Stanley Pines X Reader - Tumblr Posts

Stanford Pines x Self-Insert

Summary ;; Ford Pines discovers a strange glowing red flower, obviously he brings it back to the shack to bring it underground and study it. But Stanley has other plans, seeing it as a business opportunity, but of course he messes it up

~~~~ (I'm sorry I forgot to use they/them pronouns so this is a Stan x female self insert)~~~~

EdIt;: Im rly sorry if its bad, its been a long while since I wrote fanfic but I love this man to death I need this ;( y'all would tell me if this is shit or not right? pls hlp

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Stanley's POV

Ford comes barreling in with something glowing red in his hands "the hell is that?" his brother didn't reply, instead he neatly stacked his books and gently places on the diner table a black pot with a large glowing flower.

Similar to a Lily, three long tubes with large pollen balls on each end gently emited small visible spores. I get irritated that he's ignoring me, again, and turn the tv off to lessen the noise "hey dick face!".

He looks at me with the highest form of disrespect, "Can you please tell me what the hell that thing is doing in my living room?" Ford huffed and straightened his glasses.

"techniqly this is my house Stanley. secondly! I don't know! I found it today. But I do know that I need to drive to my lab and retrieve some nessecary equipment items that I think would be beneficial of concealing this thing until I can learn more~"

The nerdy Pine brother looked 'too' excited about this research, "riiiiight, because playing with a flower is scientific?" my brother groans again "god why are you so childish! Just let me be happy about this discovery" I held my hands up in defense.

As he packed somethings up, he takes a step and looks at me very seriously, "listen Stan, I'm gonna be gone a while. Please, do not sell the damn flower in your freak shop. And more importantly. Do. Not. Touch. It."

I look back at the flower, everything about it calling to me to not sell it but cause general mischief for my brother and his nerdy hobbies. "yeah yeah, I promise! Jeez, you really think so low of your own blood?" he rolls his eyes and exits the living room with a sarcastic "yes.".

_______________

Self-Insert's POV

My cold wet hair dripped down my hot skin, I wrapped the towel around my chest, securing it well, then clipping the bottom, for no unnecessary 'drafts' of wind.

I combed my hair back out of my face and misted some perfume on before leaving the bathroom with the intention of going to my room and getting dressed. Until, !CRASH!

Rushing down the stairs with zero regards for slipping on my ass, I make it to the bottom to find Stanley Pines, my dear close friend, face covered in what looked like red spray paint and a broken flower pot with soil on the ground.

"Stan! What the- " I run to his side, holding his face with my hands to inspect the damage. I sprint to the kitchen and get some wet paper towels, trying to gently remove the mystery color from his face.

"Yeah yeah I know, Ford told me not to touch it already. But I didn't techniqly!" As I am dabbing his nose with the wet towel I give him a 'bruh' look. He protests "I'm serious! That damn flower basically farted this stuff in my face!" I laugh at his explanation.

As I finish cleaning the last of the flower spores from his eyes and nose, I notice an unfamiliar heat radiating from him like he was a mobile fireplace. Looking at his face, I see without the spores he is very flushed and red faces, a gentle sweat beginning at his bushy silver brows.

I put my lips to his forehead to feel his temperture, only to be met with an iron skillet burning my face, "Ow! Good Lord, how are you still alive! Your burning like grits with no butter!" I push the hair from his dripping face, to better see, he seems shy and sheepish? Stanley Pines? Shy?

Stanley's POV

I can't handle it, god this was such a mistake, I should have listened to Ford! Her glowing skin was the only thing I could pay attention to, as she spoke it was like how adults speak in cartoons.

When she was cleaning my eyes with the paper towel, I felt her breath, it sent chills through my whole body, like I was a teenager again! Her neck looked so... exposed... My body was turning up the heat like it was thanksgiving day.

I unconsciously trailed my eyes downward, (Self-Insert) continued her health assessment check with me, all my senses got more and more sensative. The TV volume was on low but it sounded like it was wracking inside my skull.

The living room light looked so bright and yellow for my eyes, I thought they were gonna dry away to dust. (Self-Insert)'s smell, fueling me into my lungs and straight to my member, so sweet, like honey and vanilla.

Her touch, as she nervously holds onto my arm for foundation, I can't think about anything else but the electrical storm going on with her beautiful body being pressed up against my old ass having a stroke on the floor in my fucking boxers. Real charming Stanley.

I unknowingly found myself gripping her wrist to bring her closer, hooking my arm around her waist and cupping each hip perversely. "T-Toots-... I can't... think... I don't think I... can even breath right now... but-" looking up deep into her eyes, the tent on me rises high to the sky.

Self-Insert's POV

The elder man aggressively shoved me, falling to my back but not hitting my head, thanks to his hand engulfing the back of my skull. Stanley's arms were firmly planted next to my head, his girtle not present but his very, very large lower half pushing past my legs, nothing but the thin blue and white striped cloth gently laying against my womanhood like a dog sitting on top of the bun.

"I can't explain how much I want- no..." Stanley falls forward, dipping his head to my throat like he's gonna rip it all out, "Need you~" I watch carefully, scared but, weirdly excited? His giant hands engulfing my wrists, the heart violently beating against his palm, "Stan." I say, to try and get his attention.

Suddenly rocking his hips to an imaginary song, he shifted his hands from my wrists to my biceps, pushing his weight on me as both our pre-cum juices covered and soaked his boxers. I couldn't run, the man was 5x larger than me, and I mean, It's not like it doesn't feel good~

Stanley grunted exhastedly, looking like a horny boy humping his pillow. The stubble on his face scratched all over me as he open mouth licked me like a loli-pop and drunkenly sucked hickies from my throat to my collarbones, he kept saying stuff like "I swear. you taste so good.", "I wish I could eat you like cake~", "say my name again, and I think I'll bust".

Gently removing himself from licking my neck, Stan suddenly rips my towel open, my no longer steaming body, hitting the freezing cold ac air of the mystery shack. Not saying a word, a small dripple of saliva dripping from his lip as sweat poured from his face.

His calloused fingers found their way to my chest with no hesitation, picking each bud with his pointer and thumb and rolling them around, my breath hitched as he pulled and let them fall back watching the buds grow stuffer and pinker "pretty, pink, buds" he murmurs.

While he gawked and played with my titties, I open my legs a bit more, adding to the closeness, his shaft firmly pressed to my soaking entrance. Reaching for the elastic of his boxers, I stick my thumbs in, circling around his waist and intending to push them down, feeling his swelled tip bed for attention.

!!EHEM!!-

Stanley's POV

(Self-Insert) sat in my lap as we watched my favorite romantic drama movie, my brother sat at the table next to us, toying with his glowing flower, that surprisingly lived.

Ford gagged once more, like he did for the 100th time, "I fucking hate you Stanley.".

I groan and drop my arm from the air dramatically, "Jesus fucking Christ Ford I already said I was in the wrong and I was sorry. How was I supposed to know it was gonna spit some sexy love juice in my face!" (Self-Insert) chuckled nervously as her face turned beat read again.

"Lets all of us just forget it okay. Please? Ugh~"

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I"M SO SORRY THAT WAS BAD- It was rushed and I'm finishing this at one thirty In the morning- AND I ALSO WORK- the lengths I go for horniness...

pls like...

<3

i’m working on a gravity falls fanfic (i’m making a whole new season with y/n 😭 i have too much time on my hands) are y’all interested? if y’all are ill start posting chapters! (i also might put it on wattpad first though) let me know!

information: this story takes place in gravity falls, it’s also the next summer (2013) Mabel and Dipper are 13-14 and Soos and Melody are together. The Grunkles will be in this Fanfic (don’t worry they’ll be there in all of the chapters “episodes”) they come to visit the kids for the summer. They might be a little OOC but it’s not on purpose :,) it’s for the plot. You are also staying with Soos and Abuelita for the summer. The reader will be a Fem Latina who is related to Soos. she’s also around 40-60 (she’s a gilf) i’m also making my own “episodes” also there’s a bit of spanish since it’s my first language!

S.S Pines x reader

Episode 1: Lantern Festival

It's a beautiful day in Gravity Falls, and the Mystery Shack buzzes with activity. The sun beams through the windows as Mabel and Dipper finish unpacking their things for the summer. Soos hums cheerfully in the background, organizing supplies. Mabel, her hair in her signature colorful headband, skips down the stairs with a wide grin.

"I'm all unpacked!" she announces brightly.

Y/N, who has been helping with the moving, looks up from the cluttered room and smiles warmly. "Good job, Chiqui," Y/N says, ruffling her hair affectionately.

Mabel giggles and twirls, her mood infectious. Dipper trudges down the stairs a moment later, his face shadowed with worry. Mabel, noticing his demeanor, nudges him playfully.

"C'mon, Dipper! Don't be so down, Mr. Grumpy Grumps!"

Dipper looks up, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and nostalgia. "Have you ever liked someone so much that even after you stop liking them, you wish there was still something there?"

Mabel and Y/N exchange a glance. Mabel rolls her eyes, though there's a hint of sympathy in her expression. "I thought we were over this! It's been a year, Dipper. You need to meet someone new."

Y/N steps closer, her expression softening. "Don't take it too hard, Dipper. Things happen, but life keeps moving. You're a strong kid."

Dipper nods slowly, his shoulders relaxing a bit. He starts to walk away, but Y/N calls out, "Wait!"

Dipper turns, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. Y/N's face brightens with a smile. "How about a trip to the diner? I'll get you anything you want!"

Both twins look at Y/N, their expressions shifting from concern to excitement. "Really?" they ask in unison.

Y/N nods enthusiastically. "Absolutely! Now hurry up and get in the car. We've got pancakes to eat!"

As they head out, the sun continues to shine, casting a hopeful light on the day ahead. The Mystery Shack, filled with laughter and warmth, stands ready for whatever adventures the summer might bring.

♡♡♡

Soos and Melody are bustling around the gift shop. Soos is restocking shelves while Melody manages the cash register with a cheerful smile. As the twins and Y/N approach the exit, Soos waves enthusiastically.

"Hey, dudes!" Soos calls out. "I heard there's a Lantern Festival tonight! Melody and I are going, and you dudes should totally check it out!"

Mabel's eyes light up with excitement. "A festival? Oh boy, I'm going to find so many cute boys!" She bounces on her toes, barely containing her enthusiasm.

Y/N chuckles, giving Mabel a playful boop on the nose. "I'm coming to the wedding," she teases, making Mabel scrunch her nose in a giggle.

"Whoever gets to the car last has to clean the bathrooms!" Mabel declares, taking off at a run.

"Aw, what?" Dipper exclaims, grinning as he chases after her. They both scramble into the back seat, laughing.

Y/N looks around the familiar town as they drive. The quaint streets of Gravity Falls feel both nostalgic and comforting. She smiles as they pull into the diner's driveway. "We're here, you goobers."

"YAY!" Mabel and Dipper cheer in unison, leaping out of the car and racing inside.

Inside the diner, Dipper's eyes widen in surprise. "W-Wendy?" he calls out.

Wendy looks up from her table with a grin. "No way! You guys are here already! I'm glad to see you, man."

Dipper's face brightens with a soft smile. "Me too."

"Dude, I'd love to chat more, but I'm hanging out with my dad. We'll catch up later!" Wendy waves as she heads back to her table.

Mabel and Dipper find a booth and settle in. Moments later, a familiar face approaches.

"Suzan?" Y/N says, her face lighting up. "I didn't think you'd still be working here after all these years."

Lazy Suzan, with a warm smile, recognizes her. "Y/N Ramirez! What a pleasant surprise! What brings you back?"

"I just had to come back and taste your amazing food again," Y/N replies.

Lazy Suzan laughs, giving a playful wink. "You're funny! So, what can I get you guys today?"

"I want pancakes!" Mabel exclaims, waving her hands in the air. "Pancakes, pancakes!" she chants.

Dipper nods, showing he wants the same thing.

"I'll have the same," Y/N adds with a grin as Mabel continues her chant.

"Alright!" Suzan jots down the order. "I'll get that right up for you."

As Lazy Suzan walks away, Mabel leans in with a teasing tone. "So, Y/N, do you have anyone special in your life?"

Y/N sighs, resting her elbows on the table. "Men are a waste of time. No matter how many times I try, they always disappoint me."

Mabel gasps, leaning closer to Dipper and whispering urgently. "We need to find her a match!"

Dipper glances at Mabel with a mix of amusement and concern. "Oh boy..."

♡♡♡

"I cannot believe this!" Mabel exclaims, pacing back and forth in their shared room. "We need to find Y/N her perfect match!"

Dipper, lounging on his bed with a book in hand, glances up with a mix of confusion and concern. "Mabel... She seems happy. I don't think we need to be interfering."

"Hey!" Mabel stops mid-stride and plants her hands on her hips. "The Lantern Festival is the perfect time to find her someone! It's all about magic and connections."

"Whoa, Mabel!" Dipper sits up, looking more alarmed. "You might need to rethink this. What if she doesn't want to be set up?"

"There's no time to waste!" Mabel's eyes sparkle with determination "Waddles, fetch me my pen! I need to start a plan right now!"

Dipper shakes his head, sighing but unable to suppress a small, amused smile. "Alright, alright. Just... let's make sure we don't make things awkward for her."

Mabel's face lights up with excitement. "Don't worry, Dipper! This is going to be great.

Trust me!"

The scene pans to Mabel, who is examining her model of Gravity Falls. She peers through the tiny people in the model, her brow furrowed in thought.

"I'm starting to think no one is good enough for Y/N," she muses, resting her chin on her hand as she continues to look through the model.

Suddenly, she gasps and holds up a wooden figure with excitement.

"Perfect!" she declares, a bright smile spreading across her face.

♡♡♡

Y/N is in her room, getting ready. She's wearing a pretty lavender dress that complements her features. She plays with her hair a bit, adjusting it until she hears a knock on the door. Confused, she goes to open it and sees Mabel on the other side.

"Hi, Y/N!" Mabel greets in a cheerful tone, wearing a cute sweater with a lantern on it.

"Something you need, Chiqui?" Y/N asks curiously.

"I just wanted to ask if my friends Grenda and Candy can come!" Mabel replies eagerly.

"Hm, okay," Y/N agrees.

"Yes!" Mabel exclaims excitedly.

"But on one condition," Y/N adds.

"Anything!" Mabel quickly responds.

"You meet me by the car after it's over. I don't want you running off," Y/N says with a smile.

