April is officially over! And I can't go on long enough about how blown away I am with the turnout of the event, I never expected this many people would be interested! I'm still kicking my feet scrolling through all the amazing fanfic and art everybody shared <333
I especially would like to thank the person who ran the Twitter account for the event!! That is seriously so so awesome of you, thank you for handling that!
And of course my mod and helper in all things pinesot4pril related, @dippers-search-history
Thank you everyone for participating!! See you next year :)
Inspired by and taken from convos/ideas I had with @inpermanences! If you're out there, this one's for you! <3
Just before the Summer, Stan ends up getting confronted by Mabel and Dipper's parents about the twins’ plans for after graduation. He kinda gets it. It's understandable, when you don't have a bond like he and Ford do with the kids. But Dipper and Mabel have wanted this for years, God knows how long he's spent talking about it with them over the phone or facetime or letters. And they're adults now! They could make their own decisions. Honestly, if the twins had decided to run off to The Stan O’ War II the minute they turned 18, Stan wasn't sure he'd have it in himself to stop them. Shermie's son and his wife should honestly be glad that their children stuck around to finish their senior year when Ford could have easily gotten them their degree while on the ship.
He appreciated their concern, of course. What parent wouldn't be a bit worried about their kids finally leaving home? But, they've got it all planned out! They've been looking forward to this for half a decade now, after all. Mabel and Dipper would enroll into online schooling for a university of their choice and live full-time on the Stan O’ War II while Ford doubles as a tutor. They'd get an incredible education, go on amazing adventures, and at the end of the day, they'll all pile into bed together to start it all over again. They'd be living the dream!
And it's not like Stan didn't understand the parents’ feelings. They were jealous, he was sure. And as much as Ford loved to insist otherwise, Stan had the decorum to not rub it in their faces. Because it made sense, didn't it? They were all near inseparable after Weirdmageddon. He and Ford loved Mabel and Dipper so much. They talked for hours every day. In fact, there wasn't a day that went by where they didn't communicate in some form. They sent each other good morning and good night messages. All he and Ford seemed to talk about outside of their adventures were their niblings and when they could finally welcome them aboard permanently. They're each other's favorite people. Nobody understood their bond but them. Nobody loved each other like they did. And for that reason, perhaps, it was understandable for the twins’ parents to be a bit wary.
But before he could assuage their fears with the old, patented Stanley Pines charm, they dropped the bomb on him. The idea that Mabel and Dipper could be… Taken advantage of. Taken advantage of by people they thought they could trust.
In that moment, an anger so hot and brilliant burnt inside Stanley that he was almost afraid it’s consume him from the inside-out and take everything around him down with it. How dare they? How dare they even think he or his brother would ever, ever do something to hurt the twins? After everything they've been through, everything they've sacrificed. Didn't they understand how much he loved them, how much they loved him back, how they–
Stan's anger fizzled out as the puzzle pieces clicked together in his head.
When Mabel and Dipper would first visit the Stan O’ War, they all made the collective decision to just sleep in the one bed they had on the tiny ship. It made sense, and it was normal. Nothing wrong with the older Pines twins sleeping in the same bed with their young niece and nephew. It just made sense. It was practical. What didn't make sense was that when he and Ford returned to Gravity Falls and the twins traveled down there for school vacation, they decided to continue sleeping in the same bed that Soos helped move up there, all piled together in the attic. He and Ford could have slept anywhere else. Even if Melody, Soos, and Abuelita were taking up the rooms, they could have sleepovers in the basement or in the den. But they made the purposeful decision to sleep togeth- in the same bed. Upstairs. Alone.
It was weird. It was weird that, at some point, he and Ford decided to help sabotage any relationships Mabel had that Dipper deemed weren't good for her. What was weird was Mabel and Dipper seeming to forgo looking for any romantic partners after a while. It was weird that Mabel hung off all their arms, almost like a girlfriend. What was weird was how, sometime, during playwrights with Dipper, Stan's stomach would do a weird little flip when the boy was below him or managed to pin him down.
It had to be his fault. Who else could be blamed but Stanley? There were… There were words for people like him, for the shit he was pulling. He was so fucked up. He'd manipulated the kids and convinced Ford that it was all normal. Just like always, he was taking advantage of the people he loved for his own sick gain and didn't even have the awareness to realize it without a wake up call from the twins’ parents. God, he made himself sick. He ran from the conversation, tail between his legs, assuring them that he'd talk about it with them.
And to his credit, he did. He constantly repeated that if the twins wanted to back out, neither of their grunkles would take it personally. Whenever he asked about either of their potential romantic prospects, Mabel and Dipper just looked at him like he had two heads! Apparently it had gotten so bad they felt the need to sic Ford on him. Stan didn't tell his brother the truth, just asked if he felt like they were doing the right thing. Stanford only replied with a confused smile and the assurance that they were.
During their next shared stay in The Mystery Shack, Stan tried to keep his mind off of everything, but Mabel couldn't stop going on about how excited she was for a “sleepover” with her grunkles.
Stan didn't go to sleep with them that night. He kept saying he would, but excused it as being too lazy to get out of his recliner. He slept awful, but it was worth it to know he wasn't taking advantage of his family. The next night, though, was harder. At one point, Dipper had tried (tried being the key word) to wrestle him out of his chair and it shouldn't have made him as flustered as it did. Mabel kept begging and pleading, and it damn near broke his heart.
But what got him was Ford practically purring him in his ear, voice low and seductive and conjuring all sorts of fantasies to mind.
“Come to bed with us, Stanley.”
God forgive him, he had never risen to his feet so fast.
Thankfully, Stan had enough self restraint to not try anything funny. He barely got any sleep And he barely slept any night he was coaxed into bed by his family, plagued by fantasies of them all tied up in knots together. That was the only explanation as to why Stan had, entirely, totally completely by accident, kissed his brother in greeting not too long into their stay. Stan's only saving grace was that they were entirely alone when it happened. He froze up the moment he realized it was happening, and his perverted mind must have been playing tricks on him when he felt Ford lean in hungrily, kissing back–
Stan pushed him away. Ford tried to say something but Stan couldn't hear over his panic. He was already turning to scramble away when Ford nearly fully-body tackled him. Stan risked a glance backwards when he heard his brother land hard on the floor, only for Ford to immediately recover and rise to give chase. But Stan was already down the hall, racing down the stairs, heading for the front door. He heard Ford's voice call for their niblings, but he's already out the door. Already out the door, into his car, and screaming out into the dirt road leading into town.
He needed to get as far away from his family as possible. He needed to protect them from himself.
Stan's car ended up breaking down in front of Greasy's and he was trying not to break down in the bathroom. It's been so long since he's felt this fucked up. Having a cute little crush on his twin as a stupid kid or teen was one thing. This was so much worse. He was a grown ass man, feeling this shit for Ford and having the wrong kind of love for his nephew and niece.
It was funny, in a sick, sad way, that what he wanted most was the comfort of his family now. God, what was wrong with him? He ruined everything. He was a danger to them. What was he thinking?! KISSING his brother? Like it was normal, natural, like it felt right. (Never mind that it felt like Ford was kissing back, but no, he couldn't have, it was a trick he was playing on himself- or, oh God, even worse, he made Ford feel like he had to.) Stan couldn't help himself, could he? All these thoughts he'd had of Ford, of Mabel, of Dipper. Reading too deep into their actions and what they said. He didn't have enough willpower to fight off his perverse thoughts. He was dangerous. He was dangerous and he needed to stay away.
It'd be better for everyone if he were gone for good. If he just drove off a ditch and-
It was only then that Stan was aware of his phone's incessant vibrating. Stupid thing. He'd only gotten it to keep frequent contact with his family. Fishing it out, Stan was hit with another wave of guilt. Countless missed calls and texts from the people he loved most. He really should have just broken or tossed the damn thing, but seeing the notifications and messages made him hold the phone like a precious treasure.
Pumpkin (6 Missed Calls): GRUNKLE STAN WHERE ARE YOU??? you cant just run off like that!! what if s….
Dippy (5 Missed Calls): Stan, are you okay?? You're really freaking us out, we're worried about you. Call m…
Sixer (12 Missed Calls): Stanley, please answer. I'm far from upset. Just tell us where you are and we'll…
Staring at his lockscreen, he let the text and voice-mail notifications stream down his screen. He even got a text from Sops and Wendy, letting him know that they and his family were more than concerned. He should have just blocked their numbers and tried to hitch his way down to Mexico or the nearest cliff. Here he was again, screwing shit up again and running away from his problems.
