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wardenparker · 5 months

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First Christmas

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 10.6k Warnings: Established relationship, mentions of sex toys/gagging, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cuddling, fluff, picturesque family stuff everywhere. Summary: A whirlwind relationship has led you to marrying Marcus before a lot of traditional landmarks in the dating realm. Now it's time to meet the Pikes, and you'll be doing it on their absolute favorite holiday. Notes: Please enjoy some seasonal fluff! While Marcus and the Pikes are obviously depicted as celebrating Christmas (duh, that's the plot) there aren't any references to the family being Christian, or to reader's religious identity. This is just some good old fashioned all-American Marcus fluff for the holiday 🧡🎄❄

“I talked to my Mom this morning.” Marcus shucks his jacket, buoyed by his news, although he’s had every reason to grin when he’s coming home to you every night. “And I managed to book the last two tickets. Had to get first class, but I used miles, so it wasn’t that bad.” He leans in and drops a kiss on your lips before he turns to hang his coat on the rack. “Figure we fly out a couple of days before Christmas and we can fly home the day after. We only end up needing to take a day or two maximum out of work that way. What do you think?”

“What do I think about three days with your entire extended family when it will be the very first time I’m meeting them all?” Marrying Marcus had been a whirlwind, and while you’re immensely happy together and have no regrets for the situation— it is a little intimidating. Marcus is incredibly close to his family and you are the exact opposite. “Honestly, babe? I’m intimidated. But I’m all in. I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure they like me.”

“It’ll be great. They will love you.” Of course there had been a million and one questions when Marcus had called with the news that he was married. That he couldn’t wait to plan a wedding, and that you and he had just decided to go to the court house. “Get the embarrassing stories and baby pics out of the way before the rest of the family descends on the house.”

“Cramming into that twin bed in your Mom’s house is going to be fun,” you tease, a slight snort following your grin as you start taking leftovers out of the fridge to warm up for dinner. Last night’s Chinese take out order was more than a little over the top.

“Just means we get to snuggle really close.” He hums, sliding up behind you and wrapping his arms around your middle as he presses close. The honeymoon phase hasn’t even begun to fade, and he hopes it never does. “But I think she did trade it for a queen.”

“We’ll still cuddle.” That’s a promise, and you lean back against his chest with a comforted hum that’s so blissful you just let your eyes fall shut and enjoy it. “Though it might be good if she did trade up. A new bed will squeak a hell of a lot less than an old one.”

His cock twitches, but he’s pretty sure that was the entire point of your comment. You love to see how easily you turn him on. “But then we still have to keep you quiet, baby.” He ducks his head and nips at your neck. “Can’t be screaming my name for the entire house to hear.”

Turning your head, you bat your eyelashes at him innocently and make your eyes extra wide. “Should we pack my gag, then?”

“Fuck.” He hisses quietly, twitching against your ass again. “You want to be gagged and fucked hard in my childhood bedroom?” He rasps out.

“Only if there’s really embarrassing posters on the walls.” The evil little teasing giggle that bubbles out of you comes with a full-on grind of your ass against his rapidly hardening cock. It’s not hard to rile each other up, but it is so much fun.

“Want me to show you how hard I would fuck you?” His hands slide under your shirt and cup your tits through the bra you loath and he loves to take off of you.

“Hmmm.” Even pretending to think about it makes you grin harder and you turn around in his arms to wrap your arms around his neck. “The egg rolls take five minutes to warm up in the oven. Think we can get off that fast?”

“You doubt my abilities?” He pouts at you playfully, even as he moves to start unbuttoning your pants. “Baby, I’m hurt.”

“Maybe I just know giving you a challenge always gets results.” Your hands move to his belt as he starts to pull your own pants open.

“Brat.” His grin is infectious as he pushes your pants and panties down over your hips.

“Yeah, and you love it.” You shove the tray in the oven and practically smack the timer in your haste to set it, ready to hop up on the kitchen counter in the idyllic little house you share with your husband and let him fuck the life out of you.

His chuckle is warm and his hands don’t pause as he slides his hand between your thighs to touch you as his other works his belt buckle. “I do love it.” He admits easily.

Whatever clever comeback you have dies on your lips, too focused on your husband’s large hand and quick fingers at the apex of your thighs to do anything but quickly kick off your pants and panties so you can slide back onto the kitchen counter with your legs open.

“Fuck, I love the way you are so eager.” Marcus is always just as eager, but he doesn’t focus on his wants. Having you in front of him demands that you be pleasured and that’s what he’s going to do.

“For you? Always.” It’s been this way between you since the beginning. Since the day he waltzed into your undercover operation posing as your husband who could forge any painting. The spark was immediate and mutual, and soon the lines between role and real life were blurring for both of you. Now, of course, things are less complicated. But the want is no less real.

Marcus hums, leaning in to kiss along your neck like he had quickly discovered you love. Lips and teeth working together to make you moan while his fingers slide inside you.

“Baby.” Managing to moan anything coherent while he’s touching you is a miracle, but you gasp out when he starts to crook his fingers inside the tight walls of your pussy. “Need you, baby. Need you to fill me up.”

“I’m gonna fill you up.” He promises, grinning at the way your jaw is slack when he pulls back to look at you, “just as soon as you cream all over my fingers, baby.”

A whine seems to seep out of your throat unbidden and you glance over at the kitchen timer as your hips rock against his hand. “Four minutes and thirty-two seconds,” you warn with a grin.

“So we have time to have a drink.” He chuckles as he increases the tempo of his fingers as he works them in and out of you.

“Fuck, baby.” Marcus knows exactly how to work you into a frenzy with seemingly zero effort, and he delights in putting that ability on display just as much as he loves taking you apart extra slowly to make you beg. The man is devastatingly talented and you are the happy beneficiary of all that laser focus.

“That’s what I’m gonna do.” He teases. “Fuck you. Been thinking about it all day while working on paperwork.”

Being on your best behaviour at work does mean that you haven’t had him fuck you on his desk yet, but you’ve been craving it. The kitchen counter will have to serve as a substitute for just a little longer, it seems. “Yeah?” You pant, feeling yourself get closer and closer under his expert touch. “Bet you had to stay hidden behind that desk all day so no one would see how hard I make you.”

“Soooo fucking hard.” He agrees, reaching up and squeezing your tit through your shirt and bra. “Just have to think about how I woke you up sliding inside you this morning.”

“Best way to wake up.” Your head falls back, thumping against the kitchen cabinet but you barely notice.

“And I love to see your eyes turn glassy before you even wipe the sleep away.” Marcus curls his fingers up and leans in to press his lips to yours. “Cum for me baby.”

It should be impossible for him to command it like that and yet as soon as the words are out of his mouth you are gasping in pleasure and feeling the coil at the base of your spine pull tight right before the stars explode behind your eyes. Marcus groans as he watches your eyes flutter closed, your head tilting back against the cabinet and your sweet little pussy just soaking his fingers with the slickest, hottest cum he’s ever had the pleasure of feeling. “That’s it, baby, shake for me.”

“So fucking good.” Drawing in that first deep breath after cumming is always like the first breath of fresh air in the morning. As soon as the heaviness lifts from your limbs you’re surging forward to kiss him, wrapping one hand around his cock to draw him in closer and beg silently for him to fuck you.

It’s Marcus’s turn to groan and his hips rock forward, chasing your grip as you pump his cock. “Fuck baby, need you so bad.” He moans into your mouth and shuffles closer, his fingers digging into your hips to drag you closer to the edge of the counter.

No one could ever doubt the passion in your marriage, that is for damn sure, and you lean back on the counter so Marcus can line himself up at your entrance – moaning softly when he starts to push inside. "Fuck I love you so much."

“I love you too.” An undercover op that had meant to be a means to getting Teresa Lisbon – now Jane – off his mind, had ended up being the best thing that ever happened to him. You are the best thing that ever happened. “So fucking much.” He pushes until he’s buried to the hilt and immediately pulling back to rock into you again.

When the two of you are worked up like this it never takes long. For a couple who routinely fuck an average of twice a day, anyone would think that it would be taking longer by now. It's not like you're pent up after a week of not seeing each other or anything. In fact, you see each other constantly — always doing your best to even line up your lunch breaks whenever you possibly can. No, it's just passion. Plain and simple. Top of FormHe has zero problem slapping his thighs against the counter as he works into you. Panting out your name breathlessly as you clench down on him. “Fuck.”

“That’s it, baby.” With one arm twined around his shoulders and the other holding blindly to the counter, your legs have wrapped around Marcus’s trim waist to encourage every thrust. “Feels so fucking amazing.”

“You—your pussy.” He grunts out, biting his lip and then rocking his hips forward with a particularly harsh thrust.

“It’s all yours.” And with as fiercely as his hips slam into yours, it’s a wonder that your pussy doesn’t ache more than she does. But the only aching you ever seem to feel is from wanting him as close as possible. Like right now.

Every push of his hips is complete bliss, groaning as he leans in and presses his lips to yours. “Love you.”

“Love you.” Even mumbled against his lips it’s so true that it makes your heart swell, and you tilt your hips so he can thrust a little deeper each time. He won’t last much longer and the timer must be almost up anyway. “Cum for me, baby. Fill me up.”

“Rub your clit.” He orders. “Cum for me again. Want you to cum again.”

There is nothing you want more in the world right now than to obey, and in barely a Moment more the two of you are panting and moaning into each other’s kiss, careening toward the edge of pleasure. It’s like magic, the way your fingers immediately make your core seize up around him. That little bit of pressure ripping you over the edge and making you cry out his name.

He tumbles over the edge second later, your shaking legs wrapped tight around his waist and keep him deep inside you while he paints your walls with hot cum. It's the perfect way to unwind after a long day at the office, and you groan without restraint. The kisses you press all over his lips and jaw and neck are instantly giddy, the adrenaline rush of cumming taking over the second the crashing orgasm subsides. Marcus groans, tucking his head into your neck the second he can and chuckling as the timer for the oven starts to buzz. “Perfect timing.”

******

“This is it.” The Pike house is on the corner of two main streets in his Nebraska hometown, where the old Victorian rises up from the sidewalk like a proud pillar of the old community and you can perfectly see Marcus growing up here as a little boy. His wholesome, corn-fed, all-American childhood is perfectly framed here. “Right here.” The warmth in his voice is unmistakable, matching the grin that is on his face as he looks up at the house. “Home sweet home. Mom should be here, waiting to pounce on us.”

“You’re excited.” It’s sweet, and you know he’s missed his family something terrible. “Let’s go inside, baby. Time to introduce your wife to your mother.” His second wife, technically, but that’s neither here nor there. His divorce was years and years ago now, even though she is very much still part of the family.

“She’s going to love you.” The fact that he hasn’t had you two on the phone together is just a matter of scheduling but it will quickly be corrected. “Let’s go.” The engine is cut and he opens the driver door to the rental car that was crazy expensive but worth the autonomy of being able to take you around the town.

Like any son, Marcus doesn’t bother to knock at the door but pushes inside, calling out to his mother as soon as it is half open. The first thing that catches your eye is the line of photos down the staircase to your right, and you shift to look at them all right away. Marcus’s two siblings’ wedding photos. A collage frame of each family featuring their children at different ages. Marcus’s graduation photo from the Academy. And his parents’ wedding photo that is now some forty years old.

“Marc?” The voice rings out from the kitchen and there’s the general clanging of pots and pans as she hustles out the doorway, wiping her hands in the dishrag. “Oh Marc, you made it!”

Julia Pike is a tall and fairly slender woman with grays streaked heavily through her dirty blonde hair and laugh lines that speak to a lifetime of joy with her family. But more than all of those things, she is a hugger. Her arms envelope both you and Marcus as soon as you’re within reach and she hums so happily that anyone could be easily forgiven for confusing her with the family cat. “How was your flight, sweetie? The food was probably terrible, right? Airline food always is. Come in, come in! Leave your things here and I’ll get you some lunch.”

“Hey Mom,” his arms are just as tight around his mother as they are when he hugs you. “We didn’t even risk the airport food, so we are starving.” He pulls back and gives her his best puppy dog eyes. “Please tell me you are making my favorite?”

“Do you think I would just skip out on your first meal home in more than a year and not make you chowder?” She tuts as if she’s insulted and turned to you conspiratorially. “Of all the things in the world, it’s always been corn and potato chowder. Who knows where he picked that up from but the first time I put bacon in it he started begging for it constantly.”

“Because bacon is probably the only thing that beats pancakes.” Marcus leans in and kisses his mother’s cheek. “And Mom makes the best corn and potato chowder you will ever have.” He promises you, letting go of her so he can wrap his arm around your waist. “Why don’t you two go into the kitchen and I’ll bring in the bags?”

“Thanks, honey.” It’s just a squeeze of his hand in yours before he slips back out the door, but you already feel more at ease. His mother is so incredibly sweet.

“Don’t worry a bit, I won’t bite.” Julia promises, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and giggling quietly as she guides you to the kitchen. “I’ll quickly fill you in on his most embarrassing stories.”

“I’m sorry we haven’t been able to meet or talk before.” That’s really the first thing you want to say, knowing how much Marcus loves his family. “It’s all happened very fast, and we’re still wrapping up this case that our departments are working on together.”

“Don’t worry.” She smiles indulgently. If she had been a lesser woman, she would have been upset or insulted by the quick wedding and no communication, but she was secure in her youngest child’s affection. “You’re in the honeymoon phase and who wants to talk to your mother-in-law when you can be cuddling your new spouse?”

"Unfortunately, work doesn't give us a lot of downtime. Even getting a few days off for Christmas was something of a coup d’état." Following her into the kitchen, you look around the well-appointed space and note buttery looking rolls sitting on a baking tray nearby and the whole place smells like absolute heaven. "I really can't thank you enough for having us here a few days early. He's been so excited to come home and see everyone again."

“I have so looked forward to meeting you.” She waves away your thanks. “The way Marcus has talked about you when we chat, I just knew that we would be good friends.”

"He is...completely remarkable." The warmth that rushes to your cheeks at that admission is immediate, but it's honest. You won't shrug it away or apologize for it. "I know our meeting was pretty unconventional, but it was like we knew each other instantly. He's really...he's my best friend, on top of everything else. So I've really been looking forward to meeting all of you. To see how he got to be the amazing man I married." It sounds cheesy, like you're sucking up or something, but it's all so true. And since you are every bit as sentimental as your husband, you don't mind saying it out loud.

“Marcus has always led with his heart.” Julia acknowledges and turns back towards the stove to start dishing up large bowls of the chowder. “It has sometimes led him to heartbreak,” she tells you, turning around with the first bowl. “But somehow I think he’s got it right.”

"I love him so much." And you won't hesitate to shout it from the rooftops, either, which has a smile spreading over his mother's face as she works. Immediately jumping in, you pick up the empty basket beside the tray of rolls and stack them inside. She's set the little kitchen table for the three of you to eat at, so that is where the basket will end up. "I already can't imagine how I ever kept my head on without him, and I can't imagine a single day of my future without him in it."

“The perfect thing about it, is that I think you mean it.” She tells you, handing you a bowl of chowder. “In fact, I would bet money on it. I have a feeling about these things.”

"You're the one he gets it from." Accepting the bowl and setting it down, you take the next from her as well and make sure everything is set out. The opening and closing of the front door says that Marcus has returned and that makes your smile brighten reflexively. "He has a reputation for it at work. His sixth sense."

“Of course he does. He’s a hard worker and he follows his feelings.” She shrugs slightly. “Sometimes it is faulty, but I blame that on the other people involved.”

