── .✦ [ FIC ]: can i really stay here? ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;)
mullet stanley pines x innkeeper reader
tags: angst, hurt/comfort, sfw
word count: 1426
˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚
nothing could have prepared you for the man who walked through the front door of the inn that day.
he looked like death, his chocolate hair tangled, his square jaw riddled with bruises and dirt. heavy eyes fixed themselves upon your figure.
"you got a spare room?"
that voice, gravelly and low, betrayed the exhaustion that plagued this mysterious stranger. you couldn't help but stare for a moment, lost in thought.
"i ... ah, yes, of course. just a room for one?"
your hands swiftly moved to ring him up, pressing a few buttons on the cash register. the man visibly reacted to the metallic sounds of the register, an expression of mild panic settling in.
"yeah ..." he dug through his pockets, patting himself over until he secured a grip on his wallet. pulling it out, he flipped it open, revealing nothing but an ID and a few sticks of gum. he clicked his tongue, defeated. "... this is embarrassing."
it was evident that something wasn't right with him; he looked as if he could collapse at any given moment. should you just deny him service and let him leave? what if he just got himself into deeper trouble? was he even in his right mind?
there was a fleeting moment of awkward silence as the two of you avoided eye contact. you took a sharp breath in.
"... tell me, sir, what's your name?"
his bushy brows rose in surprise. "er ... stan. stan pines." stan gave you a once-over, pulling a sly smirk despite his run-down appearance. "why? ya like what you see?"
a sort of scoffing chuckle left your lips. "this isn't really the time for jokes ..." your eyes trailed down to his stained jacket, torn-up jeans, and over worn shoes. at that, he laughed, which quickly turned into a painful cough. the concern became more evident on your face.
"-ah, you're right, of course. nobody would really want a guy like me, yeah?"
you couldn't bring yourself to respond to that. you could see the storm in his eyes.
turning your back to the counter, you picked up a key that was hanging from the wall, holding it out to him as you met his confused gaze.
"room 34. your stay will be on the house tonight, sir."
"... you're pullin' my leg."
"no, i'm perfectly serious."
hesitantly, he reached out his hand to take the key. your fingers brushed against his rough skin briefly before you pulled your arm back.
stan simply stood there, still processing what had just been given to him. he'd tried this before with numerous other places, and they'd all shut him down. he'd been through ... how many, four, five different states by now? finally, a night where he doesn't have to sleep in his car. the notion of spending a night in an actual bed ... seemed unreal.
"well, i ... damn. th-thanks, toots." he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. a faint shade of pink rose to his cheeks, which he attempted to play off by staring at the ground.
how long had it been since anyone had shown him this kind of generosity?
unsure of what to do, he decided to make his way over to his room, locating the staircase and climbing up, stealing a glance back at you. you watched him ascend the stairs, leaning your arms against the counter.
your mind continued to race. the man looked like he'd just been in a fight. did he have wounds that needed treatment? did he have any place to go? ... of course, those were all personal questions that you knew you shouldn't ask about. he is only a customer ... at least you could offer him somewhere to crash for the night.
it had been two hours.
two hours, and yet, you still couldn't get him off your mind.
you figured you might be able to offer him some dinner.
or was that just you trying to come up with an excuse to see him again? you didn't think about it too hard.
making your way over to the kitchen, you had the chef prep a single serving of food, laying it out on a tray which you picked up and began to walk with. the carpeted floor softened the sound of your footsteps.
arriving at the end of the hall, you stood in front of the door labeled "34", hesitating. you steeled your nerves and knocked gently on its wooden surface.
a few moments passed. you could hear the sound of rustling fabric and footsteps as stan made his way over to the door, opening it and observing his visitor. he was dressed in a bathrobe, his hair damp and his face looking much cleaner than before.
"sorry if i came at a bad time. i just figured you might want a bite to eat." you averted your eyes by glancing to the tray of food you held, a faint blush rising to your face.
twinkling lights began to glisten in place of the dark storm you'd seen in him before. his expression softened in disbelief, and he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
eventually, he spoke.
"why are you doing this?"
"... what do you mean?"
"i mean, you're wastin' your good food 'nd room. you deserve your money-"
he cut himself off, swallowing back a bitter feeling in his throat.
"-i ... i need to ... pay it back."
oh. is he ... crying?
you could feel your heart wrench in your chest. "s-stan. it's okay."
he furiously blinked back tears, taking a deep breath and putting on a weary grin. "will ya keep that food hot for me? i'm just gonna get dressed. i think i'll eat it downstairs."
"oh, of course."
"thanks a bunch." he winked at you, then shut the door, leaving you to stare at the room label again. you blinked, then turned around to head back down.
after some time of waiting in the kitchen, you caught the sight of him descending the staircase and walking over to you. he was wearing a different shirt, although his jacket and jeans were the same. his hair was dry and much poofier now that it was clean. you caught yourself staring at his mullet.
"didja wait for too long?" stan pulled out a stool from the bar, taking a seat and watching as you put his plate of food in front of him.
"nah, you're okay." you offered a small smile. "feel free to dig in."
and boy, did he dig in. this man hasn't had a proper meal in forever. his daily diet has consisted of strictly rationed cheap snacks and the occasional stolen burger and fries. you swore you've never seen a guy so happy to eat something before in your life. somehow, watching him was making you feel warm inside.
"this ... is the best food i ever tasted." stan mumbled, looking up at you in between bites. all sorts of different emotions were raging inside of him, and the feeling of being properly nourished was bringing them up to the surface. his brown eyes began to overflow with tears, and he cursed underneath his breath, eating more aggressively to try and distract himself.
"uh, stan? are you alright?"
that was the last straw. his brows knit together and he swallowed his food, dropping his fork onto the plate. the tears were flowing freely now.
"no. dammit, i'm not alright."
stan covered his face with one arm, his broad frame trembling as he choked back bitter sobs.
"it's just that ... m-my parents, and i ... s-see- and my brother-"
he hunched over, shifting to cover his face with both hands. everything was crashing down.
"oh, God, my brother ..."
you walked out from behind the bar, making your way over to where he sat and taking the seat next to him. you didn't really think at all, you just slid your arm around his back and-
the instant he felt your touch, stanley clung onto you desperately.
onto somebody who was showing him hospitality. onto somebody who cared enough to worry about his health. onto somebody unlike anybody else he'd met these past few years.
burying his face into your shoulder, he pulled you closer against him.