He opened his phone and found himself scrolling through his saved photos. Photos of Mabel, dancing and smiling and dressed up in silly outfits. Of Dipper winning karaoke competitions and smiling shyly at the camera. Of Ford fighting sea monsters or too wrapped up in his nerdy research to notice the camera was on him. Pictures of the twins with prizes their Grunkles had won for them. One with Ford holding the younger twins’ hands. And then there were the more intimate ones – his family laying in bed, cuddled up together. So many cheek and forehead kisses. One of them all dining outside at some restaurant, arms around one another as the setting sun turns the skies into pastel oranges and pinks.
It tore him apart. So many memories that were so wonderful, where he felt so much love and so loved, were now ruined. All because of him.
Just as Stan started searching for a car to hot wire, Soos’ truck came swerving into the parking lot of Greasy's Diner. In the back of Stan's mind, he wondered if Ford really did have a tracker on him. It was almost too sudden for Stanley to react. Mabel, Dipper, and Ford all pile out of the truck and rush for him.
Mabel reached Stan first, colliding with him in a hug so powerful he was nearly knocked over. Then, Dipper, with nearly just as much strength. Both seemed to almost melt into him, both arms wrapped tight around his back. Finally, Ford. Coming up from behind both the younger twins as he embraced Stanley, snuggling them in between him and his brother. Even Soos comes in for a hug on the opposite side.
Ford shielded Stan from any onlookers. He insisted that he'll explain when they get home. Mabel and Dipper took him by either arm and he couldn't find it in him to resist them as they climbed into the car with him… Or when they cuddled up on either side of him on the drive back to the Shack. Holding his hand, resting their head on his shoulder… Asking what happened, why he left if he was okay, if it was something they did.
Ford watched them through the rear view mirror the entire time.
Stan felt like his life was over, even as they all led him back inside The Shack. Soos acted like a mother hen over him, but Stan couldn't bear it. He doesn't deserve to be worried about. Ford had to assure Soos that they'll take care of Stan and make sure he's okay. As Mabel and Dipper lead Stan upstairs to the bedroom, he heard Ford tell Soos that his memory was still a bit faulty. If he acted off or said things that seem strange, it's just a product of that. It made him burn with shame. Did Ford really believe that?
His niblings guided him to the bed - their bed in their bedroom – he couldn't stop himself from apologizing, from saying how sorry he was. But they didn't seem to think he'd done anything wrong, shushing him and trying to cuddle him. It only got worse when he realized Ford was watching in the doorway and Stan somehow felt even sicker. It all came pouring out of his mouth, how he screwed it all up again, he was sick, a sick bastard who–
Ford shut him up with a kiss. The younger set of twins immediately hyped him up. Mabel squealed with excitement over how cute they were.
“Finally!” Dipper's grin nearly splits his face.
Stan pushed Ford away (no matter how much he wanted to reciprocate), sputtering out something unintelligent before his lips were then claimed by Dipper. Stan's eyes were as wide as saucers. His hands found their way to the younger man's shoulders and linger for longer than they should before pushing him back, too. And then finally, Mabel pulled him in for a kiss and Stan whined.
He's tired of feeling guilty, he's tired of feeling like a monster, he's tired of fighting back, it's all so hard. It's too much, he couldn't anymore-
And then Ford leaned back in, right in Stan's ear. “Just give in to us, Stanley.”
And he did. He nearly started crying when he embraced Mabel, kissing her back. The other two were instantly on him. Smothering him with kisses, on his face, his neck, his shoulders. Mabel pulled back to mouth at his chest. Stan was so overwhelmed and they're all on top of him, everywhere at once, hungry and almost devouring him. He hated how he felt so loved, he hated that it felt so wrong, and he hated how it felt so right. But what he hated most is how much he loved it.
He was practically shaking in the warm embrace of his family. His breath hitched as he felt all six fingers of Ford's hands roam over his stomach. Old insecurities rose up from the back of his mind, making him flinch and trying to pull away, but this only seemed to embolden Ford as he groped and squeezed.
Dipper's hand found the side of Stan's face, turning the older man's attention to him. There was something hungry in his eyes, something that sent a wave of warmth rolling through Stan's gut, before Dipper seals his mouth over Stan's and sticks a tongue into his mouth, running over his dentures.
Mabel broke them apart with a pout. “Dipper! You can't just hog Grunkle Stan all to yourself!”
“I'm not,” Dipper argued. “I've wanted to kiss him just as long as you!”
Stan's head was spinning. He tried to focus on thinking straight and getting air into his lungs, but the way Ford was spreading his legs and nipping at his neck was making it harder than it ought to be.
Mabel suddenly grabbed at Stan's jaw with both hands, turning him to face her. Her face was filled with an unusual seriousness for a moment, staring straight into him, before she's suddenly all bright and beaming, smiling giddily. “My turn!”
She tasted like a kaleidoscope of fruity chapstick flavors – cherries and watermelons and apple pie. He half-expected it to be forceful and deep, but it was more akin to a gentle caress to his lips. Their noses booped together just so and Stan's breath hitched as he began to cry, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to curl in on himself.
“Grunkle Stan, no, no, hey, don't cry,” Mabel's voice was soft, her hands grasping either side of his face. “You're okay, everything's okay now.”
Stan couldn't reply. His throat closed up and he held back sobs. Ford pressed bruising kisses to his neck, hands running up and down Stanley's thighs. He didn't dare look, even when another hand found its way into his hair, carding and brushing through his graying locks, almost petting him. Another pair of lips pressed against one side of his cheek.
Mabel pleaded with him. “Grunkle Stan, c'mon, look at me.”
As if he could ever deny her anything. When Stan opened his eyes, the look in Mabel's face was a punch to the gut. So much concern, so much love, so much compassion. All for him. All for someone as sick as him. He'd corrupted them. There was no other explanation in his mind.
Hands still on either of his cheeks, Mabel wiped away Stan's tears with her thumbs before leaning in to press kisses at the tear marks.
“We're doing this because we love you,” Mabel said. “You know that, right?”
He didn't deserve it. Another whine forced its way out of Stan. The word ‘stop’ sits at the tip of his tongue, but he was too weak to say it, too weak to fight back now. He didn't want/ it to stop.
Mabel kissed him again, still just as soft and sweet but this time it sears into him. She clutched the fabric of his shirt to pull him impossibly closer. Stan jolts when Ford's large hands grasped at his clothed erection and squeezed. He gasped, and Mabel took the opportunity to slip her tongue inside, deepening the kiss.
Mabel tasted so sweet on his tongue and she's everywhere, and so was Dipper and Ford, and it's too much. It's too much all at once. Hands on his face, running through his hair, balling up the fabric of his shirt, palming at his erection. Stan trembled, barely able to think. Blood pounding in his ears, the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the way his heart beat a thousand miles a minute. A haze fell over his mind, clouding his judgment.
“Alright, alright, time's up,” Dipper's hands found their way back to Stanley's jaw. “And you say I'm hogging him.”
“Boo!” But there's no genuine anger in Mabel's voice, and her bright smile remained.
Stan tried to use the opportunity to breathe, to get some air back into his lungs and get his brain oxygenated enough to think straight again, but Dipper's lips were already back on his. They haven't even done anything yet, and he already feels fucked out. Stan, weakly, allowed his mouth to fall open to allow his nephew inside. His hands found their way to Dipper's sides, holding him and squeezing gently. He's solid around the middle, but not nearly as wide as Stan or Ford. Perfect to hold.
Mabel, noticing Ford's hands clutching at Stan's stomach, made the executive decision to pull up Stan's shirt.
“I don't why you feel like you have to hide your tummy, it's so cute!” She beamed, leaning over to pepper kisses across her grunkle's stomach.
Stanley whined into Dipper's mouth and bucked against Ford's hand, still stroking him through his pants.
“That's it, Stanley,” Ford praises. “Such a good boy for us.”
God, he was gonna start crying again if they kept this up.
Ford let go of Stan's cock and took a seat behind Mabel, letting her slip downward onto his lap. Ford chuckled and took the opportunity to brush her hair aside and nip at her neck.
“Dibs on sucking Grunkle Stan's dick!”
Stan swore his heart stopped for a moment. There was too much blood rising up to his cheeks and ears and chest and all the way down to his crotch. A bit of clarity rose up from the foggy, lustful haze of his mind and he raised a shaky hand to push her away – from this, from him – but Dipper's hand gently curled around his wrist, placing a large hand against the younger man's stomach.