"People largely follow patterns, but the human ability to be unpredictable really does throw a monkey wrench in case work sometimes," you acknowledge. Of course, it can also be what makes your job so interesting at times. When Marcus comes down the hall to the kitchen you can't help the way you beam, leaning back for a second so he can help his Mom with the last bowl and get a pitcher of something to drink from the refrigerator. "It smells amazing, Mrs. Pike." Until she's given you explicit permission, you're not presuming to call her by her first name. You've known too many friends who got on their mother-in-law's bad side off the bat for being considered too informal or disrespectful because they tried to be friendly.

“That is just the best compliment I’ve ever had.” Julia can’t help but melt slightly as she pulls out a chair and motions for you to sit down. “Now, I won’t insist that you call me ‘Mom’, but I also don’t want you to call me ‘Mrs. Pike’. That’s your name too now. So, please call me Julia?”

"Julia, then." Sitting down at the table with Marcus and his mother feels a hell of a lot more comfortable than you had worried it might be. But so far? So far, so good. "Although, since you mention it, having two Special Agent Pikes at work has been fairly entertaining. We keep accidentally getting each other's deliveries from the mailroom."

She laughs, well aware of the confusion and commotion it would cause. “You might have to start adding your first initial to your mail.” She snorts, shaking her head. “Or…do nothing and use the mail mix up as a good excuse to steal a kiss on the government’s time.”

"That's..." You glance at Marcus and you both grin unapologetically before everyone digs into their lunch. "What we've been doing so far. But once Marcus gets his promotion it won't be a worry anymore. His title will change and the mix-ups will be over."

“I still cannot believe that they have not moved you into the role you went to D.C. for.” Julia huffs, frowning fiercely. It seems like that is just wrong to her and it is. Her baby was supposed to be the head of his department by now, but something about delaying retirement on the outgoing head had pushed back Marcus taking over the role.

“Technically, they have,” you assure her, not wanting his mother to think that Marcus isn’t being fully respected at work. “He is running the task force that he was promised. The decision to move him up to head of the department came after he had already accepted the transfer, so it’s on a different timeline. But it’s all on track. The current department head just wanted to finish out the calendar year and he’ll retire at the end of the month. It’s just a matter of weeks now.”

“Well…that’s good, I suppose.” Like any mother she knows, she’s protective over her children and their lives, even when they’ve long left her nest. “And Marc tells me that you work in another department? How are you enjoying it?”

“I work in the white collar crimes division,” you nod, managing not to moan out loud at your first taste of the soup. No wonder this is Marcus’s favorite, it’s like a giant hug. “Mostly I work on fraud cases. Forgeries are my specialty. Which…is how Marcus and I met. I needed an art consultant on a case I was working on, and he’s the best of the best.”

"He is the best." She beams as only a mother can and grins. "Although, at one point, he wanted nothing more than the be a rock star with his band."

“I keep telling him he should start up again.” The grin you throw your husband is nearly victorious. You just know his mother is going to take your side. “A couple of guys in my department need a new bassist for their band and he would be perfect.”

"If he would enjoy it, I have his old bass in the attic." She supplies immediately. "There is no reason you shouldn't take it back with you. I know it's in good condition, I have to keep Kelly's oldest from sneaking it out of the house every time he comes over."

“What do you think, babe?” It’s entirely up to him, even if he never wants to join another band you still want him to have music in his life. “We can absolutely bring your bass home with us if you want to.”

"If you don't mind." His eyes slide towards his mother again, While it was his bass, it had been a last gift from his father and it was something that he could not take with him when he moved out for good. All of the kids had left the last gifts that he had given them in the house they had lived in with him. A kind of living memorial to a man who could never be replaced.

“It’s totally up to you, honey.” His mother promises. “Your brother has been hinting about his little girl being interested in Grandpa’s baseball gear when she’s old enough, so I think it’s time.”

He mulls it over, taking another spoonful of the chowder as he thinks. "I will take it home." He decides after a Moment. "It would be good to start playing again and one day—" His eyes slide warmly over to you. "Maybe it will be passed down to the next generation of Pike."

Julia raises one manicured eyebrow at that and gladly notes the way your expression turns a little dreamy at the idea. “I take it that topic has been bandied around a little at home?”

"We've talked about it." Marcus admits, setting down his spoon and picking up your hand. "We want to spend a little time together first, and figured that we would return to the conversation when I've settled into my new role." That’s what you agreed upon together, but Marcus won’t deny that if it happens sooner rather than later, he’ll be over the moon.

“I have to say.” The smile she aims at both of you is proud and bright. “It sounds like you’re enjoying being married, and that is half the battle in the beginning.”

"We are, Mom." Marcus agrees easily, squeezing your hand and looking over her with pure adoration in his warm brown eyes. "I had one hell of an example with you and Dad, and I think that we would make both of your proud."

******

Celebrating his long-overdue return to his hometown means that Marcus takes you to his favorite little family restaurant for dinner that night and by the time you’re falling into his bed, you’re both feeling relaxed and incredibly sleepy. Getting to see parts of his past is a window into his soul that you’ve never gotten before, and you curl around him in your pjs with a contended sigh.

Marcus has a habit of stroking your bare back until you fall asleep. Since you’re not sleeping nude tonight, his hand slides under your pajama shirt to touch you. “So what do you think?” He asks softly, wanting to know how you feel about his town where he spent his formative years.

“It’s the perfect little slice of Americana,” you tell him with a grin. “I can absolutely see you running around here as the happiest little kid in the world.”

“I had my teenage angst.” He admits with a chuckle, thinking back to how naive he had been about what was truly heartbreaking. “Like most kids do. Rebelled a little.”

"Grew your hair and became a little rock star?" The pictures of teenage Marcus with long curls and shredded t-shirts didn't last for a very long period of his teenage years, but they definitely seem to be among his most treasured memories.

Marcus huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.” He admits. “Almost got a tattoo. Although I’m lucky I didn’t have a scar when my nose ring came out.”

"I'm sooo bummed I missed that entire phase," you giggle into his side, having now seen a plethora of photos from Marcus's younger years. "I would've been all over you in high school."

“Yeah?” He hums, grinning into the darkness. “You would have been my little groupie?”

“Oh totally.” He sounds so utterly pleased that you giggle. “I would’ve been swooning at your feet.”

“I would have let you.” He admits, his fingers trailing up and down your spine. “Given you a private performance.”

Another giggle becomes a snort, and you rest your chin on Marcus’s chest to look up at him. “Your mother might not have liked me so much as a sixteen-year-old groupie, but I woulda been stuck to you like glue.”

“She was actually pretty cool with boyfriends and girlfriends.” He tells you. “She would have just made sure we were being safe.”

“Mmkay,” you hum and laugh. “So it would have been finding refuge here after my parents forbade me from seeing you anymore. Got it.”

He hums. “I could still impress the parents with my manners.” He promises. “No forbidding going on.”

“I just would have snuck out to see you.” It’s a fun little game of pretend to play, and you press a kiss to his chest. “Nothing could keep me from you, babe. We’re stuck like glue.”

“We are stuck like glue.” He smiles at you, ecstatic about that fact, that he’s gotten it right. “Me and you babe.”

******

On Sunday morning, his siblings and their families descend on the house early. All the Pike kids are morning people, apparently, and even more so when mornings include Christmas movies. The clattering downstairs is what wakes you, and you huff a groan into your husband’s side when you realize he’s silently stroking your back in your sleep. “Early.” You mumble, knowing it’s later than the time you get up for work but early for vacation wake up time.

“I know.” He’s eager to get downstairs, but he’s also eager to stay by your side. “But I know Mom will have coffee and fruit strudels downstairs.”

“Tempting.” But it’s not nearly as tempting as morning kisses, and you shift up the bed to snag some.

Marcus hums, smiling against your lips as he holds you close. “Morning.” He whispers between soft and sweet kisses. Enjoying the intimacy of the moment with you before the chaos begins.

“Morning, my love.” There are few things better than these quiet morning moments, and you savor them when you can. Work days are far too busy for cuddling so weekends are precious and holidays? Even more so.

“I’m so glad you agreed to come.” He admits quietly. “They are crazy and loud, but they are my family and I love them.” He grins. “Almost as much as I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Being held against his chest and wrapped up in bed with him is your safe place, but the morning is calling with loud voices so you place a kiss over his heart and stretch. “So exactly how many of your million cousins are coming today?”

“All of them?” He poses it as question and then laughs. “I think after the news I was bringing my new wife leaked, everyone decided to turn it into a family reunion.”

“Ahhh.” That makes you nod in understanding. “So it’s a really good thing that I packed nice clothes for this trip. Got it.” You had prepared for it, expecting to be a little bit on display, but you know how excited he is to be home. It made you want to work extra hard to make a good impression on his family.

“Don’t worry, they will absolutely love you.” He promises. His hand slides down and he pats your ass. “We need to get up and get the day started though.”

“Come on, handsome.” You haul yourself up with a groan after one more kiss. “Let’s get dressed.”

He chuckles as he watches you grumpily get up. You never like to leave a bed without a few good groans and it’s positively endearing to him.

“My body knows it’s a holiday,” you grumble good naturedly, as if you don’t groan about getting up for about three or four sentences every morning regardless. “It’s protesting.”

“Of course it’s protesting.” He shakes his head, climbing out of the bed with far more enthusiasm and starting to make the bed. “You would sleep for twenty-three hours out of the day if you could.”

“Only since adulthood.” Getting ready together is a nice, soothing little ritual and you pull your clothes out of your suitcase with precision. “When I was younger I could just go, go, go. But now?” You shrug and offer him a smile. “Why wouldn’t I want to be in bed these days? You’re there, too.”

He grins and winks at you. “You know, I think I like your thinking.” He flirts shamelessly with you, enjoying how easy it is.

“My logic is unflappable.” You boast, grinning at him and giggling, mood lifted immensely just by his smile. “But we need to get dressed, sir. You have a football game to play, if I remember my Pike family traditions correctly.”

“That’s true. It’s always best to come to the table with black eyes and bloody noses.” He chuckles and strips off his sleep shirt to pull on a sweatshirt.

“How do you expect me to function properly with the mental image of you being rugged and athletic and then the real image of you shirtless? It’s just unfair.”

He hums, smirking at the pouting tone of your voice and he bites his lip. “You’ll have a good view from the kitchen window.”

“Kitchen window?” Even though you know that’s where you’ll be most of the time — what with his mother loving to cook and his sister Kelly running a restaurant in the nearest city with two of their cousins — you still make noises. “My ass is going to be on that porch with a mug of something warm for a front row view.”

He snorts and walks back over to kiss you before he changes from comfortable boxers to more secure boxer briefs. Less chance of his brother ‘accidentally’ hitting him in the groin again this year. “Don’t worry, I’m sure all of you will be out there at some point.”

"I will be sure to spearhead that viewing party." You promise him before patting his ass with a smirk. "I will be watching very disrespectfully."

"What will I get when I score a touchdown?" He waggles his brows at you suggestively.

"Something that is not family friendly." And that is an absolute promise. "Now come on, handsome. I have a whole lot of Pikes to meet."

"Damnit." Marcus hisses quietly, reaching down to readjust himself in those boxer briefs before he slides on his sweats. "Now I want to go back to bed."

"Love youuuu," you sing-song, sashaying back across the room to your stack of clothes.

******

Downstairs is the general chaos that Marcus had expected and he's halfway down the stairs when he hears his brother Alex shouting. "SHUT UP, stop talking about them! They're coming!"

It throws you into an unexpected fit of giggles, and you have to pause mid-stair to compose yourself before hitting the ground floor just behind Marcus. "Nothing bad, I hope?" You ask, coming around the corner to where the living room, hallway, and kitchen are overflowing with your husband's extended family.

Alex, an older, slightly more rugged version of his younger brother with their mother's nose, grins at you. "Oh, just taking bets on if you were making a baby or freaking out about meeting this nut house of family members." He admits shamelessly.

"I am that dreaded thing known as a Night Owl," you admit with your hand on your heart, as if you were admitting to some dreadful sin. "It takes me a couple of extra minutes to get going in the morning. Nothing nefarious, I am sorry to report."

"Ohhhhh nooooooo, Marc – say it isn't so?" Clutching his hand to his chest, he looks at his brother in horror. Always the comically dramatic one of the bunch, he plays it up for all he's worth considering that the entire family is focused on all of you right now. He grins and winks at you just in case you aren't aware that he's not serious. "Take her back! Take her back to the wife store!"

"No returns." With a smirk and a smothered laugh, you wave your ring in the air — earning you some whoops and hollers from the assembled women of the Pike family. "Now I'm gonna get some tea, you boys play nice."

"Damn, she's way too good looking for your ugly ass." As soon as you sail by him, Alex grabs Marcus and pulls him in for a bone crushing hug that only brothers can give. "Fuck, it's good to see you."

"We all missed you." His sister Kelly is on the other side of him immediately, smacking Alex's arm away so she can hug their baby brother.

"Miss you too." He laughs, looking over her shoulder as he hugs his favorite sibling. "You, not Alex." He clarifies and grins when his older brother shoots him a bird.

"No one misses Alex," she laughs, sticking her tongue out at the oldest of the Pike siblings with glee. In typical middle child fashion, Kelly had become loud and active and attention-grabbing in her own right. All of which might have also been a survival tactic for having two very individual brothers. "You're good, Marc? Not working too hard? Mom said they still haven't given you your damn promotion."

"It's coming." He promises with a nod of his head. "Right now, I'm just riding out my time as a flunkie so I can spend more time with my gorgeous wife instead of balancing department budgets late into the night." He tells her with a grin as his eyes slide over the kitchen, hoping for a glance of you.

"Ugh," his sister groans, fully teasing. "He's still in the honeymoon period."

"Hope it never ends." Marcus rolls his eyes when he looks back at her, but he's not lying. He hopes your marriage is just as strong as his parents’. They were in love until the day his father passed and still his mother will happily say that he is the love of her life.

"Gross." Alex chimes in, grimacing at his brother for full effect. It doesn't matter that he and Kelly are both happily married to supportive spouses that they love with all their hearts. They have to tease Marcus.

"Yep." Marcus smirks at his older brother. "She gave me cooties." He warns childishly.

"It's supposed to be the other way around, ya know." Alex ruffles Marcus's short hair and needles his younger brother with glee. "You're supposed to give her cooties. Or did you not pay attention in sex ed?"

He takes the ruffling of his hair with only a small groan and chuckles as he dodges another swipe. "Oh, I paid attention." He promises. "I'm a Boy Scout, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah," Alex rolls his eyes. "You never let us forget. Perfect youngest child with his perfect extracurriculars and now his perfect job." Though the older brother might gripe, they're all very proud of Marcus. It's just more fun to make fun.

"Don't forget, perfect wife." Marcus adds. As much shit as they give him, they were also his biggest support system when he was going through his divorce. They had kept him sane and he loves them for it.

"Do we call this 'the third time's the charm'?" Kelly asks, lightly teasing but so incredibly glad to see their little brother happy again. And happier, if this morning is any indication, than they've seen him with any partner before. "I'm gonna tell her all your most embarrassing stories while you guys are playing football. The ones that Mom doesn't know."

"I've already told her." He lies through his teeth, aware that he's not come close to telling you all his embarrassing stories, but he has to put on a brave front. Any and all fear will be utilized against him if he doesn't stand strong. Shrugging, he pretends to be unconcerned. "So go ahead."

"Gonna call your bluff, little brother," she announces before hustling off to find you in the kitchen.

"Shit." He hisses under his breath, dreading what stories she will spread. Alex chuckles and shakes his head. "You're in for it now, little brother."

