Tag: pinecest

(W)reckless

edward-or-ford:

pineneedleshurt:

Mabel is tipsy.

She giggles loudly as they walk out of the club together. At twenty two, they still had varying ideas of what consists of a fun night out. Last time they hit the scene for (super secret, lets drive 30 minutes out of town just to be safe) date night, he got to choose the activities. They had filled up on free chips, and lost horribly at the trivia event Dipper’s favorite college bar held. They had laughed and joked, and Mabel made fun of him for ordering specialty brewed beers that “costs way too much to taste like liquid grass farts” (whatever that meant).

But tonight Mabel had the power, so they went dancing.

Well, Mabel danced. Dipper just sort of bobbed his head to the music, and watched in silent awe as Mabel’s body became one with the beat. But the club was loud and crowded, and left no room for silly conversations or playful banter.

Men, more handsome and better built and way less awkward in this type of environment than Dipper, kept glancing at Mabel. Glancing at Dipper too, and wondering if the two were together, or if they were just friends or possibly related. (The fact that all three op were accurate makes Dipper’s tummy a bit queasy still. But he wasn’t going to let his thoughts linger on the morality of their relationship any more than he already has.) And a few even came over, and Dipper had so sit there like an idiot as Mabel shooed the men away.

It was awful.

He couldnt even drink, because Mabel was knocking back colorful liquor that was decorated with wedges of fruit on the rim. And it’s definitely catching up to her now as they walk through the parking lot. Which is a problem, because a tipsy Mabel is a handsy Mabel.

She plasters herself to his side, snuggling into him in an awkward sidehug and making them wobble. She tucks one hand into his back pocket, squeezing his little bum and giggling in his ear. Her breath is hot and moist on his skin. Her other hand creeps beneath his Fight Fighters graphic tee to caress his less than firm stomach. It makes Dipper grateful for the cover of darkness. His cheeks are on fire.

Once they get to the car, he grabs the water bottle he always keeps in the cup holder and gets her to drink at least half of it. Her rosy cheeks are warm and her dark eyes smolder with heat as she watches him put the key in the ignition. That impish grin of hers makes the red in his cheeks spread up to his ears.

Her hand rests on his thigh and inches dangerously higher as he turns onto the highway to take them home.

“Mabel,” he huffs in an attempt to dissuade her from doing anything more. But her devious hand is hot and familiar. It rubs him through his pants, her hot pink fingernails scraping along the denim seam just to make him gasp and tightly grip the wheel. “Fuck.”

He wish they were anywhere but in a moving vehicle.

Mabel hums along to the radio as she unbuttons his jeans. Her hand snakes into his pants, gripping him tightly, and making him press a little harder on the gas pedal.

Dipper’s breathing turns into shallow rasps. This is risky and stupid, but it feels so good. He can’t even deny that the danger doesn’t heighten the pleasure, making his stomach swoop and his chest tight. But his brain is going haywire with thoughts of crashing and burning. He tries to voice his concerns, to get her to stop, but Mabel’s other hand is yanking his zipper down. His words just come out as a helpless croak because she’s already leaning over the middle console, and taking him into her mouth.

He’s never done this before. Fuck, the whole thing sounds like a death sentence, but he understands the appeal immediately. The power of the car underneath his hands, coupled with the complete power he’s giving over to his sister, is a heady combination.

Dipper desperately wants to take a hand off the steering wheel to run it lovingly over her back and up her neck. To show how much he appreciates what she’s doing by carressing her scalp and weaving his fingers through her tresses. But maintaining control over the car seems like a better idea.

He focuses hard on the road ahead, his heart hammering as he fights with his brain to stay alert.

But then he’s groaning through gritted teeth, garbled enunciations of her name clawing out his throat, as she makes liquid heat spread throughout his veins. He blinks his vision clear, and wonders how they hadn’t just died.

Or maybe he is dead, and this is heaven?

She lets go of him with an obscene pop that echoes in the car. Mabel lifts herself to whisper in his ear, all fake stern as she does an impression of a burly cop.  "Pull over, punk. Gonna write ya a proper ticket for reckless driving…with me tongue on your chest.“

He almost laughs with relief.

But her hand is making its way back down to where he’s still hard, sensitive, and glistening wet from her mouth. So his reply is just a desperate whimper as she grips him tightly and possessively. She chuckles darkly in his ear when he actually pulls over on the side of the road. Their seat belts come undone, and he shifts the seat back so she can comfortably climb into his lap.

Date night was always fun.

This little fic shows that Needles is still our Queen of Pinecest! Spicy drabbles are good drabbles 🙂

Affair revised- Chapter 1

sunshineshipper:

“Someone said the bride wanted to see me?” Dipper opens the door after moments of standing behind it trying to figure out the right words to say to her if he ever got the courage to turn the knob. Today is a special day. For Mabel, for their family, for her soon-to-be husband; however, for him, it couldn’t be more of a dreary day. One that he wished would end, but also one he wished would never happen.

She turns away from her mirror and suddenly he’s out of breath. Her hair pulled back into one neat bun with a veil pinned in it. Her pearl colored wedding gown falling to the floor. And her eyes, full of joy and love.

