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stanleypinesgf · 8 months ago

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Falling for Mystery - Chapter Nineteen

Falling for Mystery Masterlist Warnings: mostly fluff, mentions of: gambling, drinking and the trauma with the ex but it's not in depth, enjoy! Please note: this is a slow burn fic with eventual smut and mature themes, 18+ only and please check warnings at the start of chapters! i swear the second i post an apology for not writing, i get inspired to finish a chapter smh, oh well! TYSM for all the support so far!! w/c: 2,487 The last few nights had been a hazy blend of neon lights, full-bodied laughter, and the wild thrill of rolling dice. Vegas left us no better off, but not much worse either. It had been exactly what we’d wanted—a blur of spontaneity and freedom. But our relationship… well, somewhere between the casinos and the sunrises, we’d slipped into a rhythm as natural as breathing, like we’d been moving to this beat all along without realizing it. I was relishing this newfound feeling of security and warmth with Stan, and from what I could tell, he was too.

Now, as the glow of the city faded into the distance, Stan took us back out onto the open road. His grip on the steering wheel was firm and steady, a mix of confidence and pride that made me smile. In the El Diablo, he looked so at ease, like he was exactly where he was meant to be. I must’ve been watching him a beat too long, lost in thought, because he turned and shot me a curious look, one of his large hands giving my thigh a gentle squeeze.

“You okay in there?” he chuckled, a spark of concern flickering across his face, softening his usual bravado.

I grinned, feeling a warm glow in my chest. “Just admiring the view. It’s not half bad.”

A blush crept up from his neck, all the way to the tips of his ears, though he tried to shake it off, rolling his eyes with a bemused smile. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, but the faint pink lingered, making him look a bit softer in a way I had come to love.

The engine hummed in time with the miles ticking by, and for those first few hours, the drive was effortless. Stan’s stories flowed as easily as the road ahead, each one more exaggerated than the last. He gestured wildly with one hand as he talked, painting scenes so vivid they felt like memories we were living right then and there.

“Did I ever tell you about the time I almost got kicked out of a bar for winnin’ too many games of darts?” he asked, laughter dancing in his voice.

I shook my head, leaning in closer. “No, but I’m sure it’s a classic.”

“Oh, it was! I was on fire that night. Took down this guy who looked like he could crush a car with his bare hands. I swear, he was ready to throw me out, but I just smiled and said, ‘Hey, it’s not my fault you can’t handle the heat!’” He laughed, and I joined in, the sound filling the car like music.

We traded laughs, filling in gaps in each other’s retelling of the Vegas escapades, our best attempts at piecing together the blurry, half-remembered nights.

Noon slipped by in a flash, and we pulled over at a gas station in the middle of nowhere to grab a quick bite. Even under the harsh glow of the fluorescent lights, that dusty pit stop felt like an adventure. I picked out a bag of chips while Stan eyed the selection of sodas with the seriousness of a connoisseur.

“Caffeine or sugar?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Why not both?” I grinned, tossing two cans of Pitt Cola into the basket.

Every small thing, from picking out snacks to catching each other’s eye over Styrofoam cups of coffee, had a quiet magic. We had this feeling that there was nowhere else in the world we’d rather be. It was new for us both, this effortless sense of belonging together, and I found myself cherishing it, wanting to hold onto every simple, beautiful moment.

As afternoon faded to late day, the sky stretched wide and open above us, painted with long strokes of orange and gold. The glow spilled into the car, catching in Stan’s hair and casting soft shadows across his face. He was quieter now, his stories trailing off as the caffeine from his coffee wore thin. I watched him try to stifle a yawn, his hand moving to cover it as though I wouldn’t notice.

“Getting tired, huh?” I teased, brushing a hand across his arm.

He gave me a sheepish smile. “Nah, I’m golden, sweetheart,” he said, but another yawn betrayed him as his eyelids drooped at the corners, making me laugh.

“Uh-huh.” I crossed my arms, watching him struggle to focus. “Why don’t you let me take over for a while? You’re gonna pass out if you keep this up.”

