#marcus pike christmas special

[creedslove]

THE PIKE CHRISTMAS 🎄☃️🎁

Marcus Pike x f!reader

Summary: you and Marcus have a daughter together, co-parenting after your relationship ended but one Christmas together might change it all 🎄

Warnings: fluff, mentions of Marcus' disastrous love life, happy ending

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS 🎄🎁

5.7k words

When Olivia was born, Marcus’ life had taken a completely different turn, he had always been a man who dreamed of a family, didn't work with his first wife, then he moved on through a series of relationships that never seemed to take him anywhere until he met Teresa Lisbon. He wouldn't be able to tell why he fell for her as had as he did, he wasn't dumb or clueless as some people assume, he knew she wasn't into him as much as he was into her, and even if that hurt him deep down inside, he thought eventually things would fall right back into place, if she had said yes to his invitation to ditch those pizzas after the end of their mission for pancakes, and then to start sleeping at his place, then going out on a regular basis, until he simply proposed to her in the middle of the hallway at work, it wasn't the most romantic thing he could've done, he was usually a traditional guy, wedding ring, nice dinner, maybe even a serenade and an exchange of love vows before popping the real question, but he did what he could at that moment, what the occasion allowed and thinking of it in retrospect, it was actually a good thing he didn't waste that much time, effort and money into that proposal, because well, even if Marcus Pike was overall a gentle and understanding man, he also would have appreciated if she said no instead of leading him into believing she actually wanted to marry him. It would've hurt him at the time, but just like ripping off a band-aid, it would be quick and straightforward and the pain would go away faster than it did when she cooked him up, giving him hopes for a future together.

So when Teresa broke his heart and treated him as if he was barely an acquaintance to her, he became wary. He didn't like to think of relationships and he closed himself up to any kind of flirtation and stuff like that. He was going through so many changes into his life: a new city, a new position at work, now he wasn't just agent Pike, he was the head of the art department of the FBI, he was a boss, he had more responsibility and less free time, and even if Marcus was aware of his looks and the fact both men and women found him attractive, the fact he was an intelligent man, he made good money and carried a bunch of positive adjectives that could easily get him a possible list of interested women, he chose to step away. So when he met you, he straight up ignored his feelings, the way his palms got sweaty, how pleasant your perfume was and the way his stupid heart skipped a beat whenever you displayed your gorgeous smile at him. A part of him desperately wanted to connect with you, get to know you better, ask you out on a date, and another part of himself begged him not to do it, knowing he wouldn't be able to take another harsh strike of rejection and start over again. Marcus wasn't an old man, he was getting close to middle age, and even if a part of him kept hauntingly reminding him of the fact he hadn't been able to build up a family at that age, he was also so hopeful he was still too young to give up love.

Eventually he couldn't fight his desire for you and a simple lunch between you both escalated to a series of regular dates, and whereas all of his relationships followed the same course of an organized timeline: getting to know each other, officially dating, getting engaged and finally getting married. You, on the other hand, was a complete different ride, it seemed you were going through the same path, following the same stages until you weren't anymore and you showed up at his door on a Thursday night with teary eyes and a pregnancy test in hands, just a few months after you two started dating. That was a whole new ride for him; he was not expecting to become a father even if he wanted to, it still felt too sudden, you both were having more fun than actually having a commitment together, and if he was going to be honest, he didn't actually want to jump into marriage right then, it was risky, scary and he felt it was doomed to be another failure in his love life, he was willing to step up and be a dad to the baby you both were going to have in a matter of months, but he was torn between not wanting to get married just then - as Marcus Pike wasn't opposed to marriage at all - and not wanting to be seen as the asshole who didn't marry the woman he got pregnant. It didn't matter what his colleagues, his family or friends thought of him at that matter, he just didn't want to be seen like that by you. So when you had a heartfelt conversation with him, opening up and listing the reasons why you didn't want to get married he felt a wave of relief over him. You both got to an agreement: you would co-parent your baby, Marcus would pay you child support and everyone would be happy. Even if there was still a lot of mixed feelings, words left unspoken and the prospect of a successful relationship that didn't have enough time to mature on its own, so it was better to close the agreement in being co-parents and friends, it was better than nothing.

You couldn't complain at all, even if you buried deep your feelings for Marcus, he was definitely the best guy to have a baby with, for once, he actually cared about it, he was genuinely happy to become a father even if you weren't a couple any longer, he still made sure to go to all the appointments and exams he was able to, work still got in the way of one or two but he made it to as many as he could. Marcus wouldn't miss the opportunity to get his baby girl whatever he thought she might like some day: toys, clothes, blankets, little shoes. It was a pleasure to spend on her. You still remembered the day he found out you were expecting a girl: he cried. He was never strong enough to hold back his emotions, not when you had a new ultrasound in progress and he could hear his baby's heartbeats loud and clear. And he cried again when you gave birth, he was there the whole time, holding your hand, looking almost as terrified as you were, and the moment her strong little lungs let out a loud wail, you could see the tears running down his cheek freely, warming and melting your heart, mixed up with the pang of not being with Marcus, not going home with him at the end of the day, but with the peaceful assurance you had the luck to find a great man to have a child with.

Olivia was the name picked in agreement by the two of you, but Marcus simply called her Livy, she was his Livy, his sweet tiny little Livy, and even when you asked him why he'd chosen that nickname he shrugged, not having a meaningful or strong explanation, he just liked the sound of it, it made his heart swell with love just to picture the face of that one beautiful princess who would be called his Livy Pike.

The first time you were surprised by the nickname was an odd - but very pleasant evening - you'd spent next to Marcus. He usually had the habit of letting you know when he was going to drop a visit or even call and see if he was allowed to, but that night he got to your place unannounced, looking like he'd had a rough day. He refused your offers to serve him a beer, a glass of wine or even make dinner, he simply asked you to spend some time with you and Olivia, who was still safely tucked in your womb. There was no denying his request, you nodded and lay back on the couch, while he placed his hand on your lap, his face resting against your warm, round pregnant belly and talking to his baby girl. He whispered a bunch of sweet nothings to her, in hopes she would be able to recognize his voice and know how much she was already loved by him. He caressed the sides of your stomach, while your hand went to his smooth, messy hair, playing with his growing curls, exactly the way you used to when you both were a couple, having a glimpse of what life would be like if you two had stayed together after the shock of the pregnancy turned into happiness.

What you didn't know was that Marcus wasn't just having a rough day, it had been more than that, more than just a rough week, it'd been a rough few months. Months of investigation of what was supposed to be pieces of art trafficking, it was supposed to be just about paintings, sculptures and statues being trafficked, but unfortunately, it'd been more than that. It was all a facade for a much worse operation: human trafficking. And that made Marcus so miserable and depressed, he just needed to be reminded there was still something good in the world, he needed time with you and his precious little Livy.

He glanced at your Christmas tree and realized Christmas would be in a few days. He'd been so involved in the investigation and all the tension and stress that comes with it, he had barely acknowledged the upcoming holiday. He hadn't even decorated his apartment like he usually did, he hadn't even bought himself his plane tickets to fly back to Texas and see his family. There was still so much he needed to do but the realization that was going to be the last Christmas he would spend without having a tiny baby in his arms and finally having a little someone call him ‘daddy’, made him smile.

“She'll be here, celebrating with us, next year”

•••

Olivia's first Christmas was going to be printed in Marcus’ memories forever. He didn't actually spend Christmas day with her, as he traditionally went back to his hometown to see his family, but he made sure to get everything done in advance: house decoration, presents, gift-wrapping and everything a dad should be up to on such a special date. Before his baby girl was born, he didn't see the point in decorating only for himself; of course he would set small Christmas tree ornaments and call it a decoration, but that was about it. However, after his precious Olivia came to the world to brighten his life, he felt he owed it to her all the magic he could display. So in a matter of days, Marcus had purchased a brand new Christmas tree, several ornaments and lights and seeing his baby's excited face paid off. One of Pike's favorite memories was when he left a nearly one-year-old Olivia playing with her blocks on the living room carpet for a split second, just to make sure her vegetable soup was ready and returned to find her giggling self ripping off the gift wrap of one of the presents underneath the tree. She didn't know she was supposed to wait a couple of days more, she didn't know technically that was her mama's present, what her daddy had bought you, she just got mesmerized at the bright beautiful colors and went to explore. Marcus felt like he was going to explode into a puddle of love for his daughter. He was truly blessed and forever thankful to you for having got the best present of all.

And so another couple of Christmas passed and his beautiful, lovely, princess Olivia was now a gorgeous and adorable three-year-old toddler, almost going four, which meant Marcus’ heart was often balanced between the pang of seeing his baby grow way too fast and the pride he felt of seeing her blossom into an extraordinary child.

•••

“Higher daddy, higher!” Olivia squealed with happiness and excitement as her dad lifted her up, his grip tight on her sides so she wouldn't slip as she held the angel ornament and put it on top of the tree with tiny little hands. She felt the thrill of being held up so high, because Olivia loved how strong her daddy was and how he always made her fly on his arms; she loved spending weekends at his daddy's place, even if she'd rather have her mommy with them, she still had a lot of fun. Looking around the living, where she had helped her daddy decorate everything, made her happy, she loved the lights, the tree and the little Christmas ballerinas that dance to a sad but beautiful song inside that box. Her daddy had explained to her that it was called “art” and both him and her mommy really liked it, and that art thing made them feel many different things, that was why sometimes something was so pretty that could make her cry.

But Olivia had no time to cry, she was too busy spying the gifts that began to gather around the living room. She knew some were for her, some were for mommy and some were for grandma and grandpa, but most of them were for her. Marcus pulled his daughter closer, snuggling her and feeling her heart beating fast inside her chest. He loved that tiny little princess with all his being, and sometimes such love was overwhelming, as he never really thought he could have something as good as that. He thought of you and his heart dropped a little, picturing what things would have been like if you both had gotten married once you found out about Olivia, he knew you wanted to be free, to work and finish your studies, but he was never oppose to that, if anything, he would've supported you just the same. Even if he wasn't in the right state of mind for a marriage, he still enjoyed picturing you as his wife. He would buy you a beautiful diamond ring, make sure you were happy and satisfied with the life he could provide you, but after some time, he just accepted that maybe the timing wasn't good and his chance was over. Simple as that.

As he put Olivia down and walked to the kitchen with her, he held her hand, who was excitedly waiting for her mac&cheese. His daddy wasn't as much of a good cook as her mommy was, but his mac&cheese was the best in the whole wide world. He served her some in her pink plastic plate and chuckled to see her kicking her legs absent-mindedly while waiting for dinner. Marcus sighed, you were back in his mind, imagine how many family dinners you three could have had together over these years. Of course there were plenty of times you invited Marcus over for dinner, or he did the same with you whenever you were there to pick up Olivia, but it wasn't the same and he just knew it.

“Are you excited for Christmas, baby girl?” He asked Olivia, who chewed her food eagerly, loving the taste of it, seeing her nod and smile.

“I wish we spent it together daddy, you, me and mommy” she pouted, looking like a tiny puppy, which broke Marcus’ heart. He hated that he could never spend that special time with his precious Livy and even more so that you weren't there as well. He cleared his throat and caressed her cheek, her face being tiny against the palm of his hand.

“I'd love that too, honey, but you know, you spend Christmas with mama and I go back to Texas to see grandma and grandpa” he offered her a smile “unless mama let me take you, would you like to go with dada? I bet you'd love to spend a sunny and warm Christmas playing in the pool with your cousins..”

Marcus knew better than anyone he shouldn't really hype up kids the way he just did, but he was also caught in the moment, for a moment he had a glimpse of what spending Christmas day with his daughter would be like, where she could actually visit his parents' home, see his childhood bedroom and the toys he used to play with when he was her age, he would like Olivia to be able to spend that holiday under the warm sun, in one of her gorgeous little dresses, and not in the snowy gray weather of DC. At that moment, he took a decision: he was going to talk to you about it, you had a good relationship, he was sure all it would take was a good conversation and you would let him have Olivia for the holidays, everyone would be happy at end: they would be able to spend more time together and you would have a well-deserved break from the maternity duty.

When you showed up two hours after the time you were supposed to have picked up your daughter, Marcus was aware of your delay, having read the texts you sent warning him of how things at work got complicated and later on how traffic was simply impossible, he did what he could to make your life a little easier, and that included bathing Olivia and helping her into her beautiful reindeer jammies and tucking her in. Then he prepared you a big sandwich, after all, he couldn't cook even if his life depended on it, but if there were two things he could make like a champ, was definitely his mac&cheese and his gigantic sandwiches. He immediately opened the door to you, getting lost into you. You were so beautiful, your body was mesmerizing, your smile was enough to make his heart flutter and for a moment he couldn't believe a woman as gorgeous as you could have been with him, and not only that, you could have had a baby with him. After so many rejections in life, it was still quite difficult for him to believe that was even possible. The way you looked at him, with your eyes sparkling, the same sweet innocence your daughter carried and how small snowflakes were still on your hair, made him fall in love with you just a little bit harder than usual. Even if it was an impossible love to live, it didn't mean it wasn't there.

He invited you inside, which you gladly accepted, greeting him politely and taking off your coat. He guided you to the kitchen, where he'd prepared you something to warm up - hot chocolate - and a big sandwich, sitting next to you, and loving every single minute where he could simply look at your beautiful face and listen to your voice, as you talked about your day, that way, it would be easier for him to daydream you were just a married couple spending some quality time together after a busy day.

•••

“... so all I'm saying is that I could bring Olivia back and then you both could-”

“No”

“But my mom would love to have her over with us for the holidays an-”

“Marcus I said no”

You sighed exhausted at that conversation, you knew something was up the moment you set foot into your ex’s apartment, you thought maybe he was happy to see you, but apparently all he wanted was to convince you to let him take your baby girl away for the holidays. You shook your head and tried wiping away those thoughts. There was no reason you should get on the defensive at that moment, Marcus had always been nothing but nice and gentle to you, he didn't want to steal Olivia away, in fact, his request was even kind of reasonable, even if you weren't going to agree with it. He had such hopeful eyes, those stupid eyes that made you fall in love with him, because you could see the truth in them, the honesty, the kindness Marcus held onto your heart, and those were the same eyes that prevented you from moving on, you would do so much for him if you could, but not that. It was the only thing you wouldn't give up.

