#well well fordsy

[realityscaresme]

this GOT scene is giving me billford vibes like bill offering ford to be his second hand queen next to him in his throne

[nerdstreak]

it's been 84 3 years,, and ngl i missed drawing him and especially in this style

2 versions of some halloween fun to welcome ford back and reign in the season!

[irregularbillcipher]

the thing that’s frustrating about bill is that he is the most stubborn motherfucker in any dimension, and will not improve himself in any way unless HE thinks he has to, and he never wants to acknowledge that he has to. like even if he actually likes or loves someone, anybody asking him to change even a little in a way he doesn’t agree with is met with “oh so you hate me? you think i should die??? you want me to kill myself??? you’re betraying me because you hate me???” like dude all keyhole said is that a few of the maniacs wanna nap sometimes and a ten year party without any sleep sounds a little tiring can you please calm down

[milkivikk]

continuation of this weird stan creature i made

lookadem big ol eyes

[razzafrazzle]

I think that I've only drawn Ford like. 3 times in my entire life. so here's some Fordsy (and some Fiddsy. and a Bill I guess)

[image description: a page of drawings of ford, mcgucket, and bill cipher from gravity falls. near the top are two portraits of ford, one in the gravity falls style and the other in a more realistic style. next to that is a simple doodle of ford and mcgucket smiling and embracing with the caption "old man yaoi!" beneath them. in the bottom left is a simple drawing of a younger ford, and next to that is a drawing of bill with a speech bubble saying "i'm here too! also i'm hatless for spacing reasons". next to that is bill's hat, as well as mcgucket in an orange and brown 70s-style outfit and a braided beard, and he is sitting on the ground, lost in thought. end id]

[jinxthequeergirl]

The ol Switcharoo (pt1.)

Stan x reader/ Ford x reader

Summary: you liked to assume you knew Stanford Pines better then most, but when you return to him after am extended trip you aren't sure you really do

Warning: NONE, she's looking as all hell and I apologize, it's mess I know but it's a start ok

Chat feel free to tell me is this is a dumb idea

~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~

You where a weird kid growing up.

A fact you wouldn't deny. Even as a child you knew you where diffrent and what intrested you was odd. You embraced it. You loved all things creepy and crawly. While most kids your age had posters of there favorite superheros or cartoon characters while your room was plastered with that of monsters and ghouls.

Things from Dracula all the way to the Mysterious Mothman decorated your room, they were the movies you had on repeat books you stuffed your nose in. You loved it all. As you got older, you loved them more, thrusting yourself into science to prove they could existed in the natural world that they DID!

The supernatural world was out there and you where going to explore it. Even as a kid you would be caught monster hunting always running headfirst into adventure no fears.

Your mother was supportive of your every decision regardless of if she believed it lead anywhere or not. She was more happy you where just passionate about something at all and was eager to send you to college.

That's what led you straight to Stanford Pines. The man you would proudly proclaim as your best friend. You'd met during one of your shared classes in college, quickly finding out you had almost similar interests and ideals, everything he had to say fascinated you. And he was more then happy to have someone so eager to find the supernatural with him.

Soon enough you where inseparable. (Y/n) and Standford there was no stopping the pair of you two through all of college whatever you two went through you went through together ups and downs everything was shared. Adding fiddleford to the mix and your trio was complete.

You where of course the first person he had asked to move into his house in gravity falls to further your research together.

"This place is incredible Fordsie I mean think of how much is actually out there!" You exclaimed gesturing to the untamed woods of Oregon from the roof of the house. Ford chuckled adding the finishing touches to a page in his second edition journal before offering it too you for your stamp of approval.

You gladly accepted the book. "And just think about everything else there is to come once we get the machine up and running!" You took a pen of your own and scribbled something in, nodding in agreement to his statment before sitting down beside him.

You took in a breath of fresh air and exhaled a sigh of relief. Ford copying your action. "To think I almost would have never made it this far." He said staring up at the darkening sky.

"Well let's not think like that fordsie, everything that almost stopped you from coming here got you here didn't it?" You said as if you where asking the stars that began to speckle the sky.

He looked over at you. "Everything happens for a reason sixer. Plus you got me out of it didn't you?" You joked nudging him with your elbow.

"That It did." He mused while watching you stare up at the sky with content. He gave a soft smile. Of all the great mysteries in the world, you became his favorite. It didn't matter how well he though he knew you you still surprised him every day.

That was in the spring.

Everything about your life with Ford felt new, exciting, and perfect. You felt like your bond was stronger then ever, over the summer and fall. The perfect balance of cool and calculates and a fearless risktaker. You filled in for eachother where the other lacked completing eachother perfectly. Making your adventures flow smoothly.

Ford found himself thinking like this about you more often, stealing long looks at you when he thought you weren't looking. Standing closer to you, the trash in his room became filled with crumpled ink work of your likeness.

You had enjoyed the sudden burst of closeness you two had shared over the months you'd been in Oregon together it certainly didn't go as unnoticed as he had hopped it did.

He was a smart man, that was the one fundamental truth about himself no one could deny. But he was utterly clueless when it came to his own feelings

"Oooohwe you got it baaAAD don't you Stanford?" His face flushed at fiddlefords sudden outburst of excitement. "What are you talking about!?" He asked in a sharp hushed tone quickly averting his gaze from you only a few feet away.

"Standford I have known you almost ad long as you and y/n have been friends and I'm no expert but I do think I recognize how you look at them has changed."

"I pfft.. I wouldn't...that's my bestfriend-" He fumbled for his words face flushed a deeper red then before as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Mcgucket! Fordsie! I'm head up to bed for the night! Don't stay up too late." You chimmed in with a yawn.

"Hahah! Yes very good y/n! Very good get good rest for not let the gnomes bite! Ahaha" Ford blurted. You laughed as you continued up the steps.

Fiddleford laughed once where had va ished from sight. "I'm just making an observation...I'm not saying you lay awake at night thinking about her. But your secretis safe with me." Ford let out a sigh of relief at fiddlefors reasuring words they wherent up much longer before both retiring to their rooms. Stanford proceeded to lay in bed that night staring up at his ceiling.

"Oh no."

When the winter rolled around things began to change. All the good memories you had together seemed to suddenly get lost and where instead replaced with something bad.

You remember sitting next to fiddleford staring at your bestfriend fall asleep in the middle of the floor waiting for something to happen. "Do you think this is a good idea?"

You where the first tobask the question both of you had been thinking. "If this thing can offer Ford everything we need to know about starting up this portal...then I say the risk is worth it...right?"

You chewed on your inner cheek staring intently at the man on the floor.

Since the winter rolled around and Ford had met this mysterious "muse" You felt a sense of unease fall over the house, Ford had suddenly become distant always away with the being. "Are you jealous?" Fiddleford pipped up turning away from Ford.

"Jelous?" You chucked. "Of what? There's nothing to be jealous of! Or even a reason to be jealous! If Ford wants to abandon his friends for some interdemensinal being that he wont share much about or even introduce us then fine by me!" You huff out the words folding your arms over your chest.

Everything went downhill pretty fast or at least that's what your memory served, by the time you where ready for the first test of the portal all the way to fiddlefords accident with the machine your new exciting life unraveled before your eyes.

He wasn't functioning the way he used

"Fordsie...I think we need to take a break."

He was pacing infront of you rappedly tapping a pen against his temple. "We can't stop now! We are to close."

You frowned, he was different now no doubt this wasn't the same Ford you had be friened only a few years ago, this wasn't the same Ford you had grown to love. He was far more distant now, all the little things he thought went unnoticed by you completely stopped. He kept his distance now. He was losing sleep because of this now, if it wherent for you he wouldn't even be eating.

"Ford I'm serious! Fiddleford got hurt...I don't think it's a good idea to continue we need time to stop and clear our heads!"

"My head is clear y/n! With bill by my side I know we can-"

"STANFORD PINES."

Stan stopped in his tracks. It had been a while since you had referred to him like that. He turned to you watching you pinch the bridge of your nose. Since when did you look so tired? And where you...angry with him?

"Stanford our friend was hurt because of this , it's time to take a step back and to reevaluate before someone else gets hurt...we need to get out of this house...maybe out of gravity falls for a while."

Ford stared at you for a while and you stared back for some reason in only a few months it felt like the both of you where looking at strangers. You watched as the gears turned in Fords head before he spoke up.

"Your right."

You perked up at his words taken aback by them.

"I think it would be in our best intrest if we both went to see our families for some time."

Again you where surprised by the words that left his mouth. He'd never spoken to you about his family you had always assumed they wherent close. At the same time part of you hoped he'd want to vacation with you somewhere warm away from the snow. So place that would bring back the real Ford.

"OK, we can do that." You said offering a warm smile.

That night Ford helped you pack so you could catch the first bus out of gravity falls that morning, he promised he'd be leaving the next day.

It was quiet while he helped. He wasn't joking with you or excitedly retelling one of your adventures from the summer.

Your mind still kept wondering back to how this could be the same person. Maybe this was who Ford was all along and you where blinded by the thrill of adventure.

"Promise to write?" You asked

"I promise."

"I'll see you in a few weeks."

Still you knew things would be better when you both returned from a long over do break. You watched a bundled up Ford wave you goodbye from the snow as your bus pulled away and you sighed.

Ford frowned as he watched your bus drive into the distance. This was for the better right? He could see the worry and pain he had seemed to be causing you which was never his intention. He didn't want to lie to you just to get you away to take care of yourself but if that's what it took to do just that.

You eneded up returning when the snow had melted in gravity falls. You hadn't meant to be gone that long, your family had begged you to stay and your mother needed the help around the house, you had wrote Ford like you promised but it seemed like the mail was eating up your letters. Either way you had been well rested and eager to return to your friend and to work. You took a hopeful deep breath once your feet hit the gravity falls soil.

"StanFord!? Are you home yet!?" You shouted, pushing open the door to the house. You were met with silence.

"Fordsie!?" You stepped further in carefully. You noticed all of the science equipment and creatures you had collected over the past year or so had been moved and almost put on display. You heard a floorboard creek, and you stayed silent, pressing up again the wall by the door, ready to either surprise your friend or scare an enime.

The door swung open and a familiar face appeared yelling welding a baseball bat.

You screamed, falling back onto yours, butt. "FORD WAIT! WAIT, IT'S ME ITS Y/N!!!" You shouted, holding your hands up to shield yourself. He stopped yelling and lowered the bat. "Y/n?...."

"Yes, it's me. Please put the bat down!"

"What are you doing here?" He asked, placing the bat down and staring at you. "I live here with you, remember?"

The man seemed to stare at you like he was trying to figure out why he knew you. "Y/n! That's right!" He helped you up.

"I wasn't away for that long, was I fordsie?" You chuckled.

"Oh uh no no it's not that...uh come inside. we have some uh catching up to do.." You raised your eyebrow at him now, getting a better look at him. Something was off.