"'m sorry ... don't leave me alone."
the wetness of his tears soaked into your shirt, but you didn't mind. here in your arms was a little boy who just needed a hug.
you barely knew each other, but you had a feeling that was going to change.
── .✦ [ FIC ]: can i really stay here? [ part three ]
[ part one & part two ]
mullet stanley pines x innkeeper reader
tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, sfw
word count: 1765
˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚
he was so obviously staring at you.
it was a crisp fall morning, and a light sweat formed on your brow as you swept the floor by the front desk. you’d been at it for a while, and about halfway through, stan had meandered down the stairs and happened to see you. presently, he was casually leaning against the wall, and you could feel his eyes on your back.
there were moments where you’d turn your head in his direction, and he would jolt and quickly look the other way. you rolled your eyes amusedly, wondering what he could be thinking of.
after a moment of thought, you spoke up, your gaze still focused on the broom in your hands. “so, whatcha doin’, stan?”
there was nobody else in the lobby, so he didn’t really have a good excuse to pull out of his back pocket. he looked up, drumming his fingers against the wall. “uhhh … nothin’. what’s it to ya?”
“you know, you can come closer if you want to.” you shook your head, chuckling. the broad-built man sighed in defeat, pushing himself off of the wall and walking over to lean against the front desk instead.
as you continued to sweep, he pursed his lips, fidgeting with the edge of his t-shirt. “hey, uh. i been thinkin’.”
you gave him a glance over your shoulder. “yeah?”
one of his hands wandered up to his shaggy mullet, tugging absentmindedly at chocolate brown hairs. “well, i’ve been stayin’ with you for a few days now … and i really appreciate your help. i … i’m still tryin’ ta think of ways to make a buck, but … a–anyway, what’s i’m saying is—”
he stammered, blushing faintly as he averted his gaze. it was frustratingly difficult to be so open and honest.
“ … is–is there any way i could help you out? since i’m not payin’ at all …”
you straightened, turning to fully face him. his desire to settle his debt was endearing, but you knew in your heart that he really didn’t owe you anything. you wanted him to have someone to watch out for him, someone to care about him.
someone to … love him.
“i really appreciate it, but it’s okay.” you grinned, warm with compassion.
stan blinked, and he suddenly found that his heart was aching in his chest again. just as it had at the diner, as it had when he took that key from your hand …
his square jaw clenched shut as your genuine empathy pierced into him like daggers.
“please.”
he almost sounded desperate.
“i, uh. i just don’t like ta feel useless.”
after studying his expression for a moment, your smile softened.
“okay.” swiftly, you extended the broom towards him, raising your brows. “wanna finish sweeping in the lobby? i can start on the dusting.”
immediately, he lit up. “alright, angel. i’ll sweep this place so good, you’d never guess that anyone’s set foot in it.”
taking hold of the broomstick, the brunet got to work, happily gathering dust bunnies, crumbs, and random bits of trash that various customers had left behind. you rummaged around in the supply closet for the duster, pulling it out and starting to clean up different decorative objects and shelftops.
the soft music emanating from the record player served to create a peaceful atmosphere. occasionally, one or two patrons would pass through, but for the most part, it was quiet.
after you’d taken care of all the dusty surfaces in the room, you put the duster away, lighting a pumpkin spice scented candle and carefully placing it on a table in the center of the lobby.
“hmm ... wow, that’s nice.” stan hummed, clearly affected by the calming aroma.
“i know, right? i love having this scent in the fall–”
you stopped abruptly upon seeing the perfectly clean floors. it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes, and yet all of it was spotless.
“wow, stan, you made quick work of that! good job!”
stanley puffed out his chest, clearly smug and quite proud of himself, like a small child showing you a drawing they had worked hard on. “i told you. ain’t i helpful?”
“you’re a huge help, thank you.”
he hadn’t been praised like this in so long. he was practically glowing at this point.
“so, er … what else can i help ya with?” he stepped closer to you, hands on his hips.
you racked your brain in an attempt to think of what else needed to get done around the inn. “oh, i know. a shipment arrived for us earlier today, but they’re both heavy boxes that i can’t quite move on my own. would you w–”
“I’M ON IT! lead the way, sweetheart!”
“o–okay–” you led him around to the back to collect the packages, trying so hard not to let his pet names affect you. nonetheless, you were blushing like an idiot.
next thing you knew, you were watching him carry two heavy boxes with ease, one on each arm. he had rolled up his jacket sleeves, revealing his muscular forearms.
… it’s fall, right? it’s not supposed to be this hot in here.
“where to, toots?” he grunted, arching a brow.
“uh … the storage room. this way.” you were avoiding eye contact as much as possible. everything about this guy was attractive right now.
oh God, don’t let me die yet…
after the contents of the boxes were successfully unloaded and put away, the two of you sat at the kitchen bar, helping yourselves to the lunch that your chef had made. stan ate enthusiastically, probably in the best mood that you’d ever seen him in. why that was, exactly, you weren’t sure—you were too overwhelmed to figure it out. there was just something about the way he looked at you that was making you silently freak out.
i know that he’s been calling me names even since we first met. it seems like it’s just a thing that he does with everyone … but lately, they really don’t feel like just names.
i don’t know. am i going crazy? i might be. and yet …
chewing on a mouthful of rice, you snuck a sideways peek at the man beside you, admiring his chiseled jaw and dark brown hair. that is, until he caught you looking, and you nearly choked on your food.
“what? ‘s there somethin’ on my face?” he chuckled, his tone taunting.
“i, uh, i thought there might’ve been–but you’re fine. no worries.” bullcrap.
“hah, whatever you say.”
you continued to eat in silence. your fork was slipping in your hand.
just great. my palms are sweating.
this … hasn’t happened to you since high school. butterflies and blushing suddenly clouded your brain whenever he was close to you. how did it even start? he just walked into your life, and …
you were so lost in your thoughts, you didn’t process stan calling your name for the third time in a row. it wasn’t until he put his hand on your shoulder that you snapped out of it.
“gh– huh?” your face was redder than a cherry tomato.
“hey, you alright? yer actin’ all spacey.” he was evidently concerned this time. “how many fingers am i holdin’ up?”