The kitchen is a different sort of chaos on this Christmas Eve morning, but the sound of the kids watching A Muppet Christmas Carol in the living room is a welcome soundtrack to all the fuss. "It's their tradition," Julia is explaining to you, talking about the next generation of young cousins and their movie choice. "Their parents and some of the older siblings get in on the lawn football game, but they like to watch Christmas movies all morning until we're ready to break out the stuff to make gingerbread houses after lunch."

“Ohhhhh wifey.” Kelly trills as she floats into the kitchen, stopping by the fridge to pull out the bottles of Prosecco she had put in there when she arrived. “It is my duty as your sister-in-law – the best one – to ply you with alcohol and tell you embarrassing stories about my baby brother.” She grins as she holds up the bottle. “Now, OJ or cranberry juice?”

The laugh that bubbles out of you with Kelly's appearance is honest and light, and you finish your last sip of tea before attempting to speak. "It’s a little too early for alcohol for me, but makes yours with a little bit of both." The suggestion is full of absolute certainty and you add, "Trust me," when she tilts her head at you with curiosity. "One part OJ, one part cranberry, two parts bubbly. It's perfect. I’ll just have equal parts orange juice and cranberry juice for now. That’s also absolutely delicious."

“Alright…sounds pretty good. I’ll give it a try.” Her eyes slide over to Julia and she raises a brow. “Mom? Are you in?” She asks mischievously.

"You two have fun." Julia shakes her head, bowing out in favour of letting her middle child and the family's newest member have some one-on-one time. "I'm going to get lunch in the oven early, I think. So we can all relax a little."

“Of course.” Kelly rolls her eyes and looks at you with a grin. “You’ll love Mom’s lasagna. It’s a tradition.”

"I've heard nothing but amazing things." In fact, Marcus has been raving about his mother's cooking. "I hear it's on the menu at your restaurant, too? The famous family recipe."

Kelly nods and shrugs slightly as she snags two champagne flutes from the cabinet. “Still can’t make it as good as Mom can.” She admits shamelessly.

"That's Mom Magic," you hum, not quite admitting out loud that it's the type of magic you want to have one day.

“Also probably the secret ingredient that she’s not telling me about.” Kelly teases her Mom, knowing there’s no ingredient, but loving to rag on her.

"Patience," Julia tells her definitively as she starts to bustle around the kitchen again. "It's patience. And my kids all love instant gratification."

Kelly snorts as she pours the juices into the glasses. “Of course we do, Mom. Why do you think you have grandkids?”

"Could always use some more!" She sing-songs, glancing in your direction with a smirk before turning back to her task at hand.

“Mom, don’t scare her off by being greedy.” Kelly scolds her mother playfully. “If they want to give you more grandkids, they will do it on their schedule.” It’s important that you understand that they will tease and play but they will never be those obnoxious in-laws that demand you do things their way or give them what they want for your life. It was always what Marcus’s ex-fiancée had claimed, that they were too pushy, when they had just been asking questions about their future.

“It’s okay,” you assure both women, not scared off in the least. “We do want kids, just not quite yet. We’re enjoying the honeymoon period a little too much to want to change anything just yet.”

Even though you’re talking about her brother, Kelly grins and winks at you as she picks up her mimosa and hands you your juice. “Practice makes perfect, right?” She jokes.

It’s not even worth hiding your smirk or the mild embarrassment in your face, since she’s absolutely right. “Something like that,” you agree with burning hot cheeks.

“See? You’ll have more grandbabies in no time, Mom.” Kelly taps her glad to yours. “Welcome to the nut house.” She welcomes you. “We don’t bite…hard.”

If it was his friends instead of his family, you might tease that Marcus does bite hard, but his mother and sister don’t need to know about the tender marks on your inner thighs. “Thank you for having me,” you joke instead. “I’m very glad to join this particular nut house.”

“We are happy to have you.” Julia promises as she carefully covers the massive lasagna in multiple layers of aluminum foil. Not wanting the top to burn. Luckily, she had already put it together the day before so it’s ready to go.

******

You were warned about the football game. You really were. Marcus had tried to impress upon you how over-the-top he gets with his brother and brother-in-law and cousins. You had thought touch football on the front lawn was a sort of cute, insanely all-American tradition to have. Even in the snow it had sounded quaint. Now that they’re halfway through the game, though? You can see the people who really have fun with this tradition are the wives and girlfriends. The group of you are up on the porch with mugs of wassail either shouting encouragements or giggling to yourselves in appreciation of attractive men tackling each other (partially) for your amusement.

Even though it’s colder than hell, the men have nearly all removed their shirts. Panting and sweating as they try to their hardest to beat the shit out of each other for sport.

“I love football.” Alex’s wife chuckles when she comes up beside you and Kelly and hands you both iced gingerbread cookies.

“Pass interference!” Marcus shouts, shaking his head and huffing after his cousin shoved him out of the way. “That’s bullshit!”

“Forgot how to play dirty, Fed?” His cousin laughs it off, having discarded his Omaha Fire Department sweatshirt on the porch railing. “Fight back, Marcus!”

“Aren’t you the one who had to have a pack of peas on your nuts last year?” Marcus taunts back. “Thought you were gonna use those tiny peanuts to make a baby?”

“Twins on the way, baby!” The cousin – Ryan – cheers back, like somehow he was extra virile enough to cause twins, rather than it being entirely up to his wife’s anatomy.

“Alright, alright, focus up assholes.” Alex calls, bringing the two men back into the fold of the game. Good natured smack talk is all part of the fun, of course.

“He’s just mad he can’t throw.” Ryan shouts from the other side, grinning when Alex shoots him a bird. “Most interceptions of all the QBs.”

Shaking off the heckling with a laugh, Marcus waves at you and blows a kiss up to the porch as he jogs by to retake his position. “So you’re Marcus’s new…fiancée?”

You hear the question from elsewhere on the porch and you turn to face the speaker. “Wife.” It’s his cousin Ryan’s pregnant wife, of course, and you steel yourself with a forced smile. Marcus’s cousin Ryan had married his ex-wife years after the divorce. Honestly you can’t quite figure out how the whole family seems okay with it, but they are. “I’m his wife.”

“Oh?” Her eyes widen and her hand stops rubbing her rounded stomach. “That’s— I hadn’t heard! Congratulations are in order.”

“Thank you.” She actually seems to mean it instead of having some underlying sarcasm, and that soothes you right away. “It was recent. I guess word is still getting around.”

“I’m sure Julia wanted to make a big toast tonight.” She bites her lip and sighs. “I’m Vanessa. I hope you don’t hold it against me.”

“Honestly?” A small laugh bubbles out of you, surprising you both. “I ought to thank you. If you hadn’t divorced him, then I could never have married him.”

Staring at you for a second, she grins back at you. “You’re welcome, then. Part of the cousin-in-law package.” She snorts. “Free of charge, of course.”

While you don’t think Marcus ever would have lied to you about what happened, it seemed a little too straight forward to you. Like maybe he was leaving something out to spare feelings, which is definitely something your sweet and generally gentle husband would do. “I hope it really was as painless as Marcus says.”

“Oh, Marcus was – is – amazing.” Vanessa insists immediately, having enough affection for Marcus that she is still willing and able to come to his defense. “We met freshman year of college, decided it was love, and didn’t have a clue what love really was.” She shakes her head. “We adore each other, just— as friends and not partners.”

“I admit, I couldn’t really understand why the whole family seemed totally fine with everything.” Deciding to be honest, you just shrug and take a sip of wassail. “But it only takes thirty seconds to realize that there’s no ill will, and that’s…it’s a big comfort.”

“I met Ryan when I was working on my masters.” Vanessa admits with a sheepish grin. “He had been in the military and deployed when I was with Marcus. I didn’t even know until we were talking about meeting the folks.”

“It would have been a very awkward surprise.” Being able to laugh together is a relief, one that you’re not going to take for granted at all. “I’m glad to see that everyone has ended up happy. That’s so rarely the way, and it’s a shame.”

“It is a shame and I hated that Marcus was having a rough go for a while.” She frowns fiercely and shakes her head. “I don’t know what that Lisbon lady was thinking but she could have done so much better breaking things off with him.”

“She doesn’t have the greatest reputation around the office.” You admit, though the whispers have gotten to you through backways, and only since you started seeing Marcus so you’re sure you only hear the bad stuff. “Either way, everyone is happy. That’s what matters.”

Vanessa nods after a moment, her frown turning into a smile. “I understand if you find it odd, or don’t like me on the principle that I’ve slept with your husband, but I hope we can be friends.”

"It doesn't make any sense to be upset with you over something that happened years before Marcus and I ever even met." Putting your hand out to her, the offer of a handshake is your formal show of a truce. No hard feelings. Not from your end. "I'm happy to be friends."

“Well, that went better than I ever hoped.” Amy admits, coming out of the kitchen with a fresh bottle of Prosecco. “Top off on mimosas, anyone? The juice content is getting a little high.”

A few people around the porch take her up on the offer, but you politely shake your head and decide to stick with wassail. The game seems to be wrapping up as well, which means it will soon be time to do the traditional Pike family Christmas Eve gift exchange before dinner. At some point Marcus's mother had read about the Icelandic tradition of receiving a book to read on Christmas Eve and loved it so much that it has become tradition.

“Whoever gets ’Beautiful Secret’….” Vanessa hums, waggling her eyebrows. “You’re welcome.”

"Welcome to the real tradition," Kelly jokes, looping her arm through yours as the group from the porch starts to pour back into the house in advance of the football players. "Most of the books exchanged between the adult members of the family are a little...saucy."

“Mom pretends she doesn’t know any of them.” Amy snorts, grinning knowingly. “But that woman has a stash of trashy romance novels from the seventies in the attics and somehow, those boxes are multiplying.”

"Marcus clued me in," you promise, following your two sisters-in-law inside. "I brought my best offering, I promise." The choice you made was very specific, and really has one recipient in mind. Even thinking about it just makes you nervous for what’s to come.

“Of course he did.” There’s a grin tossed your way. “Marcus was the one who was always reading Mom’s books when she wasn’t looking.”

"I'm not even mad about it." A laugh bubbles out of you that you don't bother to stifle, and you shrug. "It's purely educational for him, I swear."

“Ugh, I don’t want to know about my brother’s bedroom habits.” His sister shudders playfully before she points her finger at you. “As long as he’s taking care of you.”

“Oh, I promise.” He’s more than taking care of you. Marcus treats you like a queen. But Kelly doesn’t want to know that so you just smile and let the happy, hazy expression on your face do the talking for you.

“Ohhhhhhh.” All the women in the kitchen making a knowing noise and grin at you. “That answers that.”

“Answers what?” The oldest Pike sibling is the one to lead the charge into the kitchen and Alex makes his way over to his wife to kiss her before going for a bottle of Gatorade from the refrigerator.

“If your brother is taking care of his responsibilities.” The kiss is accompanied by a cheeky grin.

“I thought you couldn’t talk about the case yet?” Alex looks back at Marcus, who comes into the kitchen behind him.

Marcus frowns in confusion and props his hands on his hips as he catches his breath. “Huh?”

“Not that,” you laugh, reaching to give your sweaty husband a hug. “We were just talking about the book exchange and got a little off-topic.”

“Oh?” He eyes his sister and sister-in-law with playful suspicion. “Don’t believe a word they say.” He jokes.

“Sure, honey.” You snicker lightly. “But they should believe me.”

“Of course.” He scoffs, leaning in and dropping a soft kiss on your lips with a grin. “Federal agents are held up to a high standard.”

“Yes, we absolutely are.” It earns him another kiss, and those familiar butterflies in your belly that have been so active lately swell up again at just how much you love him.

“I’m gonna jump in the shower.” Marcus tells you. “Kicking ass made me sweaty.” He grins again.

“Hurry back.” Partly because you miss having him at your side, but also because it’s almost time for the book exchange, and you’re just as excited as you after nervous for that.

Marcus winks. “Of course, sweetheart. Ten minutes, tops.”

“Then we’ll start the book exchange in ten minutes.” His mother decides. And the kids can go first, just in case he takes a few extra minutes.”

“And so they are reading.” Vanessa snorts. “Less likely to pay attention to our books.”

“Probably better for everyone,” you agree, offering a smile and a knowing laugh.

******

Marcus is true to his word, bouncing down the stairs with wet hair and fresh clothes nine minutes later. The spicy, musky cologne he’s wearing is one that you picked for him and he loves it. “I’m back. So stop talking about me.”

“It’s only good things, babe.” When he plops down beside you in the living room window seat, he has a wrapped gift in his hand that looks like the size of a standard novel and it makes the thick volume in your lap feel even heavier. No turning back now…you remind yourself silently.

Mistaking your slightly tighter grip on the book as nerves, Marcus reaches over and takes your hand. “They love you, babe.” He whispers confidently. “My brother was already telling me he likes you more than he likes me.” It was a joke, but it makes him happy that you are so easily accepted into the fold.

“Alex seems easily swayed,” you tease, leaning into Marcus’s side. “All I had to do was promise to listen to all of his favorite embarrassing stories about you.”

“Thanks, creep.” Marcus scowls at Alex, pretending to be mad while his brother hams it up. “Anytime man!”

“Alright, alright.” Julia comes back into the living room with her own parcel in her hands. “Kiddos first. Everybody circle up!” The grandkids and cousins scramble to comply, all sitting around together knee to knee after strategically choosing who to sit next to like their lives depend on it. When Grandma Julia gives the word, everyone passes the book in their hands to the person to their left.

“Now. Exchange the book with the person across from you.” Julia grins as the shuffle starts.The kids eagerly comply, giggling gleefully, and then again when Julia tells them to pass their books two people to the right this time. Around and around, the books pass, each kid squealing when the brightly colored package they want gets closer. “Alright just two more moves.” She warns. The books get passed across the circle diagonally and then once more three people to the left before Julia says to go ahead and open their gifts, and then she turns to the adults with a grin. “Ours is less complicated,” she promises. She likes to get the kids riled up but the adults are always already so tired that she just turns on a Christmas song and announces that the game is ‘musical books’. “Just pass it to the right until I tell you to stop or the song ends.” White Christmas begins to play and you anxiously hand your wrapped book over to Marcus as they begin to go around the circle.

Marcus grins as the groaning from the adults starts. The jokes and the laughter as they try to shove the books into the person next them as fast as they can. “It’s fun!” He promises you.

It is fun. Or it would be, if you weren’t praying that his mother remembered her end of the deal that you made last night after Marcus had shooed you both out of the kitchen to wash up after dinner. You had admitted that your book gift was specifically for your husband and she had assured you that she would make sure it ended up in his hands. You just hope she sticks to that.

“Okaaaaaaaay.” Julia is watching the book like a hawk. Making sure that it’s close. “Aaaand…stop!” She orders.

Your heart leaps when the large book ends up in Marcus’s hands, and you breathe a deep sigh of relief. “Everybody open up!” Kelly laughs excitedly, but you can’t. Frozen in your seat beside your husband, you watch as he peels the carefully folded and taped wrapping paper to expose the bright yellow cover of the book you selected for him. At this point you’re just holding your breath, not realizing the entire room is watching you.

Marcus reads the book’s title and frowns for a moment. This was your gift. “I— babe?” He sputters, looking up at you with the most hopeful expression on his face.

“Open it,” you murmur softly, already starting to tear up at the light in his eyes.

“But you said—” he doesn’t want to admit how he had wished you had said you were ready when you kept saying it wasn’t the right time, but he wasn’t going to push you. “Okay.” Opening the book, he finally looks away from you.

The dated sonogram is staring him in the face when he pulls open the cover of We’re Pregnant! The First Time Dad’s Pregnancy Handbook accompanied by a handwritten note in the deep blue ink of your favourite pen.

