Bloodsucking Witch

It's Spooky Season and Moody Max has been rarin' to go! I just watched "Blood Sucking Bastards" and have been enjoying so much Halloween material like Dracula, The Discovery of Witches and Interview With a Vampire, it seemed only preternatural to try my hand at horror!

Triggers: HORROR! All the things you'd expect; blood, witchcraft, vampirism, smut, allusions to death, mind control, dubcon all around, profanity, alcohol, questionable power dynamics (all set in the workplace), fingering, masturbation...gosh we really covered a lot. Pedge was feeling naughty...

In a lot of ways, this year had never been better. Sales had skyrocketed with your leadership expertise, company morale was higher than ever, and you had become nearly accustomed to being a vampire. Truth be told, the latter part of that arrangement had proven more challenging, but Max had provided a tremendous amount of professional support and personal direction. Granted, much of that mentorship had transpired through mind control, but you had no immediate complaints.

Living a life as a successful businesswoman and CEO had been taxing to say the least. It wasn’t until procuring Max as an exciting Chief of Operations, that you stepped into the full height of your professional prowess. It did come at a cost. No more lounging around at the beach. Difficult to do your make up in a mirror that no longer reflected your countenance. And the sex. The sex was mind-blowing, but you really wished you had more to contribute. Bossing people around for the majority of your adult life had always come naturally, but with tremendous isolation. It wasn’t until Max circumnavigated your willpower that your sexuality REALLY came into fruition. Put mildly, you had no idea that type of liberation was possible, until Max completely overrided your ability to say no. It was hawt. No more manipulations or wondering about their intentionality. Max’s desires were perfectly clear, as he rummaged around the recesses of your own, and you found yourself in a strange intimacy that finally scratched the hidden itch you had never articulated.

But what could you give back? Max had provided company betterment, empowering sex and vampiric immortality. What was your contribution to this relationship? Was Max a better vampire, being with you, when he could have any other vampire at his fingertips? Your cold dead heart beat a little less, with the knowledge that Max had infused your life with the passion and vitality of murderous lust, and you longed for some way to repay him. Yours was a strange tale of enigma and voracity, but compelling nonetheless.

Sitting at your high rise office, you chewed nervously at a Bic #2 Ticonderoga Pencil. What to give to the man who has everything? You mindlessly stood, unbidden, at your desk, feeling the throbbing urge of control, beckoning you to Max’s nearby office. You sighed with contentment, no longer fretting away the office hours in doldrum. What new adventure would Max have on the horizon? Afternoon delight? Company firings? The new delicatessen on Third and Main? The options were endless, as you mindlessly breezed through the hallway, catching your non-reflection in the glass covered entryway.

Enter.

This was the most seductive of intercoms, and you didn’t even need an office memo. You straightened your gray business skirt, hoisting your breasts up voluptuously, hoping that Max once again ripped through your new red negligee, specifically worn for this occasion. Jerking the door open you found him forebodingly poised behind the massive mahogany office desk, with his feet propped lazily upon it.

Shut the door.

You smiled mischievously, unable to contain your excitement. If HR knew about your particular situation…it wouldn’t matter whatsoever. They were vampires too. You hypnotically floated towards his desk, sinking into the thick leather chair and crossing your legs temptingly.

“Drink?” he finally intoned, motioning to the small bar available to his right.

“It’s 11am Max” you drawled, dangling your red stiletto heel loosely off the tip of your toe.

“Who the fuck cares?” he jested. “Never stopped us before” he motioned for you to grab him a snifter, as you felt your body drawn upwards, gravitating towards the golden liquid.

“Am I just operating as your waitress today, or did you NEED me for something else?” you questioned, adding ice to the small glass and pouring a shot.

“We have a new exciting opportunity in the Oregon offices and I didn’t want to send any lackey for such an auspicious occasion. I’d go myself, but let’s be honest; the office would completely run amok without my hand’s on attention…” he arrogantly boasted, patting his lap for your curvaceous body to sit atop.

You rolled your eyes dramatically, stuttering slightly in his direction and plopping down atop his eternally hard length. “Are you ever satiated?” you growled, tipping the golden liquid into his mouth as his eyes hungrily devoured the contours of your neck.

“Not around you, Buttercup” he snarled, his eyes flashing a mysterious red tint for one millisecond before downing the shot in one languid gulp.

“Any special instructions?” you whispered into his ear, rolling your hips slowly over his slacks and licking at his icy cold neck into the angular point of his knife-like jaw.

“Try not to have too much fun without me?” his eyebrows shot up as he pursed his lips in a feigned innocence, reaching into his desk for the first class ticket to Salem. You noticed your black negligee from last week’s business meeting, clandestinely housed in his office drawer.

“My drawers in your drawer?” you teased, batting your eyelashes sensuously. He growled into your neck, grazing his fangs over the feather light sensitivity of your skin.

“I can smell you from here” he moaned, aggressively pushing two fingers past the waistline of your skirt and digging into your hip.

“Max we don’t have time…” you pouted, already feeling the warm tentacles of his mind wrapping around your volition.

“As the Chief of Operations I encourage all of our employees to make time for important preparation and business acumen. Plus, I really wanna fuck you on this mahogany desk again…” Max smiled into your sternum, lifting you up and depriving you of your skirt in one fell motion.

You leaned back on the desk, spread eagle before him, as he reached for the intercom. “Janet, hold all my calls for the next 15 minutes…” he smirked, dragging his icy digits across the lips of your heat causing you to buck sporadically atop the pile of manilla folders and notebooks.

“The delegates from Microsoft are waiting for you in the foyer…” Janet’s tinny voice garbled from the desktop intercom.

“I SAID HOLD ALL MY FUCKING RESPONSIBILITIES, JANET!” Max yelled, loud enough for Janet to hear through the walls, let alone the crackling intercom.

“Got it, boss” Janet timidly replied as Max ripped the buttons of your suit jacket, exposing your new red lace negligee for his lustful eyes.

“Fuuuuuuck meeeee” he sighed, grabbing your knees and aggressively shoving them to either side.

“That’s my line” you gasped salaciously, feeling every thought ebb and flow out of your littered mind. This was the part you liked best. Sex before Max had always been a mental obstacle course of confusion and conflict. Now the only internal conflict was that you felt guilty about not feeling guilty. Surrendering your body and mind to Max’s control, was the most liberating sexual experience you ever had. You wished he could experience the same delights.

Sound.

A sinfully loud moan escaped your lips as Max thrust two powerful fingers inside you. You barely registered the embarrassment, as your mind absolved itself of all choice.

Enjoy yourself.

An electric shock of desire throbbed through your entire being as your body responded to his galvanizing hypnotic urges.

You’re going to cum. And you’re going to cum hard and fast.

You felt your body careening out of your control, heaving and pulsing around you in ripples as he circled your heat and your clit with expert motions. It was no secret that vampires were fast, but this was unexpected, even for you. You screamed euphorically as your orgasm hit you like a freight train, jettisoning your body into his powerful grasp in a full spasm of delight. He pumped his fingers through you slower and slower as tears ran down your face sloppily.

I’m thinking sushi for lunch, right? his voice echoed in your mind, which you barely acknowledged, smiling lazily and collapsing into his embrace, nodding in the affirmative.

Ah, the perks of being a CEO.

You trotted down the fairway, bright red suitcase in tow for the red eye. How appropriate. Clad in head to toe apparel to avoid even the smallest hint of sunlight you arrived in Salem, Oregon for the business conference Max had arranged for personnel development. You teetered off the evening flight at 3am in the morning, spotting a gaggle of giggling youth, dressed in witches costumes and goth-like makeup.

You grinned brusquely, remembering the time of year, and Salem’s claim to fame. Witches indeed, you reasoned, wondering what evening activities you might pursue, once your professional responsibilities were done. You spent the day alternating between Zoom sessions and indoor business meetings in the posh hotel located in downtown Salem. Prior to your metamorphoses you never would have thought vampirism to be maintainable, but Max had taught you the inner workings of the coven lifestyle, and you had taken to it remarkably fast. Never a morning person, and already partial to black, the only sacrifice had been your veganism which made a sad departure. As the day’s activities came to an end, you changed into jeans and a maroon top, eager to explore the mysteries of Salem night life and take in the cities charms.

You drifted into a lazy pub crawl, followed by a night tour of historical Salem locations. Looking around at the eclectic group, you saw more witches, ghouls and Halloween vampires, toting plastic jack o’lanterns and cheap broomsticks. The tour guide theatrically droned, “A majority of people accused and convicted of witchcraft were nearly 80% women. The belief was that women were inherently sinful and more susceptible to damnation than men were. Women's souls were seen as unprotected in their so-called "weak and vulnerable bodies". Some likely believed they had truly given in to the Devil, however some women might have confessed in order to spare their own lives. Women who did not conform to the norms of society were more likely to be the target of an accusation, especially those who were unmarried or did not have children….”.

You pursed your lips cynically. Check and check. A slinky black cat materialized in your path, weaving its slinky body between your ankles and trotting down the nearby alley. A flash of light caught your eye as you thought you observed a young, lanky teenage girl with flaxen hair beckoning to you conspiratorially.

You already had dinner, but you were intrigued. Watching the tour guide lead your small group in the opposite direction, you headed towards the darkened alley as the lithe, fairy like creature summoned you to a small apothecary like entryway. The cat’s feathery black tale disappeared inside the stoney residence, as a small bell cheerily chimed in welcome. Max had told you to enjoy yourself, and you were very good at taking direction. You hesitantly poised at the doorway, curious for where the evening’s events were taking you. Opening the door lightly you were immediately greeted by billowy plumes of lavender, soil, eucalyptus, and a myriad of fragrances you couldn’t immediately place.

The darkened apothecary was cheery in demeanor, as a bristling fire hummed at the hearth, and an old tape recorder from the 20th century was playing a frothing beat of Alanis Morisette. You took in the twinkling wind chimes and bowl of crystals, looking around the room in wonder. There was something vibrational about the atmosphere, and you wondered if vampires had found themselves in the previous trials and tribulations of Salem. The cat mysteriously re-appeared at the front desk, as the waif like teenager popped up from behind the cash register.

“How might I assist, young one?” she melodically questioned, drawing her fingers across the purring feline and gesturing around the incense filled room. You quirked your head confusedly, wondering at her demographic. Young one? You were easily 20 years her senior, but there was a maturity about her that distorted the atmosphere around her. You stepped up to the counter, gazing at the cornucopia of enigmatic items sprawled out before you.

“You are special” she ventured, gazing appraisingly into your eyes and biting her lower lip. “Many lives reside inside of you…” she enigmatically prophecied, breathing deeply and looking over a small library at her fingertips. You swallowed dryly, feeling somewhat naked and observed as her fingers danced lightly over the various books and scrolls in the glass case. “Might I offer you some light reading material?” she asked, selecting a small black book that seemed to be archaic and from a bygone era.

“Please” you rasped, becoming slightly intoxicated with the heady shop fumes and humming thrum of the black cat, butting its head up against your chest.

“It’s on the house” she inexplicably offered, her eyes flashing a millisecond of green before disappearing up the stairwell, the cat scampering after her playfully. You fingered the edges of the antiquated text with curiosity as Alanis Morisette sang,

“You're essentially my employee and I like you having to depend on me. You’re kind of my protege and one day, you’ll say you learned all you know from me. I know you depend on me like a young thing would to a guardian I know you sexualize me like a young thing would and I think I like it…”.

Tucking yourself into the nook of the first class recliner, you fingered the glowing incantations beneath your hand. You were delighted to discover their pulsing energy as you ran your fingertips over the delicate embossing. What did this mean? You tried to pronounce the Latin and French dialects under your breath, and felt a strange warmth emanating from your chest like a tether.

Almost immediately, the person opposite you in the aisle sat bolt upright, eyes ablaze and then sank back in their own recliner, asleep again.

That was odd, you mused. What did that young waif mean by “many lives lived”? Was she referring to reincarnation? Did she somehow sense your vampiric energy? You had to admit, even during your collegiate years, you had always possessed a preternatural ability to sway individuals to your willpower. You had always interpreted it as leadership ability, and meeting Max had upended any previous assumptions about life in general. But was there more to your diverse and unique existence than anyone had surmised? Is there a world where you were both a vampire AND a burgeoning witch? You clasped the book tenderly to your chest. There was only one way to find out.

Relishing in the clickety clack of your stilleto’d heels you paraded into the offices for the evening shift. You were excited to regale Max with your Salem adventures, and curious if he would notice a difference in your general demeanor. You’d taken it as a good sign that several neighborhood cats had crossed your path upon arrival, but it seemed too good to be expected. Could one woman be so benefitted in their life, as to experience TWO supernatural events in one existence? Only time would tell, as you jerked the large door open and confidently strutted into your CEO persona.

