disco_date.discard('robbie'): ❤️💗(AO3 Link) (tumblr post coming soon)
Swooning Over Stans: What if Robbie hadn't interrupted your final date?
Satisfaction Guaranteed ❤️💗 [Read on AO3]
You're a lonely homebody, looking to add a bit of spice back into your life.
When a strapping young vacuum salesman delivers himself right to your door, you just can't help but invite him in.
Green Is Definitely Your Color ❤️💗 [Read on AO3]
In which body paint and Stan's mouth save Halloween (but ruin a perfectly good costume).
Keep It Cool ❤️ [Read on AO3]
A broken A/C and some Stan belly appreciation.
Fall Into Me, And Then... 💗 [Read on AO3]
Childhood Best Friends to Lovers with a clueless Teen!Stan.
Summer Lovin’ ❤️ Some summer fun with Teen!Stan and friends.
Wait ❤️ Teasing Young!Stan during his tour at the Murder Hut.
Patience ❤️ [Part 2 of Wait] Your actions on the tour have consequences.
Soft Cotton ❤️💗 An intimate moment; playing with Young!Stan's white t-shirt.
Found In a moment when you're down and crying, a stranger comforts you.
Friandise 💗 [Read on AO3]
Stan gives you more to feast on than just Stancakes in bed.
<1k Words
The Derby Blues 💗- You accompany "Stan" to the Kentucky Derby
Rasberries for Breakfast - Stan blows raspberries on your tummy
It Hits the Fan - Stan's past catches up to the both of you
Apartment Hunt - A mini heist with Stan in a stranger's apartment
<500 Words
Dip & Tow 💗- You join Stan in his bed one night on the Stan O' War II
“Are You Still Awake?” - Stan has trouble sleeping; you comfort him
The Usual ❤️- An intimate, stolen moment in The Shack's gift shop
Lucky? - Stan's thoughts about you, wearing his jacket while out on a date
A Bar by the Bay - Sharing shots with a handsome older sailor
Happy - For the first time in maybe ever... you're happy
Ford Pines x Reader
You're The First (The Last, My Everything) ❤️- [Read on AO3]
A tender moment turns into your first time together with Ford.
Galaxy Ford - Ford helps you study for an exam [Read on AO3]
“You Can’t Keep Doing This” 💗 - A stolen moment in Ford's lab (and lap)
“My Hand’s Getting Awful Lonely...” - Ford works out a pickup line
A Casual Chat ❤️- A video call with Modern!College!Ford gets a bit out of hand
Musings
Stan vs Ford: Bringing You Gifts/Treasures
Stan vs Ford: Foreplay ❤️
Stan vs Ford: Falling Asleep
Stan as a cop (he'd never be a fucking cop lol)
Stan x Reader x Ford - You have a date night in and fall asleep on the couch
Stan x OC
"Red" ❤️- Post-Swooning Over Stans, Bri meets back up with Stan [Read on AO3]
Orange, Pink Stan helps Em celebrate their birthday in style
Fanfiction and artwork all dedicated to a romantic February Gravity Falls experience! This is a mostly suggestive/nsfw zine, but was a lot of fun to put together! Stop on by and enjoy the contributions!
View the zine here: GravityFallsXReader-DropBox
Contributors:
@the-archivist-writes - Organizer
@dontbeanassbutt - Author and formatter
@a-thing-forgotten - Artist (spot, graphics) and formatter
@arachegeek - Artist (cover, spot, graphics) and formatter
Some Discord friends and I will be putting together an invite-only Gravity Falls x Reader Zine for Valentine's Day! It'll be low-pressure, digital, and available for free featuring art and writing.
If we're mutuals (I follow from @themightyrancho ) and you'd like to participate, shoot me a DM!
Pairing: Stanley Pines x Gender Ambiguous Reader
Rating: Explicit
Tags: Gender-Neutral Reader-Insert, Masturbation, Semi-public masturbation, Fantasizing, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Power Imbalance, Age Difference, Pet Names, Voice Kink, Belly Kink, Cigars, Smoking
Working minimum wage at a tourist trap at this stage in your life wasn't on your bingo card.
But then again, frantically trying to get off in the storage closet of said tourist trap wasn’t on there either.
