kinky_falls | Gravity Falls Kink Meme Post #1

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Gravity Falls Kink Meme Post #1

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In an AU where Stan never got the portal running again, Stan starts a relationship with Dipper to fill in the hole Ford left.

SA
I forgot to say, but could you age Dipper up to at least 17-18 for this? Sorry I left that out.

(This isn't finished, but will probably just have one more part. I'll get back to it soon!)

They don't go back to Gravity Falls the next year, or the year after that. Mabel writes Stan like clockwork, even when he doesn't respond - it's March before she gets a letter back, and she talks about it for days, like it's the best thing that's ever happened to her. Dipper gets it, he does. She feels guilty. Sometimes Dipper does, too, when he remembers those last weeks.

When they're fifteen, Mabel bolts into their room with a letter. "Grunkle Stan wants us back this summer!"

Back to Gravity Falls - back to Wendy and Soos and the forest rife with mysteries to be solved. Dipper won't lie; he's excited. He's missed it. He jumps to his feet. "Really?"

"Really! Ahh, I can't believe it, he says he's missed us! This is gonna be so much fun, I can't wait!"

*

It's the weirdest thing - everything is different, but it's all the same, too. Soos and Wendy both still work there. Stan still runs the tours in the same suit and hat. The house still walks the fine line between kitschy and derelict.

Maybe what's really different, then, is Stan. It's hard to even say what it is - he's not quieter, really, or more subdued, but he is, in a way Dipper can't pin down. He doesn't have the same spark he used to. He is getting older, Dipper thinks. Dipper is, too, and isn't so easy to fool.

On the second morning, Dipper is on the porch with Journal 3 when Stan steps out and sees him with it. He makes a surprised noise and leans against a post. "You still got that old thing?" he says.

"Yeah," Dipper says.

"They didn't confiscate it?"

"They did," Dipper says, "but they gave it back."

"Huh." Stan doesn't say anything for a while. Out in the forest, a woodpecker's rattle echoes. "You gonna go out monster hunting?"

Dipper nods.

Stan shoots him an appraising look - Dipper braces himself for Stan to scowl or give him hell for putting Mabel in danger. Instead, Stan smiles, a little distantly, and nods. "Alright," he says. "Just don't start the apocalypse."

*

Dipper doesn't - not that summer, or the next, though he gets close a couple of times. Whatever quietness he had noticed in Stan fades away; Stan is just who he is, now, more and more removed from that first summer. Dipper almost forgets the portal, and the basement. Whatever moved Stan to build it is gone, now. It's hard to imagine him as some mastermind criminal, hard to believe he could get a machine so complex up and running without outside influence.

The summer that they're sixteen, going on seventeen, Dipper finally asks Stan. Maybe he thinks Stan will be honest with him, now. Maybe he's just solved most of the other mysteries of the Journal, leaving the geometric question of the portal. It's late summer and hot, the forest buzzing lazily with noise, and Stan is drinking out on the porch. Dipper drops next to him on the couch. Stan lifts his can of beer to greet him, but doesn't speak, sipping slowly at it and watching the treeline.

"Grunkle Stan," Dipper says, "can I talk to you about something?"

"What, you having girl problems?"

"No, no, it's nothing like that." Dipper swallows. The memories seem hazy and faraway, his panic and anger at odds with the tired forest and relaxed old man sitting next to him. "Do you remember...that first summer we were here, and the portal?"

Stan scratches his throat and hums. "Sure," he says. "What about it? Y'know I told Mabel, it's fine, you kids did what you - "

"What were you doing?" Dipper asks. "What were you planning?"

Stan drains his beer, belches, and crumples the can. "Eh," he says. "It was only ever a pipe dream, anyway." He glances at Dipper, who is frowning at him - it's not an answer. Stan sighs. "I was just...trying to find the author," he says.

"But why? You read his warnings, you saw what it could do - "

Stan puts a hand on his head; Dipper is as tall as he is, now, and the act feels patronizing. Dipper ducks away with a grunt. "Look, kid. Sometimes you just - get stuck on doing something, even when you know it might be wrong. I think you get that. You're stubborn - little like me, that way." He sighs, and leans down to grab another beer from the cooler. "It's over, now. Is what it is." He turns the beer over in his hand, wiping the condensation away. Then, he holds the beer out to Dipper. "You ever have one of these?"

