#i can deal with playfulness but sometimes a req comes off as demanding

[dietpitt]

Wait

Fresh off the heels of the Murder Hut Stan/Reader (sfw but suggestive)

Thanks so much for the response (and nice words aww)!! Sorry I’m so slow lol. I’ve got a few more reqs to go, but if there’s a demand, I might continue this in a part 2

 Hooking up with the town showman and eventually becoming his… whatever it is you want to call yourself, certainly wasn’t what you thought you’d be doing when you moved to Gravity Falls, but life is funny like that. You bumped into the guy at the local bar; he made you laugh, you bought him a drink, and next thing you know you’re at his place. Waking up the next morning to jars of eyeballs and boxes of bones in his house had you thinking you just spent your last night with the next Bundy. Thankfully though when he caught you on your way to sneak out, he explained himself instead of killing you. For that, you’re very grateful.

You’re also grateful that Stan seems to enjoy your company enough to let you hang around, though you know it’s probably mostly motivated by the free labor he gets out of you helping out. At the moment you really don’t mind. Dare you say it, you think you’re having... Feelings for this “Stanford Pines”…

 No, no, no, don’t think about it right now-- not as you’re parking your car in the lot and heading to his back door, for Heaven’s sake.

You knock, the door opens, and—oh God, how could you not think about that grin and how it makes your gut flutter when you’re looking right at it—

“Hey,” Stan says coolly, stepping aside to let you into the home part of The Mystery Shack. “You’re here early.”

“Two hours later than usual actually, but who’s counting?”

Stan laughs, shutting the door behind you and leaning against it amusedly. “Well, you apparently.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tease, letting yourself give him the old once-over as you pass him by; the fez you could definitely stand to lose, but the white button-up he sports does a good job of hugging him in the right places. As far as uniforms go, it could use something more. A jacket, maybe?

“Hey, I saw that! You just checked me out.” He acts as if he caught you. Like you don’t “check him out” in more ways than one nearly every day of the week.

Laughing, your hands slide up to his tie, fingertips running along the bold yellow question mark at its end. “So what if I was? You gonna do something about it?” Giving the tie a playful tug, you lean in to push Stan back against the door ever so slightly—

The tie’s slipped from your grasp, leaving you empty-handed. You blink, not quite understanding what happened until Stan’s thumb brushes along your cheek, excited smile turning apologetic. “Sorry doll—believe me, I’d love to do somethin’ about it right over there on that table, but I’ve got a tour group linin’ up as we speak. Last and biggest of the day, don’t wanna keep ‘em waitin’ too long or they won’t hang around and buy merch after.”

“But—“

Stan gently moves you aside and heads towards the door to the back porch where the tours usually begin, adjusting his fez and tie in the mirror as he speaks. “Shouldn’t be more than 45 minutes—an hour, tops. Y’know how it is, sometimes there’s stragglers slowin’ things down.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” you huff, arms crossed. Okay, obviously you know this is part of the job. It’s an hour, no big stinkin’ deal. You’ll survive. But do you want to wait to have some personal time with Stan?

Absolutely not.

You join him over by the mirror, letting your displeasure show. He just laughs again. That damn laugh makes you want to kiss him even more.

“Gotta give the people what they want.” He turns, giving you a chaste, but promising kiss on the lips, catching you off guard. But he’s halfway outside before you can make it anything more.

“I’ll make it worth your while, alright?” Stan winks, closing the door behind him and leaving you in the quiet of his house. You can hear his loud, grand introduction from outside: “Welcome to The Mystery Shack, folks, prepare your minds and wallets—“

Damn him! That kiss left you restless…

Just as you’re about to head to Stan’s room to wait, suddenly you get an idea.

Pleased with yourself already, you pop into the Shack gift shop and grab a blue pine tree hat, plopping it onto you head. The iced goods machine catches your eye as you leave and you grab a red ice pop on your way out the back.

“Here we have the Mystical Totem Pole, abandoned on-site by Oregon Natives hundreds of years ago! Some say the eyes of The Great One still follow those who walk by!” Your eyes roll at the cheesey way his voice shakes.

The group isn’t too far ahead, and you jog up to join the tour, hat low over your eyes. You hang towards the back, using the wide gentleman there as cover if needed.

“The small crowd ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs’ as you walk past, a couple people take a picture with the flash on in broad daylight; your attention is mostly on Stan of course, watching him lean on his 8-ball cane and schmoozing them up before moving on to the final outdoor showpiece.

“And here we have the ancient and completely naturally formed, definitely not hand-carved ‘Rock That Looks Like a Face’ Rock.”

The man in front of you raises his hand, “So it’s a rock?”