The office was a flurry of activity as vampiric energy raged brightest in the evening hours. You had no sooner deposited yourself in your office, then a magnetic pull alerted you to Max’s desires.

Come to me.

Your heart fluttered in nervous anticipation, smoothing the gray pant suit that was covering a newly purchased pink negligee. At this rate, you would need to liquidate Victoria’s Secret if Max insisted on his unsatiated passions. No matter. Perhaps you could quell the tide, or at least give Max a taste of his own prowess. You languidly drifted down the hallway and paused at his office door.

Enter.

Smiling broadly, you found Max curiously unaltered, seemingly sitting in exactly the same position and in exactly the same suit, knowing that he wore the same apparel everyday to work. You poured yourself into the leather chair opposite him, noting a quirky expression dotting his eyebrows.

“You seem different” he bluntly stated, licking his lips dryly and flashing the smallest portion of his porcelain veneered fangs.

“I enjoyed my trip tremendously, and I’m excited to share some of the new professional skills I’ve acquired…” you began.

“Would you…?” cutting Max off at the onset you made a beeline for the bar, interrupting him.

“Would you like a drink?” you questioned, pouring one for yourself first.

Max bit his lip voraciously, eyeing the curvature of your fit, bloodthirsty body. “Thought you’d never ask” he quipped, enthusiastically leaping to his feet, and sidling up behind you seductively. He drew a line of tickling fancy with his nose along your shoulder blade, as you drolly poured two glasses of whiskey.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever thanked you for the professional acumen and killer instinct you’ve instilled in me during our time together” you teased, offering him the liquid courage, and mentally refreshing your incantations.

“It was nothing” Max bantered, downing the drink in one rapacious gulp and digging his fingers into the meat of your ass. “I know a good opportunity when I see one” he boasted, lining his hips up with yours and bumping his length against your pubic bone.

Get on the couch.

You gasped slightly, his voice echoing particularly loudly in your ears at this close proximity. His eyes flashed bright red before dulling to a sexual glaze. This was it. If you had the ability to give Max some of the fortitude he had so richly provided you, your life was about to become even more varied than you could have believed. Sauntering over to the leather chaise you flung your high heels into the corner and began unzipping the back of your pantsuit. Max removed his suit jacket quickly, standing above you poised to pounce. Something about his demeanor looked particularly stressed, and you wondered if your absence had contributed to the force of his desperation.

Get on your knees.

Feeling the seductive threads of his hypnotic stare, you closed your eyes to focus your full mental willpower on your response.

You first.

You thought you heard the slightest trace of Max gasping, wondering if you had been remotely successful in your first attempt. Fluttering your eyelids slightly and gazing up at him with curiosity, you noticed his eyes dilate to full crimson lust.

“What did you say?” he whispered, pausing his sexual armada just long enough to undo his leather belt with a swift motion, holding it in one hand.

Get on YOUR knees, you countered, suddenly flush with the thrill of possible empowerment. You caught the slightest stutter in his gait as he braced himself against the couch indeterminately.

Max’s mouth dropped open ever so slightly, dragging a finger across your bottom lip imploringly. You felt the tendrils of Max’s mind control begin to thread through your personhood, almost as though holding hands with your newfound mental abilities. It was a curious wrestling match of intimacy as you mentally grasped one another tenaciously.

I said, GET ON YOUR KNEES, you thrust the full force of your mental acuity across the chasm-like mindscape, hearing the smallest of whimpers escape from Max’s throat.

A moan hovered at the entrance of his mouth as you closed your eyes and muttered the first incantation you had attempted earlier that day.

Hearing a soft thud, you opened your eyes to see Max’s shining countenance, hovering just below your face, from the floor below. His Adam’s Apple dipped noiselessly in his throat as he began panting doggedly.

“What are you doing?” he whispered, unzipping his pants slowly and furrowing his brow determinedly. “Is that you?” he begged, a small smirk teasing at the corners of his fanged mouth.

Pleasure yourself, you commanded, drunk with the power lust of newfound passion, and excited to finally give Max the equality he so readily deserved.

With lightning speed, he removed his length from his boxer briefs and began pumping with abandon, lolling his head back in pleasure and allowing you to hold his torso in place with his tie.

More sound, you growled internally hearing a desperate cry of euphoria escape his liberated lips as he pumped more furiously. “Thank youuuuuu” he droned, giving in to the orgasmic energy pulsing over his exhausted frame.

Cum for me, you commanded, uttering a quick incantation under your breath for added effect watching his delighted reaction coupled with moans and cries of exuberance. You pulled his body into your embrace, waiting for him to catch his breath and steady himself. Feeling his body finally relax against you, you sighed with relief as he nipped the smallest of bites at your neck, drawing a trickle of blood down your sternum.

“Did you like that?” you batted your eyelashes, gazing into the red of his pupils blown wide with desire. Lapping up the honeyed sweetness of your blood he moaned emphatically into your neck, as you bit at his shoulder blade.

Hissing with pleasure he shuddered in your embrace, pulling back with newly discovered respect and admiration. “Professional development is so fucking essential for workplace morale” he observed, flashing his fangs attractively and smashing his lips into yours with a passionate kiss.

*thanks @thecutestgrotto for the cool dividers

Tags

smut halloween spooky season pedro pascal witchcraft interview with the vampire discovery of witches pedro pascal characters max phillips max phillips x reader pedro pedro pascal fan fiction pedro pascal fan fic blood sucking bastards

Moody Fall

Grump. I is in a bad mood. Here are some pretty pictures for me and anyone else in a bad mood. Now...I am in a slightly better mood. Hmph.

Tags

pedro pascal agent whiskey pedro

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pedges-world

6 months ago

Pike's Place Die Hard

This is it! The culmination of the last few months and we've finally arrived at this Christmas reveal. It wasn't until @burntheedges "Roll-a-Trope Challenge" that I managed to really sink my teeth into this delectable treat. What a delightful slow burn Winter Series with the assist of @inept-the-magnificent!

Triggers: finally, the smut we all deserve, profanity, emergency survival situation, sexy time confusion, reference to hysterectomy/pandemic, safe P in V, angsty angst and so much crying, you won't be disappointed...

Word Count: 12k (I don't know what happened...)

Series Masterlist

Hearing your feet crunch amidst the steadily falling snow, you squinted cautiously as Pike teetered precariously on a ladder against the cabin. Willing a Christmas Miracle of the grandest proportions you prayed that this was not the end, but only the beginning. Turning back to face the roaring ember which was once the woodshed, you were momentarily grateful for the heated repose. But it was only a matter of time before the blaze died down, and you and Pike found yourselves back in the apocalyptic blizzard that threatened more than your holiday plans.

Shifting uncomfortably in the icy winds, you rubbed your hands together, blowing into them for warmth and taking stock of the last 24 hours. The electricity was out. The generator had gone up in flames. Lacking reception and facing the quandary of downed telephone lines and crippled power cables you gazed dejectedly at Bessie the Hyundai who anthropomorphically sighed fifty feet down the road. The final straw had been the carbon monoxide poisoning. Your eyes shot back to Pike who was helplessly attempting to clear a large oak which had unceremoniously teetered into the side of the cabin, effectively covering the chimney and your final source of heat.

Well, maybe not the final source.

Pike shook his head in defeat, returning the ladder to its resting place and joining you aside the flickering flame, which had steadily diminished. The blizzard was determined to extinguish your dwindling sense of hope, if not your lives in the process. Anticipating his return, you marveled at his MacGyver-like repair of the shattered foyer window. You couldn’t be more grateful that your travels had brought you to Pike’s Place. You just wondered if the journey were ending so much sooner than either of you had intended.

Pike strode up beside you, bumping into your shoulder good naturedly and shouting above the din of the conflagration and freezing gales. “IT’S NO USE!” he shouted into your ear, wrapping a protective arm around your shoulder and swaying slightly against the icy, buffeting winds. “I CAN’T CLEAR ENOUGH OF THE LIMBS FOR US TO USE THE CHIMNEY! WE NEED ELECTRICITY IF WE’RE GOING TO SURVIVE!” You nodded in affirmation, already feeling the stinging affect of the frigidity against your cheeks and lips as the fire died down. “LET’S GET YOU INSIDE!” he exclaimed, taking your hand in his and trudging back to the stilled cabin. It might be cold, but at least it could shelter you from what was about to come. Pike kicked the door open with a flurry of wind and snow as you stooped down to light the remaining emergency candles that had blown out in the preceding minutes. Although immediately grateful for the cessation of the squall, an empty chill began to permeate your bones as Pike gathered the water, rations, pillows and blankets beside the now obsolete fireplace. Gazing over at the once happy Christmas Tree you both paused to catch your breath and assess the situation. Looking around you at the shattered window and Pike’s steely expression you felt a maelstrom of grief wash over you. Hugging yourself tightly you began to cry quietly as Pike’s face crumpled in empathy.

“Pink” he began, rushing to your side as you buried your face in his chest, your body quivering with emotion. “Sh…sh…it’s going to be okay. We’re going to get out of this. I’m going to get us out of this” he promised, swaying from side to side and stroking your hair gently. “I thought you told me excessive crying was off limits…for hydration sake” he managed to eek out, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“O-only g-gingers are a-allowed to c-cryyyy…” you began to wail helplessly, as Pike chuckled into the crown of your head. “W-we exc-cel at d-dramatic bursts of energy…” you hiccuped, feeling your body relax in Pike’s embrace.

“That’s perfect. That’s just what we need to get this electricity going again” Pike hummed, pulling back to lift your chin with two, frosted fingers. “Take a deep breath for me, please?” he encouraged, rubbing warming circles into your back soothingly.

“O-one, I can h-hear the sounds of the wind outside…” you started, taking in Pike’s puzzled expression. “F-five s-senses…” you sniffled as Pike nodded in affirmation. “T-two…I can…s-see our b-beautiful C-Christmas Treeeeeeeee…” at this a fresh bout of sobs threatened your precarious self-control as Pike hugged you tightly, heading back to the fireplace as your legs dangled against his body loosely.

“And what can you smell?” he offered, carefully setting you down on the pile of pillows and blankets and reaching for a water bottle beside you.

“I c-can smell…” you paused, your face reddening slightly with the admission. “I can s-smell your…aftershave…and cologne…” you hiccuped again, biting back a small giggle of relief as Pike smiled humorously.

“Water, please” he unscrewed the top, tilting it towards your mouth and coaxing you to drink some carefully. Heaving a heavy sigh of concern he let you drink your fill, and then brought the water bottle to his own lips intimately. You reached out to touch his face, drawing your fingers over the stubble of his chin, and upwards to caress the wisps of hair framing his features. You sat together, slowly lowering your foreheads to one another, your breaths punctuated in the cold by plumes of warmth.

“What can you taste?” Pike finally rasped, eyes still closed in quiet contentment. Without thinking you feverishly pressed your lips to his, a new heat burgeoning in your core. You felt your lips melt into his, the sharp tingle of cold dissipating against the soft yearning of his kiss. His chiseled jaw worked against yours, parting your lips languidly for his tongue to enter. Merry fucking Christmas. This was the best blizzard you had ever endured. Lazy thoughts entered your mind for a millisecond before slowly drifting out as you enjoyed the warmth and affection of one another for what felt like hours. Breaking apart to catch your breath, you noticed a small bead of sweat condense at the corner of Pike’s forehead, reaching up to catch the single salty droplet you seductively brought it to your mouth, swallowing with intensity.

“And what can be touched?” you whispered, looking deeply into the swirling vortex of Pike’s sentimental eyes, which were slowly darkening in hue and desire. His Adam’s apple bobbed hungrily in his throat as he placed a hand across your sternum, feeling the thrumming flutter of your excited heart.

“I’m thinking of a way we can stay warm” he began, fingering the dangling zipper of your pink snowsuit.. “For survival?” he smiled self-deprecatingly, hoping this suggestion fell under the heading of Emergency Techniques 101.

You felt your cheeks blush under the steady lust of his gaze, lowering yourself down to the floor and beckoning him to lay beside you. “Have negotiations begun?” you grinned forlornly, wishing you found yourselves at a quiet, candle-lit dinner instead of fighting for your very lives.

“Does it help to say that I’ve been tested?” Pike blurted out, furrowing his brows in consternation. This was not his usual art of seduction, and he winced at the transactional directionality of the conversation.

“You watch your dirty mouth” you pouted, pinching Marcus at the stomach and enjoying his beleaguered expression.

“I’m sorry, I just want you to be comfortable…” he confessed, tilting his face to the side and watching your face for micro-expressions. “It seems to me body heat can be JUST that. It doesn’t have to be anything more…I think I can…control myself…” Pike admitted, biting his lower lip in supplication. This was a bizarre situation, to say the least.