Stan turned to look into his nephew's eyes, finding him looking back through lidded eyes.
“Grunkle Stan,” he all but whined. “Need you so bad. Need you really, really bad.”
The flush on Stan's face stretched all the way down to his chest at Dipper's words. Dipper needed him. Something about that word flips a switch in Stan’s brain. His tongue was heavy in his cotton dry mouth. His eyes had fallen to half-mast. His cock twitched (and Mabel was pulling down his pants, pulling down his boxers-), and he found himself leaning closer to his nephew.
“Please,” Dipper begged.
Biting his lip, Stan slowly began to nod. His nephew needed him and he couldn't just leave him wanting.
“Wh- where d’ya need me, kid? Huh?”
Guiding Stan's hand down, Dipper cupped it against his hard, clothed cock. He whined again. “Here.”
Stan felt the heat beneath Dipper's boxers, and he slowly squeezed. A soft groan escaped the older man when Dipper bucks into his hand. The younger man’s hands balled into fists at his sides, twisting into the fabric of his sleep shorts. God, he was too cute for his own good.
A sharp whine escaped Stan as Mabel presses a kiss to the head of Stan's cock. Stan throbbed, his hips stuttering. A bead of precum pooled at his cockhead. He's so sensitive, he hadn't been touched by anyone in so long. And the fact that Mabel was the one mouthing at his cock...
“Aw, Grunkle Stan, you're already leaking,” She teased. “I guess I'm just that good.”
“I'm jealous,” Ford hummed against Mabel's neck, making her giggle.
Stan's eyes suddenly widened, a gasp escaping him as he watched Ford's fingers disappear under Mabel's skirt. Warm, heady lust like magma in his veins immediately chilled to ice, his entire body locking up in shock. He was– Ford was going to–! No, no, no, what the fuck was Stan doing? it's just like their parents said, he was taking advantage of them! God, no, no, he was going to be sick, this shouldn’t be happening. This couldn't be happening! Ford wouldn't– no, he'd never, not in his right mind, no. This– this was all his fault, wasn't it? Fucking grooming the twins, making Ford think it's normal! God, he always did this, always hurt everyone he loved. He was such a fucked up freak, disgusting, he should've died on the streets, he should be dead, his family would be better off without him…
“Hey, Stan, stay with me here.” Dipper's fingers laced around Stan's jaw, turning him to face his nephew again. Dipper made his face into a pout, the cadence of his voice taking on a needy, coy tone. “Need you, remember?”
Dipper rolled his hips invitingly, and Stan melted. Mind falling back into a foggy haze, he grabbed at Dipper's hips with shaky hands. A whine ripped from his throat, feeling Mabel kiss and lick at his cock. He pulled Dipper's hips closer, positioning him so that he was facing his great nephew's clothed bulge.
“Ya need me, h- huh?” Stan licked his lips and leaned closer. “Need me right here?”
“Please!” Dipper begged.
The younger man's fingers carded through and gripped at Stan's hair. A gasp was almost punched out of Stan, and then, his body locked up with pleasure. His whole body shook as Mabel's warm, wet mouth wrapped around his cock. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a breathy sigh. He trembled, keeping himself from bucking into Mabel's mouth but God, she felt so fucking good, so fucking warm, such a good girl, such a good girl for him.
Stanley let out another whine, burying his face against the front of Dipper's pants and nuzzling at his bulge. God, Dipper's so hard. He felt so big, too. And Stan was feeling so, so good right now. Better than he had in such a long time. And Stan wanted him. Stan wanted all of them. He loved them – so much, too much. He wanted to make his nephew, his neice, his brother, all of them feel so fucking good. And fuck, fuckfuckfuck, he couldn't stop himself.
Before he could even think, his hands are fumbling to pull down Dipper's shorts, then boxers, and Dipper's hissing when cool air hits his hard dick. And Stan was all over him, sloppily sucking and licking at his cock, taking him in his mouth and deepthroating him, until Stan's nose was brushing against Dipper's pubic hair.
“Whoa, Grunkle Stan,” Mabel exclaimed, pulling off her Grunkle's cock. “Do you not have a gag reflex?”
Stan hummed in response. He dared a glance up at his nephew. Dipper's entire body was locked up in pleasure, eyebrows scrunched and mouth stuck in the shape of an O. He wondered if Dipper had any experience before this. A feeling of sickening revulsion overcame him at the thought that Dipper's first time would be with him. It's quickly replaced by a wave of arousal at the thought that Dipper's first time would be with him.
His cock twitched in Mabel's hold again. She captured his attention once more as she let out a cry of pleasure. Stan’s eyes widened as he noticed that Ford had slipped inside of their niece. She was so wet she hadn't needed any preparation, just slipping his cock inside her and thrusting up into her pussy. With his free hand, Ford rubbed and pinched at her clit and it looked like it took everything in Mabel not to scream. Stan and his brother locked eyes and the look of pure satisfaction, of lust, of love, it's too much for Stan. He nearly came just from that.
He screwed his eyes shut, putting all of his focus into sucking and twisting his tongue around Dipper's dick. He felt the boy twisting a hand into his hair. He heard how Mabel moaned and whined on her great uncle’s cock until she's enveloping Stan back into her warm, wet mouth and sending spasms of pleasure with every muffled moan. He heard how Ford praised their niece, calling her their good. Because she was. Their good, good girl. Both of them were so good. Making them feel so good, so loved. God, he loved them so much. A whine bubbled up from Stan's throat, suddenly gripping at Dipper's backside, trying to pull him impossibly closer. He needed Dipper to cum down his throat.
Mabel reached her peak first. Her entire body locked up with pleasure and whining around Stan's dick and making him buck his hips, but what sent him hurtling over the edge was Dipper spilling into his mouth with a cry. Stan savored the taste of him on his tongue. His entire body arched, tight as a bow string as he shook through his orgasm, before sinking deeply back onto the mattress.
Ford pulled out of their niece and shuffled over to Stan, furiously pumping at his dick and before Stan even realized what was happening, Ford was cumming all over his face.
Stan panted heavily, too tired and wrecked to even wipe his face. He let his eyes fall closed. Thankfully, not long after, there was someone wiping something cold and damp against his messy, sweaty face. There was a soothing hand running through his hair. A tall, lithe body slotted itself against his side, wrapping around him. A smaller body nestled against his front and buried her face into his chest. On his other side was a familiar body curling an arm around his waist. Their stubble brushed against one another as he nuzzled Stan's face. He was practically assaulted by praise just as much as he was affection.
“We love you so much.”
“We've wanted you for so long.”
“No one could make us feel as good as you do.”
Panic and guilt threatened to break the surface of his mind, but that could come later. For now, Stan let himself sink deep into the realm of dreams, feeling secure in that he was with the three people he loved most in the world, feeling more loved than he'd had in a long, long time.
prompt from day 14, hats and sweaters week: standip
summary: (NSFT) established relationship. Stan and Dipper try a roleplay as their respective twins while they're away, but a little rough.
References to possible fordbel, pinesot4 yearning. Clothed sex, calling each other their respective twins names. Dipper's an older teen, like 17.
After an early awkward phase in their relationship, Stan and Dipper were up to no good tonight as their respective twins had left half an hour prior. The two were scavenging their sibling's clothes from their dresser drawers, then Dipper walked into Ford's room seeing Stan wearing a red sweater and black tights. Time at sea had put more muscle in those legs, his frame a bit of a tight fit around the fabric.
He himself wore one of his sister's pink to orange ombre sweaters, a matching orange skirt, pink hairband and even down to the panties. Dipper could feel Stan's gaze from his place on the couch.
Apparently his uncle had enough, "Come here, pretty boy," was all he needed to shuffle up to Stan's legs.
"I'd like to try something weird, when they're gone." Stan shivered at the memory of Dipper asking him to do this. "I want us to dress up as them and screw in their clothes."
"So," His gruff voice spoke, "Did you want to... pretend to be them too? Or is this some sort of clothing revenge thing I'm not in on?"
"Would that be too weird? I don't want to push it if-"
"Nah, I think that'd be kind of fun, actually." Stan smiled at him, "Why don't we pretend she's in trouble for messing with his science stuff?"
"Sure! Yeah! And you can be uh, rough. I pr-prepped already." Shyly toying the hem of his skirt, his nephew asked, "How should we start?"