You already had a crush on your stupid, sexy, geriatric boss. He was the only good thing about this gig– a bit of hard eye-candy to get you through the day. He was definitely entertaining, in a corny sort of way. He made you laugh, whether on purpose or not, and that almost made up for the lack of a proper break room.
Normally, you can keep it in your pants. But today, Mr. Mystery came into the gift shop as Stan Pines– only partly dressed in his getup.
The old man had his jacket and dress shirt undone, revealing his beater and medallion underneath. He didn’t have his girdle on yet, so his paunch hung out and over his belt tantalizingly.
He was nursing a hangover, you assumed, with how tired he seemed, dragging himself through the doorway with a groan. He’d had his glasses in hand, rubbing his eyes as he spoke, more rough than usual, as if that was possible.
“Remind me never to never pull an all-nighter again,” he huffed, rubbing the back of his fez-less head. His full head of hair and decent hairline is truly impressive for his age.
“Woke up on the wrong side of the bridge today?” you hid your ogling with one of your friendly jabs, tapping a Mystery Shack branded pen on the register where you sat.
His eyes shot to the vending machine, then to you in a glare. “Get to work,” he’d said, lacking his usual witty comeback.
“Aye aye, Captain,” you saluted, before dipping into the hidden drawer for the latest inventory list.
You saw Stan move from the corner of your eye, patting his suit in search of something, but finding it in his inner jacket pocket. He withdrew a thick cigar and a matchbook before tapping his pockets again, seemingly missing an item.
“Damn,” he cursed under his breath, coming up empty on his search. “Hey kid,” he said to get your attention.
“Hm?” You pretended to look up as if you weren’t already staring.
He nodded his head in your direction. “There a cigar cutter in there?”
“Oh, uh, let me see,” you open the drawer again and give it a scan, brushing various paperclips and pencils around in search of the item in question.
Impatient this morning, Stan let out a sigh, approaching the register to take a look for himself. He was by your side then, nudging his way into your space as he looked, roughly sweeping items around in a much more brutish way.
He stood with his chest at eye-level, the engraved medallion he always wears was on full display among the nestle of silver chest hair. It glistened in the fluorescent lights of the shop, sparkling, luring you like a magpie. He was close enough to smell his cologne, a bit overwhelming as he put on a bit too much in his haste to get ready.
“Ah-ha!” Stan said, finding the cutter in the back of the drawer behind the stapler. “Gotcha.”
He pulled back, immediately cutting the cigar and popping it in his mouth.
And oh God, he looks fuckin’ good with it caught between his teeth.
Looking for the matches again, Stan pat his pockets out of habit. You spied the matchbook on the ground and went for it, bending down and picking it up from Stan’s feet. He was watching you when you came back up, offering it out for him.
“Thanks, Doll,” Stan said around the cigar, his fingers brushing yours when he took the matches.
Doll.
The pet name echoes through your head now as your hand works, sounding so natural on his tongue with that gravely voice.
You picture in your mind the sight that followed and was the final spark in your kindled arousal: Stan striking the match and lighting the cigar expertly, giving it a couple puffs.
Your eyes were wide, and you were surely slack-jawed and drooling. Stan blew the smoke away from you both, looking you up and down as he did.
There was a pregnant pause, something hanging in the air as Stan silently took another drag as he sized you up.
“Get back to work,” he finally said, breaking the silence as he exhaled. “Think I pay ya t’stand around?” He shot over his shoulder as he turned and made his way to the back door.
“Y-yes. I mean no!” You scrambled, grabbing the inventory list and clipboard. “I’m gonna go– count some merch.”
“Congratulations,” Stan had waved you off, exiting the shop with a puff of smoke.
So here you are, shorts and underwear around your ankles, leaned desperately against a box of overpriced panther shirts as you crank it to the thought of your boss dicking you down.
It’s shameful, and that just turns you on even more. You have to bite your lip, stifling your moans as you picture that barrel chest and portly stomach pressing into your back as he takes you from behind.
Flashes of what brought you here flip through your mind like a Rolodex to ramp you to your peak.
That cologne, the smell of him, how it lingers in your nostrils. The way his lips wrapped around that cigar. His fucking chest hair, unruly and wild.
The thought of getting caught eggs you on too, adrenaline spiking in your veins.
What would he do?
He'd have to punish you. Use those thick, calloused hands on you to hold you down and teach you a lesson, right here in the gift shop.