His eyes flicked over to me, his expression somewhere between amused and dubious. “This is the Stanmobile we’re talkin’ about here. I don’t just hand her over to anyone.” He chuckled, but it was half-hearted; even he couldn’t muster up his usual teasing grin.

“Stan,” I said softly, giving him an encouraging look, “I spent months practically living out of my car and navigating roads all over the country. I know how to handle a lot of things… including your baby here.”

He gave me a long look, the stubborn glint in his eye flickering as he weighed my words. “You sure about this? She’s got a few quirks,” he warned, clearly struggling between his protectiveness and his exhaustion.

I nodded, reaching over to give his arm a gentle squeeze. “Trust me. Just close your eyes for a while and get some rest. I’ll keep her steady.”

After a few more moments of hesitation, he finally sighed, giving in with a reluctant but affectionate smile. “Fine, but anythin’ crazy happens and I’m takin’ back those keys.”

“Deal,” I replied, grinning as he finally pulled over to the side of the road. With a tired sigh and a stretch, he climbed out and made his way around to my side. Though he looked a bit worn out, he still offered a hand to help me out, that familiar spark in his eyes softened by the weight of a long day.

Once I’d slid over into the driver’s seat, he leaned in, adjusting the seatbelt and giving me an approving nod, his eyelids heavy but still holding that mischievous glint. After he closed my door, he walked slowly back to the passenger side, sinking into the seat with a contented sigh. He gave me a lazy smile, crossing his arms as he settled in. “Alright, let’s see what you got,” he teased, his voice warm and easy as he closed his eyes, leaning back to relax.

As I settled in behind the wheel, a quiet thrill bloomed at the thought of being trusted with something this important to him. Adjusting the seat, I eased the car down the highway, feeling the low rumble of the engine beneath my hands. Beside me, Stan leaned his head back, arms crossed, stubbornly trying to stay alert, though his face already showed signs of fatigue. Not five minutes later, he succumbed, slipping into a deep, even sleep. The gentle rise and fall of his chest was interrupted by soft, unbothered snores, each one a little louder than the last.

For a long while, it was just me, the steady drone of the road, and the rumbling sounds of his snores as we cut across the vast, open stretch of highway. The warmth of this moment washed over me, surprising me with its ease and simplicity. Memories of the past flickered through my mind, moments I’d long since buried, but somehow the softness and the trust we shared brought them to the surface. It was almost startling to realize how far I’d come from those days when love had felt like something sharp-edged, guarded, conditional. I used to think that was how it was supposed to be; tight control, anxiety like a shadow I could never shake. I’d spent years keeping my guard up, never giving too much, always careful to stay a step back. Back then, I’d told myself it was easier to keep people at a distance, safer that way.

But here I was, not even a year into knowing Stan, and he was trusting me, not just with his prized car but with himself. Every mile we travelled, the gap between what I’d known and what I’d found grew wider. I glanced over at him, his face softened in sleep, a faint smile still lingering on his lips even in slumber. He wasn’t trying to be anything but himself, and somehow, for the first time, I felt like I could do the same.

After a while, Stan stirred beside me, blinking awake with a lopsided, groggy smile. He glanced over, his voice thick with sleep as he asked, “How’s my girl holdin’ up?”

I shot him a quick grin. “The car’s running like a dream. Smooth as ever.”

Stan blinked, then let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Meant you, Sunshine. But glad to hear she’s doin’ alright too,” he said, laughing quietly. He rubbed his eyes and looked me over, the concern in his gaze unmistakable. “You okay to keep goin’ a little longer?”

I nodded, warmth spreading through me at the casual way he asked, as if watching out for me was second nature by now. “Didn’t think you’d be so protective while I’m behind the wheel,” I teased, a playful smile dancing on my lips.

“Protective’s just part of the package, sweetheart,” he replied, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “But wake me if you need a break, alright?” His eyes softened as he settled back into the seat, a hint of mischief still lingering even in his drowsiness.

