Bill’s mocking laughter fills your ears.

Your body jerks away because it’s just too much, too much sensations they overwhelm you, but Ford’s rough hands pull you back, grabbing your hips as he yanks you closer to his mouth, fingers pumping into you faster, deeper, his tongue pressing against your throbbing clit, sucking. You can’t control the way your legs shake, the way your pussy clenches around his fingers. Ford’s groans are muffled, vibrating through your cunt and it makes your body twitch, thighs squeezing around his head, but he’s not giving in. You taste too damn good.

And Bill’s there. Watching. You scream as Ford's tongue makes you see stars, but it’s Bill who twists your mind to make it feel like there are more hands, more mouths, fingers digging into your skin, phantom lips brushing your neck, your thighs, everything. 

“That’s it, whimper like that. Ford’s doing all the hard work, but we both know who’s really in control, right?” Bill laughs and your vision blurry with how fast Ford’s moving his fingers, shoving them deep into your dripping pussy, creating these filthy squelching sounds, but Bill is flooding your mind, until you’re whimpering, shuddering, begging for more.

Ford's mouth is still working you over, he swirls his tongue on your tortured clit as his fingers curling inside, knuckle deep, drawing you closer to orgasm because you feel oh so fucking good your toes curl. But Bill’s voice is right there, crawling through your head like an infection.

Your body shakes, every nerve alive as Ford’s groan vibrates against your pussy. “I said, focus on me,” he whispers in a serious tone, plunging his fingers a little bit rougher into your wet cunt, reaching deeper. "Just me."

“Aww, isn’t that cute? you really think she’s with you, Fordsy? she’s already halfway gone, look at her, all fucked out.”

Stanford isn’t letting Bill win this. Not tonight.

Without a word, Ford grabs your thighs, pulling you closer to his body. His gaze lingers on you, on your face, your eyes stare into his, confused. Ford rarely feels this emotion, but right now he's angry, not at you. He's angry at himself for letting this happen, for messing with this demon and dragging you, the most precious thing he have, into this fucked up mess. Although he promised himself that there wouldn’t even be a hint of Bill in your life. Then how did he let such shit happen. . .?

“You're so thoughtful, Sixer. That's why I like you, even when she's lying all wet and needy under you, you still think about me. Isn't it true love?”

“F-fuck you,” Ford mutters under his breath and you give him a bleary look, your eyelashes fluttering. 

“Look at you two— pathetic. . . so desperate to feel me, aren’t you just two sick weirdos?” Bill mocks.

You don’t get time to say something as Ford slides his cock between your folds, slapping his leaking tip against your clit couple of times and then he slams into you in one swift move. You cry out, head tilting back. “You’re so tight, honey, even after I prepared you, mmhm, fucking perfect,” Ford groans, poor man can’t get enough of your wetness and tightness, as he punctuates each thrust with a hungry moan. His cock hitting so deep you can’t help but cry out, a mix of pleasure and shock. 

“Fordfordfordford—“ you repeat over and over again, mind too dumb to form anything else than just his name, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close to the kiss.

Bill’s laugh cuts through the air like static, he’s everywhere, inside your head, inside your body, like he’s fucking you from the inside out, dragging every ounce of pleasure from your soul without even needing to touch you. “That’s right, doll. Let him fuck you, such a good little toy.”

Ford's face turns serious as he watches you become boneless, when you look at him through these beautiful tears of pleasure, but he doesn’t let you time to adjust, driving into you without mercy.

“Ouch, Fordsy, so rough. What made you that mad?” 

Ford is trying to drown out Bill’s voice, trying to lose himself in you. “Shut up,” he pants, his forehead presses to yours, eyes squeezed shut. “Just shut up.” but you can hear the way his voice trembles, his mind isn’t entirely here either. Bill got him, too.

“You really think you’re the one making her feel good?”

Ford leans down, pressing you into the mattress, his weight crushing into you, hands grabbing at your thighs to spread you open wider, forcing you to take him deeper. He buries himself as far as he can, because he wants, needs, to make sure only he can fuck you like that, only he can reach that deep inside your body till his tip rubs against your cervix. He groans into your neck. “You’re mine— not his. Mine.” 

There’s Bill again. “Does this cunt feel good, Sixer?” 