Mabel nods enthusiastically. "I can work with that!"

♡♡♡

hey arrive at the lake where the festival will be held. Y/N takes in the breathtaking scenery.

"I'm so excited to see the stars tonight," she says, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Well, sunset is about to happen soon," Dipper points out.

"We should go before it's too late," Mabel agrees with a smile. "Yeah! I gotta go meet my girls!" She and Dipper run off, leaving Y/N alone.

"I guess I'm alone for tonight," Y/N says to herself, but she doesn't mind. It's a beautiful night. She decides to get a lantern and heads towards the stand, but accidentally bumps into someone.

"Oh—" she exclaims, looking up at the person she's collided with. "I'm so sorry, I really didn't mean to bump into you like that."

The stranger turns around and smiles warmly. "You're all good! Sometimes we bump into random strangers."

Y/N smiles at his easygoing comment. "You can say that twice," she replies, her mood lifting.

The stranger grins. "What is a feller like you doing in a place like this?"

"I'm currently visiting family for the summer," Y/N explains.

"Well, I hope you have a good time here!" he says sincerely.

"Thank you," Y/N replies with a nod and heads towards her boat.

♡♡♡

"Dipper!" A familiar voice called out, drawing his attention. He turned to see Pacifica standing nearby, looking both surprised and pleased.

"Pacifica!" Dipper said, tucking his journal into his jacket pocket. "I haven't seen you in a while. How are you holding up?"

Pacifica smiled, though she seemed a bit hesitant. "I'm good. I just came because the whole town is here."

Dipper raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Really? Not for any other reason?"

Pacifica chuckled softly, her gaze drifting away. "You know I'm not like that anymore."

Dipper's smile widened. "You've changed a lot since last summer."

Pacifica tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Hopefully for the better."

Dipper pointed toward the lantern booth. "Well, I'm going to get my lantern."

"I'll come with you! I haven't gotten mine yet either," Pacifica said.

"Alright," Dipper agreed. They joined the line, both looking a bit awkward as they fidgeted and avoided eye contact.

"So..." Dipper began, shifting on his feet.

"Yeah?" Pacifica replied, nervously twirling a lock of her hair.

They both started to speak at the same time, stumbling over their words. "You go first!" Pacifica urged, her cheeks flushing.

"No, I mean I interrupted you," Dipper said quickly.

"Oh—" Pacifica began, but their conversation was interrupted by the booth attendant's voice.

"Are you getting your lantern or what? You're holding up the line," the attendant said brusquely.

Both Dipper and Pacifica turned bright red. Pacifica's eyes flashed with irritation. "Excuse me, but we're just trying to have a conversation. There's no need to be rude."

The attendant shrugged, looking unfazed. "Sorry, just trying to keep things moving."

Dipper, trying to defuse the tension, said, "It's okay, Pacifica. Let's just get our lanterns."

The attendant, with a smirk, guided them towards a boat. "A boat for the young couple!"

Dipper opened his mouth to protest, but Pacifica quickly added, "Wait, I didn't get my lantern."

"We can share mine," Dipper offered, helping Pacifica into the boat. They settled down as the boat started drifting away from the dock.

As they set their lantern in the water, their fingers brushed briefly, creating a moment of electric contact. Pacifica looked at the lantern with awe, while Dipper found himself captivated by something even more beautiful—the genuine, contented smile on Pacifica's face.

♡♡♡

A man helped her climb into the boat, and she carefully held onto her lantern. As she settled into her seat, she looked up at the stars. "Wow," she whispered to herself, awe evident in her voice. "How beautiful."

She gazed at the starry sky, feeling a deep sense of nostalgia. "I've missed this," she murmured.

Looking around, she saw people settling in with their loved ones. Mabel was laughing with her two friends, and Dipper was sitting with a blonde girl. A warm smile spread across her face as she observed them, feeling reassured that they were doing well.

She turned her attention back to her lantern, watching as others released theirs into the night sky. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the tranquility of the evening. With a gentle release, she let her lantern float upward, merging with the constellation of glowing lights above.

♡♡♡

Dipper and Y/N sat in the car, waiting for Mabel. Dipper glanced at his watch and sighed, "What is taking her so long?"

Y/N shrugged, looking around the parking lot. "I'm not sure. She might still be talking to her friends."

"I guess so," Dipper replied.

Just then, Mabel came running towards them, looking frazzled. "There you are! Sorry, I didn't realize how late it was!"

"You're fine, Mabel," Y/N reassured her. "I hope you had a good time."

As they all got into the car, Mabel suddenly burst out, "Dipper has a—"

Dipper quickly covered her mouth, a look of shock on his face. "Mabel! Did you just lick my hand?"

Mabel giggled, and Dipper rolled his eyes, but couldn't help smiling.

On their way home, the conversation turned to the festival. They chatted about how pretty and fun it had been, each sharing their favorite moments.

When they arrived home, Soos and Melody were waiting outside.

"Hey, Jesus. How was it?" Y/N asked.

"You won't believe this—" Soos started to explain, but Y/N cut her off with a yawn.

"Tell me later, Jesús. Estoy cansada. Me alegra que te hayas divertido," Y/N said with a smile.

"Goodnight, Tía," Soos added, waving as they headed inside.

♡♡♡

Dipper and Mabel are in the bathroom, brushing their teeth. Dipper, with a thoughtful look, says, "You know what's weird?"

Mabel, glancing up from her toothbrush, asks, "What?"

"Nothing weird happened today," Dipper replies, his voice tinged with confusion.

Mabel bursts into laughter, "Besides seeing you and Pacifica getting all smoochy—"

"Ugh, Mabel! I'm being serious," Dipper interrupts, glaring at his reflection in the mirror. "What is going on?"

End of Chapter 1

Master list:

S.S. Pines x reader

chapter 1 :

chapter 2:

chapter 3:

S.S. pines x reader

EPISODE 2: In Hiding

Dipper and Mabel lounged on the living room floor of the Mystery Shack. Mabel groaned, lifting her legs and clutching Waddles in her arms. "I am so bored," she whined, staring up at the ceiling.

Dipper, lying on his stomach and scribbling in his journal, glanced over at her. "Don’t you have friends? Why don’t you go out with them?" he teased.

Before Mabel could respond, Soos burst into the room with a huge grin, holding up a calendar. "Dudes! Do you know what day it is?"

Mabel jumped up, her mood instantly lifting. "Gompers and Waddles’ first anniversary?"

Dipper looked up, puzzled. "Is there an event happening?"

Soos beamed and pointed to the calendar. "It’s the day your Grunkles are coming! Aren’t you guys excited?"

Mabel and Dipper exchanged a look, their faces lighting up with excitement. Suddenly, they heard a knock at the door. The twins scrambled to their feet and raced to the door, playfully shoving each other along the way.

Mabel reached the door first and flung it open with a huge smile. "Grunkle Stan! Great Uncle Ford!" she and Dipper shouted in unison.

They rushed forward, wrapping their arms around their uncles. Stan grunted but then chuckled, ruffling Mabel’s hair. "Missed you too, kiddos."

Ford smiled warmly, his eyes twinkling. "My nephew and niece! I hope you haven’t stopped being curious!"

Mabel grinned, "Don’t worry, Great Uncle Ford! With Dipper around, there’s always something strange happening."

Dipper shot her a playful look. "Hey!"

Mabel giggled, sticking her tongue out at him. Meanwhile, Soos stood nearby, patiently waiting for Stan to notice him. When Stan finally did, he broke into a smile. "Soos! I love what you’ve done with the place."

Soos puffed out his chest proudly, looking around the room. Ford, however, was already examining one of the quirky attractions with a confused expression. "A… snadger? That’s the most unbelievable one yet," he mused.

Soos laughed, "You’d be surprised."

♡♡♡

Everyone was outside, soaking up the sun and enjoying the day. Mabel, Dipper, Wendy, and Soos were in the middle of a lively game of spin the pig, their laughter and cheers echoing through the yard. Stan and Ford relaxed on the couch, watching the younger group with amused smiles.

Ford glanced at his brother, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “You know, Stanley, I never thought I would be genuinely happy. Before everything, I thought I had everything figured out. I was too absorbed with myself, never realizing I needed people in my life. But it turns out I wasn’t even close.”

Stan took a slow sip of his Pitt Cola, letting Ford’s words sink in. With a contented sigh, he replied, “I didn’t have much until the kids stayed with me last summer. But hey,” he added, giving Ford a playful punch on the arm, “don’t get all sappy on me. It’s a good day.”

Just then, a loud rumbling noise cut through the air. Wendy paused, tilting her head in confusion. “Dude, I think I just heard a whale.”

“Nah, dude,” Soos said with a grin, patting his stomach, “It’s my stomach.” His stomach rumbled again, louder this time. “We need to get some lunch.”

As if on cue, a pink 1959 Cadillac pulled up to the driveway, catching everyone’s attention. Y/N stepped out of the car, juggling several bags of food. “I got tacos!” she called out with a wide smile.

“Oh yeah!” The group cheered, instantly abandoning their game to rush over to Y/N.

“Ya’ll better share,” Y/N teased as she handed out the tacos. The group settled into a circle on the grass, tearing into their food with enthusiasm.

Stan, however, couldn’t help but eye the pink Cadillac with interest. “A pink Cadillac?” he mused aloud, leaning back on the couch. “She must have money.”

Ford shot his brother a look of annoyance. “Can you not think about money for once?” He stood up, brushing off his pants before clearing his throat. “I’m going to introduce myself to her.”

Stan chuckled, raising an eyebrow at Ford. “Yeah, ’cause you’re great with women.”

Ford rolled his eyes but didn’t respond, instead heading towards Y/N with a confident stride. Stan, not one to be outdone, followed closely behind, putting on his most charming smile.

“Hey, pretty lady,” Stan greeted, wiggling his eyebrows up and down with a grin.

Y/N looked up, clearly amused by his antics. “Excuse me?”

“Grunkle Stan, please leave her alone,” Dipper interjected from the circle, sounding more embarrassed than anything.

But Stan ignored him, still focused on Y/N. “You know, I have a knack for finding treasure,” he said, taking her hand gently. “And I gotta say, I think I just found one.”

Y/N smirked, pushing her sunglasses up onto her head as she met his gaze. “Is that all you got?”

Before Stan could respond, Ford quickly stepped in. “Excuse my brother,” he began, offering Y/N a polite smile. “My name is Stanford. Stanford Pines.”

Y/N’s smile widened as she took in the sight of the twins. “Twins run in the family, huh?”

“Yeah, but I’m the handsome one,” Stan quipped, giving her a wink. “That’s how you can tell us apart.”

Y/N chuckled, clearly entertained by the banter between the brothers. The playful energy between them was infectious, adding another layer of warmth to the already sunny day.

♡♡♡

“Did you discover anything new, Great Uncle Ford?” Dipper asked, his excitement barely contained.

Ford’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “I never stop discovering things, Dipper. But today, I’ve got something intriguing.” He pulled out his journal, opening it to a page filled with intricate notes and sketches. “We know mythical creatures exist, but what about Greek mythology?”

Dipper’s eyes widened. “Like Aphrodite?” he asked, awe creeping into his voice.

Mabel gasped, her eyes lit up. “I need to know her secrets for true love!”

Wendy chuckled, leaning back with a grin. “And what if she makes you fall for a bunch of gnomes instead?”

Mabel’s jaw dropped in mock horror. “You have no idea, Wendy!”

Dipper, refocusing, added, “We should totally check this out! We’ve tackled so much before. This could be a whole new adventure.”

Ford’s expression grew serious. “I wish I could say yes, Dipper, but it’s too dangerous right now. Let’s talk about it later.”

Stan, who had been listening from the kitchen, stepped in. “This is supposed to be a family day. I almost lost you this summer. I’m not taking any risks.”

Dipper’s enthusiasm deflated. “Come on, Stan…”

Wendy shook her head. “Stan might have a point. Maybe we should put this off for a bit.”

Dipper sighed deeply. “I guess…”

Soos, ever the optimist, piped up, “Hey, don’t be so bummed out, hambone! We can always watch a show!”

Mabel, lifting Waddles, who was dressed in a cute Greek mythology outfit with a little gold headband, said, “We can have fun here!”

Dipper looked at the scene, his mood lifting slightly. “Okay, I’ll go hang out in my room for a bit.”

Ford gave him a reassuring smile. “I know you’re eager for adventure, and it’ll come soon. Don’t worry, Dipper. There will be plenty of time for what you love.”

Dipper nodded and headed upstairs, feeling a bit more hopeful. “I’ll be in my room.”

♡♡♡

Y/N frowned, the room thick with an awkward silence that seemed to stretch on forever. Stan, sensing the tension, cleared his throat. “He’ll be okay. Dipper’s tough; he’ll get over it.” His voice was firm, but no one responded.

After a moment, he clapped his hands together. “Alright, I got stuff for s’mores! How about we get a campfire started?”

Wendy shrugged, trying to shake off the unease. “That could be fun.”

“Yeah, sounds great!” Mabel chimed in, her voice full of forced cheerfulness.

“Perfect. Soos, grab the gear, would ya?”

“You got it, Mr. Pines,” Soos replied with a thumbs-up, heading inside to gather the supplies.

As everyone filed outside, Mabel played with Waddles, her carefree demeanor masking her concern. Wendy stood a little apart, her gaze distant.

“What’s wrong, Wendy?” Mabel asked suddenly, not looking up from Waddles.

Wendy blinked, surprised that Mabel had noticed. “Just… one of those days, you know? And, yeah, I’m worried about Dipper.”

Mabel nodded. “I’m always worried about Dipper,” she said softly, her tone more serious. “But about the other thing… are you missing someone?”

Wendy looked out at the trees, her expression thoughtful. “Something like that.”

Stan’s voice cut through the moment. “Who’s ready for a scary story?”

Ford, with a smirk, replied, “If it’s another one of your made-up tales for the Mystery Shack, count me out.”

Stan placed a hand on his chest, feigning hurt. “I can’t believe you’d say that about me, Ford!”

They shared a laugh, the tension easing as Ford shook his head with a smile. “Good to know that no matter how old we get, some things never change.”

Soon, the fire crackled warmly, and everyone gathered around, roasting marshmallows and enjoying the night air. The mood lightened, and even Wendy began to relax, chuckling at one of Stan’s exaggerated stories.