Dipper has - courtesy of Wendy - but he shakes his head. If Stan doesn't buy it, he doesn't comment on it, just hands it over and takes another one out. "So you weren't...trying to end the world," he says. It sounds stupid, once it's out.

"Nah," Stan says. "I live here, too, y'know?"

Dipper toys with the tab. "You're not still working on it, are you?"

Stan sighs, and cracks open his beer. "No," he says. "Not anymore."

Maybe Dipper's a fool, but he believes him.

*

Dipper gets glasses over winter break, and when Stan sees him the next summer, he stops dead in his tracks. He looks at Dipper like Dipper's just socked him in the stomach - and then, before Dipper can do more than process that information, Mabel bolts out of the driver's seat and into Stan's arms. Dipper drags a couple of suitcases out of the backseat and joins her and Stan and Soos and Melody. Stan ruffles his hair; Soos hugs him so hard that Dipper's back pops. Melody offers a more mellow half-hug and promises she won't try to realign his back.

"You got glasses!" Stan says. "Never thought you could look nerdier than you already did. You sure showed me." He laughs, a deep belly-laugh, and slaps Dipper on his back, and goes to help him drag their things inside.

*

That summer is when it changes. It doesn't even take time - Stan finds Dipper in the kitchen that same night and sits with him and starts to ask him questions about Dipper's finds in the forest. He's never really had an interest before, either skirting the issue entirely or listening so he'd know what might try to kill his niece and nephew this week. That night, though, he asks Dipper question after question, and smiles, loose and slow, as Dipper gets caught up in his findings and theories. At one point, Dipper is almost sure that Stan gets a little misty-eyed - but that's probably just a trick of the light, and the late hour.

When Stan leaves a couple of hours later, he pats Dipper on the shoulder as he goes - a half-familiar touch, warm and steady and not quite lining up with Dipper's memories. That's not so odd - they're both changing more and more each year.

*

AYRT

EEEEEEEEEEE!! This is so good! Can't wait for the rest!

DA

I really like the glasses part. And Dipper's many, many feelings.

(This took a weird turn for implied Dipper/Bill and Stan/Ford. I hope that's okay, nonnie - if it's not, let me know, and I'll whip you up something else. It's also pretty dubcon-flavored.)

Stan spends more and more time with Dipper as the weeks pass. It's weird, at first, because they've kept each other at arm's length for so long - not unfriendly, exactly, just distant. And Stan's never wanted to hear more about the forest's anomalies than he had to, but he's starving for stories, now. More than once, Dipper tries to end the conversation and Stan wheedles and prods until he's launched into another story.

So - he's getting lonely, Dipper thinks. Dipper's no stranger to that, even with Mabel. He likes Stan. He does. And talking to Stan comes with perks - Stan starts sneaking him beers, even smokes some weed with Dipper, when he's in the right mood. Stan has some fantastic stories of his own about this town, which shouldn't surprise Dipper but does - the way he goes on about the gnomes makes Dipper laugh so hard he cries. When he teases Dipper, it doesn't sting like it used to, and he laughs easy when Dipper teases him right back.

It's nice when he's physical with Dipper, too - punching his arm, patting his back, knocking his hat off his head. It feels a little like forgiveness, though that can't be it, because Dipper doesn't - won't - believe that he's done anything he needs to be forgiven for.

One evening, when they're out on the porch, Stan leans in close, and touches Dipper's glasses, right over the bridge of his nose, and pushes them up. He lets his hand linger there, warm and large and weirdly intimate; Dipper flushes. "Typical Poindexter," Stan says. Dipper can't remember what he's said, can only think, for one surreal moment, about the way his heart is pounding in his chest, a tightness going through him.

Stan laughs, and takes his hand away.

*

"I'm old, not decrepit," Stan says. "C'mon. Show me what you got."

