Fic: Little Theft [Gravity Falls]
Feb. 7th, 2019 03:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
anysinTime for a little Grevity Falls fic! A dirtybadwrong Dipford, containing morally ambiguous!Ford, underage and tickling. Not super explicit but adult.
"Great Uncle Ford, stop!"
That should be Ford's cue. However, Dipper is laughing and his squirms are only half-hearted, meaning he's still having fun; Ford can proceed. He does so with a grin, taking full advantage of his twelve fingers as he tickles at Dipper's armpits and sides.
"Great Uncle Ford please, I can't!"
Dipper is folding over but he's still not really fighting back, so Ford continues. He drops his hands lower, tickling Dipper's front now, his sharp little ribs and his flat belly. Once, he even drops his hand down to Dipper's thigh, running his fingertips up and down along the bare flesh.
"Great Uncle Ford!"
He returns his hands up all the way to Dipper's armpits, tickling the boy from there until Dipper starts to tear up from the laughter before taking his hands down again. He slips one hand under Dipper's shirt, brushing his fingertips against the bare flesh of his belly while he reaches for his thigh with the other one.
"Great Uncle Ford," Dipper breathes, hiccuping a bit.
Ford brushes his fingertips along the curve of Dipper's inner thigh, marveling at how soft the skin there is. He rests his palm against the firm flesh for a moment, giving it a squeeze before touching it with his fingers only again, dragging them up to the leg of Dipper's shorts. He runs one fingertip along the edge of the thin, grey fabric for the moment before slipping all his fingertips beneath it, rubbing the hot flesh on the inside of the thigh.
"Ford," Dipper whispers, and that is Ford's real cue; he pulls his hands away, stepping away from Dipper as the boy stands there in confusion, bright red in the face and breathing heavily. He keeps his back to Ford, tremors running through his small shoulders and his slender legs.
They both know Dipper is hard in his shorts, doing his best to not give it away.
"We should head back," Ford says, trying to keep the heaviness away from his own voice. He walks up to Dipper, his own groin feeling warm as he reaches out for Dipper's shoulder, resting his palm down on it as he rubs at he bare flesh of the boy's arm with his thumb. "Others will get worried sooon."
Part of Ford wants to let them worry. Fortunately, Dipper is the wiser one out of the two of them.
"Yeah, let's go." Dipper looks up at Ford, smiling at him, but he is quick to shrug Ford's hand off as he turns away, starting to head towards the Shack.
"Great Uncle Ford, stop!"
That should be Ford's cue. However, Dipper is laughing and his squirms are only half-hearted, meaning he's still having fun; Ford can proceed. He does so with a grin, taking full advantage of his twelve fingers as he tickles at Dipper's armpits and sides.
"Great Uncle Ford please, I can't!"
Dipper is folding over but he's still not really fighting back, so Ford continues. He drops his hands lower, tickling Dipper's front now, his sharp little ribs and his flat belly. Once, he even drops his hand down to Dipper's thigh, running his fingertips up and down along the bare flesh.
"Great Uncle Ford!"
He returns his hands up all the way to Dipper's armpits, tickling the boy from there until Dipper starts to tear up from the laughter before taking his hands down again. He slips one hand under Dipper's shirt, brushing his fingertips against the bare flesh of his belly while he reaches for his thigh with the other one.
"Great Uncle Ford," Dipper breathes, hiccuping a bit.
Ford brushes his fingertips along the curve of Dipper's inner thigh, marveling at how soft the skin there is. He rests his palm against the firm flesh for a moment, giving it a squeeze before touching it with his fingers only again, dragging them up to the leg of Dipper's shorts. He runs one fingertip along the edge of the thin, grey fabric for the moment before slipping all his fingertips beneath it, rubbing the hot flesh on the inside of the thigh.
"Ford," Dipper whispers, and that is Ford's real cue; he pulls his hands away, stepping away from Dipper as the boy stands there in confusion, bright red in the face and breathing heavily. He keeps his back to Ford, tremors running through his small shoulders and his slender legs.
They both know Dipper is hard in his shorts, doing his best to not give it away.
"We should head back," Ford says, trying to keep the heaviness away from his own voice. He walks up to Dipper, his own groin feeling warm as he reaches out for Dipper's shoulder, resting his palm down on it as he rubs at he bare flesh of the boy's arm with his thumb. "Others will get worried sooon."
Part of Ford wants to let them worry. Fortunately, Dipper is the wiser one out of the two of them.
"Yeah, let's go." Dipper looks up at Ford, smiling at him, but he is quick to shrug Ford's hand off as he turns away, starting to head towards the Shack.