“This is nice,” Soos said, his marshmallow perfectly golden as he pulled it from the fire. “Feels like it’s been forever since we’ve all hung out like this. Y’know, without Dipper around, it’s kinda weird.”

Mabel nodded, her eyes reflecting the firelight as she turned her marshmallow stick. “Yeah, it’s been a while. I miss him too.”

Ford added, “He needs time, but he’ll be back with us soon enough.”

The group fell into a comfortable rhythm, the earlier tension now a distant memory as they joked and shared stories under the stars. Even Y/N found themselves smiling, the warmth of the fire and the camaraderie soothing their worries.

Stan leaned back, content. “Yup, just like old times.”

♡♡♡

He sighed, staring down at the journal he’d been working on. “This is so stupid,” he muttered, frustration boiling over. In a burst of anger, he threw the journal across the room. It hit the wall with a dull thud, and as it fell, something slipped out from between the pages, fluttering to the floor.

“What the—?” He squinted, noticing the small slip of paper that had escaped. Curiosity piqued, he approached cautiously, bending down to pick it up.

“A note?” he whispered to himself, his heart rate quickening. He unfolded it rapidly, his impatience driving him to reveal its contents as quickly as possible.

As his eyes scanned the words, his heart dropped. The color drained from his face, and he instinctively brought a trembling hand to his mouth, trying to process the sudden wave of emotion that crashed over him.

End of episode 2

TELL ME WHAT YALL THINK >:0 ALSO SORRY ITS A BIT SLOW RN! BUT THINGS WILL PICK IP SOON

S.S. Pines x reader

Episode 3: Statue Garden

it’s 3 am but i finished it! i’m sorry if it’s rushed or doesn’t make sense, i didn’t proofread it lol

It’s official. Dipper has been missing for approximately 17 hours. Mabel hasn’t slept a wink, her eyes red and puffy from crying. Despite Y/N’s attempts to reassure her that Dipper will be home soon, she refuses to eat. We’ve tried everything, but she can’t stop blaming herself. I can’t help but feel the same way.

Stanley has been driving around town for hours, searching every corner, but with no luck. Meanwhile, I’ve been narrowing down possible places Dipper could be. He couldn’t have gone far—he didn’t take much with him. I might have to look in—

Ford’s thoughts are abruptly interrupted by a sudden realization. “His room! Why didn’t I think of that earlier?”

He leaves his notebook in the kitchen and rushes upstairs to the room that Dipper and Mabel share. His eyes scan the room desperately, looking for any clue that might help. Then, he spots it—Dipper’s journal. Ford picks it up, confusion washing over him. “He would never leave something like this behind.”

Ford heads downstairs, journal in hand, where Y/N is watching over Mabel, who is curled up on the couch. Y/N sighs, looking defeated.

“Y/N?” Ford calls softly.

She turns, her tired eyes widening as she notices the journal in his hand. “Where did you find that?”

“In the twins’ room,” Ford replies, his voice tight with worry.

Y/N shakes her head. “He would never just leave without that journal.”

“I thought the same thing. I think he left out of impulse.”

“But where would he even go so suddenly?” Y/N asks, her voice trembling.

“I’m not sure,” Ford admits, his mind racing. “But it has to be someplace he’s been wanting to go.”

“Ford, we might be overanalyzing this,” Y/N says, biting her lip. “I might have to call my team to search for him.”

Ford looks at her, determination in his eyes. “Trust me, I think I know where his head might be at.”

Y/N hesitates, then nods. “You better be right.”

♡♡♡

Ford led Y/N through a familiar part of the forest, the trees parting to reveal a hidden path. “Woah,” Y/N breathed, taking in the lush surroundings. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled patterns on the ground. They continued walking until, suddenly, a small town appeared before them, nestled in the heart of the woods.

“A town in the middle of the forest?” Y/N said, her voice filled with awe. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

They stepped closer, and Y/N’s brow furrowed. “What is this place?”

Ford nodded, sensing the strange energy. “It looks like a normal town, doesn’t it? So ordinary, you’d almost forget you’re in the middle of nowhere.”

“That’s the illusion,” Ford explained, his tone cautious. “Once you enter, you never want to leave.”

They wandered further into the town, the streets lined with quaint houses and storefronts that looked as if they were plucked from a storybook. As they walked, Y/N spotted a vibrant garden filled with colorful flowers and exotic plants.

“Ford! Look at that!” She pointed, her excitement momentarily breaking the tension. Ford turned, glancing at the garden before shaking his head.

“I don’t think Dipper would be interested in something like that,” Ford said dismissively. “He’s more drawn to adventure than… gardens.”

Y/N crossed her arms, a hint of frustration creeping into her voice. “Dipper’s a curious kid, Ford. Maybe this garden caught his eye. It’s worth checking out.”

Ford’s expression tightened. “We need to be practical. Dipper would want something more—more challenging, more mysterious. Not just a garden.”

Y/N's frustration flared. “Ford, we should at least look. It’s not going to hurt.”

Ford’s voice rose, his frustration spilling over. “Trust me, Y/N, I know Dipper. He wouldn’t waste time here.”

Y/N took a step closer, her eyes narrowing. “You’re so sure of yourself, aren’t you? But maybe—just maybe—my idea could help us find him.”

“A garden? Really?” Ford scoffed, crossing his arms.

Y/N stopped, crossing her arms in return. “What’s your problem?”

Ford threw up his hands defensively. “I just don’t think your idea is going to help.”

“Ford, you have to trust—”

“I don’t!” Ford snapped, his voice sharp. “You don’t know Dipper like I do! I knew bringing you along was a mistake—you’re stubborn and impossible to work with!”

Y/N stared at him, stunned. “You think I’m hard to work with?”

Ford glared. “You never listen. You always have to do things your way.”

Y/N’s voice trembled with anger. “Really? You want to talk about being stubborn? You think you know everything!”

Ford turned abruptly, stomping off toward another building. “Where are you going?” Y/N called after him.

“To find Dipper,” Ford shot back without looking at her. “Because clearly, you’re incapable of doing it.”

Y/N watched him walk away, hurt flickering in her eyes. Of all the people, she never expected Ford to speak to her like that. Taking a deep breath, she turned back toward the garden. Maybe there was something there, something Ford had overlooked.

♡♡♡

Ford wandered through the town, his eyes scanning the quaint buildings until something caught his attention—a large, magnificent museum, its grand entrance flanked by marble columns. "Ah! Maybe this will help,” he murmured, striding towards it. He stepped inside, and his breath caught at the sight before him. The museum was breathtaking, with walls adorned with vibrant paintings, delicate sculptures, and elegant decor that whispered of another era.

As Ford marveled at the art, a woman dressed in a stylish, matching uniform approached him with a warm smile. “Hello, doll,” she greeted, her voice smooth and inviting.

Ford, caught off guard, quickly straightened his posture. “Hello!” he replied, offering a polite nod.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” she asked, her tone friendly yet poised.

Ford returned her smile, glancing around the expansive room. “Nothing right now, just admiring the place.”

The woman’s eyes widened as if a thought suddenly struck her. “Wait, aren’t you that science guy? I’ve heard so much about you!”

Ford blinked in surprise. “What, really?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Mhm, you must be pretty smart to do all that science stuff.”

Ford chuckled, a hint of pride warming his cheeks. “It’s my specialty.”

“You’re a once-in-a-lifetime kind of man,” she said, her voice dripping with admiration. Without missing a beat, she looped her arm through his, guiding him toward the bar at the far end of the museum. Ford hesitated briefly but was quickly swept along by her charm.

“I’m curious,” she continued, leading him to a plush barstool. “Tell me about your latest discovery.”

Ford’s eyes lit up, and he leaned in, eager to share. “Well, my brother and I have been traveling the world—” He paused, catching a glimmer of something in her eyes, but it vanished before he could place it. Dismissing the flicker of doubt, he continued, too caught up in the excitement of sharing his adventures.

♡♡♡

Y/N wandered deeper into the garden, marveling at the vibrant array of exotic flowers. The colors seemed to swirl together, creating a tapestry of reds, blues, and yellows. “It’s bigger than I thought,” she murmured, stepping further in. Statues dotted the landscape, each one depicting a man frozen in time. She paused, puzzled. “Statues of men? Isn’t it usually beautiful women?”

Continuing her exploration, Y/N’s eyes caught sight of a quaint little coffee shop nestled among the greenery. “Oh!” She headed toward it, intrigued by its cozy charm.

Inside, the coffee shop was warm and inviting, filled with the rich scent of brewing coffee and fresh pastries. A friendly woman at the counter greeted her with a smile. “Welcome!”

“Hey!” Y/N greeted back. “Have you seen a 13-year-old boy? He’s got shorts, a jacket with patches, and he’s always carrying a journal?”

The woman’s face lit up in recognition. “Ah! You’re looking for the boy who’s been exploring all day. He’ll be at the pond.”

“The pond? How big is this place?” Y/N asked, impressed.

The woman giggled softly. “It’s quite large. We get that reaction a lot. The pond is on the east side of the garden.”

“Thank you so much.” Y/N nodded, leaving the shop and making her way toward the pond, her steps quickening with anticipation.

As she neared the water, Y/N spotted Dipper sitting by the pond, investigating something in the bushes. The scene was serene, the surface of the pond reflecting the sky above. “Dipper!” she called, relief flooding her voice.

Dipper looked up, his face breaking into a bright smile. “Tía Y/N!”

She rushed over and wrapped him in a tight hug. “Dipper, I’m so happy you’re okay.”

Dipper grinned, holding up his journal. “Tía, look what I’ve found!” He gestured to a small circle of mushrooms near the water’s edge, a tiny fairyland hidden within the garden. “Isn’t it amazing? I’ve been wanting to see something like this for ages!”

Y/N smiled at his enthusiasm, but her expression softened with concern. “It’s incredible, Dipper, but you shouldn’t have run away like that.”

Dipper’s smile faded slightly, and he looked down. “I know...but look at all this! I finally get to discover things on my own.” He points to the beautiful scenery, “We could see new things, try new theories.”

Y/N knelt beside him, her voice gentle but firm. “Dipper, we’ve all been worried sick. We miss you. Please, come back home.”

Dipper hesitated, glancing at his journal before looking back at her. “Tía Y/N, this is my chance to do something for myself. And it’s fine! The lady at the coffee shop is helping me. You guys can always visit!”

Y/N’s eyes softened with understanding. She sat down beside him, looking out at the pond. “Dipper, you’re one of the smartest, most curious kids I know. But you’re still young, and you have all the time in the world for adventures. Right now, the people who love and care about you need you home.”

Dipper stared at the water, processing her words. Finally, he nodded. “Okay,” he whispered, leaning into her for another hug. “Thanks, Y/N.”

“Anytime, Dipper. Now, let’s get you home.”

They got up and made their way back to the coffee shop. Y/N waved at the woman behind the counter. “We’re heading out.”

The woman nodded, understanding. “Safe travels! Come back anytime.”

Y/N smiled, guiding Dipper towards the garden’s exit, relieved that she convinced Dipper to come back with her.

♡♡♡

They stepped out of the city limits, taking in the familiar, yet somehow different, landscape.

“It’s not as whimsical as I remember,” Dipper muttered, his eyes scanning the streets with a hint of nostalgia.

“Yeah, I was thinking that too,” Y/N replied, looking around. Suddenly, she spotted something in the distance and raised her voice, “FORD!” Her sudden shout made Dipper jump. “We need to find your Great Uncle!”

Dipper's eyes widened in realization. “Where would he be?” he asked, glancing nervously around.

They both turned, eyes roaming over the bustling cityscape. Dipper pointed eagerly at a grand building down the road. “The museum!”

With urgency, they hurried to the museum, navigating through the crowded entrance. “This place is so big,” Dipper murmured, overwhelmed by the sheer size of the place. “How are we supposed to find—”

A sudden burst of laughter interrupted him. They both turned toward the sound, and Dipper's eyes widened.

“I think I just found him,” Y/N whispered, pointing to a familiar figure engaged in conversation with a woman, laughing heartily, a drink in hand.

“Ford!” Y/N called out, catching his attention. Ford turned around, surprised, his expression brightening when he saw who it was.

“Are you drinking?” Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Dipper!” Ford exclaimed, setting his drink down.

“Great Uncle Ford!” Dipper grinned and rushed forward to hug him.

“I’m so happy to see you!” Ford said, clapping Dipper on the back.

“Yeah! Y/N found me,” Dipper explained, gesturing to her.

Ford glanced over at Y/N, his smile faltering slightly as he noticed her standoffish demeanor. She avoided his gaze, clearly still upset over whatever had happened earlier.

“Let’s go home, Grunkle,” Dipper said with a happy tone.

Ford nodded, his smile returning. “Yes, home.”

But before they could leave, the woman Ford had been speaking with interjected. “Leaving already?” she asked, her voice dripping with charm as she caressed Ford's arm.

“I’m sorry, but I had fun!” Ford replied, trying to gently extricate himself.

“Hey! How about a picture before you go?” she suggested, her smile widening.

“A picture?” Ford asked, slightly confused.

“For memories! I want to remember a handsome man like you,” she purred.

Dipper and Y/N exchanged a skeptical glance, but Ford, flattered by her attention, nodded and stepped closer for the photo. Just as the camera clicked, a hissing noise filled the air.

“Do you hear that?” Dipper asked, looking around anxiously.

Y/N's eyes narrowed. “Wait, Ford—”

“CLOSE YOUR EYES!” Dipper shouted suddenly.

Y/N lunged forward, pushing Ford out of the way. “Medusa!” they gasped in unison, recognizing the danger.

The woman's smile twisted into a sneer as her hair began to writhe, transforming into a mass of hissing snakes. “You pathetic man,” Medusa hissed, her eyes blazing.

“We need to get out of here!” Dipper yelled, trying to back away, but Medusa slithered forward, blocking their path.

She turned her cold gaze to Y/N. “Why did you sssave him?” she hissed venomously. “I wasn’t going to let you turn him into stone!” Y/N shot back, her voice steady despite the danger.

“He didn’t treat you with any respect! He’s narcissistic and arrogant, just like every other man,” Medusa sneered, her words dripping with scorn.

Y/N paused, taking a deep breath as she reached into her bag. “You’re right,” she said, her voice calm. “But one of us has to be the selfless person.”

With that, she pulled out a small mirror and angled it toward Medusa. The creature’s eyes met her own reflection, and she let out a furious scream.