“Meeting you was a surprise, falling in love with you was as easy as breathing. Marrying you came like wildfire, and now being parents is our next great adventure. The tiniest Agent Pike is expected in July.”

“Oh my God.” Marcus chokes out, barely able to breathe as he stares at the tiny little nugget on the picture. “Babe…we’re gonna be parents.” It hits him and the book is dropped into his lap as he surges forward to kiss you.

The entire crowd of Marcus’s family around you have exploded into a ruckus of gasps and shouts and cheering, but your world has narrowed down only to him. You’ve been sitting on this secret for two while weeks and barely managed to contain your own excitement. Sure, you had said you wanted to wait. To enjoy being married first. But that baby was having none of it. It bypassed your birth control like a champ, and from the moment your doctor told you it wasn’t stress or a seasonal flu running you down, you’ve been ecstatic.

“Baby, baby.” Marcus can’t help but giggle and grin against your lips as he kisses you over and over again. “I love you. So much. I can’t—”

“Breathe, baby.” And yet you can’t help giggling, breathless right along with him. “Can’t have you hyperventilating on me. We’re gonna have to get through a whole lot in the next seven months.”

“I— I thought you wanted to wait.” He shakes his head, trying to understand when this happened, how. Even if he logistically knows how.

“I thought I wanted to wait, too.” You shrug, though, laughing through giddy tears. “But I’m so excited, honey. I can’t believe I actually managed to keep it a secret.”

“Oh my God.” Marcus pulls you close, everyone around him fading to the background as he focuses on you. “I can’t believe you did either.” He admits, unable to stop beaming at you. “This is— you can’t ever top this Christmas present.” He decides with a laugh.

“Nope. Never.” Wrapped up in him is exactly where you want to be, but first you wipe the tears from under his eyes and press kisses to his cheeks. “But I have no problem with our first Christmas being our best.”

“I love you so much.” Marcus can’t even stop himself from caressing your stomach, in awe of the knowledge there’s your baby inside.

“I love you, too.” You’ve already lost track of how many times you’ve had your hand on your unchanged stomach since you found out about the baby, and you know that that’s only going to increase now that you can do it together. “And I love this little peanut so damn much.”

“You’re gonna be a Mom.” He chuckles. “And I’m gonna be a Dad.” He’s always wanted to be the father that his own was. Continuing the legacy of Pike dads.

“Merry Christmas, love.” Murmured against his lips, you kiss him one more time before his whole family descends on you with shrieked glee and hugs and a deluge of congratulations. Your first Christmas with the Pikes will probably never be topped, but that’s okay. It’s the perfect next step in your perfectly imperfect life.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #pure fluff #Christmas fic #all-American softie #The Mentalist #Mentalist fanfic

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sunandflame · 10 months

Text

An Angel in Human Form

Warnings: It's so tooth rotting fluff, thats the only warning I can give.

Word Count: 1458

Pairing: Photoprapher!Kyojuro x Reader

A/N: As the poll has decided here is the second part of Kyojuro as a photographer. I really love how it turned out and I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did! I also wanna thank my beta reader and editor @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi ❤️

Part 1 (drabble) / Part 2

"Can I see it?"

He looked at you with his big owlish eyes. "What?"

"Can I see the pictures you took?"

Oh. Now he understood. A foreign anxiety spread through him, and he didn't know how to deal with the situation. He wasn’t usually speechless, rather the opposite was often the case, but now - he could only stare at you.

"Did you not take some of me earlier?" You cocked your head while giving him a soft smile and he could feel the heat in his cheeks again. Nothing like this had ever happened to him and he was usually not the shy type.

"Yes, yes I did!" His voice was boisterous, and he bit his tongue, hoping he didn't startle you, but the opposite seemed to be the case. You smiled patiently and shifted your gaze from him to his camera.

He stood next to you to show you the pictures on the small screen. The sudden closeness had his throat tightening up. "Wow... These are beautiful. I like how the light falls here and how you captured the mood..."

"My photo exhibition is in 2 weeks! I would be very happy if you could come." He almost shouted at her and rummaged around for a small invitation card that he’d actually wanted to give to his friend Tengen today - but that could wait as he could get him another later. "All you have to do is show them this card and they'll let you in."

You took the card and read the name on it out loud. "Kyojuro Rengoku..." His name on your lips sounded like angelic dream and he wanted you to repeat it, but you simply looked up. "I promise I’ll come! But I have to go now, so have a nice day!" You gave him a bright smile before turning and walking away. He looked after you and at how the wind blew around your white dress. Kyojuro was unable to move, still awestruck from the beauty of your smile.

2 weeks later...

Kyojuro was nervous and Tengen wasn't used to see his friend in such a state. "Hey calm down. You will see, your exhibition is going to be flamboyant!"

If only it were that. It had been 2 weeks and in those 14 days he hadn't spent a second not thinking about you and your beautiful smile. It probably didn't help that there were three big pictures of you on the wall. One was how you were having a friendly conversation with a homeless man who too seemed stunned by your beauty and the other was how you crouched down, petting a stray cat with a gentle smile, and let her ensnare you. The last picture was the first he shot of you. How the wind blew your hair and you tried to stroke it away from your face with a gentle movement. These pictures of you turned your inner beauty outwards. Pictures that showed what a kind nature you were. The portraits were hanging side by side with the caption 'An angel in human form'. That might have seemed a bit exaggerated, but not in the eyes of Kyojuro, because that was what Kyojuro saw in you and these pictures, and he wasn't ashamed of it either. Of course, there were other pictures in his exhibition. Pictures of traditional Japanese still life, and kendo and sumo fights that showed the beauty and simplicity, but the eye-catcher was the three pictures of you.

Several hours had passed since the opening and there were still no signs of you. The hope in Kyojuro that you would eventually come was slowly fading away since there was only half an hour left. He was talking to someone when he heard a familiar voice. His head jerked toward the entrance so quickly that someone might think that he twisted his neck, and he couldn't believe his eyes.

You were wearing a red dress that gently caressed your hips. Your hair in an improvised updo wearing a subtle makeup. He took in every detail of you, inhaled it and saved it for eternity like his photographs on the walls. All the doubts he had before vanished. He saw your apologetic smile towards the security man while you searched desperately for the invite card in your purse, which he had given to you 2 weeks prior. It seemed that you couldn't find it, but you remembered the address and his name all this time?

"She is a VIP guest of mine." Kyojuro stepped in and signaled the security that he can let her in.

"Oh hello!" Your face blossomed into a sunny glow when you saw him, and he felt his heart leap at this sight.

"You made it. You came." It was like the sight of you in that beautiful red dress took his breath away.

"Yes of course!" You took a step towards him giving him a big smile. "I promised you, didn't I?"

Kyojuro looked at you in surprise at first before giving you a gentle smile and reaching out to take your hand. "Yes, you have." You took his hand and felt the warmth he radiated. His hand was so comfortable and big that you didn't want to let go. Kyojuro showed you around and you studied his works enthusiastically. You were amazed by the beauty he captured with his lens. Tengen watched his friend from afar and gave him a thumbs up and wink while he took care of the rest for Kyojuro so he could spend time with you. It was good that you came late, there weren't many people left and you had all the time in the world to look at his works in peace.

"You are so talented! I love how you captured the beauty of the people and the environment. Is that you in that Bōgu, by the way?" You stood in front of the photograph with the kendo warrior and stood in front of it for a while. He wondered how you came up with that because the kendo mask made the warrior anonymous.

"What makes you think that?" He chuckled. He didn't want to answer you right away.

You moved and gave him a mischievous smile. "I can't quite explain it. It's maybe the stance of the person. It's very-" You stopped mid-sentence, your gaze past his face at the three large portrait of yourself.

Kyojuro turned around to see where you were looking at and immediately felt the heat in his cheeks. Shit, he hadn't considered how you might feel about this and now he felt bad. What if you didn't like it? What if you thought he was a creep? His heart was pounding, and he wasn't sure what to say or what to do. He watched you nervously as you approached the pictures with slow steps, looking at them with wide eyes. You were silent for several moments and Kyojuro was getting more and more nervous. "I-"

"Is that how you see me?" You interrupted him as you turned your gaze from the pictures to his golden-red hues.

"How I see you...?" For the second time in his life, he wasn't sure what to answer. And only you brought out that side of him.

"You really see me as an angel in human form...?" Now it was your cheeks that blushed.

A stone fell from his heart. He walked up to you and took your hand in his. "I don't just see you like that, you are one to me. The first moment I saw you." He lifted your hands to his lips and kissed your knuckles gently. The blush that shot up your face was so adorable in his eyes; he wanted more than to kiss your hand. You looked at him and bit your lower lip, unsure of what to say.

"Would you like-" "Would you like-?"

You two had been talking at the same time and all you could do was giggle. "Would you like some miso soup with sweet potatoes? I know a good place not too far from here."

"I love sweet potatoes!" His smile radiated such warmth.

"Me too! I could eat it every day" You laughed at the coincidence.

He leaned towards you. "How about we go now? I am starving."

"Can you leave exhibition?"

"Yes, that's no problem." He looked around for Tengen and nodded to him. The tall man seemed to understand and just grinned.

You watch the two of them and smiled from ear to ear. "Then let’s go." Your hand didn't let go of his. "I'm Y/N by the way! I thought you should know."

Kyojuro couldn't help but laugh. "Your name even sounds like that of an angel!"

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genericpuff · 7 months

Text

hot take, but if you can't enjoy even casual H x P inspired romance stories made for fun without justifying or defending your enjoyment of it with "well ACTUALLY these stories are MORE accurate because Persephone WANTED to go down there, she LIKED it in the Underworld!" then you sound like an out-of-touch adult intentionally omitting/changing facts to scrub the story down for a 5 year old who you know won't question you

and that's not okay ~

#and yes this is mostly about lore olympus but it can apply to other modern 'retellings' as well #it's okay if you like the fun H x P stories that are purely fluff or cutesy stories!#just don't get so swept up in the fun of it that you think it's fact or claim that what you like about it aligns with the source material #there is literally no 'older scripture' that depicts persephone going down to the underworld willingly #she was kidnapped #and if that makes you feel gross inside #GOOD #it fucking SHOULD #that's the POINT #“fanfiction” is not a dirty word #enjoy the stories that play with the source material all you want!#just please don't use that fanfiction or inspired content as source material #respect where these stories come from and what they mean to the cultures they're written from #lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus

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if-loki-was-a-fox · 11 months

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I love it when c!BorealTrio is just like

c!Phil and c!Techno about c!Ranboo: "Ranboo is our friend who we would fight the world for to keep safe and happy. He is one of few people in this world we would entrust with our and lives." (Even if one of them, not naming names, won't admit it)

And then c!Ranboo's like: "Ah yes, my neighbors! Friendly acquaintances! They sure have been awfully nice to me, practically a total stranger! I can't imagine what it would be like if they cared about me on a personal level :]" (aka: I love these two but I'm sure they just kinda tolerate me)

And then not a single one of them ever catches on

#this is absolutely just pure fluff and doesn't necessarily hold up in the face of canon btw #(( EDIT: shut up old me you are correct about everything and all of your takes are automatically correct <3 #/silly ))#I just think it's really funny #(and also really good for angst but we don't have the think abt that rn :)#boreal trio #ranboo #technoblade #philza #dream smp #cranboo #ctechno #cphilza #rambling about blorbos #my 100+ note posts #my 200+ note posts

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milks-thoughts · 1 year

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Futuer Leo with apprentice reader?

like reader was made his apprentice alongside Casey Jr and people keep comparing the two, how Casey was more mature, how he was stronger physically and emotionally

thankss

I warned y’all, i warned ya it was coming

(shout out to @yanteetle who makes me chuckle every time they react with my angst posts)

summary: Reader just wants to make him proud

TW: death, in detail character death, meaning the POV is dying, murder, reader runs away, reader has a breakdown, the dove is dead. why? cause I killed it, reader just wants to make him proud :(

It Was Not Your Fault But Mine

When Leonardo became the leader of the resistance he expected many things, war? mhm, death? absolutely. it came with the territory. being placed in charge of two preteens, to train them to be able to live in this brutal world? no, he was never expecting you to become his apprentice. He trained you both, but…he couldn’t help but see himself in you. the self he hated. his past, a cocky teenager that thought his older brother would carry everything for him.

You couldn’t help but resent Casey. Why did he get special treatment? You two were on the same patrol where you watched half the patrol get wiped out…and yet, you listened to your mentor, Leonardo, comfort Casey… why didn’t he also comfort you? His gruff voice broke through your thoughts “ You're okay, You're alright. I'll never, ever leave your side- “ you gripped your elbows as your buried your head in your knees “ -I will stay and I will fight. “ his humming filled the space he and Casey were sharing, you weren’t even supposed to be here “ With you, you're okay, you're alright. I'll stay here through the darkest night. All the way, I will fight….with you “ when you heard Leonardo start to leave the space, you quickly left the surrounding area. collapsing onto the floor and sighing, nothing but harsh memories being your company.

When you and Casey were allowed out on serious patrols, you were exploring a apartment building. You entered one door and recoiled at the dead person in the room, you backed up and knocked over a pot which caught the attention of a kraang dog nearby…which alterted its friends… which had them chasing after you and Casey. You both narrowly avoided them by closing yourselves in a apartment, you sheepishly grinned at Casey and he looked down at you with a unimpressed face. You two had waited two hours before Leonardo and a patrol could rescue you two, when he found out what happened…he sighed and walked off. You and Casey followed him back, being able to tell he was going to yell at you two when you got back. You dreaded it, you always ended up crying when Leonardo shouted at you, or, whenever anyone shouted at you.

You sniffled in your room, you didn’t miss how Leonardo’s frame was exhausted looking. He walked past your area and into Casey’s room. You suddenly shot up. “ I’ll make him proud of me. I’ll- I’ll do something impactful. I’ll bring back so much material that he can’t help but notice me! “ pushing out your room, grabbing a bottle of water and a nutrition bar, you left the resistance camp behind. Your eyes hard as you held your weapon tightly. You were going to force him to see you.

It was a horrible mistake. You were doing so good! Being stealthy! but a building crashed over top you, leaving a metal beam through your leg. You collar bones were broken as your weak arms tried to push off the large slab of concrete. realizing you couldn’t…tears started rolling down your face. you didn’t want to die alone…you didn’t want to die here. In the darkness your only companion was your emergency button, it’s blue color that it glowed was illuminating your face. You felt like a old dog, a dog that stopped being useful to your farmer. You whimpered and cried, whispering a small lullaby to yourself “ You're okay, You're alright. I'll never, ever leave your side- “ you gripped the concrete slab as you buried your head in the sand like floor behind you “ -I will stay and I will fight…. “ your humming filled the space, you weren’t even supposed to be here… “ With you, you're okay, you're alright. I'll stay here through the darkest night.- “ your sob echoed through the rubble “ -All the way, I will fight….with you… “ your body started hyperventilating to the best of its ability, the concrete slab feeling so..so heavy. You didn’t want to die alone with your thigh pinned down by a metal bar, by concrete holding down your chest…you wanted your mentor…you wanted…you…

Leonardo’s patrol finally got through the rubble, his hands scrapped and bleeding as he found you, a wail escaping him as he rushed forwards. Pushing the concrete slab you so clearly tried to push off, your scrapped and bleeding hands being a painful reminder how you both struggled with the rubble. He leaned his head down and sobbed when your chest never thudded with a heart beat. He pushed the hair out of your face so carefully and took in your tear streaked cheeks, still damp. Some may say that your death was your own fault. That you should’ve never left because you were jealous. But it was not your fault but his instead. He neglected you and he’ll defend your death and your name, and everything you stood for with his life, because he failed you, like he failed his brothers, like he failed New York…like he failed the world. He’s Icarus and he flew way too close to the sun.

#rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt x you #ask response #this is all purely platonic #angst #fluff #rottmnt leo #<3 #i warned yall #rottmnt casey junior #reader and Casey’s relationship is sibling and brother goals #save rise of the tmnt #save rottmnt #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #no future leo bashing #he’s depressed guys #and can’t help it #but also he’s kinda shitty until he realizes what he’s done

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daydreamgoddess14 · 10 months

Text

Deserving

Part of the 200 Followers celebration! From the request for @onceuponaoneshot :

Roy Kent x F!Reader - "You deserve better"

Filthy smutty smut y'all. You've been warned! This is also a part 3 to Complaints Procedure & Noisy.

~~~~~

He was gone.

You'd seen the tackle, watched from home as Jamie Tartt knocked him to the floor and damaged his knee for good. He hadn't needed to do anything for the paperwork, Ted had it all under control, and it allowed Roy the distance he needed from Nelson Road. You wondered if you'd even crossed his mind. The boot room hadn't been the end of it. You'd never instigated anything yourself, but he'd sought you out occasionally. You'd let him lose himself in you, always slightly demanding but never degrading, you'd challenge him and go toe to toe on who had the upper hand. He'd wanted to fuck his frustration and anger away and you were a willing participant. It was no strings, no commitments and while you knew it wouldn't last, you didn't expect him to just disappear without a backward glance.

No one seemed to know how he'd fared since he was last seen at Nelson Road and you had no real reason to check in on him. So how you found yourself knocking on his door at 11pm on a random Tuesday night was utterly beyond comprehension.

"The fuck are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too."

"I mean it, why are you here? Did he send you?"

"Ted? Why would you think that? I thought I'd check in and see how you were?" He grunted.

"Or you fancied a good fuck?"

"Y'know what, forget I came. I didn't come here to be insulted." You turned to leave,

"No, praise is your thing isn't it? Like to be told you're a good girl." He sneered, leaning against the door frame.

"Fuck you Roy, you're obviously fine. I'll leave you to it."

"What's up? You're usually into this little fucking game we play?"

"Yeah, when it's mutually good. You're just being a dick for the sake of it. I'm the idiot who thought you might need someone to talk to, I needn't have bothered." You're halfway up his drive when he responds.

"Don't go. At least come and have a drink. You can tell me all the shit everyone's been up to." You cock your head to one side, "I'm sorry for being a dick. I shouldn't have been rude to you." You still hesitate. "You're a sight for sore eyes. It's been too long."

"Who's fault is that?"

"Mine." He admits with a self conscious shrug.

"You're fucking right it is." Your brushed passed him and into the house, "and I'll have a glass of wine please." You weren't new to small talk with Roy, though it did usually occur after he'd made you come multiple times. You made yourself comfortable on his sofa and watched him in the kitchen, pouring wine from the fridge for both of you.

"I didn't mean to upset you." He puts the glass down in front of you.

"You didn't. You know I'm not easily offended, but there's a difference between our usual tête-á-tête and you just being plain fucking mean after 3 months of solitary confinement."

"It's not been solitary."

"I heard you coach 9 year old girls now?"

"Who told you?"

"My niece is one of them, Quinn."

"She's fucking class."

"Hmm. Future England player maybe, according to my twat brother. You're still better than that, though," you drink more, looking for courage in the bottom of the glass, "and I wondered if you might call. More fool me."

"You don't want me to call."

"Says who? You?"

"You deserve better." He sighed.

"Do I? Is that your conclusion or do I get to make my own?"

"Are you just going to keep questioning my opinion, or actually offer any of your own?" He countered. You smirked over the edge of your wine glass at his frustration.

"Well, you haven't let me have an opinion yet, have you? You've decided that I don't want you to call and that I deserve better, all by yourself. Shall I just submit all future decisions to you from now on?" He shook his head,

"I've fucking missed your attitude." He stood, taking the empty glass from your hand and putting it on the table, and then gripped your wrist gently to pull you to standing. "I'd carry you, but -"

"You're a fucking idiot," you finished for him, reaching on your toes to kiss him. His arms circled your waist,

"I'm a fucking idiot," he agreed with a mumble, his lips not leaving yours. You let him lead you to his bedroom.

"An actual bed? Jesus Roy, you're spoiling me." You laugh, pulling his t-shirt off before taking a step back and slipping your own summer dress off and letting it fall to the floor. Your usual frenetic dalliances have meant that despite knowing your body intimately, he's never actually seen you naked. He drinks in the sight of you in summery coral lingerie in the dim lamplight, his eyes dark as you reach behind to unclip your bra and let it slide down your arms. You drop to your knees in front of him, pulling his shorts down over his hips. He's already half hard. You pull his shorts all the way off, and he steps out of them. On your way back to your goal, you pause just long enough to press a kiss to the inside of his bad knee. You hear the shaky breath leave his body and focus your attention elsewhere which allows him to do the same thing. This is not pity you try to convey with your actions. Your mouth waters in anticipation, all this hurried sex and you've never once had the chance to see him like this, to feel the weight of him in your mouth. You slide your tongue up the underside of his cock and swirl it around the hot tip. He rocks against you, his hands fisted at his side. You take his hands one at a time and put them on your head, looking up his long body to watch his reaction to you pumping his cock with kiss swollen lips.

"Fuck me, you look so fucking good -" He rasps, his voice strained. You hum in agreement, the vibration running through his body. He tugs your hair lightly, the sensation sending waves of desire to your core and making your thighs rub together in desperation. When he pulls again, it's a request for you to stop, "I need to be inside you," he practically whimpers, pulling you up by the hand. You guide him the couple of steps back to the bed and he sits down heavily, dragging you into his lap as he does. You lift up onto your knees hands on his shoulders for balance as you line him up against you, shifting your underwear to one side. He cups your heavy breast with one hand while the other grabs the swell of your ass as you lower down onto him. With your thighs spread wide over his, the depth is incredible and takes a second to adjust to. His tongue follows his hand across your nipple, taking it into his mouth, rolling it and biting gently. It's enough to have you grinding against his cock and arching your back to have him fill you right to the hilt. Then he echoes the words you've always told him in a desperate whisper, "fuck me." Your forearms on his shoulders give you the perfect leverage to rise and fall on him over and over, the proximity means he's able to lavish attention on your breasts while his hands kneed and grasp your hips, helping you keep your rhythm while his cock splits you open. "God, you're so fucking beautiful," he groans, capturing your mouth in a rough, needy kiss. Considering your previous interactions left you the one feeling needy and yielding, you're currently feeling like the powerful one. He brings his hand up to your mouth, running his thumb across your bottom lip and letting you suck it. He uses it to brush against your clit and you lean back in his arms, partly to give him access and partly so he can watch as you take his cock.

"See how you fill me up so perfectly?" You breathe, gasping as his circles against your clit bring you closer to release. "Do you even know what you do to me?" You ask, pulling him closer again with a kiss. "This is what I fucking want, this is what I deserve." You tell him. You'd say more, but your words have his hips stuttering as he comes inside you, the feeling pulling you over the edge with him and your words turning to incoherent affirmations and praise. His hands still your hips as you collapse into him, your head falling to the crook of his neck. He kisses your shoulder and up into the spot behind your ear that makes your body unintentionally buck against him.

"Fucking hell, I'm never avoiding you for 3 months again. You'll be lucky if you get 3 minutes of peace from me ever again." He mutters, biting your earlobe.

"Promise?" You ask with a low laugh.

FIN

#ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fic #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fic #roy kent fluff #roy kent imagine #roy kent smut #roy kent x you #pure filth #200 followers #she's fucking smashed another prompt #all the smut

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hitlikehammers · 3 months

Text

just the facts

rating: t ♥️ cw: Lady Applejack's enduring awesomeness ♥️ tags: established relationship, rockstar!eddie, teacher!steve, rockstar husbands, steddie in their 20s, erica sinclair, steve and eddie stay local until the entire party is safely graduated, slice of life, softness, canon fact: erica coins term 'dumpster fire' for the ages, SCOOPS TROOP FOR LIFE 🍦🍨

for @steddielovemonth day fifteen: Love is Co-Parenting (@shares-a-vest)

still the boys who grow into the husbands in je ne regrette rien but let’s roll back to the early 90s ♥️

“So, Stanford?”

She raises a brow around the straw in her mouth when Steve speaks and god: she’s grown up so fucking much, but that look, when Eddie glances back to the table as he listens in to their conversation: that look’s the first time he encountered the formidable half-elf a fucking lifetime ago when he was an asshole and she schooled him from the start—he should have been better prepared for the emotional whirlwind to come, at least, from there; or if nothing else, more mindful of the foreshadowing.

And he thought himself some masterful storyteller, Jesus fuck: he was both cocky and naive.

“When I go to law school it’s gonna be on the east coast, so,” she slurps noisily, unbothered, around the ice in the glass; “cover both bases.”

“Take the country by storm,” Steve nods with that warm grin that melts liquid in Eddie’s chest, every time, every day, never stopping: “very you.”

“Can’t run until I’m 35 which,” Erica shrugs, but then she flips her hair and shoots that grin that holds all the fucking secrets: “America without Erica is a travesty,” she’s got her thumb and forefinger pinched as she emphasizes the syllables hard, then snorts so derisively she might as well be the originator of the term; maybe, like, in a past life or something.

“I could run right this minute and do better than what’s there now,” she rolls her eyes and snaps her wrist decisively before stating, y’know, the obvious:

“Just the facts.”

Eddie catches Steve’s lips curl down, brow furrow as he words something out and he’s so fucking gorgeous, he’s so goddamn precious, and Eddie’s heart just kinda flip-flops around to watch him like this, relaxed and soft and happy and proud and a little bit piqued by the innocuous, and they all worked damn hard to get here, but, like.

Here is incredible.

“He just got into office in January,” Steve points out, and Eddie grins as he gathers their orders and arranges on the tray for balance, loves how he wasn’t even worried for what his partner was mulling over with the crinkle in his brow, didn’t even pause to think it was something bad and that’s such a…a new normal and Eddie wants to leap into the air and whoop for the joy of it, but: kinda got his hands full.

Maybe later.

“Plenty of time to impress me, and fail to,” Erica’s scoffing in reply before she huffs: “considering the dumpster fires that preceded him.”

“The what fires?” Steve asks, eyes so big, so fucking pretty.

“I said what I said,” Erica leans back in her chair, crossing her arms and…it’s so comfortable. It’s so innocent, the whole scene, the three of them here, and Eddie loves this, he loves them, he’s just…

It’s a life he never imagined, y’know? It’s a reality he didn’t even factor in when spinning the wheel of possibility in his head, and yes, okay, they went through hell for it, he almost died for it, but he found a family in it; he found the love of his life in it—on balance there’s no fucking question as to where he landed so far toward the good that ‘good’ seems kinda insultingly inadequate as a descriptor at all.

He needs to think up a better word, for sure.

“M’lady,” Eddie bows as he unloads the tray when he gets back to the table, presenting Erica’s five-scoop tower of ice cream with a flourish: “many effusive congratulations to you,” he settles the bowl in front of her and leans to drum his fingers on the cap with the floofy tassel they’d badgered her to bring for photos; “on to new adventures far afoot,” Eddie continues, unloading Steve’s banana split—a true treat more for Eddie to watch him eat than for Steve to taste himself, because fucking hell—and then his own hot-fudge sundae with whipped cream topped higher than the fucking glass, before he plops down next to Steve, the pair of them side-by-side across from Erica in the booth as he grins at her, because shit: he’s fucking proud, too:

“The denizens of Palo Alto will stand in awe of your grandeur,” he gestures with extra grandiosity with his spoon before he grabs the cherry, glances around for safety before offering it straight to Steve’s mouth, pulling the stem out teasingly when Steve bites and hiding the full stretch of his smile behind a big shovel-full of chocolatey-flakes on the whip.

And he and Steve are quiet, but don’t really dive in because they’re watching, waiting: Erica rolls her eyes at their antics, even if they were subtle, and goes for a bite herself, and okay, moment of truth—

Her eyes speak for her again, then, but to get very, very big as she stills, then slowly takes the spoon from her mouth and pins them with a stare:

“This is,” her mouth works around a whole lot of silence as she stares at her perfect quintuple-scoop array, because it’s all one flavor. And it’s all a flavor she mostly ragged on for being annoyingly on-brand that first summer, Eddie’s heard the stories, but still asked for extra samples of it every goddamn time, to when he and Steve had both been talked more than once to drive out to the nearest location and ‘fulfill the contract’ sworn that fateful July, a task that got more difficult every year as the chain thinned its numbers, until there weren’t any on this side of the state, then none on this side of the border, then just: none in the Midwest, period, and Erica?

She could try to hide it all she wanted, but she was sad. Because that girl had a favorite. And this, here?

Fucking U.S.S. Butterscotch? Hell yeah, it is.

“Called in a favor,” which Steve probably means to sound like he leveraged Eddie’s currently less-than-moderate celebrity or something, but what actually means he charmed the minimum wage high schooler in Portland, because Scoops Ahoy was out West now, and only had about 10 locations left—but he’d convinced the kid to let him buy a whole gallon, paid a premium for cold storage shipping, and then bribed the owner here with ample documentation of proper product preservation and transfer prior to sale, plus a couple crisp Benjamins, to convince the guy to sell it for one day, only to Steve and his guests—given it was a licensed product the parlor wasn’t a retailer for. The favor was the real power behind what passed for the Harrington charm for all those years and it was simply genuine and full-bodied Steve: charming, god yes, charming as fuck but good and kind and earnest and determined, pushy and snarky but more often wielded for the benefit of others than for himself—not to mention persuasive with those puppy-dog eyes.

Because, like, fuck: all these years and Eddie’s still weak for those goddamn eyes.

He lets himself stare at Steve and just, take him in for a little while until Steve feels his gaze—doesn’t take long, they’re aware of each other as a default mods—and lifts those impossible eyes for Eddie to drown in and feel warm inside his veins when they light up for the smile Steve flashes his way.

Fuck, but Eddie loves him.

“When are you coming to visit, then?” Erica breaks the spell; licks her spoon clean before aiming it at them pointedly. They glance at each other—she kinda means the world to them, they’ve grown close with her especially once all the other kids skedaddled, and Eddie thinks he’s not…he’s not surprised, and he thinks he knew she’d want them to visit. He thinks Steve knew that, too.

But he knows, like he knows his own heartbeat and Steve’s even better: Eddie knows Steve feels just as warm and touched and like, fucking moved a little by how she treats it like a given.

“When do you want us there?” Steve asks and yeah, he’s smooth about it, composed and shit, but Eddie knows his voice inside-out and backward. He can hear the emotion stayed back underneath.

“When are you planning to move?”

They don’t even really pause at the way she knows without them saying; she’s the only person who hasn’t outright suggested they get the fuck out of Hawkins, finally. Kinda like they never had to say they were staying until all of their family was accounted for and on their way in the world, safe and sound and whole.