But you followed him to the kitchen, hoping your doubt and worry would wear off soon.

"Hey by the way...would you mind calling me stan from now on?"

[legobiwan]

This is such a telling page for Ford. Not only does he detail his social missteps and admit to being lonely in Gravity Falls, despite the scientific wonder of the place, but he also uses what I call "Fordese 2," a scrambled version of the "Fordese 1" code we were first introduced to in Journal 3 to label himself a "six-fingered freak" and to state that "Stanley would have made her laugh." (Her, being the waitress Ford tries out his nerdy science joke on, which goes down like a lead balloon despite the fact that it is legitimately funny, given the right audience).

It's like Bill says. "Ego of a king. The insecurity of a circus freak. And totally isolated..." (Funny enough, Bill could probably turn those exact words on himself, as well.)

Ford so wanted Gravity Falls to be the place where he'd finally fit in, the puzzle to his misshapen puzzle piece.

And as we see in the missing Journal pages from BoB, that was not to be the case. And worst of all? Ford blames it on his hands at first, but the reality is that he says that "Stanley could make her laugh," meaning Ford's "freakishness" (as he would put it) has less to do with his six fingers and much more to do with Ford's personality and the way he interacts with others.

This is actually worse. Fingers, you can fix, if you want to. By the time you're an adult, most people probably wouldn't care. But to Ford, his fingers seem to be more a manifestation of something internal, something he feels is fundamentally broken about him and that's just the absolute worst hell to be stuck in.

So yeah, it's hardly surprising Ford fell so hard for Bill's shenanigans (and you can define "fell so hard" however you want, although that karaoke page in BoB is especially damning). Here's an interdimensional being who not only can guide you to unlocking the secrets of the universe and propel you towards scientific fame and glory (and thus shoving every taunt, invective, side-eye, and eye roll ever hurled at you over the decades down your tormentors' throats) - but he's (on the surface) completely glib about being a freak himself.

For Ford, this must have been like finding a shady, sparkling oasis after thirty years of trawling through the desert (especially after Stanley's "betrayal" - Stanley, who along with Fiddleford, being the only person Ford felt like he could be himself around and still be accepted as a human being).

Now, is Bill trying way too hard to show how much he doesn't care? Uhhh, yeah. Bill has almost the same hangups as Ford. Labeled a freak for a genetic mutation and ostracized by his peers. Has a rare gift in that he can see not only into the third dimension but can see even past that, into possible dimensions and futures, which is a wild skill to have. Compare this with Ford's gigantic science brain and academic overachievement. Same deal. And not only this! Bill, in an attempt to prove what he can do with his "freakishness," to prove his worth and place in the universe - he tries to show off something to the denizens of his dimension (we don't know yet what Bill did), only to end up slaughtering his entire dimension. Ford was a hair's breath away from doing the exact same thing with the portal. Because we know from Journal 3 that part of his motivation is to be famous and get accolades for his work, and that maybe "girls will finally talk to me." (Which, Fordsy, let's be real here - I don't think you're actually into these "girls" for real, but you want the acceptance that comes with fitting in with societal standards, and getting a state-sanctioned girlfriend is exactly the type of thing Ford would want to make himself feel "normal.")

Anyway, the point being that if Ford had succeeded with his initial portal attempt, he would have basically wiped out his own dimension. Just. Like. Bill. And it makes you wonder - yeah, yeah, Bill wanted to party, Bill needed out of the Nightmare Realm, Bill's a psychopath who enjoys destruction.

But honestly? I think part it all was that Bill wanted someone like him. His own puzzle piece. Another monster. A being whose collateral damage in the quest to justify their existence in this universe ends in wholesale slaughter.

And Ford had the capacity to easily fit that mould.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

👁️⃤ Bill x Ford x reader headcanons

minors don’t interact

༄ Bill calls you “IQ’s little distraction”

༄ Bill loves to tease Ford about his preferences. “Oh, so you like it when she does that, huh, Sixer? well, you always were into the weird stuff.” 

Ford tries to ignore him, but you can tell Bill’s getting under his skin. Sometimes, when Ford’s especially worked up, he’ll respond back, gritting through his teeth, “Shut up, Bill, or I’ll—” 

But Bill cuts him off with a laugh. “You’ll what, Sixer? id love to see you try.”

༄ Bill has absolutely zero sense of boundaries. Like, none. You’ll be trying to have a moment of peace with Ford, just laying your head on his chest, his hand in your hair and Bill will appear out of nowhere. “Wow, Sixer, you look real cozy. Hope you don’t mind if I join— oh wait, I don’t care what you mind!”

Because Bill lives to make Ford suffer.

༄ Bill is constantly whispering the dirtiest things into Ford’s ear, especially when you’re around. You could be standing in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for yourself and Ford, and Bill will float beside Ford, murmuring, “She looks good, doesn’t she, Sixer? Bet you can’t wait to—” 

Ford immediately cuts him off, snapping, “Shut up.”

༄ Ford is always a mess when it comes to you. He’ll stumble over his words when he’s trying to say something sweet or get all flustered when you catch him staring at you. Bill loves to point it out too. “Oh, look at you, Sixer, so pathetic, just how I like ya.” Ford tries to brush it off, but you can see the faint blush on his cheeks every time.

༄ Ford tries to plan a romantic dinner at least once a month. Tries. Because Bill always crashes it. One time, he even possessed the waiter at the fancy restaurant you both went to. Ford didn’t notice until halfway through dessert when the waiter leaned over and said in Bill’s voice, “Enjoying the cake, Fordsy? hope you don’t choke on it!” Ford nearly did.

༄ Bill loves interrupting intimate moments. Anytime things start getting heated between you and Ford, Bill finds a way to make it weird. One time, Ford’s lips trailing down your neck to your collarbones, your hands gripping his shoulders, but with the corner of your eye, you saw Bill’s faint yellow glow in the room. Ford didn’t notice right away, continuing kissing and sucking on your skin, but the second you did, you pushed him back. “B-Bill’s watching.” you muttered awkwardly.

“What? Can’t a guy enjoy the view? You two are putting on quite the show!”

Ford practically growled, grabbing the nearest book off the nightstand and throwing it at Bill’s levitating form. 

༄ When you and Ford are eating, this damn triangle just can't calm down.

Ford groans, immediately looking up. “Bill, I swear, if you—”

“Didn’t think you’d get away that easy, did ya, Sixer?”

The lights blink out and Bill’s yellow triangle form appears right above the table.

“Ooh, candles? How romantic! What’s the occasion? Your last meal before death?

༄ Bill constantly steals Ford’s stuff. Research notes, pens, even his glasses. You’ll come into the room to see Ford anxiously searching for something, only for Bill to pop up, floating lazily in the air with Ford’s glasses. “Looking for these, IQ?”

༄ Ford writes in his journals about you sometimes, sketching your face in the margins with messy notes like, “her smile is distracting”, “must focus on the dimensional rift”, but you catch him sometimes, staring at the page for way too long before slamming the book shut when you ask about it.

༄ Bill teases Ford relentlessly about his age. “You’re still alive, huh? Good for you, Six Fingers! Still got all your teeth?” Ford just glances at him like he's seriously considering whether to fight or not. In most cases, he doesn’t.

༄ Ford is not always good at showing affection, but sometimes you wake up with Ford’s arms wrapped tightly around you, his body curled into yours like he’s hiding you from the world, his face buried in your hair.

༄ Ford’s sitting at his desk, hunched over some kind of cryptic manuscript, muttering to himself. You’re lounging on the bed nearby, half-listening, when Bill suddenly materializes out of air, hovering right over Ford’s shoulder.

“You missed a line, Sixer! And that equation? hmm, totally wrong.”

Ford doesn’t even look up, just lets out a frustrated sigh. “Go away, Bill.”

“What? I’m trying to help! This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You need me, admi—“

Ford slams his pen down, spinning around to face Bill. “The only thing I need is for you to leave me alone.”

Bill’s eye narrows. “Can we talk, pretty please?”

Ford doesn’t respond, his glare doing all the talking for him. Just not again. And more than all, not when you’re around.

༄ It’s late and Ford’s already fallen asleep beside you, his arm rests across your waist. You’re awake though, staring at the ceiling, mind racing with thoughts about. . . You don’t want to name that. It’s quiet until—

“Awww, look at that old man. So cute when he sleeps, huh?”

You sigh, turning your head slightly. Bill’s floating in the air, glowing as he speaks. “Bet he couldn’t keep up with ya, could he? Poor guy’s probably gonna need a cane soon.”

You roll your eyes.

“Come on, baby, why do you need him? Leave this old man to me, I know exactly how to take care of him.”

Only if, in Bill's understanding, hitting a person's head against a wall can be called care. 

but Bill keeps going. “y’know, you could be having a lot more fun if you ditched the nerd.”

༄ Ford tries to teach you about all the different dimensions he’s been to. He’ll pull out these ancient-looking charts, pointing at interdimensional pathways and explaining them in painstaking detail. You just nod and blink, but half the time, you’re just watching the way his hands move or the way his voice softens when he gets really excited about some fact or thing. Sometimes, you’ll lean in and kiss him just to make him pause, just to see that little flustered smile that creeps onto his face when he realizes he’s rambling again

༄ You know those quiet nights where it’s just you and Ford, snuggled up under the stars, everything peaceful for once? Bill hates that. He can’t stand the silence. He’ll show up, glowing bright as ever and start blasting some weird, otherworldly music from whatever dimension he’s been in. Ford’s patience is already thin and after the third or fourth time Bill crashes the mood, Ford practically yells at him to fuck off. You, on the other hand, can't stop laughing.

༄ Bill loves messing with Ford’s coffee in the morning. Because Stanford has his whole routine, wake up, brew a fresh pot, pour a cup, add just the right amount of sugar. But Bill ruins it. Every time. One morning, Ford took a sip and immediately spit it out, glaring at the cup. You didn’t even need to ask. 

“Bill.” 

“Hope you like your salt with a side of caffeine, Sixer!

༄ Bill can get really handsy when he’s in control of Ford’s body. It's a real entertainment for him, feeling Ford’s frustration as he takes liberties, running his hands over you in ways Ford would never dare. “Oh, come on, Sixer, relax. You’re so uptight.” Ford is fuming, but it’s not like he can stop it. Bill leans closer to you, whispering in Ford’s voice. “Bet you like this better, don’t ya, doll?”

༄ Ford tries to give you a normal day sometimes, without any interdimensional nonsense or Bill’s interruptions. It usually lasts about five minutes before Bill pops in with some sarcastic comment or weird fact about some dimension neither of you cares about. Ford grits his teeth, muttering something about wishing he could just get five minutes of peace. You’re just used to it by now.