“You idiot! This man will keep disappointing you again and again—” Medusa's words were cut short as her body stiffened, slowly turning into stone.

The room fell silent. Ford stared at the statue, still processing what had happened. “Wow,” he whispered, finally finding his voice. “This is... disturbing.”

They quickly made their way out of the museum, heading back home. As they arrived, Mabel rushed out to greet them, tears streaming down her face.

“Dipper!” she cried, throwing her arms around him. “You’re so stupid!”

Dipper smiled, hugging her back. “I’m sorry, Mabel.”

Ford watched the reunion, then turned to Y/N with a grateful smile. “Thank you for saving me back there.”

Y/N's expression hardened. She turned her head away, her jaw clenched, refusing to look at him. Ford’s smile faltered, and he took a step back, unsure of what to say. He looked at Y/N, seeing the hurt and anger she was barely holding back. Y/N moved into the house without looking back, her silence speaking louder than words. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Ford standing in the doorway, the weight of her anger hanging heavily in the air.

End of Episode 3

I’m gonna go camping for a bit but i wanted y’all’s opinion and ideas for the gravity falls series! If anyone has ideas for episodes or prompts i’d be so happy to look and add them in! I’m currently working on chapter 4‼️ i’m so excited for your input! (big things are coming 😍)

S.S Pines x reader

Episode 4: Let’s go Dancing!

Y/N couldn’t sleep. The clock on her nightstand glowed 4:00 AM, its dim light casting soft shadows on her bedroom walls. Frustrated, she tossed the blankets aside, wrapped her robe tightly around her shoulders, and quietly made her way downstairs.

As she reached the living room, she was surprised to find the faint glow of the TV illuminating the room. Stanley was sprawled on the couch, eyes fixed on the screen but not really watching. When he heard her footsteps, he turned his head, his expression softening at the sight of her.

“Stan?” she called softly, her voice breaking the stillness of the early morning.

Stan raised a brow, sitting up slightly. “What’re you doing up so late, kid?”

Y/N pulled the robe tighter around her, the cool night air sending a shiver through her. “I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted, offering a small, tired smile.

Stan patted the space beside him on the couch. “Well, you’re welcome to stay up with me for a bit if you like. There’s some ancient alien documentary marathon going on—my kinda nonsense.”

Y/N chuckled softly, grateful for the offer. “Thanks, Stan,” she said, though she hesitated. “Actually, I’m going to check the mail. I need some fresh air.”

Stan nodded, his eyes following her as she headed to the door. “Sure thing. Don’t let the gnomes get ya,” he joked, his tone light, though his gaze lingered, a mix of concern and understanding.

As Y/N stepped outside, the chill of the early morning hit her, the sky still dark with only a hint of dawn on the horizon. She breathed in the cool air, letting it clear her head if only a little. She walked down the path to the mailbox, her mind still tangled with thoughts she couldn’t quite shake.

Back inside, Stan watched her from the window, his expression turning serious. He sighed, rubbing his hand over his stubbly chin. “Ford is fumbling,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head slightly. He turned back to the TV, the documentary playing on, but his mind was elsewhere—on his brother’s mistakes and the strain it was causing.

♡♡♡

For a moment, a comfortable silence settled between them. She glanced outside, her mind drifting. The sunlight streamed through the dusty window, casting a warm glow on the floorboards. Stan watched her, then looked down at his feet, as if considering something.

“Hey,” he said, breaking the silence. She turned her attention back to him. “I need some business to take care of. The kids are hanging out with Soos for the day. Would you like to join me?”

She tilted her head, surprised by the offer but pleasantly so. “I’d love to,” she replied with a soft smile.

♡♡♡

Stan and Y/N were cruising down the winding roads of Gravity Falls in Stan's beat-up old car, the radio softly crackling with some old tunes. Y/N stared out the window, watching the dense pines and distant mountains roll by. The car's engine hummed, and for a moment, the two of them sat in companionable silence.

Stan, never one for too much quiet, cleared his throat and decided to break it. “Y’know, my ex-wife still misses me,” he said, trying to keep a straight face.

Y/N glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”

“But her aim is getting better!” Stan burst out laughing, clearly pleased with his joke.

Y/N couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Hey! You’re smiling,” Stan pointed out with a triumphant grin. “I consider that a win.”

She shook her head, still smiling. “You’re ruthless, Stan.”

He shrugged with a proud grin. “Been called worse.”

Y/N’s smile lingered, but then she noticed something odd about the direction they were heading. She turned back to him, a bit confused. “Wait, where are we going?”

“We’re just heading into town,” Stan replied nonchalantly.

“But I thought we were going to handle some business?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

“We are,” he said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I just wanted to take you somewhere first.”

Her eyes widened in realization, and she gasped. “Are you taking me out?”

Stan feigned innocence. “Why would I do that?”

“You lured me out here so I wouldn’t say no!” she teased, leaning closer to him.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “In your dreams.”

Before Y/N could respond, something caught her eye. They were driving past a building with bright, flashing lights and the muffled thump of music pouring out. “Woah! There’s a dance club here?” she exclaimed, her face lighting up.

Stan glanced over, a bit skeptical. “Don’t you think it’s a little early to party?”

“It’s never too early,” she replied with a grin. “Besides, I haven’t been dancing in a while.”

Stan seemed a bit taken aback. “But we’re not ready,” he mumbled, looking down at his worn-out shirt and his usual grumpy exterior.

“Then let’s go back to get ready!” she suggested, her excitement infectious.

Stan sighed, but there was a small smile creeping up on his face. “Fine,” he muttered, trying to sound reluctant, but he wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Yes! Thank you, Stan!” she cheered, leaning over and giving his arm a playful squeeze.

♡♡♡

“Y/N! Come on!” Stan shouted from the bottom of the stairs, tapping his foot impatiently. “You said that twice in the last 40 minutes. I’m gonna go without ya!” His voice carried that familiar mix of irritation and teasing.

A voice echoed back from above. “It takes time to look this good! Some people try, you know.”

Stan rolled his eyes, muttering to himself, “Yeah, yeah, take your time, why don’t ya…”

Moments later, Y/N descended the stairs, wearing a striking white outfit with gold lining, bell-bottom jeans, and a sleeveless shirt. Her hair, perfectly curled, bounced with every step, and a matching headband sat neatly on her head. Large hoop earrings dangled and swung with each movement.

Stan blinked, his mouth slightly agape. “Woah,” he said, his usual gruffness softening into genuine admiration.

She grinned and teased, “Glad you waited?”

He chuckled, recovering his composure. “You’re on fire today, ain’t ya, hun?” His crooked smile appeared, a rare sight unless he was trying to sell someone something. “Let’s get this over with. I ain't gettin' any younger.”

They arrived at the disco club, and the moment they stepped inside, Y/N's eyes widened with delight. “Disco!” she exclaimed, her gaze sweeping over the colorful lights, the flashing strobes, and the massive disco ball glittering above. She tugged Stan’s hand, pulling him straight to the dance floor.

“You Should Be Dancing” by the Bee Gees began to play, and Y/N gasped with excitement. “I love this song!”

Stan watched, unable to take his eyes off her. She moved freely, as if the entire world had faded away. For a moment, Stan was entranced. His usual smirk softened, and he was almost in awe. She danced like no one was watching, and it was contagious. She grabbed his hand, spinning herself around him, and his grumpy exterior melted for a moment. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Alright, alright, you got me,” he said after a bit, catching his breath. “How ‘bout a shake, huh?”

“Only if you’re paying,” she teased, her laughter infectious.

“Ah, you’re a tough negotiator,” Stan said, chuckling as he walked over to the counter. “Chocolate or vanilla?”

“Vanilla!” Y/N replied with a grin.

Stan nodded. “You heard the lady, and make mine vanilla too.”

As he waited, the lights started flickering, an uneasy rhythm that set his instincts on edge. “What the—?”

Y/N’s smile faltered. “Stan, this isn’t normal, is it?”

Stan’s eyes narrowed, his senses heightened. “Nope. This ain’t normal at all.” The lights flickered more violently, and now people were looking around, concerned. The room buzzed with confusion.

“We gotta get outta here,” Stan growled, grabbing Y/N’s hand. But before they could move, a panic broke out. People were trampling each other in a rush to escape. “Y/N!” he yelled, trying to hold onto her hand, but the crowd pushed them apart.

“Stan!” she screamed, her voice lost in the chaos. The minutes stretched on, and the noise and confusion became overwhelming. They kept calling out for each other, but it felt like they were trapped in a nightmare.

Suddenly, the lights flared on again, but it was only for a moment. The disco ball above started spinning rapidly, faster and faster, casting eerie reflections around the room. Then, with a deafening CRASH, it exploded into shards.

“Y/N!” Stan shouted, frantically searching through the chaos. He spotted her on the ground, struggling to get up as people surged around her.

He pushed his way through, shoving people aside. “Are you hurt?” he asked, reaching down to help her.

“No, I’m okay,” she said, her voice shaky. “Things are just happening so fast, I—”

Stan glanced around, sensing something off. “Stay close,” he muttered, grabbing her hand tighter. “We’re getting outta here, now!”

Just as they reached the door, a low rumble sounded behind them. The disco ball’s remnants, still swinging from the ceiling, gave way. The whole place seemed to groan, and suddenly, the ceiling started to collapse.

“Down!” Stan shouted, covering Y/N with his body as debris rained down. When the dust settled, they were outside, both covered in dust and shaken.

Y/N looked up, her face pale. “I… I almost died.”

Stan nodded, his expression serious. “Yeah, well, someone planned this,” he said, his tone more certain than ever.

“How do you know?” Y/N asked, still catching her breath.

Stan sighed, his eyes narrowing. “I got a knack for these types of things.”

Y/N nodded, still processing. “What?”

♡♡♡

Ford wakes up, groggy and disoriented. His hand instinctively searches for his glasses on the bedside table. Finding them, he slips them on, blinking a few times to clear the blur from his vision. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself for the day ahead, before heading out of the room.

He makes his way to the kitchen, craving something to eat. The silence is unsettling—no usual clatter of morning routines or distant voices. He frowns, glancing around the empty room. With a sigh, he heads to the fridge, pulling it open casually.

A mangled sight meets his eyes—a dismembered body, its parts grotesquely scattered across the shelves. Blood seeps between the containers, pooling at the bottom. Ford's breath catches in his throat. He stumbles back, his glasses slipping down his nose.

“No. No. No. No. No,” he mutters, voice rising with each repetition. He wants to believe that this isn’t real— but the more he stares, the more vivid the horror becomes. His heart is pounding so hard he can feel it in his ears, a deafening rhythm that drowns out all other sounds. His mind starts to haze, everything around him blurring into a dizzying swirl.

His hands fly to his ears, trying to block out the noise, the sight, the entire impossible reality. Blood is dripping from the bottom of the fridge, forming a small, dark red puddle on the floor.

“Get out of my head!” he screams, eyes shut tight, trying to push away the overwhelming sense of dread and madness. His voice cracks, desperation tearing through every word.

“You first.”

End of Episode 4

I’m so sorry that this chapter is all over the place, I promise it’ll make more sense when the upcoming chapters come out!

Somno with Ford and Stan pines (fem!reader)

minors dni

౨ৎ Stanley Pines

Stan’s the type of man who likes to think he’s seen it all, done it all, but the sight of you lying there, all innocent, soft breaths coming out as you sleep? God, it does something to him. He’s never been good at denying himself, and you? You’re the one thing he can’t keep his hands off. He’d hover over you, his rough fingers sliding along the curve of your waist, tugging at the edge of your panties, just to feel your warmth.

“You’ve no idea what you do to me, princess,” he’d whisper, watching your brows furrow in sleep. He’d chuckle, feeling the twitch in his cock as he strokes himself while watching you squirm in your sleep, your soft quiet needy little moans filling the room. He’s not about to hold back, not when you’re so perfect for him like this, laying there all cute and innocent, literally begging him to take you, your voice so angelic. Stan’s hands would grip your thighs, parting them as he mutters, “You’re such a cute little thing when you’re all sleepy, ain’t ya?” 

He would slide your panties to the side, letting his thick fingers rub along your slit, feeling how wet you’ve already become. You tremble. “So cute. . . look at this mess for me already.” his cock would be hard as a rock as he lines it up, pressing slowly, watching the way you push your hips back toward him, even in your sleep, awwwh, so cute, you’re so desperate for him even when you’re not awake. “don’t worry, dollface. I’ll take care of my girl.” he’d whisper, treating you like his personal little treasure.

Stan wouldn’t be gentle either, not tonight, thrusting into you with a low groan, his cock throbbing. “Mhmm, you’re so tight, you feel, aaghh, so good. just like I knew you would.” his hands would grip your hips, pulling you back to meet his every thrust. He’d lean over, his breath hot against your ear, “C’mon, baby, let me hear those little noises, know you love this cock.” he wouldn’t stop until you’re both a mess of sweat and moans, his thrusts would grow harder, faster, the bed creaking under the force of his weight, your sleepy whines driving him closer to the edge.

౨ৎ Stanford Pines

Ford’s a man of control, of logic and all related things, but when it comes to you, you make him lose his mind. He knows it’s wrong, knows he should stop, but the way you lay there, your legs spread. . . he can’t look away. He’d stand there for a moment, fighting the urge, but his hand would already be palming his pulsing cock through his pants, groaning as his fingers wrap around the base, stroking slowly. How badly he needs you.

His breathing stops when he finally touches you, not fully realizing that it’s all real, present.

He’d kneel at the side of the bed, eyes locked on your cute, swollen clit as he slides your panties down, watching how you twitch in your sleep. “i shouldn’t, i can’t. . . but fuck, you’re so wet for me,” you’d shift in your sleep, arching your back. “im so sorry, sweetheart.” he whispers, but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t pull back, instead of it, his fingers spread your folds and he runs his finger over your wet entrance, collecting your wetness. His hands shaking slightly. 

You shift in your sleep, again, a soft moan slipping from your lips when Ford’s finger starts circling your sensitive bundle. His fingers would press into your soaked pussy, curling inside you as he mumbles against your skin, “Bet you’ve dreamt of this, haven’t you? dreamt of me filling you up.” his tip would be leaking by now as he’s unable to hold back any longer. “Such a good girl for me.” he’d whisper as he lines up his cock with your dripping cunt, sliding in slowly, feeling how tight you are around him, but oh god, you feel like heaven. His control would snap as he bottoms out, groaning, “Mmmhm, darling, you feel s-so good.”