“f–four.” you exhaled, rubbing your temples with one hand. “i’m fine, just lost in thought, is all. thanks, stan.” you offered a small smile as you fought the raging butterflies in your stomach.
stan nodded in understanding, gently taking his hand off your shoulder.
“okay, just lemme know if you need anything.”
with that, he took care of his plate, rinsing it off in the sink before making his way up to his room. your chef walked into the kitchen, shooting you a look as you handed him your half-full plate.
“sorry, i don’t think i can eat any more. i’m feeling … nauseous.”
it was around six o’clock in the evening now, and you sat up in your personal living room on the very top floor of the inn, falling deeper and deeper into your thoughts.
do i … really like him that much?
am i in love?
you tangled your fingers into your hair, hunching over slightly.
but … so quickly? i’ve only known him for a number of days. is that a thing that happens!?
what if he doesn’t like me back? what if he flirts with everyone? what if he thinks i’m weird for liking him? does he know i like him?
just then, you heard a knocking on your door.
oh.
heart thudding violently in your chest, you swallowed your anxiety, standing up from your sofa to find out who it could be. you turned the doorknob, letting it swing open.
the first thing you saw was a beautiful bouquet of red tulips.
your gaze trailed up to find stanley’s broad figure, dressed in slacks and a flattering button-up top. he had pulled his hair back into a ponytail, although a few stray hairs remained out of place.
his brown eyes met your own, and your breath hitched in your throat.
“hey. listen, uh … these are for you, first of all.” he handed the bouquet to you, which you mindlessly accepted, being unable to look away from his face.
“i … wanted t’ properly say thank you. lettin’ me stay here has helped me get my mind right ‘nd allowed me to think about the important things.”
he took a breath.
“and, well … i figured out that you’re real important to me. so. i–i was wonderin’ if you’d wanna grab dinner tonight?”
“… dinner?”
“y–yeah, like a date–”
your cheeks flushed a dark shade of red, matching the tulips you held in your arms.
stan tripped over his words, staring at the floor. “and i, uh—i understand if you’re not interested–”
“no! i mean, yes! yes, i’m–i’m very interested.” you rushed to answer him, not fully realizing that a gleeful smile had broken out onto your expression. “i just … wow …”
he laughed, beaming with joy as he realized that the answer was yes. “oh, damn, i didn’t actually expect to get this far…!” gently, he scooped you into a snug embrace, lifting you off of your feet slightly. “thank you, angel.”
“... anything for you.” you murmured in reply, hugging him back for a sweet moment before the two of you stepped apart. “let me just get ready, then.”
“sounds good, doll. i’ll be waitin’ downstairs.”
and just like that, the door was shut, and you were left to stare at the red tulips in your hands.
end
[ part four ]
author's note:
screaming into a pillow kicking my feet giggling
i wrote this one so fast somehow ??? i had a vision
if you wanna be added to the tag list for updates, lmk!
── .✦ [ FIC ]: can i really stay here? [ part two ]
[ a continuation of part one ]
mullet stanley pines x innkeeper reader
tags: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, sfw
word count: 1875
˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚
in any other circumstances, you wouldn’t even dare to imagine holding a man you had just met the same day.
but stan … was different.
when your eyes first locked with his from across the counter, you could tell that he was hurting, and badly. he was trying so hard to cover it up, and it worked for the most part — after all, up until now, nobody had cared about him enough to see through his facade.
but you saw straight through him. and not only that, you actually did something about it. you offered to care for his needs, at your own expense.
his father only ever saw him as an expense.
so, there you were, sitting at the bar, holding onto the maroon fabric of his jacket as he trembled like a leaf.
the scent of cigarette smoke and pine needles was strong in your nose as he buried his face into your shoulder. you could feel his stubble scratching against your skin.
there was a part of you that wanted to speak up and comfort him, but ultimately you decided against it. you didn’t quite know enough about him to be able to speak to his situation.
after a few minutes, stan seemed to be calming down. his breathing became even, although he was still clinging onto you tightly.
“i …”
his voice was cracked and raspy.
“i … screwed up. i don’t … know how i’m gonna fix it.”
your brow furrowed as you listened to him.
“y’know, stan … i don’t know what you’re going through. but can you do me one favor?”
“... yeah?”
“look at me.”
slowly, the brunet lifted his head, pulling himself back just enough to be able to look at you. his eyes were red and puffy, but his gaze was sincere.
you looked back at him, determined. “i’m gonna help you out.”
stan didn’t know how to react. he swallowed a lump in his throat, scanning your face as if to check whether you were lying to him or not.
“... you don’t … hafta do that. i brought it on myself—”
“i don’t care.”
his eyes widened.
“if i can keep somebody from a worse fate, then i’ll do it. let me give you a place to stay, even if it’s just for a little while.” you smiled warmly, squeezing his arm for emphasis. “you shouldn’t have to feel like your life means nothing.”
“… you’re an angel.”
those words made you blush. “i–i wouldn’t say that—”
uh-oh, he’s smirking now. chuckling lowly, he let go of you so that he could cross his arms over his chest.
“what, are you tryna tell me you’re not sent from heaven? think about it. you’re saving my biscuits here, toots.” there was serious gratitude in his tone, despite his teasing. at least he seemed to be in a better mood. “i think i’ll hafta call you that more often, yeah? angel.”
you laughed nervously, trying desperately to distract yourself from your red hot face. “really? h–how interesting …”
stan snickered again, gazing at you for a moment longer with fondness dancing in his brown eyes. then, glancing at the wall clock, he realized the time. “damn, it’s midnight. i should probably stop bothering you ‘nd get to bed, huh?”
“huh, it is late … i should sleep, too.”
“then it’s decided. i’ll see ya tomorrow.” he hummed, standing from his seat and stretching out his arms before cracking a soft smile and turning around to walk towards his room.
you were left to watch him leave, your eyes following his footsteps as he made his way back up the staircase.
approximately eight hours later, you awoke to the sunlight gently filtering through your bedside window, causing your eyelids to flutter open.
the events of last night came flooding back into your mind.
i guess i’ll be seeing a whole lot more of him …
sitting up in bed, you yawned, rubbing your face sleepily.
