Afterglow A Different Happy Ending

Moody Pena

I've been having so much fun with mood boards, I hope writers can utilize them for inspiration! Appropriately titled, one of my favorite authors is @jolapeno and I've saved a billion of their fics for late night sexy literature. I hope you will check some of them out and stay tuned for our next installment of New York, New York. Pedge finds himself auditioning for "Narcos" in the Big Apple and needs YOUR help...

Make Me Like the Holidays Soft Joel The Day Frankie Came Home Can You Ever Really Know? I Like the Way You... It's the Sniffles Late Night Texts Do Me Yourself Unwrap Me Now Don't Move Honey Just Thinking... Fifteen Hundred and One There's Nothing Blue About You

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!

My Darling Muse, My Darling Dieter (iii)

Dieter is in LOVE. He's just not sure if he's met them yet. But in the interim, he's keeping a journal to house all of his inspiration, poetry and recipes, before they fly out of his head. And once he meets the ONE...or ONES...this is going to be his gift to you. Along with those sexy time IOU's he's always handing out. Love this post @for-a-longlongtime, and inspired by the @auteurdelabre Trope-Off (Dieter Bravo/Pen Pals)...

Trigger: it's Dieter bub so this series will DEFINITELY include profanity, drugs, alcohol, sex, smut and any meanderings D wants...He's endlessly inspired by art, poetry, songs, sex and YOU! Workplace vibes...

Dieter's Art Studio

My Darling Dieter,

Oh silly muffin! I was so excited to receive your postcard and hear more about your spiritual sojourn! I know you are doing research for your reawakening, but I still miss you terribly and our intimate spongebaths. Be sure to keep all your sketches limited to postcards and not the originals....Yours, J

My Darling Dieter,

Racoon! Your travels sound absolutely amazing, it will be just the thing to take your mind off of awards season. YOU are the true gift! My Darling, is it just me or are some of these pictures a bit....erotic? I definitely recognize the artist, but I can't quite put my finger on it....Love, J

My Darling Dieter,

Oh my! My neighbors are fantastically scandalized as they keep intercepting your postcards and complaining about their content. I told them IT'S ART!!! Although, I'm not 100% sure if these images are being displayed in their purest form. Sweet D, I think you've taken some artistic liberties... Yours, J

My Darling Dieter,

There is something about these pieces I can't stop looking at. I find myself drawn into a void-like, dreaming state, thinking about you Mr. Darling D. I think they might be flowers of some kind! But I find them very erotically charged! I can't seem to concentrate on anything else! Are you coming home soon? Who is Georgia? Should I be jealous? Love, J

My Darling Dieter,

Need you. Come home now. J.

Hey folks! This is J, Dieter’s PA. The year has been a challenging one, as Dieter has successfully checked himself out of rehab and has embarked on a spiritual journey of artistic expression! I am sad to report that his holiday special, Cliff Beasts 6 1/2; Hannukah Hijinks, was completely snubbed by the Oscars this awards season, so we indulged in many a sponge bath to recouperate. I myself am experiencing some health challenges, and can't accompany D on his exciting embarkation, so he's promised to send postcards from his travels as I attempt to figure out "Where is D?". He keeps mentioning Georgia, so I think he might be in Atlanta, but it's anyone's guess. I've just received his most recent postcard and he's promised to be home any minute! Gotta go! Where will D be next?

*I'm afraid D has taken HORRIBLE liberties with the classic artwork of Georgia O' Keeffe, but I would encourage anyone to view their work in New Mexico and research their stellar artistic contributions and creative friendships with the likes of Frida Kahlo, Ansel Adams and Agnes Martin.

Pedro Pascal naming 4 movies that impacted him the most

'All About Eve' dir. Joseph L. Mankiewicz Margo, an established theatre actress, appoints Eve, an aspiring actress, as her personal assistant. However, Margo is unaware of Eve's intention to take over her career.

'Poltergeist' dir. Tobe Hooper A family's dream home turns into their worst nightmare when evil spirits rise up to torment them and possess the soul of their innocent daughter.

'Do the Right Thing' dir. Spike Lee In a Brooklyn neighbourhood, the long-simmering racial tensions between diverse communities erupt into brutal violence over the course of a single summer day.

