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wardenparker · 11 months

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Mother Knows Best

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 17.5k Warnings: Food/alcohol, meddling mama, cursing, reader is an unapologetic nerd, flirting with books, BDSM mention (but no portrayal), vagina sex, protected sex (wrap it before you tap it), praise and a little dirty talk. Summary: Marcus Pike's mother has a tendency to overstep a little. While she means well, any time she has ever tried to set him up it has always turned out terribly. This time, though, she's pretty sure she has it right when she arranges for Marcus to go on a blind date with the youngest member of her book club. Notes: This all kind of sprang out of a TikTok I found about a bookshop date idea. And I'm not sorry about it in the least. Also, subtle shout out to my brother-in-law's band is buried in conversation 🎶

"Marcus sweetie, what are you doing on Saturday?" Donna Pike is pulling weeds in her garden with her younger son in a lounge chair nearby, and she tries to make the question as nonchalant as possible. It's Sunday now and she might as well be asking what he wants for dinner. Although her idea of what he might be doing for dinner on the night in question is almost definitely different than whatever Marcus might have in mind. He has been back in Washington D.C. for almost four months and has spent the whole time sulking – something that no mother likes to see.

Marcus is probably more relaxed than he's been in a few months. Finally deciding that he is better off without Teresa since she would rather be with someone else more than him. His eyes half closed as he holds his beer, he answers without even thinking about it. Or why giving his mother an empty day without plans wasn't a good idea. "Nothing." He hums, smiling slightly at the thought of not having any work or responsibilities.

"Oh?" Donna smirks, glancing over her shoulder to see Marcus has his eyes shut as he sits in the sun. "No dinner plans? Drinks with coworkers?" She asks carefully, keeping her tone breezy as she weeds the tomato bed.

"Not a damn thing." He admits again, not seeing the smirk on his mother's face, otherwise alarm bells would be sounding in his head. Instead, he's plotting what he will do with his day off. Hopefully sleeping until ten is the first thing on the list. Then he might take a book out to the Mall lawn and read in the sun. Pick up one of those touristy drinks to sip on as he does.

"So..." Training one eye on him as she pulls another weed up from the root, Donna's lip curls into a smile. "You would be free for dinner, then?"

"You want me to take you to dinner?" Marcus's father passed nearly eight years ago and when he could, he would take his mother out to a nice dinner. Making sure that she felt special. "Sure."

"Not exactly what I had in mind, sweetie." Donna is all-out grinning at this point, and maybe even a little evilly. "Do you remember my telling you about a new girl joining our book club? She works with Marjorie Klein at the Library of Congress?" Every time Marjorie talked about her new colleague it seemed like the younger woman would be a perfect fit for their group, so six months ago they had offered up the empty spot at their table. Now, every time Donna Pike sees or hears from you, she seems to become more and more convinced that you would be perfect for her youngest child.

"Mom...no." Marcus shakes his head and immediately drowns the rest of his beer bottle and desperately wishes another would appear. "No, no, you aren't setting me up, again."

"But Marcus she's such a good match!" She won't say 'perfect' because that will make Marcus revolt and probably run away screaming. But she has such a good feeling about this one. "And I might have already scheduled the date with her..." Might is such an innocent lie. She definitely already scheduled the blind date with you after giving you a few background details on her baby boy.

“Mooooooooooom.” The sigh Marcus gives is one of extreme frustration. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but no. I can get my own dates.” The truth was, his mother had horrible taste in choosing women that she thought Marcus would be interested in.

"Oh yeah?" Donna tucks her proverbial tongue securely in her cheek. "Is that why you've been hanging around your old Ma's house so much the last few months? Because you're so good at getting your own dates?" She tilts her head at him and waves one hand, dismissing the tease immediately. "She's sweet, Marcus. And so smart. You don't have to marry the girl, but it's hard to get back out there sometimes. Just...give it a try?"

“It’s— I just got out of that thing with Teresa, Ma.” He reminds her and notices the expectant look on his mother’s face. She’s well meaning, really she is, but god does she meddle. “You already told her I would go out with her, didn’t you?”

“The thing with Teresa was months ago.” Donna’s grin spreads like wildfire. “She’s a nice girl and I called in a favor to get you a table at Founding Farmer’s because I know you like to keep the first date kind of casual.” Something she considers a mistake, but she knew that if she had gone and made a reservation somewhere more upscale then Marcus would squawk.

“Jesus Christ.” Marcus groans, slapping his hand over his face and imagining how boring and completely incompatible this woman is for his mother to talk about how nice and sweet she is. All the other girls she has tried to hook Marcus up with since he was a teenager have been a train wreck. “What time?” He sighs, resigned to his Saturday being ruined.

“Seven-thirty.” Crows his mother, who definitely made sure that the reservation was early enough in the night that they could do something else afterward. “I really think you’re going to like her, sweetie.”

He thinks he’ll be wasting an hour of his life but he grunts in response, already dreading Saturday.

******

You’re probably taking this far too seriously, all things considered. The book club of mostly middle-aged and older ladies that you had been offered a place in by one of your coworkers has been really nice. Everybody sits around and drinks and gossips about the book characters like they’re real people, and there is always good food. You like the ladies in the book club, you really do. But this whole idea of a blind date with Donna Pike’s son has you nervous for some reason.

Blind dates don’t typically go well for you but you’re honestly kind of desperate. It’s been nearly a year since your last date that even qualifies as mediocre and at this point you would say yes to just about anyone halfway decent. And with that in mind, you kiss your cat goodbye and smooth one hand down your floral sundress before slinging on your leather jacket to keep out the autumnal chill. If nothing else, maybe you’ll have a nice meal tonight.

Marcus sighs as he checks his reflection in the mirror one more time. He had opted to leave the suit at home, but couldn’t dress down completely casual. The restaurant that his mom had chosen would be nice enough that slacks, a polo and a sports coat wouldn’t look too out of place. Despite his reservations, he is wanting to make an effort. He sniffs his cologne to make sure he didn’t douse himself and picks up his keys. Off to see what a nightmare this would be, although he hopes that this girl won’t throw a glass of wine in his face when he reveals he’s a federal agent.

Founding Farmer’s is bustling when you arrive, packed to the gills and you wonder if the younger Pike brother thought to make reservations. For now you adjust the (admittedly cheesy) flower in your jacket lapel and slide over to the bar to order a cocktail. If he stands you up, you at least want to have a drink in hand to soothe the embarrassment.

There had been a fierce internal debate on if he should stop outside the little flower stand that was just a block down from the restaurant to buy some flowers. Romantic Marcus would do it, and even though he had not asked this girl out, she deserves the niceties that had been bred into him after watching his father continuously court his mother through their marriage. When he enters the door of the Founding Farmer's, he can see why he had to park two blocks away and is grateful that his mother had made reservations. "I— I have a reservation. Marcus Pike." He tells the frazzled hostess. "But I'm waiting for someone...." He cranes his neck to look around, not sure exactly who he is looking for. His mother had been very vague with the physical description, which doesn't help on a blind date.

You hear him before you see him — sitting just a few feet behind the hostess stand is strategic, and you hear him give his name. The most careful sneak of a peak nearly has your jaw on the ground and you sit straight up again immediately. He’s gorgeous. Absolutely drop-dead movie star level gorgeous. And he’s carrying flowers identical to the one tucked into your jacket, making you smile unexpectedly. “Marcus?” You turn slowly on your stool, hoping you’re not about to make an idiot of yourself.

He hears his name and looks around again, his eyes searching until they fall on a lovely looking woman wearing a pretty sundress and jacket. A flower in her lapel in a move that immediately makes him grin at the old-style charm of the gesture. He nods and says the name his mother gave him, finding himself hoping that you are that person.

“That’s me.” Sliding off of your stool with your glass in hand, you put out your other hand to him and smile. His mother absolutely failed to mention that her son is an absolute dreamboat. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I feel like I’ve heard a hundred stories about you and your brother already.”

You're pretty. Maybe it's shallow, or vain even, but Marcus had been worried when his mother had focused so hard on how nice and sweet you are. He's not the type of man who insults someone because of their looks, but physical attraction is a basic for any romantic relationship and some of the women who would be just ‘perfect’ for him in his mother's eyes didn't fit in any of the categories. Not even intellectually. He shakes your hand firmly and smiles. "It's all lies, I swear." He jokes, offering you the flowers. "I'm afraid that you have me at a disadvantage because I know your name and that you are sweet."

"The ladies in the book club sort of adopted me." The flowers are beautiful, and fresh, and you inhale the scent happily as the hostess leads you to a small, secluded table in the corner. "And I..." You laugh self-consciously, shrugging a little. "I just want you to know that I had nothing to do with this. It was all Donna's idea. So if we don't get along or something, it's no hard feelings."

"I have to apologize." Marcus shakes his head, enjoying the sounds of your light, nervous laugh. "My mother likes to meddle, so if you weren't actually interested, I will understand." He moves to pull out your chair for you when the hostess indicates the table and looks at you expectantly. It's your choice if you wish to sit down or not.

Maybe it's shallow – to take one look at him and know for sure that you're at least going to ride out this dinner to see what he's like. But then, isn't that what blind dates are, at least a little? Judging a book by its cover and then taking a peek to see what's inside? "I think it would be a shame to miss out on making a new friend, even if that's all this amounts to," you tell him as you sit down.

He can agree with that, admire it even. Smiling again and he wonders if that's all this will amount to. "What are you drinking?" He asks, nodding towards your glass that you had brought from the bar.

"It's called a Farmer's Daughter," you tell him, holding up the half-drunk glass of delicious fruity-boozy goodness. "Vodka, lime, passion fruit, raspberry...something else that I didn't know what it was so I can't remember what it's called. Domaine de something?" Shrugging shelf-consciously, you offer him the glass to try a sip. "It's fantastic."

It's charming the way you offer him a drink. He takes it and tries a small sip. "That's good." He agrees. "I was going to suggest a bottle of wine, but perhaps another of these?" He asks you.

The hostess nods and disappears after leaving your menus, and you sit back in your seat a little bit more comfortably than before. "This place has their own spirits. It seemed too good to pass up, and turns out that was the right choice." A small smile plays on your lips and you really don't know where it's coming from but you feel strangely confident tonight. "So you're usually a wine guy?"

“I am.” He nods, knowing that he would happily split a bottle with good conversation and laughs. “Are you more of a cocktail girl?”

"Usually." Again, you shrug, but offer him a smile. "But only because I know nothing about wine. I'd like to learn, if I found that I knew somebody who wouldn't mind teaching me."

“Well, if you like, we can have one more of those delicious cocktails and I’ll order a bottle of my favorite wine for you to try?” He offers. “Or perhaps just a glass to share, and if you don’t like it, we can explore what you do like?”

"That sounds like fun, actually." Normally when a guy offered to 'teach' you something it was just him insisting that he knew all the best of something or had every fact memorized. Marcus isn't like that and you relax just a little bit more with this discovery. A little bit of sharing and get to know you is perfect for a first date.

“Yeah?” He grins and nods, admiring your sense of adventure and that smile that you are giving him. “Okay, so the wine I like is kinda of dry, a red. That sound okay?”