“mm … what time is it …”
the alarm clock on your nightstand read 8:02 am.
shoot, i overslept—oh, wait. it’s my day off.
that little fact was enough to put you in a good mood for the morning. humming happily to yourself, you began to get ready for the day, picking out a comfortable outfit and a few accessories.
descending two flights of stairs, you wandered into the lobby of your inn, greeting a few different patrons and employees with a cheerful wave. it was breakfast rush hour for the kitchen, and you could catch glimpses of your executive chef running to and fro behind the bar.
he seems pretty busy today. maybe i’ll grab a bite to eat somewhere? hmm, but the question is where …
just then, your train of thought was interrupted by the sound of someone calling out your name.
you whipped around to locate the voice’s source, and there was stan, walking towards you at a leisurely pace. a radiant grin broke out on your face.
“stan! hey, good morning! how’d you sleep?”
raising a brow, he chuckled at your energy. “well, good morning, sunshine. i slept like a baby, thanks t’ you.”
“ah, don’t mention it.” you smiled, placing your hands on your hips. “i’m just glad you could sleep.”
the two of you looked at each other for a second.
why did his stare make you feel butterflies in your chest?
probably unimportant ………… right? yeah.
clearing your throat, you averted your gaze before you started to blush again. “so, um … have you had anything to eat yet?”
“nah. i was just about to, though.” to be frank, he had totally forgotten that he had access to breakfast until you just mentioned it.
“sounds goo–”
you paused mid-sentence, remembering something.
“actually … i was planning on eating out for breakfast today. would you wanna join me? since the kitchen is bustling and all …”
oh, wow. did you really just ask him out to breakfast? it didn’t hit you until after you had said it out loud that it could be considered that way. oops. was that weird? were you weird? augh.
stan had half a mind to tease you senseless for how cute that was, but after thinking about it, he decided against it. he wouldn’t wanna ruin his chances at having breakfast with you.
“you kiddin’? i’d love that.” he nodded his head, flattered and amused. “not many people can say they’ve had breakfast with an angel, ya know.”
your ears turned red.
i walked right into that one. darn you and your smooth talking …
“oh, let’s just go already.” embarrassed, you grabbed his wrist, pulling him along towards the front door. stan laughed heartily, allowing himself to be led.
it wasn’t long before you arrived at one of your favorite diners in town, known for their homey atmosphere and good breakfast. walking into the building, you were met with the smell of eggs, bacon, and coffee. the two of you breathed it in simultaneously, sighing.
“reminds me of breakfast as a kid.” stanley mused, thinking of the days when he and ford would poke at each other’s food and giggle. you smiled, watching his expression.
“c’mon, this way.” you beckoned him over towards the table you usually sat at, and a familiar waitress walked over to you as you settled in.
“good morning, loyal patron~ i see you’ve brought a plus one today, yes?”
“uh—yes. don’t go jumping to conclusions, though …”
the waitress grinned innocently. “of course. now, what can i get for you two?”
stan wound up ordering pancakes with bacon and eggs, while you settled on some waffles and a mug of coffee. you could have sworn you saw that waitress giggling to her coworker about something as she went on her way, but you shook your head to yourself in an attempt to ignore it. instead, you directed your attention towards the man sitting across from you.
“so, i’m guessin’ you’re a regular here?” he tilted his head, leaning back against his seat. there was a smirk plastered onto his face that you couldn’t quite decipher.
“you would guess correctly.” you hummed, picking up the salt shaker on the table and fidgeting with it absentmindedly. “have you ever been?”
a rumbling sigh escaped his lips.
“nah … i’m not exactly from around here.”
your gaze was trained on him. so far, he’s kept a laid-back demeanor, not to mention that little smirk that drives you insane—but you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was way more depth to his character than he let on.
“yeah? where’re you from?”
“...”
there was a brief silence. his chocolate brown eyes, warmly lit by the sun, stared into your soul.
“i’m from new jersey.”
your eyebrows shot up. “from jersey? wow … you’re far from home, then.”
“it’s not home anymore.”
you opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again. stan was staring out the window, a frown creasing his face.
“i … sorry. sensitive topic?”
he turned back to you, a faint blush appearing on his face. “uh … well, yeah, i guess … it’s okay.”
“come again?”
“... it’s, uh—i–i’m okay, if it’s you.”
he was a darker shade of red now, scratching awkwardly at his stubble. he felt so … vulnerable. but somehow, he was okay with it.
at that moment, the waitress came back with plates of food. “order up!”
you watched as you were served, salivating as you saw golden waffles covered in butter and syrup smiling up at you. it didn’t take long for the both of you to start digging in.
“... wow.” after the first few bites, stan had stars in his eyes. “it tastes just like ma’s.”
“was your mom a good cook?”
he snorted. “well, she wasn’t exactly a michelin star chef, but she could make some damn good flapjacks. at least, i sure thought so.” putting another forkful of pancake into his mouth, he chewed thoughtfully. you simply propped your head on one hand, watching.
“i always told her she could sell ‘em for a fortune.”
his tone was soft with nostalgia.
“she just laughed. prob’ly cause i was five when i told her that.”
“they must’ve been really something, huh?”
“they were. all my life, i dreamt of selling somethin’ as good as that. i haven’t stopped trying, either.”
he scoffed.
“most of ‘em have been a bust.”
you hummed softly in understanding.
“you’re still trying, though. that’s worth more than any failed effort.”
he looked up from his plate. “... you think so?”
“sure i do.” lifting your mug, you took a sip of coffee. “perseverance is worth a lot.”
stan could barely handle your uplifting words. his heart was squeezing in his chest. covering his flustered face with one hand, he leaned against the table, grumbling.
“... an angel … God sent an angel.”
“what?”