༄ Ford pretends he isn’t jealous when Bill flirts with you, but you can tell by the way his hand tightens around yours when Bill materialises in the room. Ford says it’s nothing, but then he’s pulling you closer, glaring at Bill.

༄ Bill’s a creepy little bastard who likes to float inches away from your face, his single eye blinking too slowly. You tell him to fuck off. He does. For ten seconds. Then he’s back, upside down this time, asking why Ford hasn’t kissed you yet today. He hopes you two will break up?

༄ Ford’s hands are huge and you always feel tiny when he wraps them around your waist. Bill makes weird comments about Ford having six fingers and how "it could be useful for so many things, don’t you think?" Ford doesn’t know whether to laugh or cringe. That’s just awkward.

༄ Ford kisses you like he’s solving a problem, taking his time, all intense and focused, his lips mapping out every curve of your mouth like he’s studying it. Bill interrupts by floating in and asking, “Wow, are you gonna write a dissertation on that, Sixer?”

༄ Bill has absolutely tried to possess Ford while he’s with you. You’ve learned to spot the signs: Ford’s eyes glowing just a bit too much, his voice having that eerie echo. You have a spray bottle ready now. “NO, Bill. BAD DEMON.” It works. Sometimes.

༄ Bill once tried to show you visions of all possible realities, like, “Hey, wanna see how the universe ends?” You told him to go fuck himself. Now he keeps showing you weird alternate versions of Ford where he’s a pirate, a robot or a cowboy. Bill insists this is "important research."

༄ Sometimes when Ford will just be lying in bed, and Bill will pop in like it’s the most natural thing in the world, floating above him. “What’s the matter, Sixer? Trouble sleeping? I know a thing or two about nightmares!” Bill laughs, but Ford turns away, pulling the blanket over his head like that’s going to stop a literal demon. It never works. Bill stays, talking until Ford either gives up on sleeping entirely or throws a pillow through him in frustration.

༄ Ford always gets lost in his work and you have to drag him away from his research to eat, sleep, or, you know, be a human. Bill offers to "fix" this by “removing” Ford’s need for sleep. You kindly suggest Bill remove himself from existence instead.

༄ You found one of Ford’s journals full of sketches of Bill, with little notes about weaknesses and possible ways to destroy him. One page, with drops of blood on it, just had “FUCK YOU, CIPHER” written over and over. Ford insists it was an experiment. 

༄ Ford gets insecure a lot, especially after everything that happened with Bill. He’ll pull away, like he’s afraid to get too close. You have to remind him that he’s not alone anymore, that he doesn’t have to carry everything on his shoulders. Bill, of course, loves to swoop in during those vulnerable moments, whispering how fun it was to watch Ford break.

༄ Bill absolutely reads Ford’s journal when he’s not looking. He’s stolen a few pages too. Once, he asked you if you wanted to see what Ford wrote about you.

༄ Ford, surprisingly, can be rough and dominant sometimes. His normally gentle side disappears when you get him riled up, and soon enough, he’s pinning you against a wall as he mutters in your mouth, “You’re mine, understand?” 

Bill, ever the asshole, floats by with a sing-songy, “Ooh, Sixer’s got a dark side, huh? Fucking hot.” 

༄ Bill, in all his chaotic glory, shows up at your door with a gift — a jar containing what looks like a preserved monster eyeball. He insists it’s a “conversation starter” and jokes about “keeping an eye on things.” You freak out, but Ford looks like he’s used to it.

༄ It’s not just Ford who gets jealous; Bill throws tantrums when he sees you and Ford getting too close. One time, he sulked in the corner, muttering about “human emotions” while eyeing you both, his form turning red.

༄ Sometimes you wake up to Bill floating above you in a dream, whispering, “interesting fact! did you know I could bend reality just to keep you awake all night?” there you wake up screaming, while Ford, half-asleep, grumbles about needing to “banish that triangle for good.”

༄ You know that Ford is obsessed with his research and you love to stay up late, sitting on the floor next to him, watching him scribble furiously in his journals. He looks so cute when he’s all focused and excited. But there’s always that moment when you catch him staring at you instead of the pages. 

You smirk, “are you going to take notes on how beautiful I am?” Ford stutters, not knowing what to say, but you see a smile on his face. 

༄ Ford’s hands grips your waist, holding you against him while his lips slide down your neck, showering kisses, making you gasp softly, your fingers in his hair. But just when things are about to get real, Bill pops in with a, “Geez, Sixer, are you gonna bore her to death with foreplay or what?”

༄ And of course, let's not forget about the usual, “Doll, you sure you’re satisfied with this? nerds aren’t exactly known for their stamina, if you know what I mean!”

Ford doesn't want you to know how Bill knows this.

[hamsternella]

maybe headcanons of Bill Cipher being obsessed with us for being Ford's wife, but at first he feels jealous and gradually that changes as he finds we have equal things (e.g. we are blind, and that makes Bill start to want to get more intimate with us as he has with Ford because he finds that we have also been despised/put aside because of that difference), and maybe he wants to make a deal with us but we refuse out of loyalty to Ford and that makes Bill jealous- but now of Ford, not of us lmao sorry if that is confusing or too specific.

Are you going to write any Gravity Falls fanfic on the side? I've seen your poll and I'm very excited

HELLO, and no problem. Here it is, I hope you like it.

As for the fanfic, I do plan to write one. Actually, it's in drafts; I just need to correct what I have written. I don't know if I should make it long or cut it and put it in chapters.

PART TWO

Bill Cipher being obsessed with you [headcanon]

cw: fem!reader, non-con touching, possessed body, jealousy, maybe a bit of ooc(?

The reason Bill begins to feel his plan is threatened is because of you. As much as Ford has him on a pedestal, you are still the main reason for his early accomplishments. The special person who has been with him since his college discovery years.

You're not like McGucket; your judgment carries paramount weight in Ford's most decisive decisions. You're not a mentally dazzling woman, not like him, but your claws keep you firmly entrenched behind Sixer's back. Bill repudiates that—it makes no sense at all!

As if that weren't enough, the affair culminates with you being blind. Can there be anything much more repugnant than a romance fueled by misfortune? Ford is drawn to your sincere heart, and you support him unconditionally because beyond your husband's obsession, your love for him seems to break down the most terrifying walls. And how can you be afraid of something you can no longer see?

Bill feels he has the enemy breathing behind his back. For the first time he thinks he can't solve everything with a kick to the rock in the middle of the road.

The closest thing to a tantrum you get from him —unknowingly— are regular nightmares, a weak body and constant paranoia about unfamiliar sounds and sensations. Your home is suddenly a new world; frightening and strange. Because of this you become clumsy and unpredictable, and even your husband doesn't understand what it is that has you so off track.

Bill can't use his influence on your reality at all, but through Ford and other extensions, as well as fine print manipulations, he manages to reach you without arousing suspicion.

''I've told you many times, Bill,'' sighed Ford with his back turned, both hands placed on his journal. ''I don't think I can go through with this completely until I manage to find a way to help my wife.''

''Isn't this a sign that it's time to get her out of your way?''

"Excuse me?’’ The man turned his attention to the demon; his eyes laden with bitterness and desolation. ''What do you mean by that? I can't abandon my wife, Cipher—she would never do something like that to me.''

''Well,'' Bill chuckled, ''it's not like she's really done anything for you all this time. This project is our thing, Fordsy, and it shouldn't be interrupted by a little stumble that doesn't even belong to us. Or are you going to give up everything you've sacrificed for this?''

''You have understood me like no other, Bill; I admit that there is no person or creature existing on this planet who can do all that you have done for me,'' admitted Ford solemnly. ''But she's my wife—she's been around even before you, when I was nobody. When I had nothing. And even when I came to Gravity Falls and left everything behind she was always there. Bill, I... I can't, I'm sorry.''

Bill held back another complaint, beginning to notice that things were not working out the way he had wanted. Your clumsiness didn't kill Ford's patience or control, but what little sanity —if any— there was in him. It was humiliating; Bill Cipher losing to a human being, a random woman—blind, to make it worse.

The demon was beginning to withdraw in on himself, frustration rising to anger, when Ford's voice from the entrance to the room drew his gaze back. There was a different gleam in his companion's, and Cipher understood with annoyance where the conversation would end up now.

Your husband introduces you to the possible solution to all your problems: Mr. Cipher, a doctor and close friend of Stanford. A mysterious man with a booming voice that makes your hair stand on end, but at the end of the day a man of studies and degrees. Of course you were going to trust your husband's recommendation.

''What a coincidence that you happened to be passing by, sir! Thank you for offering to help me. That's very kind of you.''

Bill starts pretending to be your personal doctor in search of a miracle solution to your problems. It's not hard to avoid contact with you to hide the truth; Ford tries hard to keep the situation straight.

If the demon hated you before, now you better start praying.

Cipher understands that he needs to play along with Ford if he wants the project to stay on track, even if that means starting to help you heal while containing his desire to get rid of you.

Maybe if he possessed Stanford and took advantage of you during your naps.

Maybe.

But he knows better than that—Ford isn't stupid. Not stupid enough, at least.

It was humiliating to have to take care of what he himself had caused, but it's not as if Bill could afford any other way to get back on the project. Ford was all he had. Where was he going to get someone else capable enough? This had been fate; interrupted at the last minute by the appearance of a bad third. This was all your fault. Blind little rat—woman busybody with a sweet smile and giggly voice. Cipher understood why Sixer was where he was with you, on the one hand. On the other it was all the same: a whim that cost dearly. Who needed someone like you? What was the benefit? Sex, maybe? But Bill Cipher was a thousand times better than something so banal! Please…

Bill rolled his eye, snapping his fingers to undo the nightmare you were in. As soon as your dream was undone you let out an exclamation of surprise, jumping on the bed. You brought a hand to your face, feeling the sweat, and almost immediately moved your body to where he lay. Cipher held back surprise, finding himself genuinely intrigued.

''Doctor,'' you whispered hoarsely, ''good afternoon. I... Forgive me, I think I fell asleep—it was sudden, I don't know what came over me...''

''Did you know it was me here with you?''

The smile you gave him threw him off. A ''Well, yes, isn't it very obvious?'' kind of grimace.

''Does your husband know that you have these nightmares during our therapies?''

'Therapies' sounded fancy, but it was shorthand for the tortures Bill forced you to go through; a theater of supposed recovery to cover up his need to hurt you.

“He doesn't know, doctor. I haven't told him, if I'm honest,'' you replied. ''Please don't tell him anything.''

''It would be unethical!''

‘’Pretending to be a doctor is also unethical, sir,’’ you laughed. ''I am blind, not stupid.’’

Killing you was going to be the only solution to all of this—although from that day on nothing else ever happened.

Bill has to accept that you have a lot of tricks up your sleeve. You're not just any woman anymore; being Ford's wife had to have been warning enough for him.

You continue to not remind him of his charade and allow him to continue 'treating' you, while your husband resumes the plans for the portal.