Dipper's pretty sure he's more drunk than Stan, at this point, but he's still steady on his feet and has enough presence of mind to nitpick. "Should we fight here? We might break the f - the fish tank."

Stan considers this, then lowers his fists. "Touche," he says. "C'mon."

The vending machine takes the same code it did all those years ago. Dipper's heart begins to race as Stan drags it open and fiddles with the lamp. He wonders if this is it, if Stan is going to reveal himself. He wonders what it's like, down here.

In the elevator, Stan takes his wrist and holds it. Dipper lets him. Stan's hand is clammy and hot and elicits goosebumps on Dipper's arms, makes his stomach flip.

The basement is quiet and dark. There aren't even the blinking reserve lights that Dipper remembers; it is pitch dark. Then, Stan flips a switch, and a few flickering lights come to life. Dipper swallows. The control room is dusty, smaller than Dipper's memories of it. Through the window at the end of it, he can see the hulking, broken skeleton of the portal. There are bottles and beer cans scattered down here, old cans and dishes. In one corner there is a forgotten husk of blankets. Stan leads him, still holding his hand. Dipper is too drunk to decipher his feelings, to know if they're fear or excitement or something inbetween.

They step into the vast cavern. Stan lets go and simply stands there, holding the lantern. The broken eye of the portal gazes back at them.

"Stan?"

"Alright," Stan says. "So like I was saying." He's grinning when he turns to Dipper. "Show me what you got."

They square off. Dipper thinks - no one can hear what's happening, down here. He thinks - Stan is different, now. He can trust him. It's been so long; Stan has forgiven them. He has. This isn't a trick.

He swings. Stan laughs, light, sounding like a younger man. "Nice try!"

(Dipper wouldn't know down here if Stan's eyes changed - )

Stan is strong, still. Strong as he ever was, maybe. He's going easy on Dipper, letting Dipper duck and swerve, clipping him on the shoulder and sides, and when Dipper realizes that, his indignation overturns everything else in him. His face is hot. He swings, harder than he should, and clocks Stan right in the face. Stan staggers back, but doesn't go down; he lifts his head and laughs again, louder. "That's what I'm talkin' about! C'mon, I know you took lessons, too, Brainiac."

(He'd almost forgotten his cadence, almost forgotten the unsteady way his body staggered across the room - )

Stan holds back, and holds back, and then, finally, when Dipper has gotten two good hits in and they're both winded, he tackles Dipper to the floor. It hurts, but not as much as it could. They grapple; Stan has his weight to use against him. Their grunts echo in the vacant space and ping off of the twisted metal of the portal.

"Alright, I fold, I fold!" Dipper says, finally, his words coming out thin. Stan has one of Dipper's arms twisted uncomfortably, and his other forearm braced just under Dipper's throat, not quite choking him. He's straddling his stomach, the soft curve of him pressed into Dipper.

"Ha," Stan says. "You gonna give up that easy?"

Dipper swallows. "I don't think..."

"Sorry, sorry," Stan says, and lets him go. He doesn't get off Dipper. He leans over him, until his breath is warm on Dipper's face. It's dark enough that Dipper can't read his expression. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Dipper shakes his head.

"Hey-hey, it's okay." Stan palms his face. "It's okay."

He shifts his weight, and suddenly the heat of him is pressed against Dipper's hips, his cock. Dipper is hard. He doesn't know when that happened, or why; all he knows is it feels good, in a surreal way. He gasps and bucks his hips.

"Stan - "

(He was in Dipper's dreams for years, wasn't he, and sometimes Dipper had woken flushed, had sometimes - )

"Stan," he says again. Stan presses his face into the crook of Dipper's neck; his stubble is itchy, a little ticklish. Dipper laughs. Then, Stan's wet mouth opens against his throat and sucks, and his hips roll against Dipper's, and the laugh drops out.

"I know," Stan says, "I know." His broad hand slides up under Dipper's shirt and strokes his stomach. Dipper shudders and whines; he turns his face toward Stan. Maybe it's to say something. Maybe it's to tell him to stop. The words don't come, and Stan turns into him and kisses him on the lips, slow and steady. Dipper's kissed people before, so he has an idea of what to do, but all of that seems to be jammed somewhere in him. Stan sucks at his bottom lip and flicks his tongue over it, then leans up. "You okay?"