'Fanny and Alexander' dir. Ingmar Bergman During the early twentieth century, Fanny and Alexander are the children of the Ekdahl family in a Swedish town. They are living a peaceful life until their father Mr. Oscar dies.

Moody Whiskey

"I got a six pack of cold ones on ice and my roomie's out all night. So you can scream my name as loud as you need to, sugar.”

Moody Gladiator

Alright, we collectively lost our minds and for good reason. Our boy was angelically beautiful, coupled with Paul Mescal who is similarly "easy on the eyes". I'm not sure we can handle all of the press coming up, but we're gonna try...

Use Somebody Song Fic

It's finally here! As per the amazing Song List by MK Frazier, y'all voted on Pedro's favorite selections and the results are in!

Triggers: Soft Dom dynamic, smut, toys, feather, edible wax, silk restraints, safe words, consent, M oral receiving, unprotected P/V in committed relationship, hair pulling, tummy kink, F is described as able bodied/long hair, exploration of intimacy...

I've been roaming around, always lookin' down at all I see Painted faces fill the places I can't reach You know that I could use somebody Someone like you and all you know and how you speak Countless lovers under cover of the street Off in the night, while you live it up, I'm off to sleep Wagin' wars to shape the poet and the beat I hope it's gonna make you notice Someone like me I'm ready now Someone like you…

You looked over at Pedge who was laughing uproariously, eyes alight, watching the television screen like a little kid. The corners of your mouth turned up in delight, but truthfully, you weren’t watching the tv at all. It’s true, Pedge was enough to distract anyone from the allure of the cinema, but you had been particularly silent all evening, twiddling your thumbs with a grandiose plan. You bit your lip in anticipation as the commercials began to scroll and Pedge muted the tv.

“That wasn’t even scripted. It was totally improvised, I mean if you can believe everything you read on the internet…” he reached over to massage your upper thigh as you jumped about a foot.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise as he halted his ill-timed massage. “You know, you’ve been really quiet all night, did you want to watch something else?” he ventured, shutting off the tv.

Your response became even more tight lipped as your eyes widened to saucer shape, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Babe, did I miss something? Everything okay at work?” Pedge started to spiral slightly, unsure of the tone of your upcoming conversation.

“I’m a little…embarrassed…” you began “…or…excited…Maybe both? I’m not quite sure what I’m feeling…”.

Pedge held his breath hesitantly; imagination running wild.

“I’m a little unsure of my next therapeutic request…for our…sexy time adventures…”. This wasn’t coming out the way you had rehearsed in your mind. So much for the art of seduction.

Pedge breathed a small sigh of relief, moving his hand back up your thigh reassuringly, “There’s nothing you can suggest I’m not open to” he smiled. “I mean, I can’t promise to LIKE everything, but I’m a pretty open minded guy. Lemme have it.” He placed his hands in his lap, obediently, waiting for your next move.

“The Dom/Sub dynamic…”

“YES!” he pumped his fist theatrically, eliciting small giggles from you immediately at his enthusiasm. His face resumed an overtly somber expression. “Go on.” You started to breathe normally again, delighted with his expected response, but relaxing your shoulders as he began to massage your feet.

“The Dom/Sub dynamic has caught my attention once again…”

“Babe, let me stop you right there. In anticipation of your request I’ve ordered a few…accoutrements for our sexy time adventures, but I wasn’t sure if you’d be interested…” he began.

Your mouth fell open in surprise, eyes squinting with incredulity. “I’m sorry, have you been developing your powers of telepathy?” you laughed, crawling onto his lap in a smooth motion and placing your hands on either side of his patchy beard.

“That’s correct. I can tell you’ve been doing the same, since you divined my pursuits” he joked, layering his hands over yours and kissing you lightly on the mouth. “Is this what you’ve been thinking about all evening?”

“Yeaaaaaah….” you pouted “but it’s a bit more complicated, as usual…” you continued. “Everything I was reading about never made any sense. I mean, not for me and my desires. There was all this stuff about humiliation, and degradation…and whips and shackles…”

“WHIPS AND SHACKLES?” his eyes lit up even more than before, grinning broadly from ear to ear and digging his fingers into your waist aggressively.

“Hold up there, mister!” you laughed, squirming underneath his touch “As fun as that sounds I might have to work up to it” you admitted. “I’m a soft Dom”.

Pedge halted for a second, aligning himself with what you just said and swallowing loudly. “A soft dom” he phrased it not as a question, but as a statement, opening himself up to the possibility.