You come to the thought of that gold chain smacking you in the face as he rams you, your knees pressed into your shoulders. You have to slap a hand over your mouth, caught off-guard by how hard your orgasm hits you over the head like you’re Wile E. Coyote.
And that was the first, but far from the last time you masturbated to Stan Pines.
Just wait until you see him in his boxers tomorrow.
Pairing: Ford Pines x Gender Ambiguous Reader
Rating: Explicit
A tender moment turns into your first time together with Ford.
A/N: "First time" and sexuality/experience of Ford and reader are purposefully ambiguous here, up for interpretation. In my mind, they're both demisexual here.
You didn't know if this day would ever come.
And now that it has, you try your best not to be overeager. Try not to scare him off, one way or another.
Neither of you are strangers to the technicalities of it. But turning theory into practice with each other– that's what sets your gut full of butterflies ablaze, poor little things.
He is soft– you know this already. His wool sweater, his grey hair. The way he looks at you.
More is revealed to you now, unsheathing him from the cable knit confinement; you find his stomach, plush yet strong and toned under your fingertips. His downy chest hair. The skin surrounding old scars, shiny and begging to be kissed.
His touch when you shed your own garb, gentle yet assured.
Yes, everything about him is soft now, after all these years.
Well– almost all of him.
You feel the protrusion against your inner thigh, and can't help but giggle from above him as your mouths part from each other.
Your pulse thrums in your veins, and Ford traces it along your neck to your clavicle thoughtfully. He keeps going, eyes flitting up to your face to watch as he cups your chest, thumbing over your nipple.
You gasp, biting your lip to stifle a moan. Ford chuckles, enjoying the way his action brings forth a reaction. Always analytical, a bit of his dark side seeping through.
Burying your face in his tattooed neck, you try to hide the heat in your face. Instead, the smell of smoke and cedar fills your nose (surely from his “shaving” earlier), only stoking your arousal.
Ford’s hand moves from one side of your chest to the other, leaving goosebumps in its wake. His hands are so big, and they cup you so perfectly.
In retaliation, you give the star at his jugular an open-mouthed kiss, tonguing the cutesy image. It makes Ford suck in a breath, sensitive there. When you bite and suck, he groans, and you feel his member twitch against you.
“Don't look at him, look at me,” Ford half-jokes, grabbing your behind and giving it a squeeze.
You obey, pulling back to look at him in his warm eyes, freed from his glasses. The lines there deepen as he smiles, reaching up to brush away the hair that's fallen in your face before he cups your cheek.
After a moment, your head turns in his hold to kiss his thumb. Then his index finger, then the next. Ford blushes, fully reddening when you take one of his middle fingers’ tips between your lips, tongue swirling along the pad. He lets out a breath through his nose, steeling himself.
Your hand goes to his belt, though it stops to pet the dark hair above it along the way.
Ford’s unoccupied hand meets yours at the buckle, pulling the old leather through. He sighs in relief as you flick the button open and draw the zipper down, revealing his tented, plaid boxers.
You ask if this is okay.
“More than,” he answers, taking your chin between thumb and forefinger, bringing you in for a kiss. Your tongues touch, swirling around one another slowly.
He moans in your mouth when you palm his cock, causing it to leak into the burgundy fabric. You free it from its confines, and it springs forward.
Deep pink, smooth– he “shaves” down there, too.
He nudges against your palm, responding to your touch. It's fascinating, empowering. You press firmer against the length of him before pulling back, and it bounces with your movement again, spilling more precome.
“Enjoying yourself?” Ford smirks fondly, running his fingers along your spine.
“Very much,” you laugh, feeling hot in the face again, yet emboldened.
You wrap your hand around his girth, giving a gentle test stroke. Ford gasps, mouth falling open.
Another movement, followed by another in quick succession, earns a full-throated moan.
It's beautiful, deep and baritone. You want to make him make that noise again.
He distracts you though, when his hands go to your hips. The feeling of your waist in his hold has your mind whirling a bit with lustful visions, potential of what's to come.
“Let me touch you,” Ford says. “Please.” He adds.
You nod, biting your lip as you shift from your place straddling his muscular thigh. Tugging your underwear down, the air hits you with a chill. You shiver, but aren't cold for long as Ford’s warm palms immediately engulf the newly exposed skin, calloused and steady.
“This alright?” Ford asks, eyes to your face again to make sure his movements are welcome.
