Gravity Falls Imagine - Tumblr Posts

Stan Pines is the kind of man who can't just let you do anything without turning it into a compliment, like, every move you make, he's gotta say something. And it’s never normal. 

You could be bent over organising some random crap around the Mystery Shack and this man will make it sound like you’re posing for him. Because, yeah, you’re just trying to organize his disaster of a desk, sorting through all his crumpled receipts, ticket stubs, whatever the hell else he’s hoarded.

“Your doin’ god’s work, sugar,” and it’s not even subtle. You look over your shoulder, half expecting him to actually be paying attention to the pile of garbage you're dealing with, but no. He’s leaning against the counter, counting out cash from the register, but all you see is that smirk. The one that makes it very clear his mind ain’t on the paperwork.

“Sorting your trash is god’s work?” you quip back, rolling your eyes, but the way he’s watching you with that smirk of his, makes your cheeks flush a bit.

“You know what I mean,” Stan mutters and now he’s just full-on undressing you with his eyes, the cash in his hands forgotten. “ya ain’t gotta try so hard, baby, because ya could sit on your ass all day and I’d still think ya did somethin’ special.” and your face burns at that, but he sees it, of course, he does. Stan ain’t dumb, despite the act he puts on for tourists. He’s so much more clever than he looks, always has been. The moment he catches that excitement in your eyes, he’s grinning like he’s just won a damn lottery.

“You like that, huh? being told how good you are?”

You smirk back, trying to play it off, but your voice comes out a little breathier than you mean for it to. “all that for organizing receipts? maybe you should give me a raise.” 

Stan just laughs loudly. “yeah, sweetheart, you deserve the whole damn Shack.”

Or when, you’re just sitting at the counter, counting the cash from the register, going about your day and Stan? Well, Stan is “cleaning up,” which basically means he’s wiping the same spot for like five minutes straight while staring at you. You catch him, because he’s being too obvious with it. His eyes keep dipping to your lips every time you bite your pen and it’s distracting as hell.

“You’re too damn cute, y’know that?” he grumbles and it sounds like he’s mad about it, like you’ve done something wrong just by existing.

“You say that every day.” you shoot him a teasing smile, because yeah, this is the daily routine.

And Stan just sighs, smirking like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah, and I’ll keep sayin’ it, sorry, baby, couldn’t shut up about ya if I tried.” 

Then there’s when you’re fixing up one of the old displays, just tightening bolts or whatever and Stan’s “supervising.” Except by “supervising,” I mean, he’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching you work with that wide grin on his face, satisfied and clearly enjoying the view.

“Goddamn, honey,” he mutters. “you makin’ this place look good just by bein’ in it. Hm, maybe I should start charging you for the view.” 

You glance over your shoulder, raising your eyebrow, but smirking, because you know exactly what game he’s playing.

“What? I’d pay whatever ya want, sweetheart. You’re worth every penny.” 

Or you’re just in the kitchen, cutting up vegetables for dinner. The radio’s on low, the sun setting through the windows. Stan’s sitting at the table, pretending to read the newspaper, but every once in a while you catch him glancing over the edge, just watching you move around the kitchen. It’s quiet until he breaks it.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, y’know that?” his voice is so soft, too sincere for Stanley Pines, but when you look over, he’s still got that damn smirk on his face.

You pause, knife in hand, and raise an eyebrow. “For chopping onions?”

He chuckles, leaning back in his chair, arms behind his head. “Nah, sugar, it’s just the way you’re movin’ around in there, i dunno how to explain it, but damn, you look good in my kitchen.”

You snort, shaking your head. “I’m literally cutting onions, Stan.”

“Yeah, still sexy. That’s all I’m sayin’.”

Then there’s the mornings. You’re in the bathroom, brushing your teeth, hair a mess, wearing one of Stan’s old shirts that hangs way too big on you and he's leaning in the doorway, watching you like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. You catch his reflection in the mirror, raising an eyebrow at him, but he just shrugs with this lazy grin, continuing to admire to you.