He ran his thumb over his bottom lip - an old habit of his that usually went unknown - and shook his head, sighing in frustration. He couldn't understand why you wouldn't give in just a little, he didn't understand why you played so hard to get when it came to that. You had always agreed on everything as a couple and as parents, he didn't see the reason why you were behaving that way.

“Why not?!” He insisted and for a moment you had the impression of talking with a stubborn child. You'd already said you wouldn't agree to it, but he kept on pushing it, and even if a part of you was annoyed and started to get cranky, you had to be reasonable and remind yourself there was no reason to fight, he was just Marcus, your sweet lovely Marcus, who happened to be the best dad in the world and all he was asking was to spend Christmas next to his little girl. You buried your face into your hands, taking a deep breath and organizing your thoughts for a while before you could face him again.

“I said no because you already have your family to spend Christmas with and I don't, Marcus. If I let Olivia go with you, I'll be completely alone, not to mention the fact she's never been that far away from me before, but that's not what worries me…” you finally admitted out loud. You opened your heart to him for the first time in a very long time. After suppressing your feelings and locking them into a tiny box in the bottom of your heart, they were surfacing once more.

“All I'm saying is that, if you take Olivia, I'll be completely alone at Christmas and I don't want that, I don't want to have to invite myself over to friend's dinner parties and stuff like that, it's depressing and Christmas should be about family, so if you are already traveling and visiting yours, it's only fair I get to spend it with my daughter” you explained it to him.

“Our daughter” he interrupted you and you realized you were acting on the defensive the entire time. You felt insecure, always fearing Olivia loved her dad more than she loved you, even if it sounded madness because yes, she loved her daddy with all her ring little heart, but parenthood wasn't a competition, and even if you understood that, you also had another fear: Olivia simply getting used to distancing herself from you, and then your mind took you to several dark places, where you could only picture the worst scenarios of Marcus remarrying someone eventually, simply because he was too good of a man to remain single; and it scared you your daughter would simply choose to be around her dad and his new wife. You couldn't help suffering in anticipation over a rejection that might not even happen but still haunted it nonetheless. He placed his hand on top of yours, the familiar warmth making your heart skip a beat as he looked into your eyes.

“You could come with us, we could all travel to Texas… What do you say?” and it shattered your heart to have to say no to him once more; Marcus was so sweet but also innocent to think that could even be a possibility.

“I can't Marcus” you said and now he noticed there were some tears threatening to spill down your eyes. He was running out of options and needed to know why you were playing so hard to get, before he could inquire with you, you sighed and continued “you know that's not possible…I'd love to travel with you and Olivia, as a family, I'd love to be able to visit your family, but you know I can't, because you know how your mom feels about me, and not only that, your sisters too”

To say Marcus’ family didn't like you was an understatement. They hated you. And they didn't make any effort to hide it from you, not behind Marcus’ back at least. You didn't know if his mom got overprotective due to the heartbreaks he went through over the last couple of years, or if she was one of those obsessive moms who thought no one was good enough for her son. Either way, you could still feel the burning gaze they shot you when they laid their eyes on you since the first time you'd met. It had been on Olivia’s first birthday party and they didn't hide their thoughts on you having a child with Marcus, nor the fact they straight up assumed you were simply a gold digger who was landing a great child support from the newest head of the art department from the FBI, special agent Marcus Pike.

The man, on the other hand, wasn't clueless, he knew his mom wasn't very fond of you, but he couldn't imagine to what extent that was, he thought it was just some normal rivalry and shook his head, apologizing to you, because of course he would apologize. He was a gentleman after all, and he never wanted anyone or anything hurting you. You sighed and licked your lips, a soft blush spreading across your cheeks

“I think what I mean is that I wish we could all spend Christmas together, you, Olivia and me” you admitted “I don't want to be alone, and I don't want you to be without our daughter, I just wish we had a solution for this”

“We do, honey… I'm not traveling anymore, I'm spending Christmas with you both”

•••

When the realization that Marcus would actually spend Christmas with you and Olivia hit, you were in a mix of anxiety and excitement; on one hand, you wanted everything to be perfect, you couldn't wait to have him around and see the joy in your daughter's face. At first Marcus was supposed to come only for the Christmas lunch, but after some thinking you decided to invite him over for the Eve dinner and he could simply stay over, which he agreed immediately, thrilled to know he would get to spend that long with the two of you. Olivia couldn't contain herself, she had already made drawings to her dad, set all her favorite dolls in order so she could play with him and begged you twice to pick a Disney movie to watch, she'd never been that enthusiastic and you'd be lying if you said you weren't excited too. It was like a dream of having a complete family was coming true; both you and Olivia were looking forward to seeing him, picking up dresses to wear and welcome him home, it was thrilling to think of him, it wasn't a secret to anyone how much you really liked him, and though you had wrong timing together, sometimes it felt like things would work between the two of you, and that was what you honestly hoped for. Preparing some easy dinner, you saw how Olivia jumped off the couch the moment the doorbell rang, you barely had time to open the door and Marcus could set foot inside the house before she jumped on him. Marcus was a big man and quite handy too, so he managed to balance a large bag of gifts, a bottle of wine and a toddler in his arms.

You welcomed him inside with a smile, glad to see him, as Olivia finally got off him, running to her bedroom to find whatever drawing she wanted to show him and helping him place down the table the things he brought, you both hugged. He held you in his arms for several seconds, no words exchanged, no greetings, simply acting out the feelings you perhaps had been keeping too buried deep. He buried his face into your shoulder, taking in as much of you as he could, loving your smell and how you still seemed to fit perfectly against his body. He caressed your face and smiled, saying how good it was to see you.

Dinner was very pleasant in his company, Olivia was so excited she seemed like a puppy, which brought you and Marcus to laughter. It was nice having a nice time like that, it felt like you had a family and it was very good. Sharing a bottle of wine, you and your ex-boyfriend were sitting on the carpet, long after your daughter was asleep and safely tucked in, you both were just hanging out, having your fun and chatting about your old times together. You couldn't stop yourself from drooling over Marcus. God, he was so handsome and sweet, he was also smart and polite, which was a very dangerous combination you'd tried first-hand, hence the whole reason why you ended up pregnant. He tilted his head and laughed, making you lose yourself into him.

“... I said I can still smell you on me” he repeated himself, snapping you out of your daydreaming and making you nearly spit out your wine. He had said what?!

“What?!” The blush spreading across your cheek had a little to do with wine, the way he simply dropped those lines and placed a strand of hair behind your ear made your heart race.

“I meant from earlier, when we greeted each other and your perfume is still lingering on me… I like it” Marcus was a little drunk, you could tell it, he'd always been a cute drunk, always snuggly and willing to progress love words. You chuckled and stroked his cheek.

“I'm glad you liked it… would you believe me if I told you I am wearing it for you?” You decided to instigate him just a little, surprised and amused to feel his hand pulling you closer by the waist, his face so close to yours you could feel his faltering breathing before he finally kissed you. Sealing your lips together, you wrapped your arms around him, deepening the kiss more and more, moaning softly into his mouth, wishing and hoping that moment would last forever. His lips were just as soft as you remembered and the more you leaned against him, the more you desired Marcus. He was tall, strong, he always smelled so perfectly and all you could think of that moment was why did it take so long for the two of you to set things straight? Even if you weren't setting things straight, why did it take you guys so long to actually kiss and simply enjoy each other's touch. You couldn't actually tell, but perhaps that was a Christmas miracle. Breaking the kiss was hard, but the way Marcus’ big hand stroked your cheek, so gently as he looked at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, was worthy. The way he whispered your name and invested in another kiss, not having enough of you. He wanted more, he didn't want to be just Olivia's dad, he wanted to be there for you too, to hold you after a long day of work, to be able to kiss and stroke you gently and make you his. He didn't need a mistletoe to kiss you over and over and even if it technically wasn't Christmas yet, that was the best gift he could've got.

“I need you” he whispered against your lips “I'm tired of hiding my feelings for you, tired of pretending I'm glad when I'm not, when all I want is Olivia and you in my life, baby girl”

You could've jumped out of happiness right there and then. Marcus wanted you, just as much as you wanted him; it wasn't just delusional to think of a future together, all you had to do was say yes to him. When you were about to kiss Marcus once more, Olivia waddled into the living room, with her special Christmas PJs and messy bed hair and jumped onto his lap.

“Hi daddy!” She yawned cutely and snuggled him, which caused the two of you to chuckle in a soft blush and put your kiss aside for a little while.

You wouldn't be able to tell exactly what time you fell asleep with your family, but when you did wake up, you were in your bed - Marcus had carried you to the bedroom as the gentleman he was, Olivia had been tucked once more between the two of you and drifted off to a sweet slumber, which didn't prevent her from waking up extremely early and squealing at the top of her little lungs in excitement once she spotted the presents Santa had left around the living room, making you chuckle, as she tugged your sleeve and took you to the tree.

“Where's daddy, mommy?” Her beautiful sparkly eyes stared into your own at the same time Marcus walked in with a tray full of fresh made pancakes. Of course the sweet, lovely Marcus Pike would wake up early and make breakfast for his family. Placing the plate down, he smiled at his daughter's excitement, as she shredded all those colorful sparkly gift wrappings. You turned to him, calling him for an embrace, as he wrapped his arms around the two of you.

“I want us to have this every year, everyday of a family waking up together, please honey” Marcus whispered against your neck, and in return, you simply kissed his lips, showing him exactly your answer, you wanted the same too.

Olivia got her toys, her plushies and her cute summer dresses, you gave Marcus new bass strings and a brand new shirt that would just look perfect on him, tightening to the right places, and in return he gifted you a golden bracelet. But in reality, what you had gifted each other was Olivia and you were both about to gift her a brand new family, one that started at Christmas and would go on for as long as there was love between you all.

____

[jolalibrary]

make me like the holidays

marcus pike x f!reader | marcus masterlist

written for 12 Days of Pedro

summary: you're not the biggest fan of the holidays, so marcus makes it his mission to change that with a christmas market and a gift you have to wear.

wordcount: 3.6k warnings: smutty-themes, a teeny bit of orgasm denial, you consent to wear a vibrator controlled by marcus, vibrator worn in public, outdoor orgasm, christmas themes, marcus being a tease, his dimples, his smile, him.

an: huge thank you to @hellishjoel for asking me to be a part of this, and to @thetriumphantpanda for holding my hand, answering questions about warnings, and reading this as i shoved it at her face.

“So, what? You just don’t like the holidays?”

Snorting, you slide your fork around your bowl, licking your lips.

Because you knew eventually this would come up.

"I didn't... say that," you reply, averting your eyes. Mouth opening, closing again, unsure where to begin.

How to start.

How to begin to explain the odd feeling you get around this festive time of year. How your eyes don’t light up at tall Christmas trees, and instead your heart sinks whenever you see one of those adverts where the family all meet excitedly for the holidays.

It doesn’t matter how you dress it up—whether you hang tinsel or baubles—it always seems like an odd time of year. And because of that, It makes people pity you, aww at you, feel compelled to leave candy canes on your desk and purposefully add you to their Christmas card list, as though it's going to fix the decades of memories.

Placing your fork down, and you sigh. “I guess. I-I just don’t get super excited for it.”

Marcus is already thinking—you can tell.

The faintest line begins to appear between his brows, deepening the more he stares, drowning you in a brown you’re forever grateful to get the chance to wake up to every, single, day.

Leaning across the breakfast bar, he smirks—all devil, no angel. “I think I could change that.”

“Oh. Is that so?”

Nodding, his breath dances over your skin—all tantalising—before he softly slants his lips over yours, biting carefully on the bottom of your lip.

“That how you’re going to convince me, Pike—using underhand tactics such as your mouth?”

Snorting, he leaves his fingers lingering under your chin. “That’s a last resort. I think I can convince you in other ways to see how magical it can be with me.”

“You sound very confident.”

He smiles, and it makes something twist inside of you—a worry growing there, planting itself, all ready to grow into something ugly that he’ll eventually see. Be the thing at the top of the list when he inevitably realises he can do better than you.

Stroking your skin, he sighs. Not heavy, nor soft. Something in the middle. “I’m still going to love you if you hate the holidays, baby.”

Smiling, you look down at the counter—the one the two of you eat at whenever you can now, taking what hours you can have together.

“I promise,” he whispers. “But, you think you can let me try and make it special for you? Show you that there’s nothing quite like a Pike Christmas?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you let out a heavy sigh, meeting his eyes—somehow feeling yourself fall even deeper in love with him when you do.

“How can I say no to such an offer.”

Bundled up, wrapped in layers—including his scarf—your gloved hand slides into his, fingers awkwardly trying to find the home between his, almost wanting to pout at the fact you couldn’t feel his palm against yours.

“Comfortable?”

There’s a sparkle to his eye, made worse by the smirk that accompanies it. The one you imagine he’s been wearing since he’d handed you the bag stuffed with tissue, arms folding as he leans in the doorway.

It’s a little bit of fun, he had said.

Your fingers unfold it, unwrapping it free as your eyes immediately land on the box containing the little purple device and its remote.

“I know the season isn’t your favourite thing, but I thought this might make it more enjoyable.”

Narrowing your eyes, you stare at the box.

“Thought it could give you something to be excited about,” he adds, tone shifting—more silky than normal. “Now, whether you’re on the nice or naughty list today, is down to you.”

"Oh, Santa Pike. Please put me on the good girls list."

Grinning, his fingers slid over your jaw as he kissed you, "I think you'd prefer to be on my naughty list, baby."

Now, that same purple, unboxed gift is resting against you, flush. Stuffed and held in position by the underwear he helped you choose—the lace of it keeping it very much in place. And while it isn’t currently switched on, but you know he could change that at any moment—the remote buried in his pocket, all within his grasp.

A thought which makes heat lick up your spine and an ember of worry knot in your stomach—

At any point you change your mind, you tell me, baby. You hear me? Just say the word.

Clearing your throat, you curl into his arm, staring up at him—watching him take in the run of wooden huts, fairy lights and overt cheer.

“Let me guess, you have a to-do list for today?”

