Comfortable Silence - [Stanford Pines x Reader]

Chapter 2

  12:25 am, Wednesday, June 30, 1965

Y/N's P.O.V.

"Y/N! Y/N!" I am shaken awake by a boy. I'm startled, but then realize it's just Stan. "Hey, Stan." I realized I was in Ford's bed. I had fallen asleep on the couch in the living room after watching the television with the twins. I climbed out of bed, blurry eyed. "Hey, where are my glasses?" Stan handed me my small wire lenses. "I took them off of you, 'cause you might break 'em while you sleep." I smile at him and slide them up my nose. "Thanks, Stan. Where is Ford?" Stan handed you a shirt and pants. "Here, put these on, your clothes are dirty. Ford is downstairs making breakfast. Come down when you're done." Stan ran out of the room, and the door slammed behind him. I look down, unfold the shirt and realized it was Ford's. It was blue with constellations on it. The pants were Ford's, too. I put them on and they were a bit big, but it worked. I combed my hands though my hair and figured it was okay.

I opened the door and walked down the stairs. "Ford? Stan? Mrs. Pines?" I heard commotion in the kitchen and shuffled in to see Ford with a mixing bowl, reading an ingredients list. "Um, now we need flour." Stanley stretched up to the top cupboards while standing on the counter. He grabbed the flour bag and dropped it down to Ford. Ford measured out the flour and dumped it in the bowl. "Now we need-" Ford finally saw you and hopped off of his footstool. "Hey Y/N!" I smiled and wiped a bit of flour off his cheek. "Hey Ford!" Stan made and 'ooh' sound and Ford shuffled his feet, pink. "So what are you doing?" I asked him.

Ford rubbed the back of his neck. " I thought I would make you pancakes." I giggled. Stan jumped down. "We thought we would make you pancakes." Stan put his arm around his twin. Ford fidgeted with his hands. "Can I help?" I questioned. Ford gasped. "No! You can't, you're a guest! I want to make it for you!" I was a bit taken aback, but it was fine. "Okay. Can I watch?" Stan got back on the counter with the help of Ford. "Sure." I sat at the table and watched them struggle to get all the ingredients from the cupboard.

Eventually, they got all of the ingredients in and mixed them. By the time they mixed it thoroughly, Ford and Stan were covered in batter. I giggled, they both laughed. I got them a towel and helped them clean, despite Ford's denying he needs any help. He blushed beet red when I cleaned his cheeks of batter. Stan sniggered and Ford had began sweating. "Ford? You okay?" Ford squeaked a yes, followed by a smirk from Stan. "Gee, Ford, it's hot in here, isn't it?" Ford punched Stan in the shoulder. "Shut up!" Stan laughed and turned to me. "Do you know how to work an oven?" Ford put an arm over his chest. "Yeah, we kind forgot we didn't know how to use one..." I put a hand over my mouth to suppress a chuckle. "Yeah, I do. I want to run a restaurant when I grow up! My father told me to be something useful, though...."

I got up and turned on the gas stove to the correct temperature. Stan frowned. "Well it seems like your dad wasn't very nice. More like a big jerk, if you ask me." I thought as I took out a pan. "I guess.." Ford helped me pour some batter onto the pan and I watched as it cooked. Stan huffed and sat in the dining chair, lost in thought. I flipped the pancake when ready, and Stan spoke up. "Um, Y/N?" I took a pancake and put it on a plate. "Yeah?" Stan bit his lip. "Uh, if you don't mind me asking, what was it like having so much money?" This caught me off guard. I poured another pancake.

"I don't know, my father never bought me anything. All he did was give me a place to sleep and feed me. My satchel has everything I own in it." I finished a pancake and started another. Stan's eyes widened. "Oh, i'm really sorry- I'm stupid..." Ford and I whirled around at the same time. Ford growled at Stan's statement. "You're not stupid Stanley! Stop saying that!" Stan sniffed and I got down. "Stan, why do you say you're stupid?" Stan fidgeted with his hands. "Well, Ford is so much smarter than me. And I never get good grades." Y/N sat down with Stan and put a hand on his. Ford flipped the pancake.

"Stan, grades don't define if you're smart or not. Take Ford for example. He's book smart. He can read a book and understand it all, but he couldn't talk his way out of a situation for the life of him." Ford Gasped." Hey! Not true!" I laughed and turned back to Stan. "Very true. But you, Stan, you can talk your way out of anything! You're street smart. You're charismatic, charming, and you've got a exquisite smile. So yeah, you may not have the best grades, but you could talk your way into the Pentagon! And if anyone says you're dumb, then i'll kick their ass! Right, Ford?" Stan flashed a huge toothy grin and Ford screeched, "Y/N! You can't say that! It's a bad word! But, yes.." I got back up on the stool. "Ford, it's the truth. It can't be that bad." Stan got up. "Ford! It's my turn to help pour!" The boys fought over who got to help me as I laughed.

"Oh my! This looks fantastic!" Mrs. Pines and Mr. Pines sat at the dining table with pancakes in front of them. Mrs. Pines seemed ecstatic. "You made these all by yourselves?" I blushed and smiled. Ford and Stan grinned and said 'yes' at the same time. Mrs. Pines took a bite. Her eyes lit up. "These are delicious, and perfectly cooked!" She suddenly squinted her eyes. " I never taught you boys to use the stove... Y/N?" I peeked out from behind her sons, a sheepish smile. "Ye-yes?" She smiled. "These are great! What do you think, Filbrick?" Their father had already finished half of his plate. "Wow, you sure liked those! You're a great cook, Y/N." Their father hummed in agreement. Ford and Stan smiled at me. I felt all those eyes on me and grew hot. "I-um- well, thank you, ma'am, sir... I -um.." Mr. Pines finished his plate and gestured for me to sit across from him. I got up in the chair and their mother gestured for the boys to leave. I watched them go, longing to go with them. "Y/N," said Mrs. Pines, "We want you to live with us." My breath hitched. "Live with you...?" 

1165 words