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The Shack is uncharacteristically quiet. You got so used to having the kids around, wreaking havoc and sowing chaos anywhere they set foot, that now you are almost unnerved by the silence. They ran off an hour ago, yelling excitedly about some adventure they were going on, dragging even Soos and Wendy with them.
Since there are no customers at the moment, you take the liberty to make something for dinner. You know the kids will be starved when they get home, so you prepare a lot. Stan is watching tv, but the smell from the kitchen lures him out.
"Heya there. Whatcha making?" He comes up behind you, his arms circling around your waist. Stan was being more touchy lately, ever since his twin came out of that portal. Even though you have no interest in Ford, Stan is clearly jealous.
You and Ford got quite close in a short time, his nerdy and slightly awkward demeanor reminding you of Dipper. They couldn't deny that they were related even if they wanted to. You two spend a lot of time together, talking, reading, or just being in each other's company. You know what it's like to be a recluse, and you don't want Ford to be alone.
"See for yourself." You lift a bite and Stan takes it.
"Mm, remind me to lock you in the kitchen."
Asshole .
They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Maybe there is some truth to that. When you first made dinner for the kids, it almost wasn't enough. You didn't expect it to turn out so good that everyone would want to eat. It was then that Stan started looking at you with an expression you couldn't read. Well, it didn't take long for you to find out. He made his intentions quite clear.
You knew there was at least a little mutual attraction from the playful banter you two would have, that somewhere along the lines turned into subtle flirting. You never did anything that would warrant suspicion in front of the kids, but the little touches and whispers here and there had the tension rise between you quickly. It was only a matter of time before one of you would break.
Long story short, he did not have too much patience. Ever since then you two were on each other any chance you got. Like now. With the kids out and Ford in the basement, he just can't keep his hands to himself.
"At least let me finish up the food." You lean back into him. Stan brushes the hair from your neck and kisses it, his stubble scratching slightly, making you shiver.
"I don't think I can wait."
"Yeah, I can feel that..." You push back a little, feeling his erection rubbing up against your butt.
Stan sucks in a sharp breath and you chuckle. "How long?" He asks.
"A few minutes." You let out an internal sigh of relief when he backs away. It would've been a shame if the food got burned because you were busy getting dicked down by Stan.
As much as you enjoy what you two have, you can't help but acknowledge he's an asshole sometimes. Okay, all the time. And quite selfish. It makes you feel a little used, if you're honest. He's a knucklehead, and you don't know what would it take for him to talk about his feelings. Maybe he doesn't have any at all.
As you put the food to the side, you get an idea. There's no fixing Stan's selfish habits, but maybe you could influence him to strive for better. You don't really like it, but perhaps doing things by his ways could teach him a lesson. So you decide to play dirty.
Stan's sitting at the table, his patience wearing thinner and thinner as you take your time walking up to him. He can see the mischief in your eyes, and is curious just what you're up to.
You sit on his lap, legs on either side of him, the edge of the table digging a little into your back, but you don't care at the moment, you'll switch locations in a minute anyways. "Hey."
"Hey." Stan smirks. "Took you long enough." His hands slide to your hips, pulling you down and closer, a groan escaping his mouth at the friction.
"Impatient, are we?" You giggle and put your arms around his neck, leaning in so your noses are touching. His eyes are filled with lust, and you feel a little pang in your heart. Stupid, stupid heart. Why do you always fall for the wrong guy?
"We haven't gotten a chance to be alone in a while... I was starting to get crazy." His breath caresses your face. Seems like you weren't the only one affected by the lack of action. You glance down to his lips then back to his eyes, and finally kiss him. He grunts in satisfaction, licking your lower lip to ask for entrance.
You tease him a little, not letting him in. Stan squeezes your hips in response, groaning. You pull away and start to kiss his neck, grazing it with your teeth, making him shiver. You know he's really desperate now, practically vibrating with need.
"C'mon..." Stan urges.
"What's the magic word?" You never heard him say please before, and are curious if he's desperate enough to say it.
"Are you kidding me?" Stan asks incredulously.
Gotcha. "Someone else doesn't have a problem to ask nicely when he wants something." You sure hope he gets who you're talking about.
Stan's eyes darken as you say that, and he turns his head away. "Then maybe you should go and fuck him, if he's so much better." Ouch.
You get up from his lap. "Maybe I will." Playing on his jealousy probably isn't the best idea, but you're feeling frisky today. You wanna see how this ends.
"I bet he lasts nowhere near as long as me." There he goes again, making everything into a competition.
"At least he makes me come." What a big fucking lie. You can see the hurt in his eyes rapidly turn into jealous rage. That comment really hurt his pride. You suspected that he thinks you and Ford are sleeping together, but since he never asked, you never clarified.
You back away as he stands up and walks towards you. Having much longer legs, he catches up to you in a few strides, trapping you against the kitchen wall. "Is that so." Stan grabs your chin and forces you to look at him.
You avoid eye contact, not wanting him to catch on to your game. He doesn't care though, and crashes his lips against yours. The kiss is aggressive, and you like it. You moan into his mouth.