Stan cleared his throat, in a perfect rendition of Ford's voice he said, "We'll proceed with you getting on your knees, since you've been a naughty girl."
Dipper squeaked out an, "Okay," and got on the ground to sit on his ankles.
Stan continued, "Messing with chemicals in my laboratory is not allowed without my presence. Now, for your punishment." Stan slid down the pants to his ankles, noticing the blazing blush on his nephew's cheeks, "You're going to choke on this until I've decided you learned your lesson." Grabbing a hold of the shaft, he started to stroke himself to hardness.
"Y-yes, sir." He sounded more like her that time, Dipper watched with anticipation as saliva started to fill his mouth. His own hard on pressed firmly against his sister's panties and skirt, tempted to free it now but he'll wait for a better moment. The soft cock in front of him is rubbed to hardness, Stan was definitely a shower but didn't lack in width in the slightest.
Stan lets go, and replied, "Come here, my dear." His nephew's hesitant lips press into the head of his cock, and he leaned to grip the hair at the base of Dipper's skull. Heat enveloped the tip, rubbing against soft tongue as it dragged against his lips, only getting halfway. Stan groaned, pulling his head backwards until the tip sat against his flesh, then he quickly forced his mouth back down. A surprised noise came from Dipper's throat, so he remarked, "I did say choke, don't think I'm going easy on you."
Lidded eyes stare up at him sweetly, nose flaring from deep breaths. Dipper nodded, giving him the green light to fuck his face silly. So Stan does, with fingers tight in his nephew's hair he dragged his head up and down at a moderate pace. He groaned, "Oh, yes... your mouth, s-so uh, exquisite around my length," hearing soft whimpers and chokes and feeling the slight vibrations, glad that him trying to improvise didn't make him laugh. No, instead he was taking the treatment with stride, humming around his cock as Stan increased the pace.
All too soon, Dipper tapped at his thigh and Stan lets go of his head. Panting as he pulled off with a string of saliva still connected, Dipper wiped it away with a hand before giving him the sweetest doe eyes. He spoke in a perfect Mabel impression, desperate and pleading, "Can I please touch myself, G-Great Uncle Ford?"
Widening his eyes, his cock twitched at the accuracy and that names were on the table. "Not yet, Mabel. As soon as your punishment is over, I'll make you feel good."
A whine comes from his throat, "But I've been taking it so well!"
Stan gripped the back of his hair again, "Like I said, this is a punishment, and I will decide when you've had enough." That sweet, warm mouth took him in again without resistance, and Stan took advantage of it. The pace is hard and fast, with each thrust a bit more drool slid down his shaft as his nephew whimpered, occasionally choking at an extra deep pump of his cock.
Lost within the heavy use of his mouth, Dipper's thoughts are mostly on Stan. Mostly. He tried to ignore whether or not this was something the other two would do at all, and if they did, was it accurate? Maybe it was weird, but he could see Mabel topping Ford to a degree, she has that energy. As so long as Ford still felt like he was in control-
He'd felt Stan's cock twitch in his mouth a few times over the last minute, choking and coughing hard as Dipper's mouth is ripped off his shaft.
"You've taken your punishment, now get on the couch," He commanded, standing up to watch his nephew crawl up, zoning in on the panties and bulge underneath the fabric of his skirt. Stan took a hand and traced the outside of his hole before he slid it forward, palming at his sack with his rough hand. Dipper moaned pleasantly, rutting back against it.
With quick fingers, Stan reached under his skirt to pull off his panties, a small wet spot of precum near the top band. He threw them to the side, and swiftly grabbed lube from his pocket to coat his fingers and cock. Now his fingers breach that tight hole, promised to be ready for him as Dipper groaned at the intrusion. Pumping his fingers into him, Stan could tell he wasn't lying about prepping.
Moaning in a tone eerily similar to how Mabel would sound, Dipper looked over his shoulder at him with soft, pleading eyes. "Grunkle Ford, you said you'd make me feel good. I need more than fingers," He whined, and Stan removed his fingers.
"I know exactly what you need, my dear," Reaching down to guide the tip of his dick to press it against his hole, it twitched and puckered, sinking in easily. "Oh yea- yes, I fit so well inside you." His own cock twitched in response against his soft walls, already being worked up so much he knew he wouldn't last long. So he compensated by leaning forward over Dipper to reach a hand underneath and up his skirt, grabbing his dick and slowly stroking.
Mewling loudly at his touch, Dipper arched his back, pressing more of his thick rod inside of him and almost to the base. Stan started rolling his hips slowly, stating in a sexy tone, "Is that right, sweetheart? Does this please your desires to be used in such an- mmh, intimate way?"
"Yes, aaah, harder!" Dipper begged, feeling the tight grip on his hip while his hole is pounded faster, hitting deeper and over his prostate repeatedly. He's lost in bliss as Stan increased the pumping of his hand on his own cock, twitching in his uncle's fist. He could feel the elder's weight forcing him down slightly with each thrust, captivated by the feeling of Stan's stomach resting on his back.
Feeling close so fast already, Dipper pleaded, "Please cum in me, Great Uncle Ford! I'm so close!"
"I sh-shouldn't, we're not wearing protection-"
"I'm on the pill, I want it, please," He moaned, tightening around Stan and thrusting back to hit his prostate. Feeling a rough hand in his hair and yank his head backward, Dipper whimpered and felt panting in his ear.
"Be a good girl and cum for me first, Mabel."
He was done for, Dipper practically screamed as he came, cum covering Stan's slowing hand on his cock and dripping onto his sister's skirt. A few seconds later, he felt a hot load pump deep inside with Stan groaning along with him in the prolonged state. Ever so slowly does his great uncle finally come to a stop, panting and leaning up off of him with a grunt from both parties.
"That felt incredible," Dipper sighed, light and lilted in tone and back to his own voice.
Coughing to clear his voice and sound like himself again, Stan felt him twitch and gasp before saying, "Yeah, it was. Felt fantastic."
A moment passed of neither of them moving, simply enjoying the afterglow. Thank goodness they didn't have to clean up their mess for a while, days before they could return-
Wiggling his hips, Dipper pumped himself slightly on Stan's dick, asking, "Do you think they'd go twice?"
Scoffing, Stan grabbed both of his hips and bottomed out, eliciting a small yelp out of his nephew, "Oh, I know they would."
And so the month of Pinesot4pril comes to an end; let's finish it off with a horny bang!
APRIL 27TH- TEASING
APRIL 28TH - UNDERWEAR
APRIL 29TH- HANDS
APRIL 30TH- ORGY
On a real note, I've been so amazed with the work people have put out for this event!! I really never expected this much of a turn out, and I've had so much fun rolling around in all the new interest in Pinesot4 stuff ;w;
Ford's little spring lamb is so cute. All white-fleeced and rosy-cheeked. A pink bow and a small bell hanging from his neck. His hooves are but useless black mittens on Ford's knees, and his face is so bashful and sweet. It's so easy to lift his lamb up onto his lap, so close to the bulge in his pants.
Oh, his poor little love, so shy! He can hardly look at Ford's bulge for even a second before his face goes red as a tomato. He quickly buries himself in his arms, his face covered by a sheet of white, save for the little patch of brown hair that sprouts from under his hood. So adorable.
Ford slowly moves his hand from his lamb's shoulder to his chest, pinching the costume’s zipper between two fingers. He steadily drags the zipper down, parting the sea of white and revealing his lamb's soft, milky flesh. The poor little thing whimpers when he's all the way unzipped, and Ford's hand brushes against his crotch.
And then, slowly, teasingly, Ford reaches inwards, finger brushing against his lamb's chest and his perky little buds. He hears the hitch of his lamb's breath at the sudden contact and feels the goosebumps prickle over his flesh. He drags his hand downward and allows himself to roam over and grope at his lamb's body greedily. He just can't help himself. He's too precious to resist. He sinks down even further, reaching his prize past his lamb's soft, white underbelly.
Stan should have known something was wrong the moment he woke up and felt no pain. He was no stranger to it, after all. Body aches were a constant companion of his, so constant that he'd long been able to compartmentalize them and push them to the back of his mind, where they simmered just beneath the surface in constant, dull pangs. At least, usually. Some days were better, some days were worse. But, laying like this, on his back and with no support, the ache was constant and almost impossible to ignore. Most nights, Stan either slammed back a mix of pain and sleeping meds or contorted himself into a position that was as close to comfortable as he could get.