“The softest” you whispered, sucking on his neck with feather light kisses. You felt his body shudder underneath you slightly as you blew a light breath over the wet marks your lips had left. “I’m actually a little concerned for your safety” you teased, somewhat jokingly, but with caution.

“I can be soft” he intoned, chest rumbling with depth.

“You’re not gonna be soft…” you reached down to start massaging his length gently “you’re gonna be hard” you began, feeling him melt underneath you and twitch with anticipation.

“When do we start?”

Pedge may have purchased a few items of interest, but you had been planning this possibility for a month. You set up a small table of toys at the side of the bed, as Pedge lay excitedly, waiting for instruction, and thumbing through the bondage cards in his lap.

“Are you ready for me?” you called from the bathroom, prepping yourself with nervousness.

“Honey, after that monologue you gave me in the living room, I don’t even know what to be ready for…” he admitted “I guess I’m….ready for anything!” his voice cracked slightly trying to find a mix of confidence and vulnerability.

“Okayeeee, ready or not, here I come!” you taunted, emerging from the bathroom in the pinkest of negligees you had ever purchased. Your breasts were on full voluptuous display, and the pink lace parted at your crotch for easy access. Pedge’s mouth dropped open, voraciously drinking you in, as the cards sloppily fell to the ground.

“Oops!” you giggled, dropping to your knees and sweeping up the cards for later games, and placing them back on the table.

“What do I do first?” he whispered, unsure of where to put his hands.

“Well, this is all about consent. You’re gonna give me an enthusiastic yes for everything before we do it” you drawled, watching his head nod in agreement. “It’s not a game, this is very real” you assured him, slowly picking up the large pink feather from the bedside table.

“What’re you gonna do with that?” he grinned brightly, rubbing his feet together with excitement.

“Just relax, sir. If I tell you everything that’s going to happen tonight, you’re not going to be surprised. Close your eyes for me”. Pedge snapped his eyes shut quickly, palms up on the bed, waiting for…something. You smiled to yourself, twirling the large feather in your hand. Oh this was gonna be fun. And nobody was gonna get hurt in the process. You were gonna take this man’s soul apart, and put him back together again.

You saw Pedge trying to steady himself, breathing deeply. One minute went by. Two minutes. You looked over at the table of toys in amazement. Silk restraints, a pink paddle…your eyes widened at the…spreader bar? You bit your lip with anticipation, moving to the side of the bed stealthily, feeling a powerful throbbing sensation between your legs, slightly intoxicated with the soft power flowing through your veins. When you finally dangled the feather above his belly button he jumped with sensitivity, hissing in surprise.

“Sorry babe, this is kind of uncharted territory” he apologized, opening one eye to find you gazing down at him intently.

“Was that a little too soft?” you questioned licking your lips hungrily, drawing the feather up and down his torso and between his legs.

“Don’t know” he laughed with some embarrassment. “I’m not used to being this…uh…pliant. But I’m all about the YES!” Pedge shifted innocently, balling his fists tightly alongside him on the bed. “Relax” you whispered into his ear, watching him melt into the mattress as you dragged the feather over his face seductively. Ghosting your lips over his face, his jaw, and his neck. Watching his chest rise and fall quickly, unsure of which sensation to anticipate next.

“It’sall pretty new” he sighed, relaxing his fingers and wiggling slightly in an attempt to relieve the tension. You smiled with acknowledgement, reaching over for a new toy. 

“I can see that” you observed, relishing his online selection with inquisitiveness and lighting a candle to prep.

He cleared his throat with momentary discomfort, “Yeah, we can indulge our inner arsonist…as long as we don’t accidentally light the apartment on fire” he laughed, jaw immediately slackening as you dangled the candle precariously over his soft stomach. He tried to stifle a loud gulp as you tentatively dipped your pinky in, to check the temperature. “It’s a little hot” you warned, bringing your finger into your mouth and sucking the wax.

Pedge bobbed his head enthusiastically, all words momentarily flung out of his mind.

“Strawberry! How’d you know?” you twinkled, dragging your tongue across your teeth like a Cheshire Cat, beaming at his proud response. Dipping into the melted wax you plunged your coated finger into his belly button eliciting a soft hum as he twitched underneath contentedly. 

“More” he whispered, “please”, attempting to calm the shake in his voice.