"Sure." You agree brightly, basically up for trying whatever he suggests. "Like I said, I know nothing about wine. You could be ordering the stuff that comes in a box and I would just trust you that it's good."

He laughs, enjoying your honestly. “No boxed stuff, I promise.” He tells you and thanks the waiter when he comes back with your cocktail. “I’m sorry, but could we also have a glass of the Marqués de Riscal Rioja Reserva 2012?” He asks with a small shrug. “I couldn’t decide what I wanted, and now I do.”

Oblivious to the fact that that could have been an entendre, the waiter just nods and walks away, leaving the two of you alone at your cozy table again. "So..." you can't help the way your cheeks have gotten a little warmer in the last few seconds. "Is there anything you would like to know about me up front? You said your mother didn't tell you much."

“She did tell me that you work at the Library of Congress.” Marcus nudges the new drink towards you and takes the half finished one. He’s already drank after you, so it’s nothing to him. “So what do you do there?”

"I am a preservationist in the Children's Literature Center." Your work is delicate, and it is important, but some people find it unbelievable that your entire career is dedicated specifically to kids' books. "I'm part of the team that is digitizing rare children's books so that their contents will never be lost."

“Wow.” He’s impressed, knowing that is important work. Literature sound be preserved for the future generations to enjoy, much like art. “That’s— that’s gotta be pretty interesting day in and day out.”

“It’s no game of cops and robbers.” His mother had bragged about his promotions more than once, and you can’t help but smirk slightly when his ears turn red. “But I keep busy.”

“So you know that I’m a federal agent?” He asks, not sure what all his mother had rambled on about. Knowing her, she had told you about every girlfriend he had.

“Yes. Donna is extremely proud of you, so we all heard all about the last promotion.” Taking a sip of your drink, you feel just a touch of warmth is your cheeks that is all attraction and not from the cocktail at all. “Congratulations, by the way.”

“Thank you.” He bites his lip, caught between being embarrassed his mom was talking him up and enjoying the congratulations. The joy of his success has been sucked away by the Teresa thing, but he’s been trying to get back on track. “She’s just happy I’m close.”

“She’s very glad you’re home.” You can absolutely attest to that. It’s sweet, actually. They clearly get along well. “It sounds like if she could get your older brother to move back, she’d be in heaven having you both here.”

“Don’t think he’ll be moving to D.C. anytime soon.” Marcus admits. “But she’s happy to get out of the cold to go visit him during Christmas.”

“Louisiana always sounded like fun to be. Like a completely different world from anywhere else.” Probably that thought comes from having grown up in the thick of the Canadian border, but still. It seemed romantic to think about. “She said he’s in New Orleans?”

“Yeah.” He nods and grins. “He keeps telling me to come down for Mardi Gras.”

“Sounds like fun.” He has just one perfect dimple and you swear this is the first time you’ve understood why anyone would swoon. “Are you liking being back in DC, at least?”

“What’s not to love?” He asks, looking up again when the waiter returns with the glass of wine. “The museum, the Mall, the historic sites. I love walking through the Smithsonian.”

“I will absolutely drink to that,” you agree without hesitation. “This city is pretty much perfect as far as I’m concerned.”

He hums as he hands you the glass. “Try a sip of this, it’s dry but floral. I love this with a good cheese board.”

“A charcuterie guy, too? Nothing I love more than Adult Lunchables.” The grin on your face grows as you take the glass, giving it a sniff like you have any idea whatsoever what to look for, and take an adventurous sip. “Ooh that’s…I don’t know what I was expecting but that’s great. It’s like…it’s rich but it’s not heavy, if that makes sense?”

He nods and grins at you. “Now, imagine it with a funky cheese and a tart grape. Or a salty cracker.” He tells you, proud that you enjoy it. “Maybe a glass with dinner?”

“Absolutely.” It’s like a wake up for your senses, and even though you enjoy the sweet cocktail that you had ordered initially, the wine sounds like a decadent and very mature option for dinner. “Do you have any idea what you’ll order for food yet?”

“I figured I was going to order the braised short ribs with wilted summer greens and braised carrots.” He tells you, having looked at the menu before he ever arrived.

“Sounds pretty perfect.” When the waiter comes back you fill out your order, getting a basket of the kettle corn that the waiter gushes over to start with and ordering your dinners with another glass of wine so you can both indulge a little as you get to know each other.

“So, were you as nervous about tonight as I was?” The wine is being passed back and forth between you as your cocktail has been abandoned. He takes a sip and raises a brow at you in challenge.

"Terrified," you admit with a small laugh, but there is no point in trying to act smooth or more charming than you are. You're a slightly awkward person in general, and sometimes that can be charming all on its own. Or so you've been told. "I'm not...great at dating. Then the book club ladies took it upon themselves to figure out whose son was closest to my age and, well...here we are."

He laughs at the image you paint, all the ladies tossing out their eligible sons’ birthdays like trading cards. “Well, hopefully, you are enjoying yourself.” He offers with a grin, setting his elbows on the table and leaning in. The liquor and wine are loosening him up slightly, but it’s more that he’s enjoying conversing with you. Something he’s really missed about dating or being in a relationship with someone.

"I really am." His laugh is deep and rings in his chest, making his smile a little broader every time and making you wish that you had thought of something compelling or deeply interesting to tell him about yourself before setting foot in this restaurant tonight. But you had feared the worst, and expected the mediocre, so maybe that was the entire reason you found yourself enjoying this night? Simply by being handsome, intelligent, charming, and interesting, he was already blowing every single expectation you had out of the water. "Hopefully you are, too?"

“I am.” He gives you a small, self-conscious shrug. “My mother doesn’t have the best record when it comes to setting me up.” He admits. “The last one was a part of some antigovernment group and threw a glass of wine in my face when she found out I was, quote, a ‘fed pig’.” He tells you with the air quotes.

“That…” It takes a beat of extreme self-control not to laugh at how ridiculous that is, but you manage to keep yourself together. “Please say she didn’t know that this girl was anti-government when she set you up?”

“She had met her in her favorite bookstore.” He shakes his head and laughs. “Didn’t have a clue but she had to find another bookstore because it was the girl behind the counter.”

“But she tries to find you girls that read, huh?” That encourages you a bit. That Donna considers her son that intelligent. After all, he can’t be a slouch – not in art crimes. He has to at least have a little history and culture under his belt.

“I don’t want to always talk work, or politics.” He admits. “She had raised me to love reading and I’m forever grateful for that.”

“What do you like to read?” The question is automatic for you – something that you always ask new acquaintances and especially dates. It’s an important part of getting to know someone. “Personal curiosity as well as professional. I promise.”

“I can read anything.” Marcus tells you. “But, I spend so much time reading reports that I really enjoy fiction. Thrillers, intrigue. Even the odd romance novel.” He blushes when he admits that but he’s not going to lie.

“A good romance novel is entirely underrated. They’re great character studies. Plus?” You grin and pick up a piece of popcorn. There are only a few left in the basket and you’re enjoying the salty-sweetness with his dry wine. “Anyone who claims they don’t enjoy love stories is either lying or a bummer.”

“It’s like not liking classic movies.” He agrees with a grin. “I feel like some of the emotion has been lost. You give me Casablanca any day and I’ll show you a movie that is about loss as much as it is love.”

“I dumped a guy once for not liking classic movies,” you admit, albeit a little sheepishly. “He said that black and white was dumb because life is in color so ‘why weren’t all movies?’ And that all the stories were too trope-y. Can you believe that? Where did he think the tropes came from in the first place?”

“They are the model for the tropes.” He chuckles. “We had a class when I was in high school where you read classic literature and watched classic movies. I think it should be standard around the country. It helped shape my love of black and white movies.”

“I used to watch them with my mom whenever I was home sick.” Those memories are still so vivid for you, and precious. It had felt like a personal insult and not just a preference when the previous guy had talked down about classic cinema. “She got to see Katharine Hepburn in Coco in New York City when she was little and just worshipped her ever since. So, of course, I did too. And we would just watch everything we could get our hands on.”

“Oh wow.” Marcus is impressed and he shows it. “It would have been something, I’m sure.” He agrees. “I’m not all classical though. I like a good mix of modern as well. My old band used to play in Texas and I would go see them.”

“That’s right.” Donna had told you all about his band, of course, but it had slipped your mind while you got distracted over how attractive Marcus is. “Bass player, right?”

“Yeah.” He huffs out a small laugh, wondering if his mother had complained that he hadn’t wanted to cut his hair when he was playing, or if she was bragging. “And some vocals. Mainly backup.”

“Don’t downplay it.” You grin, watching his cheeks turn pink yet again. “I can’t carry a tune in a bucket. And getting on stage? I think I’d panic. That’s something you can be really proud of.”

“It’s not that bad.” Marcus tells you. “Just pick the prettiest girl and imagine them – uh –” he falters for a second. “Kissing you.” He supplies.

“Is that how you get past stage fright?” You have definitely never heard of that particular tactic before and you nearly giggle with how embarrassed Marcus looks admitting it. “Seems like we ought to get you back on stage then, shouldn’t we? That’s a very nice fantasy to let yourself play out.”

“Nahhh it’s been a long time since I’ve been on a stage.” He admits. “I like to just drink a beer and dance with the pretty girl.”

“Oh yeah?” The impulse to insinuate yourself into that situation is deep but you just smile, knowing very well that your cheeks and ears are burning with the thought. “Sounds…pretty perfect.”

“Yeah?” He grins and there’s a partial idea forming for later tonight if the rest of dinner goes like it is now. “Does it sound good to you?” He asks. “What’s your ideal date?”

“I—” Clearing your throat slightly, your skin burns even more. “Dinner and dancing, probably? Or going to see a screening of an old movie together.” Taking a sip of the wine before you hand it back to him, you brace yourself for the tingle you’ve been getting whenever your fingers brush. “I saw a TikTok the other day of a bookstore date, too. That looked fun.”

“A bookstore date?” He’s intrigued on that what that would entail. He leans in and snags the wine glass to take another sip. He should really order another glass so you each have your own, but there is something oddly fun about sharing. “Tell me about that.”

“It’s silly.” But somehow, you think he might like silly. “There’s this list of prompts. And you roll a die to see which prompt you get and you’re supposed to go all over the bookstore looking for a book to read that fits the prompts. It’s…to a librarian it sounds fantastic…choosing books for each other and having an automatic something to talk about on the next date, ya know?”

“That sounds like a great date.” Marcus agrees, liking the adventurousness of it. “A really good date. Maybe even you have to call the other person to read them a portion of the book that appeals to you.”

“I haven’t had anybody read to me in ages…” You can feel how soft you get in response to the idea but you just can’t seem to care. Every few minutes Marcus Pike seems to get more and more perfect. “That sounds absolutely dreamy.”

“You haven’t?” He’s surprised at that, and then there’s a little fantasy that plays out in his head. Calling you every night that he could and reading a few paragraphs to you while you are snuggled in your bed. “Maybe that will change.” He hums.

"I think I'd like that." The way he says it makes you feel so hopeful, like maybe this night is going as well for him as it is for you, and you bite your lip to hold back a full-force grin. "I think I'd like that a whole lot."

