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You sat on the couch as the party grew more lively. You were dancing with Mabel when you both decided you needed a breather. You watched her start a conversation with two other girls, naturally creating a connection.
You let out a small sigh, relaxing into the cushions as you take a sip of your drink. You were surprised when you heard Stan was going to throw a party at the shack, that old grouch didn’t seem like the type to host that sort of crowd. However, seeing the way Mabel beamed with excitement, going on and on about a chance to make friends, you understood why Stan caved so quickly – even if he says it’s just for the money.
Your head bopped to the music as you scanned the room. Wendy and her friends were sitting together lost in conversation, the dance floor was scattered with patrons, Soos kept the party alive as the dj. You hear the back door open close to you, running footsteps following.
“Oh, my gosh, I need your help,” Dipper says in a panic, tugging on your arm.
“Whoa whoa, easy, kiddo. What’s the matter?” you ask as you scoot to the edge of your seat, giving him your full attention.
“I have this whole plan to talk to Wendy which Mabel thinks is stupid — it’s not stupid, it’s very well thought out — and I can’t let Stan know we left the ticket table so can you please help me distract Grunkle Stan?”
He speaks so fast you have to really focus to make sure you hear him correctly. You’d do anything for the twins, even filling Dipper’s little delusional fantasy that he has a shot with Wendy. The fact he needed your help with his great uncle was just a bonus.
“Dipper, I will do everything in my power to make sure your plan works,” you tell him, holding onto his shoulders. He smiles so wide, hands coming up to hold his temples as he stutters.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best, I owe you big time,” he exclaims as he gives you a tight hug. You give the rim of his hat a little shake, mumbling a small, “go get ‘em, tiger” before he runs off. You down the rest of your drink, tossing your cup in the trash before going up to Stan by the drinks table.
“Whoa there, sweetie. Pretty sure it’s illegal to look that good without a license in these parts,” he flirts as you approach.
“Well, shoot,” you feign, “I didn't know that.” You bat your lashes up at him as you take his fez off, placing it on your head. “And now I'm stealing. What ever shall you do with me?”
Stan smiles and places his cup on the table. “I can think of a few things,” he mumbles in your ear.
“Ah ah,” you gently push him away. “We talked about this. Not where the kids can see.”
“C’mon, doll, they’re not payin’ attention,” he tries again, attempting to weasel his way into your neck.
“Not in front of the kids, Stan,” you say, voice low and demanding. He goes rigid at your change in demeanor. “I'll be in the office waiting for what the boss has to say about my theft and license charges.”
You’re out of his hold in an instant, taking prideful strides across the floor to the ‘employees only’ section of the shack while your heels click against the floor. You catch Dipper's eye, giving him a wink so he can focus on his plan. You hear Stan’s heavy footsteps trailing behind you.
As you enter the office, Stan is quick to shut and lock the door before he’s grabbing at you. He grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your mouth to his so he can kiss you, finally away from the kids.
He grabs the fez by the tassel, shoving it to the ground. His fingers expand along your scalp, seeing just how much hair he can fit between his knuckles before gently tugging. You kissed him with such fervor, each taste leaving you craving more.
“You tryna kill me wearin’ a dress like that, huh?” he grunts, bringing a hand to grip the material at your hip. You moan at his possessive touch. “Give me a heart attack in front of my poor niece and nephew?”
“What about you, huh?” you taunt back. “An old man like you with your tits out like that?” You bring your hand to rake through the rough hair at his chest, overexposed by his lowly buttoned shirt. “Tryna get me hot and bothered like a filthy little whore in front of my adoptive niece and nephew, hm?”
Stan grips your shoulders, pushing you to the side to hold you against the wall. The way you matched his energy, equally teasing and berating him as he does to you, gets Stan so fucking hard. He loved a woman that knew how to play dirty.
“You can talk all you want, babydoll. I bet you’re sooo fuckin’ wet with the way you’ve been eye fucking me all night.”
He’s attacking your mouth again, his kisses so possessive and overpowering it leaves you restless. He shoves you deeper into the wall as he feels you pushing against him, nudging his knee between yours.