You felt the corners of your mouth tug upward as you began to drip a messy, snaking line of edible wax across the plane of his stomach. Now salivating as his skin glistened and puckered, you heard him hiss beneath you, writhing with the tickling sensation. Carefully setting the candle back, you crawled up and straddled his hips drawing a long, strong swipe of your tongue from navel to sternum, never breaking eye contact to see his response. His eyes darkened, white knuckling the sheets with intensity.

“That tickles” he rasped.

“I thought it might” you managed to get out before sucking at his nipples and nibbling down his torso. It was a pretty messy venture, licking and biting to catch all the waxy remnants. His hands gently gripped your head, massaging his fingers through your scalp.

“Is this okay? Can I touch you?” his voice had a gravelly edge to it, as you sucked into his navel.

“Absolutely” you mumbled into his belly button, relishing the strawberry snack. Finally reaching his happy trail you inhaled deeply, moving the tip of your nose in a broad circle, soaking in the musky aroma of his arousal and moaning with approval. Pausing to breathe and resting your chin just above his stomach you noticed his forehead wrinkling in concentration. You reached up to draw your fingers across his eyebrows. “Look at me for a second…”, you coo’d watching his eyes fly open confusedly.

“Am I doing it wrong?” he blurted out with concern.

Reaching up to circle your fingers around his nipples and pinching playfully. “No such thing, my honey” you dripped, feeling pools of desire between your legs, magnetically drawn to the steady heat of his body. You dragged your hands broadly down his sticky, wax coated chest.

“I don’t know any ‘supposed to’s’ really. I just like the way you feel. I wanna make sure you like the way you feel…” you explained, drawing your fingers down his sides and back up, watching the goosebumps splay across his honeyed skin. “Did you know that you have all the power right now?”

“I do?” he sparkled, completely mesmerized by the soft, open creature atop him.

“Yeahhhh…” you sighed, reaching over for the silk restraints and drawing them between your fingers seductively. His eyes glazed over as you drew his wrists together in front of his body, placing them over his stomach.  “But sometimes you don’t want that…” you started to wrap the silken fabric loosely around his wrists, kissing his fingers and biting at them softly.

“I don’t” he uttered somewhere between a question and an answer, completely lost in this new activity and your hypnotic stare. You leaned forward, vibrating into the soft suckle of his mouth as he exhaled beneath you.

“Oh yes” you breathed. “You can already feel yourself losing control just a little…”

“I can” his eyelids fluttered shut as he absentmindedly bucked his hips slightly with anticipation. 

“Tell me how your body feels” you questioned, gently sucking on his earlobe.

He swallowed dryly, keeping his eyes closed with determination. “I’m feeling…floaty…a little nervousssss…” he inhaled quickly with surprise.

You had reached behind you to hold his length in the palm of your hand, feathering your fingertips down the shaft and arriving at the tip which was dripping precum. He mewled happily as you slid your body down his torso, grabbing at his chest and nuzzling your face back into his manhood. Hovering over his stiffening member you decided to kitten lick the head, swirling the fleshy underside of your tongue around the tip and enjoying the salty taste.

“That’s okay, because you’re going to feel softer and softer and softer…” you VERY carefully grazed your teeth over his plumping length “as you get harder and harder and harder”. A whisper of a moan flew from his lips as he desperately tried to stay still.

Keeping your eyes trained on him you gently suckled at the tip, bobbing your head lightly and fluttering your tongue in butterfly like movements.

“Oh gawwwwd” he broke the silence, nearly startling you with the force of his voice “Fuuuuuck…” he whimpered, a nearly pained expression crossing his face. “It’s….uhgn…so….OH…soooooo….” you reached up to massage the underside of his quads and buttocks. Sucking and massaging and swirling and pinching.

Pedge started babbling incoherently, his sentences occasionally laced with words, “Baby it’s….OH GOD…I can’t quite….OH GOD…if I just….OH GOD…”. You could see a film of sweat start to coat his forehead, shining in the candle’s flickering light, as he bit his lower lip, nearly drawing blood.

Your eyes grew wide with intensity, trying to read his body and the many sensations. You felt that quintessential tightening in his lower body and a light tremor, but truthfully, something seemed a little off. You slowed your approach, watching his face relax with relief, and pull your lips down his member with a satisfying pop.

