#i first traded sex for material goods at fifteen so if i wanted to count those years i'd have been doing it way longer than that

[tinystepsforward]

i also realise there's people who are gonna be like "you expect me to believe that tony tinystepsforward is 29, disabled, a sex worker of nearly a decade, worked at automattic for six years, and someone who does as much organising with local trans and prison abolitionist and sex worker spaces as they seem to imply" and frankly you can believe i'm lying if you want, that's your right, just block me or w/e you don't have to be here. but yes i do in fact both work to eat and work for a better world. i just happen to be the kind of person who really struggles with inertia and is always doing a million things. kiasu, as my singaporean friends still call me, though i don't think i fit the classic archetype there at all — it's not a fomo thing as much as a having poor judgement about the feasibility of the ways i want to be generous with my time and energy and skills. i'm working on it. i would like to learn how to rest.

[crystxlclear]

‘tis the damn season

a sudden desire oneshot

masterlist

pairing: marcus pike x original female character (coraline meyer)

word count: 2.6k

synopsis: the holidays are stressful and coraline can’t sleep.

warnings: mentions of pregnancy/birth, the absolute mildest of innuendos/sex references, nothing else really?

author’s note: au i guess? but also, look, i won’t lie to you, this is dreadful and barely christmas-themed at all. but i wanted to write soft coraline and marcus moments sooooooo yeah whatever

She’s been sitting on the front porch for a few minutes now. On the porch swing, the one he’d insisted they buy - (‘it’s all part of the vision! We need a porch swing!’ he’d said, and who was she to argue with that?) - and, even despite the blanket she’d wrapped tightly around herself, the cold still seeps in right down to the bone.

D.C. winters, she’s come to learn in those few short years she’s lived here, are harsh and unforgiving some days. Her breath comes out in cloudy puffs before her, shivers pulling tight through her aching limbs, even as she tugs her jacket closer around her. She cups a mug of coffee in her hands, craving the shot of caffeine, a futile attempt to keep herself comfortable outside; her fingers tingle with the slowly-spreading warmth but the drink has long since gone cold. Nothing seems to keep her warm outside on days like this.

The day’s first few wisps of snow have begun to fall. She’d missed it those few years she lived in California, when even in the winter the sun still seemed to shine too brightly and far too warm for her winter coats. Growing up had been all white Christmases every year and she hadn’t realised how much she’d missed them until she’d ventured to D.C, until the world had paled to white while she slept and the chill crept in.

It’s early still, the sun rising slowly, pooling cool light between the clouds that stretch across the pale sky. She squints up at this softly lit sky. It’s almost as white as the snow that gathers on the sidewalk. It seems about as Christmas-y as Christmas can be, without the novelty and the merriment and the over-the-top persistence of decoration. Moments like these steal her breath in their beauty; the quiet whisper of the wind, the stillness of the trees and the rare silence that has grown far-too-unfamiliar to her these past few years. She savours the rare moment to breathe, to reacquaint herself with the simple comforts of the world that seem to pass her by as she spends her days wrapped up in the inside happiness she’s craved for years. She savours these moments as often as she can, now, for - as much as she adores her little family with every ounce of strength she holds - sometimes a little moment to think, alone to the silence, is all it takes for her to clear her mind and relax the tense set of her shoulders.

But she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“Sunshine?” His gentle voice calls from the doorway. So familiar, so comforting, so warm. “Everything okay?”

Marcus Pike watches her with a fond expression. His eyes are still heavy from sleep, she can tell by his slow blinks. The first time he’d found her missing from their bed, when they’d first moved in together, he’d raced down the stairs, almost tripping on the last step before he noticed her wrapped up on the porch swing outside. He sleeps like the dead - long days and piles of paperwork - and rarely wakes when she does. Lately, though, he seems to be in tune with her body and always settles beside her a little while after she leaves their sheets.

He regards her with the softest of smiles and reaches his hand out to rest lightly against her shoulders as he sits down beside her. The bench swings as he moves and he chuckles. She’d missed the comfort and warmth of his embrace when she’d left in the early hours of the morning - far too exhausted and anxious to sleep any longer - slipping into the kitchen in search of a hot drink and her old Death Cab for Cutie mug, content to sit outside in the cold until someone needed her, watching the snowfall as the day breaks.

Usually, Marcus’ arms cradle her asleep, the weight and warmth of them enough reassurance to send her back to her dreams. But, today, worry crept in and the couple of hours of rest she’d managed was all her body seemed to want to allow her.