“In fact,” he continues, “I bet I don’t even need’a do a damn thing. Go on, pretty girl. Know you wanna feel good.”
You can’t help the way your hips roll against his thigh. You push your head back into the wall with a gentle whine. Stan moves himself down to your neck, sloppily kissing the thin skin.
“Stan, not—“
“Not where the kids can see, I know. I fucking know, dolly. Have some faith in me, fuck,” he grumbles. You moan again, hips finding a gentle rhythm grinding against Stan’s thigh.
“Says you! You’re the one who — ahh — wants everyone to know — ohhh my god — to know I’m taken,” you fumble through kiss swollen lips. Stan chuckles against you, the sound so low and menacing.
“And you’re the one who won’t go public with me,” he teases. Now you’re getting frustrated, fighting against his weight again.
“For the last time, it’s—“
“ I know ,” he huffs, fully over the way you’re fighting him. “Now stop talking about the goddamn kids so I can worship you.”
You bring your hands up to the soft fabric of his shirt, tightly gripping it between your shaky fingers as you untuck it from his pants. The material of your tight dress starts to ride up your plush thighs as you continue to grind your hot cunt on him. Stan is content in the space between your neck and shoulder, the smell of his cheap cologne stuffing your nose full and making you dizzy.
Truth be told, you loved when he’d mark you up. Seeing the way your blood is pulled to the top layer of skin in a gentle choker around the base of your neck makes your stomach tighten any time you see it. You enjoyed it privately as much as you did publicly.
Stan grips your wrists, ripping them away from his shirt and pinning them to the wall. You try to push against him, attempting to put up a little fight knowing that you both loved to battle over authority. His large hands swallow up your little wrists, twinges of pain from his force sending its way down to your heat. Your hips continue to buck up, rubbing your aching clit on his slacks.
“What a good fuckin’ girl you are,” Stan mumbles against your skin, gently kissing around your flushed face. “Gettin’ that pussy nice and wet for me, huh? You gonna make yourself come, sugar?”
You whine, pushing your chest against his and shoving your hips down a touch more. Any thoughts left in your poor, pretty head started to float away, slowly becoming a whimpering mess underneath Stan’s large frame.
“Y’know, I shouldn’t be so nice,” he continues, his touch feather-light but anchoring at the same time. “Lookin’ like that in front of all those fuckin’ people? Tryna make me jealous, huh? Want me to get in a fuckin’ fight for you?”
Your brain is already so empty that you can’t form words. All you can do is writhe and moan and thrust, completely intoxicated.
Stan removes one of his hands from your wrist, now bringing it to gently swallow up the expanse of your throat, thumb and forefinger holding your jaw and gently squishing your cheeks. Your hand, now free from its shackle, holds onto his thick arm.
“Asked you a question, sweetie,” he warns, head shifting down ever so slightly to cast the most intimidating shadows across his face. “You tryna make me jealous, pretty baby?”
You shake your head to the best of your ability, eyebrows tilting up as you look into his darkening eyes. Stan cocks one of his brows as he waits for your answer.
“I would never,” you mutter. Stan’s laugh rumbles through his chest, rolling across the air into you.
“You know that’s not true, doll.”
“Swear,” you cry. “I swear. Dressed up for you, honey. S-so you could see me like this.”
Stan pushed your head a little deeper against the wall, putting a beautiful pressure on your throat. A lopsided smile pulls at his lips, eyes shutting as he gives your forehead a kiss.
“Thaaaat’s my girl,” he drawls, low and rumbling and hungry. You can’t help the way your eyes flutter closed.
Stan releases his hold on your neck, bringing his large hand to clutch onto your hip. He gripped you so tightly you hoped he’d leave pretty, purple bruises for you to discover during a morning shower. He uses his hold on you to help you grind a bit faster on him.
“What’s’a matter?” he taunts. “Need me to help?”
The added speed and pressure on your cunt leaves your jaw dropped. Your abs and thighs almost hurt with the way they’re contracting, begging for a sweet release. You can feel a growing wet patch spilling from your soiled panties onto his pants, all the more motivation to make a bigger mess.