“Goddammit, Bill—” Ford hisses, but even as he protests, his movements quicken, his cock drilling into you repeatedly, so needy, he’s just as lost in it as you are. His thumb circles your clit to bring his lovely girl more pleasure, but it’s like Bill’s controlling the pace, dragging it out, making it impossible for you to think straight.

Ford grits his teeth, thrusting harder, making the bed shake beneath you. His hands are on your thighs, his cock driving into you with desperate, determined thrusts. “Ignore him, he’s nothing,” he whispers into your ear, but it sounds like he’s telling that to himself more than all. Ford kisses the side of your neck, groaning your name, his hips never stopping, pounding into you in deep, relentless thrusts while you hold onto him, feeling how hot his body is.

But how can you ignore Bill, when he’s slipping into your thoughts like he belongs there, his influence wrapping around your mind like an invisible hand on your throat?

Your legs tremble, body arching under him, Ford moves even deeper, rearranging your insides and you scream. “Ahh—! ahhn, damn— Ford, Ford! sl-slow down”

His cock throbs inside you, kissing your cervix, he hates being that rough, but he can’t help himself, trying to claim you, mark you, keep you away from Bill. 

Ford kisses you, hungrily, so damn messy, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth and all you can do is cling to him, your body shaking as he pounds into you, his cock pulses, grinding into that spot inside you that makes you claw at his back, nails dragging down his skin as your mind goes hazy from the pleasure.

But Bill’s not backing down. “Fucking pathetic, Sixer. Look at her, she’s still thinking about me while you’re fucking her. Can’t even keep her focused, can you?” that makes Ford’s grip on you only tighten, fingers digging into your skin as he slams into you harder, trying to get you back to reality when he sees your eyes rolling, you’re whining pathetically, your mind nothing but a fog. Ford wishes he can fuck you so deep and good that there’s no room for Bill in your head. And his too.

Ford presses closer as if he could block Bill out just by being inside you. His hands gripping so hard you know there’ll be bruises tomorrow, but right now, you’re too lost in the way Ford’s cock feels deliciously good inside you, filling you just in the way you always wished. “He can’t have you, you’re mine, honey, mine—” Ford stutters. “fucking look at me, sweetheart.” his hand wraps around your throat, not tight, but enough to pin you down, keep you in place as he slams into you, hips snapping forward with punishing thrusts that make tears roll down your cheeks.

But Bill’s presence won’t leave. His voice is like a knife in the back of your mind and Ford feels it too, but before you know it, he’s flipping you over, pulling you onto all fours. He slams into you from behind, his cock stretching you wide, what has you gasping, barely able to hold yourself up. He continues to fuck you into oblivion, thrusting into you so hard, desperate to claim you, to own you in the way only he can and all you do is moan into the sheets, your body trembling beneath him, your body so damn hot you feel you gonna explode. 

Ford grips your waist, pulling you back against him and you hear him moaning, “Fuck. . . haahhn, you feel so g-good, please, baby, pleasee,” Ford doesn’t know what he’s begging for, but he’s grinding into you, hitting that spot again and again, what feels like he’s splitting you apart, but Bill just laughs at that. Sixer, you’re always so needy

“Oh, you should see yourself right now, doll! bent over like a perfect little toy, drooling all over Sixer’s cock, what a show!”

You’re panting like a dog, barely able to breathe with how fast Ford’s fucking you, euphoria overwhelming your brain, the slap of skin against skin loud in the room. 

“C’mon, baby, don’t you wish it was me fucking you? my energy pulsing through that tight little cunt of yours, id fill you up so fucking full, you’d be shaking, just begging for more, i can feel how much you want it. All that innocence in your pretty little head? Gone, fucking ruined.”

Ford hears it too and grabs your shoulders, pulling you up against his chest, one arm wrapping around you like he’s trying to shield you from Bill’s gaze, keeping you close, possessive. Your pleasure building higher with every dirty word Bill throws at you, the way he mocks you and Ford. . . it’s so fucked up, you shouldn't get that damn wet from it.

“She’s all yours, huh? Funny, she’s about to cum and it won’t be because of you, IQ.”

“Fuck, no!” Ford snaps. “You’re mine, he’s not touching you, honey, focus on me, baby, dammit—“ he grunts loudly nearly into your face as he’s trying to make you look at him.

But Bill only gets crueler. “Aww, you hear that? he thinks he owns you, thinks he’s in control. But look at her, Sixer, she’s soaking your cock just from the sound of my voice. You can feel it, her cunt squeezing every time I talk, pathetic, isn’t it? she’s fucking pathetic.”