Love obviously not for him. Yet it almost feels like it is when she rests her hand to her chest and her eyes glued to him. He catches a glimpse at her finger, the one with ring on it proving to him that it’s really too late for her to back out of this.

“Dipper,” her smile widens as she moves closer until she’s embracing him. He smells the scent of vanilla on her, a scent he’s become fond of. He tries to hide his obvious inhale by letting out a dry chuckle right after.

“Hi, Mabel.”

She breaths hard before pulling away with her arms still on his shoulders, “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed me?” he playfully scoffs trying to ignore how rapidly his heartbeat suddenly was, “You saw me a week ago.”

“A week away from my brother is too long,” she smiles and it only makes her more radiant than she already was, if that were even possible. His hands grasp hers, staying for a moment to feel her warmth, but then pulls them away from his shoulders.

“Are you nervous?”

“Nervous? On my wedding day? Why would I be nervous?” she’s lying and it’s easy for him to pick up on.

“Mabel, you shouldn’t be. I mean it’s understandable why, but…” he pauses to sigh because today feels too painful him, “Andy loves you. And you love him, right?”

She blinks once before turning her eyes to the ground. It’s almost suspicious.

“Of  course I love him. I am marrying him for a reason,” then she immediately looks back into his eyes.

“Yeah, but what reason?” he didn’t want her to take it seriously. Yet she did and her hands tighten against his shoulders.

“You ask a lot of questions, Dip,” still wasn’t a good enough answer, “I want to get married. That’s what matters, right?”

It’s what she wants and he wouldn’t be here if her happiness wasn’t the most important thing to him, “Then,” one hand moves up to caress her cheek. She pushes into it with a smile and a sigh. It only causes the pain to increase. Everything feels surreal now, “Marry him.”

**********************************************************************************

“The couple have decided to write their own wedding vows,” the priest turns to Mabel and Dipper’s eyes follow, “Would you like to go first?”

She smiles to respond. Taking his hand, she begins, “Andy, you have always been their for me.”

No, he hasn’t, Mabel. You know who has.

“You’ve loved me.”

I love you.

“You’ve taken care of me when I was sick.”

I did that more than he did.

“And you accepted me for who I really am.”

Mabel, no. You mean more to me than you ever will to him.

“That’s why I love you and want to always be with you,” small tears began welling up in her eyes and all he wants to do is run to her, hold her, and never let go.

Part of him tells him this is too hard watching the woman he loves marry another man, an undeserving man. He wants to say something just to get this to stop. He wants to scream, get her attention, tell her this isn’t right and that she belongs with him. But there’s no guarantee that she’ll agree and the worst case scenario would be for her to be completely disgusted of him and kick him out of her life for good. That’s not something he’s willing to risk. So, he sits back and holds his tongue.

The rest of the ceremony became nothing but a blur. He sat and watched as she became someone else. What did he expect, though? For her to love him? For her to decide that she couldn’t be with Andy and come running to him. No. It’s a dream Dipper could only imagine.

*****************************************

He keeps his eyes down to the drink in his glass as the music plays. From the slow songs to the fast ones. Everyone seemed so happy compared to him. He wanted to leave before anyone noticed his mood.

‘Why so sad? It’s a happy occasion.’

‘Aren’t you just happy for your sister?’

‘It’ll be your turn next.’

If only he could tell them what he really felt.

It happened. All the thoughts come flooding back. She’s married now. I guess that means every chance you thought you had with her are now termina-

“Wanna dance with the bride to the final song?” her voice comes to him with a eagerness to it. He slowly looks up from his glass to her standing right over him, one hand on her hip and the pressed against the table he’s sitting at. She looked slightly , “You always said you would dance with me at my wedding. Well, it’s my wedding day.”

He grins, it surprises him, but he pushes himself up out of his seat and takes her hand to lead her to the floor.

“You remember,” her arms immediately go around his neck while his rest on her waist, “when we used to play wedding as kids?”

“Yeah,” he nods. She lets out a soft laugh that takes all of his attention, “What’s so funny?”

“I just remembered when I shoved the piece of cake in your face. You screamed, ‘Mommy? Mabel’s not marrying me right!’” she rests her face onto his chest. He looks around for Andy, but he’s nowhere in sight. So, he pulls her face back up to meet his. She had a glow about her. She always did and it’s something he loved about her. Her eyes looked confused, as if there’s something she’s looking for an answer to. He wishes he could give it. He wants to say something, anything really just so he could pretend he was okay. But she interrupts him.

“What’s wrong?”

Her eyes shake and her lips hang open, he wants to move until his lips are on hers. It’s wrong, though. All of this is wrong. But looking at her while she’s so happy, he wouldn’t dare ruin it for her.

“I’m just really happy for you.”

edward-or-ford:

sevralships:

Have some fanart, friends! This is an illustration I did for pinecest super-dad, the illustrious Mister Edward-or-Ford himself. It’s an adorable scene from the sixth chapter of his fic Fistbump !

E-o-F got this illustration because he made the awesome choice to support me on Patreon. You should do the same if you want to commission art and/or want me to be able to feed myself.

<excuse the guilt trip and enjoy the cest>

What an amazing piece of art! Thank you! You have no idea how happy I am with this.