Ford would fuck you slow and gentle, savoring every second, every soft moan that escapes your lips. “So perfect, so fuckin’ tight. . . need to fill you up, sweetheart.” 

Tourist trap (Stan Pines x fem!reader)

minors dni

Stan is very fond of tourists who believe his stories.

tags: nsfw, smut, p in v, fingering, riding, desk sex, semi-public, praise, sir kink, rough sex

You shifted nervously from one foot to the other, wide-eyed and excited, as you clutched your little Mystery Shack brochure in your hand. It was all crumpled from being folded and unfolded too many times, but you couldn’t stop reading all the incredible things advertised on it.

"See the world-famous Sasquatch Skull up close! Touch the Alien Artifacts nobody else believes in!" 

You believed it all. Every last word. After all, you’re such a lover of the unknown.

Your group of tourists shuffles around you, mostly adults who looks really unimpressed, grumbling about the entrance fee. You’re the only one whose eyes are wide with excitement and who literally trembles from excitement to see everything the Shack have to offer. And that’s exactly what catches his eye.

Stan Pines stands in the doorway, leaning on his cane, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. You don’t notice how his eyes scans over you, how he takes in every little detail: the innocent excitement, the way you’re practically throwing your money at the gift shop already and that naive, gullible glow about you. You practically skip forward, not noticing how Stan’s eyes linger on you. He can tell right away — you aren’t just any tourist. No, you’re special. Too trustful. Sweet. The kind that believe every ridiculous thing he’d ever put on display.

And isn’t that just. . . adorable?

The tour starts and you trail behind him eagerly, eyes wide and shining as he tells stories about the various "creatures" and "relics" in the Shack. Part of you is convinced that every word is true, that you’re standing in the presence of real magic, real mystery. 

Stan notices you hanging on his every word and it makes something stir in him. The way your lips parts just a little, these little “wow” and “ohh” you make, the way your eyes follow his every move. Meanwhile other tourists roll their eyes or sigh, bored out of their minds, but not you. You’re his favorite kind of visitor — the kind that made his job fun

"So," Stan starts, turning to you with a glint in his eye as the rest of the group wanders off, "what do you think of this, doll? Pretty impressive, huh?"

You nod enthusiastically, clutching your bag of over-priced trinkets and souvenirs. "It’s amazing, sir! i can’t believe im seeing all this in real life! i mean, is the Sasquatch skull really real? And the alien artifacts, are they, like, actually from space?!"

"Well, aren’t you just the cutest little tourist I’ve ever seen,” he smiles, leaning slightly towards you and letting out a chuckle “most people come in here and they laugh it off. Say it’s all fake, but not you. You really believe in this, don’t you?”

“Yeah! ive always dreamed of visiting such a cool place! thank you, sir, it’ll remain a good memory,” you giggle.

“Ohh, sweetheart, if you’re such a fan, maybe i can show you some of the mysteries we keep hidden from the average tourists.” he absolutely loves how wide-eyed and trusting you are. You really believe every word he tells you?

Your eyes light up, completely oblivious to the hungry look in his eyes. "Really? You’d do that?"

Stan rubs his chin, pretending to think it over, though the grin never left his face. “Hmm,” he looks at you for a couple more seconds before he tells you you. “for you, dear? Anything.”

He leads you away from the main part of the Shack, down a hallway lined with dusty old portraits and broken light fixtures. You don’t even notice how quiet it is now as the rest of the tour group far behind. All you can think about was the excitement bubbling inside you, the thrill of seeing something “exclusive.”

Stan opens a creaky door at the end of the hall and motions for you to step inside. You eagerly obey, stepping into a dimly lit room filled with more strange objects, things that weren’t part of the normal tour. At least, that’s what Stan told you.

He closes the door behind him with a soft click, the two of you now alone and you never really noticed how close he suddenly got, his hand resting on your lower back as he guides you further into the room, its cluttered with strange artifacts, most of which hadn’t made it to the main display.

You’re buzzing with excitement as you look around at the dusty shelves. "Wow!" you gasped, wide-eyed. “What’s that? and that?! oh my gosh, is that a real shrunken head?!”

Stan chuckles, settling himself down in an old chair near desk before patting his lap. “Why don’t you come here, doll? I’ll give you a closer look.” there was something in his voice. . . something that should alert you, but you’re too caught up in your excitement to notice it.

Without a second thought, you plop yourself down on his lap, leaning forward to inspect the nearest artifact, still firing off a barrage of questions. "What’s this one? and where did you get it? oh god, is it really cursed?!"

Stan grunts, adjusting you a bit closer as his hands settled on your hips. He leans forward slightly, his mouth near your ear as he begins to explain some ridiculous story about the origins of the objects. But you barely notice how his fingers start to slip lower, just lightly brushing along the hem of your skirt.

You keep talking, completely oblivious, your words spilling out in an excited rush. “This is so cool! i can’t believe no one else gets to see this! i-“ your voice hitches as Stan’s hand slides further up your thigh, his thick fingers grazing the edge of your panties.

He continues talking as if nothing happens. “This here is an ancient artifact from South America. Supposedly cursed, but, eh, I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” he pauses, his hand gently pressing against the softness of your thigh as he keeps you pinned on his lap.

Your breath caught in your throat, but you tried to focus on his words, nodding as you squirmed a little. “W-wow, that’s- that’s so cool!” your voice breathy as Stan’s fingers brushes lightly along the edge of your panties, teasing you.

“Yeah, real cool, huh?” he asks you, still as if nothing happened, his other hand sliding up your waist to grip your side, so you wouldn’t move that much. His fingers dip lower, grazing the fabric of your panties before slipping just beneath it. “aaand this one here,” he continues, “it’s said to have belonged to an ancient tribe. Powerful stuff.”

You can barely process what he’s saying, your mind blank as his fingers lightly tease along your slit, collecting the wetness that was beginning to pool there. You shift in his lap, trying to stifle the soft whimper that escape your lips, your legs pressing together.

“Something wrong, doll?” he asks in a playful, no, mocking tone, while his fingers now lightly caressing your clit. “You seem a little distracted. Thought you wanted to hear about all these mysteries*.”

“I- I do!” you stutter. “It’s just- s-sir!”

“Just what?” Stan interrupts, his fingers now slipping lower, pressing firmly against your entrance. His other hand grips your waist, holding you firmly in place as you instinctively try to buck your hips against his hand.

You whine softly, barely able to form a coherent sentence. "I-I just. . . oh god-“

Stan smirks. “You’re so cute, sweetheart,” he nuzzles your neck, his fingers now teasing your entrance, pushing just the tip of one finger inside your throbbing cunt. “asking all these questions while sitting in my lap like a good little girl.”

You sob, your hips rocking against his hand without even realizing it. You can feel his cock, hard and pulsing beneath you, pressing against your ass, but Stan keeps his focus on you, his fingers slowly pumping in and out of your wetness, never stopping his stories.

“This one is said to have special. . . powers. Like it can make someone go crazy with just one touch.” he chuckles, his finger curling inside you, hitting that spot that made you gasp and clench around him.

Your head spinning, your body aching with need, completely at his mercy as he tease and play with you, all while still pretending like it was just another tour.

Stan’s smirk widens as he feels you trembling in his lap, the way you quietly moan, your face and body both hot. He keeps his voice steady, still saying some ridiculous story about the artifacts, but his fingers never stops their teasing.

“So, this piece here was said to be used in rituals. Uhh, something about unlocking a person’s deepest desires, makin’ ’em lose all sense of control.” its not difficult for him to imagine these false stories, he is an experienced lier after all. You try to listen, try to understand what he’s saying, but that’s just impossible to do as he presses his thumb harder against your needy bud, his fingers sliding through your slick folds. You whimper, barely able to focus on his words. Your body burning, every nerve ending tingling as his rough fingers stroke and tease your throbbing pussy. Your hips rock against his hand, desperate for more, but you’re too shy, too embarrassed to ask for it.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? you were askin’ so many questions before, now you’re all quiet?” his thumb circles your clit a little bit faster and your body jolts from pleasure, a soft cry escaping your lips before you could stop it.

“I’m just-“ you stammer, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you squirm in his lap. “I c-can’t, sir, can’t think”

He chuckles, now pushing two thick fingers deep inside your tight, clenching cunt. You gasp and your back arch against him as he starts to pump them slowly, curling and scissoring his fingers just right, hitting that spot inside you that made your whole body tremble. What a lovely sounds you’re making.

“Aww you poor thing, so lost, huh? cant even think straight, can ya?”

You whimper, biting your lip as you try to stifle the noises that are spilling out of you, but it’s useless. Your hips are moving on their own, grinding against his hand as you clung to his shirt, “sir” and “please” leaving your mouth as his fingers stretch you so well.

“Just relax, doll, I’ll take care of you. Just listen to me.” his fingers pumped harder inside your pulsing pussy. “you wanted a tour, right?”

You nodded weakly, not even listening him, unable to focus on anything but the way his fingers were fucking into you, the wet sounds of your dripping pussy filling the small room. His thick digits stretch you open just good, making you lose your mind.

“So this here,” he continued, his voice still calm despite the way you were practically writhing in his lap, “was used by an ancient tribe. Supposedly, they thought it could help them communicate with the gods, but I think it’s more useful for somethin’ else. . . don’t you, sweetheart?”

You could only sob in response, your body trembling as his fingers drove deeper, stretching your tight walls, his thumb never leaving your poor sensitive clit, your muscles clenching around his fingers as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

“You’re such a good girl,” he praises as he watches you squirm in his lap, your wetness coating his fingers. “so cute, all worked up like this. You gonna cum for me, doll?” you nod , your hips bucking against his hand, his fingers thrusting deeper inside your aching cunt. Stan laughs at that pathetic sight, his fingers moving faster now, fucking you hard and deep, your pussy clenching around his digits. “Go on, princess, cum on my fingers.” you exhale when Stan finally let you finish. With a strangled cry, your body shakes, your cunt clenching around his fingers as your orgasm crashes over you. Your eyes rolled and brain fucking melted as you shudder in his lap.

Stan grinned, watching you with a satisfied smirk. “Good girl, such a good little doll for me.”

His hand rests on your breast, first slowly and gently caressing it. His fingers find your nipple and give it a light squeeze, drawing another sound from you. Stan smirks to himself as he feels you shaking in his lap, your body responding to every little touch he gave you. His fingers still buried deep inside you, moving at a slow, teasing pace that had you on edge, desperate for more. You can barely sit still, squirming against him, your breath coming out in soft, shallow gasps.

His fingers curling inside you again, and you whimper, your hips jerking in response. “You want somethin’, don’t you? you gotta tell me what you need, doll.”

Your mind foggy, every nerve in your body on fire as his fingers keep working you over, drawing soft, desperate noises from your parted lips. You could barely think straight, let alone put together a proper sentence. “pl-please, sir”

He chuckles, clearly enjoying your struggle. “Please what, sweetheart? you gotta use your words if you want somethin’ from me.”

You bite your lip, trying to keep yourself together, but it’s damn impossible with the way his big fingers thrusting inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. You can feel the heat building inside you again, that desperate, aching need, but of something bigger than just his fingers. You need to be filled, to have your brains fucked out. “I need more. . .”

“More, baby? you want my fingers to go faster? is that what you mean?”

You shake your head frantically, your whole body aching for something else. “No, I need- need your cock, sir-“

He raise his eyebrows in a fake surprise. “Oh, is that what you’ve been tryin’ to say this whole time? you’re beggin’ for it now, huh? pretty little thing, all desperate for me to fuck you?”

You whimper softly, your hips moving on their own, trying to push down on his hand for more friction, more pressure, but he holds you still, keeping you right where he wanted you. “Please, sir,” you whisper and nearly cry because of horrible emptiness you’re feeling. “please just fuck me, sir, i need you!”

“You’re lucky I’m feelin’ generous today, sweetheart,” he tells you, his hand finally pulling away from your dripping slit. “don’t say i never gave you nothin’.”

Before you can even process whats happening, Stan shifts you in his lap, his strong hands lifting your hips and positioning you right above his length. You can feel his cock, already hard and throbbing beneath you, pressing up against your soaked entrance, and your whole body tense, your breath catching in your throat.

Stan’s hands grip your hips tightly, holding you steady as he lines himself up with your glistening cunt, spreading your folds. “You ready for it, doll?” he asks. “this what you’ve been beggin’ for?”

You nod quickly, fuck enough of questions, you thought. “Yes,” you whisper. “yes yes yes, ple-“ but before you can even finish, he slowly pushes inside you, stretching you open inch by inch. You immediately gasp at the new sensation, your hands gripping onto his shoulders as your body adjusts to the sudden fullness. Oh god, it’s thick, so hard, filling you completely and you can feel every inch of him throbbing inside you, every vein, it feels so hot.

Stan huffs out, his grip on your hips tightening as he buries himself to the hilt. “Fuck, you’re tight. like you were made for this, doll.”

You whimper softly, holding on him, your body trembling as you try to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. It’s almost too much, the way he stretches you so perfectly, the way he fills you completely. You can barely breathe.

Stan gives you a moment to adjust. his cock pulsing inside you. “There we go,” he mutters watching your brows furrowing. “Just like that. . . you’re doin’ so good, babygirl.”

You moan again, your hips shifting slightly in his lap, and you feel him twitch inside you,. “I. . . nhhah, s-sir”

He leans towards you and kisses your forehead, his hands guiding your hips to start moving, slowly at first. “Go on, princess. Ride me, let me see how bad you want it.”

You bite your lip nervously as you’ve never been in this pose before, you slowly start to move, lifting yourself up and then sinking back down onto his cock. It feels incredible, the way his cock stretches you open, hitting all sweet spots inside you. You feel the tension building inside you again, that same desperate, aching need, and you whimper again and again, your hips moving faster as your cunt tightening around him.

Stan’s eyes locks with yours as he guides your movements, kissing your neck. “That’s it, sweetheart, you feel so fuckin’ good, yesss, such a good girl, ridin’ me like that.”

You cry out at his words, what a sweet praise, your body moving on its own now, your hips grinding down against him, taking him deeper with each thrust. You can barely think, barely breathe, the pleasure overwhelming your senses, your mind clouded, you can’t even maintain the eye contact.

Stan’s hands moves to your waist, holding you steady as he starts thrusting up into you, meeting your movements with deep, powerful thrusts. You whine, your hands gripping onto his shoulders for support as he fucks you, your mouth hangs open while he fucks you faster and harder with each thrust, he holds you so tightly, squeezing your body while you ride him.