“Fo-Ford—! ahhnnn, I’m so close!” hearing your voice, Ford slips his hand down to rub your clit, while pressing sweet kisses on your neck, whispering what a good girl you are and begging you to cum on his cock, trying to get your mind onto something else than this demon.

But Bill isn’t done. Not even close.

“Ohhhh, you like that, baby? like when he fucks you hard like that? i bet you’re imagining what it would feel like if I were the one splitting you open instead. God, I’d tear that sweet cunt apart, fill you up so full, you’d be dripping all over the floor. You’d be fucking ruined, doll.”

Ford’s fingers digs into your skin, he’s trying so hard to pretend Bill isn’t here. “That's it, there’s my good girl, i love you s-so, fuck, so much, sweetheart,” he groans into your ear in such needy tone as if it’s the only thing keeping him from losing it completely.

If not Ford holding you, you’d surely fall because your body shaking so hard you can’t control yourself, these absolutely pornographic moans you make because your brain just melts as Ford’s cock keeps slamming into you. Your pussy clenches tight around him, you’re so wet, so fucking soaked, that the sound of him fucking you hard is so obscene, filling the room with the wet slap of his cock driving deep inside you, again and again. 

“Close, baby? Let go. Cum for him. Show him how fucking easy it is to break you.”

As if obeying Bill's words, Ford’s finger moves faster on your clit, cock pounding into you relentlessly.

“Good fucking girl. Cum for me.” now you have no idea who says that, but your orgasm crashes over you, your body shaking in Ford’s embrace, your cunt tightens hard around his cock and you cry out, mind spinning and empty, nothing fills it except Ford’s groans and Bill’s degradation. However Ford doesn’t stop moving even now as he pulls you deeper onto his cock and that’s when pleasure becomes painfully too much to handle. “Mine. . .” Ford tries to block out Bill’s voice with his own. 

But Cipher’s words sounds in both your heads. “Look at him, baby, he can’t get enough of you, can’t blame him, I’d fuck you too, but this, this is better, isn’t it?“ Bill is so caring he doesn’t forget about his lovely Sixer. “Is that all you’ve got, Fordsy?”

“Get out of my head, you b-bastard,” Ford growls, but the way his voice sounds, he’s losing it. His thrusts are so sloppy and desperate, as he tries to reclaim control, but Bill’s grip is stronger.

“Not until I’ve had my fun.” Bill whispers.

Ford’s lips hover against your ear. “Tell me. . . hngh, tell me he’s not in your head right now.” but there’s a tremor in his voice, because he knows it’s useless to fight it. Bill’s everywhere, in your thoughts, in your body, pulling every thread and Ford’s just as tangled in it as you are.

Ford tries to fuck image of Bill out of your head, out of your body, but it’s impossible, because now, that’s where he belongs. You feel both of them, in your mind, in your body, you’re both mess of moans and whines, so damn loud, but Bill adores it, it's been so long since he's heard his beloved Sixer whine like a bitch.

Ford’s hands on your your waist, fingers digging into your skin as he drives himself deep inside you from behind, your body arching into the sheets with each powerful thrust, you’re so lost in it, the overwhelming sensation, but then you feel Ford falter for a second. 

He thinks. “Fuck, he’s watching, isn’t he. . . Bill’s— he’s seeing this through me.“ Ford knows Bill like the back of his six-fingered hand, which is why he ends up being right. Cipher’s gaze burning through Ford’s perspective, he’s seeing every fucking inch of you, the way you arch for him. There's not much Ford can do about it, only trying to cover you from the all-seeing eye. But Ford is fucked up, just like Bill. He can’t help himself because the thought of Bill watching only drives him into you deeper. The way you’re taking him, yeah, Bill is getting a front-row seat. This angle, this view, Bill is seeing you like this, watching your ass bounce, watching your pussy swallow Ford’s cock. That’s why Bill got so quiet now?

"He’s— fuckk, he’s probably loving every second of it. You look so beautiful, darling." Ford’s voice breaks into a moan. "but he’s not the one fucking you, he can’t feel this— nghn, can’t feel how tight you are, how wet you are for me, oh god—!”

Pleasure tightening in your belly again, your legs shaking and suddenly you feel like you can’t breathe anymore, can’t focus on anything, your heart beats so hard. You’re close, so fucking close and it’s like Bill knows. “Go on, doll, cum,” his voice a hypnotic command. “let me hear you scream again.”