But, there was no pain. No murmuring agony that pulled Stan from under the covers in hope that the pain of being upright would be less than the one in his spine. Blinking away the tiredness from his eyes, Stan looked around.
It was dark and dim, but when was it not? Stan spent thirty years down here almost every night. He knew Ford's laboratory like the back of his hand. Even after all these years, it was left untouched, save for whatever experiments his twin performed whenever they returned to Oregon. The only true light source was a glowing teal from behind him, but it was enough for him to see. Well, barely. His glasses were missing and these damn cataracts hardly helped.
He turned his head to his left, almost jumping when he spotted another person lying on a table. A woman. She was completely naked. She appeared to be sleeping. A long, blob of brown hair hung off the side of the table.
Mabel?
Stan's breath hitched. His immediate instinct was to leap off the table and scoop Mabel into his arms. But, he couldn't. He was held back, something clasped firm around his wrists and ankles. His pulse sped up, breath stuttering and eyes darting around in a panic. Memories flashed in front of his vision, of being tied up and held down and of ropes and manacles and wire tight around him.
His head swiveled in a panic, turning to his right. A near identical body lay beside him. Dipper. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
Stan struggled against his binds impossibly. The table shook underneath him. He had to get out of here, he had to get them out of here and get them to safety.
“Kids!” He barked. “Mabel, Dipper, wake up! Now!”
Neither of them stirred.
“Kids!”
He strained his vision, whipping his head from side-to-side. Were their chests rising and falling? Were they still alive? God, please, please just let them be okay.
“Stanley?!”
Ford. Oh, thank God, Ford was here, he'd let them free–
But, then again, who'd put them down here in the first place?
“Ford,” he called out. “Let us outta here!”
A blobby figure was immediately by his side, looking over him. Stan squinted, his brother's blurry face coming into view.
“You're not supposed to be awake yet,” Ford's voice was a breathless murmur.
Stan struggled against his binds. “What the hell is this?!”
“Are you in any pain? The solution I gave you should have negated any, but perhaps the dosage was off? It must've been off on the sleep serum. I should have known not to give you the same dosage as the twins.”
“What.”
“No matter, I'll put you back under shortly.”
“No, no! Don't!” Stan searched his mind for a way out, something to stall him. “I wanna- wanna see you.”
Ford stilled over him for a moment, before walking away and hurriedly returning. His glasses were put over his face, resting on the bridge of his nose.
And there Ford was, in all his glory. He looked like shit.
Deep, deep bags bung below his bloodshot eyes. His gray curls were wild and unruly. He looked even more pale than usual. A memory flashed into his mind, of the unkempt and manic version of his brother he'd encountered just before he lost him to the portal. Guilt stung at Stan, mentally kicking himself for not checking on Ford more often.
Summer hadn't started well. First, Ford and Stan were both crushed when Dipper and Mabel gave them the bad news – that their parents had forbidden them from studying under their Great Uncle Ford while sailing abroad with them and insisted that they attend actual universities for a more traditional college experience. All four of them were heartbroken, but Stan was understanding. The kids still had a good relationship with both their parents and neither wanted to do anything to raise tensions any higher than they already were. He knew the feeling well. Just like he and Ford were for the longest time, they were slaves to their parents' whims. It seemed Ford had taken the news far worse than he had.
Secondly, and more importantly, they'd discovered that the statue of Bill was missing. The entire Shack was in a panic, bracing for the worst and waiting for the second coming of the Oddpocalypse. Hours were spent, waiting with bated breath, all of them either pacing or preparing or searching. Hours passed. Then, days. Weeks. And nothing came of it.
Stan and the twins allowed themselves to let their guards down. If something was going to happen, it already would have. Ford had said before that some teens thought worshipping Bill was cool in some sort of ironic way. Some shithead teenager probably made off with the thing as a dare or prank, probably had the triangular fucker on their wall or up a tree or in an outhouse somewhere. Hopefully. They all made attempts to breathe easier. If something did happen, they'd all make it through it together, like they always had. It reassured them. Everyone, except for Ford.
Ford had holed himself up in the basement doing God knows what. They made attempts to drag him outside or at least into the house proper, but those moments were few and far between. They all made sure to check in on him and bring him down meals, but his twin seemed to find comfort in his solitude. It was understandable. At least, that's what Stan assumed. Ford had the most experience with the guy. He brought up bad memories for all of them. Stan figured he was probably trying to find or make some way to defeat him in case Bill did end up reappearing. He assumed that the worst possible outcome of all of this was a lack of sleep and not making the most out of their time with their niblings. He certainly didn't expect whatever this was.
Vision now clear, or as clear as it was gonna get, Stan could see the weary, affectionate smile that spread over his twin's face. A six-fingered hand reached down, cupping his face gently. Ford seemed calm. Calmer, at least. Maybe he could snap him out of this. They could talk this out.
“Better?” Ford asked.
“Hey, listen. I get you're scared right now. But, whatever this is, some kinda freaky experiment, you don't need to do it.”
Ford did not seem to like that answer. He turned about, coat flourishing in the air, as he walked toward his desk behind Stan. There were some shuffling noises, the sound of metal being moved around. The younger twin craned his neck in an attempt to see.
“C'mon, Sixer, if you're trying to help us, you could at least let us know before ya do it!”
“You wouldn't understand.”
“Try me.”
A pause. Then, a heavy sigh. Ford walked back over and Stan spotted a syringe in one hand.
“Hey, hey, hey, no, no!” Stan exclaimed, eyes going wide. “Let's talk about this.”
“I'm sorry, Stanley, but there's nothing to discuss. I've made up my mind. This is for the best.”
“Shit, Ford, you've already got us trapped here. Could you at least tell me what's gonna happen?”
Ford's lips pulled into a grimace, looking him over with something unreadable in his eyes. The elder twin looked between the syringe and prone form of his brother. Then, he seemed to deflate. He sighed, body sagging and looking so much more tired.
“I have to protect you,” he muttered.
“We can protect each other,” Stan assured.
“No,” Ford snapped, then wilted. “Not just protect you. I have to… I have to keep you. It's not just Bill. The idea of him making his return is terrifying, but there's more to it. Bill, the twins’ parents, potential suitors or suitresses,” Ford slowly shook his head, looking away. “I'm greedy, Stanley. I'm greedy and selfish. I want the three of you all to myself.”
A piece of Stan's heart snapped. “You think we don't want ya back, Sixer?”
“I can't take the risk. There can be no room for doubt. And it's not just you. I cannot allow any of you to be taken from me ever again.”
“Hey, we always come back to each other, don't we?”
“And look how long that took,” Ford turned back, a wild look in his eyes. “Never again. I can't risk it ever again.”
“So what?” Stan's eyes settled back on the needle. “Ya gonna–” A nervous laugh escaped him at the absurdity of the idea. “Y’gonna kill us or something? Some Fatal Attraction shit?”
“No… Well,” Ford slowly began to smile, a strange look in his eye. “You'll all live on through me.”
Stan's face dropped. His heart sank to his feet. His fearful expression must have been so obvious that it must have broken through to Ford in some way.
“I'll protect you,” Ford assured him. “All of you. I'll protect you, love you, cherish you, keep all of you with me,” he smiled even wider, placing a hand over his stomach. “Inside me. Forever.”
All that Stan could get out is a single, “Huh?”
“It's rather simple, Stanley. If I devour you, I'll be able to keep you inside of me. You all will live on through me and nothing will ever hurt you or take you away from me ever again. It's perfect.”
So, no, apparently, this wasn't some Fatal Attraction shit. This was some Silence of The Lambs shit.
“YOU'RE GONNA COOK US AND EAT US?”
Ford rolled his eyes with a playful smile, waving him off. “Of course not. Any cannibal worth their salt knows that the most intimate and loving means of eating another person is to eat them raw. Cooking the flesh not only takes away the natural flavors of an individual but also feels completely impersonal. This is special. You are all special. I'd never do that to you."
“Oh, so that makes it okay, then?”
Ford frowned. “I don't expect you to understand.”
“Because this is crazy!”
“Stanley, you– I, we–” He growled, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “You are my soulmates. All of you. Quite literally fated to be brought together by prophecy before any of us were even born. I've spent decades without you, decades waiting for them. I can't spend another second without you,” Ford's voice became strained, eyes wet and teary. “I can't risk anyone taking you from me again. I just can't stand the thought of having to share you with anyone anymore. I need you all to myself. I can't bear it anymore. I need your blood in my mouth. I need your flesh in between my teeth.”