“Well I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t…curious about the possibilities” you pondered. “It wasn’t a few hours ago I was flinging myself at you on the couch”. Pike grinned knowingly, teasing the zipper down an inch. “And in all honesty…I don’t kiss just ANYONE on the Art Squad”.

Pike nodded his head with feigned sobriety, lowering your zipper down to your navel, his pupils dilating with passion. “We’re not gonna do anything you don’t want…” his eyes shot up to yours questioningly, as you squinted back.

“Oh I want this” you cajoled, beginning to strip Pike of his winter jacket and pawing at the buttons on his sweater. You both raised yourself up on your knees, quickly peeling the layers back in the steadily dropping temperature of the cabin, and pausing to note the huffs of pluming passion contrasted in the night air.

“Are we doing this?” Pike questioned, unsure where to look or where to put his hands in this bizarre circumstance.

“I’m n-not…s-sure, but let’s do something before hypothermia sets in” your teeth chattered comically as a wave of shivers passed over your body.

Pike quickly pulled his sweater up and over his head revealing his honeyed and immediately prickling skin, as you brought your hands up to his broad shoulders. “What first?” he implored, desperation dotting his tone. You couldn’t be sure if it was the fire of passion or the frigidity of the cold, but either would do. Taking a millisecond to admire the warmth of his skin and his plush lower lip, you stalled in overwhelm.

“I don’t k-know I’ve never had sex in an apocalypse b-before!” you admitted self-deprecatingly. “Gawd, it’s been forever since I just had regular sex too!” you giggled, drawing your torso closer to his.

“This is maybe the worst seduction in human history, but I’m pretty sure we want to start with skin to skin contact…” Pike surmised, his eyes widening as he took in your curving frame. “C-can I…uh…touch you?”.

“I’m about to turn into a p-popsicle if you don’t!” you shuddered, smiling affectionately.

“Okay…here I come?” Pike questioned rapidly, lightly drawing his fingers around your waist and neck and drawing your body close to his, as tenderly as urgency would allow. You laughed in surprise as Pike’s tingling, cold fingers melted into your skin cautiously, immediately warming to the touch.

“C-cumming already? That was fast!” you joked, trying to quiet the small convulsions of your body soaking in the heat of Pike’s torso, accidentally knocking your hips against his awkwardly.

“I’m nothing if not enthusiastic” Pike disclosed, a crooked smile turning up the corners of this mouth. Pike started rubbing your back heatedly, attempting to draw more circulation, and you mirrored his pursuits. You rubbed up against his stubbled cheek, turning into his neck.

“You smell n-nice” you encouraged, moving your hands lower down to Pike’s waist and beginning to notice his semi-hard length bumping against your hip.

“Oh gawd, you smell amazing…” Pike moaned into your hair, trying to pace himself for whatever you preferred. “Is this better?” he asked, his movements slowing and broadening as the temperature began to increase incrementally.

“I think s-so?” you pondered, feeling your core warming with the sensation of human contact. It had been so long. You quite nearly forgot what it was like to enjoy someone’s body, or even your own, but you felt yourself starting to detach with the emotional over-stimulation. “C-can we just…maybe…hold each other for a while?” you winced, embarrassed at the seemingly infantile tone of voice, as Pike pulled back to look into your eyes and cup your face in his warming hands.

“We can do whatever you want…This moment is all about you…and any ‘us’ that you want”. The sincerity in Pike’s look was immediately disarming and grounding you to the moment, however bizarre it seemed. “Come here…” Pike pulled a blanket from beside you, up and over your heads, cocooning you in a soft tent. Wrapping your legs around his and intertwining as much as possible, Marcus drew his arms under the snowsuit against your bare back as you cradled your face into his neck. “We can just stay like this…” Pike suggested, trying to focus on the hardness of the cabin’s floor and not the burgeoning hardness of his length, as your lace covered, plush breasts were pressed against his chest. He took several stilling breaths as your bodies melted together softly, the warmth of your togetherness already exponentially expanding.

You attempted to mirror his breathing to quiet your own and soon found a contentedness in the humanity of the moment. The circumstances might have been odd, but the validity of your emotion was very real. You wanted this. You wanted him. And you wanted to survive. After a few minutes Pike’s voice cut through the silence, “Is this the part where I make a joke about how the cold might affect a hypothetical individual’s…um…girth?” his body tittered humorously, desperately trying to put you and himself at ease.

You shifted your head to admire his side profile and cinnamon skin, as your eyebrows shot up to your forehead. Reaching down, very carefully, your fingers ghosted over his hardening length, as it twitched under your grasp. You gulped loudly, suddenly concerned, “Uh, Pike…I haven’t done this in a while, but given our current circumstances, I’m not sure that’s the main challenge…” your eyes widened in comprehension. Pike buried his face into your chest, sighing heavily.

“Oh boy…I really like the color pink…” he mumbled into your breasts, as you rolled your eyes jovially at the admission.

“Well that’s good, so long as I don’t start turning blue…” you smirked, delighted that Pike seemed as eager as you were.

“I mean…I don’t wanna get ahead of myself…I don’t even have any condoms…” Pike groaned with forced chastity, swallowing hard against your sternum as he peppered kisses up to your neck. Your body froze, with more than the cold, as Pike pulled back to appraise your reaction.

“I’m sorry, was that a ridiculous assumption on my part?” he questioned, looking into your eyes for clarity. You bit your lower lip awkwardly, desperate to confide in him, but hesitant to broach the topic at this juncture. “Hey…It’s just me. It’s just us…” he stopped all of his ministrations, his breath fanning across your face soothingly. God, his lips were gorgeous. You couldn’t hardly concentrate on anything else. The explosion, the storm, the carbon monoxide poisoning…and all you could think about were this man’s lips.

“You won’t need a condom” your voice started to disappear, hoping you could convey the logistics of the moment, and still maintain the intimacy that teetered so precariously.

“Copy that” Pike tried to hide his disappointment, his eyes lowering to the ground respectfully and loosening his grasp with delicacy.

“No, no…I just mean…um…I had a…before the pandemic I needed…” you sighed with frustration and a modicum of defeat. “I had a hysterectomy” you pouted, embarrassed at the blunt revelation. Pike’s eyes registered a new softness as he tilted his head to look at your more closely.

“Are you…okay, now?” he sensitively probed. “Does that mean you don’t want to…?”

“OH I WANT” you clasped your hand over your mouth with chagrin as your cheeks reddened with self-consciousness. Pike chuckled, drawing his fingers up to your hand and taking it in his.

“There’s that pink…” he brushed his finger against your cheek, beaming affectionately. “Do you…want to show me?” he asked quizzically, unsure of his footing, but determined to provide whatever support he could, amidst the peculiar circumstances.

“Yes please…” you whispered, taking his hand and drawing it down the front of your body. Pike’s breath froze in the moment as you drew his fingers between your breasts rapturously, down your abdomen and lowering them just above your pubic bone. “Feel that?…” you asked, dragging his fingers across the feather-link pinkened scar, watching Pike’s mouth drop open with yearning. A small whimper left his lips as you drew his fingers lower still towards your heat. “Feel this?…” you probed, moving his digits over the wet patch of your underwear, as Pike’s fingers twitched involuntarily, eliciting an intake of air from you both.

“Is that for me?” Pike groaned, lowering his head into your neck and cupping your groin with his palm.

“Ohhhhhh shit….” you sighed. “Based on your…bearing…I think it might be primarily for ME, so you don’t split me in half” silently wondering how worried you should be.

“I can go slow” Pike gulped, relatively certain he spoke the truth. His enthusiasm had always seemed his downfall, but this moment was all about you. Your body. Your pleasure. Your survival. Your hips bucked up into his hand as his fingers ghosted over your clit, the fabric of your underwear creating a delicious friction.

“Oh gawd!” you squeaked, immediately self-conscious, but starting to focus on the burning hunger pulsing within you, and not the dire circumstances swirling outside.

“Oh God, good? Or oh God, bad?” Pike questioned, feathering his fingers over your heat in exploration.

“Ohhhhhhhh” you managed to get out before your eyelids fluttered closed in submission. Jesus Christ you should get snowed in more often. Oh. So much of the last four years felt like an emotional wasteland of desperation. Oh. All of it was crashing down with each healing pulse of Pike’s fingers. Oh. Over. And over. And over. Your mind was completely blank with pleasure, whitewashed as the pristine snow outside. Oh. Oh. Oh. You grabbed at whatever purchase you could find, the loop of his sweatpants, the heated forearm that slipped from your grasp…finally moving your hands upward to your own temples and dragging your fingers across your scalp. You thought you might shatter underneath the immediate intimacy of the moment, listening to Pike’s heavy breathing and trying to keep your eyes open in awareness.

“Honey, you’ve gotta talk to me, I’m flying blind here…” Pike pleaded, grinding his hips painfully into the side of yours and swallowing back his desperation.

It was all so much. You hadn’t been with anyone in years, and the sensations were so heightened in this surreal landscape, you felt like your body was euphorically careening out of control. If this was how you entered immortality, you could definitely think of worse ways to go. But there was a smaller, indulgent part of you that somehow wanted more. You didn’t know how you could want more than eternity, but you wanted to enjoy him. This was about so much more than survival. You wanted to enjoy your own humanity, and somehow, it was all slipping away from you. You wanted to give yourself, mind, soul and personhood to the beautiful man wrapped pliantly around your quivering form, but how could you give something that was spiraling out of your own consciousness?

“Pleeeeease…” you whined, arching your back off the ground and into Pike’s undulating body.

“Please what, honey? Tell me what you need…” Pike groaned into your ear, splaying a hand across your back.

The devastating reality crashed around you and before you could think, you heard your own faltering voice utter the word, “Stop”. You were eons away from your own self, but desperate to stay fully present in Pike’s passionate grasp. Marcus froze, pulling his hand away and looking deeply into your countenance with a confused expression.

“Stop? Did you say stop?” Pike whispered, drawing both hands up to your face and jolting you out of your disorienting reverie. With a gasp of stark realization, your eyes shot open in surprise, as you felt the unyielding support of the hard wooden floor beneath you. Every sense came rushing back in a myriad of confusing palettes. The cold, tingling ice hovering just outside your cozy cocoon. The heat of Pike’s breath, shuddering against your own. The sharp musk of your own arousal, buttering Pike’s fingers. And the salty release of your own tumult, bubbling to the surface in wracking sobs.

“I’m soooooorrry!” you wailed quietly, your mouth falling open in a silent cry, utilizing the entire force of your body to smash Marcus towards you abruptly. Gripping Pike aggressively with your legs you squeezed his torso towards you, pressing his hardened length into your hip, as he winced with sensitivity. You grabbed the back of his neck, digging your fingers into his hair and pulling tautly, feeling his entire body stiffen with confusion and slowly melt back into you with supplication.

“Wt’s h’ppng?” Pike mumbled awkwardly into your chest as your hiccups slowly morphed into clumsy laughter, shaking your head in disbelief. What were you doing? What kind of Hallmark movie special was this? You suddenly laughed out loud thinking of the incredulity of a National Geographic episode documenting this fumbling attempt at survival.

“Okay, we’re laughing, that’s good…I think? I feel like there are some…conflicting messages here…” Pike hesitantly started smiling with you, as his body relaxed fully into yours. “That wasn’t…” Pike squeezed himself out of your vice like grip just far enough to look into your face impishly. “Was that good for you?” he teased, contorting his face in a ridiculous expression.

‘Oh, my love!” you exclaimed, immediately clapping your hand over your mouth and dissolving into another fit of giggles. Pike’s face exploded into the light of a thousand stars with the possibility of your unheeded admission, collapsing his body weight back into you with relief and continued incredulity.

“I don’t understand what’s happening here, but I’m here for it” Pike confessed, shaking his head confusedly and stroking your hair with tenderness. “I seem to have a confusing affect on women…” he self-deprecatingly offered, struggling to understand the nuances of your unspoken reaction, and beginning to wipe the tears from your face.

“I’m…sorry…let me…see if I can explain” your laughter calmed down a bit as Pike patiently waited for your next move. In the interim, his gaze longingly drifted over your exposed form as he shut his eyes tightly, his body immediately reacting against you.

“Grandma Pike, Grandma Pike, Grandma Pike…” he started repeating, laughing to himself ashamedly, as you erupted into another fit of tittering. You both took a moment to breath, a thin sheen of perspiration already cooling against your goose-bumped skin.

“Why are you so amazing?” you finally asked, drawing your hands around his back and pressing your lips lightly to his. Humming into his mouth, you abandoned yourself to the contented sensations as your body regulated itself back to normalcy. After a few minutes, Pike paused to catch his breath, stretching out his arm for you to cradle your head against.