Marcus actually hates when the waiter comes back to order the meals, allowing you to order first and he puts in his order for his own meal and asks for another glass of wine. “Do you want one, or do you want to keep sharing?”

"I'm not going to lie, I kind of like the sharing," you admit with an embarrassed grin. This waiter just smiles politely and steps away, having seen plenty of good and bad dates over his career and not really thinking anything of the request.

“I like it too.” He admits with a matching grin. “Although if we order dessert, we’ll need to change to different wine.” He tells you.

"Ah, so my education continues?" He wouldn't have brought it up if he wasn't thinking about it in the back of his mind, and that makes your smile grow. "I know I've seen Dessert wines listed on menus before but other than knowing they exist, I don't think I could name anything else about them."

“They are sweeter, crisper.” He tells you. “Meant to enhance the flavor of the desserts. We will have to see if we have room.” He grins. “My sides are meant to be shared.”

“Maybe we’ll have to come back?” You venture, hopeful at the idea that tonight is going well enough to lead to a second date.

“It is a very good wine list.” He tells you with a grin. “Although there’s this little place down near the Potomac that is a wine bar paired with your – what did you call it? Adult Lunchables?” He tilts his head. “I think you might like that.”

The fact that he picks up on the thread immediately makes you flush warm again and grin so broadly that your cheeks ache. “It sounds perfect,” you admit. “Although I think Donna might float just a little if she finds out we’re planning date number two before the entree is even served on date number one.”

“We don’t have to tell her.” His own grin turns slightly mischievous. “Let her dangle for a bit before we let her know about that. It’ll drive her crazy.”

"You know I'm going to get just as many voicemails as you, right?" The devilish smile highlights his dimple far too perfectly and just about has you swooning, but you manage to keep it down to just a girlish giggle. "Are you going to be a bad influence on me, Marcus?"

“Depends on what you think is bad.” Marcus quips, winking at you as he leans back. You are charming, funny, sweet. All things that his mother had noted but he’s also attracted to you. And thoroughly enjoying this date.

Confidence looks very fucking sexy on him, and you end up leaning forward instinctively when he leans back, like he's pulling a string somewhere inside your ribcage when he goes. "Maybe I like bad. And I'm just making sure I'm going to enjoy myself?"

There’s a split second where Marcus has a choice on if he’s going to make a dirty innuendo, just like you have. “Oh, I guarantee you’ll enjoy yourself.” He promises, that grin turning slightly salacious. “Multiple times.”

He knows full fucking well what he’s doing, and the poorly timed sip of wine you have just taken nearly comes out your nose when you quickly cover your mouth with one hand to keep from spitting it everywhere or even choking on it. “Guarantee, huh?” When you can breathe again and don’t have wine in your mouth anymore, you manage to raise one steady eyebrow at him. “You’re a very confident man, Agent Pike.”

“It’s a money back kind of thing.” He teases, enjoying the easy banter and the fact that you are leaning into the atmosphere rather than getting offended by it.

“Oh, I see.” You tease right back, loving the freedom in the atmosphere between you. “So I’m investing in my future enjoyment?”

“Exactly.” He hums, nodding in an exaggerated manner. “You understand perfectly.”

******

“I don’t think I can do it,” you groan playfully, looking over the empty plates of the amazing dinner you just shared and knowing that dessert would have disastrous consequences. “I think I might pop like a balloon.”

“It was a lot of food.” Marcus admits, his own stomach edging just on the cusp of being overly full. “Plus the wine. So I don’t think I can make room either.” He sighs and leans back to rub his belly just to tease.

“It’s a good thing it’s a beautiful night for a walk.” The thought had been brewing for a while, and you offer Marcus a hopeful smile. “Only if you’re up for it, of course.”

“Absolutely.” The check is discreetly placed by his elbow and he shakes his head when you move to your purse. “This is my treat.” He insists, pulling out his wallet and putting his credit card down without glancing at the bill.

“Then next time will be mine,” you insist, having a feeling that Marcus is not at all the kind of guy to let that fly, but at the same time you have to wonder when the last time was that he allowed anyone to take care of him.

He hums, not agreeing or disagreeing. “So, where would you like to walk?” He asks. “There’s a lot of little shops and bars nearby.”

Pennsylvania Avenue is certainly lively, and since you had taken the Metro you don’t particularly care what direction you head in. “We could always head toward the Mall and let ourselves get distracted along the way?” You suggest, wanting to leave the night wide open for anything or everything.

“That sounds good to me.” Marcus brought his car, but the neighborhood is relatively safe and the parking isn’t by the hours. “Do you have comfortable enough shoes on?” He hadn’t noticed your footwear, but he wants to check.

“I’m not really a heels kind of girl,” you admit, hoping that that won’t break some kind of weird unconscious rule he has in his head. You’ve been told before that you should dress more femininely but the idea that high heels are the only feminine footwear seems utterly ridiculous. “And I’m always up for a walk.”

“That’s good.” He chuckles and when both of you stand from the table he kicks out a foot and shows his comfortable loafers. “I have to wear dress shoes at work, but I’m never going to bash comfortable footwear.”

“I learned a long time ago that knee-high boots go with almost any dress or skirt.” You take his arm when he offers it – very gentlemanly – and before you know it you’re out in the crisp night air. The moon is high and the streetlamps are bright, and you sigh a little contentment. Tonight is so, so much better than you thought it was going to be.

“That sigh is either a very good sign or a bad one.” He teases, looking over at you with a playful grin. “Can I ask which?”

“It’s good, I promise.” And as if to prove you, you send him a beaming smile. “I was just thinking how nice the night is, that’s all.”

“It is a nice night.” Marcus agrees. The air has just a bite to it without being bitter and yet it is still cozy. The dark night is illuminated by the streetlamps and the noise from bars and shops spills out onto the sidewalk in muted tones. “It seems magical, doesn’t it?”

“It does.” You agree with a grin, but for you, that magic is pouring off him – not the street around you.

******

“Hey look.” It’s a building that he hasn’t really noticed before but maybe it’s because he hadn’t been looking for it before. “Do you want to stop?”

“Sure.” You’d agree to almost anything right now and you shrug. “What is it?”

“Well, the name is Tomes and Tannins, so I’m thinking it might be one of those trendy wine shop slash bookstores?” He grins at you. “Why don’t we find out?”

“That is a level of fancy I never thought I would reach,” you admit with a grin and let him lead you inside. It’s deceptively mood-lit inside but with enough supplemental lights that you can read everything you need to, and there are cafe tables with chairs smattered around some mismatched armchairs and ever sofas with drink tables at either end. It’s cozy and welcoming, and obviously meant for you to stay a while.

“Hmmm this looks promising, right?” He asks, looking to see if you approve. “Interesting place.”

“Books and wine? Sounds amazing and looks even better.” A beaming smile of affirmation is all for him and you nudge him toward the stacks. “Where do you want to start?”

“Well…” he smirks slightly. “Show me that date idea that you liked? Picking out books for the other to read?”

“Oh!” Somehow you had already forgotten, and grin guiltily as you pull up the list of twenty prompts on your phone. “You’re supposed to roll a die to find out what numbers you get. Roll a die, find a book for each of us that fits the prompt, and just keep going until we decide we have our arms full.” Digging into your purse, you come out with a d20 from when you play Dungeons and Dragons with your friends and hold it up. “Do you want to go first?”

“Ladies first.” Marcus grins and motions towards a bookshelf. “Roll there and we will see what we come up with.”

Normally a high roll would be a great thing to get, but as you stare at the 17 that pops up on the die, you skim down the list on your phone and feel yourself smirk. “Number seventeen. A book that inspired a tv show or movie.”

“Now is this for me to find for you?” Marcus asks seriously. “Or is this your criteria for my book?”

“I think we’re both supposed to pick a book for each other that fits the category.” The video hadn’t exactly been clear, but that is how you interpreted it. And it sounded like the most fun way to do it anyway.

“Okay. So we each find the other a book that inspired a tv show or movie.” He agrees. “I say I roll and then we separate. We don’t show the other the book until we are done picking them out.”

“Alright.” You hold up the d20 to offer it to him. “Roll away, G-man.”

Marcus plucks the die from your fingers and puts it in his palm to close his fist around him. Grinning as he blows on it playfully like he’s rolling dice in a casino. “Here we go.” He tells you before tossing it down.

It's playful and sweet, and you giggle softly when the die hits the shelf and comes up with the number 5. You consult your list, tilting your head with a grin when you read what category he ended up with. "Number five. A book with an overly long title."

He hums and nods. “Why don’t we add a little bit of a challenge?” He asks. You tilt your head curiously, obviously interested. “We have ten minutes per book, so twenty minutes total. When the twenty minutes is up, we meet at the tables to have a glass of wine and exchange books.”

"Deal." The element of a game makes you smile even more broadly, and you hold up your finger before he can jet away from you. "One more thing?" You ask and wait until he nods. "I want to know your least favourite book of all time. Just so I don't grab it by accident."

“Honestly?” He gives you a guilty grin. “I hate the Lord of the Flies.” He admits with a small shrug. “Hated when it was required reading.”

"You are in no way the first person I've ever met who hated that book," you promise him, smothering a little laugh in the process. "I did not like Gone With the Wind. Couldn't even force myself to be empathetic with any of the characters, which is a shame. The plot is interesting."

“The movie is better, at least it’s watchable.” Marcus admits. “I always hated the scene after the little girl died.”

"Alright." Pulling out your phone, you set a timer for twenty minutes and watch him follow suit with that mischievous smile painted back in place. "Ten minutes for each book, and then we meet right back here for wine and to trade titles."

“Good luck.” With a wink, Marcus whirls around and rushes off, already having a title or three in mind.

It becomes a sort of secondary game – any time you run into each other in the maze of shelves you immediately guard the books you are carrying with your entire bodies and back away or even sprint away from each other so that the surprises won't be spoiled. It has the two of you giggling like idiots and has definitely attracted the attention of some of the other patrons, but no one seems to really mind. Who could possibly mind people having fun in a bookstore?

When he finds what he wants, Marcus barely resists hiding it under his jacket as he rushes up to the counter to make his purchase. Wondering if you will call him out or be disappointed. So he has a backup plan in case. Taking his bag and looking around the bookstore as he walks towards the table you agreed to meet him at.

You use an entire eighteen minutes debating whether or not it's cheating to just grab two of your favourite books to see if he'll like them before you finally just do it. They do fit the categories and he did say that he likes romances so one of them is only sort of a stretch. Grabbing the two novels, you head to the register and then back to the table, only to see him already sitting there. "You were speedy," you observe, raising one eyebrow as you sit down across from him at the table.

“I know what I want.” Marcus tells you, biting back the grin that he wants to display and feeling giddy for his reveal. He motions towards the board that displays what wines they have available. “Do you want to get a glass before we exchange?”

"Sure." He's being cheeky and it's sexy as hell, so you nod and bite back a grin. "You're the wine guru, so I'll try whatever you say is good."

“I think something sweet.” He decides. “A nice Shiraz for us to share?” He asks, wanting to know if you want your own glass or to share again.

"A shiraz to share sounds perfect." Not that you know what the hell shiraz is besides the obvious conclusion that it's wine, but the sharing part is what sounds best to you.