Smirking, his arm comes around you keeping you close, before he pinches your side. “No. We’re gonna see what we get up to.”

Squinting playfully, you brush the edge of his stubbly chin. “I’m not buying it. You have a plan.”

Shaking his head, his teeth tease his lip, nose almost flush with yours. “No plan—just want a lovely day with my girl…”

Hovering your lips over his. “But?”

His eyes slowly close, nose scrunching—lips spreading into the biggest, most foolish smile. “We have to start with a festive drink—”

“I fucking knew it, Pike. Fine, come on.”

But, he doesn’t let you budge, not even as you grumble, grasping your hips, yanking you close.

He gives you a look, a pointed one—all accompanied by a grin. It’s all shit-eating, spreading delightfully up into his cheeks. One you’d usually brush over with the pads of your index fingers.

"You don't sound like you're having a good time, baby."

"Marcus..."

You don’t move them this time—leave them on his waist. Feeling his hand slide into his pocket. And you brace.

It’s the only way you’re able to stifle the soft moan which attempts to slide through your teeth and burn the air as it buzzes. Light, but good. Your breath was suddenly a challenge to find, made worse by his watchful stare.

Lashes fluttering, gloved fingers gripping into the side of his jacket as you let your breath paint against his neck. It’s all building—layering itself on thickly atop the earlier ‘testing’ he had done earlier. When you had whined his name, been tempted to shed the many layers and keep warm in an entirely different way with him.

“That feel good?” he asks, low, breathy—only able to formulate a nod.

Then, it stops.

Blinking, your thoughts suddenly cleaner, more appropriate—things beginning to speckle back into your mind.

“Kiss?” he asks, the request falling from his tongue like silk.

“Depends how good the drink is.”

It turns out, it’s delicious.

Marcus had practically whispered the name of the drink he recommended into your ear—having likely noticed the overwhelmed expression slowly etching into your face.

Trust me his expression reads, as if you’d ever trust anyone else.

As soon as the taste of his recommendation met your tongue, your body almost welcomed the season with open arms. Your groan wasn't even buried as your eyes widened at the taste, at him for suggesting it—watching him smirk before he looped his arm around your waist.

“Thoughts?”

Smiling, you almost reply that you like being close to him, preferably forever choosing to be pressed close to him. You find it calming, suddenly no problems ever seem that big when he’s next to you.

Swallowing that, you glance at him, knowing it would be easy to fight the smirk. To act placid, add a shrug, sell it. But, his eyes have widened a fraction, pupils a mere dot in a sky of brown, with the reflection of the lights acting like stars.

The hope etched into his expression is what puts the final nail in your attempt at nonchalance.

“It’s good.”

Brows rising, he grins. “Yeah?”

Nodding, you take another sip. The flavours of the hot chocolate coating your mouth as you slide your arm around his waist. The feel of his lips against your forehead spreading an additional warmth through you, that the drink would never have available.

You’re almost sad when it ends.

Not that he lets you sit in that. Quickly, he takes your cup from you, placing both in a nearby trash can, before he’s pulling you back to him. For the briefest of moments, you just stare, admiring the way you see the outline of yourself in the pool of his eyes, the way you get to witness the way his adoration spreads across his face—all lit up by swinging fairy lights in the gentle, winter breeze.

“Got cream on your lip, baby,” he whispers, tongue swiping across your bottom lip—nowhere close to the site he pointed out.

And then you feel it again.

The thrum which spreads through you, is pressed against your bundle of nerves, making your thighs quake on fixed and solid ground. With the addition of his mouth on yours, the waves lap more feverishly, it all building, all desperate to crash.

Your fingers grasp onto him, teeth piercing into his bottom lip as he kisses you, letting you bury a moan into his mouth—and Marcus is happy to swallow it. Gleefully getting to feel and taste the way he makes you feel as your walls flutter, tightening—wishing for more. Needing more. Almost begging for it when you catch his gaze.

“You know how good you look right now?”

And then it stops. Your breath hitching. Skin prickling with warmth as you let a gasp escape—it weaving into the air, encased in vapour as you blink.

“W-what’s next?”

He grins, it rising up until his dimple appears. His palm flattening to the back of your coat, fingers sliding in pulses.

“Thought we could pick decorations for our tree.”

Brows raising, you turn your head, looking at him, finding him already watching you. Something is spreading in you, a symbolic bandage extending out from his touch to around the places warped and scarred from years of bad memories.

“Our?”

Kissing your head again, you hear him repeat that one word: our.

Just like he had done when he’d moved the last box of yours, you asking whether his place would get your favourite burgers delivered—ours, baby. Ours. It felt it, too. He’d made sure of that. Created space on shelves, and moved ornaments from their homes to allow yours to have a place.

So, it wasn’t out of reach he’d do the same with his holiday, his tradition.

“What if you hate my taste?”

Snorting, he brushes your cheek. “You know I love the way you taste.”

Rolling your eyes, he laughs.

“I could never hate your taste, baby. I love everything about you.” His hand drops, and he takes a sip of his drink as you do the same. “Plus, you chose me. Can’t be all bad.”

He’s kind to you when you’re handling the baubles, even more, when the two of you wander hand-in-hand through tightly packed huts.

Your hands point out things, not just for the two of you, but for others—his parents, a friend. It allows your guard to drop, and your brain to temporarily forget the device resting snugly against the swollen nerves desperate for him—even if you’re aware of how soaked your underwear is. How it clings, how it brushes nicely against you when the two of you walk from place to place.

Marcus becomes less kind when you’re in the queue for a sugary snack, your mouth busy explaining to him where you best think the tree can go in his place—a thing he corrects to ours at every chance he can.

“You almost sound like you’re getting into all of this.”

Smiling, you rest your head against his shoulder in the line. “Maybe it’s the company.”

“Yeah,” he whispers, voice low, the corner of your eye-catching his other hand sliding into his pocket. “Could be that.”

“Marcus.”

He just raises his brow, a sly smirk passing over him, before you feel him flick it on. “How else are you going to remember that it’s our place, baby?”

Every nerve, the ones previously all frayed, now lit up—just like the tree in the centre of the market. Your mind empties with a press of a button, fingers sliding inside his open coat, grasping for him—for grip.

“You excited about the holidays now?”

Fuck, you hate him, because yes—if it’s like this you’ll forever adore Pike holidays. You’ll wish for them, count down to them on your calendar. Ticking off in red pen, making a point to excitedly cross each one of them off.

Because the two of you haven’t even put the tree up yet.

There’s still so much prep, so much you suspect he wants to replace with good, better—more excitable—memories.

“Bet you’re wet,” he whispers.

And you glare at him, unsure if it’s with adoration or anger. Both merging, swirling—concocting into something you can’t stifle as your cheeks warm and your ears burn. Because there are people around—families, small children.

“Take me home,” you plead. “Please?”

Pressing your thighs together you find only makes it worse. The pulses are far more forceful, and better aimed directly at the already needy parts of you.

The ones which he’s usually so attentive with, barely keeping you like this, all wanting and not satisfied. Marcus barely lets the knot in your stomach tighten usually, but now, you think he’s having fun with it. Likely admiring the way your pupils are swallowing colour and a sheen is crossing over the skin on show. Because you’re warm, too hot— there are too many fucking layers and not enough of him pressed against you—

“Need you, Marcus.”

His fingers brush against your chin, aiding you to take a step forward as the queue moves. “I know, but be good for me.” His mouth close to your ear, hand impossibly tight on your hip—keeping you pressed against him, able to lean, let him take your weight as your legs shake. “You deserve this—”

Your lips part, and all attempts at levelling your breathing fail, falling away from your grip. Feeling the focus on the surroundings fading, black spots appearing—this game of taunt and tease having made you so impossibly shaky on your legs.

And he turns it up.

Moves it to the next one up, an up-and-down kind of vibration. It feels good, but then it lessens—a momentary break, a chance to mumble his name less in a whine—before it returns like a second wave.

It pulsing. Something akin to a rollercoaster, a high and a low—it comes around in slow circles that makes it hard to know whether you’re close to coming or growing more frustrated.

“You want something with chocolate or prefer just sugar?”

You try to speak, mouth moving close to his ear, but only a moan escapes. Low, coming from somewhere deep in your soul as his grip tightens on your hip. The speed slowed for a moment, likely settling itself up to do another build-up.

It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters.

Your legs are unstable, more jelly than muscle and bone. It’s all too much, but not quite enough either—just needing that fraction more to stop teetering on the edge and fall over, filling with bliss, and pleasure.

Each time he slides his hand over your hip or back, you have to swallow a whimper of his name. Dangling against the edge, dangerously so—only one little push and you’d be falling, freely, willingly, likely moaning and making an embarrassment of yourself so close to Santa’s fucking grotto.

“If,” you begin, hand to his chest, fingers trying to find skin, something, anything, his still around your waist, practically bruisingly, clutching the many paper bags against you, “we go home now, we might have time to put the tree up.”

You watch him smirk, how it hits his eyes—making the twinkling lights pale under the brightness of his expression.

“Then,” you continue, lips sliding close to his ear, “you can—shit—do something no one has ever done.”

He swallows, loudly—not even swallowed by the choir. “What’s that?”

Smiling, licking your lips. “Fuck me under it.”

Pinching your side, you swear you hear him grunt.

You barely register that you’re being dragged, hip to his, being led—the little device working its magic against your drenched cunt as you pass by choir singers and a person dressed like an elf until it’s suddenly quieter.

Bags dropped to the side of you, back pressed against the side of a hut—the roof casts a shadow over his face, but his eyes still shine. They’re bright and alert. Drinking you in like you’re the only thing that he can see, ever wants to see.

"No one can see us, I promise."

You believe him. It's the only reason you allow yourself to release a pathetic moan before your fingers dig into his pocket. Searching through receipts and his phone, finding it. The thing which weighs more than gold to you, the remote that has the chance to make or break you right now.

It clicks with such ease.

Every muscle in your tightens, your eyes clench shut, all but vanishing winter wonderland from sight and painting a new picture on the back of your lids. Him—naked. Stood all soft muscles and his signature smirk. His room—ours, you hear it in your head, ours baby, ours—surrounding you.

You’re on fire.

Cracking an eye open, finding him watching—in awe, captivated like you’re a sight to behold. And maybe, clutching the remote in your hand, you were. Maybe you were illuminated in a heavenly glow and looking as though you could melt the fake snow around the two of you—you feel you could, anyway, just from the look he wears.

The fact the two of you are just focused, lost in only the other as he keeps you against the side of the empty hut—thankful, happy, that at least one of the stalls hadn’t opened so you couldn’t be heard being held against it, mind being lost to the buzzing in your underwear.

“Who knew you were so dirty?”

“You love it,” you moan, ghosting your lips over his.

Needing a little more, craving a little more.

Please, please, please you think over and over.

He takes it from your shaking fingers, sliding his knee between your thighs—pressing it more defiantly against you, flush, likely feeling the vibrations through his bones as you moan his name. Sketch it into the air, write it there, never wishing it would fade—

More, Marcus. Please, baby. Please.

You’re aching. Your ears flood with buzzing as liquid heat spreads through you when he clicks once, twice—thrice. Landing on a setting he must have seen in the instructions.

And it’s bliss.

It’s mind-melting, muscle surrendering. Your hand cupping the side of his neck, nails digging in, needing to feel him, know he’s there—wishing it was his fingers, wishing he was heavy against you. That weight you crave, that sensation of just him.

Close, so close—

You say it like he wouldn’t know. Like you can’t feel the way he’s looking for signs across your face, likely knowing more about how close you are than you even do. He spends enough time making you feel good. Too good to you, always has been, ever since the moment the two of you met, and you’re grateful, happy, content, fucking over the moon, sun and stars—

“What do you need, baby?”

“You,” you whine.

Just you, only you. Only ever you.

The coil in your stomach tightens, the knot having formed something which can shatter with far too much ease, and it does shatter.

You snap. Break. Fall apart.

He drags your face against his neck, letting you curse, and moan. His name crying out from your lips, until it falls in softer waves from your tongue, splaying across his skin, tattooing him. Squirming close to him, suddenly at ease, shoulders sliding from your ears.

“Marcus,” you whine, differently.

And you’re grateful it stops, him switching it off—a grin breaking out in its wake. Your breath slowly comes back to you, your chest unloosening from trying to bury all your pants.

That’s when you’re finally able to take him in and see the way he’s still staring, so lost in you. His mouth parted, the softest smile trying to stitch into his cheeks, eyes moving around the features of your face.

You just let him stare, and he lets you gaze. Only blinking, letting the rest of the world in when you hear a bunch of kids walk past the end of the hut, loudly laughing.

“I think I could like a Christmas with you.”

Grinning, he pockets the remote, his hand coming to your cheek. “Yeah? I told you I’d make it special for you.”

Nodding, you kiss him. Soft at first, before it deepens, nipping at his bottom lip—finding yourself meeting the hut again, his palm beside your head, able to taste the sweetness of his drink from earlier, the cream, chocolate and ginger—

“I was serious…” you mumble, “earlier.”

Pausing, he lifts his head.

“About the tree, what we could do under it.” Sliding your hand down his front, you cup him, feeling how hard he is, fingers sliding either side of him. “Think you deserve a special day too.”

“Really?”

Biting your lip, you nod, slowly at first—then more purposefully.

“Fuck, I love you, baby.”

an: merry pike christmas ;)

[pedrostories]

❄️ PedroStories Secret Santa event 2023 ❄️

Thank you again for participating in PedroStories’ second Secret Santa event! We hope this event gave you some joy this holiday season! 💙

Special shoutout to our pinch hitters: @gasolinerainbowpuddles who jumped in later to help us out and @katiexpunk & @taro-666 for taking on two prompts! 🥰

Additional shoutout for Santa's little helpers who made sure this event stayed on track: @userdjarin, @wannab-urs, @chronically-ghosted, @oogaboogasphincter & @pedrorascal

You can find all the works published by the participants below the cut!