“Are we feeling warmer?” he sighed, turning his head towards you and smiling dopily.

“Oh yes, I’m definitely aglow with the Christmas spirit” you observed, turning a new idea around in your mind seductively. “Ummm…you know, turns out even during an apocalyptic blizzard, I seem to move slow as molasses”.

Pike interrupted with an exhortation of support. “It’s really fine” he drawled “ You know, sometimes I still feel so adolescent. Having you here, in my arms. I’m the luckiest guy in the world…” he grinned, the dimples in his cheeks cutting a devastating profile in the cabin’s candlelight. You sighed contentedly in his embrace, wrapping yourself in the cozy safety of one another. Listening to the bickering winds outside, you thought you could almost hear the strong pulse of Pike’s heartbeat beside you. Grounding you. Magnetically pulling you. Centering you.

“What if you got lucky in more ways than one?” you asked, drawing a finger lazily across Pike’s honeyed chest. Marcus paused, unsure of your meaning. “What if we just did YOU, tonight?” you bluntly offered, a devilish grin beginning to grace the corners of your mouth. Pike seemed to stall in confusion, finally sitting bolt upright and taking the blanket’s warmth with him in a tent of surprise. “PIKE!” you shouted, grabbing at his blanketed form and beckoning him back to the soft chrysalis of your own body. Pike wrapped you up in a tight embrace as you both snickered together.

“I can’t do that, Pink” he chuckled bashfully. The lady always cums first” he cast his eyes downward shyly, but nodding definitively.

“But what if…I asked? What if that’s what I wanted?” you timidly bit your lower lip, unsure if your request would resonate with him at all. Pike swallowed hard, his eyes widening to large saucers as he inquisitively stroked the sides of your face. “It might take me a minute to figure out what I want, but when I do…” you let the statement hang in the air openly.

“We’ll go slow?” Pike finally rasped, drawing a forefinger across your lower lip tentatively.

“Mmmm…slow” you repeated, dragging your hands down the front of his body and reaching his hips.

“I don’t wanna hurt you” he moaned into your chest, desperately trying to slow the yearnings of his body, but being unsuccessful.

“I think you’ve primed me MORE than enough, Art Squad” you agreed, feeling the sticky arousal of your own passions. Pulling Pike’s face into both hands you gulped sardonically, “FOR SURVIVAL”.

Pike returned the smile, “FOR SURVIVAL”. Moving his hands between your tangled bodies, he felt the slick of your heat between his fingers, groaning softly to himself with appreciation. Shifting his body to meet yours he removed his length from his pants, pumping himself a few times with your arousal. “Ready?” he winced, steeling himself for the entry.

“Ready or not, here we cum?” you tried to joke, breathing deeply in anticipation. Pike’s eyes were trained on you fixedly as he notched himself at your entrance. Your mouth fell open in awareness as he inched himself into you, achingly slowly. A whine caught in his throat as he gave himself over to the nestled feeling of your core pulsing around him. You realized you were holding your breath and tried to relax in his embrace, as you opened your eyes, taking in the euphoric expression painted across his face.

“Are you okay?” Pike hissed in through his mouth pointedly as you shifted your hips beneath him. Pausing in acceptance, you drew his shivering body towards you, erotically pulling your nails across his broad back.

“I’m here” you whispered into his ear, indulging in the connection of the moment, the world finally stilling around you. At peace. Calm. And alive. Oh so very alive.

“I’m not going to last long…” Pike gritted his teeth stubbornly, his brow furrowed in concentration one second, and relaxation the next.

“You’ve got me” you inhaled, the heat of your bodies sticking to one another with newfound perspiration, melting like two icicles in the warmth. Pike pulled out at least half way before slowly re-entering your body as tenderly as he could. You both moaned synergistically.

“Again” you pleaded, drinking in the indulgent expression on Pike’s countenance. He repeated his movements, gaining a rhythm in pulsing clarity.

“More” you encouraged, feeling his biceps taut beneath your fingertips, salty sweat dotting his forehead. Focusing completely on his reactions, his groans of pleasure and the beauty of his body, you felt yourself swept away in intimacy. Here, together, at the end of the world. There was no place you would rather be.

“Oh…please…” Pike whined, his gyrations powerful and languid, starting to falter with the effort of restraint. “Where do you want me?” he managed to ask through bouts of delight.

“I want everything” you growled, your focus a pinpoint of realization, heightened awareness to the pout of his lips, the crinkle in the corners of his eyes. “In me. Inside” you grasped at a hidden assertion you’d never previously articulated. “Cum for me” you begged, grasping his backside with both of your hands and drawing his hips towards you further.

Pike groaned loudly, finally giving in to the powerful urges, pulsing and stuttering within you as you fluttered around him. Feeling his entire body convulse against you was like a beam of light penetrating the darkness of the night. There was no storm. No cabin. No Pike. No you. Just Love. Enveloped in the warmth of love, you felt your heart blossom and expand within you. Love. Love. Love. It was a strange death of self, offering an almost immediate and illumined rebirth. Somehow, everything was going to be alright. You didn’t understand the details, and in this moment, you didn’t care. You were together, and that was all that mattered.

Pike finally stilled, collapsing his weight gently atop you as you gripped him with your knees. Drawing your fingers up and through his hair you felt his heartbeat pounding wildly against your chest, calmed by his deep breathing and smiling contentedly to yourself. Marcus moaned happily into your sternum, swallowing dryly as you wiped a small bead of sweat from the corner of his hairline.

He suddenly sat up, bleary eyed and swaying, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” he gulped, blinking quickly and trying to focus on your dazed expression underneath the pile of blankets you were swathed beneath.

“Honey, if this is how you treat ALL the visitors at Pike’s Place, you’ve got a gold star establishment on your hands…” you teased, gripping his backside and squeezing tightly, feeling him twitch within you. Marcus hissed inward, eyelids half mast in euphoria, easing himself back atop you tenderly.

“On my hands and in my arms…” he mumbled, burying his face into your bosom and peppering feather-light kisses across your breasts affectionately. You chuckled with delight, listening to the swirling winds outside, and feeling PIke’s broad shoulders caging you in. Forming sweeping circles against his back, you relished in the incremental nuances of his relaxation, finally seeing his forehead devoid of worry and concern, as his breathing slowed to a steady, soothing rhythm. You kissed him tenderly at the crown of his head, surprised at how warm it had actually become. Survival 101 indeed.

Fairly certain that Pike was drifting off to sleep, you didn’t want to move a muscle. Housed in the contented cocoon of your sweetly entangled bodies, within the eye of the storm, you felt as though your emotions, your very soul had expanded beyond the cozy confines of the moment. Feeling the juxtaposition of Pike’s relaxed body, anchoring you to the floor, you mirrored his deep breathing, grounding yourself in the beautiful intimacy that two individuals can experience together, for so much more than survival. Keeping your body perfectly still your eyes tried to take in Marcus’ profile, serenely placid amidst the outside, buffeting winds, protected securely against your supple form. In your tender embrace you promised to care for this man the way he had cared for you. Whatever the future held, the experience of Love was transformational, allowing for so much more than just humanity’s survival. It was infinite. It was eternal. And you somehow felt as though you sacredly held it, in the palm of your hand.

Shaking your head slightly with chagrin, you watched Pike’s eyelids flutter in sleep, magnetically drawn into your own dreamscape. Silly thoughts for a silly girl, you mused. Talk about afterglow. And why not? In the place of a cheery hearth, the fire of your heart had ignited into a flame of more than just passion. You were basking in the very flame of Love; alight with the depth of Light itself.

You sighed contentedly with the re-discovery. It really is a wonderful life…

5-4-3-2-1…HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! The crowd was shouting euphorically around you as the familiar refrain of “Auld Lang Syne” played in the background, but you and Pike might as well have still been in the cozy cabin. Locked in one another’s embrace for the last hour on the dance floor, you couldn’t immediately pinpoint the difference between kissing and not kissing, the entire affair felt like a beautiful bubble of effervescence. You and Marcus kept swaying from side to side, looking deeply into one another’s eyes and not saying a word. You couldn’t believe how quickly the time had gone, here, in Washington D.C. With him. Seeing the massive building of the CIA Art Squad Division. Dropping into the Smithsonian every lunch break during your short visit to the East Coast. Ordering in Thai Food and watching old movies every evening, before making out or making love. It was like something from a Hallmark Movie, and it turned out, it wasn’t just limited to apocalyptic circumstances, or the cozy cocoon of Pike’s Place. It all felt like a dream, and a dream that was going to be ending far too soon.

“What are you thinking about” Pike mouthed, amidst the din of surrounding humanity.

“You” you whispered into his ear, feeling a slight shiver travel down his back and through his fingertips at your explorative touch. You kitten licked into his ear as he crumpled against you, burying his face in your shoulder and chuckling. You grasped him around the waist to help hide the burgeoning tent in his dress pants, though doubtful anyone would have paid it much mind. It was the start of a New Year, and the possibilities were endless. You felt a pang of regret, remembering the brevity of your stay, and wondering what the future might hold for the start of such a promising relationship. Couples were heading out to the balcony for a champagne toast, as the band started to wrap up the evening’s events, leaving you and Pike a bit more space on the dance floor.

“I know what I’m thinking about” Pike jested, drawing two fingers up to your chin and brushing a light kiss against your awaiting lips.

“Let me guess” you drawled, teasing your tongue at the underside of Pike’s top lip, as he happily obliged. “When Harry Met Sally” you joked, pulling back abruptly and touching your nose tenderly to his.

“How very dare you” Marcus smiled, pulling a strand of hair gently from your face and tucking it behind your ear. “When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with someone” he began…

“…you want the rest of your life to start as SOON as possible” you finished, nibbling at his neck and enjoying the friction of his winter beard chaffing slightly at your reddened cheeks.

“Ohhh gawd…move in with me” Pike sighed, freezing slightly at the unbidden yearning in his tone, as you cocked your eyebrows sky high and ceased the characteristic couple’s sway.

“Excuuuse me?” you questioned, not entirely shocked at the enthusiastic show of romance, but immediately pondering the logistics of your answer. Pike winced with embarrassment, furrowing his brow in immediate consternation.

Biting his lower lip he immediately back-pedaled, “God, I’ve done it again” Pike shook his head forlornly, stepping back from you about a foot, and bringing his hand awkwardly to the back of his neck, as you felt the immediate loss of his body contact. “PLEASE…forget I said anything. DUMB OLD MARCUS STRIKES AGAIN!” Pike wouldn’t even meet your eyes as he attempted to downplay the very sweet and courageous offer, given his past relationship. “Did I not learn ANYTHING from Lisbon?” his voice cracked a bit as you noticed a soft sheen tinge his eyes, as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, shrugging his shoulders helplessly.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa…hang on Art Squad” you tiptoed forward, grasping him around the waist once again, as though approaching a wounded animal. Pike stood stiffly, his hand at his sides, but you felt an infinitesimal relaxation in his shoulders as you nuzzled up against his chest, attempting to avoid placing lipstick all over the starched armor. “I just need a second, you kind of surprised me…” you exhaled, casting a sideways glance to the couples and groups shuffling out of the dance hall with tittering laughter. “These last few days have been AMAZING…” you began, feeling Marcus pull against you with a large intake of air, and standing to his full height.

“Too soon. It was too soon. It was too much. I did it again…” he started rambling haphazardly as you clamped his lips shut with two fingers abruptly.

“Shut up” you rolled your eyes, attempting to diffuse, but inwardly oscillating between heightened sensitivity for Pike’s admission, and your own ebullience at the possibility. Could you permanently move to the East Coast? The pandemic had so isolated your friendships, adventures and possibilities, but were you finally looking into the silver lining? Almost ALL of your work was now remote. That’s the main reason you had unknowingly ventured to Pike’s Place to begin with. Was this a dream that could possibly come to fruition, not just in spite of your recent turmoil, but somehow BECAUSE of it? You thought back to your East Coast college days, and how much you had enjoyed the changing of seasons, the arts and culture…And pausing to look at the doe-eyed countenance of your boyfriend, whose mouth was still softly muffled by your small hand, you were looking at reason #1 for the next great adventure standing directly in front of you.

“Wht I MNT t sy wzzz…” Pike mumbled comedically into your hand as you started swaying from side to side in an acapella dance. Pike pouted dramatically, taking your hand away from his mouth and grasping it firmly in his own clasp.

“I love you” you whispered, as Pike halted completely in his tracks, grasping your face with both hands imploringly. “I. Love. You” you enunciated for effect, watching the pool of emotions swim in Pike’s longing eyes.