“Ford, please,” Stan begged, heartstrings nearly wrenched out at the sight of his brother like this. “Think about this.”
With a heavy, shuddering sigh, the elder twin approached Stan, once again looming over him.
“I have thought about this. Long and hard. And no matter which angle I've looked at it, this is the only way. This is the only way I can keep you and the twins completely safe.”
“Safe?! We'll be dead!”
“As I said, you'll live on through me. I'll carry you with me wherever I go. We can still have a life, still have adventures. It's romantic, isn't it?”
Stan rapidly lost control of his breathing. “Y– you really think no one's gonna catch ya?”
Eerily, Ford's grin returned. “Oh, not to worry. Soos and Melody have already been informed that we'll be taking a sailing excursion. Perhaps, for the rest of the Summer. And as for the twins’ parents, well, teenagers can be so flighty. Who knows where they fled to, and why? We'll all be long gone on the ship by then.”
“Kids!” Stan shouted suddenly, gaze spinning wildly between Dipper and Mabel. “Come on, wake up!”
“It's no use, Stan. They're dead to the world.”
The fear and panic that had built up in Stan's chest erupted into fiery anger. His lips curled back, baring his teeth. His breaths came out in shallows huffy through his flared nostrils. He glared up at Ford, pouring all of his rage into a single look.
“I'm sorry, Stanley,” Ford cupped his brother's cheek again. “I really am. I wish there was some other way, but there's not.”
Stan opened his mouth to argue, but he hadn't been expecting the kiss Ford planted on him. A choked, surprised sound hummed in his throat, momentarily too shocked to be angry. And then he was boiling with rage. He bit down harshly on Ford's lip. Ford groaned and his head reeled back, breaking the kiss. Stan felt some sense of satisfaction at that. A toothy sneer overtook his features.
He expected Ford to be angry. What he didn't expect was a groan of pleasure not pain, or for his brother to begin tonguing at the wound, collecting his own blood on his tongue. And he didn't expect Ford to lunge down again, taking advantage of Stan's shock to push his tongue into his mouth, sharing the blood with him. The coppery taste of Ford’s blood hit Stan's tongue and both men groaned into each other's mouths. For the briefest moment, Stan understood his brother's desire. And then the moment was gone, and he bit down on Ford's tongue. Ford only moaned and deepened the kiss further.
When he pulled back, Ford somehow seemed even more crazed and giddy. He looked… Hungry. He was practically salivating over his brother.
Ford disappeared one last time from view while Stan struggled uselessly on the examination table. When he came back, Ford was flicking the air bubbles from another syringe. He looked positively manic.
His voice was a mad whisper. “This was supposed to wait until later, but you're too irresistible. I have to have you now.”
“Stanford, please, don't!”
“Don't worry, Stanley, I promise,” he held Stan's arm still, driving the needle into his skin. “This will ensure that being consumed by me is nothing short of euphoric. You'll be begging for me to eat you.”
And somehow, that made it all the more terrifying.
Mabel panted, her body heaving as she swallowed the last of her brother's cum. She felt tired, but a good kind of tired. She felt dizzy and tired and warm and so, so good. Dipper's fingers stroked at her hair soothingly as Stan peeled his sweaty body off of her, another load of cum flooding from her pushy as the older man slipped his dick out of her. And finally, from behind, Ford lifted Mabel gently up and off of his cock, before pulling her back to rest gently against his chest. She was all pink and cute and loosey-goosey. Absolutely perfect.
Dipper peppered soft kisses across his twin's face while Ford did the same to the crown of her head. Stan disappeared from their room momentarily before reappearing with a glass of water (no matter how much Mabel insisted her signature juice was a perfect post-sex pick-me-up) and a damp cloth. He handed the cloth to Dipper and let him cool her down, before tilting his niece's chin up just so as he pressed the rim of the glass to her lips. All three of them whispered soft praises to her.
When Mabel finished her glass, she laid back against Ford's chest with a happy sigh.
Stan leaned over to press a kiss against her forehead. “Happy eighteenth, Princess.”
Dipper sunk down on the bed beside them, nodding and giving a sigh of his own. “That was a pretty great birthday present.”
Stan cocked a brow. “Whaddaya mean? You ain't got your present just yet.”
He tilted his head like a puppy. “Then, what was that?”
“Well, Mabel is the eldest twin,” Ford explained. Something hungry sparked in his dark eyes. “It's only right she gets her present first.”
Suddenly, Stan was crowding around his nephew, eyes half-lidded. His breath was hot against the boy's skin, almost purring. “Once us and Mabel are ready fer round two, it's your turn, baby boy.”
The sound the younger man made was something caught between a squeak and a keen. The blush on his face deepened into a dark red that took up the entirety of his face and ran down to his chest.
Ford chuckled, drawing attention back to him. “Oh, and we may have forgotten to mention that we showed Mabel one of her other presents a day early.”
“A strap,” she announced, voice a breathy giggle.
Mason bit his lip. The nervous look on his face betrayed his excitement. But the way his once again stiffening cock gave a twitch said everything.
Dipper & Mabel are older teens here. It's implied they all mix n match with each other, but for the 3v1 aspect, it just focuses on Mabel's antics. PG-13.
-
“I think you all know why I've called this family meeting," began Ford, casting a stern look around the table.
Dipper frowned and gave a curt nod.
Stan nodded his own confirmation, though he rolled his eyes as he did so.
Mabel, however, pursed her lips in confusion.
Ford cleared his throat. "I want to preface that I am not here to specifically call any one person out, but to address this as a group."
His gaze swept around the table again in a grand show of equality. It paused, however, to linger with significance on his niece. "The 'public displays of affection', we'll call them, need to be toned down. People are...starting to talk."
Mabel gaped like he'd announced holding hands was a crime now punishable by firing squad. "Wha - come on, seriously?! I can't show my own family I love and appreciate them?"
"I am compelled to point out that performing fellatio in the grocery store parking lot, in the middle of a bright summer's day, is not an appropriate public show of familial appreciation," said Ford. He looked over pointedly at Stan. "Right, Stanley?"
Stan threw his arms up. "Hey, it was her idea! Besides, I parked the car in the back of the lot, nobody saw!"
"Then how, exactly, do I know about it?"
Silence stretched for several long moments.
Ford moved on. "Dipper, you mentioned an incident at the pool. Would you like to share with everyone?"
Dipper looked apologetically at his sister and began hesitantly, though his voice grew stronger as his story gained momentum. "Mabel, you put me in an awkward spot at the pool last week. When you asked if you could give me a kiss, I assumed you meant on the cheek. Not on the mouth. With tongue. In front of literally everyone! I like it when we do those things alone, not around people from town!"
Mabel huffed and crossed her arms. "It's Gravity Falls, no one cares! Tell them it's normal back home."
"Uh, California is progressive, but its not that progressive," replied Dipper and Stan snorted.
"So," said Ford, feeling good about the outcome of the discussion, "I think we've all learned that certain activities should stay more confidential. The enthusiasm is appreciated, but there is a time and a place. And that place is not in public. I think that about wraps things up. Thank you all for your attenti-"
"Hey, Grunkle Ford," Mabel cut in, arms still crossed but with a sly smile spreading over her face, "anything you'd like to confess to?"
Ford had been a lighthouse of self-righteousness up until that moment, and at Mabel's words, he visibly dimmed to more of a pocket flashlight of self-righteousness. He stood and began to edge away from the table. "Not at all. My conscience is quite clear. Unfortunately, I do need to check on an experiment down in the lab -"
Stan flung out an arm to block his exit. "Whoa, hang on! You singled Mabel out for all her PDA, It wouldn't be fair if you didn't own up to yours."
"Yeah, don't be shellfish! Give us the facts to tide us over," Mabel grinned, relishing the rare double opportunity to ruffle Ford's composed feathers and make terrible puns.
Dipper grimaced, then looked suspiciously between the two of them as pieces fell into place. "Wait, did something happen on our trip to the Aquarium last month? Is that why you guys disappeared for 40 minutes?"
"Perhaps," said Mabel, giving Ford a last chance to fess up.
"It wasn't in public, so there's nothing to tell. There was no chance of discovery," said Ford, indignant. He shot her a warning glance, which she promptly ignored.
"We did unspeakable things in the bathroom behind the jellyfish exhibit," she announced. "The whale calls got us all hot and bothered."
"It was single occupancy with a very secure lock on the door!" Ford tossed out as a life saver for his sinking position of being right. Stan wasn't having it.