“Okay.” He nods and shoots you a wary look. “No peeking while I order.” He orders playfully, pointing at you. “I’ll be watching.”

He steps up to the counter and you dutifully put your hands on top of the brown paper bag stamped with the shop's logo that you paid for, not peaking in the bag he bought despite desperately wanting to. He comes back in less than three minutes but you're already near squirming in your seat because the suspense is killing you.

“Okay. This is a glass of Layer Cake.” He tells you. “Sounds good, but it’s honestly a first for me too.” He was feeling adventurous and wanted a new experience with you. He’s had shiraz, but he wanted to try this at the same time you did.

"So it's a new adventure for both of us, then." That somehow makes it feel romantic and not just sweet, but it would be silly to say so. "You take the first sip, I insist."

He chuckles. “So I can make sure it’s not poisoned?” He teases. “As you wish, my princess.”

The 'princess' bit makes your cheeks burn, but you don't want to admit that you want to know whether or not he likes it first. There's something about trying wines that makes you nervous and you don't want to accidentally end up loving something that he thinks is subpar. Maybe that's trying wines that is intimidating you, or maybe it's just that you like him. You can't tell, honestly.

Picking up the glass, he sniffs and hums before taking a sip. “Oh this is good.” He groans. “That would be good anytime you wanted wine.”

"Well now I'm excited." He hands the glass over to you and you take a sip, immediately sighing. "Oh, that's fantastic. That would have made me a wine person ages ago."

“I’m selfishly glad that you are exploring it with me.” He admits, admiring how you savor the wine and take another small sip.

"Feel free to be selfish, then, because this is fantastic." Handing the glass back to him, you waggle your bag in his direction with excitement. "Number seventeen or number five first?"

“You want to go first?” He asks, not caring at all. “Sure. Why don’t you surprise me?”

"Your librarian date is excited about books. This should be no surprise." Laughing as you reach into the bag, the book on top is what you decide to go with and you pull out an old faithful favourite. "Number five. A book with an overly long title." You tell him, presenting him with a copy of Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe by Fannie Flagg.

Marcus bites his lip and takes the book. “Okay.” He nods. “That is a long title.” He’s a little worried that you won’t like what he had chosen now.

"You look nervous." He does take the book, though, not reject it. "Have you read it before? It's okay if you have...or if you didn't like it." You're not one of those people who believes that a couple has to like all the same things, after all.

“No, no, I haven’t read this one.” He promises. “I can’t wait to see what it’s about. Especially since you seem to love it.”

"I do." It would be kind of useless to claim otherwise, and you sit back in your chair to accept the glass of wine from him. "What did you find for number five?"

“So…” he flashes you a small grin. “I kind of…cheated.” He admits. “I chose a book that is both five and seventeen.” He admits. “But now, so have you so I’m completely thinking that I fucked up. But I’ve got a corny ass back up.” He rushes out to assure you.

"You say cheating, I say creativity." You do bite your lip though, before admitting, "I actually have two of my favourite books that worked for what we rolled...so this is kind of just my excuse to show them to you. Which is also cheating. Just a little."

At least you aren’t mad. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a beautiful hardback book. “My book for you is this. The Princess Bride: S. Morgenstern's Classic Tale of True Love and High Adventure.” He slides the book in front of you.

It probably isn't the reaction he expects to have you almost tear up at the table, but you gently place your hands on the book and draw it closer to you like it is something delicate and precious – which, to you, it is. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that I mentioned wanting to be read to, does it?" You ask him with a grin. "Marcus it's perfect. And believe it or not...despite this being one of my favourite movies? I've never read the book."

“You haven’t?” His jaw drops and he shakes his head. “I don’t know which I like better, the movie or the book.” He admits. “I have my own copy at home.”

"I've read Cary Elwes' book, but somehow not the novel." The way he lights up at having made a good choice for you might be the most adorable thing you've ever seen. "I guess that's finally about to change."

“I did get another book but I decided it was a bit much after.” He admits, slightly flustered that he bought that book. But it has been made into a movie.

“What was the other one?” His ears have turned red and now you have to know, even nudging the wine glass back toward him in case he needs a little courage.

He blows out a breath and pulls out the other book from the bag. “Okay, but don’t judge me.” He begs, revealing the front of Fifty Shades of Grey.

“Why Marcus, is this a hint?” He has turned an even deeper shade of red and you can’t resist another giggle before batting your eyelashes at him.

“I— no, I don’t mean— it’s just that—” he sputters and chokes on his words before he heaves a sigh and drops his chin to his chest. “Fuck. I knew I should have just found something else.”

“You only should have grabbed something else if you didn’t mean to flirt with me,” you tell him honestly and pull your own book that inspired a tv show or movie out of your paper bag to hand him. The Duke & I by Julia Quinn now has images from the Bridgerton tv show splashed all over the cover, making it unmistakable. “You said you like romance novels sometimes,” you defend, shrugging your shoulders.

“I’ve not read this.” He admits, reaching for the book to read the inside cover. “It sounds interesting. This is a show right?”

“Bridgerton.” You nod, wondering what - if anything - he’s heard about it. “Most people call it something like… ‘horny Jane Austen’.”

He snorts and chuckles to himself as he continues to read it. “Then I see why it appeals.” He jokes. “Nothing like love and sex.”

“Technically isn’t that what this is, too?” You ask, waggling the copy of 50 Shades at him. “Just… kinkier.” It’s an honest question, really. Since you’ve never read it.

“It’s – not bad but you can tell that whoever wrote this is just guessing at what they think BDSM is about.” Marcus tells you.

"So...do that mean you do know what BDSM is about?" It's an intriguing thought, to imagine this otherwise very clean-cut looking guy being into anything kinky, and you can't say you hate it. Not at all.

"I—" He never should have opened his mouth. He never should have opened his goddamn mouth. If it was possible to get any hotter, Marcus swears his face would just burst into flames. This isn't something that his mother would know because there is zero chance in hell he would ever tell her. "I was undercover." He explains. "The people I was— associating with, they were into that kind of scene." He bites his lip. "I had to do a lot of research on it, but I've never actually, you know, uh, practiced it." He assures you.

"Please don't think I'm judging," you reach over the table quickly to give his hand a squeeze and shake your head vehemently. "Honestly, if anything? I find it very...interesting. But have never practiced any of it, either."

"I just don't want you thinking that I'm—" He shrugs slightly. "I don't know what I'm trying to say. Normally I'm more confident than this, but not this time." He chuckles quietly.

"You don't want me to think you're kinky?" You ask, tilting your head slightly. "It's not a bad thing to be. But...I'm sorry if I did anything to shake that confidence." With a half-smirk, you shrug one shoulder in admission. "I promise you'd be extremely confident if you could hear the monologue in my head tonight."

"You didn't do anything, I promise." Marcus reaches out after you had pulled back and takes your hand again. "My last...relationship. She's the one that kind of screwed with my head." He confesses quietly. "But I want to know about this internal monologue of yours."

"The coworker." Of course his mother had told you about his ex-fiancée. She hadn't wanted you to feel like she was throwing you into an unknown situation. "From what your mom said...she sounds like she was a little...dishonest? And that's bullshit. I'm sorry you had to deal with that."

"It's done." There's nothing he can do to change it, and he's not sure that he would want to now that he's looking back on the situation. "But I'm hoping that I can get that confidence back."

"Well, if you hadn't said anything, I never would have known that this is the less confident version of you." His hand dwarfs yours, the warmth of it completely welcoming and overtaking all your senses. And it's so, so welcome.

"Is the book, alright?" He asks. "You can just read the first one if you want."

"Oh, no." The grin you aim his way is mischievous. "I'm definitely going to read both. Who knows? I might learn something."

"Have you seen the movies?" He asks curiously.

"No..." You can feel your cheeks heat up all over again. "It always seemed...I don't know, maybe I'm just really vanilla, but they always seemed so close to porn to me?" Not that that is a bad thing. And not that you don't watch your share of porn. Just usually not of the BDSM variety.

"It was actually pretty tastefully done." Marcus admits. "I've seen them. My ex wanted to see them, so..." He shrugs. "You go see them."

"See? You're already a font of information compared to me." His hand is still covering yours and you shiver a little at the innuendo of it all. Of how warm and tempting he is. "I guess I'll have to catch up. Educate myself."

It’s on the tip of his tongue to tell you that you can watch the movies together, but that might be too forward. Instead, he grins. “Sounds like you have a research plan.”

"Apparently so." Under the table, the toe of your shoe finds the back of his leg completely by accident as you shift in your seat, and you grin guiltily. "I was about to apologize for that," you admit, knowing that it must have seemed like you were trying to play footsies or something under the table. "But honestly? I'm not sorry."

“Really?” His brow lifts and he shoots you a grin. “You like playing footsie?” He asks, his own foot reaching out and tapping yours gently.

"I think it's kind of cute, honestly." The innocent shrug is accompanied by a bright, smitten smile, and you nudge Marcus's foot back playfully.

“Best part of cuddling is sliding your foot along the leg of your cuddle buddy.” He tells you. “Or letting your hands wander.”

"Mmm...it's hands." And he has such huge hands...the possibilities are endless. "It's definitely hands."

“You’re a touch kind of girl?” He asks, intrigued by the idea and he wonders if your love language is physical touch. He’s noticed that you’ve reached out several times when reassuring him.

"Touch is a powerful thing." You reason, not making a single move to take your hand out of his. "It can be intense or gentle, reassuring or electrifying. It can be almost anything."

“Electrifyingly reassuring.” Marcus quips, squeezing your hand gently. He picks up the wine with his free hand and takes a sip.

"Like it's exciting but at the same time...feels kind of...right?" Which is exactly how you feel about him, and you're kind of going out on a limb admitting it but you don't think he's gearing up to reject you.

It does, he looks down at your joined hands and smiles. "I think so." He hands you the wine and hums. "Now, we have a couple of options for the rest of the night, if you're up for it." He grins. "We can continue to walk and talk. Or...." He shrugs. "I have my car back at the restaurant and I can drive you back to my place and we can have a cheese board and read to each other?"

He knows what he’s offering — not even in a salacious way — and that a night of reading books is like catnip to a librarian. You can’t help but get excited for it. Even the most boring night in the world would be improved by this, but tonight? With how it’s going? It sounds practically like foreplay. “What are we waiting for?” You ask, grinning, and take the last sip of wine from the glass. “We both have brand new books to read and my guess is that you definitetly have a couch big enough for two. I’d say that decision is easy.”

"Yeah?" He had expected you to say no. It's the first date after all. Beaming at you, he motions towards the wine. "Do you want to get a bottle of this to take with us?" He asks. "It would go good with any of the adult Lunchable things we can get."

“You’re going to keep teasing me about it, but I stand by that description.” You do nod though, having thoroughly enjoyed this particular glass of wine even more than what he had ordered at dinner.

He chuckles. "It's a good one." He admits. "I've never looked at it that way, but now I can see why you say that. I used to beg my mom to buy Lunchables."

“And now you love charcuterie. Which is the very same thing in a much neater package.” It’s silly, but you’ve always liked silly. It can really open a person up.

He squeezes your hand. "You finish that glass and I will see about getting us a bottle to take home." He tells you, letting go to stand up and quickly walk back to the counter. Feeling incredible about this date and almost hating that he had ever been dreading it.