Surprisingly, Bill seems to have found interest in something much more striking.

You.

The nightmares subside, your mood and judgment improve, and Cipher finds a strange pleasure in this new side of you: much more alert, more talkative and wittier. You have your charm.

But it's your husband who pulls the reins. Bill gets it right away.

Evenings with you aren't exactly revelatory like they are with Ford, who always has enough data and information to surprise everyone with. With you it's different; it's something much more intimate and almost forgotten by Bill. He knows so much that it would be impossible to be taken by surprise—but you manage to do it.

He is overcome with a nostalgic and unpleasant feeling, but which ironically keeps him alive as he decides to lie to Ford.

Bill doesn't want to let you go. It's strange. Maybe he got used to another glaring presence besides Sixer? Torturing you a little more in silence to keep you under his care should not be a stupid thing to do at all.

Cipher encounters another particular feeling: curiosity. He needs to know why you know what you know; and what it is, above all else, that keeps you here.

What keeps you with so much power over him, Bill Cipher.

''Are you saying that I have tricks up my sleeve? I don't get it, doctor...''

''Oh! Oh, please,'' Bill interrupted, thunderous laughter bouncing across the room. ''You know I'm no doctor; the title is ridiculous.''

''Should I call you 'Mr. Cipher' instead?''

Bill held back a sigh, rubbing his eye for a moment before orbiting around you. If you had noticed, you didn't say or do anything. Your eyes, white as opaque pearls, remained fixed on a corner of the room.

''Since when did you know I wasn't a doctor? No, better yet, since when did you know I wasn't human?''

''Well, it's not quite like that either,'' you replied under a soft laugh. ''You just revealed to me that you are not human. As for the doctor thing... Well, don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think that dream therapies and transverse snoring with citrus scent induction while dipping my feet in spoiled milk is something a professional would recommend.''

Bill pretended not to be offended.

''Besides that,'' you continued, ''I know my husband very well. I know that he hides dangerous things down there, where I cannot reach by myself, just as I know everything that has been happening is not the product of chance.''

''Did you know all this time that your nightmares and fears have been my doing?''

‘’No, not really. You just confessed it to me.''

‘’Oh, come on!’’ Bill shook his fists in the air, abruptly remembering that you couldn't see him. It was strange, you seemed to know the world you inhabited even though your eyes wouldn't let you. The thought made the demon orbit around you again, returning in front of you. Opaque pearls; gaze lost in the open. "I've had a majestic revelation at this very moment! Do you want to hear it, or will your big, bold woman brain let you know in advance what I have to say?”

"I have a slight feeling you don't like me.”

“Yes or no!”

“Of course, tell me.”

"I have to assume you weren't born blind; this must be the product of an accident," Cipher began to say. "That would explain why the hell you do everything you do, and why the fuck you know where I am.”

"That's right, Mr. Cipher," you nodded. "I've had an accident, though I suppose you know that because you've infiltrated me. Either that, or my husband told you.”

"So you did know that I'm a demon?”

“You just—”

“Oh, shut up! Don't fucking say it again.”

Your coexistence with Bill becomes pleasant, despite the early revelation of his nature and his having been the cause of your misfortunes.

Cipher comes to believe that he may have been wrong; maybe you were stupid after all.

But that would be crazy! Unlike with Ford, with you the feelings are extremely nostalgic and warm. There is no trace of some kind of farce or genuine morbid interest behind your words. You believe everything you say.

Bill, who despite not sleeping or dreaming, being haunted by the memory of screams and an old distorted and flat reality, finds in your company a comfort zone that makes him delirious.

Sadly, your heart and your judgment is still tied to Sixer—as if that brainiac cared at all!

Bill begins to drive Ford crazy; he feeds him extensive knowledge, possesses him more often to enjoy the benefits, and then alters his memories, making it difficult for him to know what is truth and what is a lie.

Where he can no longer meet your needs, Bill is always there to dazzle you.

You jumped in your seat, feeling your husband's warm hands wrap around your neck. Fingers, rough from machines and dust, caressed your skin awkwardly, drawing a chuckle from you. His breath came to you from above, as if he had just sighed in delight at your reaction. When you felt him rest his hands on your shoulders, you slowly brought one of yours to caress the back of his. You felt him tremble.

''I thought you were sleeping?'' you asked with genuine interest. ''Is everything all right? All these days you've been doing the same thing.''

''Do you mind, beautiful?''

You stifled a laugh.

''No, Ford, your company would never be a bother to me... Are you smelling my hair?''

‘’I just can’t get enough of you.’’

You felt him circle your body, delineating one of the chairs near you so he could relax his body in it. You didn't last long without his hands—as soon as he resumed his seat, you felt his fingers intertwining with yours. This time it was more consistent and comfortable; not like all those days where it seemed like your husband had forgotten how to use his own body.

''Oh, dear! Seeing you with these two orbs of nerves and membrane is amazing! You look even more dazzling.''

Although the comments without any context or sense were still there.

''I'm not that great,'' you said with a small laugh. A little shy. Ford didn't used to give you so many compliments. “How's your project going?’’

‘’That thing? Good, very good. Excellent, my dear! Maybe you could see for yourself—oh, well, you can't,'' he guffawed. ''Right. Whatever! Hey, uh, can I ask you a question?''

‘’Y-Yeah, sure, honey.’’ You cleared your throat. ‘’What’s the matter?’’

''Hypothetical scenario. You're married, but you're not quite fulfilled. Suppose someone comes along who is much better than your husband,'' he explained. ''He's smart, funny, multifunctional, powerful, extra-dimensional, or very soon will be, and also very stylish!'' Silence. Moments later an exclamation. ''Do you have a favorite color? His favorite color is yellow!''

‘’I… I mean, sorry, but I actually don’t understand at all where’s the question.’’

‘’Don’t be silly! Would you leave your husband for this entity—excuse me, for this person?''

‘’What?’’

‘’The heck.’’

Another booming laugh, and though you tried to accompany it with your own, the sound that came from you was choppy and awkward. This exchange was strange.

''I can't find a reason to leave my husband for this so-called mystery person,'' you replied. ''I am supposed to have married him for a reason which should be more than enough. Ford,'' you rushed on, ''is this regarding Mr. Cipher?''

''Why?'' he asked at once. ''Why do you think of him all of a sudden? Do you feel something forbidden about him in this marriage?''

''But of course not!''

''What do you mean ‘no’?!’’

His hands let go of yours. The chair in front of you seemed to be dragged, the wood against the floor squeaking with the sudden friction. The movement had taken you by surprise.

‘’Ford?’’

''Why are you so happy? Why, huh?'' he sighed, frustrated. ''Haven't I abandoned you every night in a freezing bed, while I prefer the company of machines? Cipher has been very kind to you and kept you company!''

''Ford, what are you—wait. Wait a moment... Bill, is this you?'' You covered your mouth, terrified at the discovery. Your companion didn't respond and you simply let out a shaky breath. ''Are you possessing my husband?’’

‘’Damn, that was fast.’’

‘’That’s awful!’’

"There was full consent!" added Bill with a chuckle. "This is a man-to-man thing, my pretty little fleshbag. Something between colleagues, plain and simple. You needn't fear—Bill Cipher is taking care of everything.”

"But it's horrendous anyway!" you exclaimed with your voice splitting. "It all makes sense now... The words, the touches, the way you acted—it was all a sham! You were using my husband!”

"Oh, please, little one. Wasn't it you who dreamed of being able to touch me?”

"You, not a substitute class using Stanford's body! Have you two been doing these kinds of exchanges all along?”

"It's just that there was a change of plans!”

“A change? What—”

“I mean, I tried to kill you; but it's not that easy now,” he laughed.

You tried to calm your breathing. Your heart was beating painfully against your chest, and your whole body was trembling. This wasn't right, obviously. It was like a vivid nightmare.

“Not that I want to do it, of course.”

“Why?” you asked after a long silence.

You felt the presence of your husband's body very close to you. A pair of hands rested on your cheeks, caressing them with his fingers very softly; the touches getting lost under the trembling of your figure when you heard again a sigh of delight. Something was up.

“You know,” he whispered, “I think we could make a deal. A little, pretty one, and just for you.”

“A deal? A deal with a demon, you mean. No, thank you.”

“Oh, come on! It will be fun!”

“And it makes no sense.”

Bill turned away from you, returning to his chair to take a seat across from your body.

"What exactly is it that Ford gives you that I can't manage to satisfy? Because very soon the little project will be complete, and I will have full disposal of many wonderful tricks to take care of you, my dear," he continued. "An eternity together! We'll be able to create and tell thousands of new stories; to travel across the world and let you experience hundreds of new sensations. We'll be unstoppable! Incomparable!”

"That's not the way things work, Bill…”

"Things work because of the strongest. I will soon be the only one with that title.”

"What will happen to Ford?" you asked haltingly. "What will you do to my husband?”

"He's my co-worker, dear.”

"You're hiding something from me.”

"So what if it is? He doesn't matter here! It's our time... You're mine.”

The way your husband's voice was beginning to distort sent a shiver through your body. You loved Ford—you missed him. The idea that you had been kissing the lips of a man possessed a couple of days ago was turning your stomach. Your silence seemed to feed something inside the demon; his voice thundered, totally changed, across the room.

"A few weeks ago you said you missed the stars," added Bill. "The last time you saw them was when you were a teenager. I miss the stars too—the ones I saw with a different eye. It's not the same anymore. Nothing is, since..." Silence. You didn't dare interrupt the creature who seemed to be drowning in bitter memory. It took him a while to pull himself together; a split laugh piercing your ears like an arrow. "Oh, the misery! I thought it repulsive the way you two looked so united over something so pathetic. Anyway, what does the past matter now, what does misery matter! There's no such thing being with Bill Cipher. You'll want for nothing.”

"I refuse, Bill.”

"And I refuse too," he laughed. "See? We can play the same game, silly. I don't recommend testing my patience, though.”

The touch of palms against the warm skin of your neck took you by surprise. The roughness of those fingers you loved so much were now forbidding you to breathe; the softness of moist lips pressing against yours, taking advantage of the way you parted yours to find a sliver of air. You soon struggled against your husband's body, desperate to deny the foreign tongue that flicked unseemly and inexperienced inside you. Bill was drowning in an unfamiliar feeling that felt too good. You were soft, fragile. Your flesh was tender and warm, quivering like an animal about to die—he was going to devour it to the bone. Was this what Ford had been doing with you? You liked it?

He could kill you. He could end your life when the portal was complete; he could take advantage of Ford, as he had been doing all this time, and keep the prize all to himself. Why was it so hard? What was it you had done to him? Was Ford a victim too? The thought burned like a fierce fury at the back of his mind—jealousy once again. The need to own even the crumbs. Ford wouldn't have the right to be your victim anymore. This feeling was too good for that brainiac to understand, surely he never did.