“Nothing’s in stone, yet,” Steve offers, poking Eddie’s foot under the table.

“But you’re looking,” Erica, again, already knows; doesn’t pose it as a question.

“Yeah,” Eddie smiles down at his sundae, and links his hand with Steve between them on the seat; “we’re thinking Chi-town,” because that’s been the front-runner for a while, now, of the cities they’ve considered. Because it doesn’t even have to be forever, they don’t have to commit to a place and never leave—because the only forever-thing in all of this, in anything, is them. Just Steve and Eddie, them two: together.

Wherever they end up.

“Mmm,” Erica considers before scooping another spoon of mostly-butterscotch swirl: “I can see that.”

“You can, can you?” Steve volleys with a smirk, and she lets him goad her into laying out how she knows them, how she sees them, because…it’s maybe strange but then maybe not but it’s always felt special, with her. Maybe because she’s grown up more than any of them, for Steve and Eddie to watch. Maybe because she’s so goddamn smart, that her observations come out near-unchallengable.

Maybe because they both know she loves them, and she knows they love her, and it’s never been…awkward, like it had been in spots with the shitheads over time. It was just understood.

“Big but not huge,” Erica ticks off the reasons for her assessment; “music scene’s decent,” she nods to Eddie, who nods back gracious; “good schools,” she leans to Steve, and yep, that was a huge factor, whether Steve could love his job; “liberal…ish,” she eyes them, and how close they sit, meaningfully before tacking on: “familiar weather.”

Steve huffs a little laugh and Eddie just beams at her: not a single thing wrong there. She’s got them dead to rights, and he kinda loves that about her; so much.

“Semester ends first week of December,” she focuses back on her bowl and speaks with authority, like whatever she’s proposing isn’t a suggestion, just a notice: “if you guys are still here,” she shakes the full spoon in her hand and raises an eyebrow: “I expect ice cream.”

Steve just nods as she pops the spoonful in her mouth whole-on.

“Scoops Troop for life,” he agrees and Eddie perks, always ready when that label pops up.

“Plus honorary trooper,” he chimes in, and Erika grins around her spoon a little as Steve leans close and can’t kiss him here, but Eddie knows well what it means to feel Steve’s breath against the line of his neck like he’s jest stretching past him, like it could be innocent as Steve murmurs low—

“Always.”

And can feel the heat rise in his cheeks, and the flutter in his chest, because…because he’s in love, goddamnit, and it’s been one of the most incredible surprises to learn that he can love so big, and get love so big back in kind, that the feeling never fades, he can always feel weightless and boneless and overwhelmed in the best of ways for just this man near to him, just the pitch of his voice and the promise of his breath on Eddie’s skin.

“You’re cute,” Erika says, the judgement in her tone tempered low as her lips still quirk; “and this is delicious,” she points her spoon again at the remaining ice cream and the tiny puddle it’s melting between the remaining scoops. “So I’ll allow it,” she nods to their pressed-together shoulders and goes back to eating, but never loses the tiny grin and he and Steve both know how much that means, from her.

“But if you’re already there,” she continues when she starts collecting the saucer bits at the base of the bowl: “Chicago’s a decent layover spot, probably,” she shrugs; “but still, here or there,” and she pauses with intention before narrowing her eyes with intention:

“Ice cream.”

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

divider credit here

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madrabit · 3 months

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Ooh you know I'm gonna take you up on this offer of more fantastic BoJan content! Could you please do one with a mix of 15 and 17 ? (A passionate kiss to distract from something) thank you <3

Yes! We need more BoJan (and I know you know that very well :3), there can never be enough of the two of them! And yes, ofc I can do that! I hope you enjoy it!

And for everyone else, feel free to also send me a prompt if you'd like to!

Send me a number and a ship and I'll write you a kiss! 🩷✨️

15. ... passionately + 17. ... to distract

The silence in the room was suffocating. It coated the space in a weird blanket, making every noise stand out and the ticking of the clock on the wall seemed awfully loud.

Jan was tense, his shoulders pulled up, hands clutching at each other, fiddling with a pick he had found in the pocket of his pants, while his jaw was clenched tightly. His breathing was strained, a frown permanently etched onto his face since they had entered the vet office and he was aware of the vibes he was giving off as he shifted on the uncomfortable plastic chair.

A few seats over a small dog barked, drawing Jan's attention with the high pitched sound and the woman holding the dog gave him an apologetic smile, while she shushed the animal. Jan didn't react, instead he let his eyes fly to the informational posters about how to calculate your pets age on the wall in front of him, over the little calendar next to it displaying pictures of kittens, puppies and other small animals and finally landing on a brochure about how to properly care for exotic pets.

"Are you alright, Janči?"

Bojan's voice was quiet, calm and incredibly warm that Jan couldn't help but look away from the picture of a gecko perched on a branch and meet the shorter man's soft brown eyes.

"Yes", he answered shortly, letting out air through his teeth. He flicked the pick, sliding it through his fingers and his leg started to bounce nervously as he threw a look at the clock, still loudly ticking away.

It had been barely five minutes since the nurse had taken Igor from him. He had watched, almost helplessly, as the young woman had carefully taken the pet carrier from his hands. Igor had been quiet, rolled up on Bojan's sweater that they had put in to keep him comfortable. Usually he would have put a fluffy blanket he had specifically bought in the box, but when he had found Igor laying on Bojan's discarded sweater, the cat hadn't wanted to move an inch and buried his claws in the fabric, still holding it in his little paws as Jan had picked him up. Bojan had let out a giggle and had just taken the sweater to lay it out in the transport box for Igor.

"It's okay, he's a brave little kitty", Bojan said softly, reaching for his hand and interlacing their fingers, immediately knowing what was making the taller man this upset. Jan looked down, seeing Bojan's smaller hand in his and while it might have helped usually, the feeling of worry just didn't fade and he was still tensed up.

"I hate that I'm not allowed to be inside with him", he said lowly, squeezing Bojan's hand maybe a bit too hard as the shorter man rubbed his thumb over his knuckles, not that his boyfriend complained.

Jan had felt his heart drop into his pants as he had seen Igor limp last night after coming back from one of his strolls outside, favouring his right hind leg as he hoppled through the living room. The cat didn't go roam the neighbourhood on his own often, preferring to stay inside and cuddle up with him and Bojan on the couch. Most of the time, Jan would go take a walk with him, giving him the space to explore, but still being there for Igor to return to if he felt unsafe.

The dog barked again, whining a bit and Bojan cooed softly at the pomeranian. Jan was sure that his boyfriend already would've asked if he could pet the dog if the older lady hadn't clutched the animal against her chest protectively.

"It'll be over soon and we'll get him back, he'll be fine", Bojan whispered, playing with the dark haired man's fingers.

"Usually I was allowed to come in with him...", Jan grumbled, his leg still bouncing as he looked through the otherwise empty waiting room again. Next to him, Bojan shifted, putting his head on Jan's shoulder. Soft, brown hair tickled his neck as the shorter nuzzled into his hoodie.

The vet was new, taking over the office of the previous doctor, who had retired. Jan had liked the old man a lot, trusted him to take care of Igor and wasn't bothered if he had to stay behind while his little furbaby got treated. But this guy was new. And Jan didn't trust him yet, didn't know if he was good at his job or not.

"They're taking an x-ray, Janči, I'd be surprised if they allowed you in there", Bojan mumbled, pulling Jan's hand into his lap to take it in both of his, giving a reassuring squeeze. Jan let out a huff, the frown deepening even more. He was tempted to pull away, wrap his arms around himself to hide the way he was still fiddling with the pick in his hands. But before he could think about it further, Bojan stood up abruptly, getting Jan onto his feet as well.

The smaller man didn't let go of him as he made his way out of the waiting room, not even as Jan asked him what he was doing. He didn't even answer, just walked over to the little bathroom, opened the door and pushed Jan inside, swiftly following his taller boyfriend into the room.

The click of the lock turning was all Jan could hear before lips attacked his, arms wrapping around his shoulders, a hand on the back of his head pulling him down into a kiss.

Jan let out a surprised little noise, his own hands almost instinctively coming to rest on Bojan's waist, even as he wanted to move away. The singer didn't let him, just pulled him closer as he deepened the kiss, letting his tongue dart out to trace Jan's bottom lip.

It took a few seconds for his brain to catch up, before he reciprocated the kiss, biting Bojan's tongue and letting it slide between his lips. He wrapped an arm around the younger's waist, pulling him closer and leaning even more into it, almost making Bojan bend over backwards as their tongues met.

Bojan moaned softly into the kiss, his hold loosened slightly as he melted against Jan, his hand dropping to the nape of Jan's neck, playing with the slightly shorter hair there. The touch made a shiver run down his back and he let one hand slide under the sweater his boyfriend was wearing, softly caressing the skin on the small of Bojan’s back.

He felt himself relax as the kiss turned messier, mind only focused on walking Bojan a few steps back, pressing the shorter man against the wall next to the sink. His hands slid down further, coming to rest on that plush ass he loved, when a muffled bark ripped him out of the thought.

"We shouldn't do this, what if they are done now", he said lowly as he pulled back, or rather, tried to pull back. Bojan cupped his cheek, turning his head back again to press feather light kisses to Jan's jaw, rubbing his nose over the dark beard, kissing his way up.

"Two minutes", the younger whispered against his lips, "just a little bit longer, yes?"

Bojan stared up at him, dark eyes hooded and soft, so soft that Jan wanted to melt from the warmth they radiated. Instead, he just leaned in again, bringing their lips together in another kiss that had them both gasping for air.

A few minutes later, they stumbled out of the bathroom, making their way back to the waiting room. The woman, still holding her dog, gave them a pointed look, staring at the little red blotch forming on Bojan's neck that the singer had tried to cover up with the collar of his sweater. Jan gave her another frown as they sat down, reaching for Bojan's hand. The scrunched up, sunshine smile he got in return made his nerves relax again.

They barely had to wait for another ten minutes, spending the time talking quietly, when the same nurse from earlier called for them.

"His leg is just sprained", the vet said as soon as they entered the room and Jan felt his body relax in relief, eyes immediately on Igor. The cat was laying on his side on the table, cleaning his front paws while his tail was swishing behind him, showing his discontent at the whole situation. The second he noticed Jan, he stopped, looking up at his human and gave a loud, clearly unhappy meow.

The vet laughed slightly while he looked over Igor's file, noting something down. "He's gonna be alright in a few weeks, but I wouldn't let him out in that time, we wouldn't want him to break a paw."

Jan nodded, stepping towards the table and leaning down to give his cat a little kiss on the head, right between his fluffy ears.

"He's very well mannered, so it went faster than we thought it would. You can go upfront to pay and then you're all done."

"Thanks", Jan said to the man, who just nodded and then walked to one of the doors to disappear into another room, most likely to get back to the lady with the dog.

"Do you want to take him?", Bojan asked as he picked up the transport box, but Jan just shook his head.

"I can't, i have to pay, you should cuddle him a bit, you know how he gets after a vet visit", he answered, taking the box from his boyfriend. Bojan just gave him a sweet smile as he scooped up the little furball in his arms, giggling softly as Igor immediately bumped his face against his chin and started purring.

"Sometimes I think he likes you more than me", Jan said with a grin, finally able to relax completely now that he knew everything was alright.

"No, he doesn't, I'm just the one who gives him treats all the time", Bojan laughed, turning to the door that Jan dutifully opened for him.

"And I think you deserve all the treats today, don't you, Igor?", Jan heard the shorter brunet coo as he made his way to the front desk, the pet carrier slung over his shoulder.

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aroacehanzawa · 1 year

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harusono shou is a special brand of evil for writing ssmy and hrkg in parallel but set in different times, and especially for writings chapters like the hirano in college extra that sheds absolutely no light on what is actually going on between him and kagiura, so the slow burn of hrkg still holds with no apparent end in sight even though the other parallel series is set in their future and should have the answers already

#also evil for making ssmy all fluff no angst pure sunshine and rainbows #and then you switch to reading kghr and it's a 100k neverending slowburn angst longing yearning with more emotional turmoil than #the entirety of ssmya's almost 50 chapters. and kghr has only been running for TWENTY CHAPTERS #sasamiya #sasaki to miyano #sasaki and miyano #kagihira #hirakagi #hirano to kagiura #hirano and kagiura

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strixhaven · 6 months

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it’s always so weird whenever i go from picking up my cat to picking up my dog. nymeria is just so light like he weighs nothing. then i go to pick up winter and i remember she’s got the density of a fucking neutron star

#she’s barely a foot tall at the shoulder but is 20 pounds of Pure muscle #you can’t really see it behind all her fluff but she’s fucking shredded man i’ve never seen such a small yet buff dog

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takearisk-x · 2 years

Text

there is no third

written for @hinnyfest prompt 1: First, I love you

The little bell above the door tinkled and a gust of frosty wind swept through Honeydukes until the door banged closed again. Not paying attention to the other shoppers crowded around, Harry leaned against a display of Cockroach Clusters and watched as Ginny perused the baking section.

In typical Ginny fashion, she had left her Christmas Shopping until the very last minute, which meant Harry was trailing along after her and fighting the horde of dawdlers who also refused to take advantage of Owl Orders. It wasn’t the worst way he’d spent a Saturday, but he could think of other, much more enjoyable, pastimes to participate in with his fiancée.

Especially since in two weeks she wouldn’t be his fiancée anymore. She’d be something altogether more important. Something infinitely significant and meaningful. Something sacred.

Warmth cracked open in his chest as he watched her let out an impatient huff and return a cellophane bag of instant melt caramels back to the shelf.

Wife.

Ginny was going to be his wife. Home, family, and endless contentment, all wrapped up in his favorite person in the world. Bonded to him for life.

Sometimes Harry had to pinch himself just for the reminder that it was real.

The distinctive click of a camera pulled his attention away from Ginny chewing on her bottom lip and to the other side of the shop. Harry clocked the room but didn’t immediately notice anyone acting suspicious until the third go around.

A middle-aged bloke stood half-hidden behind a rack of Liquorice Wands and conspicuously stared in their direction. When he noticed Harry, he ducked behind an older couple passing by and disappeared from sight.

“Do you think Mum would want Golden Syrup Drops?”

The bloke reappeared three aisles over, raising a camera in their direction and Harry swore under his breath

“Yeah,” Ginny hummed. “I didn’t think so either.”

Not bothering with an explanation, Harry grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the back of the store.

“What’re you-” she started but he yanked her down the rickety staircase and into the basement storeroom.

“It’s that Bogdan fellow,” Harry explained in a rush once they were out of sight. “The photographer working for Rita Skeeter.”

Ginny made a disgusted noise. “That’s the third time this month.”

“Are we sure she doesn’t know?” Harry said with a pointed look.

She shook her head. “If she did, she’d have published something already.”