“what? nothing.”
a few hours later, you were walking side by side back to the inn. stan couldn’t help but admire the way the fall breeze tousled your hair, and the gentle smile on his face was speaking his thoughts out loud.
he’d never known that somebody this beautiful could even exist.
maybe ...
maybe he hasn’t hit rock bottom quite yet.
end
[ part three ]
author's note:
thank you for all the love on this fic !!! :D
i gotta keep cooking.
if you have any fic or headcanon requests, hit up my askbox! <3
tag list: @icouldntthinkofanythingclever @seahorrorz @blustalker @hay-needle @phanmai1002
── .✦ [ FIC ]: can i really stay here? [ part five ]
[ part one ] & [ part two ] & [ part three ] & [ part four ]
mullet stanley pines x innkeeper reader
tags: fluff, sfw, a bit of suggestive talk
word count: 2029
˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚
the serene atmosphere of your sunlit bedroom was suddenly disturbed as you jolted up in bed with a gasp.
heart racing and head spinning, you sat there, stunned.
was it … just a dream?
your brow furrowed as you looked up and around the familiar space. there was your bookshelf, your desk, your chair … oh.
you rubbed your eyes to do a double take at your chair. sure enough, atop it laid the two-piece outfit you had worn out with stanley last night.
slowly, a wide grin spread across your face. as you began to get out of bed and prepare yourself for the day, memories came back to you one by one.
let’s see, then … when we got back here, we had that conversation in the car. i remember being really sleepy, and kind of stumbling into the inn.
you wandered into your bathroom, splashing your face with cold water.
then, we parted ways. he practically skipped away to his room.
the faucet ran as you laughed softly to yourself. a certain warmth filled your chest, spreading throughout your body: an uncontrollable joy.
who would’ve guessed? me, in love … i’m so happy.
suddenly, everything was peaches, unicorns, and rainbows. you felt as if the butterflies in your stomach were throwing a wild dance party, and all the world was invited. ecstatic, you danced around your room, putting on day clothes and taking extra care as you groomed yourself. yes, this called for three extra spritzes of your favorite fragrance. absolutely, it required your nicest jewelry. after all, you were on a serotonin high, and you never wanted to come down—the person that you love loves you back!
as you made your way out into the hallway, a part of you was tempted to slide down the staircase like mary poppins, but you quickly decided against it as you recalled your lack of magical gravity-altering powers. instead, you settled for a regular-paced descent, walking down both sets of stairs until you came out into the lobby.
you waved to one of your employees at the front desk. “good morning!”
“ah, good morning, boss. you sound cheery today. did something good happen?”
“wellll, yeahhh, you could say that …” you beamed, covering your mouth like a child with an innocent secret.
the worker laughed, shaking his head. “i won’t pry, although i do have a guess as to what it is. you’re all set to take your shift, by the way.” he walked out from the desk, and you took his place, watching as he disappeared to go on break.
just then, a hand touched your shoulder.
“boo.”
you jumped, whipping around to the source of the voice. a smug stanley stood beside you, laughing at the reaction he’d managed from you.
“haha! hey, don’t be scared, toots. ‘s just me.” he winked, giving you a small squeeze before letting his arm fall down to his side. “ya look cute t’day.”
“you look pretty nice yourself.” you hummed, giving him a quick once-over. that earned a small blush from stan, who stammered as he attempted to think of a comeback.
“oh—oh yeah? well you—uh … ahh, i got nothin’.” he grinned sheepishly, pleasantly surprised at the way you were matching his energy.
at that moment, the little entrance bell rung as the front door swung open. a new guest had entered the building. recognizing this, stan took his cue to back away and let you do your job.
the stranger approached the front desk, and you offered him a smile. “welcome to the inn! just a room for one today?”
the stranger, who appeared to be tall and blond, stared at you with piercing blue eyes. “yes … that was the plan. but i must say, you’re a charming little doll. you might just make it a room for two.”
you were taken aback. “sir—”
“hey, can you blame me? i’m in town for a tour, and i’m awfully bored … why don’t you humor me?”
*SLAM*
stanley’s rough hand hit the desk surface with force as he positioned himself between the stranger and yourself.
“you got a problem?”
his threatening words rumbled lowly, striking through the air like thunder.
“what’s it to you, lowlife raccoon? do you really think you’re scaring anyone with that attitude?”
the bulkier man growled, his eye twitching. “you wanna take this outside, punk?”
“yes, let’s. i’d hate for your little crush here to watch you get hurt.”
immediately, alarm bells went off in your head. “wait, what—”
stan began to walk towards the back door with the troublemaker. shooting a glance back at you, he mouthed ‘don’t worry’ before closing the door behind him. of course, that only made you worry twice as much.
a part of you longed to follow them and make sure nothing bad happened, but you knew that you couldn’t just abandon the desk during your shift. an anxious breath escaped from your lips as you craned your neck to try and see if you could catch a glance of them through the window.
mere seconds later, there was a distant crash. you startled, quickly running over to the back door and opening it to look for the two men. much to your relief, stanley came walking back over to you from around the corner, completely unscathed.
“guy ran off all scared after i knocked his tooth out. said sumthin’ about his ‘career being ruined’. tch, what a wuss.” he rolled his eyes, sliding his arm around your waist and walking you back towards the front desk. “sorry he said that stuff to ya. i took care of it, though, yeah?”
you flushed a shade of red at his arm around you and his close proximity. “y–yes. thank you, stan.”
the brunet puffed up with pride. “anytime, angel. if somebody tries anything like that again, y’ come get me. i’ll take care of you.”
looking this way and that, he leaned in and planted a soft kiss on your cheek before grabbing his car keys and walking towards the front door. “i gotta thing to do. see ya later, gator.”
you stood frozen in place, processing what had just happened. explosions were going off in your brain, and stan chuckled to himself as he left the inn.
some time passed, and it was finally your lunch break. you’d been thoroughly distracted all morning by the way stanley had been acting towards you.
he’s so … clingy. ugh, i miss him already.
his hair is so pretty … and his eyes … and that stubble …
you were slowly being pulled into daydream land—but the rumbling of your stomach snapped you out of it.
“urgh. time to eat.” you mumbled to yourself, making your way to your room. there were some leftovers in the fridge that were practically calling your name.
after retrieving the box of food and a clean fork, you turned around to return to the lobby, but stopped in your tracks upon seeing someone standing in the doorway.
“heya, toots!” stan beamed, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. “yer never gonna believe what just happened.”
this was the most excited and happy you’d ever seen him. intrigued, you set down your leftovers on the table, giving him your full attention. “what is it?”
“i just landed a security guard gig for the theater down the street. they figured out i could throw a punch or two, an’ offered to pay me full-time to keep troublemakers away from their shows!”
your eyes widened as you realized what this meant. “then … that means …”
“i can stick around n’ actually have a chance at making the green i need!” grinning, he threw his arms around you. “i’ll stop takin’ up space here, n’ get a place for us—i mean, me—i mean—”
you laughed, squeezing him tightly and resting your head on his shoulder. “stan, i am so proud of you!”
hearing those words did something inside of him. his whole body tensed, then relaxed, overwhelmed with emotion. “you … you are?”