"F-Ford, I'm—"

“Yes, yes, cum for me, be a good girl and finish on my cock again, please,” Ford’s cock twitching at the feeling of your little hole squeezing him.

The pressure in your core snaps as you cum, muscles clenching hard around Ford's length, you’re shaking and trembling again, the sensation too much, too overwhelming and you’re such a damn mess, all sheets are covered in your juices, saliva and tears. Your vision goes white as you cry out, pulsing around him and Ford's name falls from your lips in broken gasps.

Ford’s thrusts stutter and you feel him start to pull out, he’s about to spill himself on your back, just like always, but then Bill's voice is heard again. “Oh, no, no, no! That’s not how this ends, Sixer.”

You hear Ford’s sharp gasp and then his hips slam forward one last time, burying his cock deep inside you again, Bill’s controlling him. You barely have time to process it before Ford groans, his dick twitching, filling you up with his cum, hot and thick. “Ohhh, fuck—! fuck, I— I didn’t— Shit, Bill, you—“ it’s like his body doesn’t belong him, Ford still moving inside you, much slower as he pumps you full of cum, until some of it starts leaking out.

Bill’s laugh fills the room. “Oh, look at that. Isn’t this just fucking perfect? Look how deep I’ve got him in you, doll. Can you feel it? Feel him throbbing inside you? That’s all me. Bet you love it! You’d let me do it again, wouldn’t you?”

[sunniskyies]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 || 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 || 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: - 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Domestic fluff as you both settle back into life together <3 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Ford Pines x fem!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: - 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Literally just fluff, a bit of being a guardian figure to the kids 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k 𝐀/𝐍: You guys are SO SWEET about the last one, so here's more fluff for you beautiful old man addicts <3

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 > 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 > 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑 > 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟒

The kids are in bed— well, mostly. You can hear the chirp of excited conversation through the ceiling. It was late, Stan and Ford’s explanation taking a long, long time. It didn’t help that the retelling got as thick and awkward as wet cement when it came to talk of Ford’s portal, and the events leading up to his departure.

Exhaustion tugs at every battered bone in your body, but you’re so content you might as well be purring like a kitten in front of a roaring fire.

You're curled up bridal-style across Ford’s lap, his arms enveloping you; warm, cradling, completing. He’s donned an old red knit jumper he fished out of his old chest of drawers. It smells like it belongs in a museum, sort of dusty and woodsy. Your face is pressed to his chest, and you feel much younger than your age. It feels like your first day in this house, the two of you huddled on a sagging mattress giggling and talking of futures and other such nonsense; youthful, hopeful, infatuated.

Now the two of you are more than thirty years on, enfolded together like the pages of a book left on an old yellow reading chair. You don’t speak, saving that long conversation for a lick of sunlight and mugs of coffee cupped in hand. No, right now you just sit in silence, Ford’s large hands stroking dust from your hair, a thumb gently soothing the bruise forming on your temple where you struck the wall.

Still unaware of the time except for the inky night hanging in the air, you feel Ford shift. His arms move, body ready to stand up with you. He stops when he notices two large pupils staring up at him curiously.

“You’re still awake, dear,” he smiles, voice quiet. “Let me take you to bed, I must lock up downstairs, make sure nothing vile is seeping through that blasted portal.”

“Ford, no, let’s go to sleep. You can do that in the morning,” you say, trying to ward off the edge of desperation edging into your tone. You can’t help but remember the miserable months of nights in a cold bed while your lover hid away in the basement, sleeping on his desk rather than with you. It has to be different— he’s better now.

Ford doesn’t share your fretting. “No, it’s not stable. Reopening the portal… it’s not safe to leave these things.” He continues to stand up, your body delicately draped over his arms. He seems to notice your expression. “I’ll join you soon, love.”

You doubt that. He’ll probably be there ‘till morning, his simple task snowballing as his keen eyes notice the slightest things amiss. “No, that won’t happen. No, no, I’ll join you. I’m rather accustomed to the portal myself after all this time with it.” You dismiss, stretching a leg to try and stand on the floor.

Ford bundles you up closer, “Absolutely not! You need rest, I swear I will join you.” He begins carrying you to the hall. Your fingers clutch the red fabric of his sweater. 

“Please don’t leave me,” you murmur plaintively, the corners of your mouth downturned. You miss the way Ford’s heart stutters, your eyes all hopelessly syrupy and mournful through your lashes.