“Pink?” Pike’s voice echoed from outside your mind, juxtaposed by his unmoving mouth. You hummed happily in your sleep, sighing sweetly, “I love you, Pike”. Your eyelids fluttered quickly as Marcus drew a finger across your forehead, moving his thumb sensually to your mouth. Squinting into the dull sunlight, you blinked at Pike’s near angelic expression, as his eyes crinkled with acknowledgement and enjoyment in the cabin’s atmosphere.

“Oh!” you laughed, rubbing your eyes tiredly and immediately marveling at Pike’s smooth skinned torso. “Good morning!” you yawned, gathering the blankets up around you and stretching like a cat in the noonday. “Have we survived the apocalypse?” you asked, one eye closed in beleaguered submission.

“I don’t think I ever saw those techniques highlighted in ‘Doctor Zhivago’, but National Geographic should really be consulting US for the future…” Pike sighed, licking his thumb and rubbing the sleep from the corner of your eye.

You gasped in surprise at the continued intimacy, crumpling shyly against his penetrative gaze. This didn’t feel like a one night stand, even if Pike had no where to escape to…Well, except Washington D.C. Shit. Your face immediately crinkled with pain, reflecting on your recent dream.

“Hey, where’d you go?” Pike stilled momentarily, wrapping a tentative hand around your waist. “I hate to remind you that we’re still stuck in the tundra, so you’re not gonna be able to escape me that easily…” he teased, pinching your lower lip between two fingers pensively. “Any regrets?” he winced, closing his hand in a fist quickly and holding his breath. “I know I always get ahead of myself, but you might have one of the BEST reasons on the planet for no strings attached. I….” Pike rubbed at the back of his neck with a moment’s hesitation before plowing forward. “Ah hell, who am I kidding? I’ve spent the last 30 minutes watching you sleep and trying to pick out puppy names if we got a golden retriever…” he admitted with embarrassment. “Geez, maybe it should be a Siberian Husky…” he chuckled, before you unabashedly wrapped your arms around his neck, giggling and peppering kisses all over his face.

“This is REALLY forward of you” Pike teased, closing his eyes in submission and smiling with delight. “Here at Pike’s Place, we generally don’t fraternize with the clientele…” he couldn’t finish the ridiculous statement as your lips were passionately placed against his, moving against his mouth with supplication. Marcus sighed into your mouth, pulling back to tuck those pesky strands of hair behind your ears once again. “Do you want your Christmas present now?” he whispered. You held back a squeal of delight, clapping your hands together quickly.

“Yes please!” you begged, sitting up halfway and squinting at the unlit Christmas Tree and the lonely manilla envelope that had kept you both company all night. The cabin was still chilly, but you noticed the winds had significantly died down, the sun was shining brightly and the snowfall seemed to have at least paused. Perhaps you and Pike had rounded the corner of survival and were going to make it after all. Marcus pulled his nearby sweatpants on, shivering slightly without the warmth of your body pressed to him and tiptoed carefully to the tree, running back into your grabbing embrace, hugging the manila folder between the two of your bodies awkwardly. Already pouting at his more clothed form, you taunted, “Woooo! Take it off! Snowpacolypse be damned!"

Relishing the abrasive scratch of his developing beard against your neck, he tucked in further to the cloud of blankets and renewed warmth. “My life flashed before my eyes just now, I barely made it back to you…” he joked, licking a tickling trail up your neck before pausing retrospectively. “I’ve turned into George Bailey!” he brightened, taking in your beaming countenance.

“Okay, Mr. Cinema, you’ve got your audience right where you want them. What is this clandestine gift you’ve planned, without the benefit of a Macy’s or Santa himself? I doubt he could get in through the chimney last night…” you smirked, nose to nose with your holiday benefactor.

“Eh, it’s nothing much…” he immediately back-pedaled, unsure of your reaction. “You know how much I’m always doodling in my notebook…and…well, it’s no Picasso. And thank heavens, because I’m not sure how much you know about art history…” he began rambling before you placed the folder tenderly over his mouth. “Pike?” his doe eyes peeked mischievously over the rim of the manilla. “Hmph” he mumbled against it. “Shut up”. “Hmph” he acquiesced with twinkling eyes. Unable to wait a moment longer you opened the manilla folder as a single sheet of paper fluttered between the space of your bodies. Breathing inward, you marveled at the instantaneous recognition. It was you. Pike had sketched a portrait…of you. Your fingers traveled delicately over the surface of the paper, marveling at the detail and the care that had been invested in the unexpected gift.

“You told me the best gift you ever received was a re-appreciation of…yourself. And I couldn’t agree more!” he shrugged, crinkling his nose with self-deprecation. “But next year I’ll get you a bracelet or something, if this isn’t…” you interrupted him again with a barrage of kisses, before chastising, “you are the most ridiculous man I have ever met in my life”. He smiled affectionately, pecking you on the lips, “I love you too, Pink”.

Before you had a moment to react, several things transpired at once. The cabin abruptly blazed to life in a surprising spike of energy as the heater hesitantly clicked back to life, and the television renewed its fuzzy depiction of Bedford Falls. You and Pike gawked at one another effervescently, and before shouting in exclamation, the phone rang.

The phone rang?

You and Pike fumbled with the blankets, the folder and one another, jumping to your feet in a tangle of arms and legs, Marcus grabbing at his nearby sweater and you stuffing your legs haphazardly into the nearby snow suit. Giggling and chasing one another into the study, Pike nearly yanked the phone out of its socket, laughing uproariously, “Pike’s Place! We have no room at the inn right now, how may I direct your call?” he clamped his hand over his mouth, trying to stifle more laughter at your incredulous expression, waiting for his report.

“Absolutely” he agreed, nodding his head enthusiastically, “that sounds perfect. We’ll be waiting! Thanks again!” he hung up the phone peering at you enthusiastically.

“WELL?” you shouted gleefully, waiting for Pike’s explanation.

“Telemarketer” he pouted, blocking the onslaught of punches and tickles directed at his midriff. “Surrender! I surrender” he chuckled, grabbing you easily around the waist and pulling you into his frame. “That was the mechanic down the road” he mumbled into your ear, eliciting a tingling shiver down the length of your body. “He’s been calling everyone in the neighborhood now that the phone lines are back in operation. He just wanted to let us know the power is back on, and they’ve started making the rounds to check on everyone” Marcus ironically explained, turning you around in his grasp and kissing you on the nose. “Assuming the pipes have thawed, I’m thinking…pancakes?” he grinned broadly.

“Coffee” you whined, collapsing your hips against his and indulging in a tentative exploration of his morning…excitement.

“Coming up m’lady” he mumbled into your mouth, dragging you into the kitchen for breakfast.

Everything started to happen so quickly at that point. Pike began making the morning pancakes as you tidied up the warming cabin. Placing your portrait on the hearth you beamed excitedly at the relit Christmas Tree, and smiled with acknowledgement as George Bailey once against learnt the true meaning of the holidays. You were desperately trying to balance the bubbling excitement of your new lease on life, the promising declarations of Pike earlier that morning and your own burgeoning feelings of optimism. But what if you were wrong? What if the intensity of the last few days was all an illusion, and you were destined to return to the loneliness of your previous life? There was only one way to find out, you finally decided, watching Pike dance around the kitchen casually, sporting his cooking apron that said, “Who needs a hug?”

“Is it hot in here, or is that just me?” Pike twirled with pancakes plated, flashing a dazzling smile to your incredulous laughter.

“That’s definitely you, Art Squad, though it IS markedly warmer since…” your voice trailed off as flashes of the evening flickered in an unbidden montage across your mindscape. Your cheeks reddened with more than the newfound heat, as Pike deftly brought the pancakes and a cup of steaming joe to the table.

“M’lady” he gestured an extra flourish, dipping his thumb into his mouth as he caught a stray droplet of coffee, soon grabbing the defrosting syrup from the fridge. His kitchen waltz faltered for a millisecond as he flashed on the realization that you weren’t “his” at all. The intimacy of the night and intoxication of survival had only fueled his characteristic enthusiasm, but small cracks of reality were starting to dot the periphery of his thinking. You were both alive. You had survived the winter storm together, but had Pike unthinkingly placed both of you in another inescapable conundrum? There was nothing conventional or planned about the quick courtship of your emergency encounter, but the familiar stab of uncertainty cut at Pike like the butter knife he was retrieving from the utensils drawer. He painstakingly thought back to every word, every decision on the bumpy road of your mutual survival. You had fallen like a Christmas gift, into his very lap, but it all seemed too good to be true. Somehow, he had fucked up AGAIN. He had learned nothing from the relationship with Lisbon, and was once again planning a beautiful life with a woman who owed him absolutely nothing. The force of his own emotion was hanging like an anchor around his neck, but he couldn’t ask you to make still more sacrifices. You had already opened yourself up to him in so many tender and loving ways, he wasn’t going to entitle himself to something he could never deserve. He was heading to Washington D.C. and you were here in not-so-sunny California. Nothing had changed. An insurmountable stack of rationalities descended on Pike as he somberly sat down at the table, his mood noticeably dampened.

“Uh…here take the last of the syrup” he deflated, shoving it forward to your surprised expression as you noticed the tonal shift.

“Aw, what happened to Danny Kaye?” you pondered, “I thought I was gonna get a re-enactment of ‘White Christmas’ with my side of pancakes!” you chirped, buzzing tentatively with the excitement of the morning’s possibilities.

“Well, after last night, we don’t need any more snow to set the mood. That’s enough of a white Christmas for me…” Pike chuckled forlornly, clasping his hands defeatedly in his lap and pensively pursing his lips. He sighed with relief watching you practically inhale the fragrant beverage, your eyelids fluttering shut with enjoyment.

“Gawd, I’m gonna miss Pike’s Place…” you moaned rapturously, still oblivious to Marcus’ inner monologue and digging in to your pancakes with a child-like voracity. With your eyes shut to the world and all its obligations, you had missed the flicker of pain that shot across Pike’s face, as he picked at his own breakfast, suddenly without appetite.

“I’m not sure why…” Marcus mumbled, atypically depressed and shoving the food around his plate with a pout. “All I ever do is…fail” the words fell from his lips unintentionally as your eyes shot open with incredulity.

“WHT?” you nearly yelled, with a mouthful of food threatening to spew in his face. “R U insne?” you chomped quickly, trying not to choke and finally taking in Pike’s hunched shoulders and crumpled expression. You swallowed carefully, taking a deep breath before continuing.

“I’m sorry, did the hypothermia just set in retroactively, or am I hallucinating?” you joked, your forehead pinching upwards with disbelief. “Is there ANY scenario where I’m still alive WITHOUT Agent Pike?” you offered, still confused at his glaring lack of self-confidence. “I don’t wanna give you a big head or anything, but last night was…beneficial for many, many reasons…” you smirked, trying to get a read on Pike’s unknown meaning.

Enigmatically, your words seemed to have the unintentionally opposite effect, as Pike sank further still into dejection, his circumstantial oppression growing by the minute. He was caught between a rock and a hard place. Under no circumstances could he return to the offices that Lisbon haunted, and his entire life had already been boxed and shipped to Washington D.C. He was more assured than ever of his professional passions, but how did that support you or the love that was starting to blossom in this epicenter of winter? How could he fix what he was accidentally breaking?

“I….” Pike’s voice cracked with the weighted heaviness of emotion. “I’m going to miss you too” he heaved a sigh of regret, casting a quick glance at the portrait displayed on the hearth. He couldn’t even take that with him, shaking his head helplessly. At least he could end this before breaking your heart as well.

“Don’t you want to know what your Christmas gift is?” you teased, until Pike pushed his uneaten plate harshly away.

“I need to end this now…” Pike bluntly stated, his face adopting a stoic, nearly unrecognizable mask of frigidity.

“What, breakfast?” you stalled, your heart lurching forward unexpectedly, catapulted faster than your brain could rally.

“This. Us….I need to end…us…”. The tree leaning against the cabin creaked sinisterly, Pike’s confession dousing the entire cabin in an ethereal, emotional cold.

“What?” you whispered, not believing your ears. Marcus had JUST been talking about plans and puppies…and pancakes. What had transpired in the last few minutes unbeknownst to you? This was so unlike the romantic persona you had come to know and…love…you started laughing awkwardly in disbelief. “Okay, very funny, Art Squad…” you ignored the heavy-laden pounding creeping up the back of your neck as the blood rushed to your ears uncomfortably.

“I’m serious, Pink, I can’t fail you again. If I had lost you…” Pike pressed his lips together harshly, stifling a sob. “I can’t ask you to…I don’t deserve…” he started rambling almost incoherently to himself, rubbing at his forehead desperately. “If I can’t keep you safe here at Pike’s Place, you have no business being with me anywhere else…” he mumbled under his breath, no longer making eye contact, his knee jerking sporadically under the table with anxiety.