It’s Coraline’s and Marcus’ turn to host Christmas this year. They and Coraline’s brother share the job between them, each year different to the next. This year, every room of their house seems to be filled with different members of their families; Coraline’s parents in one spare room, Marcus’ in the office, Coraline’s younger brother on a blow-up mattress surrounded by colourfully wrapped presents for and from each one of them. Coraline has spent the past two months preparing, trying to make everything perfect, and the bags under her eyes that have appeared the past few days tell the story of the exhaustion that has consumed her. But, yet, there’s still an exhausted, fulfilling happiness that has found a home inside her chest. She can’t seem to find it within herself to be upset or stressed.

“Everything’s fine, now,” she tells him gently, curling into his side. His arm around her shoulder pulls her into his chest, the familiarity of his body so utterly reassuring.

She can’t seem to believe anything could be wrong with him by her side.

They’ve barely been able to find a spare moment to spend together for the past few weeks; between the Christmas prep, kids, family sweeping into town, and work, the only time they can seem to spare are the couple of minutes spent wrapped in each other’s arms just before they fall asleep, weary and glad for the embrace of the other.

Now, the world is still. And it’s just them, alone, for the first time in weeks, as the rest of the house sleeps, blissful in their dreams.

“I was worried when I woke up and you weren’t there,” he tells her. His hand reaches up to brush through her hair; she hasn’t brushed it and now it’s tangled from a night of restless sleep. He drops a kiss to her temple, a gentle gesture of comfort she hadn’t even realised she needed until he touches her.

“You always worry about me.” Coraline chuckles. “You don’t have to, baby,” she insists. Coraline sighs, content, as she rests her head against Marcus’ chest and dances her fingers over the thin material of his shirt. He’s still wearing the clothes he’d passed out in the night before, the same loose well-worn pyjama pants and loose white t-shirt he always wears to lounge around the house in, and it smells so strongly of his cologne that she’s sure she could drown in it. It’s one of the t-shirts he leaves for her when he leaves for a case, the one she slips into her suitcase when she’s away for work. Sometimes, it feels like she wears the shirt more often than he does. “I didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful and waking you would have been selfish.”

“Oh, Sunshine,” he hums as his lips press into her hair. “Sometimes-” She can feel his grin, bright and broad and cheeky, the kind of smile he flashes when he cracks a joke or makes an innuendo or teases her until she blushes. She can tell what’s coming. “-I happen to like it when you’re selfish.”

Always such a damn flirt.

“Well-“ Coraline’s attempts to flirt back are cut short by a yawn that rips through her, stealing her breath. Instead, she just takes to burying her face further into Marcus’ chest; she can feel her eyelids growing heavy, again, the relieving feeling of sleep welcoming her back. The feel of Marcus holding her close inspires comfort in her chest. It’s mornings like these that she thanks God she gets to settle in his arms every single day. Choosing him was the best decision she ever made.

“Take the day off, Sunshine.”

“Mmm-” Coraline shakes her head. “Can’t. Too much to do.”

If she could, she would. Her back is aching. There’s pain spiking up her spine, uncomfortable every time she moves. But there’s too much to do and she’s rushed off her feet thanks to hosting Christmas for fifteen people. Still, his offer is far more alluring than it should be.

“I think-” Marcus’ hand sweeps over her stomach, pushing up beneath her shirt, dancing along her bare skin. Light fingers that soothe an ache she hasn’t even realised she has. “-that you deserve it.”

“You think?” She questions, voice low, arms winding around him to hold him tightly against her. The blanket she’d cradled around her falls away, sliding down to her waist and off her shoulders, but Marcus keeps her warmer than it ever could. She doesn’t need it anymore. Coraline tilts her head up; her nose brushes the side of his neck before her lips do, and he sighs when he feels the gentle touch of her kiss against his skin. He still smells faintly of the cologne he’d been wearing the day before, the smell she can never quite place save for the orange and vanilla that trails welcome behind it.

“You just want me to say ‘yes’ so you have an excuse to go back to sleep.”

Coraline yawns again. She muffles the sound against Marcus’ t-shirt, like he won’t be able to tell she’s tired if she does. “Not true. Can’t sleep, anyway. It’s Christmas,” she insists, like it’s obvious. She may no longer be a kid but the excitement of Christmas and everything that it entails is still the most wonderful thing to her. She doesn’t think she’ll ever grow tired of the feeling that comes when you wake early to the notion of festivity. “As if Ellie would ever let me sleep in.” She chuckles.