He hesitates.

“Please? You can stay down there any other night I promise, just stay this time.”

His jaw tightens. “I don’t want that. Not again,” he says firmly. “Okay… I’ll… I’ll come with you.”

You immediately relax again, at ease in the rhythm of Ford’s steps as he carries you to your room. A stupid grin hijacks your face as he ever-so-gently places you under the sheets (he remembered what side of the bed). You watch from your nest of sheets as he gets ready for bed in the soft lamplight, lifting up the duvet for him to slide in next to you.

His arm around you, frothy sheets up to your neck— you think you might die here and now for how perfect everything feels. You feel his nose bump the top of your head as he presses a kiss to your hair.

“If you’d have told me this morning that… that today would be the day I would’ve never believed…” you say, heavy eyelids closing as you're interrupted by a yawn. You feel his chuckle reverberate where you lean into his chest. 

“Go to sleep, sweetness.” He murmurs, tone laced with a smile. There are his hands again, rubbing soft circles on your arm, your hair. He might as well be rubbing in anaesthesia, his touch lulling you to sleep. Darn you Pines.

Before sleep pulls you under, “I’m so glad your back, Stanford,” slips quietly from your lips. Ford’s heart skips again. Arms tighten around you as if you’re a precious photo about to float away on the wind; skin softly creased from a lifetime of loving, hair matte and grey like faded ink from thirty years of waiting.

“I’m more grateful than you could ever know, my dear,”

A stretch trembles through your warm limbs, the aches from last night dulled by a deep slumber and the warm morning sunlight soaking through the window. A thrill passes through you, your arm sliding through the sheets to Stanford’s side and—

A cry pours from you as your hand meets cold, empty space. Your body is jolted upright, perspiration glistening on your forehead. Your heart is hammering, lungs gulping in buckets of air. Where is he? Where is Ford? Did he come through the portal? Did it really happen? You don’t register the wail emanating from you, nor do you register the pound of heavy boots down the hallway.

“____ are you okay?!” Ford exclaims, almost slamming into the door as he hurries in. His hand is tense, hovering above the gun strapped to his belt.

The sight of him— the feeling you get is so overpowering it’s nauseating. Your paralysed limbs untense, body slumping in relief.

“Goddammit Stanford Pines, you just gave me the fright of a lifetime,” you bemoan, uninvited tears swimming beneath the sieve of your hands. You don’t see as his face goes from confused to slack with realisation.

“Oh,” He groans. “Oh sweetness I’m so sorry.” Feeling horrible, he leans on the bed to pull you into him, rubbing your back. “I should’ve waited for you to wake up, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m sorry, I probably scared you half to death.” You mumble, slightly embarrassed. As much as you are connected to Ford, thirty years has changed both of you, and you find yourself —embarrassingly— feeling like you need to impress him, like a teenager with a crush. God forbid he thinks ill of you!

You relish his rumble of a laugh. “I thought a monster slipped by me or something! I’m grateful you're okay.”

“Yeah, well, I think you might’ve just taken a year off my life, Ford.” You roll your eyes lovingly, a few of the last of those silly tears escaping.

After getting up and pulling on some summer-friendly clothes, you slip down to the kitchen to find the morning well underway. The sun is beating through the windows, and Dipper is sat cross legged on the floor reading a book. He’s reading with the cover down, but his furtiveness is wasted on you; you know he's reading A Good Girl's Guide to Murder. ‘Mature murder mystery books’ indeed, Dipper!

At the kitchen bench, Mabel is haphazardly balanced on a stack of books, multiple propped open at once. From the batter congealing the pages together and the fact that most of the books are iced, you know they are cookery books. And a cookbook in Mabel’s hands is either as dangerous as a matchbook to a forest, or as useless as shoes to a fish.

By the looks of it, it is the latter. Although, is there a faint… burning?

“Great Aunt ___!” Mabel squeals, revealing sprinkle-harbouring braces. “I'm baking, look I’m baking! See, I had this great idea to try and substitute the liquids in my Mabel Cakes with Mabel Juice because Grunkle Ford has never had either —can you believe that? Me neither, so I thought I could kill two birds with one stone and make them together… but I didn’t realise the plastic dinosaurs in the juice would melt in the waffle iron!—” You try to cut off the young girl’s 100-mile-an-hour babble, but that girl is unstoppable.