Stan suddenly gets an idea and pulls away. You bite back a groan of disappointment. He grabs you and picks you up with ease. How he's still so strong at this age is beyond you. Stan kisses you again to distract you and starts walking out of the kitchen.
Something flat and cold touches your back, making you yelp. Stan pulls away to undo your pants and you realize where you are. The vending machine. He sets you down and pulls your pants off along with you panties, leaving them dangling on one of your legs. He stays on his knees and spreads your thighs.
Before you can say anything, his head is between your legs, lapping at your wetness. You hope he doesn't realize how much he turns you on right now, seeing him fume with anger. You moan his name, one hand grabbing his hair, placing the other on the vending machine to try and support yourself. Stan's hands are squeezing your thighs, while he furiously licks your folds, occasionally sucking on your clit, earning him a string of whines and moans.
Your climax is approaching rapidly, your hand in his hair is holding on for dear life. He groans, licking even harder. "Ohh, fuck! Stan, I'm comi-" You can't finish the sentence, a low moan ripping from your throat. You want him inside you right now, but he has other plans.
Not giving you a chance to recover, Stan plunges a finger in you, curling it with precision. After all this time you'd be disappointed if he didn't already know all your weak spots. Oversensitive from your orgasm, you let out a whine of protest. Stan just smirks cruelly, standing up to capture your lips. After ravaging your mouth, he lifts one of your legs with his other hand and slips another finger in.
"Is this what you wanted, huh?" He whispers in your ear. He must've realized what you've been playing at. "So fucking wet..." You couldn't have denied it. You are soaked. Practically dripping as he fingers you to another orgasm. "He could never make you come like I do."
You wanted to say something, but your climax wipes any thoughts away, turning your mind into mush. He pulls out his fingers, licking them clean. "Turn around." He commands.
You comply with hazy mind, placing your hands on the vending machine. You hear Stan fumble with his belt and undo his zipper. Ford is on the other side of the wall. True, a few stories below, but you hope he doesn't hear what's going on here. Or maybe you do?
"You're thinking about him, aren't you?" Stan asks, and before you can say anything, he sinks into you.
"Ffffuck..." A curse slips from your mouth. Stan lifts your shirt up, then unclasps your bra, pushing it up so he can get access your breasts. His name falls from your lips like rain as he plays with them, teasing your hardened nipples. Your face is squished against the cold glass, staining it with your tears of pleasure. You're gonna have to clean that off before the kids get home. And mop the floor too.
The snacks are shaking behind the glass, your breath fogging it in as Stan pounds into you. One of his hands find their way down to your clit, rubbing it in circles. You jerk away, way too sensitive from two orgasms already, but he doesn't stop.
"Gonna make you come so much... You'll have nothing to complain about." He rasps in your ear. Not that you had any complaints before, but you could get used to being fucked like this. You just wish he wasn't still fully clothed, wanting to feel his bare chest rubbing against the skin of your back. His other hand brushes your hair away from the back of your neck, and he latches onto it, sucking and biting it above your neckline, not caring if it leaves a mark.
The thought of the others seeing his mark on you pushes you into another release. Stan groans loudly as you clench down around his dick, biting your shoulder to distract himself. You're just glad to be filled by him, your knees buckling from pleasure. Stan grabs you and spins you around, hoisting you up. You instinctively wrap your legs around his hips, eyes rolling back as he enters you again.
The vending machine is rattling with his motions, and you wonder what face would he make if it tore down and fell backward into the stairwell that leads down to Ford's lab. But that thought soon dissipates at your impending fourth release. Stan's thrusts become unfocused, and you know he's close too.
"Ohh, Stan..." You mewl into his ear. He pulls you flush against him, burying his head into your neck. "Come with me..." You plead.
"Fuck!" He curses, his hips stuttering. He let's out a string of moans, which push you over the edge. He thrusts a few more times, then stills as he comes inside you.
Stan pulls out, and you hiss at the loss of contact. He sets you down and you lean your back to the vending machine, slowly sinking to the ground, your legs feeling like jelly, his release dripping down your thighs. Stan leaves you there, and you kind of regret what you did. It was a dick move. But he comes back with a towel in hand and wipes you down without a word.
That's new. Maybe your plan did work. He's never done this before. "Might've gone a bit overboard." He mumbles as he looks over your ruined state. That's as good as a sorry you can get from him.
"It's fine." You say. Neither of you talk for a while. You break the silence, not wanting to leave him in doubt. "... I didn't fuck your brother."
"I know." He breathes.
The kids were taking forever to return, so you and Stan start eating. You both are ravenous after your little escapade. A little later Ford comes up from the basement, probably also hungry. You don't even remember when was the last time you saw him. You don't look at him, fearing he might realize what was going on up here when he sees your reddened face. You made sure not to leave any evidence, but it was hard to cover up all the marks Stan left on you, and you instinctively lift your hand up to hide your neck.
Ford sits down beside Stan and starts eating. He's wearing a really serious expression. You shoot a questioning look at Stan, but he just shrugs. Then Ford speaks, making you and Stan choke on your food.
"You guys do know there are cameras in the house, right?"