“Well, she is a momma’s girl.”

“Oh, please. She can’t get enough of you.” Coraline quirks an eyebrow towards him. “You’re a soft touch, Mr. Pike.”

Elizabeth Pike, or Ellie, affectionately, seems to have inherited every good trait from both Coraline and Marcus, even at two-years-old. She’s bright and sweet and smiles more than both of them. Marcus often jokes that she’s making up for her difficult birth by being constantly happy. She’s all they’ve ever wanted and more and, sometimes, Coraline has to take a moment when she realises just how lucky she is.

The past few weeks, at 6 am, on the dot, she bounds into their room, footsteps surprisingly heavy for a small two-year-old, and jumps on the bed yelling about Santa and if it was time for Christmas yet. She jumps until Coraline or Marcus woke and give in to her giggles and pleas for cereal. Lately, though Coraline has been awake before her daily daybreak visits, worried that everything is going to go wrong and she’s going to let everyone down after Kimmy and Daniel’s day last year.

Mostly she just wants things to be good for Ellie and Marcus.

If they’re happy, then that’s all that matters.

“Always for you two, Mrs Pike,” Marcus laughs softly. “That’s why you married me.”

“Oh no, I married you because I wanted an excuse to wear a pretty dress for a day.” Coraline nuzzles Marcus’ cheek before leaning up to kiss him. It’s slow and sweet, lazy in the best possible way as they both struggle to stay awake leaning into the warmth of each other. It always leaves her breathless, every time he kisses her, like it’s the first time outside her apartment all those years ago. She wants things to stay this way forever, like every time is the first time.

“Well, in that case, it was worth it just to see you in that dress,” he whispers against her lips. He tucks a strand of unruly hair behind her ear. “You looked so beautiful that day.”

Coraline knows that day was never something Marcus imagined. She’d known from the start that there might never be more, that he’d never want more commitment than what they already had between them. That he’d be too worried, his past tainting his future. And she was okay with that. Coraline knows the rings she wears didn’t come lightly; he’s had his heart broken one too many times and God knows he deserves a happy ending. She’ll always be glad he chose her. That he asked her something he never thought he’d ever ask someone again.

“Best decision I ever made.”

When she pulls back to look at him, he’s looking at her with so much adoration that she feels like crying. The neighbours have left their Christmas lights on; they sparkle in his brown eyes. She almost kisses him again, but if she starts she doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to stop until someone either interrupts them - and they’ll spend the entire day embarrassed and red-faced around whoever finds them - or they all but freeze to death in the snow.

“What did I ever do to deserve you, beautiful?” He rasps, leaning forward to nip at her jaw, pressing sweet kisses across her skin.

She grins, as bright as the sun on a summer’s day and sighs contentedly at the brush of his lips. “Do you want one of your Christmas presents early?” She questions. It almost seems to come out of nowhere. But she’s been wanting to say something for a week now, waiting for the right moment, and she just can’t hold it in any longer.

“I’m not sure we can do that kind of thing on the front porch, Sunshine.” He smirks against her jaw. He misses the amused roll of her eyes.

“Not that,” Coraline scoffs, threading her fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck, twisting one gentle around her pointer finger. He’s grown his hair out a little recently - they’ve been so busy lately that haircuts haven’t been a priority, but she thinks the curls that fall over his forehead suit him. She doesn’t want him to ever cut his hair, but she thinks it might be selfish for her to ask him that. “This is much better.”

“Better than that?” He pulls back to look her in the eyes and he’s practically beaming. “It must be good, then.”

“Oh, I think you’ll like it, my love.”

“You sure?” He quirks an eyebrow, teasing and playful.

Coraline nods. She leans forward, her lips pressing against the shell of his ear before she whispers: “I’m pregnant.”

Marcus shoots back; his eyes are wide, wild and shocked, and she can’t tell if there are tears in his eyes or if it’s just the reflection of the Christmas lights again. His mouth falls open a couple of times, the words failing him, and Cora can’t help but grin. His face is a mirror image of the time she fell pregnant with Ellie, when he hadn’t believed their luck, just a couple of months before their wedding. “Seriously?”

When she nods, he reaches for her and tugs her into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around her, holding her tight into his chest. “Another baby. We’re having another baby,” he chants, over and over, muffled by her hair as his strong arms loop around her torso and hold her so tightly that she almost can’t breathe.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” Coraline whispers, lips dropping to his neck.

“Merry Christmas, Sunshine.”

taglist: @wheresthewater @ah-callie