“Uh-huh,” you huff, “can’t — hah — can’t come without you, my love.”
“Yeaaahhh, that’s what I like to hear, baby. Tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”
And he absolutely would do anything for you. No law was too strict to be held over your desires. If you wanted him to kill someone, he’d do it in a heartbeat. He’d destroy the sun if it was bothering you.
“Talk to me,” you whine. “Please, please.”
Stan chuckles lowly, a smug but proud look adorning his strong face. His glasses have shifted a little farther down the bridge of his nose. He leans down and gives you a feather-soft kiss.
“Need me to talk you through it, honey?” he asks, his voice so deep and grumbly. A shudder runs down your spine.
“Yes, please.”
“Hmm, aren’t you a sweetheart? Using your manners like that.”
God, it was so fucking demeaning the way he talked to you but, fuck, if it didn’t get you going. At this point, Stan knew you were out of the ring, no longer able to put up a fight. On a night like tonight, this is exactly where he wants you to end up; picking a fight and losing.
Stan gives you another quick peck on the lips before shifting to rest his forehead on the wall beside you. His hot breath fans down the side of your neck, mouth so close to your ear so that none of his words get lost. He also gets to hear all those sweet, sweet moans of yours this way.
“Can feel how wet you are, baby,” he says. Your eyes shut, almost as if you could hear him better that way. “Bet you’re dripping for me. ‘N all over my good pants.”
“Fuck, Stan,” you whimper, rubbing your clit on him as fast as humanly possible. You needed to come so bad it almost hurt.
“C’mon, darlin’. Sooner you come, sooner I can fuck you.”
Your orgasm is so fucking close but so fucking far. God, Stan is pushing all the right buttons.
“Mm, fuck, you sound so pretty when you moan for me. Gets me so fuckin’ hard.”
You swear you can see stars behind your closed eyes.
“Want you to come, baby. I’ll eat your pussy when you come.”
“ Fffuck ~” you huff, “promise?”
“ ‘Course, sweetie. Anything for you.”
Your free hand wraps around Stan’s shoulder, pulling him as close as you can. You’re whining and wailing and nearly fucking crying as you finally come. He keeps moving your hips with his tight hold, pushing you through your orgasm and spasming muscles. Tears well in the corners of your eyes at the pleasure
“Therrreee ya go, honey. Fuck, you’re so pretty when you make yourself come.”
You’re gripping him like a vice as your high subsides. Stan lets go of your wrist to wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you tightly to his body. He peppers kisses all around your face as you catch your breath. He removes his hand from your hip to now cradle your heavy head.
“Ya still with me, kid?” he asks with a smirk in his tone.
“Yeah,” you huff out, leaning your forehead on Stan’s shoulder. “Yeah, fuck.”
He chuckles again, always so fucking smug after he gets you horny and desperate like that. The both of you know this is just the beginning. There’s no way in hell he’d let you walk back out there dressed like that without making sure every lame, low-life at this party knows you’re off the market. Well, as much as your demanding ass would let him.
For the sake of the twins , you’d say, unsure how they’d handle their grunkle in a relationship with someone so much younger than him. He loves his niece and nephew but, fuck , if that sentence didn’t piss him off sometimes.
You lean back, Stan loosens his grip to let you rest your head and shoulders against the wall. He ghosts over your hips, fingertips just barely reaching around to feel your ass. You look up at him through hooded eyes and Stan can’t deny the jolt in his pants at the sweet blush that fans across your cheeks.
“What’s that look for, babydoll?” he questions, the slightest lift in his eyebrows asserting his authority.
“You promised me something, babydoll ,” you tell him, your attitude shocking him for a moment. You continue to watch as he decides what to do about this outburst. You tilt your head to the side, slightly cocking an eyebrow as you wait for his response.
“Is that any way to ask for what you want?” he pushes back, looming over you as he rests a hand against the wall.
“You know me better than to promise me shit and then not do it. I’ll walk out of this room right now, Stan.”
He knew you would. You never leave a threat empty, especially because the both of you loved this silly little game.
“Ya haven’t even given me a chance, baby,” he tries to plead, the hand on your ass giving a persuasive squeeze.