“Well, if we keep driving straight through, we can skip the motel and get back to the Shack quicker.” The thought of returning to our cozy little space felt like a warm hug, and I cherished how naturally I could think of our shared life as home.

Stan’s expression brightened a bit at my words. “That sounds like a plan. I’d rather be back in our own bed than stuck in some dusty motel any day.” He shifted slightly, nestling into the seat with a contented sigh. “If you need me, just wake me, okay?”

“Will do,” I whispered, a smile tugging at my lips as I watched him drift off. Butterflies fluttered and warmth spread through me as he casually referred to his bed as “ours,” reinforcing the sense of belonging blossoming between us. The quiet trust we shared was quickly becoming my safe space, and I savoured each moment of this deepening bond.

It struck me, almost painfully, how wrong I’d been about what I thought I deserved. I’d spent years bracing myself for the worst, anticipating moments that would make me flinch or retreat. But here, there was only quiet warmth and an unwavering sense of trust. Stan had slipped past all the walls I’d built, and with him, it felt like my journey was coming full circle.

In a way, I’d set out on the road months ago thinking I was searching for a place to belong, somewhere I might finally call home. But as I glanced over at Stan, his relaxed face softly illuminated by the fading afternoon light, I realised I’d finally found it. We weren’t just heading back to a small town; I was on my way to the kind of home I’d never known was possible, one I wanted to hold onto forever.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden glow through the windshield, I found myself humming softly to the radio. The familiar tunes wrapped around us like a warm blanket, and I felt a sense of peace settle in my chest. I stole another glance at Stan, his lips curled in a contented smile even in sleep.

“Hey, Stan,” I whispered, nudging him gently. “Wake up and watch the sunset with me.”

He stirred, blinking slowly as he adjusted to the light. “What’d I miss?” he mumbled, a lazy grin spreading across his face.

“The best view in the world,” I replied, tilting my head toward the horizon.

His eyes sparkled with recognition, and he leaned closer to the window, taking in the vibrant colours painting the sky. “Now that’s a sight worth wakin’ up for,” he said, turning to me, the soft light catching the warmth in his gaze.

“Yeah,” I said, feeling a swell of happiness. “It really is.” Stan's expression shifted as he took in the scene, and he suddenly sat up straighter. “Wanna pull over and watch it properly?”

“Good idea,” I replied, my heart racing with excitement.

Without thinking twice, I pulled over to the side of the road, the engine humming softly as I shifted into park. The sun hung low, casting golden rays that danced across the landscape. As I opened the door, he was already out and walking around to my side, a playful glint in his eye. “C’mere gorgeous,” he said, a hint of sleep lingering in his voice. With a gentle lift, he scooped me up effortlessly, placing me on the hood of the car, crossing to the other side and climbing up next to me. He settled down, our shoulders brushing as we leaned back to take in the view. The sky shifted from orange to deep purple, streaked with hints of pink that seemed to mirror the fluttering in my chest.

“It’s perfect,” I breathed, glancing sideways at him. He was gazing at the horizon, a contented smile on his face. I couldn’t help but smile back, my heart swelling with the moment.

“Not half as perfect as you,” he said, turning to me with a teasing grin. The sincerity in his voice sent a warm shiver down my spine.

Before I could respond, he leaned closer, his hand brushing against mine, fingers intertwining. The world around us faded, and suddenly it felt like it was just the two of us, suspended in time. My breath caught as he tilted his head, closing the distance between us in a heartbeat.

His lips met mine softly, a gentle exploration that deepened as I leaned into him, melting against the warmth of his embrace. It was a kiss filled with the promise of everything we were building together, a testament to the journey we’d embarked on. The sunset bathed us in a golden glow, wrapping us in a cocoon of warmth and intimacy.

When we finally pulled apart, breathless and smiling, I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath me. “I could get used to this,” I murmured, watching the last rays of sunlight dip below the horizon.

“Yeah, me too,” he replied, his voice low and sincere. “As long as it’s with you.”

We sat there for a while, the cool evening air settling around us as stars began to twinkle in the deepening sky. It felt like home, like we were exactly where we were meant to be—together, facing whatever lay ahead.

