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Dipper’s rough hands drifted over Pacifica's soft skin, a thought crossing his mind, as it always did: Are girls really this soft?
That thought crossed Dipper's mind every time he and Pacifica would take naps together, squished up into the grandfather's chair in the mystery shack living room.
He already knew the answer, no.
And his sister was a prime example of that, probably because despite being in their late teens. Mabel still finds reasons to roll around in dirt, she calls it art but Dipper begs to differ.
…
Dipper looked down, eyes slowly opening, the drowsiness in his eyes still heavy, Pacifica was spread across his lap, legs spread open on either side of his thighs, her flushed pinkish-orange cheek squished up against his broad chest. Her delicate, freshly pedicured hands remained firmly gripping him, refusing to let go. She was so close Dipper could almost feel every part of her shift along with her breathing. She seemed so small and peaceful in his lap. He squeezed her waist gently, His hands shifted out from underneath her short pink slip dress.
“Mmm,” Pacifica murmured in sleepy protest as she felt his hand shift.
Dipper was still fully dressed in his outdoor clothes, heavy shoes and all, he wondered how Pacifica was able to find herself so easily comfortable against the rutty material.
He found he preferred her like this, instead of when she was constantly fighting him
Their differences went beyond size; their complexions stood out as well. Dipper’s tan skin would glow in the summer sun, a trademark of the Pines family, while Pacifica’s skin was pale, almost porcelain in its smoothness
He glanced at the clock on the wall as it ticked by softly, the afternoon light fading through the window. But all he could feel was her steady breathing, the peaceful rise and fall against his chest, the peace and quiet was nice compared to the constant noise which usually accustoms the Mystery Shack
It was usual for them to have their saturday midday nap, two to three hours they had to themselves just to be in each other's company.
At first, Pacifica had suggested the naps to help Dipper get more sleep during his entrance exam preparations. He’d applied to West Coast Tech in hopes of making his Grunkles (especially Ford) proud, spending days on end studying with little to no rest. But thanks to his beautiful girlfriend, the scheduled naps worked wonders. They continued throughout Dipper's exam season, and even after he passed, they kept up the routine.
Dipper threw his head back onto the arm chair, and let out a sigh; He shifted her gently, pulling her closer against him to keep her from slipping, then wrapped his arms around her once more. Running his fingers along her almost milky white thighs, tracing small circles against her skin, the quiet intimacy they rarely had elsewhere.
Suddenly Dipper felt her stir against him again, a sleepy hum escaped her lips, and her lashes fluttered against her flushed cheeks. She nuzzled closer instinctively, Her blue hazy half awake eyes stared up at him.
“Pacifica?” he murmured softly, not sure if she was fully awake.
She responded with a muffled, groggy, “Mmm” she started again
Dipper couldn’t help but chuckle at how simple and quiet she was, completely unlike the fiery girl he’d been arguing with just a few hours ago
Her eyes cracked open just enough to catch his teasing grin. “What’s so funny?” she mumbled, her voice was still husky, sleep clear on her tongue.
“Nothing” he said, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “You’re just cute when you're like this, Princess”
Pacifica scoffed lightly, “Don’t get used to it,” she muttered, burying her face further into his chest. The strap of her slip dress slowly fell off her shoulder.
“Too bad I already am” He muttered back as his hands wandered up her body gently adjusting the strap of her slip dress back onto her shoulder. He continued until his fingers were encased in her nearly platinum-blonde hair. Unlike the rest of her, Pacifica’s hair was thick and heavy, yet clearly well cared for - so different from the messy mat of brown on his own head.
Dipper lowered his head, resting it gently atop her soft blonde locks, before shutting his eyes again, feeling the weight of sleep settle in.
“Champagne and flowers…”