But Bill understood everything. He was incomparable. He could dominate your life and hold the reins as well as Ford had been doing. No. Cipher was going to do better! Did you miss your husband's domination? Bill would be your ruler; he would destroy obstacles and build better ones to keep you in check. Maybe a little training and you'd become a beautiful little bag of flesh and muscle—tight, warm and obedient. And who knows if you'd end up exceeding his expectations! Who knows if a little gift occupying your orbs would give you the chance to enjoy the same star-studded sky together.

"Don't think too much," whispered Bill pantingly. "There's plenty of other things to do than something as dull as that. Don't worry your pretty little head.”

You shook your head, surrendered to crying. Your husband's hands had left your neck, but now they wrapped around your wet cheeks, offering shy caresses.

"From now on you're going to use it when I say so. Everything will be that way, and you know why?”

A crooked laugh vibrated against his chest, reaching you through his hands.

"Because now you will be my new pet. A special one! The best of them all… You could say ‘muse’, even. Isn't that beautiful, dear?”

A cold kiss. The last one.

“Aren't you, above all, beautiful too?”

[miltonthoughts]

Hiii I don't know if your request are open or not (if so feel free to say no to this reques.)

Can we have some Standford pines x wife/husband reader reader (whichever you feel comfortable with) getting possessed by bill during the weirdmagedon ?.

Hope this isn't too much.

A/N: Hi!! Wow this is my first request! And my asks/request are always open don’t worry! I was actually excited to write this, hope you like it!

-

Stanford stood his ground, refusing Bill's offers, threats, and demands for his knowledge. He knew better.

Left alone in Bill's throne room, Stanford heard the screams and chaos emanating outside Bill’s palace. He had lost track of time during his captivity, which made him feel antsy.

He only hoped his family was safe. Stanley, Mabel, Dipper, and his beloved partner, you.

He was worried about you, as the last time Ford saw you was when you were at the Mystery Shack doing chores, unaware that the apocalyptic Weirdmageddon was about to occur.

He closed his eyes and whispered to himself to wish you were safe and not in Bill’s sights.

“Ford..?”

Amidst his silent prayers, a familiar voice called out his name, causing Ford to open his eyes and lift his gaze from his restraints. To his disbelief, it was you! "Y/N?" he exclaimed in disbelief. You appeared battered and worn, but seeing you safe filled him with immense relief.

“Ford—! You’re alive..!” You beamed before rushing towards him and enveloping him in a tight hug. Ford reciprocated back, and the tensity from before lessened.

“Y/N..You’re okay..” He sighed softly as he held you tightly. You had his hands tightly before looking up at him.

“Oh, sixer…You're still as naive as you were 30 years ago..” Venom laced in your tone of voice, Ford froze. He quickly pushed you away from him as your pupils changed to a black slit while your white sclera turned yellow.

Bill.

No. No, No, No—!

“Bill—! Unhand them you fiend!” Ford roared in anger, Bill simply laughed in response. “Awe, come on Fordsy, I thought you liked the new look of your so-called..beloved,” Bill soon pulled a chain harshly that was connected to Ford’s neck, unbearably close to Bill's face.

Well, your face.

“They were so easy to manipulate, y'know? They thought I would surrender to them and give you back? Pathetic.” He taunted Ford while he tried to push Bill away from him, at least giving him some space but Bill wouldn’t budge.

“What’s the matter Sixer? I thought you liked Y/N being this close to you,” Bill purred. Relishing in Ford's distraught manner to see his wedded partner being possessed by him.

Now, Bill was confident that he had gained complete control over Ford and could easily manipulate him to his advantage.

-

Part II

This is what I could write off at the moment! Sorry if it’s short, I recently just got a fever and I been off from writing for a while :’)

[doritodemon13]

First of all, I'll pretend like that didn't hurt my feelings.

Secondly, I finally got kicked out from the group therapy circle after calling someone a whiney bitch, so the good luck wishes are worthless.

But I'm impressed. Did you really just surrender to build a second portal?

(Just for meeeee? Awwww)

And don't worry about Stanley. He will soon not be your or anyone's problem anymore, you know that I have contacts.

(You may also start to watch over Pine tree. I really liked to be the host of his body…)

You're right, we did have fun, but that is all in the past. Just so you know – something you should have forgotten by now.

Also STALKING MY FAMILY???? WHAT?

Oh, dont be silly, sixer.

I'm definitely not the only one here who wants to go back to our chess games in the dreamscape and how you may call it our "partnership."

Sure, I wasn't nice to your assistant and haunted him in his sleep with nightmares till he left…

(Hahahaha, but it was totally worth it)

don't you remember karaoke night?

Did it mean nothing to you?

(I don't remember a lot of it, but the parts I remember were great)

We were so happy there…

…Why should I forget that?

And about the stalking your family situation…

(I would recommend that you look after Stanley, I mean, you don't want something bad happening to him… right Stanford?)

[0law]

🎶💘🎶💕💕✨

Oh, Fordsy, you are so drunk that your thoughts bounce like a loud echo in my head….. You plucked up the courage for this issue after several minutes. Let's count your steps, simple, but lovely.

1.You'll look sideways at me to check if the time is right.

2.You'll pretend that karaoke fatigue and drinking are getting the better of you, hoping I'll take you in my arms.

You'll awkwardly try to find my face. Oops, you're clumsier than you expected yourself.

4.You'd kiss me until you expect a response from me; you wanted this so badly.

And I, well, I'll play along.

Wait, it's strange, I feel strange. I was only supposed to play with him, because his kiss and touch make me feel out of place.

I won't overthink it. We're drunk and we're playing, at least I am. I like you six fingers, but you don't drive me crazy.

…damn it… stupid Sixer…

No, No, No!! Maybe this feeling is temporary.

God, I didn't think I could get a hangover from a dream, I even think I fell unconscious…that sounds absurd….. I'll write before my head falls off my shoulders. What about my diary?

[gay-dorito-dust]

I JUST SAW YOUR ONE WITH BILL POSSESSING READER AND OMG, adding onto bill possessing the reader and pushing them into the portal, can you do one where readers just like "fuck it, if I betrayed him and everyone thinks that might as well" and joins bill, I just think k it would be a cool concept, especially if Ford realizes way too late that reader was innocent.

I’m combining these who requests cuz they are practically the same.

Bill came to you the night after Ford had kicked you out of the shack in the form of a dream.

You didn’t even need to see him to know it was him, there was signs and the obvious one was when the birch trees opened their eyes to stare at you. ‘Bill.’ You said calmly.

‘My favourite fleshbag!’ Bill replied as he hovered in front of you, tipping his top hat towards you but you only looked at him blankly, having had your heart ripped out of your chest mere moments ago, that nothing was left from the encounter other then a dull ache where your heart should’ve been.

‘Hope you’re happy because I’m despised for the things YOU DID AS ME!’ You roared as you grabbed ahold of Bill with your bare hands and bringing him close to your face so that he could see the hurt, the betrayal; but most importantly the angry balding within your eyes so clearly like star constellations on a cloudless night.

‘And they didn’t let you explain? Not even mr logistics himself fordsy?’ Bill asked, finding this really heard to believe as your reality, but the way your eyes became sharp as steel at the mention of Ford’s name only made Bill start to believe that the nerd could’ve done something so heartless. ‘Oh you poor flesh bag.’ He coos as he pats your face with his small hand. ‘I knew I could smell the desire for revenge from dimensions away.’ He adds and you push him away, scoffing as you brought your attention to the landscape that your mind took; a serene forest with fairy lights hung from the branches high about you with the sound of frogs croaking and crickets to accompany the perpetual drizzle of light rainfall.

It was a weird place for you to be, especially with what you went through just moments prior, it felt too calm for a reflection of your current mental state and Bill noticed this abnormality too. You went through the biggest betrayal of your life and your dreamscape was barely affected by the reality you lived in, how fascinating. ‘I don’t want revenge.’ You said to Bill.

‘Are you sure? They didn’t even give you room to explain yourself, they took it at face value and tossed you aside like you were nothing.’ Bill said as he watched your face for every possible expressing he could get out of you. ‘Ford didn’t value you, neither did Stanley so why bother keeping your loyalties to men who don’t see your worth, nor value your loyalty that you’ve given them as they curse your name because they didn’t think you’d do anything in retaliation. Think about it getting even with them while dropping the truth on them will be a spectacle for the ages.’ Bill finishes as he leans towards you while whispering promises into your ears.

You let bill into your head once and you promised that you wouldn’t ever again, you’ve learnt your lesson but you were lost within your emotions, your grief of your friendship with Ford as you allowed him to shatter your last hope for someone to take your side in this long winded argument. That and Bill’s whispers of revenge and getting your own back at the old men has you succumbing to thoughts you’d never thought you were comfortable of thinking so freely as you did in that moment.

‘You promise to make their lives hell?’ You asked.

‘You’re not the only one they’ve wronged. I’ve dedicated my long life to seeing them helpless as I destroy their everything.’ Bill replied as he stuck out his hand, blue flames licking at his palms as it illuminated the dark forest and yourselves. ‘There’s no point denying it kid, you and I? We’re more alike than you think. We both wanna see lesser Sixer and Sixer eat dirt for what they’ve done to us, so let’s make that a reality partner.’ He adds.

-mini skip-

‘We need to wait for my partner, I can’t start torturing you all without them, I kinda promised them a front row seat to your demise.’ Bill said as he caged up Stan, Ford, Dipper and Mabel into their respective prisons.

‘You? A partner? You said it yourself Bill you don’t do partners!’ Ford replied sarcastically but something within him told him that something was wrong.

Bill laughed as he waved his hand. ‘Things change Stanford, and besides me and this person have more in common then I originally imagined when I first possessed them.’ He mentions off handedly as the doors open and the Pines Family saw a familiar figure come into the light, dressed in a dark suit/dress with eyes patterned across it as though to show that no corner of the room went unseen by this person; this person being you as you stopped by Bill’s side.

‘Y/n?’ Ford whispered.

You looked at him with a blank look. ‘Hello Stanford. Having fun in your little cage?’ You asked.

‘Y/n please tell me this isn’t true, that you’re working with Bill?’ Ford pressed on as he fought hard to suspended his disbelief for your sake and for the sake that this was all a horrid dream that he’d soon wake up from.

You shrugged. ‘Like he said, we’re more alike than he originally imagined when he first possessed me into pushing you into the portal.’

The family gasped.

‘He possessed you?’ Dipper asked.

‘This whole time…’ Stanley trailed off.

‘You were being used against your will,’ Ford continued as he realised that his and Stan’s treatment of you was unjust and unwarranted, ‘and now you’re working with him…why you’re my assistant!’ He adds knowing that Bill was using you against him once again.