“Can’t help it, sweetie, you look cute when you’re all domestic.”

you’re just brushing your teeth, but somehow, this man makes it sound like you’re doing the sexiest damn thing in the world

soooo I saw this absolutely adorable art of Stan Pines kissing someone's hand and I loved it so much, I just had to write something about it! hope you’ll like it ♡

Stan’s hand clasps yours, rough and warm, and it makes your pulse quickens at his touch. His grip is firm but careful, like he knows exactly how much pressure to use. He’s not the type to hold back, but there’s something so gentle and delicate about the way he lifts your hand toward his lips. 

You hold your breath, eyes wide, watching in stunned silence. And then, without a word, he presses a soft kiss to your knuckles.

Stan Pines just kissed your hand. 

You blink, heart practically jumping out of your chest, and it takes all your willpower not to squeak out loud. Did Stan Pines, the gruffest, toughest, most no-nonsense man you’ve ever met, just kiss your hand like some old-timey gentleman? What even is happening right now?

“Stan. . .” you manage to breathe out quietly. Inside, though, you’re screaming. You’re torn between laughing nervously and collapsing into a puddle of blushes and giggles at the unexpectedly tender gesture. “What— uh, what’re you doing?”

His eyes flicker up to yours for a second, and you swear there’s a little smirk on his face. He knows, he knows what he’s doing to you. “What? a guy can’t be a little smooth every now and then?” Stan’s just standing there like it’s the most casual thing in the world, like he hasn’t just flipped your entire reality upside down.

You’re frozen, staring at him, your heart pounding in your chest like you’ve just run a marathon, when all you did was stand there while this damn man stole every ounce of composure you’ve ever had with a single kiss to your hand. But he’s still holding your hand, his lips pressed to your knuckles. What the hell are you supposed to do? You’re so lost in your own thoughts. 

Oh god, he kissed your hand. Stanley Pines just kissed your damn hand. You try to say something, anything, but all that comes out is a nervous, shaky laugh.

“What’s the matter, sugar? cat got your tongue?” Stan raises a brow, lips quirking in that smirk he always gets when he knows he’s got the upper hand. He’s still holding you, still brushing his thumb over your knuckles like it’s no big deal, like this isn’t the most intimate thing he’s ever done. And you’re melting. 

“You— you kissed my hand,” your voice trembling and you swear you see his smirk grow just a little wider.

“Yeah, so? It’s called bein’ a gentleman. You kids these days don’t know nothin’ ‘bout that,” he teases, acting all casual, like he didn’t just knock the air right out of your lungs. Actually he’s enjoying this, he’s definitely enjoying watching you lose your mind over something so simple.

“You’re unbelievable,” you murmur, still feeling the heat on your cheeks, your shocked gaze runs over his face.

Stan chuckles softly, finally letting your hand go but leaning in just a bit, his voice dropping to a lower, more serious tone. “Yeah, well, guess I’m just full of surprises, huh?” he pauses. “but between you and me, sweetie, you make it pretty easy to be a gentleman.”

Your breath catches, your stomach doing somersaults. Did he just—? 

Before you can respond, he straightens up, giving you one last wink. “Don’t let it go to your head. See ya around, sweetheart.”

Imagine asking Stanford for another kid during a late night while the triplets are asleep. You were both cuddling on the couch watching a movie and a blanket was draped around you as you remained in your lover's arms. Some cliche sci-fi movie danced across the glass as the volume remained low to not disturb the rest of your family.

Ford couldn't help but notice something was partially off, you stared at the TV screen but weren't focused at all on what it even showed. Actually... now that he thought about it- you seemed pretty distracted all throughout the day; not just now.

"A penny for your thoughts my dear?"

You turned to Stanford with a small giggle, resting your head over his chest with a contented sigh. His heartbeat was the most relaxing sound you'd ever heard, oftentimes falling asleep to it's rhythm or whenever Ford would card his hands through your hair. You swore this man absolutely knew just how to pull miracles with his hands.

"Mhm... just when I thought our three little tykes wouldn't ever fall asleep they're out like a light. Sound familiar?"

Ford raised an eyebrow at you amused while one of his hands absentmindedly rubbed your back. It was like he was legitimately trying to put you to sleep or something, you were just too stubborn to and forced your eyes to stay open and look at him.

"Yeah, I think we did quite well." "We should have another."

It took less than a second for your words to have taken effect. Imagine just how red Ford's face immediately got, the heartbeat you were listening to picking up and thumping wildly in his chest as well to reflect his embarrassment. You didn't know why you suddenly felt so bold tonight, it might've been your brain being half-awake in the moment.