What was happening? You felt your stomach drop sickeningly in your stomach, willing yourself not to retch, as a tight ball formed in the back of your throat. This was it. This was the exact nightmare you had been dreading since you arrived at Pike’s Place, but with every incremental step into Marcus’ optimism you had timidly left the sparse, armored existence of the pandemic. The feelings of betrayal, the isolation, the helplessness had all begun to vanish, but you felt your renewed self-confidence and resolve start to dissipate like the melting snow.

“You don’t….want this?” you rasped, tears annoyingly brimming at the edges of your eyes. You didn’t dare move for fear every sorrow would come tumbling out of your mouth and heart with no censorship whatsoever. Pike dragged his eyes up to meet yours, his soul shattering into a thousand penetrative shards.

What had he done? HOW was he always making the wrong decision, and hurting the people he cared about the most? He wanted to rush over to your side of the table and bury his face in your lap, begging forgiveness, but his hands held him decisively to his dining room chair. He wanted so much more for you. It was time to stop thinking so selfishly and grow up. Christmas miracles were for Pike’s Place and Bedford Falls…but not for him.

Your mouth was so dry, you weren’t sure you could articulate any sound but you managed to croak, “I need to hear you say it”, tumultuously wringing your hands together.

Pike looked at you incredulously as though you had just asked him to murder his best friend. Pausing heavily and taking a deep breath, he finally uttered “I…can’t…” clearing his throat painfully, “I…don’t…want this”, a crushing weight descended on his chest as though the cabin had collapsed on top of every hope and dream, suffocating the very life he had so desperately prayed for.

You stood shakily, your hands wrapped protectively around your body in case it decided to shatter on the spot. “Thank you for breakfast. I’ll pack…” you mumbled, floating somewhere between searing disbelief and emotional disassociation. Pike stood, his hand extending towards you as you stumbled up the stairs amidst a flurry of sobs and sniffles. Unable to tear his gaze away from you, the door shut softly, leaving Pike alone in the living room as George Bailey’s countenance flickered cinematically at the bridge’s edge. Marcus collapsed at the bottom of the stairs, barring your exit, and hanging his head in both his hands despairingly. What had he done?

Walking into the upstairs bedroom for the last time, you looked around at your meager belongings, your entire stay at Pike’s Place a confusing barrage of unbidden images. Marcus’ swaying, tipsy form, rooting you to your own emotional indecision. His angelic appearance with a plate of pancakes. Your ridiculous pink snowsuit.

Giving yourself the task of packing, you expected the tears to start flowing haphazardly, but nothing immediately came. Just memory after memory of Pike’s Place. Making snow angels in the front yard, eating far too many chocolate chip cookies, wriggling your toes against Pike’s warm body as you watched holiday movies together. What had gone wrong? The isolation of the pandemic had completely gaslighted your resource for human connection and intuition. But the time spent at Pike’s Place had begun to solidify who you were and what you wanted. Were you still so disconnected from society and self that you couldn’t see clearly into the future of your very own desires? You flashed on decorating the tree, intimate conversations and your hapless attempts at dinner that Pike had endlessly encouraged. Swallowing the lump of emotion threatening to overwhelm, you reached out in your mind to touch Marcus’ face tenderly. Just hours ago, his smile had been yours. His lips had been yours. His body had been yours. Was all of that an illusion of survival? You gripped your lips tightly together with a renewed resolve.

Main. Character. Energy.

A clarity of realization started to descend on you as you laced up your snow boots definitively. You had the sneaking suspicion Marcus was holding back, hesitant to repeat any past mistakes with Lisbon, and ultimately trying to protect you in the shifting landscape of his transition to Washington D.C.. But none of that mattered, because you finally knew what you wanted. The pandemic had liberated your life in more ways than one, and you were ready to step into your own self-actualization and speak up. If Pike decided to remove his light from your life, that would be his choice, but it wasn’t going to happen without your protestations. You journey may have felt like helpless wandering, but maybe you were no longer as lost as you previously thought. For better or worse THIS Donna Reed wasn’t running away from George Bailey, she was running straight towards him. You just weren’t entirely sure if he would be waiting with arms outstretched, or determined to question his life choices, and unwilling to embrace the love that stood right before him.

Pike couldn’t stop pacing around the cabin, weighing his options. He felt as though his heart were going to come racing out of his chest, following you to whatever corners of the earth you decided to inhabit. He’d always been an impulsive person, but this felt like something very different. All of these moments spent together, and somehow he was still running out of time. The clocks in the cabin were all bizarrely wrong since the power outage, but his internal compass was finally starting to align. It just seemed as though the current moment were slipping through his fingers like melting snow.

He hadn’t lied. He didn’t want this. More specifically…

He didn’t want…JUST…this.

He didn’t want to break your heart. He didn’t want to ask for more. He didn’t want to see you go, and he wanted so much more than just Pike’s Place. He wanted his very own “It’s a Wonderful Life”, and he wanted it all…WITH YOU. Nearly giddy from the rush of adrenaline and euphoria, this was more than simple affection or even primal survival. This was Love. He’d recognize it anywhere. He looked down at the delicate portrait of you, he held sacredly in his hands.

He’d rush up the stairs and proclaim his undying love!

Stupid Marcus, that’s how you ended up at Pike’s Place to begin with, he reasoned.

He’d lock you up in the cabin, until you changed your mind! Pike rolled his eyes sardonically. This wasn’t “Misery”.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Love wasn’t about captivity, entitlement, or possession. Love had everything to do with freedom. He took a deep breath, stilling his mind and heart in the process. He’d have to let you go. A lifetime of chasing, both professionally and personally, and his most important decision he ever made…was to finally surrender. And if Love came back to him, knocking on his doorstep once again…

Pike was jolted from his reverie by a knock at the door. He nearly dropped the portrait, startling, as he caught the skeptical face of the town’s mechanic peering at him from the repaired window. “Hell of a bang up job, Pike!” the mechanic’s muffled voice resonated. “Who’s car is that, down the road?”

Holding your suitcase valiantly in one hand, and your trusty crowbar in the other, you were determined to express your thoughts as quickly as possible before chickening out. You would just explain you feelings to Pike, blizzard be damned, and whatever his response, at least you had finally followed your heart. Yanking the door open courageously, you charged down the stairs with as much confidence as you could muster.

“Iheardeverywordthatyousaidanditdoesnotmatteroneiota.IknowthewayIfeelaboutyouandafterlastnightIthinkIknowhowyoufeelaboutmeyouarejustafraidtotrustyourselforanyoneelsebutyoudeserveeverythingPike.Youdeserveloveandsacrificeandromanceandme!AndbeforeyousayanotherwordIamgoingtogiveyouyourChristmaspresent…”

Reaching the bottom of the stairs you were met by an unexpected sight, as Pike stood despondently, your portrait cradled tenderly in his hands. Standing next to him was a complete stranger, clad in head to toe winter wear, awkwardly grasping his hat between his oil stained hands.

“Well hey there, little lady, you must be the passenger Pike was just telling me about…” he began, extending a greasy hand toward you and taking the suitcase from your surprised grasp.“The cavalry is here! We’ll just tow you back to town lickety split and have you on your way before you can say ‘Jingle Bell Rock’. Pike was just telling me about your travel troubles. He hasn’t been giving you any problems, has he?” the mechanic joked, elbowing Pike in the side.

Marcus looked completely dejected as he hugged the portrait to his chest, a wan smile of defeat pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Pretty sure you saved my life, Pink” he mumbled, willing you to somehow telepathically understand his meaning before you exited his life permanently.

You opened your mouth several times to start speaking, but nothing materialized in the oddity of the moment. This wasn’t part of the plan. You couldn’t bare your soul to Pike with…a crowbar.

“Don’t think you’ll be needing that anymore” the mechanic questioningly deprived you of the tool, tucking it under his arm securely. “Already got the Hyundai jacked up to the tow. Let’s get you back to town before that blizzard kicks up again, missy” he tried to encourage, accidentally bumping Pike’s shoulder on the way to the door. Lugging your possessions heftily he flung the door open to the steely ice of winter, yelling back at Marcus on the exit, “Hell of a bang up job, Pike. Didn’t think city folk had any business being in the country. Glad to see you didn’t get the little lady killed!” he joked, hiking the snowy length of a football field to the awaiting tow truck. Watching him recede in the distance, Pike swallowed hard, hesitantly reaching out with quivering hands.

“Merry Christmas” his voice cracked, as the portrait fluttered helplessly in the wind. “Thanks for coming to Pike’s Place” he nearly whispered, blinking back the tears, unable to meet your eyes directly.

A wash of emotion overwhelmed, as you bypassed his outstretched hand and flung yourself into his embrace. Pike stood stoically fixed in place, ensuring he didn’t grasp you tightly and never let go. He closed his eyes painfully, breathing in your soft fragrance and melting slightly into your desperate hold.

“I’ll never forget you, Pike” you cried quietly, grabbing his cheeks and kissing him passionately on the mouth. You felt his stance falter in the winter wind, as he kissed you back fervently. Breaking the kiss quickly, you cut a quick path to the doorway, not looking back, and closing the door behind you.

Bracing yourself against the icy tundra you hefted one heavy step after another, listening to the crunch of snow beneath your booted feet. Your tears began to chill against the steely wind, punctuated by the rhythm of your begrudging dirge. Just keep walking. One step after another. Don’t think. Don’t feel. Don’t act. Pike is better off without you, and some things are just too good to be true. The words bit at your heels, spurring you onward, as your heart twisted within your chest. Peering down the road you saw Bessie the Hyundai hitched up to the tow and the mechanic piling your belongings into the back of his truck. You stopped dead in your tracks, casting a longing glance back at the cabin. It no longer had the telltale, cheery plume of smoke drifting from the tree-covered chimney. It wasn’t the Normal Rockwell painting you remembered from a week earlier, but it held so much more poignancy and meaning than any flat landscape. Now small and lonely, silhouetted against the pristine winter backdrop, it was a receding memory of love and companionship highlighted against the harsh challenges of reality. A true home. Pike had been your safe haven. Your port in a storm. And here you were, running away from it.

“Well, what are you waiting for, little lady?!” the mechanic’s voice cut through the increasing winds, as he sat in the coach of his awaiting truck.

What WERE you waiting for?

Marcus stood alone in the warming living room, decidedly colder since your exit. Still holding the portrait in his shaking hands, he didn’t dare look at your smiling face in this moment. He gulped back the tears, numbly sitting on the couch and looking at the stilled fireplace. The Christmas Tree seemed to wink from the corner as he stared at the flickering television. Watching George Bailey run through the streets of Bedford Falls, he couldn’t take anymore. Reaching for the remote he defiantly shut off the Christmas flick, peering down at the floor where your passionate bodies had previously been locked in a survival embrace, now empty and solitary, showcased by the wintry sunshine.

Finally hazarding a peek at the precious portrait in his hands, a single tear fell onto the notepaper, blurring his eyes and clarifying his longing. Another tear. Another tear. He set the page delicately on the couch beside him and finally let the emotion wash over him. Covering his face with his hands, his entire chest throbbed with a pulsing yearning that seemed to encapsulate life itself. You were gone. And he was the one who had let you go.

He tried to think ahead to his new life in Washington D.C, but every imagined location was peppered with images of you; touring the new CIA offices, visiting the Smithsonian, walking down the cherry blossom lined streets, and being in love. Being together. Being with you. His heart lurched violently in his chest as he blearily smiled at the home made ornaments dotting the relit Christmas Tree.

Pike’s Place had been an escape from the reality of all of his insecurity, all of his loss and all of his self doubt. Your unexpected emergence had jolted him from the isolation of his solitude and reminded him of the true meaning of Christmas. Giving. The gift of your presence and your love had not only saved his very life, but had given him a new hope for the future. A hope for the possibility of love. Not one that was based in flippant enthusiasm, but a grounding passion of intimacy and togetherness. Looking down at your sketched likeness, he plaintively smiled to himself, tracing his fingers over the contours of your freckled face. It didn’t make any sense, but somehow he knew his love had finally manifested itself in the best way he knew how; Love was in the gift. And in the surrendering of love with the hopeful promise of its someday return.

Marcus sniffled slightly, twisting his head as he heard the soft knocking at the door. He wasn’t looking forward to another awkward conversation with the mechanic, particularly through tear stained snuffles, but perhaps you had forgotten something. Hefting himself heavily off the couch and hugging the portrait to his chest he begrudgingly trudged to the door, opening it to find…you.

A vision in pink, not only from the ubiquitous, and ever-present snowsuit but from the glowing crimson of your frost-bitten cheeks and the rose-hued rim of your equally tear stained face. Seeing your figure standing before him was like an immediate breath of fresh air, counterpointed by the frosty breeze and sterling hope of possibility.

