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Cramming before a midterm wasn’t something Mabel did, at all, in the history of ever. Her logic dictated that if she didn’t know everything she was meant to know a day before the exam, she was probably never going to really know it. Not in any sort of sustainable way that would come through during a test. As a result, she would go through her notes, maybe look over something that was particularly challenging to her, and called it a day.
Studying? Important, of course. But it was equally important to take breaks, to relax, and not let yourself get burnt out.
This was a concept that was particularly challenging for her other half.
Dipper had holed up in his room for the better part of the day, studying for his Midterms fervently. Last time she checked he was pouring over Trig- which… was fine, really, but the guy needed to learn when to say when and come up for air. Even if it was just for ten minutes! She hadn’t seen him all day, for crying out loud.
She simply could not let that stand.
Marching upstairs she flung his door open with flair, strutting inside and putting a hand on her hip. To his credit, Dipper didn’t even look up.
“Dipnado. Diptastic. Dipstiny’s Child. You’re seriously killing me here. I don’t even get the faintest of eye contact? You wound me deeply.”
Thinking pen between his teeth he nodded without actually looking at her. “Uh-huh,” he replied, not having heard a word of what she was saying.
Seriously? This was offensive.
Dipper was sitting at his desk only… not actually using his desk except to pile the books he wasn’t actually using onto it. Instead he had a grip on his notes in his hands, hunched over in a very stellar display of poor posture when she sauntered around to peer over his shoulder, glancing at his handwriting as he took notes in the margins of the page.
“Dipperrrrrrr,” she whined practically in his ear.
“I’m studying,” he grunted, waving a hand as if to gesture at the mess of books and notes before him.
“Yes, but it’s break time now. I have deigned it to be so. You’ve been holed up in here all day!”
Pushing aside his history textbook she sat on the desk squarely in front of him. It put her at a vantage point where she was staring at the mess of loose curls that sat atop Dipper’s hatless head. The front part of his hair shielded his eyes from her and the waves flared out behind his ears. It was getting shaggy. The sight of it made Mabel want to run her fingers through it and muss it up all at once.
“You’re not even listening to me right now, are you?”
Dipper didn’t respond and Mabel made an annoyed face, gripping the hem of her skirt as she gave him a huffy glare.
“You are so full of suck right now, I can’t even believe it.”
Nothing.
She paused for a moment.
“You know, Jeremy Miller sent me this really obscene snapchat earlier. I was initially shocked but I have to admit I was impressed. He’s hung like a horse.”
“Hmmm. That sounds great,” he spoke slowly, obviously still immersed in his work.
Pouting a bit Mabel had resigned herself to drastic measures.
“Fine. For the record, I didn’t want to have to do it this way but you, sir, have left me no choice.” Mabel hopped off the desk and left the room quickly, intending to do something specific but not showing her hand just yet.
Dipper had noticed that much, and felt guilty briefly but also a little relieved, mostly because he knew himself well enough to know that if Mabel stuck around while he was trying to study he was not going to get a damn thing accomplished. He’d been trying so hard to focus and not allow himself to get distracted that it’d basically taken all of his focus to stonewall her.
It was no easy feat with her arms draped over his shoulders and her breath against his ear, or even with her sitting on his desk, her shapely legs peeking out just above the top of his notebook.
Sighing he scratched the back of his neck. How long had he been sitting in this position anyway? Thumbing through his notebook he told himself he’d put in another hour and then make it up to Mabel somehow.
It was ten minutes before she entered the room again and he tried to sit up straight and steel himself.
Mabel was not the type to give up easily.
She sat on his desk again, perching herself as she had before, but he didn’t glance up at her. He could feel her eyes on him.
“Dipper,” she spoke in a quiet but gentle voice. “You’re going to take a break now, alright? And I promise you’re going to thank me for it.”
“I’ll take a break in an hour, Mabes, I promise. Just give it up already.”
She scooted so she was sitting at the very edge of the desk, her feet placed on the seat of his chair, on either side of his legs, knees parting in front of him.
“I’m trying to study and I don’t need your dist-”
The word was forgotten before he’d even finished it. Sure… it took him a second or two but once his eyes had glanced up ever so slightly and caught sight of her, the pen he’d been chewing on had clattered to the floor.
She wasn’t wearing anything underneath her skirt.
“Oh god.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.” A smug grin stole it’s way to her face. “What were you saying?”
He groaned, tossing his notes onto the floor by his chair. “You’re borderline diabolical.”
“It’s not my fault I know all your weaknesses.”
“Come here,” Dipper reached for her but Mabel was too fast, and evaded his grasp, hopping from the desk and inching towards the door, the lovely sight that had been before him now hidden underneath her polka-dotted skirt.