MASTERLIST

* - Mature/Explicit work

VISUAL ART

Joel Miller banners - from amongtlou to tempestuous-lush

Dieter Bravo fanart - from taro-666 to mysterious-moonstruck-musings

FANFICTION

Dieter Bravo

* Tear You Apart - from psychedelic-ink to dark-scape

* The Knight & His Queen - from mysterious-moonstruck-musings to booburry

Run Over By A Reindeer... - from blueeyesatnight to brandyllyn

A Thing for Angels - from miraclesabound to toxicanonymity

Din Djarin

* closure - from javier-pena to quinnnfabrgay-writes

to know the light - from burntheedges to lincolndjarin

* salt water - from 5oh5 to chronically-ghosted

Retrograde - from taro-666 to 5oh5

Ezra

* devour (the entire universe) - from frannyzooey to wannab-urs

* Floating in Space - from 0celesteisthebest0 to julesonrecord

the trembling willows - from sp00kymulderr to djarinmuse

Cross My Heart - from brandyllyn to oonajaeadira

Frankie Morales

Copilot - from frenchiereading to joelmillers-whore

* The Gift is You - from julesonrecord to the-blind-assassin-12

merry christmas, cariño - from joelsflannel to frenchiereading

A Little Christmas Magic - from the-blind-assassin-12 to something-tofightfor

* A love letter to Frankie - from fhatbhabie to prolix-yuy

* Gas, Grass or ASS - from katiexpunk to astroboots

* Routine - from endlessthxxghts to alwaysbethewest

Jack Daniels

* Under Your Skin - from wannab-urs to javier-pena

Stay Close to Me - from alwaysbethewest to iamskyereads

Snakebit - from blueeyesatnight to brandyllyn

Javier Peña

* Under Your Skin - from wannab-urs to javier-pena

* office party - from tieronecrush to flightlessangelwings

* Not So Secret Santa - from lincolndjarin to taro-666

* If We Make It Through December - from lucyeyelesbarrow to tieronecrush

Paperwork - from blueeyesatnight to brandyllyn

Mistletoes in the Moonlight - from 221bshrlocked to undercoverpena

Joel Miller

* it means something - from undercoverpena to joelsflannel

* Joel Miller fanfiction - from tempestuous-lush to sweetercalypso

i've got my love to keep me warm - from thetriumphantpanda to yeollie-plz

* Modern Day Hero - from flightlessangelwings to miraclesabound

* Snow and Mistletoe - from something-tofightfor to burntheedges

The Reason for the Season - from prolix-yuy to psychedelic-ink

Oh, the Wildflowers - from adora-but-ginger to amongtlou

Candlelight - from sweetercalypso to adora-but-ginger

a heart for melting - from joelscurls to thetriumphantpanda

Muffins and Jam - from noisynaia to katiexpunk

* freeze-thaw - from covetyou to oogaboogasphincter

Bookends - from djarinmuse to pascalispretty

Simply Having - from iamskyereads to talaok

* A gentleman - from talaok to lucyeyelesbarrow

* Joel Miller fanfiction - from booburry to fhatbhabie

A Very Miller Christmas - from yeollie-plz to joelscurls

* Nightmare Before Christmas - from katiexpunk to xdaddysprincessxx

* Love Shack - from pascalispretty to sp00kymulderr

* Visions of Sugar Plums - from dark-scape to covetyou

* twin peaks. - from toxicanonymity to endlessthxxghts

* Happily Ever After - from xdaddysprincessxx to frannyzooey

* Cinnamon and Sugar - from gasolinerainbowpuddles to thirtysevenodddogs

* a bowlful of joel-y - from oogaboogasphincter to lisadean

Marcus Moreno

Have Yourself a Moreno Little Christmas - from chronically-ghosted to noisynaia

Marcus Pike

* closure - from javier-pena to quinnnfabrgay-writes

* Procedures to Reach a Common Agreement - from thirtysevenodddogs to 221bshrlocked

Text Me Merry Christmas - from quinnnfabrgay-writes to 0celesteisthebest0

Max Phillips

I'll Leave a Light On For You - from oonajaeadira to artemiseamoon

Pero Tovar

* What the heart wants - from artemiseamoon to blueeyesatnight

* The Cross: The Spirit of the Season - from blueeyesatnight to brandyllyn

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 💙

due to the less than ideal tagging system of tumblr all the participants are tagged in the reblogs

[604to647]

WIP Wednesday (Book Covers Edition)

Thank you for the tag @aurorawritestoescape and @milla-frenchy 😘😘 I’m going to be a cheaty cheat and roll this in with WIP Wednesday and tag you two lovelies right back 🤭🤭 I feel like I have a million WIPs on the go, but here are covers (amazing template once again by @saradika) for the only ones with titles 🤭

L to R, Top to Bottom: Tim Rockford + Marcus Pike Sharing/Threesome, Frankie Morales Extreme Sports AU, Another instalment of The Rockford Portfolio, Frankie Morales cabin fic, The Rockford Portfolio Christmas Special, Epilogue for Modern!Din Djarin series.

Three of these are done and just need editing 🙌🏻 I swear I’m gonna post something by the end of the week, or bust 😌😂 Please feel free to ask me about any of these, and here’s a no-context line from each - I won’t tell you which is which! 😆😘

Finally, you give up and climb into Tim’s lap, ducking under the beefy arms holding up his book so that you can straddle and hug your tree truck of a boyfriend.

You’re also ovulating and horny as hell. 

“If you keep this up, I’m going to have to arrest myself for public indecency.”

Yep, the two of you are his girls.  The ones he takes care of.  Looks after.  Loves.

Pretty girl – there’s that term of endearment again.  This time when you hear it, your heart swells and your face flushes – and maybe your thighs press together a little, too. 

Whatever happened to make him suddenly disappear must have happened between Friday and Monday morning, and you can only think of one thing.  You.

NPT for WIP covers or Wednesday or both to some very talented cuties: @magpiepills @ace-turned-confused @mermaidgirl30 @jeewrites @inept-the-magnificent

[sirowsky]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. (If you feel like it, no pressure.) Spread the self-love ❤️

Oh my, it's always so hard to pick favorites... But thank you for giving me this opportunity to flaunt my work :)

Right, well first off, it's gonna have to be my flagship.

Driving Mr. Tovar - Masterlist - My first stab at a Tovar series turned out to be my most popular story ever, and I'm so happy for it. In this romantic thriller/fantasy adventure, Pero and reader start out as reluctant coworkers, but soon become much more than that, while having to defend and protect each other from increasingly evil threats.

The Old Prince - Masterlist - The one and only Oberyn story I've made to date, and I love it! Dragons and ancient Egypt, love, mystery and malice, this one's got it all!

A Little Menace - It's hard to go wrong with Din. I had so much fun writing this little mini-series, about neighbors bonding over a little boy's fear and becoming a new little family in the process.

Wrong Way Home - Finding a lost and stranded Marcus Pike turns into quite the adventure, as reader braves a snowstorm to try and help him, and they both fall in love along the way. (One shot, but a reeeally long one.)

Christmas Special - This two-part story was indeed special. Former black ops military man Pero Tovar is working as security at a tech-company where he has a reputation for being taciturn and unrelenting, scaring everyone with his mere presence. But secretly, he's developed a crush on someone...

And there you have it: my top 5 among my own stories! I'm always proud whenever I manage to write anything at all, but of course, some stories dig deeper and reach further than others. Thank you to all my followers and every single one who's ever read anything of mine. You all help me be the writer I am, and you've all been a part of my continuing development, whether you know it or not <3

[foli-vora]

A Christmas Throwback.

Just a little collection of my holiday fics written from last year and the year before as I don’t know what or when I’ll release anything season-related. I’ll finally finish the fics from last year as it felt like bad luck writing Christmas shit during the year lmao.

Silent Night 2021. Frankie Morales & f!reader.

You’re not the only soul forced to work during arguably one of the loneliest, most depressing times of the year. A stranger seeking a cup of hot coffee becomes a much needed friend.

Santa Baby [18+] 2021. Marcus Pike x f!reader.

Sappy holiday present wrapping domesticity with our favourite Special Agent. He’s a distraction, and a wonderfully talented one at that.

Meet the Yorks [18+] 2022. Dave York x f!reader.

Just a filthy soft as fuck Christmas fic in the York house.

My Only Wish [18+] Part One | Part Two 2022. Jack Daniels x singlemumf!reader.

Typical hallmark movie. He’s never been one for Christmas - he hates the tacky decorations and the ear drilling music, but maybe the owner of a small town bakery and her children will change that.

Under the Tree [18+] 2022. Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x f!reader.

Santa came early for Bradley and he’s positive you’re trying to kill him. Too bad Mav also decided to arrive earlier than planned. Awkward chaos ensues.

[supernaturalgirl20]

Awkwardness

Pairings: Marcus Pike x f!reader

Warnings: Morning wood, angst, anger, cursing, mentions of infertility, mentions of trying to get pregnant, pining, mentions of sex, Marcus being a little insensitive.

Chapter summary: you’ve arrived at the Pikes for Christmas, which means you have to sleep in the same bed, cuddle, kiss and pretend that you’re a happily married couple. What could possibly go wrong? Especially when a certain mother-in-law gets suspicious.

Series Masterlist

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

The air was forced from your lungs as the whole of the Pike family took turns in greeting you with a tight hug. His mother had been the last and when she pulled away, her eyes studied your face as if searching for something. Did she know?

With a low hum, she retracted her hands from your arms and turned her gaze towards Marcus who was smiling down at his niece. If your heart hadn’t been broken before, it was now.

He looked so happy at that moment, like all the problems in the world could be solved just by holding her in his arms. His lips peppered kisses along her chubby cheeks and a soft giggle erupted from her little mouth. It was like a punch to the gut. Like someone had stabbed you and twisted the knife for good measure.

“It’s so good to see you both,” Mary says, pulling you from your thoughts and drawing your gaze back to her. “How long will you be here?” She questions Marcus, whose eyes flicker in your direction briefly before smiling over at his mom.

Mary had left your side and was walking around the island back towards the stove, where she had left a pot simmering. “Just until after New Year, then I gotta get back to work.” Marcus had finally released his niece Emily and was hovering over the open pot breathing in the aroma that wafted from it.

“Hmm, it smells so good. God, I miss your cooking mom.” Mary’s gaze drifts towards you and you try hard to cover the hurt look on your face with a smile. “I’m sure Y/N’s cooking is just as good,” she says with a wink in your direction.

“When she’s bothered to cook,” Marcus mutters under his breath but you hear it nonetheless. The room suddenly feels small. Suffocating. And the need to get away from your husband becomes too great that you begin to back out of the kitchen. “I’m just…I’m just gonna go unpack. Won’t be long.”

Turning, you quickly dart from the room and rush upstairs, bags in hand. At least you’d bought yourself a half hour.

***

Mary stops stirring and with her hand on her hip, raises her eyebrow in question at Marcus. “Alright, what’s going on?” She asks, her tone accusatory.

“What do you mean? Nothing is going on, mom.” He stammers, his eyes darting around the room, anything to avoid making eye contact. “You could cut the tension between you with a knife. Did you have a row?” Her voice has softened slightly as she reaches out her hand to squeeze Marcus’s arm.

A nervousness courses through him as he finally meets his mother's gaze. Of course, she would pick up on it. “No,” he says, clearing his throat. “We’re just tired.” He sighs as he runs a hand down along his face. “It was a long trip and we’ve both been working hard lately.”

“If you’re sure?” she says, her voice soft. “How about you two take a quick nap before the party tonight.”

“Party? What party?” Marcus questions.

“Didn’t I tell you? I must have forgotten. I'm having the whole family over tonight for a little get-together. Nothing special, but I want you both to look your best.” Mary turns away from Marcus then and continues prepping the food, completely ignoring him.

He knew this meant she was done with the conversation and so decided to make his way up to his old room. To you. And to the inevitable fight that was waiting for him. With a deep sigh, he trudged his way upstairs, mentally preparing himself for what was to come.

***

The room was empty when he slowly opened the door, his eyes darting around trying to catch a glimpse of you. The sound of the water running in the shower quickly alerted him to your whereabouts.

A smile works its way onto his face as he takes in his childhood bedroom. It hasn’t changed, Marcus thinks to himself. His old artwork still hangs on the walls from the days he thought he would be the next Picasso and his trophies from swimming still littered his bookcase.

Mom never did like throwing anything out. He’s startled from his thoughts by the sound of your voice, “oh…I didn’t think you'd be here,” you say bashfully as you pull the towel around you a little tighter.

Marcus’s gaze drifts down along your body, taking in the curve of your hips as you stand there practically naked. The water drips down over the skin of your shoulder forming a trail along your chest that disappears into the curve of your breasts.

His skin heats and a fire begins to burn within him, his cock stirring to life beneath his jeans. Fuck, you were beautiful.

He shakes his head, ridding himself of the inappropriate thoughts that were beginning to form. “We uh…we have to dress up for tonight,” he manages to say, his voice slightly strained as he turns his gaze away from you. “Moms having a few people over for a party so wear something nice. We have an impression to make.” His tone is curt as he grabs his wash bag and brushes past you into the en-suite, closing the door with a bang.

The sound echoes around the room making you flinch. Was he repulsed by you now?

***

The day passes slowly as you both mingle with his family. Something you note you both do separately. How are we supposed to convince anyone we’re ok if he can’t even look me in the eye, you think to yourself as you sit watching Emily play with her toys.

She was beautiful. Her hair was thick and curly and the same shade as Marcus’s. She even had the same eye colour and you wondered if this is how your child would look. A mini version of your husband. If you’d had one, that is.

Suddenly your throat hurts and your eyes begin to well with tears. Why couldn’t you have had a baby? You both tried for over a year and nothing. The constant testing and trips to the doctors had put a strain on your relationship and then the fighting had started.

Maybe you had put too much pressure on yourself to get pregnant. Constantly tracking your period and ovulation days. Sex had turned from an intimate experience full of pleasure into something you considered a chore.

A hand comes to gently rest on your shoulder pulling you from your thoughts. “Hey,” Marcus says softly, a hint of tenderness in his voice.

“We should probably get ready.” His eyes flicker between you and Emily and then he looks at you with something akin to pity. You don’t want his fucking pity. Standing abruptly, you shrug him off and rush upstairs to get ready for the night.

***

“Since when are we having a party?” John, Marcus’s father asks Mary as she stands in the doorway watching her son and daughter-in-law. “Hush,” she chastises. “They’ll hear you.”