You gasp. “I- I’m gonna-“

“Go ahead, doll, cum for me, let me feel it.”

Your body tensed, your walls clenching around his cock as your orgasm hits you hard. Your body shaking, trembling in his lap as you cumming, rambling pleas leave your mouth when you feel the tip of his cock rubbing sweetly against your cervix. Stan groans, his grip on your waist tightening as he thrusts up into you harder, deeper, drawing out your pleasure as long as he can. “That’s it, such a good girl, baby. . . so fuckin’ tight.”

You fall on his chest, still shaking, your mind still spinning from the intensity of it all. You can feel him still throbbing inside you, still hard, and you whimper softly, your hips shifting slightly in his lap, he’s clearly not planning on pulling out.

After you manage to get your breathing back to normal at least a little you feel his hands still all over you, roughly dragging you up and laying you out on the old wooden table. Your legs tremble, spread wide as he stares down at you, taking in the sight like you’re his prize, his fucking reward.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” grin crosses his lips as he grabs your thighs, pulling you right to the edge of the table before slamming his cock back inside your pussy, forcing a cry from your throat. Your body jolts at the sudden penetration, and you moan again, legs wrapping around his waist as he starts pounding into you again. Hard. Rough. Fast. There’s not a drop of mercy in his movements, he's not holding back, fucking you like you're just a thing for him to use. Your sweet moans and that pathetic "sl-slow down!" sound like music to his ears.

His hands all over you, squeezing, groping, touching. He grabs your breasts, kneading them, pinching your nipples through your shirt so hard you whimper, arching your back off the table. He groans at that, leaning in close, his breath hot against your neck as he whispers, “Fuck, you feel heavenly, baby, can’t get enough of this sweet little cunt.”

His fingers finds your clit, rubbing circles around it, teasing you until you can’t stop the pathetic whines spilling from your lips. He keeps fucking you harder, his hips slamming against yours, the table creaking under the weight of it all. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, mixed with your gasps, your moans, your begs and his grunts as he’s pounding into you like he was starving for it.

“Look at you,” he looks down at your flushed, wrecked body, his hands gripping your waist tight enough to bruise. “Such a fucking good girl for me, huh? letting me use this pretty little pussy however I want.”

You can’t really form words, can’t do anything but take it. Your so brain fucked, body burning, you’re so close you can’t think straight. He’s rough, fast, his fingers rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts, pushing you higher, higher, until you can’t hold back anymore. You cum hard, again, your pussy squeezing his cock well.

But Stan doesn’t stop. He just keeps going, fucking you right through it, ruining your pussy, even harder now, his hips snaps into you, faster, rougher, and you can feel the slick mess between your thighs, the obscene sound of it only making it filthier. You're choking on your moans.

“Ugh, gonna cum inside you, doll,” he groans. “Gonna fill this sweet pussy up, you want that? you want me to fucking fill you up?”

You nod frantically, too far gone to care about anything else, and with one last, hard thrust, he buries himself so deep, his cock pulsing as he finishes inside you. You feel how warm it is, his cum filling you up, spilling out of you as he keeps thrusting, riding out his high.

Finally, he slows down, pulling out with a groan, and you collapse back on the table, spent, utterly wrecked. Youre literally shaking, panting, his cum dripping out of your used pussy onto the wood below. Stan stands there, catching his breath, looking down at you and all that dirty mess, what a beautiful sight: your legs trembling, your body marked with his touch and his cum leaking from between your thighs.

He leans over. “you know, guess I'll give you a discount for that pretty face of yours.”

Ford x fem!reader x Stan

minors dni

Stan’s grip on you tightens, pulling you against his frame as he crashes his lips against yours. There’s no hesitation, just raw, impatient hunger, the kind of kiss that takes your breath away and leaves you wanting more. His hands roam with a boldness that leaves no room for doubt, fingers digging into your hips as if claiming you.

From behind, Ford’s approach is way softer. His lips ghost along the curve of your neck, pressing tender slow kisses to your skin. Such contrast between them makes you dizzy, overwhelmed by the intensity of their touches. You groan softly, caught in the heat of it all, and instinctively lean back into Ford’s embrace. There Stan's face visibly frowns.

Stan pulls back just enough to mutter, “Don't let him think he's in charge here.” his tone is rough, tinged with jealousy, his hand slides over your side, possessive and demanding as if trying to take you away from his twin.

Before you can respond, Ford’s voice cuts through, quiet but confident. “She can decide for herself, Stan,” he murmurs, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, sending a shiver through you. “can’t you, darling?”

The tension between the brothers is palpable, but so is the way their hands explore your body. Stan’s touch is firm, always a little too eager, while Ford’s fingers trail gently over your skin, savoring every inch. They both can’t get enough of you. Stan’s lips crash back into yours, but Ford’s kisses never stop, his mouth pressing slow, sensual kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck, you literally melt between them. 

A loud moan escapes your lips when Stan's hand slaps your butt, you sob from a little pain and feel Ford's body tense behind you as he glares at his brother. “What? Are you trying to make me look bad?” Stan huffs.

Ford smirks softly, nipping at your skin gently before whispering, “no? Im just appreciating how beautiful she is.” his touch is feather-light, contrasting with Stan’s more possessive grip. “and I'm trying to please her, Stanley, not hurt her."

“Yeah? well, I’d like to appreciate her too,” Stan bites out, jealousy bubbling inside him. “don’t forget who’s been here longer.” he murmurs into your mouth and leans in again, capturing your lips.

You whimper softly, overwhelmed by their attention, your face all flushed as you try to hold yourself. Both men vying for your attention. Ford smiles against your skin. “Good girl,” he praises softly.

Stan, at the exact same time, mutters, “Atta girl.”

They both fall silent as their words intersect in the most unexpected way. They pull away, looking at each other over your shoulder, realizing what just happened. There's an awkward silence for a moment, but then Stan huffs in annoyance, his grip on your waist tightening. “Seriously? you gotta steal my lines now?”

Ford, always calm, arches an eyebrow, and the corner of his mouth twitches in a smirk. “Didn’t realize praise was trademarked,” he remarks dryly.

You laugh softly, but the sound breathy from arousal. "Are you really arguing about this right now?” you ask them, needing their attention and kisses so badly, you don’t want that to stop.

Stan shoots a half-grin your way, nodding. “You better believe it, sweetie. I’m not lettin’ this nerd outdo me.”

Ford still remains calm and patient, although his hand slides up, cupping your chin, gently turning your face towards him. “Outdo you? Stan, we’re not in a competition.” his lips gently touch yours as he murmurs, “we’re both making her feel good.”

Stan’s cocky grin widens, and he leans in, his voice rough as he rests his hands on your thighs. “Speak for yourself, i think she likes me better.”

Ford chuckles smoothly, rolling his eyes and pressing another kiss to your shoulder, his breath tickles your skin pleasantly. “Is that so? Why don’t we let her tell us herself?”

Your heart pounds, your body burns at their touch and it takes your breath away when their eyes focus solely on you, waiting, watching. “I. . . I like both of you,” you admit breathlessly. “please, just- just continue, I need you both.”

Stan’s eyes light up, his fingers slide lower, his thumb brushing teasingly along your hip. “That’s my girl.”

Ford’s touch remains soft still, his lips pressing a delicate kiss to your neck as he murmurs against your skin, “You’re perfect, darling.”

best date ever (Stan pines x fem!reader)

A date with Stan, what could go wrong?

You never really knew what to expect from Stanley Pines. After all, this was the same guy who could sell you a so-called "ancient artifact" that turned out to be an old cereal box toy and still convince you it was worth every penny. So when he asked you out, you weren’t exactly sure how it would go. He wasn’t the flowers-and-chocolates type; instead, Stan was. . . well, Stan.

That’s probably what got you here, standing in front of the window, watching the unmistakable silhouette of the Stanmobile pull into your driveway. The thing was pretty loud. You heard the muffler rattle as Stan turned off the engine, and then the door creaked open with a metallic sound that made your eye twitch. A date with Stanley Pines. . . What could possibly go wrong?

Too nervous, you opened the door first before he even could knock and there he was, standing on your porch like some kind of hero from a forgotten old movie. Wearing a white shirt with the first buttons unbuttoned, dark brown trousers and. . . was he wearing an eyepatch?

As soon as he opened his mouth to greet you, you started a dialogue first. Oh damn, yes, that was awkward, but you kept going.

"Lookin' sharp," you teased, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, well, it’s not every day a guy like me gets to take a gal like you out,” he flashed you that wide, confident grin that didn’t quite match his eyes though. He shifted a little, like he wasn’t sure where to put his hands. “You ready for the best date of your life or what?”

You tried, really tried, not to laugh at how absurd the eyepatch looked on him. You leaned on the doorframe. “Okay, I gotta ask. . . what’s with the eyepatch? Did you lose a fight with a tourist or something?”

His grin faltered for a second and you swear you saw him hesitate. He scratched the back of his head, looking away, as if he was caught off guard for some ridiculous act. Yeah, right now he really wanted to wash away the shame. “Oh, uh, this?” he gestured to the eyepatch, trying to look casual. “Just, uh. . . battle wound. You know, dangerous life and all that.”

You tilted your head, amused, waiting for the real answer. “Stan. . .”

He gave himself a mental slap in the face, yanking the patch off with a quick flick of his wrist. "You saw nothing." he muttered with deadly seriousness before stuffing it into his pocket.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. For all his boldness, the fact that he tried to impress you, however clumsily, was so cute. “You don’t need to try that hard, you know. I. . . kind of like you just the way you are.”

His cheeks reddened, but just slightly, and he cleared his throat, shuffling awkwardly. “Yeah, well. . . don’t let it get to your head, alright?”

The passenger door of the Stanmobile creaked as you opened it and slid into the worn, cracked seat. The car smelled faintly of old leather and stale coffee, and the dashboard was littered with random trinkets, coins, and a few crumpled wrappers. Stan slammed his door shut, giving the steering wheel a hard pat before starting the engine.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked, glancing over at him.

The plan was simple — or at least, it was supposed to be. A nice dinner in town, maybe a little romantic walk after, and if things went well, who knew? But with Stan, nothing ever went according to plan.

As the Stanmobile sputtered its way down the road, you couldn’t help but glance over at Stan again. He was focused on the road, hands gripping the wheel just a little too tightly. There was a kind of quiet tension about him tonight that wasn’t there on the usual days when you stopped by the Shack. Maybe it was just the date thing, maybe he really was nervous? The thought surprised you, but you liked it. It made him more. . . real, in a way. You liked that side of him. 

Yeah, diner turned out to be everything Stan had promised and more. It was like stepping into a time machine that had malfunctioned halfway through. Neon signs flickered above the entrance, and the interior was a strange mix of retro and. . . You couldn’t find the right word to describe. The red vinyl stands were cracked and peeling, tarnished with age. It smelled of old oil and nostalgia, like a place that had long outlived its heyday, but still maintained it with stubborn pride. 

It looked like it hadn’t changed since the '50s, but it was full to the brim. Of course, he hadn’t thought to make a reservation.

“Should’ve figured,” Stan grumbled, glaring at the crow. “You’d think folks around here would have better taste than to crowd this dump.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Says the man who scams them daily.”

He gave you a wide smile. “Hey, I provide a valuable service. It’s called entertainment, toots.”

The jukebox in the corner of the room crackled to life, spitting out an old Elvis song that skipped every few beats. Stan’s brow furrowed in irritation, but there was something undeniably charming about the whole mess. It felt like a place he’d drag you to — not because it was fancy or impressive, but because it was something that always made happy and he wanted to share these feelings with you. Show them to you.

You were halfway through your milkshake (which, to be fair, wasn’t that bad, though Stan grumbled about the price) when the music changed. A slow, syrupy doo-wop tune hummed through the air, and Stan’s expression softened. His fingers tapped against the edge of the table, and he glanced up at you, his eyes shifting with something like uncertainty.

“So. . . you wanna dance?”

Your heart skipped a beat at that question, and for a second you wondered if you had heard him right. You blinked, then smiled. “With you? Absolutely.”

Stan stood, offering you his hand with a cocky grin. “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya, baby. I’m pretty much the king of the dance floor.”

You laughed, took his hand, and let him lead you into the tiny space between the booths. The floor was sticky and the lighting was terrible, but none of that mattered. You moved together, swaying awkwardly at first, but gradually finding a rhythm, Stan's warm hand slid down your back to your waist. In the world around you, it's just the two of you in your own little bubble of retro music and flickering neon light.

The date continued in typical Stan fashion - messy, loud, but weirdly charming. He ordered way too much food, insisting that “you only live once” and somehow managing to spill half a plate of fries onto the floor when his hand gestures got a little too wild. He told stories, some of them most obvious lies, but you could tell that a few were real, even though he never said so. Tales of his past, of scams gone wrong and of the time he got banned from New Jersey. You couldn't help but laugh together with him, because the sheer absurdity of it all made the evening much more enjoyable than you expected.

But just when you thought the night was going smoothly, the universe, and Stan’s luck, had other plans.

You were just halfway through your burger when the sound of sirens cut through the air, flashing red and blue lights flashed in the windows. Stan froze, his eyes widening just a little too much for someone who claimed to have nothing to hide.

“Uh, Stan, what’s with the cops?” you asked, already having a bad feeling.

Stan shrugged, a little too casually. “Probably just grabbing a bite to eat. Y’know, doughnuts and all that.”

Before you could answer, two policemen entered the diner and went straight to the table where you were sitting.

Stan's face changed instantly as he looked at you. “Uh. . . hey, why don’t we, uh, take our food to go?"

“Stanford Pines?” the cop asked, pulling out a notepad.

“Uh, it’s Sta-“ Stan came to his senses in time, suddenly sweating. He leaned forward, trying to give the guy his best innocent smile. “I think you’ve got the wrong guy, officer. I’m just here enjoying a nice, peaceful evening with my girl.”

The cop didn’t look convinced. “We’re going to need you to come with us.”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing between Stan and the cop, your heart sinking. “Stan, what’s going on?”

Stan bit his lip, rubbing his neck. “Eh, nothing to worry about, babe. Just. . . might have some, uh, unpaid parking tickets. No big deal.”

“Sta”- you wanted to repeat, but Stan interrupted you, clearly not letting you speak.