“Yes, but it looks like a face.” You can tell Stan’s eyes are trying their hardest not to roll into the back of his skull. Dealing with these people takes real patience.

And you want to test just how much patience he has today, since he was so keen on testing yours.

Your hand shoots up as you lean into sight. “So it’s a rock, but is it a face?”

“No, it just lo-“ Mr. Mystery’s biting tone drops as he recognizes you, nearly blurting out your name. A flash of irritation, then amusement before he returns to his showman persona. “It’s a rock that looks like a face. Nothing more.”

Another man chimes in. “So it looks like a rock?”

You barely stifle your laughter, earning a glare from your tour guide before he turns on his heel and leads the tour inside silently.

Inside, Stan begins to show off the Sascrotch and Poly-Dactyl. Suddenly you remember your ice pop and set to eating it before it melts completely.

It’s already semi-melted, and you have to work your way from the bottom first before sucking on the side as you move to the top. You take in the room, noting the fallen antlers from the Jackalope that need to be replaced later.

“The mighty Poly-Dactyl, 4 terrifying pairs of razor-sharp wings! No touching ladies and gentleme-“

Stan’s voice halts, and you turn to see why: he’s looking directly at you, gaze dropping from your eyes to your lips wrapped around the frozen treat. What a dope.

“Y-you can buy yer very own toy replica in the gift shop, perfect for shavi-“

Noticing the sticky drip of syrup that’s dibbled down your hand and fingers, you begin to lick it away slowly, grinning as Stan’s eyes widen and his ears turn red. Good.

“Alrightfolkslet’sgetamoveon!”

Cleaning yourself up a bit as you follow suit, you can’t help but feel a bit of excitement for what’s to come at the end of the tour. Will Stan be mad? Hopefully not- you’re not interfering with the tour really, just making it a little more entertaining for yourself. And Stan too, apparently.

The next couple attractions go by, and Stan only meets your gaze once, again in a light glare that definitely shouldn’t have you feeling so happy. Recognizing the final attraction before the gift shop, you sneak ahead so you can return the hat and Stan doesn’t have the chance to stop you on the way there. Tossing your used popsicle stick into a waste bin (and noting to remember the terrible joke on it to tell Stan later), you plop the borrowed hat back on its rack and lean against the cashier’s counter, waiting for the customers to enter so you can ring them up.

And there they are, scattering across the shop to browse. Looks like most of them are interested in something. Hey, maybe your participation even helped the tour out, made Stan hustle a little.

Speaking of, Stan meets your eyes from across the room, making his way over, ready to say something and-

“S’cuse me, nice young person! I’d like to buy this magnet for my son, please.” A sweet looking old woman taps you on the shoulder, intercepting the tongue-lashing you were just about to get. “He’s 48, but I I’m still trying to get him into collecting. Old Sylvia never gives up on a potential convert!”

You glance from the beady-eyed woman to Stan, smiling wide as you reply in a voice that’s way too perky. “Of course, ma’am! Great choice, I’m sure that’ll get him onboard.”

Settling behind the counter, you ring her up, taking note of Stan circling around behind you. You can feel him watching you—he’s practically burning a hole in the back of your head.

“All set! Thanks for visiting The Mystery Shack, please come again soon. Bring your son!” You wave the woman off, helping the next two in line directly behind her before there’s a lull as the people still decide on their purchases.

Finally, you hear Stan’s voice low in your ear. “You nearly ruined my tour today.”

You keep your gaze on the customers, watching as they try and decide between the $80 big cat shirts. Panther would be your pick, but what do you know?

“Aw Stan, don’t be so hard on yourself. You did great today. Loved the dramatic pauses.”

Suddenly, a mouth is directly on your ear, hot breath hitting your neck and cheek as its owner replies: “Those lips of yours are pretty distracting. Can you blame me?”

A shiver runs down your spine, and it takes all your human willpower to not turn around on your stool and push the man up against the wall in a room full of tourists.

You reach a hand back, running it along the outside of Stan’s leg, teasing him with your touch just out of sight from those in front of the register. “You wanted me to wait, so I did.”

You can feel his grin in your hair at that before he moves away. “You think you’re real funny, huh? We’ll see about that.”

And with that, he steps away, heading over to a group of customers surrounding the creepy gold miner statue on the far wall.

If you were eager before, now you’re tempted to pull an alarm of some kind to clear everyone out. Too bad there isn’t one to be found in this house of hazards.

The words Stan left you with ring in your head— you want to know what he means. But for now, all you can do is…

Wait.

#i dont know what to fuck the spacing is doing in this but take it lmao #sherlockfreak05 #stan/reader #hunkle stan #my writing #sfw #stan