“As much as I would looooove to do that, I can’t. It’s not part of the plan. But- you should definitely follow me. I will lead you to the promised land!” She scampered out into the hallway and he was tasked with awkwardly chasing her while trying to hide the fact that he was half hard already as he headed to her room next door.
There hadn’t been an excessive amount of forethought as to what he was going to find there. Mabel was always surprising him, and though he was pretty damn proud of the fact he knew her better than anyone, even he couldn’t always predict what she might do.
This was one of those times.
His back rested against the closed door to her room as he took the sight in. Mabel’s room had what appeared to be a blanket fort set up on the floor. Mabel’s desk and chair seemed to be holding up one side, and a string of lights that usually resided on her bed frame looped through the middle to bring the fort to a point. Two couch cushions and the side of her bed made for the other walls and her pink floral comforter was tossed on the floor like a rug, with a fuzzy throw tossed on top of that for good measure. The architect herself was already inside of her masterpiece, one of her feet poking out of the side of the structure.
He felt pretty stupid for resisting so long. The sight of the makeshift fort made him grin from ear to ear. They used to build these all the time as kids, mostly in the living room (more space to turn the fort into more of a fortress) but it had been a while since they’d made one.
Lifting the sheet with stars printed all over it that served as the door, he ducked inside. “Honey, I’m home,” and he let himself land belly first onto the blankets. Her knees were a few inches away and he reached out to squeeze her knee. “You know, our roof is a little lopsided. We might want to get that looked at. I know a guy…”
Hands in his hair, Mabel made sure to mess up his hair so thoroughly that it simply looked like something had decided to nest atop his head. “Yeah well, my good for nothing boyfriend left me to build it myself.”
“What a bastard,” he remarked, inching closer so he could place a kiss to her knee. “Clearly he doesn’t deserve you.”
“Clearly!” She chimed, agreeing with a laugh. “I could do so much better.”
“You could.” He nodded sagely. “What about Jeremy Miller? I hear he’s hung like a horse.”
Mabel snorted a laugh as Dipper’s lips pressed against her thigh, as she flopped backwards, giggling all the while. He used his elbows to shift so he was besides her, eye level this time.
“Forgive the euphemism. You’re a lady.” He paused, looking remorseful. “What I meant was, word on the street is his dick is enormous. I hear he goes by Tripod. Good ol’ Tripod Miller.”
Mabel let out another raucous laugh, and his heart flips in his chest. “Ohmygod. Stop,” she managed to spit out the words, and it sounds like a plea.
“What? You started it.” Dipper leaned over a bit so his mouth was a few inches from hers, his arms supporting himself as he was positioned half above her. He kissed her then, silencing her giggles and pressing his mouth purposefully against hers. “Should I be worried?”
One of her bare legs snaked between his and she kissed him back, a quiet smacking sound escaping from their lips as he pulled away. “I almost can’t think of someone you should be less worried about,” she remarked off hand as his knee traversed upward until it brushed against hers, and as if on cue she parted her legs a bit to accommodate his shifting weight.
Among other things.God, his hands were itching to touch her.
As much as he’s enjoying their banter he can’t help himself and his mouth is on hers quickly, getting a pleased little sound from mabel as his tongue slips into her mouth, the familiar taste of her mixed with strawberry lip gloss getting his mind buzzing.
Mabel’s shirt has a drawing of a cat on it wearing pink cateye glasses and his hand slides underneath it easily, palm gliding over her smooth stomach and his fingertips dancing along her ribcage before cupping her breast in his hands, kneading it gently against his palm until she lets out a little gasp.
It’s not often they get to be loud, but it’s amazing just what her quiet sounds do to him on a cellular level. Her breath hitching when he puts his mouth on her and sucks her nipple until it gets hard against his tongue makes him ache. Dipper lets his hand drop from her chest, mouth still lavishing her with attention as his hand glides up her thigh, pushing up her skirt so it’s bunched around her hips as he slips two fingers against her.
“Fuck,” he sighs against her chest when he feels how wet she already is.
“I missed you,” she bites her lips after speaking, her hips lifting a bit against his hand.
“I was just studying,” he assures her, lifting his chin to capture her lips once more, and Mabel’s hands are in his hair, against his scalp, tugging his face closer to hers.
“I know. But I missed you.” And that’s all she has to say for him to feel his cheeks grow warm in response at her double meaning. Because yes, sure, he had missed Mabel after a long day of cramming. Missed her laugh, her voice, all of it. But he had also missed her. Missed being close like this. Missed the way she felt wrapped around his fingers. Wrapped around the rest of him. Mabel could be three feet away and he’d miss that feeling.
“Yeah,” he breathed, curling his fingers inside of her unceasing in his movements, drawing her ever closer. Mabel’s eyes fluttered shut, eyelashes fanned against her cheeks and her hips rocked beneath him. Her breath ghosted over his face as it became more and more labored. “I missed you back.”
His mouth fit over hers once more as his hands guided her home.