‘Oh don’t get all jealous that your partner has found someone better fordsy.’ Bill said as he puts a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it possessively. ‘Besides they just found someone better to spend eternity with.’ Bill adds as Ford could only sit in the realisation that if he had let you speak instead of assume the worst of you, then maybe you’d still be by his side, happy.

But he failed you as much as he failed his brother and Fiddleford. Ford had no one to blame but himself and it’ll be something he’d have to live with for the rest of his life, assuming he should live that long after you and Bill we’re through with him.

[cosmicdahlias]

Take Me Under

a ford x reader fic

MINORS DNI

Bill knows Ford likes you and makes him drug you while possessed. After a short internal struggle of morals, he decides to take advantage of you.

warnings: NONCON, drugging, somnophilia, oral, smut

so this is a spiritual successor to my last fic, it’s not a continuation but the themes are similar

It was a warm summer night in Gravity Falls. The crickets chirped as you sat out on the porch with your research partner, Stanford Pines. You nursed your glass of whiskey that Ford had poured for you. It had been a long night of research, Ford was trying to build an interdimensional gateway, stuff you would’ve thought five years ago only existed in science fiction, but he really was a genius.

His other partner had already gone home for the night, Fiddleford. He was a good guy, but you were kind of happy he had left already. You liked him just fine but the truth was you had feelings for his cohort.

You blushed whenever Ford looked your way, eyed his hands as they fiddled with the laboratory devices, wondering to yourself how his hands would feel on you. There were so many times you wanted to tell him how you felt, to confess your true feelings. With Fiddleford almost always present the timing never felt right, but tonight you had Ford all to yourself.

Neither of you said much, just taking in the night air. You bounced your leg nervously, you started to feel light headed but decided to ignore it. Ford studied your face, it was clear you were anxious about something.

“Y/n, are you okay?”

You bit the bullet and took a deep breath.

“Ford, I-“

But before you could get another word out the world around you began to sway, the corners of your vision going black, the darkness slowly creeping in. You felt yourself falling forward. The last thing you heard was Ford’s voice.

“Y/n? Y/n!”

-

Ford caught you in his arms, he looked down at you, not sure what to do. He shook you.

“Y/n! Y/n!”

He tried to collect his thoughts, what the hell had just happened? You were fine all day and now you were out cold. He put a hand to your forehead, it felt normal, you weren’t sick.

A chilling laugh that made the hairs on his neck stand on end echoed through his head.

“Well well well well well well well well well, looks like the perfect opportunity is right in front of you, sixer.”

Ford swallowed. “Bill?”

“The one and only. So what do you think of my handiwork?”

“Handiwork? What handiwork?”

“Oh come on, you’ve been pining after this kid for ages and you’ve been too darn afraid to do anything so I figured I’d throw you a bone.”

Ford felt a pit grow in his stomach “Bill… what did you do?”

“It’s really not that big of a deal, sixer. I just had you add a little something special to their drink.”

Ford was horrified. “Bill, that’s- you can’t-“

“Oh come off it Fordsy, you and I both know this is a golden opportunity. Do you seriously think you’re gonna have the guts to even kiss them when they’re awake?”

Ford bit his lip, Bill was right, he was a coward when it came to you.

“Mull it over, I’ll leave you two alone for now, don’t be a pussy. Byyyyyyeeeee.”

And with that things were quiet again, it was just Ford and you lying unconscious in his arms. He felt his pulse in his throat. He had wanted to kiss you, to know you intimately for so long. Would he really get another chance like this?

He stood up, and carried you through the front door. He walked through the dark cabin, the floorboards creaking underneath his feet. He opened the door to his room and walked to the edge of his bed, setting you down gently on the plush covers.

He cupped your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. He knew it was sick, but thought you looked incredibly cute passed out. Your lips were parted slightly, so kissable. He couldn’t resist, he leaned down and kissed you deeply and felt himself grow achingly hard. Fuck, this felt so wrong but he didn’t have the will to stop himself now.

His fingers traced the top button of your blouse, undoing each of them slowly, kissing his way down the valley between your breasts as he did so.

He thumbed the delicate lace of your bra, god if you hadn’t planned to be seen like this why would you wear something so sexy underneath? He slipped a hand down your back to sit you up so he could undo your bra.

He sucked in a breath as he laid you back down and took in the sight of your breasts, they were so fucking perfect. He had pictured it in his mind thousands of times but the real thing was even better than he imagined. He took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling it with his tongue. Taking your other breast in his hand, he circled your nipple with his index finger.

His cock throbbed through his pants. If this was wrong why was he so turned on? Was he really that depraved? He shook his head, trying to escape the thoughts and enjoy the moment.

He ran his calloused hands up your thighs and started to pull down your pants. He let out a small dark chuckle, matching underwear. Yeah, you were asking for this. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of your panties and slid them off your legs. The sight of you elicited another sinister laugh from him. You were soaking wet, even in your unconscious state your body begged for him.

He pulled his hands off of you and began removing his trench coat, next his sweater vest and collared shirt. He unbuckled his belt, letting it hit the floor with a loud thud. He slid his boxers off of his hips and let them fall over his discarded pants.

He stroked himself absentmindedly as he studied your naked body. He wished he had a polaroid camera so he could save this moment forever. He wanted to ravage you, claim you. Then it occurred to him that it would only be fair to make you cum if he was going to destroy you.

He slid himself down the length of your body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. His hot breath tickled your pussy. He took your clit in his mouth, his tongue flicking it rapidly. He moaned into your pussy, you tasted so fucking good. He wished that you were awake so you could tangle your fingers in his hair. He slid his index and middle finger inside of you, pumping roughly into you.

He felt your walls tighten around his fingers, your wetness dripping out of you. He worked you with a steady rhythm, savoring the delicious wet sounds of his fingers sliding in and out of you.

He sucked your clit furiously, his fingers fucking you with a brutal intensity. Your pussy began to spasm around his fingers, he knew you were close. He kept at his pace, wanting to push you to orgasm.

“That’s it, baby, cum for me.”

You began to pulse around his fingers, a small moan escaped your lips. He reveled in your orgasm. His cock leaked precum and twitched wildly. Nothing had ever gotten him this aroused.

He got up, dragging you head first to the edge of the bed, tilting your head back. He swiped his finger on your tongue, feeling the warmth of your mouth. He angled his cock to your lips and shoved himself down your throat.

He fucked your mouth aggressively, panting and swearing. You looked so pretty with his cock in your throat. He bucked his hips into your face, holding a hand to your neck, feeling his cock bulge in your throat.

He felt himself getting close, and pulled out. His breathing was ragged. He took a moment to collect himself before picking you up and laying you back down with your head on the pillow.

He climbed on top of you and kissed you deeply, hands fondling your breasts. He aligned his cock with your entrance and with a loud groan forced himself into you all the way to the hilt. The way your pussy gripped his cock was perfect.

-

Your eyes fluttered open, all you could see from the dim light of the bedside table lamp was a figure moving on top of you. As your eyes adjusted and you started to come back to reality it hit you just what was happening and who it was.

“FORD WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

“Oh, you’re awake. I’m sorry but you passed out and you just looked so perfect that I had to have you.”

You desperately tried to free yourself from underneath him, you clawed at his arms. He took your wrists in his hands and pinned them down above your head.

“Don’t- ah, don’t struggle. I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

“Ford, stop. Please.” You cried.

“I can’t, nngh, you feel too good.”

He fucked you hard, pumping his thick cock into you. The slick, wet sounds filling the room. He forced his lips on yours and moaned into your mouth, his tongue shoving its way to the back of your throat.

You wrestled yourself out of his grip and pushed him off of you. You scrambled off of the bed and ran for your life for the door, but Ford was faster. He tackled you and pinned you to the floor.

“Baby please don’t make this, ugh, harder than it has to be.” He whispered into your ear as you fought back against him.

He pulled you to your feet and shoved you back down on the bed, pinning your wrists once more. He was going to finish what he started. He violently forced himself into you again, his rhythm punishing. He groaned loudly and bit your neck, you whimpered. His cock twitching at the noise.

He stopped for a second, reaching into the bedside drawer and pulled out a pair of handcuffs that he had stolen off a cop during a night of possession by Bill. He cuffed your hands above your head. His hand now free to travel south, making its way to your clit. He drew circles with his fingers while continuing to brutally fuck you, causing your pussy clench around his cock. The pleasure was indescribable, god he loved it.

You tried to struggle again, but Ford held you down by the waist with his free hand. His breathing quickened, he was close, you were too. He pounded you into the mattress, the bed frame shaking.

“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum, I need you to cum around my cock.”

His fingers didn’t let up, you felt yourself getting closer to the edge. You bit into his into his shoulder and felt the skin break, the sickly metallic taste of blood flooding your mouth. That was enough to send Ford over, he cocked his head back and his moan echoed throughout the cabin. You cried out as you came, tears welling in your eyes.

Ford shuddered and panted, he was spent. He rolled off of you and collapsed beside you. You laid there, shaking and crying. Ford took your face in his hand, wiping away the tears with his thumb.

“Shh shh shh, it’s okay, you’re okay.” He cooed. “Let me get those cuffs off of you.”

With a click of the little key your hands were released. You thought about using this as an opportunity to run, but you felt frozen. He kissed you lazily on your lips and neck, then he pulled you against his chest. His big calloused hands stroked your back. You felt strangely comforted, safe almost. You had always wanted this, to be wrapped in Ford’s arms.

Ford had desired you for so long, and now that he finally had you he wasn’t going to let you go.

[z3nitsusgf]

Megalomaniac

ford/reader: NSFW, oral, fem!reader, manipulation, intoxication, drugging, bill being creepy (normal), ford needs therapy after this

Stanford, in his right normal mind, would never dare to step foot in a place like this. This shitty depraved club, full of young bodies that didn’t have a care in the world other than to blow coke and drink till their livers hurt.

The music, some up-tempo beat that pulses in his ears, has everyone swaying and pressed against one another. Vulgar and unsanitary and so very alluring.

“What even is this shit?”

Ford mutters, Bill laughing and scanning each person under the neon pink and fluorescent blue.

Ford knows, faintly, that this isn’t his style. The back part of his subconscious screaming that this is irrational - a sick demented game that’s spurred on by the demon in his mind.

Cipher is singing in his head, his voice cawing like a bird over the Savanah. He is absorbing everything. Sights, smells, sounds - tastes.

Ford has no clue how long he’s been here. In all honesty, he doesn’t remember walking in or drinking or- his nose burns. When he goes to scratch he feels some powdery substance falling like snow. What in the hell? He blinks rapidly under the pulse of the strobing lights.

“Bill-“

“Lighten up Specs, relax.”

He does it without question. His body almost immediately fell into place without his consent. Bill is a demanding creature; selfish, cruel, and unreasonable. Bill is playing Ford as his own personal marionette. Moving his body through the crowds of hot sticky bodies. Flesh, bone, blood, marrow- Ford’s mouth waters uncontrollably. There is something wrong with him.