“Stan,” you warn, pushing yourself up a bit.
“What? Ya want me to fuckin’ beg?”
Your chest flutters when he suggests that and Stan definitely doesn’t miss the way your pupils dilate. He knew he’d get you with that, the smirk on his smug ass face saying everything. You pretend to be persuaded, the tension and dramatics making Stan’s cock unbearably hard behind his zipper.
“Would be a nice start,” you tell him.
Stan chuckles to himself, rubbing a hand down his jaw. He looks at you with amusement before bringing his hand down to your other hip. He holds your stare as he drops to one knee, keeping his strong nose an inch from your waist.
“C’monnnn,” he hums. “Ya got an old man on his knees, sugar. This what turns you on?”
He pulls one of your thighs up to rest on his shoulder, lips gently kissing the exposed skin. You don’t miss how his eyelids flutter slightly as your fingertips slither through his hair.
“Only when it’s you,” you flirt, ruffling up the gray strands in your grasp.
Fuck, Stan didn’t think he could get any harder. He’s slowly starting to regret giving you the time after your orgasm to recover. One thing Stan has learned about you is you always bounce back with a fucking vengeance.
He sloppily kisses around the waistband of your panties, nose brushing just under your bellybutton. His glasses shift around from the way he can’t stop rubbing his face on you.
“Y’wanna come again, don’tcha, sweetie?” he tempts, hands sliding up and down your legs. You bring your hand down to softly hold his cheek.
“I ever tell you how handsome you look like this?” you say, ignoring his attempt to sweet talk you. It takes him off guard for a second but he brushes it off with a cocky look.
“Heh, you should see what I look like when I’m givin’ it to ya.”
“Think about all the guys out there that have been fantasizing about being in your position. Imagine the jealousy as they watched me walk away with you — the big man of the party.”
You and Stan were one in the same — he loved praise as much as you did. He thinks it’s so hot when you put him in his place. He’s never met his match, never met someone who understood his game and played it.
Until he met you .
“Why don’t you show me why I chose you over them, Stanley ~”
He chuckles gruffly, spurts of laughter huffed out against your thigh. The way you say his name sends any blood in his brain straight to his aching cock. He’s dizzy as he gently shakes his head and says, “You better watch yourself, young lady. Can’t get comfortable sayin’ that shit.”
You softly grind yourself against his face, a muffled moan humming into your body. His head is so loose on his shoulders as he bobs it around, purposefully brushing his nose against your clit.
“I asked you to show me why I chose you,” you remind him.
Stan doesn’t think twice when he starts splaying sloppy kisses all over your clothed cunt. Your hand is back in his hair, thick strands dancing between your knuckles as he moves.
“I’ll do anything you want, honey,” he mumbles. “You’ll let me eat your pussy, won’t you?” He begins kissing around your thighs and hips, leaving an occasional hickey along the way. “Yeahhh, you will, huh? You’ll let me make you feel good? Sit’cha on my desk and make you come again, hmm?”
His words burn a hole deep in your stomach. Your resolve is slowly crumbling again. You gotta ride out this power high just a little longer.
“You’re missing something.”
Again, he laughs against you, the vibrations rumbling in your heat. He locks eyes with you as he says, “You’re really enjoyin’ this, huh?”
“D’you wanna eat my pussy or not?”
“Okay, okay,” he sighs, planting another kiss on your hip bone. “Please.”
“You can do better than that, Stan.”
He rolls his eyes, never being one for manners. When it comes to sex, he loves giving and he loves taking. Making him beg is new to him still and he hates losing control. For you, though, he would do absolutely anything, no matter how fucking impatient you make him.
“Please, baby. Please lemme make you feel good. Wanna taste you, wanna make you come again.”
You smile lovingly down at him, removing your leg from his shoulder so you can hold his jaw. You can’t help the sense of pride as you take in his dark eyes and flushed cheeks.
“G’head, get yourself comfortable,” you tell him, jutting your chin in the direction of his desk.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replies playfully, his face so excited to get what he wants. He grips your hips a little tighter, using the leverage to pull himself back up to his feet. He grunts, the act proving harder in his older age. It’s just another reminder of why this is so hot – you have a man twice, nearly three times your age on his knees asking, just about begging , to eat you out. He gives you an overexaggerated kiss, laying heavy on the “ mmmmwaaahh .”