He rolls his eyes at his wife before coming to stand behind her. “What are you up to?” He whispers, his lips brushing against her ear. “Haven’t you noticed they’ve been distant towards each other since they arrived? They’ve barely spoken a word. It’s not like them.”

“Now you ain’t going to go meddling are ya? You need to let them figure it out themselves. Besides, you don’t even know if something is wrong.” He pulls away from her and starts for the drink’s cabinet, pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

Mary turns to face him with a sly smile on her face. “Oh no, whatever your thinkin’ of doing, don’t,” John says with a shake of his head as he mutters under his breath.

“I’ve got a great plan,” she says beaming at him. John downs the drink in his hand before placing the empty glass on the counter. “I ain’t havin’ any part in this.”

***

As you stare at the mirror, your eyes trailing along the black dress that hugs your curves, you try to remember the last time you felt like this. Beautiful.

It’s certainly been a long time since Marcus has made you feel like you were. Maybe that was part of the problem. Maybe he didn’t find you attractive anymore. Speaking of your husband, you haven't seen him since you left him in the sitting room and you wonder briefly where he's gotten to.

The door pushes open and your question is answered when Marcus walks in, head down as he closes it gently behind him. “Sorry I got caught up talking to Jake and I…..” He stammers, faltering in his step as he takes you in. His eyes slowly roam your figure, staring just a second too long at your breasts.

He shakes his head as if trying to rid himself of his thoughts before clearing his throat and striding towards you. His hand reaches out to push a strand of hair behind your ears, his thumb rubbing softly against the skin of your neck before his eyes meet yours.

There’s tension in the room and for the first time in months, it's not an angry one. You haven’t been this close to him in so long that you’ve forgotten that he has small freckles along his nose, barely visible but there nonetheless. Or that he has a slight amber tint to the colour of his eyes, it almost reminds you of whiskey.

His eyes flick down to your lips, his tongue running along the seam of his own before he meets your gaze again. “You look…beautiful,” he whispers so softly that if you weren’t standing right in front of him, you’d have missed it.

You become suddenly aware of his hand on your neck, his other now resting on your hips and your skin begins to heat. You both stand like this for what feels like ages until a knock sounds at the door shattering the moment. Marcus pulls his hands away from you as if he’d been burned and then without another glance in your direction, he grabs his clothes and rushes into the bathroom.

“Hey,” Sarah, Marcus’s sister says as you open the door. “Would you mind helping me finish off setting up the kitchen? It’s just mom asked me to and I’m so behind and if I ....”

“Sure,” you say with a smile, happy to be getting away from the awkward tension that had now settled between you and Marcus. “You look gorgeous by the way,” she says as her eyes take in the black dress.

“Thanks, you too.”

***

The house is brimming with people and the sound of music and laughter has a warm fuzzy feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. You always loved the ‘Pike parties’ that Mary hosted. Something that had taken a little getting used to in the beginning considering you came from a small family.

You were currently in a conversation with one of Marcus’s uncles, Christopher. He’d approached you - cornered you really - and had proceeded to talk about his new cows on the ranch and as much as you loved him, you prayed for someone to save you.

You gasp when an arm wraps around your waist pulling you into a warm solid form and when you glance upwards you’re met with the smiling face of your husband.

“Uncle Chris. Long time no see. Heard you got some new cows?” Oh lord, why did he bring up the damn cows? As Marcus conversed with his uncle you let your eyes drift to the people littered around the room. Everyone was having a great time and seeing everyone so happy has a sadness settling upon you. You wish you could be happy too. That the show Marcus is putting on wasn’t just that, a show.

A hushed whisper catches your attention and you're drawn to the voice of John whispering something to Mary. “See, they're just fine. I won’t say I told ya so.”

She gently swats his arm before meeting your gaze and smiling brightly before wandering off.

“Baby, some of my old college buddies are here. I think we should go say hello,” Marcus says, voice clear and full of determination as he stares down at you. You stare back at him stunned into silence at the use of his pet name for you. How you longed to hear it again.

You shake the thoughts from your head and smile back at him. “We better,” you say as you place your hand on his chest. “Or we’d never hear the end of it. It was lovely chatting with you Christopher.”

Before he can even take a breath, Marcus laces his fingers with yours and manoeuvres you both through the small crowd. Your heart almost beats out of your chest at the intimate touch and you silently wish that things could go back to how they were before. That this sudden display of affection wasn’t an act.

He leads you out onto the deck and closes the patio doors behind him before taking a deep breath. You look at him slightly confused as to why you're both here. “I thought your college friends were here?”

“Oh, no I just said that to get away from him. I mean how much more could you listen to him talk about those god-forsaken cows.” He winks at you as he leans against the railing, head tilted up at the sky. “I know. God, I’m an awful person but the whole time he was talking I just wanted to get away from him.”

Marcus laughs, turning his gaze towards you. “And miss the chance to hear about how beautiful Betsy is with her brown and white spots?”

“Oh don’t be so mean,” you say playfully as you swat his arm. A cool breeze washes over you causing your skin to pimple and you rub your hands along your arms trying to shake the chill. Marcus steps forward and begins to shrug off his blazer. “What are you doing?”

“Being a gentleman and giving you my jacket. You’re shivering a little.” He moves towards you but you shake your head in protest. “I’m fine, honestly. It’s not even that cold.”

“Please don’t be stubborn and just take it,” he pleads as he holds it up in his arms. With a nod, you silently agree and he drapes it around your shoulders. “There. Now was that so hard?”

You know he’s just teasing by the smile on his face and you thank him as you wrap it a little tighter around you. His scent hits you immediately. Cinnamon and apples and you smile to yourself as you remember the first time he let you wear his clothes. You always loved how he smelled. Like home.

“We should probably get back or mom is gonna throw a fit,” he says softly, the tiniest hint of hesitation in his voice. “Yeah, I guess so.”

You move to take his jacket off but he shakes his head, “no keep it. It always looked better on you anyway.”

“Thanks,” you say bashfully before he places his hand on your lower back guiding you back inside. The night continues much the same as you both mingle. Marcus keeps up the show of being the perfect in-love couple with small touches and the odd kiss on the cheek. It’s enough to drive you insane.

His proximity mixed with the buzz from the alcohol has you burning with desire for your husband and you’re not sure how much longer you can take all this.

“I think we should call it a night,” he says as he says his goodbyes and places his hand on your lower back once more, leading you up the stairs towards his old room.

Once inside he quickly removes his hand and begins to undress and you suddenly don’t know where to look. “No need to be shy, you’ve seen it all before.”

You huff as you remove his jacket from your shoulders. “Haven’t in a while though.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth you regret them. You didn’t mean for it to come across as you being bitchy. It was just a fact. “And whose fault is that?” He snipes back, muttering under his breath as he pulls up his clean boxers.

“Please,” you plead. “Can we not turn this into another fight? Tonight was the first time we’ve gotten along in ages. I didn’t mean for it to sound so bitchy but you know I’m right. We haven’t had sex in months, hell you haven’t even tried to touch me intimately. I miss how it used to be. I remember a time when you couldn’t get enough of me.”

“That was before you made it feel like a chore. There was always a damn schedule. We only fucked when you thought you’d get pregnant, we didn’t do it just to do it. For pleasure and nothing else. And then you’d cry so hard when you got your period every month it broke my heart. I couldn’t touch you like that knowing I couldn’t give you what you wanted.”

“I only ever wanted you,” you say as a strangled sob escapes your lips. You quickly grab your pyjamas and make your way into the bathroom to change. You’d hoped that you could both come back from this but you're starting to think you never would.

***

When you finally emerge from the bathroom, Marcus is lying on the floor with the extra blankets and pillows. “You don’t have to sleep on the floor. We can share the bed.”

He turns his head to gaze up at you, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Oh come on, Marcus. We’re married, we’ve shared a bed for the last eight years, and one more week isn't gonna kill you. Besides, you've got a bad back now, sleeping on the floor will kill you.”

Marcus rolls his eyes at you before sitting up, “don’t be so dramatic. My back’s not that bad.”

You stand staring down at him with an incredulous look on your face. He stares up at you with a serious expression on his face. “Honestly I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Fine, whatever,” you snap before making your way around to the other side of the bed and sliding in under the covers. Reaching over to the lamp you turn out the lights. “Night.”

“Night.”

***

You sit up with a jolt as a loud banging noise startles you awake. You stare around the room slightly groggy from the interrupted sleep.

“I’ve brought you both breakfast,” Mary says cheerfully from behind the door. Shit, you think to yourself as you move towards the end of the bed.

“Marcus,” you call in a hushed voice but he doesn’t budge. Fuck sake. Grabbing a pillow you throw it at him and he snorts loudly as he jolts awake.

“What time is it?” He says tiredly as he squints up at you.

“Can I come in? Are you both decent?”

Realisation dawns on him as he meets your gaze. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck. Get up here now.” You move back into a sitting position on the bed, pulling the covers open for Marcus as he scrambles to gather his makeshift bed. He quickly jumps onto the bed and pulls the covers over you both and pulls you into a cuddle. His cock. His very hard cock presses up against your ass and you can’t help but wiggle it a little.

“I…fuck,” he groans into your shoulder. God you’ve missed the feel of him like this. Your cunt is aching for him, to feel him deep inside and you keep moving your ass until he grips your hip tight. “Stop,” he says, his voice a little stern. “You need to stop….I can’t….shit,” he breathes out raggedly before creating a little distance between you both. “Don’t start something you’re not gonna finish.”

Mary knocks again, clearly becoming impatient and with a deep sigh, Marcus turns towards the door. “Yeah, come in mom”. She opens the door and carries in a tray of pancakes and bacon with two cups of coffee, placing it on the nightstand beside Marcus.

“I didn’t interrupt anything did I?” She asks with a wiggle of her eyebrows, a hint of hope in her voice. “Jesus mom. I am not talking about that with you. Ever.”

“It’s perfectly natural for a man and woman to have sex, especially a husband and wife.” You peak over at Marcus to find him blushing furiously and you can’t help but smile. “Besides, if you two ever thought you were quiet, you weren’t. Your father and I have heard it all.”

You curl into Marcus’s side with embarrassment and he quickly ushers her out. “I’ll never be able to look your father in the eye again.”

“You’ll be fine. Dad doesn’t pass many remarks on things like that.”

A voice sounds from the door, “oh and don’t take too long, I’ve loads of things planned.” You both let out a deep sigh before meeting each other's gaze. After a few seconds of staring at one another, you both burst out laughing.

“Right,” Marcus says as he rubs his hands together. “Let’s tuck in.”

Part 3

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @browneyes-issac @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @hungrhay @rosie-posie08 @manuymesut @all-the-way-down-here @iccedays @dindjarinswhore @tusk89 @graciexmarvel @pedrostories @pedr0swh0r3

[iamsherlocked-1998]

Masterlist ✨

Hello! I´m Sarah.

I write only for Pedro's characters - not for Pedro himself.

I prefer one shots and littles stories.

I'm always open to requests, love have conversations.

Many of my stories include GN!Reader & M!Reader, they have LGTBI content (male x male). I don´t usually use original characters, but there are a few of then.

The stories may contains smut of varying degrees, violence and speak about sensible topics.

I love add gif and pics in my fics for made it more interesting.

My first language isn't english, please be patient with some errors in writing.

Please consider re-blogging it and leaving a comment, In fact I like to answer them. I also usually follow users who follow me❤

Come browse and have a good time 🥳

Din Djarin (The mandalorian):

-Cold is a phase (series): A little Christmas story, although it has some angst at the beginning.

PART 1

PART 2

-A Harmless Indulgence.

Story with blind reader, small domestic moment.

-When the storm passes

Contains description of nightmares and post-traumatic stress.

-Infection (Dincobb).

Zombie AU, with a little surprise in the end.

-In good and bad times (Dincobb).

The marshal helps with Mando's injury.

-Winter days

Just smut without plot.

-The Unknown (series): With a OC, Mando meet someone special.

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3.

-The Cave.

My version of the living waters.

-The Sorcerer (series, crossover): Doctor Strange is coming.

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3.

-The Hangar (Dincobb): Peli found an unexpected guest in her workshop...

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3.

-Communication.

Grogu first words

-Very long night (Dincobb).

A canteen night...

-Stolen days (Dincobb).

Wounds heal and bonds are created...

-Together.

My version of the reunion in The Book of Boba Fett.

-Goodbye.

A little anguish.

-Darkness (+ 18).

This story contains violence and loss of self-control.

-Mistletoe (+18).

A special to celebrate the end of Christmas with something a little spicy, Dincobb.

Oberyn Martell (GOT):

-Hot springs.

Just smut with our prince.

-IMAGINE (Dark, +18).

Javier Peña (Narcos):

-Healing.

The reader is a victim of drug traffickers since childhood and know Peña. Obscenity ensues.

IMAGINES:

-Joel Miller

-Break-up (multi characters).

-Sick (multi-characters).

-Din Djarin (Belong).

-Family.

-Earth.

-Dave York.

Marcus Pike (The mentalist):

-Broken Branches

A halloween story with some smut.

OTHER ACTORS AND CHARACTERS:

-Sherlock BBC (the smiling client).

A horror story based in the film.

[sirowsky-stories]

Sirowsky's Masterlist

The Lonely Castle - Complete (100 000+ words) Follows canon but takes place after the movie. Pero & original female character Ember/Snow, no reader insert. Slow burn romance, idiots in love, fantasy. Explicit content, 18+ONLY.

Driving Mr. Tovar - Complete (370 000+ words) Modern AU. Pero & female reader. Slow burn romance, hint of soulmates, magic. (Horses are significant characters in this story.) Explicit content, 18+ONLY.

The Stranger in the Bar - Complete (169 000+ words) Modern AU. Pero & Female Reader. Thriller/Romance. Explicit content, 18+ONLY.

Collision - Complete (55 000+ words) Modern AU. Pero & Original Female Character Nikita. Friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, secret identity. Thriller/Romance. Explicit content, 18+ONLY.

The Lost Island - Complete (112 000+ words) Follows canon but takes place after the movie. Marcus & female reader. Enemies to lovers, fantasy, supernatural powers. Explicit content, 18+ONLY.