Stanford attempted to reply but all that came out from his lips were incoherent words and random stuttering as his mind struggled to catch up. You shifted your position slightly to start kissing his neck and he couldn't help but laugh, not just because it felt ticklish but also because he was generally just pretty amused.

"Another?! Are you trying to seduce me?"

Ford didn't know how to properly face the fact that you looked absolutely stunning like this, the glow of the TV outlining you like an angel in his arms. He was already in knots from the fact you were in one of his pajama shirts, he was currently wearing the matching bottoms. It was just straight sin that you also looked at him like a sleepy but stupidly sexy siren.

He couldn't help himself at that point, raising a hand to cup your face, eyes swimming in adoration. You leaned into his palm and hummed contentedly.

Both of you had been married for a couple years now, yet it always felt like just yesterday he was at the altar watching you stride down the aisle. Ford didn't know how much of a lucky sonofagun he had to be for you to pick him of all people.

"Look... I know I'm not entirely like I used to be, not as thin or pretty-"

The mention of your name spilling from his lips cut that sentence short, he didn't allow you to finish speaking, much less hold on to that thought.

"Oh my dear, you couldn't be more wrong. You're more beautiful than ever."

By now, Ford had gently guided you back to lay against the couch. His warm hands caressing your body, exploring, admiring like one would for an exquisite art piece. Thing is, to him you weren't even that. It was beneath you.

"Your strong hips and thighs, your smooth luscious curvesㅡ"

To Stanford, you were much more, downright priceless and incomparable to any worldly possession he could think of. He used to think he was married to his research, dedicated to no one and nothing but the pursuit of academic excellence.

Then you walked into his life, and consequently threw that notion upside down and inside out.

"And these!" "Stanford!"

You couldn't help but joyously squeal when he suddenly nuzzled your chest, you could practically hear the smug smirk in his tone. He was still a very reserved and shy man, you knew that muchㅡ but in the confines and privacy of your shared home?

Ford was so lovably arrogant that most days you can't help but knock him down a couple pegs. It was because of you after all that his head didn't get too large. The man really didn't know where he'd be without you at his side, but in the moment he didn't want to think about it.

He didn't want to think at all really.

"Yes, let's have another."

He mumbled against your lips, pulling you in for another sensual kiss as his hands cradled your face. Your fingers carding through his hair. What either of you would give to make this night last forever, to have this moment last forever.

Just a slice of peace where the both of you could remain for as long as you're able. What wouldn't you give for that?

"Let's have as many as you want."

You felt pampered in Ford's embrace, drowned in his affection that you knew was yours and yours alone. The love he felt towards the triplets was something else entirely.

A small smile worked it's way up to your lips while you both exchanged soft kisses, there was no haste or need to rush. The both of you could simply be happy right here, right now, together.

Suddenly, a loud wail rang out from the upstairs of the cabin. Followed by two more loud cries from three certain troublemakers. You let out an exasperated noise and nuzzled into Stanford's neck as he chuckled at the timing of it all.

"Or... we could just practice."

Just a thought, if reader ever decided to give the stan twins flowers it would be wild soley because Stan and Ford grew up in a time where guys were supposed to give gals flowers, not the other way around LMFAO

Though, I feel like Stan would be over the moon about it even if he does make a fuss at the beginning about the fact that he should be getting you flowers and not the other way around. But that's got more to do with the fact that he doesn't really recieve genuine gifts all that often, but he does appreciate the gesture. And possibly steals a really big bouquet of your favorite flowers to give to you at a later time in retaliation-

With Ford on the other hand, it depends on when you give him flowers but for the most part he still gets flustered and bashful all the same. If it's for an amiable reason or to celebrate an achievement he thinks it's courtesy and although shy about it- he's grateful for the gift. If he's taken an interest to you, likely crushing on you already and you give him a gardenia- this man would short circuit and die on the spot. Granted it might actually be a really subtle way to say: "I reciprocate your feelings." or "I like you too." but kill the idea of Ford missing that detail when that man practically drowns in details. He definitely gets you a flower bouquet of your own at some point, most likely he makes it himself with Dipper and Mabel's help too.