“Honey? Talk to me, do I need to go slower…” you asked with concern.

He seemed at a loss for words, eyes glazed over with an unreadable emotion.

“So much” he was breathing heavily, collapsed back on the bed, voice nearly cracking with effort. You quickly reached up and undid the restraints. 

“Do we need to stop?” you tried to hide the urgency in your voice, but your worst fears were starting to materialize in your imagination. You tenderly massaged his wrists and kissed the inner palm of his hand cautiously. “Why didn’t you use your safe word? Did you forget?” your heart started fidgeting wildly in your chest. Pedge caught his breath and gathered his surroundings again, taking you in with the tender gaze of his brown eyes.

“Honey” he started, tearing up ever so slightly. “Is this what it’s like for you?” he ventured, rubbing his eyes with emotion and trying to pull himself back together.

“What do you mean?” you asked in a hushed tone, wildly concerned you had overstepped.

“So beautiful” he reached up and cupped your face with one hand. “So beautiful” he repeated, as you closed your eyes and hummed contentedly. “I can’t…” he dropped his hands with exasperation. “I started floating away” he laughed tiredly, falling back on the bed with incredulity. “It was like…I couldn’t say no” he covered his face with his hands in embarrassment.

Your cheeks reddened with pride, pulling his hands lightly away from his face. “We can stop if it’s too much” you drew your finger across his bottom lip. “Are you having a hard time letting go?”

He nodded. “I just wasn’t ready for how soft everything was…I’ve never felt…like that…Like…I was you. Or, something weird. Like…my body…wasn’t here…or….it was everywhere….Jesus, what candle did I buy???” he started laughing with abandon.

You smiled, giggling with relief, “Should we stop now?” you thumbed his chin playfully, waiting for further instructions.

“Gawd no!” he whined, lifting you underneath your elbows and biting at your neck. “That was fucking amazing! I just need another chance…I’m the YES man!” he seemed to get a second wind, determined to demonstrate his willingness.

Your entire countenance collapsed with relief, hugging him tightly and passionately kissing him till you were both out of breath.

“Okay, take two” you smiled. “Now we know what we’re doing, that was just the sexy time rehearsal” you smirked, starting to move your hips in a circular motion over his stomach. Pedge took a deep breath, grazing his hands over your breasts and massaging lightly.

“Understood” he swallowed.

“And you remember your safe word?”

You started sucking lightly at his neck.

“YES!”

“And you’re going to use it if you feel yourself going somewhere you don’t like?”

You kissed down his sternum and swirled your tongue across his mid-drift.

“Oh yes….” he whimpered, begin to harden again underneath you.

“Because you want to let go for me…You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?”

You looked up to see him wordlessly mouth “yes” as you massaged his length up and down

You eased down to notch the tip of him at your dripping entrance as he brought his hands under the orbs of your ass, in a basket hold. Slowly, so very slowly, you lowered yourself onto him, taking in every delightful inch, sheathing yourself around his member. Dropping your head forward, your hair cascaded around you both in messy ringlets, pressing your hands into his chest for support. A low groan rumbled through his sternum as you both took a moment to enjoy the connection of your joined bodies, breathing in tandem and moving to intertwine your fingers through his locks of hair.

“You’re minnnnne….” you growled enticingly, eyes lustfully at half mast, drawing your fingers harshly across his scalp and pulling the hair taut. “Do you want that? Do you want to be mine?”.

“Minnnne, ohhhh, yes…soooo…much…yourssss….” he repeated as you circled your hips in a languid pattern.

“And you’re going to let me use you” you moaned, gaining intensity and moving your hands lightly to the sides of his neck, as he drew his knees up under your body for leverage.

“Uuu—-uuuu—-uuse me” he started to intone, beginning to unravel underneath your body.

“And you can just let…” you gasped slightly, feeling him twitch inside you “you can just let go, because I’ve got you. I’ve got you…I’ve got you…” you started whispering on repeat, overwhelmed by the intimacy of the moment and floating into your own euphoria.

You felt P’s hips stutter and begin to shake with abandon, gripping the base of his neck as the pleasure intensified beyond belief. A white hot, searing light began to radiate through your core, rushing upwards and sideways and engulfing your body in flames of desire. Completely overwhelming, completely overpowering. You heard your voice release in ecstasy, outside of your own body, aglow with sensation.