“of course! i love you too much to feel any other way, y’know.”
tears stung at his vision, and he hastily rubbed them away with his sleeve. “... heh, thank you.”
stepping back to look him in the eye, you rested both hands on top of his shoulders. “when you first got here … i could tell how unhappy you were. i hated seeing you like that.” you moved one hand to brush some hair out of his face. “and now look at you. you’ve come so far.”
stan melted into your touch, leaning his face into the palm of your hand without thinking. “yeah, i … i guess i have come a ways, huh?” he sighed, a tender smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “honestly, you were the one who caused it. ‘f it weren’t for all your help, i … i’d prob’ly be in an even darker place than i was before.” turning his head, he kissed the inside of your palm. “thank you.”
you blushed, your whole body warm with happiness, gratitude, and excitement. “well, i couldn’t just ignore you.” you pulled him into another embrace, unable to wipe the smile off your face. “stanley, you’ve captivated me, mind, heart, and soul.”
he hummed lowly, pushing your hair back to press another kiss to your forehead. “you did the same thing to me. i … just can’t stop thinkin’ about you.” he pulled his head back to gaze at you lovingly. “... ‘bout how lucky i got to find you.. my angel.”
“i love you.”
“heh– not more than i do, toots.”
“no proof.”
you were just inches away from a second-ever kiss when a knock on the door rudely interrupted, causing the two of you to jump away from each other and stare as it began to open.
“oh sh–” stan slapped his hand over his mouth, diving behind the sofa to hide. all you could do was stand there as normally as you possibly could, pretending like nothing important had been previously happening.
“uh … was there someone else in here, too?”
it was your coworker from earlier that day.
“NOPE! nobody. just me. why would you think that?”
he narrowed his eyes. “right … you know it’s your property, it’s okay if there was someone.” shaking his head, he remembered his initial purpose. “anyway, i just wanted to come find you to see if you wanted to go out to lunch with me and liz.”
“oh. well, uh …”
“... it would also be a nice opportunity to tell us about any … juicy secrets?”
you snickered, shaking your head fondly. “well, fine. i’ll tag along, then—with a plus one.”
“I KNEW IT! —i mean, uh, cool, good deal. we’re meeting in the lobby in ten.”
“i’ll be there.” you waved goodbye as he shut the door, and stan reappeared from behind the couch. the two of you simply exchanged looks, and started laughing.
so, you had a lovely lunch outing with two of your co-workers and a rather nervous stanley. he was surprisingly shy for the intimidating big-guy persona that he gave off, which was adorable. it didn’t take long for him to earn the approval of the others—they were both moved to tears after listening to his life story. jeff, the male of the two, kept complaining about how it wasn’t fair that you had such a good man just suddenly show up on your doorstep, whereas liz warned stan that if he ever hurt you he would have to deal with her. all in all, the whole group had a great time.
presently, you were sorting through a mail delivery that had come for the inn, making different piles for guests and employees who had received letters and other packages.
it was just then that something caught your eye.
it was a postcard … addressed to stan.
huh … i wonder what this could be about?
you stifled your curiosities and stopped yourself from reading his mail, and instead chose to slip it underneath his door.
oh, well. i’m sure it’s nothing important.
… right?
end
author's note:
*holds stanley so gently in the palm of my hand*
love this guy ... what a guy
drop a comment to be added to the taglist for part six :)
── .✦ [ FIC ]: can i really stay here? [ part four ]
[ part one & part two & part three ]
mullet stanley pines x innkeeper reader
tags: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, sfw
word count: 1531
˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚
it took you about a half hour to get ready.
okay, maybe you spent a solid five minutes screaming into a pillow, but that’s besides the point.
descending the staircase of the inn, you emerged in the lobby, dressed up and dreamy. stan pines has spent years perfecting his poker face, but when he laid eyes on you, he couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping.
he was so glad that he gambled on a ‘yes.’
“sweet moses.” he breathed, rubbing his face with one hand before taking another good, long look at you.
“how do i look?” you carefully pushed a stray hair back into place, glancing expectantly at your flabbergasted date.
“like you fell from heaven.” a smug grin grew on his face. he was smitten. “i’d offer you my arm, but you look too perfect to touch.”
his charm was working wonders on you. you chuckled softly, rosy cheeks hinting at the feelings that raged within. “i’m far from perfect, you know.”
he held out his hand to you, his voice low. “not in my eyes, doll. i call you angel for a reason.”
you took his hand, and he led you out to where his car was parked. he made a point of opening the passenger side door for you, shutting it after you were situated and coming around to the driver’s side.
you could faintly smell the cigarette smoke that stubbornly clung onto the car, but he had totally cleaned up the interior, having crammed all his things into the trunk and scrubbed away troublesome stains. there was even a small pine tree air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror.
“i hope y’like the place i picked. it ain’t much, but i figured it’d be nice.” starting the engine, he snaked his arm around the back of your headrest, looking over his shoulder as he reversed out of the parking lot and made his way out onto the road. you could feel yourself practically buzzing with excitement and curiosity, smiling and folding your hands in your lap.
it was about a five-minute car ride, and neon lights illuminating the bustling cityscape made for a nice view. you found yourself pulling into the parking lot of one of the nicest restaurants in town. wait a second …
your brows rose. “stan, this is—”
you were cut off as he shushed you, waving his hand dismissively. “don’t even think about it. don’t worry about it. just let me do this for ya, alright?”
“but—”
his hand gently pushed your mouth shut from underneath your chin, tilting your head towards him. “it’s my turn t’ be the nice one. ya got it?”
all you could do was silently nod your head. you wanted to question how much this was costing him, but it was obvious that he didn’t want you to know that.
a moment later, you walked into the restaurant, and a waiter led you to your table. sitting down across from stan, you looked around the place, fascinated.
“you know, i’ve always wanted to check this place out, but i’ve just never had a reason to.” you smiled, returning your focus to him. “this is exciting!”
“oh yeah? huh, musta been a lucky guess.” he sighed, his eyes narrowing as he gazed at you.
the waiter came around, and you placed your orders. stanley could barely take his eyes off you the whole time, and they stayed just as glued in place after the waiter left.
“so, i’m gonna cut to the chase …” he paused, fidgeting with a fork on the table, never breaking eye contact.