You wince as she holds up two fists of semi-cooked, eye-wateringly bright gobdules of cakey dough. You, pained, notice the half-melted dinosaurs, faces in liquified agony as strings of molten plastic drip from their bodies. Matchbook in forest, matchbook in forest!

“—So now it’s a bit of a Jurassic Park, another reason why I think Grunkle Ford will love it, even if it’s a bit of a.... disaster. But if you think about it it’s more like a Magical Mabel Disaster! And oh, I added extra sprinkles because you can never have too many sprinkles! Do you think the hardened dinosaurs will make up for the uncooked dough? Or should I cook it more? Doesn’t matter, it’ll taste great!”

You give her a wobbly smile, mostly because you fear what might happen if you open your mouth.

“I tried to stop her,” Dipper mutters from between his pages, voice smug and matter-of-fact.

“Oh don’t act like you're so grown-up, you’re reading a little girl's book,” she retorts in a sing-song. Dipper slams his book closed, the tips of his ears matching the cover.

“I think you’ll find it’s very sophisticated and easy to digest—”

You let the twin’s bickering fade into the background as you begin to tidy up the carnage Mabel’s baking attempt has left. Usually, she gets distracted by things quite quickly, leaving Mabel-messes scattered around for anyone to find. You don’t mind it though, all too glad to slide the Mabel Cake into the bin. You shiver. Those plastic faces… they haunt.

Ford was back down in the basement, the sounds of clanging and buzzing drifting up through the weary floorboards. You want to go down there, but that silly part of you doesn’t want to disturb him again today. No— that’s ridiculous! Ford loves your company, you don’t get in his way —it’s not like it was when Bill was around.

Five minutes later, you're standing in the small room in the basement holding a cup of coffee and a salvaged Mabel Cake. You see Ford through the glass, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tools being used and replaced back onto his belt. He’s hauling colossal slabs of metal from the sides of the portal, the machine slowly being stripped down to bone. Like a massive carcass, it creaks and groans as Ford’s tools slice away at its flesh, and you hope he’s staying well out the way each time pieces of it fall to the floor like toppling trees.

After a few moments, Ford seems to notice you through his welding mask, though you can’t see his face through the tinted visor. He perks up though, dropping a massive saw to the ground and hurrying over.

“Hello, my dear! Is it too noisy?” He says as he slips through the door, pulling off his helmet and drawing you in for a sheepish kiss.

“No, just bringing you some of Mabel’s baking efforts— you don’t have to eat it, but she was awfully excited.” Ford surveys the cake with a smile, and you resist the urge to wipe the smear of soot from his cheek. 

“Thank you. For the sustenance, and for, uh, for checking in,” he says sincerely. Is that a flush you see? Your suspicions are confirmed when you set the coffee aside and bring him in for a deeper kiss, blouse-clad arms sliding around his neck, and you feel his pulse thrum beneath his skin.

The relief you feel! You’re not the only one navigating these unknown emotions, that the man who’s mapped the multiverse is also feeling the giddy nerves you are. Your skin prickles where his degloved hands bear your skin.

It feels strange to be held romantically after so long of loneliness. It’s not that you haven’t found love with the kids and Stan, but you could never bring yourself to even look at another in the way you used to look at Ford. Even if you never finished the portal, you would’ve spent the rest of your life alone, satisfied at least in the knowledge of how it felt to be loved, once. It excites you childishly knowing just by his kiss that Ford felt the same, the way he cradles you in his gaze and with his hands as if he’s trying to reabsorb every inch.

When you break away, his eyes open after yours, and he seems to be at a loss for what to say.

“Do you, um, want to go for a walk this evening? You haven’t left the shack yet, and we haven’t truly caught up…” you offer shyly.

“Yes! That would be… splendid! Spectacular. This evening. Perfect.” He blurts. The calm of last evening has clearly floated away in the daylight for both of you.

“Perfect.” You repeat.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @sleeplessdreamer14, @2hiigh2cry, @taffycandyqt, @papi-machucha, @muffin1304

© sunniskyies 2024, do not repost or translate my work

[stanfordswifey]

No but like ford would be the type to be obsessively observant, deadass sees u looking at an item for a little too long and immediately notes down you like it (may or may not be gifted to you in a month or so).

He's the type to remember the small meaningful things, favorite color, favorite flowers, fav position.

He'd have a whole ass journal about you just incase he forgets, aww.. i love him sm