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#stanley pines #stan pines #stan pines fluff #gravity falls #stan pines x reader #reader insert #eventual romance #eventual smut #slow burn #first fic pls be nice

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stanleypinesgf · 8 months ago

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Ford Pines — Gunplay

(nsfw drabble, minors dni!!!)

Ford Pines x GN!Reader

Summary: You’re a freaky, like REAL freaky one and it just so happens that Ford carries a gun around all the damn time… and you just can’t help yourself.

— 💜

You had to beg Ford to try anything new in bed.

You were a little too freaky for your own good, you always knew that. You’d been high off your ass a couple of times when having sex and you barely remembered what happened the morning after, only having marks and mysterious fluids on your body as evidence of your adventures. Now you were a little more settled, being that you were in a stable relationship with Stanford, but that risky side of you wasn’t gone, obviously. You had noticed how Ford was pretty vanilla, very gentle and loving when it came to sex, and to anything in general really. You wouldn’t have it any other way, but there was still that something… some spark you were missing. And apparently, your partner was a gun kinda guy, he had many types of cool alien guns he’d brought from the years he’d spent hopping dimensions, as he’d told you, and some others he’d modified himself. The fantasy of Ford defending you by aiming his gun at any threat already had you dripping, your dirtiest side taking over some nights when you just had to touch yourself at the thought.

Eventually, you resolved to try and ask him if he’d be willing to do some gunplay in the bedroom, because god damn did you need it badly. It was a hard task, a lot of kissing and begging involved before Ford finally gave in to your request.

“Please, my love…” you made your best pleading voice as you sucked a sensual kiss to Ford’s neck, rutting your hips down on his lap to try and work him up. But of course, such an unusual ask had left him a little shocked.

“S-Stardust, I-“ his breath hitched with another kiss you left, this one turning to a hickey as you nipped at the skin of his neck. But Ford’s hands found your hips, stopping your motion so he could actually concentrate. You pulled your face away from his neck with your brows slightly furrowed and your best pleading, needy eyes. Fuck, weren’t you a sight for sore eyes.

“That’s too dangerous, my love…” Ford’s eyes trailed over your face, as if silently asking what was wrong with you for you to want such a thing. But his hand was gentle and soft when he cupped your face on it, his gaze with a flicker of worry. “I wouldn’t bear the pain of hurting you in the slightest…” was all he could manage to try and discourage you.

But you turned your face to kiss his palm, your lips lingering there for a millisecond longer than needed, and you slowly fluttered your eyes open after that gentle peck. “Please…” you begged with a whisper, then one of your hands gently held Ford’s in place as your lips trailed down his wrist, slowly and teasingly. Along the way, you muttered some more pleads, whimsical and needy. Then your lips moved back to his hand, his fingers more specifically, and you kissed each one of them, gently sucking at the tips. Each time you’d finish kissing one of them, you’d look right into Ford’s eyes and whimper a “please” again. When you got to his sixth finger, your lips lingered a little longer, this time sucking the finger as if it were his cock. He knew that feeling all too well, how you’d do exactly the things you knew would drive him crazy. But you staring right into his eyes while absolutely worshipping him to try and get him to fulfill your sick fantasy, that was what did it.

Ford let out a defeated groan, rolling his desk chair closer to a drawer that seemed to be locked. It wasn’t unusual for him to have dangerous things locked down at the basement anyway, it was his lab and he experimented with anything he found, so many dangerous chemicals and objects could be found down there. But he turned the key and opened the drawer only to reveal a handgun that had a futuristic look, most likely a product of alien technology you had little to no knowledge of. Your eyes widened slightly with expectation and a bit of surprise because, apparently Ford gave in, just like that.

“On your knees. Now.” Ford’s voice was different when he said this, darker, and his eyes had a lustful edge to them as well. You could only answer with a grateful whimper and immediately got off his lap and on your knees in front of him, expectant to anything he’d tell you to do. You weren’t only down bad, but also absolutely infatuated with this man, and the need you felt only made you more submissive to Stanford. You didn’t know what to expect, you weren’t expecting anything in specific when he actually accepted. But it took you off guard when he put the gun at level with his hips, right in front of where his cock strained his slacks, pointed at you. He must’ve noticed when you licked your lips, because he gave a nod and commanded firmly again. “Go on. Suck.”