The Flowers Always Know - Complete, but currently undergoing an update. (148 000+ words) Follows canon but takes place after the movie. Marcus & female reader. Slow burn romance, fantasy, supernatural powers. Explicit content, 18+ONLY.

The Legend of Mar'Sol - Complete (15 000+ words) Follows canon, takes place after the events of chapter 16. Mando & original female character Mesh'la, no reader insert. Slow burn romance, slavetrade, forced submissive behaviour, the force. Explicit content, 18+ONLY.

The Last Demon - Complete (70 000 words) AU that takes place around the time between Chapter 16 of The Mandalorian, and Din's appearance in TBOBF. Din & female reader/monster. Violent content, 18+ONLY.

The Old Prince - Complete (81 000+ words) AU, Halloween themed fantasy/horror/romance story. Monster Oberyn Martell & Female reader, reminiscent of Beauty and the Beast. Horror themes/explicit content, 18+ONLY.

Din Djarin

The Stories We Tell Ourselves (1872 words) Grogu's Gift (1900 words) A Little Menace (2080 words) --Part 2 (2518 words) --Part 3 (2240 words) --Part 4 (2120 words) --Part 5 (2130 words) Surviving Christmas (6500 words) Trouble (150 words)

Marcus Pike

The Bad Day (1525 words) The Birthday Hike (658 words) Monday (500 words) Wrong Way Home (18,280 words) The Secret Lake (3630 words)

Pero Tovar

Christmas Special (8060 words) --Part 2 (8090 words) A Safe Place (3250 words) Loneliness (3921 words) Fearful Heart (1900 words) Clumsy Heart (3352 words) --Part 2 (2910 words) Date or Inseminate (1240 words)

Various Others

An Unexpected Valentine - Marcus Moreno 2838 words

Kittycat - Dieter Bravo 1140 words Attention - Javier Gutierrez 1500 words Forgiven - Din Djarin 666 words Surprise - Pero Tovar 575 words Bad Guy - Javier Pena 570 words Don't Die - Din Djarin 1500 words

-Main Page-

Neighbors - Joel Miller 920 words Acts of Kindness - Din Djarin 1450 words Anger Management - Pero Tovar 1200 words The Well (poem) 138 words Lost and Found - Joel Miller 1630 words Moving On - Pero Tovar (DMTU) 960 words Reunion - Marcus Pike 732 words Daring to Dream - Marcus Moreno 2850 words An Imagined Adventure (poem) 82 words

Masterlist

Like Father, Like Son - Dieter Bravo 650 words All Hallows Quarrel - Marcus Moreno 825 words The Haunted Toaster - Javier Gutierrez 660 words Grumpy Pumpkin - Pero Tovar 750 words Temple of Love - Pero Tovar 1570 words Recovery - Marcus Moreno 680 words

Birthday Cake Writing Challenge of 2022

River Poem 444 words Hold On - Pero Tovar (DMTU) 850 words Treat Me Right - Javier Gutierrez 3225 Words Warmth 320 words Grogu's Gift - Din Djarin 1900 words Whiskey Nights - Jack Daniels 825 words Their Poem 240 words Danger Close - Javier Peña 1374 words Fearful Heart - Pero Tovar 1900 words Max's Monster - Max Lord 3280 words The Day - Francisco Morales 8500 words --------------------------------------------

Birthday Cake Writing Challenge of 2023

Meeting Expectations - Jack Daniels 580 words Judgement - Marcus Moreno 2210 words -Part 2 3100 words Turning Corners - Javier Gutierrez 2775 words Dreamt You Were Here - Din Djarin 1485 words I Came By - Dave York 1160 words The Beauty of Mechanics - Francisco Morales 1500 words --------------------------------------------

Birthday Cake Writing Challenge of 2024

Do You Dare To Know Me? (poem) 285 words

The Regulars (Marcus Moreno) 1175 words

Bird Men (Multiple Pedro Characters) 1790 words

Lingerie For Beginners (Pero Tovar) 1200 words

Forward Luxation (Marcus Moreno) 2750 words

For The Love Of A Grump (Pero Tovar) 900 words

--------------------------------------------

[deadhumourist]

Fandom Finds - last week of Dec

Hello! I finally got to catch up on some much-needed reading, and I'm in absolute awe of how incredibly talented people on here are. So I'm going to do a weekly round-up of things I loved in the Pedro Pascal fandom- art, fics, you name it. Here's what I loved in Dec (and a little before then, as it's the intro post!)

A gentle reminder to please support and reblog from your favourite creators to ensure more people see their amazing work!

Here we go, under the cut:

Starman (series) - @imtryingmybeskar (Ezra x F!Reader)

You know when you read something so good, you close your laptop because no words you can put on paper is going to come close to what you just read? That was me last week. This series is incredible - sensitive, insightful, a transportive glimpse into something very different. Ezra drops into his soulmate's lap, but it's not as simple as that. Clear your schedule. Read it.

Driving Mr Tovar (series) - @sirowsky (Pero Tovar x F!Reader)

When I read the original series, I turned into that crazed fan that sent the author songs that reminded me of her fic. Luckily the lovely author humoured me and we are still friends today. She's currently updating the series and the updated version is EVEN better than the original (I'm halfway through the reread of Chapter 1). Pero Tovar doesn't let anyone into his life, least of all his new driver. But he has no idea who he's up against and how his life will change. Perfect holiday escapism right here.

Queen of Poisons (series) - @artemiseamoon (Ezra x F!OFC)

Arte's Ezra and fantastic OFC Nyx has been living completely rent-free in my brain since I first inhaled the series months ago. The push and pull between these two is delicious and her heroine is a deeply nuanced badass who doesn't stand back when faced with danger. If you like supernatural worlds and strong female protagonists, you will love this.

Flowers for Ishtar (series) - Beskarberry (Din Djarin x F!Reader)

I already screamed at the author like an unhinged banshee, but this was one of the most fantastical, wild series I have ever read. Non-human!Mando and F!Reader have a solid partnership until he starts acting very weird. Please, for the love of the reptilian spacepope, read the extensive and detailed warnings, because this won't be for everyone. But if you do proceed - it's funny, magical, soft, sexy, unhinged and brilliant science-fiction fantasy with our favourite buckethead.

My only wish (series) - @foli-vora (Jack Daniels x F!Reader)

Come get your fluffy, sweet Christmas goodness here! Jack Daniels grinches his way into a a situation he never thought he's find himself in. Special appearance by a hilarious little menace who forces Jack and Reader's hand as subtly as a sledgehammer. Treat yo'self.

Unnamed (one-shot) - @juletheghoul (Frankie Morales x F!Reader Siren)

Jules' short and utterly *beautifully* devastating story about Frankie and a Siren will haunt you in more ways than one. It's the kind of story that you think about at 2am when you can't sleep.

The Fox, the Mage and the Cupboard (series) - @littlemisspascal (Multiple characters x F!Reader)

Make a cup of tea, settle under a fleece blanket and let Rae transport you to a magical world where you can forget about all the madness and real world problems. It features Javi G, Din and Pero and she makes them all very special, very distinct from each other. This series feels like a soft hug with some yearning for good measure.

An Evening with Monsters (series)- @clydesducktape (Triple Frontier boys in individual stores x F!Reader)

Kinktober hit different this year with this delicious line-up of monsters - the Triple Frontier boys are an absolute feast in this series. Thia is an incredibly talented writer, it might not be Halloween anymore, but you'll be yearning for these boys anyway.

All about the Bass - @katareyoudrilling (Marcus Pike x F!Reader)

Listen. This author has created a musical universe with the most perfect Marcus Pike (a musician) and I refuse to leave. I refuse. Get your bag, we're going to Yearnsville and staying there - this is romantic and soft and amazing. Marcus and you join an orchestra and it's not just musical notes flying. *chef's kiss*

[pedrostories]

🎄🎁 PedroStories 2022 Secret Santa – Masterlist 🎁🎄

Thank you again for participating in PedroStories’ Secret Santa event! 💚

Special shoutout to our pinch hitters: @just-here-for-the-moment who jumped in later to help us out and @prolix-yuy & @psychedelic-ink for taking on two prompts! Thanks to you every giftee got their gifts in time! 🥰

Here you can find all the works published by the participants!

* - Mature/Explicit work

Pero Tovar

* A Fate so Cruel by @supernaturalgirl20​

Ezra

* Binding Opposing Foes by @rise-my-angel​

Dieter Bravo

Dieter Bravo and the No Good, Very Bad, Awful Christmas Movie by @blueeyesatnight​

Joel Miller

* Make My Wish Come True by @oogaboogasphincter​​

Max Phillips

* Warmth by @simpingcowboy​

Marcus Moreno

Marcus Moreno x f!reader oneshot by @just-here-for-the-moment​

Marcus Pike

Where the Love Light Gleams by @the-blind-assassin-12​​

* A Future with You by @chaoticgeminate​

Javier Peña

Always Been You by @laureliciousdefinition​​

* Naughty List by @something-tofightfor​​

Silent Night by @queenofthefaceless​​

Oberyn Martell

* Winter Solstice at Winterfell by @autumnleaves1991-blog​

Simple Treasures by @prolix-yuy​

past and present loves by @mandaloresson​​

Jack Daniels

Over Ice by @haylzcyon​​

Whiskey, dark and deep by @prolix-yuy​​

lust for life – lana del rey by @agentwhiskeysgf​​

* Sweeter by @the-ginger-hedge-witch​​

Din Djarin

Flowers that Bloom in Winter by @psychedelic-ink​

An Impromptu Snow Day by @ghostofskywalker​

* Aay'han by @whiskeynwriting​​

* Sun & Moon by @taro-666​

Sweetie by @browneyes-issac​​

Simple Gifts by @writeforfandoms​

* Ner Cyar'ika Baar'ur by @misspearly1​

Revenant & * Expectations by @djarinmuse (@yourcoolauntie​)

* Magnetic Fields by @noisynaia​

* Acts of Service by @frannyzooey​

A Spell Of Winter by @meandorla​

* Stripping Away Our Armor by @flightlessangelwings​

Frankie Morales

* How about you and me by @artemiseamoon​​

* ‘tis the damn season by @psychedelic-ink​

* Speechless by @din-jarhead​

* A Pilot for Christmas by @alwaysbethewest​​

* The Beginning of the End by @miraclesabound​​

die for you in secret by @brewsterispunkk​

Near-miss by @pedrito-friskito​

Idle Hands by @pettyprocrastination​

Let It SQUALL by @grogusmum​​

* Let Me Take Care of It All by @floralpascal​​

* Run Through The Jungle by @intheorangebedroom​​

I Could Fall by @thot-of-khonshu​

​See you next year! 

[604to647]

(Late Night) WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tags @aurorawritestoescape and @mermaidgirl30 😘

Whenever I post a new chapter of Safest with You, I essentially throw my phone down and run away, hence not getting to this until late 😂😂

Working on lots, funny enough!

Safest with You, Ch. 21 is already in progress! That final scene in Ch. 20 was actually split, and the next chapter will open right where we left off.

“This doesn’t look okay,” you gently pull the hand that you saw Din shake in pain away from the wall, turning it over and cradling it in your hands - gasping a little when you see his knuckles scraped and bleeding.  Din watches your sweet face cloud with concern as you take a handkerchief from your purse and delicately wrap it around his wounded hand; tying it snugly against his palm before turning his hand over and bringing his knuckles to your lips, pressing a tender kiss against the makeshift bandage.

“Thank you, baby.”

Two The Rockford Portfolio instalments, one fluffy and one silly and smutty. (And actually a third Christmas special has oddly been started too??)

“Awwww… poor baby,” you soften when you feel Tim drop the weight of his fatigue onto you; his hulking frame is overwhelming, but you do what you can to support him.  Chuckling, you run your hands through his soft curls, massaging light circles into his scalp with your fingers; your heart sings a little when you hear him groan in satisfaction, “How did you used to sleep before you met me?”

Tim shrugs, “Didn’t sleep.” 

Finally, before beskarandblasters deactivated (😔), I signed up for her second round of Pedro Pantheon. We weren't friends or even that familiar, but I miss her and I think I'll honour what I consider to be a lovely legacy by completing the challenge and still try to post between Aug 2-9 as she intended. I'll be writing for Marcus Pike for the first time, and my god is Hephaestus:

While it was clear that Marcus himself did not view his limp as an impediment, you still thought the comparison to what the Greeks had considered Hephaestus’ deformity to be in bad taste.

But it was worse than you thought.  It wasn’t just because of the limp. 

Your eyes widen in horror and your heart clenches painfully for Marcus when your co-worker tells you about Lisbon and Jane. 

Late night NPT (apologies if you've done it; I'm late as always): @nerdieforpedro @morallyinept @milla-frenchy @inept-the-magnificent

[oonajaeadira]

For the Love Of Fic: February 20

Didn’t get a lot of time this week, but here’s a sampling of what I enjoyed!

🪐 = Year of Themed Creations work!

.

MARCUS PIKE

Tally Marks Part 1 and Part 2 by @huffle-pissed 🪐 Kay’s back at the soulmates (a trope I looooovvvvve) and this time it’s with Mr. Perfect Boyfriend. There are a lot of near misses here, and it takes a little while for them both to accept that it’s happening....but then they long for it and can’t seem to have it until.... It’s so sweet and fluffy y’all. 

.

DIN DJARIN

Competing For Christmas 7: Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas by @something-tofightfor  Christmas hasn’t hit the town of Mistletoe just yet, although some more Mandalorians have and the final hours for Din and reader are on. Ugh, it hurts my heart to see them count it down, force themselves to prepare for separation, even amidst the big celebrations. Aaaaand yet again Rachael has left us on a cliffhanger and I can’t wait to see how she wraps this one up....

Simple Gifts by @writeforfandoms If Din came wandering into my shop time and time again, I’m not sure I’d have the ability to hold myself back. But would I give him discounts and gifts? Hells yes. Would I be able to not hold the baby? Hells no. Would I beg him to take me away with him? Uh...sorry, I got carried away by this wonderful dream of a fic...