Two sips and a purchased bottle later, the two of you are out the door of the little shop and heading back in the direction of the restaurant to retrieve Marcus’s car. The night is clear and crisp now and even though the city lights glow brighter than the stars you can sweat you feel the distinct light of the moon before anything else.

“How did you come to dinner?” He asks as he guides you towards his car. “If you feel more comfortable following me, I can give you the address.” He huffs. “Although I should probably do that anyway so you can send it to a girlfriend.”

“I have to admit, it’s comforting to have a guy even acknowledge that kind of thing.” Especially that he’s a federal agent, and doesn’t seem to feel entitled to your obedience or safety based purely on that fact. Instead he dutifully gives you his address after you tell him that you took public transportation to get here, and you send it off to your best friend.

“I understand.” He admits. “The number of people who disregard others safety or their own drives me insane sometimes. At the end of the day if someone gets offended for wanting to feel secure, they don’t have good intentions.” Marcus tells you. “Plus, my mother would kick my ass.”

“She definitely would.” You can agree to that, and thank him quietly when Marcus opens the passenger door for you to get into his car. The address he had given you was in Georgetown so you had a short but nice drive ahead.

“So what kind of music do you like?” He asks as he starts the car and looks behind him to back out of the spot. “Feel free to change it to whatever you like.”

“I would never change Pearl Jam.” Is the very serious reply he gets from you, as the alternative rock station he has programmed on his satellite radio is currently playing ‘Even Flow’. “There was a band that played in my college town that did all 90s rock covers and they were the absolute best shows to go to.”

“That had to be awesome.” Marcus hums. “I was too busy playing to really see a lot of shows and I regret it. But I loved being in the band.”

“Well then I guess we’ll have to find some live music to go see.” There seems like plenty of common ground that you can pick up on together and that is a very good sign if nothing else. “If the sound of a 90s influenced jam band doesn’t make you want to run for the hills, The Southern Ocean is playing at The Runaway this weekend.”

“I’ve never heard of them.” Marcus admits sheepishly. He’s been focused on work and not really out on the social scene the past few months. “Are they good?”

“I mean, I think so.” It’s not exactly surprising that the name is unknown to him and you glance over at him while he drives. “Their bassist is a friend, so I try to support whenever I can.”

“Then that’s definitely something I would want to check out.” Marcus nods. “It’s always good when you see friends play.”

“Would you want to come with me?” It’s only slightly presumptuous to plan out a second date when you’re still in the middle of the first one, but you like Marcus. You like him. He’s smart and handsome as hell and sweet, and even balances flirtation and respect on the perfect level. Honestly, you can’t imagine what kind of an idiot his exes were to let him get away.

“If you’re offering.” He smiles. “Who the hell ever resists an invitation from a pretty girl to go see a band?” He shakes his head. “I might be dumb, but I’m no fool.”

“You’re not dumb. Or a fool.” That’s exactly the kind of thing you don’t put up with from guys you date and you were glad to be able to rule it out very early with Marcus. You exchange a small smile at the next light when he pulls up to it and for the rest of the ride you sing along with the music and just enjoy yourselves.

When he pulls up to his house, Marcus is sort of panicking. Wondering if he had picked up this morning after he had dropped his clothes on the floor from his run. The last thing he wanted was for you to think that he was a slob.

“Home sweet home?” You guess, looking up at the picturesque blue house with its literal white picket fence. It even has a gate out front that someone lovingly painted flowers on in lieu of adding a name.

“Yeah.” He chuckles and gives a small shrug. “It was a hell of a deal when I stumbled on it and I jumped.”

“It’s beautiful.” The lawn is dotted with wildflowers from what you can see in the dark, and suddenly the mental image of stargazing with him on a blanket is impossible to shake.

“Thank you. Luckily, I pay a wonderful company to keep the yard looking nice because I don’t have time to do it.” He admits with a small laugh.

“They do a much better job than the landlord at my duplex,” you offer him a smile before he slides out of the car and goes around to your door to let you out. The front door is a mere six steps away and Marcus’s house is even sweeter and more inviting once that door is open. It’s like somebody built the set of a Hallmark movie in real life just for this handsome FBI agent.

“So, this is home.” He knows that it’s decorated more than the standard bachelor pad and he’s okay with that. He’s not the type of man to just have a chair and a tv in the living room. “Make yourself comfortable, I can put your coat in the closet if you want?”

“Thanks.” It’s the most intimate contact you’ve had tonight besides holding hands, and you swear you can feel your skin tingle when he slides your jacket off your shoulders for you before hanging it beside his in the closet. The little shiver that runs through you is a private thrill and you know you probably look dreamy as hell as you follow him past the living room to the kitchen.

“How about you arrange the cheese board while I open and pour the wine?” He asks as he opens the refrigerator to pull out the sliced cheeses and meats he keeps there because he likes them.

It sounds wonderfully domestic, and you agree to it easily as he pulls out a small board and sets it down on the counter. Packages of Gruyère, havarti, and something marked Seriously Sharp cheddar all fill out the board and you do your valiant best at attempting to fold and rolls the slices of cured meats into petite little roses for the two of you to enjoy demolishing together. Some fresh grapes and cherry preserves join the tray, and Marcus produces a half of a baguette seemingly out of nowhere once the wine is poured. It’s all deceptively easy, the way you seem to work with and around each other, and by the time you make it back out to the living room you know you’re just completely gone for this man. His little smiles, deep laugh, and soft demeanor have you utterly relaxed and so, so smitten.

“Do you want to put on some music?” Marcus asks. “Maybe we can just relax. Lean back and read to each other?” He’s leaning into the idea that you would like this and he wants to make sure that you enjoy yourself.

“What do you want to read first?” It sounds like possibly the most romantic idea in the world – just sitting and reading to each other in comfort with an indulgent (and savory) dessert. If the thought of curling up with him and finding out what it feels like to be close to him is anything, it is fairly close to perfection.

“Ladies choice.” He hums quietly, moving over to the record player he has sitting next to the collection of vinyl’s. It’s not to look snooty, he’s been obsessed with them since his mother played them while cleaning, claiming it sounded better. For classical music, it does. It brings back a sense of nostalgia, sets a mood.

“Rachmaninov?” The melody sounds familiar, like something out of a dream, when it starts up and the name seems to drudge itself out of the depths of your memory. “That’s got fantasy and romance written all over it.”

He hadn’t chosen the music with that in mind, but he smiles. “Too much?” He asks, even though he doesn’t feel like you will think that.

“Not at all.” In fact, just the opposite. It feels just right. “But it feels like The Duke & I or Princess Bride for sure.”

“Okay.” He smiles as he moves over to the couch and toes off his loafers to reveal the dress socks he had been wearing underneath. “You can get comfortable.” He promises, taking off his sports jacket and removing his tie.

Getting Comfortable on a date for you would usually lead to sexier things than snacks and reading — but then, is there anything sexier than reading in the first place? For a librarian that seems impossible. So instead, you follow suit and toe off your boots to curl up in the couch beside him.

It seems almost natural to have you curl into the crook of his body and Marcus opens his arms slightly. “How about I read to you to start?” He asks softly.

For most people this might be a recipe for falling asleep, but tonight the sound of his voice is vibrating through the thin fabric of your dress as you lean against him. The lingering scene of his cologne mixed with the wine and new book smell in a way more intoxicating than alcohol ever could be. “You’re dangerously comfortable,” you warn him, drawn right against him like a magnet.

"I don't mind being called that." He laughs quietly, trying not to jostle you too badly as you snuggle against him and he settles into opening the new book. Hearing the spine creak open slightly and he wonders if you are like him and prefer hardback over paperback books. At least for gifts.

“All we need is a fire in the fireplace and we’re just about as picturesque as I can imagine.” It’s dangerous to turn your head to smile at him from this angle because it brings you within about two inches of his perfectly tantalizing lips, but you remind yourself to behave. This is just the first date. No need to rush.

“Not quite cold enough yet.” He can’t help but look down at your lips, imagining kissing you in front of a cozy fire after a night in. Or maybe coming home to relax after a night out.

“Soon.” The moment is so soft, and you watch his eyes drift down to your lips the same way yours did to his a second ago with a warm buzzing in your chest. Whether you mean the fire or the kiss should be soon is entirely up to him to decide.

“Should I start to read?” He asks quietly. Feeling the moment start to grow into something warmer, sweeter.

“Yeah—I—um…” Any hesitation on your part is strictly attraction based, and you move your head a safe distance from his lips so as not to get distracted. “Please.”

Marcus turns his eyes to focus on the book and not on you. “The birth of Simon Authur Henry Clyvedon Fitzranulph Basset, Earl Clyvedon was met with great celebration.” He keeps his voice low, intimate between the two of you as he was reading you a story before bed.

It’s simultaneously the most relaxing thing in the world and causing you to be completely on edge, the way Marcus’s rich voice seems to roll right through you as he begins to read. Every place that the two of you are touching seems to be on fire and you cannot decide if you want to jump him or take the world’s most luxurious ride on his narration alone.

He feels you stiffen in his arms and he wonders if you’ve change your mind. “Everything okay?” He asks, wanting to check in with you. He had anticipated you melting against him, but you seem on edge and if it’s something he’s doing, he wants to fix it.

“Of course.” There’s nothing wrong with how relaxed you feel right now, but you know you’ve been a little tensed against him. You had just been hoping that he wouldn’t notice. The fact that he looks at you incredulously says he definitely did. “I’m—” Flustering, you clear your throat as gently as you can manage and bite back a smile. “I’m a little distracted,” you admit, wondering how well complete honesty will go over with him.

“Cold?” Marcus asks. “There’s a blanket right over your other shoulder.” He hums. “Snuggle against me and curl under it. I meant it, make yourself comfortable.” He’s not sure if it’s the change from having your jacket and boots on that’s distracting you, but he doesn’t mind the idea of being under a blanket together.

Not entirely sure that snuggling more would distract you less,” you pull the blanket down anyway and do as he suggests. It brings the two of you even closer and you have to tamp down the coil tightening even further in your gut. Keep your shit together. You’re a grown ass woman! “There.” You smile, but looking up at him brings your eyes to his lips again and you don’t even realize as your tongue darts out to wet your own lips at the sight. “All better.”

His eyes drop down to your lips and he all but groans at the sight of them wet. “Good.” He croaks out, clearing his throat. “That’s good.” It’s hard to tear his gaze away from you, but he needs to so he doesn’t overstep.

“Mmhmm.” Nodding is like a reflex, and for all your determination you just can’t look away. “Very good…”

There’s a moment where Marcus wants to put the book down and give into the desire to kiss you. But that wouldn’t be what you had planned when you came over here and if something happens, he’s determined to let you lead. “So, uh, where was I?”

“I think—” But the thought isn’t there. You have no idea what the last thing he read was, despite how much you love the sound of his voice. Every sense has been taken over by the buzzing hum running through your body and the spark of his skin touching yours. “I don’t—” You could bluster. Or try to skim the page and guess. But your impulses are a hell of a lot stronger than your good sense tonight. “—I really want to kiss you—”

Marcus groans quietly and the book snaps shut with a definitive thump. “I really want you to kiss me too.” He admits. “You should go with your instincts.”