Dipper has no idea how to answer that. "Who are you?" he asks.

Stan laughs. It's not reassuring. He presses another sucking kiss to Dipper's throat and slides both of his hands up Dipper's body; he pinches Dipper's nipples and begins to roll them between his finger and thumb. "You know who I am," he says.

He doesn't. But he doesn't want him to stop, whether it's Bill, or Stan, or a stitched-on mask of a person. At this juncture, Dipper wants him to undo his jeans and take him in his hand. He thumbs Stan's boxers down. Stan doesn't return the favor, kissing every exposed inch of Dipper he can reach while still grinding his cock down against him, still gently tweaking Dipper's nipples until he's arching and buzzing with pleasure.

This is wrong. It's - a mess. Dipper is a mess, thinks he might prefer it if this were - if this were him, if Stan's voice suddenly laughed in his cadence, because the sudden absence of him has been an itch at the back of Dipper's mind he never could scratch, a riddle he's never been able to solve.

Dipper fumbles with his jeans.

"Fuck, kid," Stan says, and groans. He kisses Dipper on the nose, a quick peck that feels out of place. Then, Stan is gone, scooting between Dipper's thighs. Dipper's jeans are still up around his hips; Stan makes quick work of that, hooking his underwear and jeans with his thumbs and folding them down. It's embarrassing how hard Dipper is, but Stan doesn't hesitate, doesn't say a word. He leans in and sucks Dipper into his mouth, takes every inch of him in one swift movement. Dipper claps a hand over his mouth; it doesn't do much to stifle his shocked moan.

It's too dark, and the room too vast, for Dipper to see the ceiling; he feels dizzy, hollowed-out, but it's not bad. He tentatively rests a hand on Stan's shoulder; Stan hums, the noise of it vibrating through Dipper. He moans again. It echoes. It makes Dipper all the more aware of the feeling they aren't alone.

Dipper's orgasm takes him by surprise; Stan pulls wetly off his cock and kisses his thigh, jerking him through it. "Yeah," he murmurs, "yeah, just like that, Sixer. Let it out."

Dipper's pleasure crests in him; for a moment, that's all he knows.

*

The next morning, Dipper expects things to change. Maybe they do, in the same formless way Stan has. But Stan reads his paper at the table like he always has, and drinks his coffee, and laughs at Mabel's jokes, and asks, casually, if Dipper's got any plans.

"Nothing yet," Dipper says. "But something'll turn up. It always does."

He doesn't know himself it's supposed to be a threat - I know what you are - or an enticement. Stan just raises his eyebrows and flicks his paper, like that's the end of that.

They both know better.

not OP

It's nice when he's physical with Dipper, too - punching his arm, patting his back, knocking his hat off his head. It feels a little like forgiveness, though that can't be it, because Dipper doesn't - won't - believe that he's done anything he needs to be forgiven for.

OUCH THIS HURT IN THE BEST WAY.

I adore the detail about Stan's eyes, that's brilliant. I love the ambiguity in the middle of sex, and the way it meant two very different things for both of them. And it was a great idea to set it after wrestling - that particular kind of 'manly' intimacy worked great here.

OP
Whoa, nice. This is very hot. (That pushing up the glasses thing, eep.) And oh:
It's nice when he's physical with Dipper, too - punching his arm, patting his back, knocking his hat off his head.

One question, though: is Stan really possessed by Bill in the basement, or is he just too drunk to realize (or care) that Dipper's not Ford?

Writer anon

It's ambiguous enough that you can interpret it however you like, but personally, I don't think he's being possessed by Bill, he's just...not in a great place, mentally, which is made worse by the alcohol and the portal.

Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. :D

This is so delicious, thank you so much for wriitng it. My favorite part was "I didn't hurt you, did I?".

Fuuuuck, this is so good. Part one had such a beautiful melancholy, and you transitioned smoothly from that into hot, foreboding, mindfucky porn. Nice!

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Gravity Falls Kink Meme Post #1

Stan/Dipper, Stancest flavored

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