“I gotta say, Sixer, this is some hot shit.” Bill coos, piloting Ford’s body through to the bar. A sleek counter made of dark wood, various sticky stains of alcohol line it, and the glow of bottles illuminating behind the barkeep is almost entrancing.

“Cipher… what’s the point of this?”

Ford is growing irritated. He doesn’t understand the need for this… recklessness. He was never meant for this, Stan was more equipped to handle outings like these. Especially with the people that occupy this place. Ford purses his lips, there is a feral gnawing in the back of his throat.

There are women everywhere in tight dresses, too-short skirts, and low-cut bra-less tops that let him see the swell of their breasts. He averts his gaze the best he can without Bill rearing back to stare. Ford has this horrible thought of splitting them apart, he bites at his lip until he tastes the sickly sweet iron that pools on his tongue.

“Well my good friend, you are in desperate need of a break. As much as I hate to say it. You need to let loose, have some fun. Can’t have you croaking and ruining everything.”

So simple when it comes from his mouth.

Ford purses his lips, unsure and weary. Bill hasn’t been wrong yet, and he’s too scattered to even argue.

“Couldn’t I just, I dunno, stay home and read a book or-“

“No! You’ll just end up working again. And besides, you’re a good looking guy, you need some serious lay.”

Bill laughs in his head, he laughs even more when Ford blushes and looks down.

“You know I’m not used to-“

“Come on Sixer, look at that one, she’s exactly your type.”

Bill forces his head up, making Ford look at a gorgeous woman. A gorgeous woman who plops next to him at the bar.

You’re wearing a dress? Or what he assumes is a dress. Is this even clothing? He wonders. The other downside of having Bill in his head is that he can hear the dirty thoughts that filter through Ford’s brain.

“Jesus Christ, look at that hottie. Talk to her Fordsy, or I will.”

Ford grips the glass of liquor in his hand, when did he get that? He can’t even remember ordering. It’s bourbon, he thinks. Or he hopes. He doesn’t know. It burns its way down his trachea, leaving behind the aftertaste of burnt wood and orange peel.

His body is tingling, he wonders if his pupils are blown and if the sweat is really sweat or something else. He trails his eyes over your body, blinking rapidly at the colors spraying new hues with each second. Perhaps he is in the dreamscape, this is all some demented dream crafted by Bill. But that doesn't mean he can't indulge, right?

Your dress is tight, hugging you close and short enough that if you were to bend over, Ford is 100% sure he’d be able to see your panties. The strap of your bra is showing, and the plunging v on your dress shows that it’s lacy. He wonders, faintly, what you would look like inside. Blood, sinew, tissue; red and bleeding and torn into pieces.

God he’s becoming unhinged.

You slink next to him, legs sliding onto the stool and your strappy heels hooking onto the rungs. You have nice legs, pretty and smooth and trailing up to the expanse of your thigh he can see the peeking of tattoos and if you turn he can see your cun- he needs to quit.

You yell to the bartender for another cosmo, chest pushed up onto your forearms. Ford tries not to stare at the way your tits push up and almost out of your dress. You’re about to pay, pulling a wad of cash from your purse.

Make your move Six, I’m about to jump in for you-

“No!” Ford spits, you jump at his voice and Ford internally curses when he realizes he’s said it out loud.

“No?” You tilt your head, confused and a little nervous. Hands playing with your purse as you brace yourself to get up and leave. You have dark polish on your nails, your wrists embraced in golden bangles.

“I mean- fuck, I mean no, I’ll pay.”

You raise an arched brow, fiddling with the glass stem and tapping your fingers on the wooden tabletop.

“Okay… thank you.”

He stares at your face. The wild mused up licks of your hair, the smoky dark smears of makeup under your eyes, the full plushy softness of your parted lips. You’re dewy and sparkly and goddamn you’re gorgeous.

You look at the man in front of you with owlish observation. Looking at the button-up that’s open at the top, the cool slate-colored khaki pants. He’s older, much older than you are. But he’s still very very handsome. Handsome enough that you wouldn’t mind jumping his bones for a night.

He’s a little shy looking, and you find it funny that an older man like him is so nervous to talk to a woman. You give him a sweet saccharine smile, lips all glossy and smooth that Ford wants to lick the sheen right from your mouth.

“You gonna pay or?”

The bartender breaks the ice cold tension between you. And Ford is slapping down a $5 bill and practically shooing the bartender away.

"That’s what I’m talking about you old geezer! Nice. Now take her home and fuck the shit out of her."

Ford's mind can’t keep up. He’s distracted and confused and his head is full of mysterious liquor and drugs and god - he can’t think straight. All he knows is that you’re inching closer and closer to him and you’re so close he can smell the lime and tequila from your mouth.

“Never seen you around before, handsome.”

You graze your nails along his forearm, the hair on his skin raising with goosebumps at the prickle-like sensation. He blinks hard, glasses foggy and his vision bleary. You’re fading in and out of his field of view, he doesn’t mind though. He wants to take a bite out of your neck, imagining how beautiful you'd look. Like a misty mosaic of broken glass turned diamonds, he feels a stab of hunger for you.

“So you’re a Doctor?”

Ford snaps back to reality, has he been having a conversation with you? What have you been talking about? He just nods, “Yes, uh, sort of. I mean, I have a PhD and all that, but it’s more of a research thing-“

You giggle, it’s muted over the bass-blasting music but still, it’s sticky sweet like honey and your skin is so shiny, almost glittery. He wants to lick the perspiration off your neck.

“Wanna go somewhere quieter?” You ask, talking into his ear so he can hear.

“Yes, of course.”

-

Time doesn’t exist. Ford doesn’t know if it’s his state of mind, or Bill. All he knows is that he blinks and you two are in a private back room. You’re seated next to him on a cherry leather love-seat. Legs dangled over his lap and dress pooling up over the tops of your thighs.

He’s got his hands on your skin, gripping at the meat of your thighs, closing in on your ass. It’s soft, malleable between his palms. It’s weird, he can’t tell if it’s the dreamscape or real or a hallucination or-

You’re kissing the side of his neck, mouthing sloppily at the hot skin and Ford is whining. You're staining his neck in dark pomegranate-colored marks, chewing on him like a dog, like meat left on bones.

“Is this what you want, baby?”

You mumble against his flesh, he swears he can feel the sharp razor edge of your canines in his jugular. He dismisses it. He wants you entirely, forever and ever.

He nods, hands gripping your hips with his head thrown back. The room smells like liquor and cigarettes and something faintly sulphuric. The faintest of alarm bells ring in his brain, he’s too high and far away to care. There is a pang of consumption in his belly, that need.

"Yes," he pants, your tone is velvet and Ford can't resist.

And Bill- Bill is whispering depraved things into the spongy linings of his mind, soaking his brain with thoughts that would have anyone slack-jawed and in awe. He's aware of his... inexperience, it only makes it more tempting to ruin it, smash it apart like how he deserves.

Ford is losing his fucking mind. Time is leaking out of his mind, fading and bursting in maniacal bubbles that have him reeling. Animal-thirst that melts into his spine and he's too far gone to ever argue against it.

-

He comes to when he feels a jolt of pleasure throughout his body.

You’re devouring him, literally and figuratively. If he focuses too hard on the way you work your mouth on him, he’ll end up cumming.

You’re bent over him like a preying tiger. Back arched in a sinfully beautiful way, the curve of your hips sloping into your ass has him biting his lip. The lacy stripes of your thong are digging into the plushy softness of your skin, that teasing line drawn down to your center.

He fists the cushion, nails sliding across the leather. He can’t quite grasp it, it’s slipping like sifting sand through his fingers. He doesn’t know if he should grip your hair or the armrest or just sit up and fuck your throat. Could he even do that?

“How are you- oh god,”

You’ve got him down to the base, tip hitting the back of your throat. You take it like a grade-A pornstar, not even gagging once. When you pull off, you don’t stop. Moving your hand up and down like you’ve gone mad. A half-hard grip that makes him buck his hips. He had no idea if this was even real, it sure as hell felt like it.

Eerily enough, Bill has gone silent in his mind. Which gives him the faintest of relief that the man demon isn't watching this unfold. This debauched spectacle of depraved carnal lust.

“Jesus, why are you so good at this?” He pants, tongue heavy like lava on his palate.

His vision is blurry, his glasses are foggy and god- you’re like a fucking nymph with the way you suck him off. He thinks you’re perfect. You’re a dreamy watercolor expression that’s painted across his lap like a heaven-sent dove. Sweet and sticky like warm caramel.

You swipe the pad of your thumb along the underside of his cherry-red head, spreading the saliva and pre that’s slicked the thick shaft of his cock.

“Does that feel good, baby?” You purr, humming softly when he whines a soft yes.

You lick a fat stripe from base to tip, tonguing at the thick vein that pulses along the underside. He might just be in love, this intimacy was foreign, and he's going mad with touch.

“Holy shit-“

You giggle, hand working sloppy smooth jerks on his cock. You lower yourself, kissing and sucking at his fat balls, lapping at in a way that has him nearly howling at with the feeling.

His hips buck into your palms, he’s tightroping the line of falling straight into your trap and just taking you for himself. He’s too oblivious to see the flash of yellow in your pupils. He’s not used to this, not at all.

"Don't run from it." You murmur, skimming a free hand up his thigh. Nails dragging across the skin, sharp and unforgiving.

If he were sober, he’d be unable to do this. Unable to handle the attention, the touch. He grabs at your hair, fingers running through the strands and feeling it. Real as he can believe.

“You gonna cum for me?” You murmur, the vibration of your voice sending shockwaves of pleasure through his spine.

He moans, nodding so hard you’d think his head would fall off his shoulders. The back of his skull hitting the headrest of the love seat.

He’s so close, so close that it’s winding up in his stomach and about to explode.

You pull back.

It’s like cold water has been thrown on him. He gasps, fists clenching the seat cushion and hips frantically chasing your hand, your mouth, anything. The moments are slipping, hand in hand like a timetable turned over, desperate.

He tries to zero in on you, you’re blurred. Your eyes are dark, lips curled. He’d be scared if you didn’t look so hot. You sit up from your knees, standing and leaning over him.

“Why?” He gasps, the high fading and he’s tempted to just finish himself when you grab at his wrist.

Unnaturally strong, he thinks.

You tsk and wrap your palms around the thick of his wrist, carpal bones shifting and you maneuver it to the apex of your cunt. Grazing his fingers against the lacy surface of your thong.

“Wouldn’t you rather fuck me?” You purr, voice sultry and so sugary sweet that Ford could get a toothache. He groans, he can’t move away so he flexes his fingers against the sopping wet cover. You’re drenched.

You straddle him, cupping his face and leaning down to his ear. You swipe your tongue along the shell, sucking at the lobe and smirking when he shivers. His palm is flat against your cunt and you grind yourself into it, letting him feel the slickness.