"It's literally called a public restroom, that's way worse than what I did! If that's where you guys went, then why'd she come back with that giant stuffed narwhal? The tag said 60 bucks!" Stan looked disturbed and scandalized for the first time since the meeting began.
"I may have earned a trip to the gift shop," Mabel said, extremely pleased with herself.
Dipper was shaking his head. "Sorry, whale calls?"
"They're very romantic," Mabel said, and stared dreamily off into the distance.
"Indeed. Quite an impressive and alien beauty," agreed Ford seriously.
Stan had seemingly resigned himself to another afternoon of abnormality and sighed. "This is a weird fuckin' family."
FINALLY doing another prompt for PinesOt4 month bcuz I've been procrastinating :]
Day 22- First!
Tags: SMUT, also trans dipper and mabel, also underage sex because dipper and Mabel are both their Canon ages, also Lee and Ford are highkey cucks, also this isn't beta read and is probably really shitty-
Dipper doesn't really remember how he got here.
Well, that's kind of a lie. Dipper DOES know how he got here, he just didn't expect it to end up like THIS.
He remembered waking up wet that morning, so wet that he had to change his boxers. He remembered eating breakfast. He remembered kissing Mabel good morning, then his Grunkle Stan, and then his Great Uncle Ford.
He remembered whining about the ache between his legs to Mabel, his tone loud enough to be understood by the two older men in the kitchen. He remembered the lust in each of his family members' eyes as they pulled him to their shared bed.
And now he was here. Surrounded by the nude, warm bodies of his relatives, being held and caressed. He was spread open by large, thick fingers that he couldn't distinguish the owner of. The sweaty Pines pile Dipper was trapped in kissed and licked at his skin, eliciting tiny gasps from his throat.
Dipper's world turns on its head as his Grunkle Stan lines Mabel's leaking dick up with Dipper's cunt, his eyes dark with intention. "Go on, kid," he encourages with a pat to Dipper's buttocks. Ford finishes his twin's statement, rumbling, "Fuck your sister for us, my boy."
Everything falls perfectly into place after that. Dipper pushes his hips forward until he's taken Mabel to the base, whining like the soft thing he is at how GOOD it feels. Mabel's dick isn't particularly long or thick, but it's made to fit perfectly inside her brother, her tip pressed against the spongy wall of his G-spot.
Dipper and Mabel spend the rest of the day copulating, physically unable to stop themselves. Mabel's legs are glued around Dipper's waist, while his hands are similarly stuck to her hips. They've both cum at least a dozen times, semen overflowing from where the twins are joined. The twins' great uncles supply the both of them with words of encouragement, water, and a surplus of kisses.
Stanley and Stanford watch their niblings fondly, reflecting on their own first time. Fittingly enough, they were both thirteen at the time themselves, horny and desperate to be as close as possible.
Mabel threw her hands up in victory, controller still gripped in one fist. “Woo! Mabel wins again!”
Dipper leaned in, swinging an arm around her. “Second place, baby.”
Beside them, Stan nudged his twin with a grin. “Ain't you supposed to be the rocket scientist here? How come I'm better at this than you?”
“These games are mere childish frivolity. Winning or losing has no basis on actual ability,” Ford scoffed, arms crossed and his controller long since discarded (read: tossed in a huff). “And you meant to say ‘aren't’.”
“He's just mad cause he screws up the stoplight power boosts,” Dipper teased.
“And then immediately gives up!” Mabel added.
“I have to get it perfect at the start. If I don't, the whole match is thrown off. What's the point in continuing?”
Stan chuckled. “Tight ass.”
Stanford mumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, ‘Oh, you would know, wouldn't you?’
Mabel clapped her hands above her head, drawing her family's attention. She poked a finger at her cheek.
“Oh boys, my celebratory first place smoochies, remember?”
Ford made a show of pouting, but another for a moment as he joined the rest of the Pines men crowding around Mabel to press soft kisses to her face, making her giggle and blush until she was positively drowning in love.
summary: established relationship. kids are eighteen. Some mornings, Stan can be a little late to cook breakfast. Thankfully, he's not alone and his partners start it for him. A peaceful morning after a long night.
The alarm set for six thirty assaulted the silence, no one rising until it's eighth beep, to which Ford promptly slapped it off and retreated back to his shared covers. With the movement, Dipper was slowly waking to the world after a long intimate night. It was still dark, looking to the window to see shreds of light barely peek out amongst shadowed clouds.
He sighed, cuddling back up to Ford for a moment as he observed his partners. The only light came from a nightlight Mabel found and insisted that they needed for Stan's room, one of those glittery fake lava lamp-esque fixtures that cycled through colors constantly. Ford appeared slightly grumpy at the intrusion of sleep but was nodding off quickly with his arms wrapped around Stan, comforted by Dipper's own weight atop him. Stan was dead asleep, snoring decently loud and had an arm wrapped around his sister. Mabel hadn't been awoken at all, lightly snoring herself with her head tucked into Stan's stomach. Times like this is when he's grateful he could convince Stan to get a bigger, better bed for all of them.
Eventually, Mabel wakes up next. Probably subconsciously excited for breakfast. She made a noise of content and blearily looked around the room to see her brother smiling at her. "Morning, Dipper."
"Good morning, Mabes."
"I'm hungry!" She pouted, immediately sitting up out of Stan's hold.
"Maybe we could start it for him? I remember he wanted biscuits, those take some time. Then he could make the eggs after we cook some bacon?"
"Yeah but then what would Ford do? I don't want him to feel left out!"
"Teach him how to finally make Mabeljuice. Oh, and we can't forget to get them coffee."
"Sounds great," She replied, as she untangled from the sheets Stan made a noise of discontent. Dipper does the same, and they pad their way down the old wooden floors. The two have a small discussion on who should start what in which order, then the two get to work as soon as they reach the kitchen.
Mabel preheated the oven first thing, then told Dipper what ingredients to pull out as she started the biscuits, dry ones first in a bowl before the wet ones. He watched happily as he sister sung a tune, then helping ball the dough up once mixed well enough. Once on the baking sheet, she slid it into the oven and set a timer.
Dipper had just put on coffee for their other partners, holding his sister close in the meantime. She leaned against his shoulder as he stood against the counter, arms wrapped around his neck and kissing his cheeks, catching his lips to press all her love and affection through it. He kissed back and cupped her face and chuckling when she moved on to pressing her lips repeatedly along his forehead mark.
The coffee maker shut off in the background, Mabel's cue to choose who uses what cup today. For Stan, it's his '#1 BOSS' mug while Ford got one that said '#1 Weirdest Scientist'. He poured a generous amount in each, before Mabel moved to put the right amount of sugar and creamer in each. Stan only took one creamer while Ford took three tablespoons of sugar and two creamers. After mixing, she carefully shuffled away to walk to Stan's room.
Dipper got started on the bacon, putting the finished pieces under tinfoil. At some point, he had to remove the biscuits and cover them as well. He cooked peacefully, occasionally glancing over to the window of the landscape coming to life slowly between watching the strips cook.
Mabel had put the coffee on the side table next to the bed before crawling up next to Stan in bed, coaxing him awake with a hand on his cheek, "Grunkle Stan, wake up." He grumbled some nonsense but she kissed his face until he hummed at her presence. "We started breakfast, and I brought you both coffee."
He groaned and stretched, popping audibly. "Thanks, pumpkin, so sweet," He muttered, sitting up and blinking himself awake. Looking over, Ford's still half asleep with an arm firmly around his waist. "Hey, Sixer," Stan's fingers traced through his grey hair, stirring at the motion. "It's time for breakfast. You gotta wake up."
"Mmmh, coffee first."
It's a statement, but Stan retaliated with, "Mabel brought some, it's cooling off." That got Ford shuffling up and leaning against his twin at least, covers falling to match the nudity the elder pair shared. "You're a caffeine fiend, you know that, Sixer?"
"Yes," He sighed, looking to Mabel. "Good morning, dear. Thank you for coffee."
"You're welcome. The biscuits and bacon should be done soon, Stan can make eggs while I show Ford how to make Mabeljuice!"
Stan chuckled, throwing off the blanket. "Let's get to it then, sweetie," He grabbed his mug and started walking, Ford barely sitting up all the way as his twin leaves the door open behind him.
Dipper's onto the last few pieces when he heard footsteps. Mabel appeared around the corner, gloating, "I got them up!" as she walked to the table to wait for Ford.