He avoided your gaze, focusing on the cop instead. “Look, officer, I’ll take care of the fines. Can’t we, uh, settle this quietly? I’ve got money.” he reached into his pocket, probably for his wallet, trying to salvage what was left of his dignity. Was he gonna pay with Stan bucks?

The cop didn’t budge, looking more annoyed by the second. But before you could process what was happening, the waiter reappeared next to your table, holding up the check. “Sir, your total is-“

But before he could finish the sentence, Stan grabbed your hand with a sudden burst of adrenaline. “C'mon! Time to make a quick exit,” he muttered, pulling you towards the door.

You barely had a chance to grab your things as he rushed to the exit, taking you with him, the cop’s voice rising behind you. “Sir! Sir, you can’t just-“

Too late. Stan was already moving at a speed you wouldn’t have thought possible for a man his age, practically dragging you across the diner floor. The bell above the door gave a loud ring as you burst outside, the cool night air hitting your face like a slap.

“What- Stan! What are you doing?” you shouted, trying to keep up as he raced toward the parking lot.

“Trust me, doll, I know what I’m doing!” he shouted back, fumbling with his car keys as you both headed straight for his battered old Stanmobile.

Stan yanked the door open, practically shoving you into the passenger seat. “Sorry, sweetheart, but we’re not getting arrested on our first date!” he said, giving you a grin that was way too proud for a man who’s running from the cops.

You barely had time to buckle your seatbelt before he slammed the driver’s door shut and jammed the key into the ignition. The engine sputtered, wheezed, and then roared to life with a sound like an angry chainsaw. “Atta girl, that’s it,” Stan muttered under his breath, patting the dashboard like it was a horse in an old western.

You glanced over your shoulder and saw a policeman running out of the diner, shouting something into a walkie-talkie. “S-Stan!”

“I see ’em!” Stan yelled, throwing the car into reverse and peeling out of the parking lot with a screech of tires. “Hold on tight!”

The car spun around, almost crashing into a lamp post. You were pretty sure you heard the cop yell something about backup, but all you could focus on was the blurred outlines of trees and neon lights flashing by as Stan raced down the street

“Okay, okay- this is fine,” you muttered to yourself, gripping the door handle hard. “We’re totally fine. Just a casual date. Running from the cops. No big deal.”

Stan burst into a loud laugher, clearly enjoying himself way more than he should have been. “Y’know, I’ve been in worse situations! Once outran a bunch of angry tax collectors in a boat! You’d be surprised what you can get away with if you’ve got the right distractions!”

“Stan!” you screamed in fear, and your heart jumped into your throat as the car swerved, almost hitting a raccoon running across the road.

“Relax, kid! I got this!” Stan assured you, his voice somehow both panicked and excited at the same time. He slammed on the gas, sending the car hurtling down a back road, away from the diner. The flashing lights of the police car in the rearview mirror were getting smaller, but you weren't sure how long it would last.

Just as you were about to ask if he had a plan (or if the plan was just "drive like hell"), Stan suddenly pulled off the road, skidding into a small dirt clearing hidden behind a bunch of trees. He cut the engine, motioning for you to stay quiet.

You sat there, breathless, scared, the sound of your racing heart filling the silence when a police car sped past, its siren fading in the distance.

There was a long, tense pause where you two just looked at each other. Then Stan leaned back in his seat, exhaling deeply. “Whew. Close call. That was cool, huh?” he turned to you, grinning like a kid who’d just gotten away with sneaking into a movie.

You couldn't help but stare at him, feeling something between disbelief and. . . oddly enough, admiration. Only Stanley Pines could turn a first date into getaway.

“Stan,” you finally said, breaking the silence, “we just fled a crime scene.”

“Eh, ‘crime’ is such a strong word,” he replied, waving his hand dismissively. “More like a. . . misunderstanding.”

You shook your head, a small laugh escaping your lips despite everything. Only with Stan.

But as the adrenaline slowly faded, you could see something else creeping into his expression, something much less cocky and way more. . . defeated, sad even. His hands tightened around the steering wheel, and his shoulders slumped.

“I really messed up tonight, huh?” his voice was quieter now, a lot more vulnerable than you’d ever heard him. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, just staring out the windshield. “I wanted to show you a good time. Prove I wasn’t just. . . y’know, some washed-up old guy who can’t get anything right. And look where we are. Hiding out in the woods, running from cops.” he laughed bitterly. “You probably think I’m an idiot.”

The silence that followed was heavy, you looked at him again. There was something heartbreaking about seeing Stan like this, behind all this bragging and show-off there was a man who truly cared what you thought of him. And right now, he looked like he had failed.

But then, through the trees, you noticed a glimpse of the sky. The full moon hung low, flooding the clearing with a soft silver light. It was strangely peaceful here now, away from the chaos what just happened, and you found yourself smiling no matter what.

You reached over and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “hey, Stan, look up.”

He frowned, confused, but did as you asked, his eyes following yours to the sky.

“It’s beautiful, right?” you said softly. “The full moon, the stars. . . this moment.”

Stan blinked, like he hadn’t expected that. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“And you didn’t mess up,” you added, turning to him with a soft smile. “Tonight was. . . well, sure, it was an adventure, but that's what makes you the man I love. You're not a loser, Stan. Not for me.

He stared at you, like he couldn’t quite believe what you were saying. “You- you really mean that?”

“Yeah,” you answered him, your voice filled with sincerity. “I’d take a wild night with you over a boring, perfect one any day.”

There was a long pause while your words seemed to reach him. And then, slowly, Stan’s face broke into a real, genuine smile. Not his usual cocky smirk or sarcastic grin, just a simple, warm smile.

“Y’know, you’re somethin’ special,” he said softly, his hand tightening around yours. “I don’t deserve ya, but... I’m real glad you’re here.”

You leaned in a little closer, your heart fluttering as the distance between you got shorter. “I’m glad too, Stan.”

The moonlight bathed the two of you in its soft glow, and in that moment, despite the chaos of the night, everything felt. . . right.

✮⋆˙ how they kiss (x reader)

Stan — fire

Stan’s kisses are not something you just forget

They’re all-consuming, passionate, fiery, rough sometimes, sometimes quick, but they always leave you wanting more even when you think you’ve had enough. No, you’ll never have enough of Stan. His kisses are always so sudden, intense, noisy, leaving you breathless and dizzy, because he is greedy not only for money, but also for you, for your attention.

Stan is especially fond of casually kissing you when you’re resting on his lap while he’s snuggled up in his favorite armchair, the TV playing in the background but neither of you paying attention to it. He relishes in the way you hold onto him while he lazily captures your lips with his. One of his arms is wrapped around your waist, pulling you close while the other rests on the armrest, his thumb gently caressing your skin. 

Or small, but promising kisses when he needs to give a tour to newly arrived tourists. “Hey, sugar, I gotta go now. But before I go-“ there he cups your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. Stan smiles as he leans in and presses his lips to yours in a brief, yet tender kiss.

When the two of you in his car, seats pushed back, his hands pulling you closer until you’re practically on him. He’s so fucking impatient.

Stan never just kisses, he claims you. His lips crash against yours, forceful, as if he’s trying to pull every breath out of your lungs. He kisses you until there's no air left in your lungs. Stan loves to touch you a lot, just feel you next to him is important, one hand gripping your waist, the other buried in your hair, pulling, demanding. He can cross the line sometimes, being too rough, touchy, but you love it. Stan’s hands slide up your waist, gripping, pulling, pressing you closer, as if there’s not enough skin-to-skin contact in the world to satisfy him. Stan knows how to kiss, where to touch, what parts of yours are sensitive, where you need him the most.

His touch is a flame that burns through you. And you swear that kissing him is hot. In all ways possible.

Stan’s mouth drops to your neck, kissing and sucking skin here too. He kisses the curve of your collarbone, leaving marks on your skin, proof of what’s his. “Mmhm, baby,” and just when you start to lose yourself in his warmth, he suddenly pulls away, leaving you gasping, eyes wide and filled with longing. You’re so lost. 

“What’s the matter, sugar? need more?"

He can’t help, he just adores that confused and needy face of yours, yeah, he’ll stop right when you’re aching for more. “Gonna beg for it?” he laughs, his smirk cocky, that asshole is so proud of himself and that makes you whine because he’s so fucking unfair. Stan knows exactly what he's doing, he just enjoys seeing how much you need him. And when you finally break, when you plead for his touch and kisses, nearly crying only to feel his hands and mouth on you again, he gives in, and it’s messy, tongue and teeth, like he’s starving.

Stan’s kisses are possessive, he claims the rights, which say that you are his and no one else will ever kiss you the way he does.

Ford — ocean

Ford is different. So different. Ford is a scientist and he kisses like a scientist. He doesn’t rush. No, Ford likes to study you, take his time like you’re an equation he’s solving. When Ford kisses you, it’s like he’s discovering something new. He’ll pause, looking into your eyes with that analytical smart gaze of his, as if he’s making sure you feel it too, making sure he’s not missing a detail. When he kisses you, he’s trying to memorize the taste of your lips, the curve of your smile, the way you breathe.

Ford loves to brush his thumb over your bottom lip, staring directly into your eyes. “Fascinating,” he’ll murmur. He watches the way your lips part, how your breathing stops when he leans in, eyes half-lidded, he can tell you’re nervous too. 

Ford kisses like a man who’s spent years alone, longing for connection but afraid to reach for it. 

Ford kisses you like you’re a secret only he’s allowed to uncover.

His kisses are slow. His lips linger, barely there, just a ghost of a touch before he pulls away, making you chase him, sometimes it makes you angry because you feel like his damn experiment, while you just want a normal kiss. But Ford is methodical, careful, like you’re something precious to explore. “You’re reacting just as I predicted.” 

And then, when he’s learned everything he can from those soft, little, slow kisses, his grip tightens. Ford becomes more insistent, as if the ocean’s current is pulling you under, deeper into him. His hands slide to the nape of your neck, fingers firm, holding you as his lips finally claim yours fully. The kiss feels like drowning, but in the most beautiful way, slow, consuming, the kind of kiss that leaves you weightless. 

Ford doesn’t leave you breathless the way Stan does. No, he leaves you calm, like waves crashing on the shore in the moonlight, powerful but never rushed. His kiss is something you think about hours after, lingering on your lips like the taste of saltwater after a swim in the ocean.

He’s wanted this for too long, and now that he’s finally allowed himself to have you, he’s going to savour every second, every shiver, every single breath of yours, every gasp of his name.

Stan Pines is the kind of man who can't just let you do anything without turning it into a compliment, like, every move you make, he's gotta say something. And it’s never normal. 

You could be bent over organising some random crap around the Mystery Shack and this man will make it sound like you’re posing for him. Because, yeah, you’re just trying to organize his disaster of a desk, sorting through all his crumpled receipts, ticket stubs, whatever the hell else he’s hoarded.

“Your doin’ god’s work, sugar,” and it’s not even subtle. You look over your shoulder, half expecting him to actually be paying attention to the pile of garbage you're dealing with, but no. He’s leaning against the counter, counting out cash from the register, but all you see is that smirk. The one that makes it very clear his mind ain’t on the paperwork.

“Sorting your trash is god’s work?” you quip back, rolling your eyes, but the way he’s watching you with that smirk of his, makes your cheeks flush a bit.

“You know what I mean,” Stan mutters and now he’s just full-on undressing you with his eyes, the cash in his hands forgotten. “ya ain’t gotta try so hard, baby, because ya could sit on your ass all day and I’d still think ya did somethin’ special.” and your face burns at that, but he sees it, of course, he does. Stan ain’t dumb, despite the act he puts on for tourists. He’s so much more clever than he looks, always has been. The moment he catches that excitement in your eyes, he’s grinning like he’s just won a damn lottery.

“You like that, huh? being told how good you are?”

You smirk back, trying to play it off, but your voice comes out a little breathier than you mean for it to. “all that for organizing receipts? maybe you should give me a raise.” 

Stan just laughs loudly. “yeah, sweetheart, you deserve the whole damn Shack.”

Or when, you’re just sitting at the counter, counting the cash from the register, going about your day and Stan? Well, Stan is “cleaning up,” which basically means he’s wiping the same spot for like five minutes straight while staring at you. You catch him, because he’s being too obvious with it. His eyes keep dipping to your lips every time you bite your pen and it’s distracting as hell.

“You’re too damn cute, y’know that?” he grumbles and it sounds like he’s mad about it, like you’ve done something wrong just by existing.

“You say that every day.” you shoot him a teasing smile, because yeah, this is the daily routine.

And Stan just sighs, smirking like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah, and I’ll keep sayin’ it, sorry, baby, couldn’t shut up about ya if I tried.” 

Then there’s when you’re fixing up one of the old displays, just tightening bolts or whatever and Stan’s “supervising.” Except by “supervising,” I mean, he’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching you work with that wide grin on his face, satisfied and clearly enjoying the view.

“Goddamn, honey,” he mutters. “you makin’ this place look good just by bein’ in it. Hm, maybe I should start charging you for the view.” 

You glance over your shoulder, raising your eyebrow, but smirking, because you know exactly what game he’s playing.

“What? I’d pay whatever ya want, sweetheart. You’re worth every penny.” 

Or you’re just in the kitchen, cutting up vegetables for dinner. The radio’s on low, the sun setting through the windows. Stan’s sitting at the table, pretending to read the newspaper, but every once in a while you catch him glancing over the edge, just watching you move around the kitchen. It’s quiet until he breaks it.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, y’know that?” his voice is so soft, too sincere for Stanley Pines, but when you look over, he’s still got that damn smirk on his face.

You pause, knife in hand, and raise an eyebrow. “For chopping onions?”

He chuckles, leaning back in his chair, arms behind his head. “Nah, sugar, it’s just the way you’re movin’ around in there, i dunno how to explain it, but damn, you look good in my kitchen.”

You snort, shaking your head. “I’m literally cutting onions, Stan.”

“Yeah, still sexy. That’s all I’m sayin’.”

Then there’s the mornings. You’re in the bathroom, brushing your teeth, hair a mess, wearing one of Stan’s old shirts that hangs way too big on you and he's leaning in the doorway, watching you like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. You catch his reflection in the mirror, raising an eyebrow at him, but he just shrugs with this lazy grin, continuing to admire to you.

“Can’t help it, sweetie, you look cute when you’re all domestic.”