“You wanna fuck me, hm? Wanna feel me?”

Ford nods, humming as he pets your mound. He's stuck, stuck between making himself cum and fucking your mouthwatering cunt.

“You said you were going to leave Gravity Falls, I’d be so sad if you did.” You murmur.

Had he said that? He doesn’t recall ever speaking about that, but then again he doesn’t care right now.

“I wouldn’t want this to be a one time thing, ya know?” Sighing as you go to lift yourself off.

Ford whines, grabbing your hip to keep you centered. Could he truly leave after this? He thinks, as clearly as he can, what would he go back to? Nothing.

“No! I-“ his tongue is sticking to his gums, “I’m not leaving, can’t-“

He doesn’t ever want to go without you. He barely even knows you, but to think you’d do this, indefinitely… he doesn’t see the reason to leave.

Maybe the loneliness would go away and it would be bearable to stay.

"Perfect." You murmur, looking at his glazed eyes and slack-jawed expression. He looks like he wants to eat you alive.

-

Good job, hon. You’ve got him.

Bill pats your head, circling around you like a hyena. You nod, blowing out a puff of smoke. The demon finally creeps out from the shadows of the room.

Now he won’t ever think of leaving Gravity Falls.

“Damn, he’s out cold.” You nudge him with your foot, and Ford is practically dead to the world.

"A shame, I wanted to keep going." You're pouting, smoking on your cig, and disappointed. Too bad, you'll get more chances later.

Bill chuckles, Maybe I’ll have a little more fun with him.

-

When Ford wakes up he is sure that he had the most lucid dream in his life. He stretches on his bed, shirtless and… pantless? His body aches something fierce, like he’s ran a triathlon in the desert.

He has cottonmouth, coughing on the sheer dryness on his tongue. He winces when he feels a stinging itch on his lower back, his fingers going to grace over the skin, and he finds an unfamiliar patch that’s risen.

“It cant be another one-“

He gets up, staggering with a blinding headache to the mirror. Turning around to look and he almost dies of embarrassment. There, on the small of his back, the most atrocious tattoo he’s ever seen. Sprawled cursive with fake pink kissy marks that read, ‘Flirty Gal’.

“Oh my god.” He groans, the rising anger for Bill and how his body has been used.

“I think it’s cute.” Ford jumps at your voice, looking up to see you there. You’re in the doorway to his bedroom, wearing nothing but a spare shirt and your underwear. He flushes, so it wasn’t a dream.

“What even happened-“

You frown, a sappy dopey little frown, “You don’t remember?”

You’re sauntering over, Ford gets flashes of intermittent memories. Your lips on his neck, your fingers in his hair, your legs around his waist, your mouth-

He shivers, it's almost haunting.

“Ah,” you drag your finger across his jaw, “you do remember.”

You lean into his ear, “I’m glad.”

"Let's have some breakfast," You mumble, kissing his chest and turning on your heel. He watches you saunter out, a dark fluttering in his gut.

"We have a lot to talk about."

[sunniskyies]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 || 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 || 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟒

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: A small installment about reader reacting to Stan and Ford’s swap, without her knowing the truth. 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Ford Pines x fem!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Show-Typical injury and death, angst 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: The usual fluffy romance stuff, marriage! 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k 𝐀/𝐍: I wasn’t going to write anymore, so consider this short a 3.5! I had to rewatch Weirdmageddon again, so it’s accurate albeit overdramatic.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 > 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 > 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑 > 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟒

Ford’s timing couldn’t be more perfect. Your lips have just parted, eyes still heavy-lidded, when your figures become silhouetted against a large, glowing red eye.

Bill is huge, his body crimson with rage; it’s only a matter of time until he discovers the Mystery Shack’s weakness.

“Quickly, Ford! Do something!” You say, drawing back from the warmth of his touch. His eyes linger on you for a second, before jumping to action. You watch, nail tip between anxious teeth, as Ford paints a large, almost cuneiform, circle reminiscent of a séance. You patiently listen to him as he instructs each of you your task (ignoring your lingering bitterness that you didn’t know he knew this). You frantically help the twins pull Stanley and Ford apart from trying to rip out each other’s throats.

And you watch as Bill Cipher looms above you, trapping you and the kids in a blue luminescent cage while the two most important men in your life are suspended in his grasp.

“Quickly, Dipper, grow the cage with your flashlight. The height-altering crystals!” You hiss under your breath.

“It’s really weird hearing you not deny the paranormal, Great Aunt ____,” he replies, pointing the magical flashlight at the bars, the cage growing until you can slip right through.

Mabel’s still helping you over the bars when Dipper calls to Ford and Stanley, “Save yourselves! Run, we’ll take care of Bill!”

“What?!” Ford cries, “That’s a suicide mission!” His eyes dart to yours, pleading. You only steel your expression further, trying to project something into that magnificent brain of his. It’ll all be fine, just get out of here.

“We’ll be okay,” Dipper replies, turning to his sister. “We’ve beat him before.”

“And we’ll beat him again!” She whoops. “Let’s go!”

You try to hurry out of the chamber quickly, but the kids refuse to go without taunting Bill further. Luckily, the demon does eventually give chase— but not before ensnaring the Pines boys once more when they try to follow you, Ford calling out a plea to you. You only look over your shoulder pained, reminding yourself that this will save them.

“When I get my hands on you I’m going to disassemble your molecules!” Cipher howls as his pyramid form hunts you down endless corridors. You pull the kids along, your heart racing with fear and adrenaline. You’re escaping, hope of safety within sight. But even after a daring ascent via grappling hook, and a smashed wall, the wretched entity still manages to seize you.

“Let us down!” You growl, trying to wriggle from his grasp as he smugly carries you back to Ford and Stan. “Please, let the kids down!”

Bill ignores you, all too eager to torment your fiancé. “Time’s up Fordsy! Look what I’ve got!” He coos down to the man. “It’s your family! I think I’m going to kill one of them, just for the heck of it!”

His eye scours over the three of you, squirming in his clutch. “Eeny, meeny, miny… you,” Cipher’s massive red locks onto you, and you're overcome by the hatred and jealousy that it instils.

You take a shuddering breath, trying to prepare yourself for what's to come. Your eyes flutter closed. Stanley, kids, I love you. Ford—

“Wait!” A small voice calls from the ground. From in the cage. “I surrender!”

You twist around to see a distant Ford gripping the walls of the cage, staring defiantly up at Bill.

“NO!” You cry, well, you try to. The air is stolen from your chest as you plummet from the sky, hitting the ground with a sickening sound.

Head and vision fuzzy, you look up to see Bill Cipher dismantling his cage, reaching out a flame-engulfed hand to the love of your life. And he… takes it.

Words knot uselessly in your mouth as you watch Ford sign away his life. “No Grunkle Ford, don’t trust him!” Dipper yells. But fate continues, the world rippling as a triangular shadow sinks into Ford’s hair, his knees buckling beneath him.

The knot unravels.

“STANLEY PINES DON’T YOU DO IT!” You shriek as the horrible man has the audacity to pull the memory gun from his interior pocket. “Please, Stanley! I just got him back! Don’t you kill him, goddammit!”

You think he’s just going to shoot, the steely man never one for hesitation. Yet, his head tilts, eyes catching yours. You’re taken aback; even from here, you sink into their endless sympathy. His warm gaze holds yours for a second.

His finger twitches, then pulls hard. A stream connects the gun to Ford’s head, a laser sinking into his mind and evaporating everything inside.

The scream that bubbles up within you is borderline demonic. As soon as Stanley drops the gun, you scramble over to Ford’s crumpled form. Your body falls into him, quivering hands clutching his face.

Almost instantly you're scrambling away again, perhaps shoving the body a bit too hard. Your back presses into ‘Stanley’s’ legs in your retreat. Your chest heaves, another pained sound peeling from within you.

“Ford?!” You garble. “What’s wrong with Ford that’s not Ford—”

A warm hand on your shoulder cuts you off. Still horrified, you glance up to see a tragically beautiful face looking down at you. The man crouches down behind you, wrapping two strong arms around your shaking form.

“Ford?” You whisper, disbelieving. Ford doesn’t reply, just tucking his head into the crook between your head and shoulder, looking over at Stanley.

Oh. Stanley.

“You horrid boys,” you whisper, a tear rolling down your cheek as you stare over at your best friend, Ford’s overcoat pooling around him. You reach a hand up to cup Ford’s face from its perch, the two of you resting in silence for a moment.

It’s almost poetic, Bill Cipher’s demise. The chaos around you returns to lush green valleys, bricks rebuilding themselves, demons disintegrating, all while your bodies stay pressed together.

“You’re okay,” you murmur to your beloved in this gap in time before you have to make your way over to Stan, before you have to be there for the kids.

“We made it,” he replies, so quiet you could miss it.

“How are we going to go on? What does the future look like for us now?” You ask, Stan’s form flickering in visibility before you as the chamber containing you dismantles itself. Your eyes watch him between the blocks of black stone and hellish artefacts.

“I don’t know, my love.” Ford’s hands have taken yours, rolling your engagement ring between finger and thumb.

In the middle of the Arctic Ocean, atop a bobbing grey-hulled ship, two lovers exchange rings. Their words are swept away by icy winds, waves folding them up and sinking their vows deep into the ocean’s heart. Salty spray makes the silver bands slide on, hands slick as they hold each other, an extra finger on each side.

You're bundled up in an old blue coat, borrowed from a man with a tan line on his temple from a lifetime sporting a fez. A new pair of sturdy black boots supports you from the ocean’s sway, a gift from your doting husband. You made an effort to wear a white blouse beneath your cold weather clothes, your silver hair a long veil swept out behind you, toiling in the wind.

Your face is flushed from the biting cold, but the man in front of you knows your ears are pink from the way he stares at you while he recites those honeyed words. In turn, you know his pupils are not dilated from the darkness of the storm clouds above, rather the way you clutch his face and press cool lips against his the second Stanley proclaims you can.

The warmth between your flush bodies is a sacred bubble from the arctic air, the sound of your twin heartbeats drowning out the creaks and groans of the ship. Ford’s lips taste like salt and biscuity rations, but when your nose buries into his face as you kiss you swear you can smell the tang of pine and ink. His hands against your skin are large and rugged and perfect for life on deck, yet you feel their calluses come from a lifetime adventuring a forested town rather than a life at sea.

Ford bends to you; arms ever supporting your weight, lips endlessly worshipping of yours. He smiles against you as he feels the coolness of your ring brush past him, excitement bubbling up at the idea that you are his wife. He is yours, and you get to call him as such.

Stanford Pines has traversed thousands of light years, slipped through countless dimensions and fought monsters well beyond our imaginations. But his favourite place in the whole universe, along every time continuum, is half a centimetre away from a woman, floating in the middle of the vast ocean.

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