“Instincts are important,” you nod as wisely and seriously as possible even as you’re turning into his side. Those warm puffs of breath that have been ghosting over your skin make you shiver, and you just have an unshakable feeling that this is that start of something completely wonderful. “Oh yeah?” You hum, close enough to nudge his nose with yours.

“Yeah.” Marcus exhales roughly, feeling like he is about to vibrate out of his skin. Despite his complaint to his mom that it was too soon since Teresa, he feels that this is nearly perfect. You’re perfect and he’s painfully attracted to you.

It only takes the smallest movement to fit your lips against his, but the response that floods your body is monumental. It really should only have been a quick, light, gentle kind of first kiss — but he did say to go with your instincts. So instead your hand comes up to graze the line of his jaw when the blissful feeling of having him kiss you back makes you feel like you might vibrate out of place right there on the couch.

It’s innocent, really. The kiss doesn’t go much deeper than the exploration of each other in that first pressing of lips and yet he feels like his heart is about to explode out of his chest. The only reason you pull back is to check in with him. It really is. Because that simple little first kiss might be the best first kiss you’ve ever had. His smile is a little dreamy, almost goofy as his eyes flutter opened after closing on their own. Looking at you as if you had hung the moon after that kiss.

"You look how I feel," you tell him, grin splitting your face clean across as you tuck tightly into his side. That pure joy radiating from his smile is the same feeling filling up your chest right now.

“Like you could tap dance on air?” He asks with an answering grin of his own. Wanting to pull you close and kiss you again, but resisting.

"Maybe." Neither of you were expecting the giggle you share, but it makes you both smile that much harder and you shift slightly against him. "And...like I didn't want to stop..."

“That too.” The book falls to the floor as he shifts slightly. His eyes are darker now, the lust and desire making his amber eyes turn to onyx. “You don’t have to.”

The momentum sweeps both of you up in a way you didn’t expect at all. As soon as he agrees to wanting even a little more you feel like the whole world tilts on its axis. You shift in his arms to surge toward him, lips pressing against his in earnest and barely managing to swallow a moan when he pulls you in tighter. It has you throwing caution to the wind and taking advantage of the open-mouthed kiss to taste him with your tongue — and letting a second moan out when he tastes just as sweet as you thought.

His arms wrap around you, not wanting you to shift too far away as he drowns in the kiss. Letting the feeling of your tongue caressing his completely overrule any semblance of thought beyond you and making sure you are aware of how much he is enjoying kissing you.

Trying to get as close to each other as you possibly can, you turn one more time in his arms and shift forward without ever breaking the kiss. His arms hold you steady, following wherever you’re going next, and in a moment of impulsivity and bravery you swing one leg over his lap to straddle Marcus completely on the couch.

Groaning, he absorbs your weight easily and his hands slide down your sides to squeeze your hips. He’s not upset you’re in his lap, quite the opposite. It makes his kiss just a little more frantic, trying to devour you a bit more.

Marcus has big hands. You know that already. But feeling them on you is totally different. His grip is firm but gentle, sweeping up and down your sides, and you’re suddenly hyper aware that you chose a dress and leggings and that those things provide no barrier between his body and yours. You can feel damn near everything underneath you and that is a blessing as well making you hyper aware of the warmth radiating off of him in waves.

He pants against your lips and feels like he’s underwater. Knowing that he is starting to harden underneath you at the warmth of your body, your core pressed against him.

The only thing that could possibly reel you back in at this point is him — the very same thing that is driving you crazy. But before you start grinding against him or even so much unconsciously moving your hips, you need to make sure he’s okay with it. You’re both panting heavily when you press your forehead against his, and your hands grip his shoulders tightly for balance. “I can stop…” you promise him, knowing that reeling yourself in now will be easier than later. “If you don’t want—more—”

“No.” The word is more whimper and plea than command and he wouldn’t do that anyway. “I— I’m good. I want—” He shakes his head and leans in to press his lips to yours again.

He wants just like you do, if the growing bulge beneath you is any indication, and you are not the slightest bit upset about that in anyway. It isn't what you came here for – or why you went on this date in the first place – but fuck if it isn't feeling like the perfect way to cap off the night.

The subtle circling of your hips has his fingers digging into your thighs as the most delicious groan rips out of his throat. Unsure if he wants you to stop or to just grind on him until you’re panting his name, he slides his tongue down your jaw and to your neck to follow it up with tiny kisses.

"Fuck— Marcus." The iron grip you had on his shoulders has slacked only so you can run your hands down his chest, feeling his heartbeat hammer under your fingertips just as fast as your own as he dusts kisses along your neck and raises goosebumps in his wake.

“So sexy.” He murmurs into your skin. Scraping his teeth over your pulse and sucking lightly. Enjoying the tremor that runs through you and the way you press down against his cock as you moan. He’s hard and starting to ache now, twitching every time you move.

“Unbelievably hot.” The first time you deliberately tilt your hips and rock your core over him, you both moan and you melt against him with your fingers fumbling for his buttons. “C—can I?” You manage, even though you feel like your voice is shaking. “Want to touch you, baby. Please?”

Exhaling on a shudder, Marcus gulps in air greedily. "Whatever you want." He croaks out. "I— fuck," His eyes close and his head tilts back slightly, exposing his Adam's apple. "I want you, but this stops wherever you want it to." He's not the type of man to push beyond your comfort, but if you said you wanted him inside you, he'd already be asking about protection. Not feeling like this is some sort of rebound, it feels like the beginning of something wonderful.

“I don’t want it to stop,” you admit, pausing with your fingers already in the first button of his shirt to find his eyes. This is not your usual first date M.O. but there is something here. Something very real and new between you that has wrapped itself around both of you together.

“We don’t have to stop.” Marcus promises you breathlessly, biting back a groan of pleasure when your hand splays across his chest, touching his hot skin.

"Thank god." Your own moan is a soft and breathy thing as you lean back to watch the broad expanse of his chest come into view with every button you manage to wrench open.

He manages to chuckle, even though he wants to just pull you closer and rip your clothes open to touch you, but he just pulls you close.

It's so damn easy to sink into him. For both of you to let your hands wander and your kisses migrate across each other's skin. He's stronger even than he looks at first glance and that is very strong – to the point where you really wonder if he might be able to just lift you up and carry you off. And that is just about the sexiest thing you can think of.

Keeping his hands on top of your clothes is going to be a real fucking challenge. Especially now that you have stripped him of his dress shirt and his undershirt. Squeezing and caressing every inch of skin you are baring, even the back of your tender neck while he scatters kisses along your lips.

The way he grabs and bunches your dress in his hands but doesn't reach further makes you groan, wondering if he's hesitant or if he's just waiting for permission. It really only takes a few seconds to realize there is something hesitant about the way he is kissing you or palming your hips and breasts over your dress, so you take one of his hands and guide it under the hem of your dress in invitation.

Marcus moans when you guide his hand under your dress, giving him permission to touch you and it becomes his mission to touch every inch of your body. Both hands slide up and down your thighs in sweeping passes, over your panties and to your stomach.

"Fuck." His hands are burning hot, making you shiver counterintuitively and lean into every touch. At this rate you may leave a damp patch from grinding down on him, but you don't even care. The friction is too good to ease up on. The only way you're moving off is so Marcus can get his pants off.

"That's right, baby." He agrees, unable to stop twitching every time you grind against the hard bulge in his slacks. "Fuck is right." His thumb sweeps under your breast right before he slides up to cover it with his hand, right over the bra and squeeze possessively. "You want to take off your dress for me, sweetheart?"

It's not even worth wasting breath on a reply, you just tear your hands away from his chest to pull your dress up over your head. It gets tossed somewhere on the floor and instantly forgotten about as you pant for your breath back and watch Marcus's eyes drink you in.

He didn't know that he could look so many places at once. Your tits, mouthwatering and begging for his attention. Down to your pretty panties that he wants to rip off and bury his tongue inside you to hear you squeal his name. Back up to your face and he nearly growls as he rushes in to kiss you again.

The momentum nearly knocks you backward but Marcus's arms are there to hold you steady. If he has his way you'll be staying skin-to-skin for a whole lot longer tonight and you have absolutely no problem with that. Every time his cock twitches under you, you can't help but moan, and soon it's going to be just a litany of that sound over and over.

Deft, sure hands reach back to undo your bra, making the first move to strip clothing off of you. Pulling the straps down your arms and immediately reaching up to cup your breasts and fill his hands with them. As simple as it might be to get a simple piece of clothing off of you, your high-pitched whine says everything about how eager you are to be rid of every stitch. "You have the best hands," you moan when he pinches your nipples and rolls the tight buds between his fingers for the first time.

"You have the best tits." Marcus hums, almost chuckling as he watches your head drop down to your chest and then roll back. "Fuck, that's it," he groans when you circle your hips on his cock again.

"S—swear this isn't what I was expecting—" You manage to breathe out, trying to assure him that you never expected sex tonight. "But fuck, baby."

"Me either." He agrees, kissing your jaw and then down your chest. His hot mouth moving towards your breast until he's pulling your nipple into his mouth.

“Mar—Marcus.” The heat of his mouth makes you keen even as your head drops back and the fingers of one hand tangle in his short hair. At this point every time you grind your hips down it’s like you’re trying to reach his cock inside his pants, and you know he’s as hard as you are wet.

He huffs and blows his breath against your nipple as he lets go of it, smirking up at you before sucking it back into his mouth. Knowing that tonight is nowhere near what he had imagined it being like and yet he can't be mad at it. He's eager to feel more of you.

“Feels so damn good.” The contrast of hot and cool on your skin makes your eyelids flutter and you rock in his lap.

He moans in agreement, his tongue flicking over the stiff peak and he loves how it puffs up even more in his mouth. Pulling off only to attack your other breast with equal enthusiasm.

Every flick of his tongue sends another shiver down your spine and as much as you just want to ride it out and see if you can cum only from having your tits sucked on, you want him more. One hand stays threaded in his hair but the other reaches down between you, finding the thick bulge of his cock in his pants and squeezing experimentally to see what makes him moan.

Marcus’s breath is ragged, shuddered against your skin and he pulls away because he might bite down too hard if you do that too well. “Fuck, baby.” He groans when you squeeze him again.

"I—" You breathe, panting when he twitches in your hand and you can feel how thick he is. "I have a condom in my wallet." It had been just a nothing idea, to throw one in while you were getting ready. More of a joke to yourself about how you always seem to be so overprepared. But now? Thank god you did.

"Yeah?" He kisses up your neck again and his tongue slides against the sensitive skin behind your earlobe. "I have one too." He admits. He's always carried one, but not because he expected sex, but because it was surprisingly handy to have at times. "Do you want to use yours or mine?"

"Yours first, mine second." It might sound a little overconfident, but something in you tells you for certain that this isn't just a one-time thing. Besides that, Marcus's hazy, lust-filled grin at your comment is worthwhile.

"Good girl." He groans out, twitching against your core at the thought of multiple rounds after you've both caught your breath and recovered.

That makes you moan reflexively, and you don't even pretend to demure over the reaction. It's honest and it's real. Who doesn't want to be praised during sex?