Not Going Anywhere by @haylzcyon  I do love a quiet and soft Din, one that won’t speak his feelings but you know he has big ones boiling just beneath the beskar. I wouldn’t give a womp rat’s ass if my bed was uncomfortable if I got to share a ship with him. And I certainly wouldn’t care if my bed was uncomfortable if I got to share the bed with him either....

Corner Booth by @magpie-to-the-morning  I love soft sex worker fics, the kind where the reader isn’t hardened, just charmed by the man they’re working on, someone sweet and respectful. And have I mentioned that I love a sweet, shy, respectful Din? That I yearn for him? This fic...it gives me all the yearns.

SPECIAL GUEST STAR FENNEC SHAND

From There to Here by @artemiseamoon 🪐 Arte’s gonna make my year whumptastic with her Year of Whump challenge. She’s starting off strong with Fennec needing medical care and being forced to take in the company of someone from her past...

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[sirowsky]

Top 3 your own favourite stories?

Before I answer, I just want to let you know that I have received your other asks and I'll get to writing your request as soon as I can 😊

Okay, favorites.

1. Has to be Driving Mr. Tovar. It probably always will be because of the complexity of the storytelling, the character developments, the blend of genres, and just the fun I had writing it, from start to finish.

2. Christmas Special. I love the repressed and taciturn Pero suddenly deciding to let his feelings out. It was so much fun to work on the reader's attempts to figure him out, but then just give up and go with it. Only to then discover that he's actually this whole other person underneath.

3. Wrong Way Home with Marcus Pike. It's perhaps not my best writing overall, but I love it. I love the hopefulness of it. The kindness of helping a stranger and the unexpected reward. It's also the most "me" I've ever made a reader character, which makes it closer to my heart than all my other reader inserts.

Thank you for asking! I hope my answer was informative 😀

[psychedelic-ink]

Happy sleepover!

I’m really struggling to get into the Christmas spirit so feel like I need to do a Christmassy themed ask to try and get me in the spirit. So any thoughts on what each of P’s characters would get for their partners at Christmas? Also I’m having so many thots so who would be most likely to get you toys for Christmas and which would they choose?

Awww I'm sad you're not able to get into the Christmas spirit lovey! I'm sending you some of mine since I already have too much xmas spirit, to begin with 🎄✨

My answer is under the cut because it ended up being too long <333

𝑺𝑳𝑬𝑬𝑷𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑹 𝑭𝑹𝑰𝑫𝑨𝒀

hmmmmm okay I feel like Frankie, marcus pike, moreno and javi G are the types to really think it over and try to make it as special as possible. They would probably opt to get you more personalized gifts, maybe something you checked out but didn't buy, I can see Frankie making something handmade for you

Ezra, Pero, and Jack are the ones to do their shopping last minute, tho I feel like instead of buying something they would either take you somewhere (not like a restaurant or anything, more like nature walks, picnics stuff like that) However, I do feel like Jack would get you something pretty, maybe a necklace or a bracelet, something that you can wear and be reminded of him

Din and Javier P! (let's say there's a similar type of holiday in the star wars universe) These are the guys who forget until the last minute but end up saving the day by cooking you a nice dinner, slow dancing in the kitchen vibes and then ofc spicy activities would ensue

And then we have oberyn and Dieter. To me these are the "your gift is me" types (dieter would most certainly tie a bow around himself and wait for you to unwrap your gift 😏) Oberyn I can see lavishing you and buying you stuff you probably don't need, best of both worlds

Joel, pre-infection, is probably on the more thoughtful side. He makes a plan, thinks through it, and likes to surprise you if he can

When it comes to toys I feel like any of them would buy you some as long as you show interest! But the ones most excited about it would probably be javi g 💜

[theredwritingwitch]

The Turkey Pig

Pairing: Marcus Pike x fem!reader

Summary: As Hanks-giving approaches, you realized you needed a bottomless pit guinea pig...and one FBI agent will do.

Word Count: 5.5 K

Warnings: Cursing, marking but with permission, alcohol, fade to black sex, holiday fluff, consumption of food

Ratings: M

Appetizers

A guinea pig was needed. Anyone would do, but you needed someone with an appetite for anything and everything as well as a bottomless stomach. Thanksgiving was on its way and you were this year's host for your friends’ special holiday of Tom Hanks-giving. Not everyone had family near to spend the holiday with, so you and your friends made the time up together: eating food, playing games, and binging on many Tom Hanks movies. Your own family lived across the country and were spending the holiday with your sibling, promising to see you for the Christmas break. So your holiday was freed for celebrating with close friends, and this year you volunteered to host. Unlike other years, you wanted to try out new recipes which meant you needed a helping hand or rather an open mind and stomach! Your sights were set on one handsome and friendly FBI agent.

Marcus Pike and you had become fast friends when he moved into your apartment building. He was heartbroken and lonely, and you had a gorgeous recipe for nutella crepes that would cure any broken heart syndrome. The poor man came stumbling home from a long night at work, and found himself attracted by the smell of breakfast and sweets. He had seen you taking up your laundry, following you down the hall past his own apartment. As you opened your door, the smell of an alluring aroma flew to Marcus. After delicately asking you what you were cooking, Marcus accepted your invite to a late breakfast for dinner. Ever since that late night brunch, he hadn’t been able to stay away from your culinary habits. 

It also helped that you had a solid crush on the art crimes agent. The man was easy on the eyes, and on the ears. He knew all the right things to say, what movies to recommend, music to listen to, and advice to give. It was simple too easy to become heart eyed at Marcus when he jabbered on about old films, classic art, and random trivia knowledge. In your opinion the agent was a real renaissance man, he seemed to have an interest in a great many things, all of which he loved to share with you. And you loved to listen, he had a way to become truly animated when he spoke, always including you in the conversation. The man always had a way to grab all your attention. 

But you had a way to grab his attention as well. Which was crucial in your current predicament. You were a heavy believer that food was the way to a man’s heart. Maybe a part of you was hoping to have yourself something of a guinea pig but perhaps even something more? 

Tonight was no different from the other nights you had with Marcus; you knew the agent was home and knew he would never turn down a question for help. Because that was Marcus, he was a knight in shining armor. The man jumped at the thought of helping and aiding you or anyone in need. Just one of many reasons you were falling in a hopeless crush for the man. You had asked for his help on many other occasions and the reward for his help was always the same, an offer of free food. Scraping up a plate of stuffed mozzarella and bread crumb mushroom caps, you knocked a happy tune onto Marcus’ door. You had made these stuffed mushrooms before for Marcus, and knew you could easily lure the man right where you needed him.

Right on cue to your pondering was the man of your eye. Still dressed in his trim work suit but with some ruffled hair that matched his scruffy beard, Marcus smiled from ear to ear as he took you in. Posing with the plate of food right in front of the door, you gave Marcus a dazzling smile.

“I need a favor.”

Marcus grabbed a mushroom instantly and bit down, humming as a few crumbs fell to the plate and as the mozzarella stretched from his mouth. You watched him keenly as he licked his lips and reached out for a second mushroom.

“Anything for you,” he gushed as his eyes sparkled with mirth to the plate of food he was slowly coaxing out of your hands.

You laughed and batted him away, taking a few steps back towards your apartment, “Well seeing as Thanksgiving is right around the corner.”

Marcus acknowledged your comment and took a few steps towards you, closing his door behind him.

“And I’m staying here for Thanksgiving, which means it will be a Friendsgiving for me,” you continued back to your door.

“I’m familiar with the holiday.”

“Are you familiar with Tom Hanks-giving? Because that’s actually what we’re celebrating.”

Marcus laughed as he lunged for a mushroom, “I can certainly get behind that holiday.”

“So can my friends and I, but here’s the catch, I’m hosting and that means I’m cooking.”

“Your friends are damn lucky,” he groaned into a bite.

“Well you can be lucky too if…you be my guinea pig,” you offered him the whole plate.

Marcus looked up to you with wide eyes, “You mean I can eat more of your food?”

“Yes, as in I need to try out some new side dishes, pies, potatoes, stuffing—”

“When do I start?” Marcus interrupted you in a dead series tone.

You bit your lip with glee, “You already did start! Today you will be taste testing appetizers!” 

“Today? As in, this is going on for a couple of days?”

“Yep I’ll have dinner ready for you when you get home Agent Pike,” You gleefully explained as you entered your apartment.

“Doesn’t seem like much of a favor when I’m the one getting rewarded…” Marcus trailed off as he took in the feast before him. Letting the door swing close behind him, he oohed and aahed at the selection that you had laid out. 

Handing Marcus a bubbling orange cranberry mimosa, you went on to explain to him the menu. Starting with a simple caramelized onion dip to a vibrant cranberry whipped feta dip, both served with your homemade cracked pepper chips. Finally you served him cheesy green bean & mushroom tarts as well as caramelized onion & goat cheese bites. For his part in the deal, Marcus slurped and chewed everything down that he could. He licked the spoon clean of cranberry sauce and popped the bits of goat cheese into his mouth all to flush it all down with another round of mimosa.

For your part, as hostess and chef, you seemed to lose yourself in the quaint atmosphere the two of you found yourselves in. Conversing and eating under the warm lights of your kitchen as the sun went down was a homey daydream you had in your head for way too long. There was something so familiar and cozy about Marcus that made you want to just simply rest your head on his shoulder to be enveloped in his arms on the couch, maybe even being sunken into a bed as he pushed you further into the mattress with his…

“So honest answers only?” Marcus questioned you as he jarred you out of your quiet staring. 

“Oh yes, honest answers only!”

“I have no idea what you’re going to be serving at this Hanks-giving,” he paused as he eyed your fading smile. Leaning towards you, he continued, “Cause everything tastes amazing and I can’t figure out what was the best.”

You laughed and pushed his arm away from you.

“That’s cruel Marcus, you almost made me think you hated everything.”

“First off, nothing you have ever made has ever tasted bad,” he pointed a spoon at you. “Second, I'm serious. Everything is great, I can’t decide what is best.”

“Maybe I’ll just make everything.”

“Sounds a tad exhausting.”

“Yes but I could make a little bit the day before and the rest the next day.”

“That’s an idea,” Marcus sympathized while taking apart the tart and throwing the pieces into his mouth. “If you need a helping hand, I’ve got two.”

“I can’t ask you that, you’re a guest. Guests don’t cook or clean. When you're here on Hanks-giving, I want you to be relaxed, not working.” you chimed as you grabbed plates to place them in the sink. You desperately needed a distraction so you could stop watching his mouth.

Marcus paused his movement, “I’m invited?”

“Of course you are! I can’t make you my guinea pig and then not let you see the end result!”

A giant smile graced his face as Marcus stood to bring more plates over to wash, “Thanks,” he quietly said into your ear as he leaned over to grab a towel to dry the dishes as you washed. 

Your stomach fluttered when his arm brushed against yours as the two of you quietly chatted about the rest of the meals you would serve in the coming days.

Vegetables’n Potatoes

Marcus definitely had a pep in his step now. Work always dragged around the holidays; everyone would go on and on about getting out of work early to go be with family. Marcus understood the feeling well, he used to be like that. Back when he was married, he looked forward to having time off. He loved spending long mornings in bed and late nights cuddled up near a fire. He found himself wondering what the holidays would look like with kids running around the home or even fur babies running amok. That was before the divorce of course. 

These days Marcus listened with envy as his coworkers jabbered about their own traditions, where they were traveling to, and silly family remedies that they could never stop laughing at. He had that once; he even almost had that again, until the engagement was called off. Even a year after the broken engagement and years after the divorce, Marcus still felt the sting of loneliness pinch him. 

But then you came in. 

It wasn’t easy to admit that he was interested in you. You were friendly, interesting, and beautiful. Before he would have jumped at the chance to take you out on a date, but he had jumped at the chance to enter relationships quickly before and those all ended in disaster. He learned his lesson, several times over, and decided to take things slow. Too damn slow his heart would beat at him. But he had to take things slow, he couldn’t take the hurt again. And honestly he was having fun with you. He loved the way you talked to him, so easy and smooth. He was fascinated in the way you moved, specifically in your home when you were in your element. But what Marcus loved most was that you were so invested in him. You asked about work, about his plans, about his past, what he wanted or needed. You wanted to know his thoughts and feelings about things both mundane and important. Honestly you had become the first person he would talk to about any sort of news, small or big, you were the first person to pop in his mind and you seemed to hold him in the same esteem. Out of all the relationships he had in the past, you were the first to make Marcus feel important. 

The man adored you to say the least, your amazing cooking skills were a bonus. For the first time in many months Marcus was excited for the holiday, partaking in the office water cooler talk about coming holiday plans and memories. He knew it wasn’t a big deal to be a guinea pig for your food prep, but he wanted to reassure you and help. Even as he practically skipped down the hall to his own door, just to quickly put his bag away and round his way to your apartment, he could feel the flitter and flight of childish giddiness in his stomach. 

As always, you appeared with a smile for Marcus, one that he mirrored. 

“Just in time, turkey pig!” you beamed, opening the door for him to enter.

Marcus chuckled as he engulfed you in a quick hug, “turkey pig?”

“Guinea pig seems off.”

“Right, I was fine with guinea pig, but turkey pig feels like an insult,” Marcus joked.

“Well I’ll make up for it by ravishing you with heaps of food,” you presented Marcus with another full table, this time it was loaded with potatoes and vegetables.

Marcus deflated as he looked longingly at the buffet, “At this rate, I’m gonna need to stop wearing belts.”

Your laugh rang in his ears as you ushered him to sit and eat up. Spooning a load of creamed brussel sprouts onto his plate with a helping of toasted garlic mashed potatoes, Marcus listened as you described the near disaster you had earlier with the mixer. He laughed and clutched his sides as he ate up the corn casserole. You divided your own share of the green bean casserole from the mashed sweet potatoes as he recounted some of the tales that his coworkers told at work about their own holiday traditions. Leaning back in his chair, he played with his serving of balsamic roasted baby carrots and medley of holiday roasted vegetables around with his fork, but declined to touch the baked sweet potato.

It was late into the evening that the conversation finally drifted off into a comfortable silence. Marcus studied you as you slowly packed away some leftovers. He watched as you slowly swayed to the music that softly hummed through the air. Quietly standing up and patting over to the kitchen, where you danced, he found himself unable to stop his feet from mirroring your movements. He found himself wishing to step in and take you in his arms as he would slowly rock the two of you in a steady motion together. 

