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Dipper woke up when the soft sunlight hit is eyes in the morning, groaning as he wasn't ready to start the day yet.
He rolled out of bed, softly hitting the floor to wake him up, before remembering he should in fact NOT do that if he wants to keep his apartment. His landlord was a real pain in the ass when it came to noise complaints, but at least it was quiet.
Or at least, it WAS quiet, until a few weeks prior, when a certain dream demon came into his life. The same demon sleeping out on the living room couch right now.
In all honesty, it was completely Dippers fault. He was struggling financially, unable to pay for college or even his apartment, soon to be kicked out, and he turned to more supernatural means out of desperation.
He attempted to summon a demon, and control it with a binding circle to help him out. Bad move on his part, because he got WAY more than he bargained for. Well, at least he was able to afford to live and go to school, but the cost is simply... a lot.
It was the usual morning setup as Dipper stumbled into the living room after having changed, rubbing his eyes as he took in the sight that was becoming far too normal.
Bill hummed some song severely out of tune as he stirred something in a mixing bowl, causing Dipper to scowl. Metal whisk in a metal mixing bowl; the sound was too grating on the ears for this early in the morning.
"Sapling, you're awake earlier than usual," Bill drawled as he looked over his shoulder, offering him a lazy grin as he continued making a mess in the kitchen.
Dipper only hummed in acknowledgement, not quite in the mood to converse with a demon who had a sick pleasure in messing with him, and instead came into the kitchen to see what he was making. Pancakes. Or something like that. They looked edible enough, more edible than Mabel's pancakes.
"Cooking? What are you, a housewife?" Dipper sighed as he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, leaning against the counter.
"Yeah?" Bill raised a brow as he ladled another batch of pancakes on the griddle.
Dipper nearly slid against the counter in surprise, staring at the demon.
"Wait- yeah?"
"That was the summoning magic you did. You asked me to marry you. We even have the rings to show for it." Bill wiggled his fingers, and a blue line suddenly glowed on his ring finger. Dipper's eyes snapped to his own, seeing an identical loop on his own.
"No... no fucking way." Dipper blinked, then blinked again, but harder. "So you're, what? Cooking me breakfast?"
"Sure am! Do you prefer blueberry or chocolate chip?"
"Are these poisonous blueberries that will give me food poisoning for a week? Or chocolate chips that are cursed to make me hear the voices of the damned?"
"Hmm. Well, if you ask nicely, I GUESS I could make them do that." Bill looked so sincere that it sent a shiver up Dipper's spine.
"Why the fuck are you doing this? The ritual was just supposed to bind you to me and fulfill the contract!"
"Hey, you're the one who wrote a marriage contract. What are you surprised about?"
Dipper found himself sitting down at the table, scowling, as a plate of fresh pancakes - blueberry and chocolate chip - were set down in the center. Bill sat across from him.
Then, Bill started to count on his fingers. "You wanted someone who'd give you a place to live, provide for you, and be tied to you in life and death, in sickness and in health."
"That was supposed to make you give me a bunch of money and make you unable to kill me or hurt me!"
"Sure, honey. Eat well."