Stan's next, grunting and heaving in a breath of the delicious smell as he paused in the doorway. "Smells great in here," He commented, before stepping behind Dipper and squeezing him tight.
"Morning, Stan," Dipper said, feeling his lips trail up his neck, jaw, cheeks until he slipped between him and the stove to kiss his mouth.
"Morning, thanks for starting breakfast. We had a long night, didn't we?" Stan said, after distinctly tasting salt on his lips. "Also, I'm taking over since you can't wait to eat with everyone."
Half pouting, Dipper kissed him one more time before moving to the table. Mabel's set up the ingredients and a pitcher of water, waiting patiently for their last partner to join them.
Soon enough, Ford shuffled around the corner in a black t-shirt and red boxers while carrying his cup. Stan had grabbed the carton of eggs from the fridge and walked back to the stove, but stopped to kiss him fully.
Watching their older partners do such a thing in front of them always made Mabel's heart jump and pound harder, while Dipper tried to memorize all the details like a paintable scene. He could probably draw it pretty well, but colors were more Mabel's thing.
They separated, and Ford moved to the table, looking a bit more alive but still tired. "So, Mabeljuice and it's ingredients. Let me see here, is that an entire cup of sugar, a few flavoring packets, a pinch of cinnamon, and of course plastic dinosaurs?"
"Wow, you guessed it perfectly! The flavoring is the most important part; strawberry, raspberry, and watermelon."
"Noted. Am I doing the honors of stirring?"
"Yes you are!" Mabel said, and he stepped forward to dump each ingredient into the pitcher. Ford's face curled into confusion as it started to shimmer.
"When did you put in edible glitter, sweetheart?"
"When you weren't looking." She stated, and wrapped her arms around Ford's neck. He poured it for her, then turned to Dipper.
"Do you know when she put it in?"
"A magician never reveals her secrets. And especially her assistant." Dipper happily replied, hearing the sizzle of the pan and Stan's work in the background. There's nowhere he'd rather be. He gazed at Ford scooping up Mabel with his arms and kissing her fiercely, passionately before letting go. She giggled and finally sat at the table opposite of him, Ford sitting right beside him.
Sighing a good sigh and smiling gently, Ford leaned over towards him, "Good morning, Mason."
Humming and scooching to meet him half way, Dipper kissed him softly and held his jaw to steady them. Then the three make vague conversation as to what to do today. Stan asked one by one how they wanted their eggs done, plating them as he went, calling then to make their plates once he was done.
Each of them filled up on the cheesy biscuits, the bacon Dipper made, and the eggs Stan finished. Ford even got himself a glass of Mabeljuice after his coffee. Over their breakfast, they decided to swim at the lake instead of the pool, grateful to have a day to themselves to relax. Together.
Just a reminder..... you can absolutely post smut even during the non nsfw weeks 👁👄👁
*back of my hand on my forehead* Well if i Must...
"How's the fan coming along?"
"Same as it was thirty seconds ago when you asked." Ford grumbled from his nice shadey spot under the counter.
"Well excuse me, you're not the one that's gotta stand in this fucking sunbeam the hottest day of the year." Stanley groaned, waving his shirt to get some air on his skin. He was wearing his shortest shorts and his loosest tank top and he was still dripping in sweat. Ford looked fine though, just a light sheen of sweat, wearing a collared shirt and fiddling with the insides of the electric fan someone sold to the shop a few hours ago.
"You could always sit down here with me."
"No way, Pa says running the counter means being on my feet, and if he puts you behind the counter to yell at me you'll give away the whole store in an hour."
"You always bring that up, I gave a watch away half-price one time when I was twelve because the man was intimidating."
"Yeah. No balls."
"Shuddup."
Stan cackled until Ford kicked him in the shin. "Ow-!" He turned to yell at Ford when the shop door chimed. He stood up straighter.
It was just an old lady, probably there looking for something a grandkid pawned or pawning some broken garbage for birthday money - wouldn't get a good sale either way. He moved behind the huge clunky register, kicking Ford's leg out of the way. The lady wasted no time on the shelves, shuffling right over to him. Ford stopped fiddling with the fan to keep quiet.
"Excuse me?" She asked, putting her little floral purse on the counter to rummage around in her old receipts and butterscotches. Ford put a hand on his knee and he jumped out of his skin.
She looked at him curiously. "Sorry, ma'am, heat's getting to me."
She gave him a smile, going back to looking at her purse long enough for Stan to look down and see what the hell Ford was doing. Ford had crawled over, was now sitting on his knees halfway between him and the counter. He pointed up and Stan looked back up at the old lady.
"You know," She said, stopping her rummaging. "You remind me of my first husband. One of the largest men in my hometown, but jumpy as a mouse after that first war."
Ford palmed at the front of his pants. "HA! Hahaha, really?" He put his hands on the counter to lean on, and the lady decided this meant he was really interested in her senile ramblings.
"Oh, yes, the war ended when John was only twenty, you see, so he was looking for a wife, but he couldn't make it through a whole dinner with all the loud noises and people--" Ford had crawled closer, was sitting pretty straddled on one of Stan's converse and even though both hands were on his thighs dipping fingers up the legs his waistband was still going down so Ford must have been doing it with his teeth--."
"You tryin's pawn something?" He interrupted, voice a little too high. Ford licked the front of his briefs and Stan was leaning most of his weight on the counter at this point.
The old lady waved her hand. "Oh we can talk business later, don't worry, I won't tell your father." Oh great she knew Pa, well wasn't that just perfect. "I know how much young boys love hearing about war heroes."
"Boys? No boys here, nope, just me, boy singular."
"Oh I know, but your father's told me about your brother, and how he doesn't work the counter because you're so good at it. I'm sure you'll want to tell him later, though. Now, John was in the--" Ford pulling him out of his underwear to lick his cock and hearing his father might have bragged about him to someone at the same time almost made him whine like a dog right then and there but he held it. Kind of.
The lady didn't seem to notice, still going on and on. He tried to look down and immediately snapped back up because Ford was staring right at him. Like he was waiting for Stan to slip.
Well tough fucking luck. He was gonna get a good deal from this lady, she was gonna leave and then he was gonna get his hands in Ford's stupid floppy overgrown hair and make him finish what he was starting.
But he couldn't interrupt again, she'd get pissy and he'd lose the sale and that would be losing.
Then Ford's lips were on him, breath hot on the end of his dick and sucking just a little, and maybe losing wasn't all that bad.
But his Pa told this bag of bones he was good at this. He couldn't ruin that, he just couldn't. Even if Ford's hands were in his shorts, one teasing way too close to his balls and the other grabbing his ass like a girl. He kept his head up, nodding along.
"--and then we met and - oh, sweetheart are you feeling ill?" Stan's eyes snapped open.
"No ma'am-mh." He assured. Ford was trying to go deeper, little by little. His teeth kept touching, sending his hairs on end, but his mouth was so warm, hands still moving, driving him crazy.
"Are you sure? This heat must be getting to you." She said but Stan was so close, he could feel it coming, was doing his level best to keep from jerking forward by pressing back into Ford's hand on his ass, one of his fingers kept getting closer to his hole until it butted against it and it reminded him of junior prom, of going all the way, of Ford taking him apart piece by piece like an experiment and then he swallowed and--
Stan bit his tongue hard, making another sort-of-not-a-noise, and there was an old lady hand on his forehead and he was shaking - she would be able to tell, she would know, she would find him out and tell Pa and it would be all over and Ford had left drool cooling on his dick because Ford was leaving him to deal with this himself and--
"--take twenty for it? Then you can go somewhere cool, get yourself some water." the old lady was saying, and Stan squinted at her.
"Ok-okay." He huffed, grabbing a twenty out of the register and slapping it on the counter. Ford was petting his flank like a horse and it was honestly helping a little.
After a second to catch his breath, he looked down at Ford. "What the hell."
"I think you came at a woman's touch."
"Shut up, oh my god I did not! You were the one who wouldn't get offa me." He huffed, kicking at Ford weakly.
"True. But you did buy that horrendously cheap broach for only twenty dollars."
Stan stared at the broach on the counter.
"Terrible business sense I'd say."
"Fuck off you don't even see it."
"I don't need to."
It was a really cheap looking broach. "Shit."
Ford smiled. "I'll pay the difference once I'm taken care of." He said, rolling his hips on Stan's shoe. "Then I'll be the only one to know."
Stan huffed. "Yeah - yeah, fuck, okay. You're the worst."