“... i wanna know everything about you.”
you felt your face heat up. he was staring at you with a lot more intent than he had the last time you’d gone out to eat together.
“you do? … everything?”
“you heard me.” his tone was soft, but serious. “whatever you’re willing t' share, i’ll gratefully take.”
your heart beat louder in your chest. this man genuinely wanted to get closer to you.
“well … my mom is a schoolteacher, and my dad works for the bank.” you stroked your chin thoughtfully. “i’ve always been told i’m good at hosting people. i think that’s sort of what inspired me to open an inn in the first place.”
you continued to infodump about your life, your passions, and whatever else came to mind. stanley was loving every single second of it. he’d occasionally pipe in with a comment on something you’d said, but for the most part, he just gazed dreamily, leaning his head against one hand.
the conversation kept on going throughout the meal, and the two of you took turns talking while the other took a few bites of food. you hadn’t spent quality time with someone like this in so long—you’ve only been worried about minding the inn for the past few years—and you found that you were totally captivated by him.
you wanted to stay like this forever.
after swallowing a mouthful of food, you met his warm brown eyes with your own. “hey, stan?”
“hmm?”
“how long are you staying for?”
he paused, setting down his utensil and straightening in his seat.
“i mean … i wanna keep doing this with you.” your voice was quieter. “getting to know each other, just … talking. but … i know your stay with me is probably temporary …”
his bit his lower lip for a moment, looking down. the bill came, and he scribbled a signature, handing the waiter a few folded bills along with the receipt.
“let’s head out, yeah?”
“okay …”
the car ride back to the inn was silent, save for the ambience of surrounding traffic and the low hum of the radio. there was a certain tension hanging in the air.
pulling into the parking lot, stan put the car in park, taking the key out.
“look.”
he shifted in his seat, turning his body towards you. nervously, he reached one hand out, placing it on your arm and capturing your attention.
“i’ve been walking a tightrope for what feels like forever. and … i don’t know if i’ll get the privilege of keeping you in my life.”
your heart skipped a beat.
he took a deep breath. “i know damn well i don’t deserve you. hell, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. when i’m with you, i feel like i can be appreciated by somebody …” he swallowed a lump in his throat.
“... nobody has ever made me feel that way before.”
tears welled up quietly. he clenched his teeth, fighting to keep his composure, but ultimately failing.
“i … i had no … idea how much i needed that. how much i needed you.”
a single tear rolled down his cheek, succeeded by another … and another. he was choking the words out.
“i … know we haven’t known each other that long, but … do you … feel it, too?”
there was desperation in his voice, in his eyes.
it was as if he were asking for a miracle.
tears were already clouding your vision. turning in your seat, you gently wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace, which he quickly returned.
“i feel it too, stanley.” you murmured, biting back a voice crack as you felt the tears falling. you just squint your eyes shut. he held onto you even tighter, as if he was afraid that you would disappear.
“hah … so i’m not crazy …” he laughed weakly, sniffling and pulling his head back to look at you. his thumbs gently wiped the tears from your face. his touch was so delicate … almost reverent. “i knew there was something between us.”
you sighed quietly as he held your face, smiling upon hearing his laugh.
your next words escaped your mouth before you could process it.
“i love you.”
stanley’s eyes went wide.
“you … what?”
“i … i lov—”
you didn’t get the chance to repeat yourself, as he had leaned in and pressed his lips against your own.
stunned at first, you gradually returned the kiss, letting your eyelids shut on their own. it was sweet and sincere, as if it held the meaning of a thousand words.
after a moment, he pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed.
“i love you, too.”
he shifted closer to you, moving his head to rest on your shoulder as he pulled you into another hug.
“please … no matter what happens, please promise me you won’t ever forget about me.”
“oh, stan … don’t say that. i couldn’t forget you, even if i tried.”
his strong arms tightened around you even further. you could feel his heartbeat through the rise and fall of his chest, and it lulled you into a trance.
“... my love. mine.”
he kept mumbling vaguely into your shoulder, refusing to let go of you. you smiled to yourself, bringing your hand up to his ponytail and undoing the hairtie so that his mullet fell loose.
and for the next half hour, you ran your fingers through his hair while he clung to you like a magnet.
end
[ part five ]
author's note:
i said goodbye to my sanity in the middle of writing this chapter
also THANK YOU FOR THE LOVE ?!?!? the first three parts collectively have over 750 notes DANGGG
part five is happening. >:) lmk if you want in on the taglist
stanford pines x reader fluff // based off of this headcanon post.
˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚
you could tell that something was off as soon as you walked into the house.
the mystery (s)hack has officially run out of coffee beans ... and there's a grumpy grunkle to show for it.
"uuugh..."
six rough fingers moved to wearily rub the forehead of their owner: a sleep-deprived scientist who'd stayed up late last night working on a project. of course, whether the project was actually worth losing sleep over or not wasn't entirely relevant ... ford just didn't want to go to bed and deal with his thought-filled brain. despite his troubles with bill being behind him, there often are nights where he just can't fight the paranoia.
trudging out into the kitchen, the broad-built man leaned against a countertop with one arm, heaving a low and rumbling sigh.
"well, well. good morning, sunshine." a gruff voice called out from across the room, accompanied by the sound of cereal pouring into a bowl. stanley was ' making breakfast ' for dipper and mabel, who waited eagerly at the table. "didja get enough beauty sleep?"
"i'll answer that question after i have my coffee." ford huffed, eyes still half-shut and darkened with exhaustion. upon hearing those words, stan trailed out an 'uhhhh' and glanced towards the coffee machine.
"about that, sixer ... it's all gone. i was gonna grab another bag the last time i was out, but i got distracted."
if, by being distracted, he meant attempting to shoplift a twelve-pack of pitt cola and getting caught, he was technically telling the truth.
"what."
the corner of ford's left eye twitched. no coffee? how could he have overlooked such a possibility? great ... just great.
after a moment longer of taking in the unfolding scene from the open front door, you decided to speak up.
"uh, everything okay?"
everyone's attention shifted to you. you'd only been staying with the pines family for a few days as a temporary fix for your living situation, but somehow, it was beginning to feel like home. mabel grinned brightly upon seeing you, waving her small hands in the air.
"hiya, cutie !! back from your morning walk? how'd it go?"
you met her honey brown eyes, and a smile crept onto your expression.