You watch as Stan confidently walks around his desk. The hem of his shirt is haphazardly pulled out of his pants, gold chain and medallion resting comfortably amidst his exposed chest. Your heart jumps when he begins to undo his belt, the sound of the clanking metal makes you swallow thickly. Stan undoes his pants, relieving some of the pressure in his throbbing cock. He throws himself into his chair with a relaxed sigh, beginning to unbutton the cuffs around his wrists. You’re almost hypnotized, drunkenly staring as Stan rolls up his sleeves, his sturdy arms getting exposed inch by inch while you slowly slide your panties down your legs.
Stan’s intense gaze follows your bunched panties on the ground all the way up your body, a prideful smirk on his face. He adjusts his glasses before patting the dark wood of his desk.
“Ready for ya.”
You recreate his path, taking gentle steps around the desk and standing in front of the older man. He looks so complacent as he sits up a bit, running his hot hands up and down your waist. He pushes your dress up even more, making sure the tight fabric stays out of his way.
He guides you to sit, rolling his chair forward to be as close as he can. He glides his hands down to grip above your knees, pushing to open you nice and wide for him. You lower yourself to your back, ankles moving to cross behind Stan’s neck. He possessively leans down and spits onto your cunt, using one of his thumbs to rub it around. Your eyes fall shut and you moan at the feeling of him on your bare pussy.
“Been wantin’ to get you on my desk for so long,” he admits before getting to work.
He’s agonizingly slow, taking his sweet, sweet time dancing his tongue through your folds and up around your clit. You push the back of your head harder against the wood beneath you, hands reaching down to lay on top of his.
Stan is so hot and sloppy when he eats you out, shaking his head around and sucking on you while groaning like he’s eating a meal for the gods. He gets so fucking hard feeling how you twitch and tense underneath his hold. Being surrounded by your decadent scent makes him ache .
Your own hands wander around your body, skimming around your stomach and across your collarbones. You pause at your tits, squeezing the masses trying to make it feel half as good as when Stan does it.
He looks up and catches you, heavy chest fluttering while he watches you feel yourself up. He wraps his lips around your clit and hums, the vibrations causing a grunt to get caught in your throat.
“So pretty like this,” he mutters, mostly to himself, placing his hands closer to your cunt and spreading you open.
You whine, desperate for another orgasm. If he’s gonna take his time, you need more than just him licking your pussy.
“More. Need more, please, Stan,” you ask, fingers moving back to nest in his hair. He smirks against you, knowingly glancing up over the rim of his frames.
“More, huh?” he teases, giving a few more heavy pets of his tongue. “Need my fingers and my tongue, hm? ‘S that it? Needy little thing.”
You nod, feeling the way his head moves in your hand as he slurps up your cunt. Stan casually slides a digit between your folds, tongue focused on your clit. He carefully watches the way you stretch your neck at the feeling.
“Heh, look how easily you took my finger, doll,” he teases, leaving his mouth against your sopping cunt. “Bet I could give you another jusssttt liiike…that.”
You groan as he stuffs another thick digit in you, earning a conniving chuckle from Stan as he licks at your clit. The pressure filling your pussy is so yummy, getting you lightheaded and stealing the air from your lungs.
“Come on, sweet thing. Need you t’come so I can fuck you,” Stan rumbles. “ Fuck , I’m so hard for you it hurts.”
Hearing him admit that makes your eyelids flutter. It’s so fucking hot listening to Stan tell you how much he needs you.
“God, baby, ‘m so close,” you whine, silently grateful for the party muffling the sounds of the two of you in his office.
“That’s it, sugar. I’ll put my dick in you as soon as you fuckin’ come.”
His fingers and tongue pick up the pace, filling the dim space with the sounds of your messy cunt. He pulls his sturdy fingers out, leaving just the tips in you as he spits on your pussy. You’re drooling down his knuckles, leaving his rough hand a soaking mess as you suck him in.