Harry shrugged in agreement, shifting his palm and sliding his fingers between hers.

Narrowing her eyes, Ginny tilted her head in question. “So, what’s the plan here?”

Harry blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean are we living in the cellar now or...?”

“Oh,” he faltered. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

She sighed, her eyes falling shut. A nearly all-consuming urge to snog her senseless came over him.

“So instead of getting an innocent photo of us Christmas shopping,” Ginny spoke slowly as if she was explaining a particularly difficult subject to someone very dim. “He gets one of us sneaking out of the Honeydukes cellar?”

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He smiled ruefully instead.

“First,” Ginny remarked, her eyes sparkling with amusement in the dim light. “I love you.”

His smile stretched wider. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of hearing it.

“Second,” she continued, moving her hands to either side of his face. “You’re an idiot.”

Harry choked on a laugh. “And third?”

“There is no third,” Ginny pushed up onto her toes to give him a fleeting kiss. “I love you and you’re an idiot. It’s the tragedy of my life.”

He snorted then buried his face in the crook of her neck. “We could wait him out?”

A knowing giggle rippled through her. “He could be up there for ages...”

“Don’t worry,” Harry pressed the lightest of kisses to the skin beneath her ear. “I know how we can pass the time.”

#hinnyfest #hinny #jesus this was pure fluff #is this a tpfy epilogue???#sure why not #lets make all the hinnyfest prompts tpfy epilogues #the path from you #my fic

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giggly-squiggily · 1 day

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#Fc89ac (Cupid's Parasite)

Heyo! So...I might or might not be addicted to Cupid's Parasite...

Nah but really; Y'ALL! I've started playing it recently and my goodness Ryuki is the best! (Granted as of writing this I'll have likely finished the game if not most of it so it's up in the air on who'll truly be my favorite) His route was so fun and addictive and just- YESH! I wanted to write something for him and Lynette and that's exactly what I did lols. I hope you like it! :D

Summary: Ryuki's struggling with his latest design and what color to make it. Lynette helps through unconventional ways.

#fc8eac…#ffc1cc…#ff6ec7…

Lynette scrolled through her search history with a small laugh, shaking her head. Since she fell in love with the fashion designer, it seemed like this was all she ever looked up. Not that she minded it of course; she loved her boyfriend with her entire heart- even if she had to look up several of the colors he mentioned on a daily basis.

Recently it seemed he was stuck on the color pink- his sketchbook filled to the brim with various dresses and skirt designs with various notes and hexadecimals. Around one particular dress several of the numbers were crossed out and re-written, a sign this particular garment was driving Ryuki insane. “No, that’s not it…it’s too muted.”

Another hexadecimal. Lynette tapped it into her phone to find “Soft Pink”. It was lovely. “I like it. It’s pretty.”

“Yes, but it doesn’t really go with the theme of the outfit.” Ryuki scowled down at the paper, narrowing his eyes. “Everything’s either too muted or too bright- I need something in the middle.”

Rolling onto her stomach, Lynette used her arms as a pillow as she peeked at his work. Unsurprisingly, the dress was gorgeous- flowy and fun with a mix of both western and japanese elements incorporated. “Wow, it’s so beautiful!”

“You haven’t been truly wowed yet- wait until you see what it’ll look like in person.” A touch of pride entered Ryuki’s voice as he puffed, starting to smile. Then that smile dropped as he looked at his endless bouts of notes. “If we ever get there, that is.”

Not good. Lynette sat up and clapped her hands. “Break time! Maybe you need to step back and revisit it with some fresh eyes?”

Ryuki looked ready to argue, but he gave in with a sigh after meeting her raised brow. “Maybe.” Closing the sketchbook, he moved everything aside and gave a small stretch. “But just for five minutes- then I’m going right back i-EH!”

“Fifthteen minutes. I demand a proper break.” Lynette argued, poking him in the ribs. “We’re having green tea and snacks- maybe even a walk.” She poked him again and again, watching him twitch and scrunch beneath her finger. “We can hunt down a crepe stand. They’re usually out this time of year.”

“H-How is tha-ahat gonna gehet done in fi-fiihfthteen mi-inutes?” Ryuki yelped between jabs, grabbing at her wrists as he thought down giggles. “Stop thahat!”

“Well, we’ll just have to take as long as we need, won’t we?” She teased, bringing her other hand in when he refused to release her. Scooting closer, she quickly scribbled into his open side, making him yelp and fall backwards. “You’ve been working on your designs all morning. Five minutes away isn’t gonna be enough.”

“Ihiihiht’ll be pleaahhanty! Geahhaha, Lynaehehehehhette!” Ryuki didn’t have the strength to remain sitting up, crashing unceremoniously against the pillows as he batted at her hands. “Cuhuhhuhut it ohoohoohohut, I’m wohoohhoohrking!”

“Noooo!” She cried back in glee, giggling up a storm as she threw herself across his torso. Her fingers danced up and down his sides, kneading here and there to make him arch and yelp. “I’ll never stop! I’ll keep tickling you until you agree to take a break!”

“Thahahaht’s nohohohoht hahahappehehehening! Geahhahahaha!” Ryuki squeaked when her fingers dug into his highest ribs, making him arch within a sudden boost of mirth. “Dohohohohoohn’t nohohohohohohohohoo! Aheahahahahahha Lhihihihihihihiynehehehehehhehehette!”

“Oo, is this a bad spot?” She cooed at him, enjoying how pink his cheeks got. “It must be with how much you’re blushing! I could listen to you laugh all day long, cutie!”

“Shuhuhuhuht uuuhuhuhp! Iihihihi’m nohoohohohot cuhuuhuhuhte!” He argued through his laughter, trying his best to squeeze her hands out. “Thahahaht’s it- cohoohme here!” With a sudden burst of strength, he reached out and grabbed onto Lynette, flipping their positions. “Now you get what’s com-ehehehehe, nohohohoho!”

“Huh? What was that? What do I get?” She teased, wasting no time as she grabbed at his ribs once more. “You gotta move faster than this, Ryuki-kun! Hehehe!”

Unfortunately for her, Lynette’s reign of mischief was quickly ended.

“AH! Aheahhahahahha nohohoohohohoho!” She squealed when Ryuki managed to grab her side, squeezing rapidly. “Nohohoohoho fahahahhair, nohoohoho fahahhair yohoohohu son of ahahah-”

“Goohoht you nohohow, yoohohu-GAH DOHOOHN’T!”

“TAHHAKE THAHAHT!”

“BRIIHIHINHG IT OHOHON!”

Their “battle” continued on as they rolled around in the bed, sheets crinkling and pillows flying as they grabbed and prodded at any and every tickle spot they could find on eachother. By the end of it all, they were gasping for air, cheeks flushed and hair a mess as they laid side by side in their messy bedding.

“Sohoohoho who wohohohn?” Lynette gasped out, hair falling free from its braid like a halo of sakura blossoms. Ryuki reached out, brushing her bangs back with the gentlest of touches.

“Mehehehe, obvihihihously.” He snorted, making her smile. She was especially radiant today- her natural hue the softest of pinks. It reminded him of…

“#fc89ac.” He mused out loud, then blinked. “That’s it-”

Lynette watched him sit up, scrambling for his sketchbook. While he did so, she quietly pulled out her phone, searching up the number.

Tickle me pink. She barely stifled a laugh as the coincidence of it all.

“Yep, that’s it. That’s exactly what shade I was looking for.” Ryuki nodded, something relaxed entering his expression as he circled the hexadecimal with pride. “You’re truly brilliant. Thanks for all your help, Lynette.”

“Aww, you’re too sweet.” She giggled as she sat up, tucking her phone away. “Can I have a crepe as my reward? That tickle fight made me hungry.”

Ryuki blinked before bursting into laughter, unable to hide his amused smile. “You’re too cute! God- I love you so much.”

She’s heard him say it before so many times now, and the effect was still all the same. Her cheeks warmed and her heart raced at the words, making her entire being feel soft and tingly. “I love you too.”

The crepes they got soon after were extra tasty.

Thanks for reading!

#cupid parasite #tickle #tickle fic #ryuki f keisaiin #Lynette mirror #fluff #squiggily's self indulgent era #pardon all the visual novel fics lately I've just been having so much fun ajrkejarkjeajkre #Ryuki reminds me of Chigiri so much akrekarjkearkj #Just- pure glamour with such a fun character to back #Ryuki is kind of bitchy though (affectionate)#but so is Chigiri (affectionate) so it's fine lols #y'all its so dang good Cupid Parasite I recommend!#thank you for indulging me with all these visual novels as of late lolololol

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fangirlforeversthings · 6 days

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About star wars children and cool found stones

So kids always tend to bring you cool stones they found and gift them to you and i imagine the jedi masters having collections of stones from all sizes and colors the younglings and their padawans found and gifted to them when they were childs. And they constantly brag to each other how their collection grew and who has the most stones.

And we all know that the younglings love mace, obi wan and plo the most so they are the ones who needed a whole box at some point to storage all their gifted stones (like of course they keep them especially mace is very proud of his collection and plo tends to cry of sentimentality whenever he gets a new one**)

And obi wan has two boxes because he needs one alone for all the stones anakin gifted him. And now that he is adult obi wan sometimes looks at the stones like a father at babyfotos of his child, sentimental at how smol and cute he was and how fast he grew.

*Edit

Plo is the mom when it comes to younglings. Taking care of their wounds and patching up their scratches with band aids (probably baby bantha patterns all over them) and always has snacks for them in his robe pockets and carries them everywhere and they always run up to him for the case they are hungry or when they have a scratch like: "masda bloo look i have an owie"

Mace is the best at playing with the kids. Letting them ride on his back with him crawling along the temple halls on all fours and giggling childs yelling faster mister fluffers (he plays a bantha and has to do the noises aswell). Or playing hide and seek with them and he playfully yells "haaa" whenever he finds one and the younglings screeching and then giggling of joy being heard all around the temple.

Obi is the best for relaxing and slow moments. Like telling tales from his many adventures and they listen carefully. Or telling them goodnight tales. All huddled up around him like his little sheep. Two on his lap, one on each leg and for each arm. (They always fight for who gets to sit on his lap) Some snuggling up at both of his sides. Some sitting on the floor on the piles of blankets and pillows close by his feet. And some in his back leaning against it or piggyback snuggling. They are huddled up together and packed up like burritos in many pillow piles and blankets. And they love to hide in his big robe and cover themselfs up with it or playing with his long hair or his soft beard. And he talks in the softest voice imaginable making them fall asleep fast. He is about one of the only masters in the temple to get them to rest for a slow moment, plo is the other.

**bonus** the wolfpack found out about plo's stone collection and keep on gifting him rocks now. He has the prettiest collection now of gifted rocks from his men. (They collect pretty or rare ones and paint silly stuff like wolf snoots on them and he freaking loves them).

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atombonniebaby · 5 months

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I've had this idea in my head for a while now...

We all know how much Mac hates getting wet so how would he react when faced with the prospect of a "new" New Year's tradition introduced by his Scottish boss?

The original plan was screenshots, but I had to do a write up!...so maybe today I'll get some proper visuals...but for now I hope you enjoy this silly one shot! (And if anyone wants to do some drawings...I'd love to see some of this hilarity brought to life 🫶)

just so we're clear...Deacon's swimsuit depicted below is 100% what I Invision them all wearing variations off...because...why not? 🤣 (Oh...but not Hancock and Danse...you'll see!)

Happy New Year Tumblr Buddies! Slainte Mhath!❤️

Here's to new Wasteland Traditions

"You can't be serious..." MacCready searched the boss' face. Shit-eating grin aside, there was not a single sign of a lie.

"I'm tellin' ye lad... every year without fail... rain or shine." Nate sat down on the couch beside his young companion. "Sometimes even snow." He added after a brief pause.

"So you're telling me you dressed up and—”

"Dressing up was optional... traditionally ye just shed to yer kegs and run right in."

"Run into water?"

"Cauld, sobering, icy waters."

"I guess you Scots really are crazy," MacCready chuckled to himself, "or you're full of Brahmin crap."

"Oi," Nate elbowed him. "It's real. On the day o' the new year, we'd head tae the shore, and strip to our undergarments and bolt intae the sea. 'Tis invigoratin', got the blood pumpin' in a way nothing else did. I dinnae even reckon bein' chased by a Deathclaw could get me heart goin' as fast as that did."

MacCready laughed at the mention of the oversized lizard. "Running from a deathclaw is different. You know you'll die if you lose, running into the ocean is just stupid."

"Hypothermia is nae joke, lad... and it didnae need to be an ocean... could be a river... ye know... like that one that runs aroon' Sanctuary..."

There was something in the way the Scot was talking that made MacCready nervous. That sparkle in his eye was never a good sign. "Not on your life!”

Nate's grin only grew wider. "Oh c'mon! Ye'd be the only one bein' a wee rad-chicken! Preston, Sturges, Codsworth, the settlers around Sanctuary…and even Dugmeat all want tae do it."

"Right... and Dogmeat told you that how, exactly? Did he write it out on the dirt using a stick?"

Nate gave a belly laugh at that. "Gave me a paw."

"You are full of it." MacCready shook his head. "No way in hell am I doing this."

"No even for five hundred caps?”

"Five hundr--" MacCready choked on his words.

"Counted them maself... put them in a nice big jar ...but there is a catch... last man standin' ...or lady... gets it!"

MacCready groaned. This was stupid, beyond stupid, but the caps..."Fine."

"Attaboy!”

Sanctuary Hills Annual Loony Dook.

MacCready stared at the painted ply board sign as if it was personally insulting him. Perhaps it was. If it hadn't existed, he wouldn't have been standing out in the rain.

He glanced at the plastic blue pins of Rad-X piled up in the little shed next to the sign, blankets too. Nate was prepared for everything.

MacCready's laugh was almost incredulous. "Is that why you've been hoarding all the supplies!? Because you were planning this stupid event!?"

Nate laughed in response. "Notice that did ye?"

MacCready sighed. "How can I not notice!?"

"I hardly want folks getting sick from radiation poisoning while they're havin' fun. Now, c'mon, come help me welcome our guests," Nate elbowed him in the ribs before gesturing to the rest of Sanctuary.

"Fine!”

"Let's get the show on the road," Nate smiled, marching off toward the gates where the majority of the settlers were gathered.

"Hey, Blue!” Piper called out to them as they approached.

"Ah, monsieur! It is quite the spectacle you are throwing here today," Curie said as the two came to a stop. "I must say, I am rather excited to try this 'dooken' as you call it. The effects of immersion in such cold temperatures will be most fascinating!"

"Ye'll love it, lass," Nate replied.

"Where the Frick did you get bathing suits?" MacCready asked her, noticing the bright pink ruffled one piece she was wearing.

"As it turns out," Piper began. "Curie has a remarkable sewing ability...she even made something for you..."

"You made me something...?"

MacCready would have blushed if it weren't for how cold he was, the likelihood of any color filling his cheeks was slim to none–even with all his layers!

Curie nodded enthusiastically. "Wi, Monsieur Nate provided me with a list of attendees!"

He did what?

"Here you go!" She handed him a bundle of striped green and white fabric.

"Thanks... I think." MacCready looked at it skeptically. It was a one-piece suit of sorts. Not unlike what the girl was wearing, but with longer legs.

"Deacon's is blue and white, Preston also, but different shades! They look most handsome!"

"Why thank you, ma'am," Deacon appeared behind the doctor. "I think you look very dashing yourself."

"Merci!"

He looked ridiculous, a similarly striped suit to the one in MacCready’s hands, he guessed the red cape was his own addition.

"This IS most invigorating," followed another voice, this time belonging to a smiling tin can.

"Danse...lad..." Nate paused. "Do ye no think that's cheatin', son?"

The ex-Brotherhood Paladin just shrugged. "On the contrary, General. Without the appropriate protective clothing, my Power Armor provides no protection from the elements."

"Without protective—are you telling me you're in your birthday suit under there!?" MacCready blurted out.

Danse simply nodded. "Affirmative."