He wondered what you would do, if you would join him and take the lead. If you would let him take care of you. Or maybe you would just jump out of his arms and smack him in the face. But maybe this was his chance, to take this a step forward and make all those dreams of his come true. But it could be a step back, this could be the end of a friendship with no chance of repair. He spun when you spun. He stepped when you stepped. He even mimicked your shuffle and tiny shake you did to the soft beat. But not once did he step closer to you. Not just yet he voiced to his heart, we need to be patient. 

But one finally twirl soon put an end to that as you twirled right into Marcus’ open arms. Colliding with the man who stumbled to stop you from falling to the floor with a bowl of mashed potatoes. Staggering back with you held, or rather clutched, in his arms, Marcus paused to take in this moment. Alarms rang in his head that this is what he had been waiting for, what he wanted. But as quickly as the moment happened, you quickly spun him out of it as your laughter echoed through the apartment.

“Shit, did I almost take the both of us out with my crappy dancing!”

Marcus smiled at your laughter, “I don’t think it was that bad.”

“You're being nice, I’m awful,” you shouted as you stood up on your own and walked to the refrigerator, still laughing and smiling. 

He watched as you walked out of the moment he was having but mirrored your smile as soon as you turned back to him. The poor man couldn’t help but smile when you smiled. “Not as awful as those sweet potatoes,” he gave a wink to your astonished face.

Your giggle soon traveled through the apartment again causing Marcus to join in. He could never not join in your laughter. 

“Yeah, I suppose sweet potatoes are completely out. I don't even know why anyone likes those things!” you rubbed your face as your nonstop laughter had started to hurt your face.

Marcus couldn’t help himself anymore. He walked up to you and took your hands away and replaced them with his. Slowly he rubbed small circles into your muscles, watching your wide eyes stare back at him. Holding his own breath as he looked for any signs of discomfort, he continued to ease your eyes closed. 

“Tonight was great, I can’t wait to see what you have prepared for tomorrow,” Marcus whispered into your temple which he followed up with a kiss and a smile. Grabbing his work jacket, Marcus exited your apartment, leaving you dead silent. With a hop and a skip to his apartment, the agent was rapidly putting together a plan and he needed some time to prepare for tomorrow. His heart pounded with joy.

Pie

The wood flooring of your apartment was wearing away as you ran a steady track around your dinner table. Flour, chocolate, bread crumbs, and pecans were thrown about the kitchen. The sink was full to the brim of bowls and utensils, and even some more used measuring cups set aside. The turkey samples, stuffing, and pies were all done and set, really the dinner table never looked better with the mass assortment of desserts. But the mess alluded you, not too long ago you had tried to quell the horde of dirty dishes but found yourself too fidgety as your eyes jumped from the dishes to the door to the hallway. Marcus was running late and you were about to explode. Last night he had stepped so close to you, he was a mere inch from your face. With his arms entangled around you, cradling you from falling, you got a whiff full of the sweet and delicious smell that was Marcus. You were so close to dropping the bowl of food and throwing yourself on him, that you quickly spun out of his arms to get away and not embarrass yourself. But Marcus, that affectionate and beautiful man, just had to step back into your space. He just had to calm you, be with you as he messaged your temple. And then that damn kiss. You could have fainted. You nearly did after he left. And now here you are running in circles, trying to escape your mind and wash dishes, but you flinch with every noise coming from the hall. Giving up on the hopeless mess of dishes, you closed the door to the kitchen, hoping to forget it all. Unfortunately you didn’t know what to do with your time now.

It had been a long night, and a long day, in anticipation of what might happen tonight. You still felt the ghost of Marcus’ hands on you, even felt the linger of his eyes to your lips. There were always hints here and there in the past, but last night was like you were slapped in the face with a turkey. He had told you stories of the dates he had taken past partners out on. Picnics under stars, museums trips, rock concerts, and stay at home dates. It seemed so dreamy to you. And recently you felt like all that gushy lovey stuff was within reach. Marcus Pike, your cozy and humble neighbor turned friend, seemed within reach.

Especially when you received a knock at your door. Jumping from your couch, you practically ran to your door, stopping only to pause so you could compose yourself. Calmly opening the door, you came face to face with a bouquet of flowers, all your favorite. Marcus pulled the flowers down, revealing his glowing smile that elated you.

“I thought that since today is the final test day, your turkey pig could show his gratitude,” Marcus softly divulged to you.

Taking the bouquet and allowing him in, your finger grazed his as you took him in, “You didn’t have to do that. Your honest opinion was enough.”

“No it really isn’t enough,” Marcus grinned as he paused and lifted a box into his arms from the hallway. You didn’t pay any mind to the box since Marcus was known to bring files from work home with him. He closed the door behind him and placed the box on the ground again, “You’ve made my day a thousand times better this last week, I wanted to give you something as beautiful as these nights have been.”

“Marcus…” you sighed out as you placed the flowers in a large vase and centered them on the table amongst the food, “That’s…that’s so sweet.” A gentle smile graced your face. “I’m glad you feel that way cause I feel the same way,” you continued as you turned towards him.

“We should do this more often, not as a favor or as a guinea pig, but as a date. That is if you want that,” Marcus looked hopeful to you.

“I think that’s a great idea.”

“Good then forgive me for thinking that this, tonight, should be our first date.”

“Tonight? But I…” you trailed off as you looked over at the dishes of food set out.

Marcus laughed and squeezed your hand, “Don’t worry, you just sit and I’ll set it up.” He winked at you as you sat and he turned to the box that he had brought in with him earlier.

Flipping the lid off, Marcus brought out a portable record player that was in the shape of a briefcase. Opening up, he grabbed a record from the box and placed it on the player, allowing the music of one of your favorite artists to flow through the air. He then placed and lit several candles around your apartment and on your table. Lowering the intensity of the lights in your apartment, he then returned to the box and brought out two long flute glasses with a deep red wine to pair with them. Pouring you and him a share, he then grabbed the back of the chair you were sitting in and scooched you closer to his chair, chuckling as you let out a small squeak. 

Marcus placed a quick kiss to your head before sitting down beside you. His hand lingered on your knee as he grabbed his wine and lifted it to you. Obliging him in his toast, you lifted your wine as well. 

“A small toast for happy times, homey nights, and hopeful wishes,” Marcus’ eyes crinkled as he admired you.

You smiled wide at the man before you, “I’m surprised you didn’t just say horny night.”

Marcus busted out laughing. Leaning forward to you as you squeezed his hand, he considered you for a short moment, “We’ll save that toast for later, I promise.” 

You sipped your wine before jumping in to dish out portions, just as you had done the past two nights. Before the two of you were small portions of turkey and stuff, all different in taste and style, all glowing in a warm delicious splendor. But Marcus, always strung along by his sweet tooth, looked on to the pies. You laughed as he grabbed your hand and pulled you over to the desserts, catching you in his lap as you knocked into him. With his arm around your waist and his head perched on your shoulder, you squirmed only slightly as you went to describe the variety of pies.

You pointed out the classic apple, pecan pie, and pumpkin pie that sat before him, feeling his hands rub up and down your waist and hips, making you lean into him. The sweet turtle cheesecake was next, dribbling with chocolate that made your mouth wet just as Marcus’ fingers slid down to your legs and quickly returned up to your waist. Your breath hitched to his movement, stopping you from continuing your speech, which then stopped his own roaming. You started again on the next dessert and he started with his roaming. You huffed to yourself, this son of a bitch knew what he was doing. As you described the pecan pie cheesecake next, Marcus nuzzled into your neck just as his hands glided down to your thighs again. Firmly you instructed him on how hard it was…to bake and whip up the bright pinkish cranberry pie, flattening your hands on his to keep them firmly on your thighs. The apple butter pie was next, a delicious pie that was the sweetest with a crunchy crumb top, one that you decided you could dine on for the rest of your life just as Marcus decided to widen his hands so his thumbs brushed the inside of your thighs. The last dessert, mini piecakens, was good for travel, you advised him as you squirmed your ass against Marcus’ tenting pants.

“Which should we try first?” his husky voice heated your ear.

“This,” you said firmly as you turned to him and slotted your lips to his.

Turkey’n Stuffing

The dinner table was not a comfy spot, but it was where Marcus laid you out and devoured your neck. It all happened so quickly, but it was obvious the two of you wanted this to happen badly. In a blink of an eye you were kissing your neighbor lying underneath him. As soon as you had started kissing him, he had returned the favor in kind, holding you tight to him as roughly kissed you back. He wrapped one arm around your waist and the other knotted into your hair, holding your head to his as his tongue ran across your lips. Opening your mouth wider, Marcus’ tongue plunged into your mouth just as a moan erupted from you.

You felt his hands shift to your hips, moving under your shirt in a tight grip that held you up in the air and then brought you down to grind you down onto him. Another moan broke through the air, this time from Marcus as bucked up to you when you tangled your hand into his hair. You quickly went to attack his neck with your lips as he gasped out and quickly moved his hands under your ass, hauling you up to his chest as he stood and quickly pushed several of the foods aside to place you flat on the table.

“I’ve dreamed of having you like this so many times,” Marcus whispered as he crawled on top of the table, hovering above you. His imagination had gotten away from him on many different occasions as he thought about what it would be like to dine on you. Now he was getting his chance. Slowly he trailed his nose against yours, lightly brushing his lips to yours. He soon brought his lips down to your jaw, nibbling down to your neck where he finally paused and looked back up to your closing eyes. His own eyes looked concerned and pleading as he posed one of the most desirable questions you had ever heard, “Would it be ok if I left a mark?”

“Fuck yes Marcus,” you huffed out and stretched your neck out to him. He placed a quick kiss to your throat and then attached his lips and even his teeth to your skin. You felt hot all over your body as the man didn’t let up. You felt the heat of his mouth, the heat of his breath on your sweet skin. You even felt the heat of his body crowding you to the table with his own large frame. But it was the heat building at your core that was most prevalent in your mind. And you so badly wanted Marcus to feel it as well.

Steadily you rocked your hips up to the man, gliding one leg over his hip and pulling him down to you. His hand gripped your leg, securing you to him as he sucked harder at your neck. He only released your neck from his hold when you ran your nails down his back, letting the sound of nails on fabric ring through the apartment.

“Fuck I really want to feel you honey.”

“Take your shirt off,” you commanded Marcus who in turn quickly ripped the work shirt off, displaying his chest to you for a second before he bent his head to the other side of your neck, making sure it would match the previous side. “Can I mark you too?” you asked between breaths as only a mumbled yes came from the busy man.

Red marks ran down Marcus’ back causing him to grind down on you. Every long mark down his body, or clutch of his hair made the desperate man moan and grind down hard on you and to the wood table below the two of you. You on the other hand, were fairing no different. His devotion soon left your neck and traveled down to the opening of your shirt, where his eyes pleaded for you to remove the offending garment; you gladly did.

Marcus’ marks didn’t stop at your neck, the man was on a mission to leave marks all over you as he put his full attention to each one of your breasts. If he wasn’t sucking on one, he was squeezing and massaging the other. Your chants of his name were rewarded with praises.

“Knew from the moment I first moved her I would find someone as special as you.”

“Knew you would taste so sweet, just like your baking.”

“Knew you were so beautiful.”

The man couldn’t stop his mumblings into your skin, even as he finally rip his and your remaining close off, nipping and kissing the rest of your skin, before you finally pulled him back to your mouth with a satisfying, “Fuck me.”

He was happy to comply.

Soup, Sauce, ‘n Sides

Just a week later was the Hanks-giving dinner. In your opinion, the week went by too fast. Marcus had stayed at your place many nights, and on the nights he wasn’t at yours, you were at his place. The two of you texted during the day, called for lunch, and jumped into each other's arms when you both got home. You would come home to “Honey, sweetheart, baby.” His belly was always full just as his heart. The two of you fit together perfectly, especially at night when you and Marcus would be in a tangle of limbs.

On the day of Hanks-giving, you had introduced Marcus to the wonders of monkey bread, gooey and sticky caramel rolls that he happily chowed down. After a long walk together hand in hand around the neighborhood, Marcus graciously helped you prepare the grand meal. Splash played on the TV in the background as you spent long hours in the kitchen. Following your instructions to a T, you and Marcus made quick effective work.

A long flowing rust colored cloth covered the clean table, decorated with small tall candles and flowers that Marcus had bought the previous day. On a separate table near your living room, were dishes full of caramelized onion & goat cheese bites as well as cranberry whipped feta dip with your homemade chips. On the dinner table were two baskets of golden rolls, one porcelain gravy boat full of heated gravy, and a large bowl of vibrant cranberry sauce sat at various spots on the table. Mixed in with the side dishes were the vegetables that Marcus diligently worked on the green bean casserole and the honey balsamic glazed brussels sprouts. While he was busy with the veggies, you worked away on the cornbread stuffing and the roasted garlic mashed potatoes. At the center of the grand table was the roast turkey, glowing all in its beauty. 

Your friends had gathered around the table, with glasses of cranberry mimosas in hand. You and Marcus sat at the head of the table, right next to each other. The two of you were close enough that he leaned over from time to time to rub his hand up and down your leg. The beautiful man even whispered praises into your ears as you hummed and fed him bits of your own food.

The dinner went extremely well, and you and your friends spent the rest of the evening watching Forest Gump and The Terminal. Settling for the classics, your guests complimented the two of you on your pumpkin and apple pies. Everyone spaced themselves throughout the living room in various places of cozy and comfort; you and Marcus claimed a large chair to tangle in as the movies play. Marcus dotted your nose with some of his own homemade whipped cream that decorated his slice of pie. He smiled at the giggle you released. Leaning into you, slowly placing his lips to yours, he felt you happily give the smile right back to him back. Pulling back he smiled wider as you giggled louder at the dot of whipped cream that now decorated his face.

“Well how was your Hanks-giving, Agent Pike?” you asked as you scooped the cream off his nose and sucked it off your finger.

Marcus watched you with a raised eyebrow, “The best one I’ve had in a long time, and I think it’s only getting better.” 

You agreed as he leaned into you again, smothering you in a heart stopping kiss as Sleepless in Seattle started to play next.