In a haze of weightlessness and timelessness you felt P pulse underneath you as you fluttered around him. Strong arms gripped you around your torso as he came hard with ribbon after ribbon of heat, pouring into you and through you and dripping out of you. Melting into each other’s bodies you fell sideways in an embrace, intertwined in delight. Breathing heavily, you floated between disembodiment and pure clarity, feeling his length housed securely in your sex, still throbbing around him.

Being still. Coming back into your own body, feeling your breath expand outward, piecing your soul back together, your eyelids fluttered open to regain a sense of reality. 

And there he was. Eyes closed in rapture, smiling contentedly, lips parted peacefully. 

Yours. 

You kissed him lightly on the mouth, and as though breathing life into him, his eyes opened, reflecting dark pools of tranquility. You lay, nose to nose, breathing one another in and out for what seemed like an eternity, afraid to break the moment.

A single tear slid down your cheek as he reached up to wipe it away.

“Yes” he said. “A thousand times, yes”.

Pedro-Tober #3

Inspired by @alyssamariag and @norththelemon I've decided to feature curated pics/art, juxtaposed with fics and AI inspired Bitmoji. So much artistry to celebrate this October, we have our hands full. Look at these amazing artists!

Series Masterlist

13.) Javi Gutierrez: Afterglow Fic (Phoenix Rising) @pedges-world

14.) Freebie! IG: @art_faraday

15.) The Materialists: @norththelemon

16.) Whiskey: @alyssamariag

17.) Arm Sling: IG: @amakuni_s

18.) Oberyn Martell: IG: @vanessadraws

19.) SDCC: IG @vanessadraws

Also, Pedge and I are "Trick or Treating"! DM me to play!

WIP; In Cold Blood

I think this was from "The Uninvited" press interviews, but our guy had such a scruffy, Columbo-like quality, it seemed very Rockford coded to me. The Cannes looks are so gorgeously coifed, but I also love seeing our guy at his casual best...

He seemed to feel the magnetic quality as well, and almost thinking better of it, his sudden intake of air broke the spell abruptly. “I’m going to head into the washroom first, do you need anything?” his voice had an unexpectedly tender quality as you shook your head mutely. Rockford nodded curtly before releasing your hand and meandering towards the washroom. So, he was an army man as well. So many of the boys had been drafted for World War II, but it almost seemed that the world was just realizing the extenuating repercussions more than a decade later. He must have been a kid, maybe nineteen or twenty at the time? You found yourself pensively watching his broad figure head to the bathroom before absentmindedly observing that your past was equally steeped in enigma and mystery. Rockford might be a P.I, but you weren’t sure how much of your unconventional, mid-western beginnings you wanted to divulge. You bit your lower lip hearing the shower spring to life, and couldn’t help but wonder; Perhaps there was more than one mystery to unearth here in Holcomb County, Kansas.

I am having a BLAST with Pedge's Bookshop as we delve further into our film-noir-esque fanfic of "In Cold Blood". Currently working on this next installment, "The Interviews"....

*Thank you @auteurdelabre for our beautiful coloring book!

@littlemisspascal  @lizette50 @beefrobeefcal @sawymredfox @anelva @wordywarriorwrites @burntheedges @inept-the-magnificent @timelordfreya  @schnarfer @devineconjuring @mermaidgirl30 @galaxyedging @joelalorian @joelmillerisapunk @jennaispunk @sheepdogchick3 @marcus-is-my-muse @guiltyasdave  @copperhalfcent @bluesweaters15 @drewharrisonwriter @darkheartgatita @harriedandharassed @brittmb115 @confusedpuffin @yorksgirl @quicax3 @shaunasflannel @shinyanchorobject

Pedge's Tree + Xmas Card

Oh this is fun! Pedge and I have never done this before, so I wanted to get a quick start since I'm late in the season! Pedge and I are currently making cookies! Weeeee! Decorate my tree. I mean...if you want to. Like, if you have time. Pedge says I was being too bossy...but I think he secretly likes it...

Rec's for a Lonely Winter's Evening

Your Fave Things @jolapeno

What Could Go Wrong? @beefrobeefcal

Christmas Writing Challenge @bluestar22x

Let's Celebrate! @chronically-ghosted

Dead Dove December @romana-after-dark

The Cheeseboard @goodwithcheese

Reverie Goods and Gifts