"Oh you like that." He chuckles and leans in to kiss your lips again softly. "I'll keep that in mind." He will, he will take note of every damn think you like.

"Not even going to pretend I don't." You lean forward to nip at his neck in turn before stepping back from him with a groan. With two feet on the rug, you already hate the distance between you. But you'll take care of that as soon as you strip his pants away.

Marcus pouts slightly but he quickly unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants so he can lift his hips up so you can pull his pants down. Black boxer-briefs under black trousers is very adult of him, and you're far too focused on the thick length trapped under that last layer of fabric to tease him about boring underwear. Instead you toss him his wallet from the back pocket of his pants and slip off your tights while he fishes for the condom packet.

Catching his wallet, Marcus opens it and pulls the condom out and tosses it on the coffee table before he bites his lip. Looking at you before he lifts his hips again and pushes down his boxer briefs.

Broad shoulders and a thin waist give way to long legs, but your attention is focused on his dark eyes until you let your gaze drop to his lap. The head of his cock is bordering purple, dripping precum, and it gives a distinct twitch against his belly when he watches you watch him. The perfect moment of quiet before the storm that is about to take over, you crack a grin at Marcus and take a step forward. That cock is going to feel so fucking good inside you.

"I take it you approve?" He asks, smirking himself as he holds out his hand to you. "Now, I want you to take off your panties for me, sweetheart."

“Oh, these things?” With your thumbs hooked into either side of your panties, you grin a little wider before slipping them straight down your legs to pool at your feet. “Gone.”

"Fuck." He groans, cock jerking again at the sight of you completely bare in front of him. "You're so beautiful. I'm lucky to be able to touch you."

You hum, shaking your head and making a show of walking the three steps you need to need to be ready to crawl back into his lap. “I could say the same thing.”

He chuckles and rips open the condom to roll down his length. Biting his lip while he studiously applies the prophylactic, he looks back up at you with his hand wrapped around his covered cock. "Then touch me again and make me believe it." He teases.

Never having known a single man who didn’t like having his cock ridden, you fit one knee on the outside of each of his hips and sit yourself down directly over his core, replacing his hand with yours and wishing you had had the opportunity to suck his cock just a little before he applied the condom. Next time, you tell yourself, rocking over the tip of his length and watching his Adam’s Apple bob dramatically until you start to slide that length inside you an inch at a time.

His hands find your hips again. Not to rush you, but to hold you as you slowly start to engulf his cock. Moaning out your name when you get the first two inches inside your hot body and your walls squeeze him tight. "That— fuck, baby, you feel so good." He praises breathlessly. "How— is it good?" He can barely think straight, but he wants to make sure you are comfortable.

“Perfect.” Barely holding onto your last shred of control, you are determined to make sure you both latch on to the bliss of this moment before anything else. “Fucking perfect.”

Your fingers dig into his shoulders but the slight pain just adds to how good the way you sink down onto him feels. Groaning again as you keep taking him, wrapping him up in the heat of your body. "Good."

“Goddamn.” When he’s fully seated inside you, you pause long enough for both of you to catch your breath. “Tell me when I can move, baby.”

"Anytime you want to move." He moans, wanting you to move now, but he's not the one who is on top. "You set the pace, baby."

That in itself is enough encouragement, and you raise up on your knees right away to the musical harmony of a moan ripping out of each of you. “Fuck you feel so good,” you moan, barely keeping your eyes open as you set an even but energetic pace. It feels that good, but you want to be able to watch him.

Breathing out shakily, Marcus can't even speak. Too overcome by the pure pleasure that comes when you start to move. Rolling your hips and clenching down around him, you fit like you are perfectly molded around him. Eyes fluttering when you start to lift off his length, but then take him even deeper when you sink back down.

The sounds of sex are distinct – sloppy and wet and loud – as the two of you find a rhythm together. If you believed in Fate you’d say he felt like he was made for you, but as it is you really can barely form any thoughts at all. He fills you in a way you don’t think you’ve ever felt before and every perfect man goes straight to your clit as you ride him.

His fingers are still grazing your hip as his thumb presses against that little button that drives women crazy. Humming when he starts to work quick, small circles on top of it as you move. Wanting to match the rhythm for your pleasure. Your hands are everywhere, pulling in his hair and bracing on his shoulders, grazing down his chest and even reaching behind you to lean backward and get a slightly different angle and groaning loudly when it strikes you just right.

Letting you lead doesn’t mean that Marcus does nothing. His hips rock up every other thrust to make sure that you are impaled on his cock. Toes curling every time, he groans out your name again and again.

Curses and praises fall from your lips, punctuating the litany of moans with colorful encouragement and pleas. Every time he thrusts upward you feel like you’re going to have all of your insides rearranged, and it’s so fucking good you never want it to stop.

“Fuck. Baby.” Marcus leans forward and presses his forehead to your clavicle. “You’re taking me so well. Love it.” His mouth sometimes gets filthy when he’s lost in a moment and it’s no different today. “Pretty little pussy clamped down over my dick.”

Fucking hell. He even talks dirty. You keen in response, a moan so animated and turned the fuck on that you’re picking up the pace and pawing at your own tits in Marcus’s face. It’s beautiful to watch your tits bounce and your hands pluck at them, but he’s a hands on kind of guy and he lets go of your waist so he can lavish attention on them.

It’s an automatic switch. When his hands move to knead your tits and pluck at your nipples, you replace one of your own on his shoulder and let the other drift to your clit to run the same circles that he was just a second ago. You’re hurtling desperately close to cumming and you can’t wait to hear what dirty little praises he’s going to come out with when you clamp down on his cock even harder.

Marcus moans and groans with his nipple in your mouth. His eyes watching your fingers dance over your clit and he’s memorizing the fact that you enjoyed the way he had been touching you. His hips rocking up fast to punch up into you. Feeling you getting closer to your peak with ever gasped squeal you give him.

“So—fuck— so fucking close,” you manage between pants and moans as your body starts to lock down all at once and that coil in the base of your spine tightens beautifully like you were warning it and not just him. “Oh fuck, I’m cum—”

The second he feels you tense up, Marcus pops off your tit and his arms wind around you like steel bands. Holding you in place so he can take over. Thrusting up into you while you start to cum. “That’s it.” He hisses. “Cum for me. Soak me baby. Show me how good my cock feels.” He groans, the hard, sharp thrusts knocking his breath out but he fucks you through it, still babbling. “Like a vice, like a fucking vice. Come on baby, give me all of it.”

The filthy babbling almost breaks you, with the way that it shakes through you and makes you gasp at breaths even with how much you’re panting. Sparks flash white behind your eyes as Marcus’s hips start to stutter, and you’re vaguely aware of a stream of your own encouragements — or maybe just begging him to cum so you can see how gorgeously unwound he looks when he hits his peak. You can’t be sure which it is, or if it’s both, but either way his arms tighten around you that much more and he groans in your ear like sin incarnate.

"Fuck you're so good." Marcus breathes. "I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna fill your little pussy up." That's not going to happen because of the condom, but logistics don't exactly matter right this second. All that matters is that he's going to be buried inside you as he cums. "Fuck baby, fuck." He chokes out, giving one more thrust and grinding up into you as he whines your name into your ear. Spilling into the condom in hot waves of pleasure.

“Holy shit.” You’re the first to break into giggles, when you finally have your breath back. His arms were so tight around you at the end that you might feel a little bruised tomorrow but you can’t find it in yourself to care at all. That’s the best ride you’ve had in ages and it was only the first time.

Humming, Marcus leans in and nuzzles his nose against your neck. Panting to catch his breath. "Holy shit is right." He gives his own little giggle because he's feeling so loose and good.

“Let me know when I’m getting too heavy.” With your forehead pressed to his shoulder and the feeling very slowly returning to your extremities, you’re still not sure about moving immediately. “My legs aren’t working yet. You turned them into jelly.”

"You can stay right here as long as you want." He promises with a grin, his spent cock twitching inside you. He will have to hold to condom when he pulls out, but it's worth it. "Want me to read to you now while you recover?"

The awe and adoration in your expression when you pull back from him is unmistakable. He’s going to read to you post-coitus?! “You’re actually perfect,” you sputter out in disbelief, though you’re absolutely not saying no.

He chuckles and sends you a warm smile. "It's the least I can do," he teases, "since you did all the work." His hands slowly caress your spine and he’s enjoying the way you feel against him.

“And I’ll gladly do all the work again for round two if that’s the response I get.” Not even teasing, you nudge your nose against his and steal a kiss, savoring the taste of perspiration mixed with Marcus’s kiss.

He hums against your lips and slides his hand up to hold you in place to deepen the kiss. "Thank you." He murmurs when he pulls away. "For this. For making it easy to enjoy the best damn date I've had in a long time."

“No need to thank me.” There is so much softness in it that you melt a little bit more, nuzzling into him right there in his lap. “I’m gonna have a hell of a time trying to make sure our second date beats it.”

It makes him laugh, a giddy, carefree sound and he sigh happily. "We should just keep it going then." He decides. "That way we don't have to think of ideas to top this."

You could float away on the sound of his laugh, just reveling in this joyful energy. All the same, you pull back again and find his eyes carefully. “You asking me to stay the night, handsome?”

"What kind of date would I be if I sent you home when your legs are Jello?" He asks playfully, leaning in and nudging your nose with his. "Especially since it's my fault."

“Fault. Generous gift. Same thing.” You both grin, indulging in more kisses until you’re sighing into him all over again. “In that case, I think we should go upstairs,” you murmur. “Read in bed until we either want to go again or fall asleep.”

"Do you want some water?" He asks softly, knowing you might be thirsty after all that work. "I can get you some before we go up?"

“Perfect gentleman.” You hum softly, knowing you need to climb out of his lap but wanting one more kiss first. “Water would be amazing.”

He gives you another lingering kiss, smiling against your lips when you start to pout as you lift off of him. He slides his hand between you to hold the base of his cock, keeping the condom from moving. "Good. My room is the last door on the left." He tells you. "I'll be up in just a second, as soon as I get rid of the condom and get some water."

"Okay." Even though you pause to gather up your stuff, you don't bother getting dressed. Sauntering upstairs naked has an air of comfort and unexpected sexiness to it that you can't deny, but you do stop off in the bathroom to do the extremely unsexy task of cleaning up and having a quick pee. By the time you get out, you barely have a second to slip under the covers before Marcus appears in the doorway.

"Bottle of water, like the lady ordered." Marcus put away the cheeseboard and wine, gathering up his own clothes before coming upstairs. He wants to make sure you are comfortable. Grinning, he walks over in his boxers to hand you the water. "Need anything else, sweetheart?"

"A little company, that's all." Did he manage to get more attractive in the less than five minutes you were apart? That's wholly unfair.

"Company I can definitely provide." He smirks slightly as he walks around the bed to climb in beside you. "Comfortable? Need another pillow?"

"Not gonna lie." As he slides in next to you, you move toward him like a magnet. "I was kind of hoping for a human pillow."

"That's my favorite type of pillow to be." His arms open up to let you settle against him. "Especially when I'm going to read to you."