“Right there, right there! Fucking…S-Stan…I’m…holy shit~”
Your thoughts don’t have time to connect together before your trembling thighs close around Stan’s head. He laughs triumphantly as he soaks up your orgasm, loudly slurping and suckling your lips as if he were drinking from the fountain of life. Guttural groans rupture in your throat, leaving a gentle burn that feels so fucking good.
“That’s my greedy girl, fuck~”
He’s quickly prying his body from yours, standing tall and looming over you. Stan pushes his pants and boxers down to his knees, not wasting a second more to stuff the head of his fat cock in you. You whine, legs closing together from the sensitivity. Stan grunts, hands and fingers digging into your aching thighs, prying them apart to make more room for himself.
“ Ohhh no, darlin’ , don’t shy away now.”
You’re dizzy, everything happening so fast you don’t have time to make sense of the feelings vibrating through you. The constant stimulation has your pussy numb and swollen. The only thing you can feel is Stan, not that you have a choice.
You’re at his mercy, sweaty body jerking on the hard wood of his desk while he holds you apart. In the split second your eyes aren’t crossed, you catch a glimpse at Stan’s face.
You’ve never seen him so… primal . His eyes are darker than normal and a deep, irritated scowl is gnawing at his mouth. He is so utterly frustrated with your behavior.
This isn’t even about helping Dipper anymore.
This is a fucking punishment.
Your eyes widen slightly as your full, drooling lips part. A satisfied smirk etches into Stan’s cheek. He slows his thrusts, feeling the way your body finally relaxes around him.
“Aaahh,” he sighs, “ that is the look I’ve been waiting for.”
Another slow thrust, filling you to the brim. There is nothing you can do but take it.
“You finally get it, baby?” Stan asks, keeping his unrelenting gaze on your small figure.
You lazily nod, reaching a trembling hand out to the meat of his belly. He’s not good at hiding the grunt in his throat when you make contact.
“Yeah?” he taunts. “ Atta girl ~”
Fuck, you’re dizzy.
Stan stops for a second, filling you to the hilt. Your chest is heaving, trying to regain some oxygen but all you feel is the pressure of him .
He grabs your fragile hand, giving your palm a kiss. Your fingertips take the liberty to stroke his skin. He tugs you up a bit, holding onto your back as he leans down. Your hand slips down to the base of his neck, tiny digits pressing into the warm flesh.
Stan’s mouth is next to your ear as he hums, “Turn around for me, little baby. Need’a take you from behind.”
You’re empty in seconds; lungs, heat, cunt . A crisp slap to your thigh sobers you up quickly as you let out a little yip. Stan’s pushing your legs over, impatient and unwilling to wait for you.
“ Now , sugar.”
One of his hands nearly takes up the expanse of your ass, experienced fingers stretching from your outer thigh all the way to the curve of your cheek. He squeezes, jaw gently dropping as he parts you enough to see your soaking entrance. Stan huffs, a delicious buzz settling in his stomach while his dick throbs. He slides the head in again, pushing out any air left in your body and replacing it with his cock.
“ Thaaat’s it, darlin’ ” he coaxes, beginning to build a relentless pace behind you. “Fuckin’ take it~”
You’re whining and mewling, body being thrashed around and jerking with pleasure. You reach back with blind fingers, desperately gripping at any part of Stan your touch can find. You’re unsure if you’re trying to push him away or pull him closer, if you need him to slow down or go harder .
You don’t know .
He grips your elbow, tugging your body up as you lean your head back against his shoulder. He’s grunting in your ear, hot breath and sweat kissing your own overheated skin. Stan pulls your arms back, leaving enough room for his thick forearm to hook and hold your limbs behind you.
He is so unbearably deep inside your pussy you aren’t sure where your body ends and Stan’s begins. Your chest is pushed out, tits bouncing heavily with each thrust.
“Don’t you ever…fucking… pull something like this again, d’you understand me?” he grumbles, accentuating his aggression through his forceful hips.
“Yes~” you barely whisper, completely forgetting how to form words.
Stan jerks you back with a dissatisfied grunt, speeding up as his orgasm approaches.