“Yes,” you breathe. “God, yes.”
He smiles up at you, overjoyed to hear so. His fingers slide along the sensitive flesh between your thighs where you yearn for him, others at your cheek.
“You’re beautiful,” he muses, thumb running along your bottom lip.
“I was about to say the same thing,” you laugh. He really is, coiffed hair mussed and eyes dark with arousal.
Beautiful… just like that noise he made, that you long to repeat.
On a mission, your hand moves again, making a fist around his length, bringing it up and down.
You find a rhythm in tandem between one another’s legs. It's slow at first, gaining speed as your moans ramp up.
Overwhelmed by pleasure, your hips start to chase it, grinding into Ford’s hand which never waivers.
Ford curses underneath his breath, panting as you thumb the head of his dick with each pass.
The muscles of his neck bulge as he swallows, star dancing, beckoning you forward. You pepper kisses along his chiseled jaw, his dimpled chin, nipping here and there.
Your fist rises and falls quickly now, fueled by the smattering of moans, how his chest heaves. The way his fingertips dig into your side, anchoring you to each other.
“I’m- I’m close,” he warns, still stroking your core with a fervor of his own. You agree, feeling the band in your stomach stretch higher and higher.
“I love you,” you blurt out among the sweet nothings, immediately regretting the timing in the back of your mind, the forefront swarmed with pleasure as the band snaps.
“I love you too,” Ford echos tenderly. “So much.” He holds you as your release washes over you in waves, painting his hand.
He kisses you deeply as you whimper.
Your grasp around him, which halted as you came, returns with vigor. He has to break the kiss when you return to stroking.
You bite into the juncture of his neck and shoulder and he groans out a curse.
“Do that again,” he begs. “Please."
And you do, harder this time, earning another sweet sound, then a gasp of your name as he comes across your knuckles, on his contorting stomach. The vibrations of his final moans echo through your bones.
You slow your movements, your tongue licking soothingly where your teeth just sank into his flesh, on the verge of breaking skin.
Ford’s fingers twitch at your side as he comes down from his high. After a moment of you both just catching your breath, he nudges you with his nose, getting you to look at him.
“You’re wonderful,” he says, planting a kiss to your cheek.
“You just keep taking my lines." You don't let him get far pulling back before you close the distance again, this time on his lips.
Your clean fingers trace along his neck where the bite mark remains, purpling. “A bit of a masochist, are we?”
Ford flushes, Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulps. “You could say that,” his eyes skirt away, his short answer speaking volumes.
Definitely something to explore later.
“I love you,” the words bring his gaze back to your face.
Ford wipes his hand on his pants before cupping your face in both, cradling it.
Hey gang! Welcome to the 2025 GF Trick or Treat event! Rules and details below 🧵:
- This is a fun casual event that runs from September 20th to October 31st. All artists and writers are welcome!!
- The rules of the event are simple, and similar to “Boo-ing”: find someone in the GF fandom, and surprise them with a GF-based Halloween doodle, one-shot, or art piece of GF characters or even GF ocs (GF AUs are absolutely welcome as well!). Then, let the receiver of the ‘treat’ know to put this emoji combo (💫🎃🌲) in their social media handle, and have them go to find someone else to surprise with a gift!
The goal here is to make sure that efforts are spreaded out to include as many people as possible, and filter who may have received a gift already. It is understandable if you want to surprise mutuals first/someone receives several gifts all at once though!
- Make sure to tag your art with [GFTrickorTreat2025] if you can! It would be amazing to see what everyone has done and compile it into one area!
- Make sure to absolutely respect boundaries regarding the content of the art that you send people. Keep it SFW!
- Finally, have fun!! Let’s include as many people as possible! 🎃🎃🎃
hi pitt!!! i was wondering if stan's first date in SOS was possibly inspired by the song First Date by Ninja Sex Party?? and if it wasn't, then the coincidence is very funny lol. if you haven't heard it i highly recommend it, it's very fun!
Thank you for writing!!! I didn't think about that song at the time the date was being written, but I saw it recommended by some players after haha. I definitely used to listen to NSP back in the day!
the #1 stan pines fics mvp is writing again?? 2024 is saved the sun is shining the crops are growing we are so back babeyyy, gods bless and thank you
I know this is very old but thank you it means a lot!! I've really gotten back into things and the support knowing that people still care makes me :') eee