"it was lovely, thanks." you made your way into the house, closing the front door behind you and promptly taking a seat beside the smaller twins at the table. the grunkles observed you, following suit and each coming over to fill the remaining empty seats.
"i hope ya like cereal, cause i can't cook for my life!" stan grinned, gave everyone a bowl of cereal, and the feasting began.
mabel scarfed down her bowl, akin to how waddles might eat his own breakfast. dipper and stan both ate slowly, while you were somewhere in the middle. the only odd one out was ford, who hadn't touched his spoon at all. his head was rested against one hand, and his eyes were shut, as if he were deep in thought or (more likely) dozing off. still, he looked like he should at least eat something ...
"ford?" you called from across the table, spoon in hand.
"i- wh- ... huh?"
he stammered, a faint shade of crimson tinting his cheeks as he snapped awake and stared at you like a deer in headlights. stan snickered.
"what's wrong?" your voice was concerned, with an undertone of amusement. it seemed unnatural for him to act so disheveled, considering how your first impression of him was extremely put-together and educated. although, you couldn't say you disliked this side of him.
he cleared his throat. "well, you see, we've ... run out of coffee. during days like these, i rely on the caffeine to keep me awake."
"i see." you crunched on another mouthful of cereal, swallowing with a thoughtful hum. "isn't there a good café somewhere near here?"
at that, ford raised his bushy brows. a café? that's a good point.
"it must be relatively new, because i can't say that i've ever been to such an establishment in town." he mused, stroking his chin stubble as he attempted to recall the various changes that had occurred in gravity falls since he'd returned after being gone for thirty years.
"i could take you, if you like."
"...what?"
and now, all eyes were on you.
blinking innocently, you restated your offer.
"i said, i could take you, if you like. i've been there a few times myself, and they've got a lot of good options."
"gasp !! like a date ??" mabel squealed, only to be elbowed by her twin brother. her comment earned a darker blush from ford and a choke from stan.
"u-um ... i wouldn't necessarily say a da-"
"ahem! i accept your offer. it would be good for me to get out of the house, anyway." ford hurriedly interrupted you, averting his gaze as he straightened his trench coat and adjusted his turtleneck. a stifled squeal of joy could be heard from the kids' end of the table.
and just like that, you found yourself strolling down the sidewalk, side by side with the tired scientist. he had freshened up somewhat, having taken the time to tame his bedhead hair and clean his dusty glasses. even while sleep deprived, he looked handsome in the warmth of the sunlight. catching yourself staring, you quickly averted your gaze to in front of you, focusing on where you were walking. ford had most definitely seen you looking, but chose not to say anything about it.
the silence wasn't uncomfortable, per se, but it certainly was not commonplace for either of you. you've been living on your own for a while now, so you're acquainted with silence, but not the kind shared with another person. on the flip side, ford has slowly been learning to cherish peace and quiet again after getting rid of bill's voice in his head.
upon arriving at the café, the two of you took in the inviting atmosphere, inhaling the scent of brewing coffee and sweet pastries as the little bell hanging from the door jingled to signal your appearance. ford visibly relaxed, already pleased.
"you know what you want?" you questioned with a smile, glancing up to meet his eyes.
"mm, i think i'll have the cold brew with vanilla cream." he replied, the corners of his mouth tugging up in a somewhat shy grin. you swore you could feel butterflies in your stomach.
"alright." making your way up to the cashier, you put in your order for two drinks, pulling out your wallet and selecting the appropriate bills to pay for the both of you. ford was somewhat shocked that you had made the move to pay for his drink, and his bashful smile grew as you found a table to sit down at.
"thank you, that was very generous of you." he adjusted his glasses, sitting across from you and giving you a brief once-over. "i could have covered it, you know."
"ah, don't worry about it." now that you thought about it, this was the first time that you were spending one-on-one time with him, apart from the rest of the family ... was this really a date, like mabel had said? your face began to heat up at the notion, but you quickly distracted yourself by looking down to fidget with the edge of your sleeve.
feeling the need to break the silence, the silver-streaked man shifted in his seat. "so ... tell me about yourself."
he was clearly showing interest in getting to know you, which was flattering, and somewhat endearing. given his quiet demeanor, it was obvious that socialization was not his strong suit. still, you couldn't deny that he had a certain rugged charm about him.
staring out the window, you thought for a moment, then spoke. "for starters, you know that i'm working on moving into a house." there was another pause as you mulled over your next words. "i'm interested in the strange phenomenons here in gravity falls. i was raised in another state, but my family relocated here while i was in high school. that's what got me curious about certain ... abnormalities." you smiled softly, fixing your gaze onto him. "i think unusual things are wonderful."
stanford was practically slack-jawed, his dark brown eyes shining with the wonder of a child in love. any previous hesitation was completely abandoned.
"why, that's what i've dedicated my life purpose to for years!" his wide shoulders leaned over the table, bringing his face closer to your own. "i've been keeping journals-"
he was interrupted by a barista calling out your name across the café. regretfully, you had to tear your attention from his enthusiasm, standing to go collect your drinks from the counter. for some reason, the thudding of your heart was very loud.
returning to your seat, you put ford's cold brew in front of him before taking a swig of your own drink. he carefully picked up the cup, observing it from a few different angles before raising it to his lips. he took a long sip, then made a low, content hum. "yes ... this is exactly what i needed." you could already see the caffeine revitalizing him. "now, where was i? ah, yes! the journals."
the next hour and a half consisted of him infodumping about the journals and all of the wonderful things he's seen and done. he earned quite a few reactions from you, each of which inflated his ego even further. by the end of his rant, he was on an energetic and emotional high.
the two of you were laughing at some corny one-liner he'd thrown in, and ford leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his broad chest as it heaved with deep chuckles.
"you know, i haven't talked with anyone like this in a while, besides stanley and the kids, of course." a warm smile graced his features. "i'm glad that you invited me here. and ..." he trailed off, his eyes narrowing. "... i think you're an interesting person. clearly, we share the same passion."
oh, crap. why was he looking at you like that? why was it hot? you could feel yourself slowly losing your composure. why did your type have to be nerds?
"t-thanks. i think you're interesting, too." you blushed, smiling and feeling giddy.
"we should do this again, yes?"
"i would love to."
end (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
author's note:
expect more ford content from me (he's literally my pookie)