“Pink! I….I missed you…” he chuckled self-deprecatingly, not even attempting to hide the portrait cradled in his shuddering hands. With quivering lips he confusedly asked, “Did you…forget something?”

You hiccuped shakily, your smile broadening into a Cheshire-like grin. “I never gave you my Christmas present” you offered, shifting your weight from side to side in the cold. Pike stood dumbly in the doorway, his heart a pounding throb of bewilderment.

“M-my…Christmas present?” he mumbled, gazing at your face meticulously, as though memorizing it freckle for freckle.

“I…I don’t want to go back to my life in California” you finally breathed a sigh of relief with the admission you’d been preparing for the last 24 hours. Pike’s breath halted in his throat with tentative disbelief. “Something about my life stopped with the pandemic. The hysterectomy, the isolation, the disconnect…it was all tied to….me! Somehow I lost…ME. Wandering through the desolation of the last four years has finally brought me home. Home to myself. Home to my dreams. And home….to you Marcus. I want my home to be…with you”. The unyielding realization of your time at Pike’s Place came tumbling forward in a stream of passion as Pike’s eyes widened to the shape of saucers. “I want to move to Washington D.C…with YOU. If you’ll have me?” you finally offered, throwing up your hands in placation. Maybe you were being impulsive. Maybe you were being emotional. Maybe you were being characteristically “Pike” you observed internally, giggling with abandon. But you were finally stepping into your heart’s desire, as the main character, and it felt fucking amazing. “Merry Christmas?” you smirked, shrugging your shoulders and awaiting Pike’s response.

A momentary hesitation ensued as Pike remained frozen in the doorframe, gripping the portrait in a vice like embrace, his mouth parted slightly in surprise. As though watching a snowman melt on the spot, a beam of light began to flicker in Pike’s distant gaze, springing into a broad smile that enfolded his entire being. The portrait fluttered noiselessly to the ground, escaping his outstretched hands as he reached for you longingly.

“Merry Christmas!” he exclaimed, gripping you firmly around the waist and gently pulling you towards him.

“We can take it slow…” you began, until your lips were buried with his, tasting the salty sweetness of your shared tears and smiling mouths. A million thoughts cascaded through your mind considering your new life of possibilities, but only one thing really mattered. You were finally home. Home to yourself. Home to love. And home…with Pike.

“Merry Christmas, Pink” Pike mumbled into your mouth, laughing and crying with relief. Love had returned to him, on the very doorstep of Pike’s Place. And you were both reaching for it, with arms outstretched, never letting it go again.

*thanks @unknown-till for the cool dividers!

Tags

smut christmas pedro pascal marcus pike marcus pike x reader pedro pedro pascal fan fiction pedro pascal fan fic marcus pike x female reader marcus pike x f!reader marcus pike x you pedro pascal character roll a trope challenge

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pedges-world

11 months ago

Pedro at the Beach

Ah! This turned out a little better than I was expecting! I didn't get to do as much sewing as I wanted, but featuring some Pablo Neruda poetry and my handy dandy PP coloring book among other things... We know our guy likes the beach...

Tags

fanart pedro pascal pedro pedro pascal fan fiction pedro scouts

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pedges-world

1 year ago

Rocky Road

Here we are with attempt Number Two, a therapeutic exploration of what healthy, angry s@x might look like in a playful, safe atmosphere. Pedge's Cuddle Couch is ALL RPF

Triggers: 18+, fluffy so fluffy to start, profanity, unprotected P in V (committed relationship), lite S/M, fainting, slapping, hair pulling, food reference

The frying pan dropped into the sink with a fantastic clatter as soap suds and utensils sputtered beneath it. “G@ddammit!” you muttered, literally throwing in the towel.

“Honey I’m home!” Pedge’s voice jokingly drifted in from the entryway, as you smoothed out your hair and clothes, in an attempt to disguise the obvious steam rising from your head.

“What’s up????” you squeaked, with an overt smile plastered on your face.

Pedge appeared in the doorway, and froze mid-stride with two grocery bags poised in the air. “What’s wrong?” he asked. You cinematically collapsed onto the floor in mock dramatics, as his smirk dangled above you, now upside down. “Everything is impossible. Students are driving me nuts, the parents are even worse. I feel like acid is dripping into my stomach and I’m jittering like a f@cking espresso!….F@ck!”

Pedro gingerly joined you on the tiled floor, wincing slightly at the crackle in his knees. “Okay with my boundless male intuition, I’m picking up on some distress here.” A begrudging smile appeared at the corners of your mouth. “Don’t try to lighten my mood, pendejo. I’m mad and I’m determined to stay mad.” He joined your histrionics with a theatrical pout. “Bath?” he quipped. “Wine? Ice cream? I got the good stuff.” You heaved a heavy sigh, inching your body closer to his. You felt like you were going to crawl out of your skin. So tired of being regulated and buttoned up in an emotional straight-jacket. You wished you could take all of this power and rage and channel it.

“What if we tried something…different?”

P’s eyebrows shot up straight to his forehead, “What, like Thai Food?”

“I’m thinking spicier…” you growled, not so gently grabbing the denim bulge in front of you.

Pedge nearly doubled over on top of you “Ay, ay…” he giggled. “What are you up to, mija? You want me to relax you?” That sounded nice, to be sure, but you had always been curious about ALL your capabilities. Scaring yourself with how small your voice became when you whispered, “Let me Dom you.”

It was like all the air went out of the room, and Pedro’s eyes turned a dark black. “Fuuuuck” he sighed stickily. You started to shrink down into yourself with embarrassment, until he planted his palm across your stomach lowering his voice about an octave, “I’m game if you are.”

How the hell did you get yourself into this predicament? All of your fancy ideas, and here you were, pacing around your bedroom in a black negligee, high heels and a silk scarf, while Pedge sat dopily grinning from the bed.

“Babe, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want. I think in our haste I left the ice cream on the kitchen floor. We can just grab two spoons and call it a day…”. Something about his innocent tone focused your resolve, as you took a deep breath and lunged on top of the bed, now towering over him, heels and all. His mouth dropped open and he apparently stopped breathing as his eyes fixed on yours. “I’m gonna need you to stop talking now” you flatlined, watching his Adam’s apple bob in his throat hungrily. “Do you remember your safe word, honey?”

“Rocky Road” he licked his lips feverishly, nodding a little too enthusiastically. You smiled quietly, not entirely sure how to proceed, but cock confident in your approach. Making this up as we go along, you thought, moving to straddle his torso and gently lowering your heat on his stomach. He was breathing hard and holding your quads as you grabbed his jaw and dragged your thumb across his lower lip. “Lots of sound; no words” you threatened quietly.

A whimper caught in his throat, as you stuck your thumb in his mouth. This wasn’t going to be the smoothest operation, since you couldn’t decide what to do first, dragging the scarf across his neck. That seemed a bit too dangerous so you stuffed part of it in his mouth, as his eyes widened to the shape of saucers.

“More sound please” you growled.

Humming into the scarf, his eyelids fluttered shut. So far, so good, you mused, moving both your palms lightly to the sides of his neck and holding with light pressure. Pedge started groaning beneath you and wriggling his hips expectantly. Right. Without realizing it, you had absentmindedly been grinding yourself across his pubic hair which now glistened with your slick. You felt his length bump against your ass, and without thinking you took the palm of your hand and slapped the side of his face.

“Oh gawd!” you gasped in horror drawing your hands up to your mouth and immediately stopping all of your gyrations.

“Whthpnd?” he comically mumbled into the scarf, as his eyes shot open in confusion, spitting it to the side. “Are you okay?” he grabbed you by the elbows, lifting you up, a look of concern shadowing his features. You had buried your head in your hands, somewhere between crying and laughing, appalled at where your instincts had taken you. “That…wasn’t…I didn’t plan that…” you managed to eek out.

His body relaxed a bit, moving his hands to rub your back, “I mean…I kind of blacked out there for a second, but you’re not getting any complaints from me…” he smiled. Your body started to relax as well, a single tear dropping onto his forearm.

“You’re not gonna hurt me, pobrecita” he chided, reaching up with his thumb to wipe another tear away. “This is a very empathic Domme”…Your sniffle collapsed into a giggle as your hips resumed their circular movements. “Believe me, I know how to take directionnnnnnn…” he moaned as you started sliding down his length along your folds.

“Holy hell” he sighed.

“No words” you repeated, regaining a bit of confidence and notching his tip at your entrance.

He groaned placatingly as his eyes closed shut again. Digging his hands into your waist and hips, your heat swallowed him in one envelopment as he lunged forward in surprise.

“Shhh…” you taunted, covering his mouth with your hand, as both of your movements started to sync up. You were thinking less and less, dragging his hands above his head and fucking him relentlessly into the headboard. You could feel him, like an iron rod inside you, as the pressure began to build, your desire white hot and direct.

Now wrapping his hands behind his back in a tight prison you grinded down on his hips, collapsing into his shoulder and biting it. As you sunk your teeth in a bit and started to suckle, his entire body began to quiver with you atop it.

“Ohhhhh…” he mewled, his hips starting to falter and stutter in confusion.

“Tell me I’m in charge” you reached up and grabbed the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling hard.

“Yes ma’ammmmm…” his throat exposed to the ceiling, now covered in salty sweat. Starting at the divot in his sternum you licked a slow line up to the stubble on his chin.

“Tell me what’s mine.”

“Yes m..ma’am, yes m…ma’ammmmm…” you’d never heard him so delirious and wrecked before, but you were fairly certain you were starting to unravel a little yourself.

“Look at me when I talk to you”, you held the weight of his head in both hands, fisting his hair on either side. He was blinking quickly and trying to acquiesce, but his eyes kept fluttering shut and rolling back in his head. This was maybe the hottest thing you’d ever done, but you were also having a hard time focusing, as you milked and pulsed around him.

“Can…I…cum…need…cum…please…cummmm…” he sounded absolutely undone with you bouncing on his cock, breasts nearly in his face. You dug your thumb into his jawline, turning his head to the side, marveling at the pulsing vein beneath.

“Cum. Now.” you growled, sucking hard on his earlobe and clamping down with your thighs as hard as you could muster.

“Ohhhhhhhh!” he spilled forward violently, grabbing you around the waist, nearly knocking the breath out of you with the force of his orgasm. Damn, you had forgotten how strong he was, even at his most vulnerable. That was gonna bruise tomorrow. You started to see stars, tilting back with euphoria into his grasp as the entire room seemed to flip sideways in a hazy echo.

Seemingly from another universe, Pedge’s voice began to drift into your consciousness with a slight ringing sound…

“My love, my love. You’re starting to scare me a little, please come back.” Your mouth was fuzzy and your eyes refused to open on their own accord. I’m tired, you thought stretching your arms lazily above you, and nearly passing out again with the effort. A small sigh escaped your mouth as you floated back into your self, realizing Pedge was caressing your face, and was laying on top of you, poised with concern.

“Oh my gawd, did I f@ck you into oblivion? Come back mija, whenever you’re ready, come back…” A small tickle in your chest bloomed into a smile as you shuddered with pleasure. “Mmmm…” you managed to hum, slipping in and out of consciousness and thoroughly pleased with your first attempt. You were vaguely aware of peppered kisses finding their way across your stomach and mouth and chest. It was quite some time before you coalesced back into existence and found those big chocolate eyes transfixed on your face.

“Are you alive?” he pleaded, sounding a little more concerned than was warranted, considering the earth shattering experience you just orchestrated. “Plenty” you slurred, cock drunk and completely forgetful of the day’s events as well as your name.

“Ay Dios mio” he laughed, burying his head in your chest and dragging his lips up to your mouth. “I have never…” he started.

You began giggling uncontrollably, looking down at your high-heeled laden feet sticking out from beneath him. How did those manage to stay on? you pondered, having long since lost the scarf and any semblance of dignity. “Rocky Road” he mumbled. Your eyes snapped open blearily, trying to focus on his face. You lifted yourself up on your elbows, “What, baby? What’s wrong?"

“No, I’m sorry, Rocky Road. I left the Rocky Road on the kitchen floor, it’s probably melted into a puddle by now.” he laughed. Well, so have I, you smirked, collapsing back underneath him with contentment. “For our next act, Pedro Pascal will drizzle ice cream into his girl friend's belly button and suck out every drop to thunderous applause…” you intoxicatingly rambled, feeling your bodies titter together in laughter.

“Yes ma’am” he grinned, tucking a hair behind your ear and burying his mouth to yours in a deep, languid kiss. “You are just full of surprises”.

Tags

smut pedro pascal pedro pedro pascal fan fiction pedro pascal fan fic s and m

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pedges-world

7 months ago

Pedge Tweets PedgeIsPunk

Pedge says he's a little embarrassed, posting on social media for the first time, and doesn't want anyone to think he is....Pedro Pascal. He's just an enthusiast, who has spent an inordinate amount of time...researching this beautiful boy. I told him that we can keep all our innermost thoughts to ourselves, but it's okay to enjoy the beauty of imagination at a distance. He couldn't agree more. Check out the Cuddle Couch if you like RPF...