Your eyes looked up at him, at how he seemed to both want this and absolutely despise it at the same time. Stanford adored you, his one and only and the love of his life, but when you begged to be submitted and threatened so eagerly… if there was something harder than to keep you away from harm and keep you safe, it was to resist you. He watched intently as you gingerly kitten-licked the muzzle, a little moan escaping you as you felt the cold, odd-tasting metal. If one lick got you so worked up, Ford couldn’t wait to see what you would look like with the whole barrel in your mouth. You slowly started to take more and more deeper into your mouth, lips slightly trembling along the cold surface and making you gag with your own saliva. Because yes, you are salivating more than usual; a result of the arousal, excitement, and nervousness of encountering yourself sucking on a gun that you have no idea if it’s loaded or not. You trust your lover, of course you do, and he would never even dare hurting you. But the gun still makes you shake and tears prick at your eyes, the thrill is too good to stop, the slight fear only heightens your arousal. Before you know it, you’re drooling all over the gun, sloppily taking what you can, whimpering at the sensation. Ford’s breath had already become more labored, just the show you were putting on was enough to make him painfully hard. You only noticed when he abruptly pulled the gun away from you, a trail of saliva still connecting your tongue with the muzzle, and you looked up at Ford’s flushed face. Only then you noticed his hands were quite literally shaking, either with anticipation, need, or fear of accidentally hurting you. When you caught your breath a bit more, you slowly started to move your hands up to his belt to undo it. He didn’t stop you, and that meant he wanted this, just couldn’t even register why, so he couldn’t ask for it properly. Your dear love, although much older and presumably wiser than you, was already and overstimulated mess in your hands, and the least you could do for him right now was taking his painfully hard cock in your hand, pumping it a few times, and then gently wrapping your lips at the tip.

It was a gentle gesture, yet enough to make Stanford shudder and let your name out of his mouth with a choked gasp. His free hand found its way to your hair, shakily stroking. But your gaze wandered towards his right hand which still held the gun. You reached for it, carefully not to startle Ford, and brought it closer to your face. The only thing Ford could do was stare, and later whimper when your lips left the tip of his cock to suck on the gun’s muzzle again, your hand still attending to Ford’s needs. Then you did the opposite, moving your mouth back to Ford’s aching cock while you stroked the gun. You were a vision, way too erotic for him to hold on any longer. You could see it in the grimace of pleasure and also shame that was plastered on Ford’s face, he was so painfully close and you could feel his cock throbbing in your hand. With your flushed face and reddened lips from sucking, you looked up at Ford, your glazed eyes could’ve made him faint right then and there.

“Please… cum on my mouth… wanna taste you, baby…” you breathlessly pleaded, still erotically and eagerly stroking both his dick and his gun, alternating with your mouth on either. Your plead wasn’t unheard, it was about a minute or two before Ford’s muscles stiffened and relaxed again a few times, his hot cum spilling on your tongue and a little bit spilling out from your mouth, making the edges of it dirty. So messy, but you always enjoyed to be messy and Ford was clear on that. He couldn’t help staring, even if he’d already cum, the way you eagerly cleaned him up with your tongue was impossible to ignore.

After you tucked him back into his boxers, you nuzzled closer to the warm bulge, leaving light affectionate kisses on him, as if it didn’t affect him nearly as much as it actually did. Then your gaze turned to the gun, and your curiosity made you ask.

“Is it actually loaded?” You nodded towards the gun so Ford knew what you referred to, the aftershocks of his orgasm still blurred his mind.

“Always is.” Ford breathed, and you felt another shock of arousal go straight to the lower half of your body at the knowledge that you just lived through the real deal, and it was hot as fuck.

#this is FILTHY #I’m not a Ford girlie but DAMN #my friend is a talented writer omg

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