“Didn’t fucking hear you , sweetie~”
You whimper, tears finally spilling from your glossy eyes as you begin to sob. You’re looking up and tilting your head in ungodly positions just to catch a glimpse at Stan. Your weighted head nods, mouth finally opening and taking a deep, deep inhale.
“ Yeeessss~ ” you cry. “Yes, sir, I understand.”
“Unngh~ yeah? Yeah’re you fuckin’ sorry ?”
Stan feels the way you finally slump in his grasp, relinquishing all the control to him. God, he’s losing his fucking mind now, shoving his cock so deeply into you he almost fears he’ll split you in half. Let alone the way you’re wailing and shaking has him so goddamn hard.
“ F-fuuuck~ mhm. S-...so sorry. I’ll be good. I’ll be soooo good ~”
“Oh ho,” he huffs gruffly. “I bet you will be.” He brings his free hand to your clit. “How ‘bout you start by comin’ for me one more time. ‘N then, I’m gonna claim this pretty pussy. ‘N you’re gonna take it ‘cus you’re soooo good .”
God, the way he’s pounding into you and taunting you while rubbing your clit has you on the fucking edge.
“Yeah, that’s it. I can feel you, baby,” Stan groans.
His rhythm starts to falter. He’s just as close as you are.
“Such a good girl, huh?”
Oh, fuck. Oh, God. He’s gonna say it.
“Mmm, yeah, you are.”
Please, please, please.
“ My good girl~ ”
He barely even has time to finish the praise before you’re clamping down on his dick and coming. You’re jolting in Stan’s tight hold, blood rushing to your ears as pleasure overtakes your senses. You hear a jumble of profanities behind you as he shoots his cum in your greedy cunt.
You’re both panting and twitching. Stan moves his hand from your clit to wrap around your stomach, letting go of your arms to prop himself up against his desk. Your head dangles on your shoulders while Stan kisses your sweaty skin.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he softly questions before pulling you in a little closer.
You shake your head with a quiet hum. Stan sighs before letting the silence overtake the office space.
“Sounds like the party ended,” you mention.
“Mm, you’re right,” he agrees. “Guess we’re gonna have to get back down there. Deep breath, sugar.”
Stan steadies himself by holding your hips, being careful and cautious as he pulls out of you. You wince before turning and leaning against his desk. You lazily watch as he tucks himself back in his pants, catching your gaze as he finishes. He plants a loving kiss on your lips before picking up your panties, holding them out to help you step into them. He pulls them up and then fixes the hem of your dress after.
Stan gives your hips a gentle squeeze once finished before bringing a hand to hold your face. You lean into his touch, letting his calloused thumb wipe away any tears or smeared makeup under your eyes. He gives a satisfied grin when finished, kissing you again before you both leave his office.
All the other patrons have left, Soos continuing the music for Mabel and her newfound friends. Wendy sits on the couch you occupied before your distraction mission as Dipper enters the shack. You watch as his twin enthusiastically introduces him to her friends, softly smiling at the interaction.
Glancing around, you find Stan counting his profits from the night. You realize how homey it is here, not just with Stan but with the twins, too. Even Soos and Wendy have made their respectful places in the Pines family.
“Me and Stan are dating!” you blurt out.
Everyone’s eyes turn to you. Soos even turns the music down while your sentence processes. Mabel and Soos both cheer and whoop while Wendy and Dipper groan.
“I knew it!” Mabel shouted
“Haha, pay up, dudes!”
Wendy and Dipper slap a few dollar bills into their other half’s hand, eyes rolling and exasperated.
“You guys had a bet?!” you shout.
“Oh, please,” Mabel shakes her head as if this were common knowledge, “it was so obvious.”
You blush, completely at a loss for words when Stan comes up behind you and slings an arm around your shoulders.
“Good to know Mabel and Soos have faith that this old man can still pick up beautiful ladies,” he flirts, planting an exaggerated kiss on your cheek. The kids wretch in protest of your public affection while you giggle.
You’d always tired to find a place where you belong, not needing to change anything about yourself for everyone to like you. It took some time, but you found it in the Pines.
You found home.