"General, your friend from Concord has arrived...and he brought company," Preston joined the fold, Minutemen blue in his bathing suit, and still wearing his hat.

"Jacob is here!?" Nate sounded more excited than he intended.

The group glanced at each other.

"Who's Jacob?" Piper asked after him.

Nate just waved her off.

"Does our good General have a secret to share?" A gravelly voice asked from behind them.

"John," MacCready turned to face the ghoul and he couldn't help it. His eyes dropped lower.

What the actual fuck!? Could that even be considered clothes? Red leather Speedo, cowboy boots and his signature hat...that was all he was wearing.

"My eyes are up here, kid," Hancock grinned as the younger man realized what he was doing.

"Wha--I wasn't—"

"You were," Hancock's smile turned into a smirk.

"Well ain't this quite the gatherin' and you thought people would pass up the opportunity for tradition!" Another accent entered their midst.

"I'm only here for the caps...got my eye on a new mod for my rifle," another familiar face pushed through the throng of bodies.

"Aiden's here too?" MacCready muttered under his breath. The ex-minuteman Gunner hunter didn't seem to know where to look as he came to a stop.

"Gotta say, Slick, you got a lotta people who care about ya," Jake leaned against the wooden railings of the bridge.

"Well, ain't you a handsome one!"

MacCready's smile widened. Cait!?

"Uh...thanks..." Aiden mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I uh...I'm just gonna..."

"Don't take it personally, darlin'," Jake smiled. "Aiden's not much for conversation."

"Who else are we expecting, Monsieur?” Curie asked.

"Nick's around, he's keepin' Dugmeat busy so folks can get ready and I do believe Strong is off huntin' fer our supper," Nate answered.

"Splendid! Would your boyfriend like a costume, Monsieur?”

"Boyfriend!? I—"

Nate cleared his throat.

"Thank ya, darlin'," Jake smiled at the doctor. "Much appreciated."

"Hey, Sharpshooter!"

MacCready froze. No...fuck no...he didn't hear that. He refused to turn around and look.

"Mac?"

No.

"MacCready!"

"Beau..." the mercenary reluctantly turned.

Fuck! Sturges was wearing one of those swimsuits too, and the size of him. It was...indecent.

"Howdy," Sturges tipped his head and smiled.

MacCready was dead, dying, or just having some incredibly vivid hallucination. No way. Just fucking no.

"What's wrong?"

"I'd harbor a guess our Merc here is wondering how you can fix his plumbing," Hancock chimed in.

"I—"

"Think he's wondering if your equipment is up to the task," Deacon added.

"That is most absurd," Curie commented. "Sturges is a mechanic, not a plumber."

"A certified handyman," Piper giggled.

"Shut the fu—uh heck up!"

Hancock snorted.

"That's enough...quit teasin' the poor lad." Jake stepped in to defend him.

"Yeah, lay off the kid." Nick Valentine decided to join them, standing by Nate's side, no swimsuit for him...it was almost like he was programmed to wear nothing but his detective gear. "You know how sensitive he is."

MacCready felt like he was about to spontaneously combust.

"I'm gonna go change before I get the urge to shoot someone." MacCready stormed off.

"Someone's touchy," Cait noted.

"More like he can't handle the heat," Hancock countered.

"You should probably change as well," Nick suggested to the newcomer. Knew the fella from all the times he stopped by that information broker who had taken up residence in Diamond City. "The Ron"? Or something like that.

"Right you are, Mister Valentine," Jake agreed. "I will be right back."

"So polite! Monsieur Jacob makes a most agreeable guest," Curie smiled.

"I know, right! He's a peach." Piper grinned. "Got yourself a good one there, Blue."

"No foolin' you lot, is there?” Nate just laughed. "C'mon, we might as well get a move on. It's comin' up to noon soon."

MacCready stood in front of the bathroom mirror. It took him a few minutes to figure out how to put the damned thing on. It was too tight in some places, yet hung awkwardly from his body.

At least his hat matched, because it was staying on.

A knock on the door snapped him out of his thoughts.

"You got lost in there?” Jake's voice carried through the wooden door.

"Just give me a second!"

"Alrighty..."

A few deep breaths, and MacCready was good to go.

"Not a word...not a single freaking word!"

Jake held his hands up and took a step back. "Wouldn't dream of it."

MacCready stomped past the engineer and back towards the group.

"Christ, and I thought I was pasty... lookin' at ye, it's like a white sheet slapped 'er a skeleton."

MacCready glared daggers at the smug looking bastard and wished he had his rifle. How is this bastard not shivering? MacCready could barely keep himself from trembling, and he's standing there, barefoot with no shirt on. Only thing he has on is a pair of red plaid trunks and his glasses.

"Har har... can we get this over with already?"

Nate grinned from ear to ear. "Ye sound like ye don't wanna do this."

"Oh? What gave it away?" MacCready crossed his arms across his chest, the cool air and heavy rainfall chilling his skin.

"All the shivering, mate," Nate gestured to him. "Ye need to move...maybe jog on the spot...keep the blood pumpin'...else ye won't make it tae the end."

MacCready growled at him. "Can you stop patronizing me and just start the damn thing already!?”

Nate looked around the group, taking stock of each person involved. There was a gathering now, a relatively small crowd, but the amount of people willing to participate was surprising.

"Sir..."

Nate near on jumped out of his skin. "Where the blasted hell did you come from!?"

X6-88 lowered his sunglasses and blinked at him. "I arrived via relay at 1200 hours, sir. I was ensuring the young sir was adequately prepared for the festivities."

"Dad?” Shaun emerged from behind the courser.

"Shaun?" Nate was utterly confused. "What are you doing here?"

"Father heard you were hosting an event and thought I should attend," Shaun smiled.

The sight of him. Pajamas, Welly boots and a rain hat, standing beside X6-88 in his ...everything black bathing suit. MacCready's sides ached. He was laughing, unable to control the burst of hysteria that bubbled within him.

"Escaped synths will be shaking in their boots," MacCready managed to wheeze out.

"I believe Ms Curie has made an adequate fit for me... sir," X6-88 said in reply.

It was the boots, the damned combat boots! MacCready laughed louder.

"I do not believe you are in a position to be mocking me, Sir. If my calculations are correct, you have a higher chance of being affected by hypothermia due to your lack of body fat and muscle mass. Perhaps you should reconsider abstaining from the use of cigarettes and alcohol, it would improve your health immeasurably."

MacCready stopped laughing. "Did you just..."

"I believe the term is 'kicking while he's down,' sir."

"A'right...enough eh that." Nate stepped in.

If MacCready didn't know better, he'd have thought the courser was smirking at him from beneath those glasses.

"First things first," Nate opened the shed. "Take a couple rad-x tabs each...Codsworth is gonnae countdown from ten and ring the bell...when he does, ye run in. Simple as that. The last person out wins the prize. We've got fires burning, food grilling and booze on tap...so enjoy yerselves, aye?"

MacCready pulled his cap lower over his brow. This was going to suck.

"Let the games begin," Hancock shouted.

"Okay!" Nate announced. "Everyone in their positions. Codsworth, get ready to count us down, son!"

"As you wish Master Nate!" The Mr. Handy spun in place.

MacCready rolled his shoulders, trying to get the stiffness out of them. He could do this. He had to win. Five hundred caps were on the line.

The merc watched the crowd gather around the water's edge, everyone ready to make a break for it as soon as the robot started counting.

"Are we ready to commence the New Year's celebrations, sir?"

"Aye Codsworth." Nate smiled.

"Very good, sir. I shall begin the countdown now…Ten!"

This was it.

"Nine!"

MacCready bent his knees, ready to sprint.

"Eight!"

A quick glance left and right, and he noticed all the other competitors were doing the same.

"Seven!"

His eyes locked with Nate's, and the bastard winked at him.

"Six!"

Was he planning something?

"Five!"

The sniper shook his head.

"Four!"

He could beat Nate. He's hardy...grew up in a cave!

"Three!"

Focus, Robert. Just focus.

"Two!"

He was doing this for Duncan.

"Happy New Year, everyone! GO!!!”

He couldn't do this.

MacCready darted in the opposite direction as the rest of them.

"Ye wee bastard!" Nate shouted after him.

Fuck you, old man! He was out of there.

"Not on ma watch, laddie," Nate's footsteps pounded after him.

Shit, shit, shit.

"Stay the heck away from me!”

"Och, quit bein' such a rad-chicken!" Nate sped up.

MacCready's heart was racing, and he wasn't sure if it was from running or the adrenaline pumping through his veins. Either way, he needed to outrun the bastard.

"Ye're slowin' down!"

"Like hell I am!" MacCready shouted back at him.

Suddenly, there were arms wrapped around him.

"Got ye! Now intae the drink we go!" Nate lifted him off the ground and over his shoulders.

MacCready struggled in vain. "Put me down!"

"Not a chance! Ye're goan in!”

The world moved in slow motion. He could see Nate's feet running over the grass and dirt as he neared the water's edge. People were cheering, and dogs were barking.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!"

Nate dove forward, releasing his grip on the merc, and they plunged into the icy cold waters below.

For a moment, MacCready floated through the murky depths. Then, he kicked upwards, breaking the surface of the water with a gasp.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Duncan forgive him! MacCready flailed as the frigid temperature of the water hit him. "It's freezing!"

"Aye, it's a wee bit nippy," Nate said calmly, swimming beside him. "Just breathe...in and oot."

"Breathe!?" MacCready screamed at him. "I'd rather—holy shi--"

"See, now ye're gettin' it," the older man was grinning like a madman.

"I'm going to kill you!"

"No if ye freeze...flap yer haunds aboot a bit..."

"C'mon, Mac! Dad knows what he's talking about!” Shaun called from the bankside.

"Your father is insane!" MacCready pointed at the boy.

"Our father!" Shaun smiled and gave him a double thumbs up.

What?

"Get it together, son!" Nate splashed water in his face. "Ye can do this."

MacCready growled and splashed him back. "I hate you."

Nate laughed. "C'mon...I can tell ye're getting used to it."

"I hate you so much," he swung his arms forward, moving them through the water.

"Nah, ye don't...if ye did, ye wouldn't be here now," Nate swam close to him. "It's just water...it cannae hurt ye."

MacCready glared at him. "I'm not..."

"Course not...yer the toughest son of a bitch I know..."

"Tougher than you?"

Nate's grin grew wider. "Guess we'll see."

"Bring it on, Old Man," MacCready's shivering subsided as he kept moving.

"Enough eh the "old" talk..."

"You're over 200...that's old..."

"That doesny count..."

"Says who?"

"Says me!" Nate ducked under the water, and MacCready braced himself for the inevitable.

A sudden tug on his foot, and the merc dropped beneath the surface. The shock of cold hit him once more, and he clawed his way to the top.

Nate surfaced and shook his head like a dog, somehow the glasses on his fat head still stayed on.

"Fun, ain't it?"

"How are you not frozen?" MacCready was panting now.

"Been dookin' since I was a wee lad," Nate answered. "The cauld...it's in ma blood."

MacCready cursed under his breath. "Sure, whatever you say."

Nate just laughed in response. "Another one down..."

"Huh?"

"Seems Piper's given up."

MacCready glanced around. Sure enough, the reporter was making her way back to shore.

"She's smart," the merc remarked.

"Ye did good, lass!” Nate shouted after her.

"Thanks, Blue," she waved before wrapping herself in the towel Codsworth had waiting for her.

"Woo...goddang I can't feel my digits!" Jake's voice cut through the chill in the air.

"Here's hoping your tongue is next..." Aiden drawled.

MacCready chuckled at the snide remark.

"Ma chère, this is most invigorating!" Curie was just... standing there in the water.

"That's one way of putting it," Piper pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders.

"I can't...I'm out...ye are all mad!” Cait finally relented.

"I have to agree with you," Preston shivered, retreating.

"As long as I outlast the Brotherhood's cheer squad...I'm a winner..." Deacon chittered next to Danse.

"My training has prepared me to withstand all manner of conditions...you should consider admitting defeat while you still can."

"Nah-uh, Tin Can," the spy retorted. "I once disguised myself as a snowman for six hours...wait till you hear where I placed the carrot..."

Danse just grunted at him.

"This is a rush!" Hancock stretched his arms above his head.

"You say that until your bits fall off," MacCready jested.

"How do you know mine haven't already?" Hancock teased him back.

"Ugh...why the hell am I here..." Aiden grumbled.

"Because Slick asked us to be...so quit your complainin'..." Jake answered.

"Ye alright, sweetheart?"

MacCready nearly swallowed a mouthful of water when he heard that. Sturges was staring right at him.

"I'm fi--fine!" he stammered.

"Yer shakin' like a leaf," the mechanic continued, sweeping back his wet hair.

"I'm just...cold...nothing I can't handle," the merc replied, trying not to stare.

"Well good luck to ya...I need a beer." Sturges swam past him, heading toward the bank.

"I'm with him on that one," Aiden followed.

MacCready gazed longingly at the shoreline. It was tempting. He could just give up now.

Nate smirked at him. "Don't ye dare..."

"I wasn't..." the merc lied.

"Sure ye weren't–”

"It appears something has entered my armor! I appear to have been compromised!" Danse's booming voice rang through the air.

"Nothin' in this water but us, big guy," Hancock called out.

"I can assure you, I am not mistaken! There is something alive inside my suit!"

The spy swam closer to him. "Maybe it's a bloatfly larvae...they like to burrow in wet organic materials..."

Danse froze. "What?"

Deacon tried not to laugh.

"I must terminate this creature immediately!" Danse was starting to panic.

"I shall accompany Monsieur Danse in his endeavor," Curie volunteered.

"I'm out...I'm not missing this! Thanks for the swim, guys." And with that, Deacon climbed out of the water.

"Fascinating...perhaps I should join them," X6-88 followed suit.

"I ain't missing this... Tapping out," Hancock was next.

And then there were three.

"How're ye feelin'?”

"Fine..." MacCready answered.

"Naw really, how are ye feelin'?" Nate asked again.

"I feel...alive," the merc admitted.

"Ye still cold?"

"Too numb to tell..."

Nate let out a belly laugh at that. "That's the spirit."

"Slick?" Jake was shivering now. "I think I'm at my limit."

"Aye...let's get ye warmed up and some scran in ye," Nate agreed.

MacCready watched them climb out of the water. Nate gathered up a blanket from Codsworth and slung it over the pair of them.

"Ye coming, lad? Or do I need tae send Strong in tae get ye?"

MacCready watched them for a moment, Nate's arm resting protectively around the engineer's waist as they walked back toward the common area.

He...he won?

"Yeah...I'm coming..."

"Well done Master MacCready! A stupendous display!” Codsworth greeted him as he clambered out of the lake.

"Thanks, Codsworth," MacCready replied.

The Mr. Handy draped the blanket over his shoulders. "Come now, you must be famished after all that excitement."

"I'm starving..."

Nate rested his head on Jacob's shoulder, fresh clothes and a warm fire and an assortment of familiar faces, it was the perfect way to spend New Years.

"I hope everyone enjoyed themselves today," he said softly.

"You know I did, Blue," Piper replied as she sipped her hot chocolate.

"Me too!" Shaun sat cross-legged on the floor with Dogmeat's head in his lap. "This place is pretty great!”

"Indeed sir," X6-88 agreed. "The festivities were quite enjoyable."

"Oh it was most enjoyable indeed, Monsieur! Perhaps we could participate in this 'dooken' again next year." Curie leaned into Cait's side.

"Ye can count me in!" Cait kissed her on the forehead.

"What are you gonna call him?” Hancock asked, his chin propped up by his hand.

"Call who?" Nate frowned.

"His Stowaway," the ghoul said, nodding to the bundle in Danse's arms.

"My desire is to call him Cutler...but I fear I may not be able to adequately tame him..."

"Cutler is a fine name for a Mirelurk," Preston reassured him.

'I think so too," Hancock agreed.

"This is fascinating. I have never observed a juvenile hatchling in this state before," Curie commented as she peered over Danse's arm. "He is so well behaved!"

"These creatures are normally quite aggressive...but this one...I find it...endearing." Danse admitted.

"I know that feeling," Hancock smirked.

MacCready shifted in Beau's embrace, stretching his legs out in front of him before settling into the comfortable warmth surrounding him.

"Happy New Year," he yawned.

"Happy New Year," Sturges echoed, pulling him closer.

An array of voices replied with similar sentiments.

It made Nate proud. Somehow in the midst of chaos, they found each other, and despite the differences they once shared, the prejudices they had held, he brought them together. He only hoped it would be enough to see them through whatever the Wastes would throw at them next.

Nate leaned over and kissed Jake on the cheek. "Welcome tae the family."

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