you’re just brushing your teeth, but somehow, this man makes it sound like you’re doing the sexiest damn thing in the world

soooo I saw this absolutely adorable art of Stan Pines kissing someone's hand and I loved it so much, I just had to write something about it! hope you’ll like it ♡

Stan’s hand clasps yours, rough and warm, and it makes your pulse quickens at his touch. His grip is firm but careful, like he knows exactly how much pressure to use. He’s not the type to hold back, but there’s something so gentle and delicate about the way he lifts your hand toward his lips. 

You hold your breath, eyes wide, watching in stunned silence. And then, without a word, he presses a soft kiss to your knuckles.

Stan Pines just kissed your hand. 

You blink, heart practically jumping out of your chest, and it takes all your willpower not to squeak out loud. Did Stan Pines, the gruffest, toughest, most no-nonsense man you’ve ever met, just kiss your hand like some old-timey gentleman? What even is happening right now?

“Stan. . .” you manage to breathe out quietly. Inside, though, you’re screaming. You’re torn between laughing nervously and collapsing into a puddle of blushes and giggles at the unexpectedly tender gesture. “What— uh, what’re you doing?”

His eyes flicker up to yours for a second, and you swear there’s a little smirk on his face. He knows, he knows what he’s doing to you. “What? a guy can’t be a little smooth every now and then?” Stan’s just standing there like it’s the most casual thing in the world, like he hasn’t just flipped your entire reality upside down.

You’re frozen, staring at him, your heart pounding in your chest like you’ve just run a marathon, when all you did was stand there while this damn man stole every ounce of composure you’ve ever had with a single kiss to your hand. But he’s still holding your hand, his lips pressed to your knuckles. What the hell are you supposed to do? You’re so lost in your own thoughts. 

Oh god, he kissed your hand. Stanley Pines just kissed your damn hand. You try to say something, anything, but all that comes out is a nervous, shaky laugh.

“What’s the matter, sugar? cat got your tongue?” Stan raises a brow, lips quirking in that smirk he always gets when he knows he’s got the upper hand. He’s still holding you, still brushing his thumb over your knuckles like it’s no big deal, like this isn’t the most intimate thing he’s ever done. And you’re melting. 

“You— you kissed my hand,” your voice trembling and you swear you see his smirk grow just a little wider.

“Yeah, so? It’s called bein’ a gentleman. You kids these days don’t know nothin’ ‘bout that,” he teases, acting all casual, like he didn’t just knock the air right out of your lungs. Actually he’s enjoying this, he’s definitely enjoying watching you lose your mind over something so simple.

“You’re unbelievable,” you murmur, still feeling the heat on your cheeks, your shocked gaze runs over his face.

Stan chuckles softly, finally letting your hand go but leaning in just a bit, his voice dropping to a lower, more serious tone. “Yeah, well, guess I’m just full of surprises, huh?” he pauses. “but between you and me, sweetie, you make it pretty easy to be a gentleman.”

Your breath catches, your stomach doing somersaults. Did he just—? 

Before you can respond, he straightens up, giving you one last wink. “Don’t let it go to your head. See ya around, sweetheart.”

First post! 🪼

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Living/being with Stan (or Ford) just the domestic stuff rn. And just general headcannons that I've thought of.

(I can't get these out of my head and I need to put it somewhere, I'll also make a freaky version later)

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on the days you make dinner he'll come up from behind and wrap his arms around your waist and burry his face in your neck, and sways you to the music playing in the backround while you cook.

Saturdays are for sleeping in, especially for Stan. And there's no arguing with him, if you try to get out of bed he'll just drag you back down against his chest throwing the warm blankets back over you both, mumbling for you to stay.

When it comes to Ford you have to practically drag him away from his work and into bed. He appreciates it though, he doesn't how long hes been working till you come get him.Once you're finally in bed he holds you close like he's afraid of losing you while he sleeps.

Stan definitely calls you toots like that one episode with that spider lady, omg that has such a hold on me! Or sweetheart, lord have mercy!

Ford would probably call you darlin' or dear, something a little more on the polite side, might also call you sweetie.

For date nights Stan would definitely take you out on the town, maybe a fancy dinner and a bar after? For Ford I think he'd prefer something at the house, like a candle lit dinner and a movie, nothing too fancy.

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○Random thoughts about the Stan twins○

⚠️INAPPROPRIATE! MDNI!!!⚠️

《Also not proof read bc I'm lazy...》

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♤Stanley♤

🎱Definitely loves being rough with you in bed, and im talkin' tied up or handcuffed, blindfolding you FS

🎱Probably likes having some old music playing in the backround when he fucks you, but the sexy ones (he def has a Playlist)

🎱ABSOLUTELY has to have his hands on you at all times, especially around strangers. Like after he finishes a 'Mystery shack' tour and you're waiting behind the counter, helping customers check out Stan is standing behind you, his hand around your waist, glaring at any guy that tries to hit on you.

🎱Loves when you don't cover the marks he gave you the night before, especially when you wear a tank top and he can see all the "damage" he did while you rummage around the kitchen the morning after

🎱ass man 100% Loves slapping it whenever you pass him or are bent over, you swear he has a sixth sense when it comes to your ass

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¿Stanford?

📜At first doesn't seem like the type to want much to do with sex, constantly burying himself in his work/studying and chasing cryptids

📜oh boy are you wrong tho! Cuz the first time you guys fucked you swear he was gonna leave you're entire body covered in hickeys with how much he loved kissing and sucking on your skin

📜he's definitely in the softer side when it comes to actually p->v sex, but like I said loves kissing, sucking, and biting your skin

📜I think he'd also me massaging your body lightly as he's fucking you, especially around your hips and thighs, maybe your boob's? Who knows where his hands will end up next

📜ABSOLUTELY, undoubtedly a thigh man in my opinion. He'd love squishing them, especially when they're around his head, and he'd definitely be into thigh fucking. Just everything that involves your thighs

(Also Bill definitely fucked you when he possessed Ford)

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this came to me in a daydream… at work… don't ask: stan x reader who works at the mystery shack and has a flirtation / situationship going on with stan, one day they have to stay late at the shack which ends up with stan taking them on the cash register tee hee 🤭🧯 (do with that what you will) kisses x

Anon I love your brain! I'll start on that as soon as I can!

Also if you have any other ideas like this PLEASE send them in! 💘

The counter

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Content: SEX (p in v)

Ok y'all! 1/3 of the requests done! I'm still working on the other 2 bc I literally wrote this in like one night 💀

Also made this one a full fic bc I haven't done much for my man Stanley yet. Hope this is what anon wanted, I feel like I kept to the plot a little better this time

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Its been almost a year since you decided to work at the Mystery Shack to make some extra spending money. You'd retired early and moved to Gravity Falls for a quiet life, which wasn't constant because of the magic creatures.

Your hair had some gray streaks around your face and by your ears. You always dressed nice for your job, maybe a little outdated but you knew Stan loved to see you in more 70s atire. Makeup was usually on the lighter side, and LOTS of jewelry adorned your neck, wrists, and fingers.

One evening the gnomes broke into the shack trying to steal Mabel away again, and unsurprisingly they caused all sorts of damage. You offered to stay late and help clean up, which Stan gladly agreed to also hoping he'd be able to have some alone time with you.

It was late, cleaning up took much longer than anticipated so Stan sent the kids to bed, and you told Soos you'd finish up since he looked tired. Secretly you were hoping something would happen tonight as well, especially since his flirting had gotten more persistent the last few weeks. You suspected it had something to do with Mabel pushing him to get closer to you, but you're not complaining.

♧

Since you started working at the Mystery Shack, you always caught Stan staring at you or just loitering around you when you restocked. When you were behind the counter he'd stand behind you, almost guarding you and not so secretly staring at your ass. Rather quickly his silent looks turned into loud comments and flirty remarks, like whenever he ended a tour he'd lead customers into the gift shop.

"And welcome to the gift shop! Buy something and you'll get to talk to the most beautiful woman in the world!"

Stan gestures to you while leaning on the side if the counter wiggling his eyebrows at you. Rolling your eyes while helping the first customer helping them check out, your cheeks slowly burning a light pink.

♧

You were just about done with cleaning the gift shop part of the house when Stan walks into the room leaning on the door frame smirking. At first you don't notice him as your humming to the song playing on the radio and shaking your ass slightly while putting away the last few things under the counter.

"Lookin' toots"

Stans voice makes you jump bumping your head on the bottom of the counter. When you stand up a hand rubbing your head you look over at Stan (un)intentionally looking lower noticing a growing bulge in his suit pants.

"Someone's happy to see me"

Eyebrows raised and a smirk on your face you lean against the counter more obviously checking him out as he walks towards you.

"I'm always happy to see you toots"

He returns your teasing, which causes pink to creep from your ears to your cheeks. You're nat able to speak because you know you'll stutter so you just stare into his eyes.

"Whats wrong cat got y'a tongue?"

Stan is mentally freaking out as he slids his large hand around your waist pulling you closer lips almost touching.

"Can I kiss y'a? Been craving it for so long

..."

You can feel his whispers against your face, without answering you wrap your hands around his neck and connecting your lips. Stan makes a sound that's a mix between surprise and a whine when your lips connect, his other hand leaves the counter and grabs the back of your head deepening the kiss.

Stan licks your bottom lip asking for entrance, you part your lips in agreement and he slids his tongue against yours the kiss getting more heated by the second. You guys are all over each other in a matter of seconds, your back being pressed against the counter and your hands desperately grasping at his hair and clothes.

There was a pause when your both needed air, you both looked like you were gonna jump on each other again when Stan spoke.

"I need to be inside you"

You were almost sitting on the counter, hands behind you now as you're looking down at the much larger bulge in his pants.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

The second the words left your mouth it's like he snapped, you were sudden on your stomach on the counter ass up. Stans rock hard bulge pressing against your ass, his hands snake across your hips to the hem of your pants slowly undoing them. Once they're fully unzipped he pulls them off your legs and leaving small kisses on your lower back and tugging at your lace underwear.

"Wearin' the fancy stuff for me now?"

Stans voice is low and teasing as he pulls the underwear over the plump of your ass and let's them fall around your ankles. He slides his right hand down to your dripping folds gently rubbing your clit, his left hand is on your ass massaging and kneeding the flesh.

"So wet and I've barely touched you y'a dirty girl"

Stans voice is low and gravelly against your back while he leaves kisses up your spine till the edge of your shirt that's been pushed up. His fingers work your clit harder now, rubbing tight circles that have you gasping and clawing the counter.

"Please Stan! Don't stop"

You're whining only serves to turn him on more as he slowly dips one finger into you, and is practically sucked in by your greedy cunt. Stan groans at the feeling before adding another finger and pumping slightly to see your reaction.

"Aah fuck, harder!"

You arch backwards moaning rather loudly at the sensation, which caused Stan to use his free hand to clamp over your mouth.

"Shhh, don't want the kids hearin' us"

He whispers in your ear and you nod half moaning against his hand, your breath is heavy and vision glossy when he releases you. He continues to pump his fingers in your tight cunt scissoring them slightly to stretch you out while he leaves hickeys on your neck.

You're trying so hard to keep quiet but Stan's fingerings you so good you can't help the yelps and whines that slip from your throat.

"I said keep quiet"

Stan whispers against your neck before a loud slap is heard and you feel a sharp stinging pain on your left ass cheek. A loud yelp emits from your throat and your head drops between your arms, ass wiggling slightly to try and ease the pain.

"Think you're ready to take me toots?"

You frantically nod looking at him over your shoulder, your eyes are glossed over and needy the look making his cock twitch in anticipation. He removes his fingers that are soaked with your juices and licks them clean moaning at the taste.

He started undoing his pants and let them drop to his ankles, the same with his boxers. His cock is blushed red and rock hard, dripping with precum as he pumps it a few times groaning before rubbing the tip through your folds lubing up a bit.

"Shit toots can't wait to fuck you stupid"

His words make a shiver run through your body, your pussy clenching around nothing. Stan slowly pushes in breathing heavy and holding back moaning too loud, on the other hand you were whimpering and gasping. After giving you a second to adjust he snapped, and bottomed out starting a brutal pace.

You clap a hand over your mouth when he bottoms out to muffle your scream as your body is rocked by his thrusts. Hands gripping the counter as you loudly moan his name, which makes Stan grab a fistful of hair and yank you back into an arch.

"Told y'a to be fuckin' quiet"

His voice is stern and low as he's still pounding you so deep there's a bulge forming in your belly. He wraps a hand around your throat squeezing slightly to restrict your noise, your eyes roll back at the feeling pussy tightening around his cock.

You can feel it, you can feel everything he's doing to you, the way his fingers dig into your throat to every vein on his cock. You're so close to cumming but can't say anything, you're so fucked out all you can do is moan.

"So close babe, just hol' on"

Stan groans against the crook of your neck sucking a large hickey onto it, his thrusts getting sloppy. He slides his free hand down to your clit rubbing tight circles again, which causes you to whine loudly even through his throat hold. You cum all over his cock, pussy clamping down on him which causes him to spray his hot seed inside and collapse over your back.

You both are panting hard laying on the counter, Stan pulls out of you after a second admiring his work. Mixed cum dripping out and down your thighs, he slides his hands down your back grabbing both ass cheeks and squeezing.

"You're so hot like this toots"

A smirk etching onto his face as he grabs a few tissues and wipes you up, you mumble while your face is laying on the counter. He then lazily pulls your pants back up and carried you up to his room changing you into one of his old t-shirts and shorts. He lays you in his bed and climbs in with you pulling you close and drifting to sleep.

"Love y'a toots

Just a thought, if reader ever decided to give the stan twins flowers it would be wild soley because Stan and Ford grew up in a time where guys were supposed to give gals flowers, not the other way around LMFAO

Though, I feel like Stan would be over the moon about it even if he does make a fuss at the beginning about the fact that he should be getting you flowers and not the other way around. But that's got more to do with the fact that he doesn't really recieve genuine gifts all that often, but he does appreciate the gesture. And possibly steals a really big bouquet of your favorite flowers to give to you at a later time in retaliation-

With Ford on the other hand, it depends on when you give him flowers but for the most part he still gets flustered and bashful all the same. If it's for an amiable reason or to celebrate an achievement he thinks it's courtesy and although shy about it- he's grateful for the gift. If he's taken an interest to you, likely crushing on you already and you give him a gardenia- this man would short circuit and die on the spot. Granted it might actually be a really subtle way to say: "I reciprocate your feelings." or "I like you too." but kill the idea of Ford missing that detail when that man practically drowns in details. He definitely gets you a flower bouquet of your own at some point, most likely he makes it himself with Dipper and Mabel's help too.