Series Masterlist

*thanks LittlsMsMorales Art Shop!

Tags

smut pedro pascal pedro pedro pascal fan fiction pedro pascal fan fic

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pedges-world

3 months ago

The Last of Us

Went a little old school today. Negotiating my health challenges, and hoping The Tumblr doesn't crash. Super excited about Season 2 of the Last of Us coming out this Sunday, but might need to watch after the fact. If you're looking for a fix until then, check out my "Crime and Punishment; Last of Us" hybrid I wrote for Pedge's Bookshop. I'm really proud of the series and it sets us at the doorstep of Season 2. Check it out!

Until then, "endure...and survive..."

“We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken.” “Don’t be overwise; fling yourself straight into life, without deliberation; don’t be afraid - the flood will bear you to the bank and set you safe on your feet again.” “the most offensive is not their lying—one can always forgive lying—lying is a delightful thing, for it leads to truth—what is offensive is that they lie and worship their own lying…”

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smut pedro pascal the last of us joel miller crime and punishment Dostoyevsky pedro pedro pascal fan fiction pedro pascal fan fic

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pedges-world

1 year ago

Charcuterie Challenge

Pedge and I were pretty late to the game on this one but I couldn't get the @happypedrohours Charcuterie Challenge out of my head and off of my plate. So here we are with the last minute offering! I'm not as familiar with Marcus Pike, but @perotovar and I noticed that he seems to be eating a lot, and we have no complaints here!

Ingredients

Candy Coating sweet as Marcus Sprinkles for the sparkle of life Parchment Paper for Sexy Messiness

Directions

Fall in love with Marcus Pike. Obvs. Place parchment paper on a baking sheet. Read your daily sexy fics until you are hawt as hell. That will make it easier to melt your candy coating as quickly as possible. Dip the pretzels half of the way into the candy coating (allow Marcus to lick the coating off of your fingers and other extremities). Place the candy coated pretzel on the parchment and cover with sprinkles, if you’re not already on the floor, kissing and hugging each other in a sweet, sticky mess. If you find yourself overheating, place in freezer. Oooops! Just the pretzels, not Marcus, he won’t fit!

Enjoy sexy time ASAP. Have pretzels for after-sex-time snack, and stay salty!

Salty Poetry

Body quivers as hot palms touch me Arousal is written all over my face Wrapped inside two muscular arms Ten fingers lock in a tight embrace. Warm breath tickles satin shoulders Skin lights up with an electric charge Hot lips nuzzle chiseled naked flesh And a solid man part shows large. Sweet plum bosom tips point at you Fiery tongue caress the crimson peaks Squeals spill from my red parted lips Soft nibbles steal breaths-cannot speak. My whimpers drive granite to throb Arousal lights cheeks with a pink glow Sweaty bodies flex into pretzel twists Nimble fingers flick the creamy flow.

Credit: Deborahlee, 2016, @happypedrohours

Tags

pedro pascal charcuterie marcus pike pedro pedro pascal fan fiction

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pedges-world

3 months ago

Pedge's Cinema; All About Eve

Thank you to @auteurdelabre for our beautiful coloring book! I have been doubly inspired, writing the sequel for Pedge's Cinema; All About Eve. It was fun to take this coloring page and overlay it on some of Pedro's favorite movie posters. There are several more installments on the horizon, I hope you will enjoy!

Series Masterlist

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pedro pascal the unbearable weight of massive talent javi gutierrez pedro pedro pascal fan fiction all about eve

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pedges-world

9 months ago

A Very Special Episode of PB and J

And now for a very special episode of PB and J. This one is drastically self-indulgent, though I feel there are some things Pedge and I can say to the fandom that might help.

Sexy Disclaimer: Pedge is not a registered therapist, however therapeutic he might be. We are going to be talking about some challenging topics like SH, ideation, orientation, violence and shame…

Pedge and I have been talking a lot about shame and allowance lately, haven’t we Pedge? I know, it’s hard to sit with uncomfortable emotions no matter how many chocolate chip cookies we have. It’s easy to feel broken or like there’s something wrong with you. Hmmm? I mean, it’s only 11:30am but…yes we can have some for breakfast.

This first writing year on Tumblr I’ve learned A LOT. I spent a full year reading ALL KINDS of fics and some of them had me feeling all sorts of things! I read fluff, I read violence, I read about threesomes, I read about orientation, I read about SH, ideation, dead dove…

Sorry, Pedge has his fingers in his ears and is singing “Purple Rain” right now, just in case. Maybe I should whisper a little…I’m just gonna give a little reminder that trigger warnings are there for a reason. You just protect yourself like Pedge does, and if you don’t like something, block it! I saw some scary pics last night I just blocked that ish straight away, no thank you!

But sometimes I have a tendency to “block” myself, and that’s something my REAL therapist and I have been working on. What? No Pedge, I’m sorry the time that we spend together is very therapeutic, but it’s also important to speak with a professional. No, she doesn’t make chocolate chip cookies the way you do, and yes I would like some Almond Milk.

Anyways, sometimes I feel silly or embarrassed or guilty about the things that I like. Do you ever feel that way? I worry that a playful cartoon like Pedge might appear childish or misrepresent some of the adult topics we address. I’ve started describing myself as a sexy ace, but that label doesn’t really fit. Pedge is running to get his Pride Flag from June, thank you for the support, P. I love fics that explore orientation and different types of love. Yes, Pedge I LOVED the work you did in “A Strange Way of Life”. I mean…that was hawt, and I’m not just talking about the oven right now.

I like unpacking fics that involve violence. I’m not 100% why, but I feel safe within myself to explore those feelings, particularly in a fictional environment and not a real one. Yes Pedge, I DID watch TLOU and that hospital scene was VERY believable. No, I don’t know if Laurence Olivier liked chocolate chip cookies, but I’m sure he would have liked you. This October we’re going to explore some Halloween fics with some of your SUPER scary characters like Dave York and Max Phillips. Pedge, you know I can still see you even when you’re hiding underneath the covers, right? Okay, you just let me know if we overstimulate ourselves, okay? Maybe we’ll read those during the daytime…

Pedge, did you know sometimes I even feel embarrassed about writing? (Ahem) alright, you don’t have to laugh about it, silly goose. I often refer to you as Pedge or P, because you’re an avatar. No, not the movie. Yes, I know it’s a classic. An avatar is an icon or figure that represents a REAL figure like Pedro Pascal.

Oh honey, I’m sorry, no you are VERY real. How could you eat so many cookies if you weren’t real? Oh cuddle bug…okay you just nestle up in here for a hug, I’m sorry I made you cry. All I mean to say is that thoughts and feelings and desires are VERY real, and sometimes giving them a name or an image can help us sort through the complicated parts of ourselves! And it can mean whatever we want. It doesn’t mean we’re delusional, or violent or bad, it just means that we’re human. And humans use art to understand themselves and life.

Yes, and cookies. We also enjoy cookies and movies and museums and pleasure and all kinds of things that don’t need an explanation, they just get to be enjoyed, much like the fandom.

Sigh. No we’re not broken, we’re just human. Well, some of us are human and some of us are avatars, but we both need Love. And cookies. They’re ready? Okay good, this existential and literary crisis has made me very hungry. When in doubt, try to remember that feelings and thoughts are neutral, it’s what you DO with those emotions that defines their meaning and external impact.

In closing, Pedge and I just want you to know how much we like you. You’re good. You’re not bad. Okay, you’re not PERFECT. You’re just you, and we like that. Keep doing your best! Keep exploring, keep learning, keep growing, keep wanting! And if there are some emotions that feel too big even for cookies to handle, think about getting your own therapist, like me! Pedge is currently occupied, so you’ll have to get your own. Mostly, just be good to yourself and be good to others. And remember that sometimes a cookie is just a cookie. Yes, Pedge, you’ve done an extraordinary job with this batch, I must say. Yes Pedge. I love you too.

*thanks @thecutestgrotto for the dividers!

Tags

smut lgbtq pedro pascal joel miller tlou self h@rm max phillips pedro dave york pedro pascal fan fiction pedro pascal fan fic

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pedges-world

1 year ago

Sweet Dreams

This is my first time writing for tumblr OR writing lite smut, so as my therapist might suggest, “I’m not accepting feedback at this time”. Lol. It’s okay. Just be gentle, I have a lot to learn, but that can be fun too…I was a little hesitant to mention the man himself, sans character choice, but I think we all can understand that this is a FICTION and offered in the most respectful and self-indulgent ways possible.

Triggers: little bit of fluff, little bit of smut, handjob, mentions of chronic illness, insomnia, lite themes of somnophilia with consent, female reader, 18+ only

This was fucking ridiculous. You’d always known there would be peaks and valleys, but you were fed up with the inconsistencies of your body. Having a chronic illness was always a challenge, but feeling helpless was the worst symptom of all. P was the first person who didn’t make you feel like a complete invalid. Gently turning over, so as not to wake him, you silently rubbed your eyes raw, cursing your weakness. Some partner. Your breath caught in your throat as he licked his lips, starting to wake up. “You okay?” he mumbled sleepily, wrinkling his nose like a small child.

Shit. “It’s okay baby, go back to sleep” you whispered, annoyed that your insomnia was ruining the night for both of you. He arched an eyebrow, squinting just enough to see you in the early morning light. “What’s up?” he rasped, starting to lean upwards on his elbow, moving the palm of his other hand to your back. Your lower lip started to wobble immediately, propelled by fatigue and exhaustion.

“I can’t do anything right” you grumbled, voice cracking with defeat.

“Hey, come on. That’s my person…” he trailed off a little blurrily. “What are we doing here? Advil? Water? Hugs?” he questioned, shifting as he pulled you into his body.

Crumpled against his chest, lightly fingering his white t-shirt, your eyes darkened with an idea.

I’ll show…me, you thought, snaking your hand down the middle of your bodies, trailing down his hard chest, soft stomach and bristling pubic hair.

“Oh…mm” his eyes flashed open in confusion as you cupped his groin with one hand, moving your palm slowly over his gray sweatpants.

“I…I’m not sure…ohhhh…” he swayed slightly, bucking his hips in surprise. “Is this a new therapeutic technique you read about?” he smirked into the pillow, furrowing his eyebrows together.

“This could be deeply therapeutic, if we include mouth to mouth” you teased.

“Happy to be of servic…” he hissed in quickly, starting to harden under your ministrations as you quickly moved under the fabric.

Down. Up. Around. (repeat). Down. Up. Around. (repeat)

A small whimper escaped his lips. Maybe you COULD do something right, you pondered, as his fingers wrapped around your wrist with encouragement.

“Mmmm…” he started to moan, rhythmically moving with your hand.

Down. Up. Around (repeat). Down. Up. Around (repeat)

Down. Up. Around (repeat). Down. Up. Around. (repeat)

Dragging a pearl of precum higher up the shaft, you noticed his breath hitch and twist inside his chest, trembling slightly.

“Babe, is this hel…hellllping?” he sighed, his eyelids fluttering in ecstasy.

Oh this is helping, you mused, biting down on your lower lip. What a f@cking specimen, unraveling in front of you. You moved up to bite his chin, nuzzling the stubble on his beard and beginning to suck on his neck. “Is this okay?” you vibrated into his sternum, and then straddling his legs in one motion.

“More than ohhhhhh…” he barely got out before bucking his hips upward, chasing his orgasm.

Down. Up. Around (repeat). Down. Up. Around (repeat)

It was the sexiest of meditations and soon began to reach an intoxicating fervor.

“Oh, I can’t…ohhhh…I can’t…ohhh…”

“Sh baby, sh…You can. Cum. Cum all over me. Let me see you…”

And it was all happening, the contented moan of release, the hot stickiness radiating over your stomach, the musky smell of salt. You worked him through his pleasure and smiled contentedly. You COULD do something right, you surmised, reaching over for some tissues.

“Oh gawwwwd…” he exhaled, looking up through heavy eye-lids. “What the f@ck just happened, baby? Are we doing you next?”

Not tonight, you pouted internally, but he was already sinking lower into the mattress, pulled down by euphoria.

“Just sleep, my honey. Rest.” you cooed, as he shivered slightly, disappearing back into the warmth of dreams and the comfort of your embrace. He nuzzled into your chest as you lightly fingered the locks of his hair.

Knowing him, if you ever fell asleep, you would find him pulling you back to life, with his curly haired head between your thighs, and his tongue around both your lips. Maybe insomnia wasn’t that bad after all, you thought, cautiously drifting into an anticipatory haze.