"Absolutely perfect," you murmur happily, laying your head down on his chest as he picks up the book. Tonight really was, without a doubt, the best date you've ever had. You're going to have to do a hell of a job hosting the next book club meeting as a thank you.

He picks up reading again, basically just starting over. Keeping his voice low and the only light is from the lamp on his bedside table. Letting the atmosphere stay intimate. It might be the first date, but it was going to hopefully the last first date he has.

______

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

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#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #The Mentalist #Mentalist fanfic #blind date

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seat-safety-switch · 3 months

Text

Remember the mall? There's still one near my place, but it's kept in sort of a weird hermetically-sealed bubble. Scientists say they can't allow the people inside to leave because it is the last of its kind. They wanna study it. They have a candle store, so let's go.

Why am I so interested in candles lately? Hard to say. I've been pretty stressed right now, with the court case and all. Yeah, that court case too, now that you mention it. Don't remember that third one, though. I'm gonna need another candle to get through this.

What the candle symbolizes, really, is man's victory over fire. Over the elements. Just like trying to capture the perfect moment of retail capitalism nanoseconds before the complete destruction of everything around it. They still got an Orange Julius in there, I hear, but you can only use a research drone to look at it.

How am I going to get the candles out when I buy them? There's a little chute, the robots put them in there. You can't open it when one of the workers is nearby, though, because they see the hole in the side of the world. Start to realize that they haven't left in months, that they fall asleep at the end of their shift, wake up at the start of the next one. Forever, or at least until the scientists figure out what happened and can synthesize a cure for the other malls.

Government started pumping some kind of drug in there so they don't notice after the first group got violent and turned the Dick's Sporting Goods against who they thought was an embedded researcher. Turns out it was just an elevator repairman. They're smarter about these things now, but it means that you have to sometimes wait a few hours for your candles to come out.

There: Yankee Help Us, We Had Families Once. Little bit of an unusual name, but with the economy being what it is today, you gotta make some bold moves to stand out in the market.

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saerins · 7 months

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PREV: #002 PLAYING DOMINO 𖧧 #003 THE FIRST RIPPLE 𖧧 NEXT: #004 THIS SPARK, IS IT REAL? ꒰ series masterlist ꒱

꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — ever since the first meeting, you’ve proven to be an anomaly. and yet again, sae finds himself out of character, doing things he didn’t think he would.

content: itoshi sae x female reader. angst/fluff, profanity, physical/verbal abuse, violence, mentions of infidelity, broken homes, unrequited love, manipulation/gaslighting. word count: 6.7k

༝༚༝༚ more yn and sae for this chapter yay !! ty to all of you who are reading this heh mwah you guys are my motivation <3 let’s hope i keep this pace up so some of you can get the tea faster :p

somehow, the fact that you’d managed to help land an interview with itoshi sae has given you some perks at work. (you’d let sumi take the credit for it, but considering your voice is on the recording, it was hard to deny your involvement.) the best of it all? sumi’s right; mr tatsuji is so absolutely pleased that he barely bothers to visit your department to chide any of you.

that way, at least if your personal life is a mess, your career is not. (for now.)

after three days of staying over at eita’s, you’re finally lugging your feet back home today. besides, he has a date and you’re not about to play third wheel when he inevitably comes home with her.

that’s otoya eita for you.

he insisted that it’s fine and if he really wanted to get some that he’d bring her to a hotel, but you’d really rather not get used to putting up at someone else’s house. especially when, technically, you do have a place to stay.

as you unwillingly (and slowly, painachingly) trudge back to your apartment, you can’t help but revisit your messages with sae. ever since you told him you’d let him follow you if he made a private account, he hasn’t responded since.

were you just in over your head? maybe he was just bored and was passing time by texting you. maybe he didn’t really mean it. maybe someone else took his phone and texted you just to make fun of you.

time to time, you still think of the night you met, how his eyes fluttered close, how he stayed rooted in position, how you would’ve actually done it out of curiosity if it wasn’t for the fact that it was a public place with cameras littering every few inches of space.

you sigh, locking your phone and tossing it back in your purse. in the end, maybe itoshi sae really is just someone for you to admire from afar. maybe that’s for the best; you can’t imagine how it’d even feel like dating someone who has such a big spotlight cast on him.

the evening air is chilly, the lights of the nearby shopping mall a warm golden, the sea of people walking past you soon to drown out. if you didn’t know better, you’d think you’re living a privileged life—being able to live in such a nice district, with a better-than-average apartment that had been fully paid for since you were born. and if life had been kind to you, then maybe you’d like living at home more than you do now.

but as it is, going home only serves as a reminder to all your problems. unescapable, unavoidable, unbearable. and maybe it’s not such a good move for you to depend on eita a lot to be your escape, to help you forget about all of it, at least when you’re with him, but you can’t help it. escapism feels nice. it’s nice to be around someone who knows about it and still accepts you, even though you and him don’t see eye to eye about it most of the time.

your stomach’s growling, and the macarons at the bakery’s display that you walk past are both nostalgic and tempting. but you can’t afford that.

something as simple as a box of macarons.

hang in there for the long term, you tell yourself. one day, you’ll get everything back.

not ten minutes later, you’re at your own doorstep, hesitating to even enter. through the door you can hear the sound of the television. it’s loud and playing some drama that always airs at this timing. you’ve heard the same voices so many times before.

it’s funny to think that these sounds used to feel like home to you.

either way, you have to get this over and done with, so you slot your key in and walk through the door, carefully toeing off your shoes as though being quiet would make you escape her notice.

“and where did you go off to the last few days? can’t even come home and be a dutiful daughter and eat with her own mother?”

it hasn’t even been five seconds.

all that ever awaits you at home now is the vile spit of your mother’s. it’s laughable because all she says is nonsense. you haven’t eaten on the same table together in years, even if you have been living under the same roof.

some part of you can’t help but be defiant. you know it’s a bad idea, but she’s out of line, and yet you’re still helping her. and you can’t figure out why.

“how about you be a dutiful mother and stop spending all your daughter’s money and go find a job?”

there’s a sharp sound that bounces off the walls of the living room quicker than you can expect it, and it takes you five seconds and the sting on your cheek to realise your mother had just slapped you with all her might.

not an ounce of hesitation or regret. there is only fury in her eyes as she looks down at you, summoning every bit of disdain she can muster.

of course, how could you forget? this is what you get for talking back to her. it’s been a while since she’d last laid a hand on you, so maybe you’d gotten cocky, thinking she wouldn’t do it again.

“is this all you’re good for? you’re not using that filthy mouth to jack people off so you’re using it to spite me?”

there’s a lot you want to say.

you want to talk back to her again, to say that she’s the useless one out of the two of you. the one who doesn’t work yet gambles all day. the one who spent all the savings and insurance money so she’s fully depending on you month to month.

you want to tell her that you’re not some whore who goes around fucking everyone you see. she always hated eita, but that’s because he knows she’s no good. that’s also why you never tell him if she lays her hand on you. you don’t want to get them into any altercations. you also want to tell her eita’s taken better care of you than she ever has, and you don’t even have to jack him off for it.

but you stay silent.

because silence is the most comfortable you can get with her. no matter what you say or do, it will never suffice for her. she wants money, and she’s only angry because you haven’t been home to give it to her. it’s why you lock your own door every time you head out or go to sleep. you don’t want to find your own belongings gone by the time you’re back. neither do you want to find her snooping around your room in the middle of the night.

both of which have happened before.

taking advantage of your shock, she yanks your purse out of your hand, fishing for your wallet and grabbing all the cash she can find before tossing it back to you.

there’s no mercy in her eyes as she glares at her own daughter, the one she carried herself in her womb for nine whole months and once sworn to love. and now she blames the same little girl for ruining her body and refuses to take responsibility for her.

“listen, be a good girl and just give me what i ask for okay?” her tone is nothing but condescending and threatening. “if you’d just behave yourself, i wouldn’t have to do shit like that. think a little, would you?”

the demon that is your mother speaks as if you’re in the wrong, sighing to herself as she lights a cigarette and walks away, stuffing your hard-earned money in her purse before making for her room and slamming the door as she completely disposes of you for the day. she already got what she wanted, after all.

utterly defeated, you completely forget about your hunger, retreating into your room, locking the door behind you and falling to the floor. your vision blurs and your cheek still stings. you wonder if it’ll leave a mark like it did the last time.

your phone vibrates once.

blurry vision aside, you can tell it’s eita from the name alone. his talk to me if you need anything, okay? is bright on your phone screen, the only light in this room because you don’t have the energy to turn on the lights. you’re not feeling exceptionally hopeful today. the dark seems just right.

you’re thankful that you have a friend like him. you probably don’t deserve how nice he is to you. but you don’t want to talk to him. you don’t think you want to talk to anyone.

maybe just one person.

but he’s six foot under and inaccessible to you.

you’re not sure when you made it onto your bed—your head’s a mess. it always is when you speak to her. that’s why you scream into the pillow, willing your energy away, trying to drown your thoughts with your voice, dreaming of the day you can break free from this cycle.

thunder, pitter patter, raindrops against the windowsill.

the lightning helps you make out the time from the clock on the wall above your door.

1am. your lips are chapped and the tears are dry against your cheeks. you’d subconsciously slept on the right side, your left still aching from earlier.

slowly, you get up, legs crossed and sitting on your bed, your earlier distress dissipated just slightly, mind a little clearer. (and always questionable.) your phone’s dead and you honestly don’t really care—what you do care about is your stomach’s incessant growling.

it wouldn’t take a genius to know that your mother cleared out all the food in the kitchen. it looked barren earlier from what you could see, maybe just a couple slices of bread and some condiments. you wouldn’t want to start cooking in the middle of the night either, lest she wakes up and you have even more to deal with.

the rain starts to lighten up by the time you’re out of the house, comfortable in your oversized windbreaker. you walk slowly, your slides already soaked from walking in the rain. it’s a nice cooling temperature, the wind in your face making you feel refreshed, like everything that’s horrible could be just a dream.

if only.

a light ten-minute walk later, you’re browsing through the aisles of the convenience store, wondering which brand of processed food is worthy to be your dinner. you hover between the cup noodles on the shelves and the sandwiches in the chiller, taking your time because home is not a place you’re exactly aching to go back to.

can you even call it a home at this point?

eventually, you waltz out of there with a warm tub of noodles, palms relishing in its warmth and your nose inhaling every last bit of its aroma.

dinner could be better, but you suppose you can’t complain when you’re trying your best to save up. after all, it’ll be a pain if your mother figures out the stash of savings you’re hiding. the last thing you want is for her to steal that away from you. then how would you ever move out on your own?

shaking your head as you settle down on a park bench on the opposite side of the road, you decide to throw those thoughts aside for now. it’s not a current problem that you need to mull over right now and destroy your mood. no, right now, what you need is just a peaceful night.

what’s past (earlier) is past.

even though it’s easier said than done when your tears start flowing one by one, and suddenly these noodles are saltier than you remember.

“sure you can’t come?”

sae looks at bianca through the passenger side window, her pout ever present. “nah, i’m tired. besides, if i oversleep who’s gonna drive you to the airport, huh?”

bianca grins at him, seemingly pacified. she reaches a hand into the car, perfectly manicured nails in full view before she clenches it into a fist, holding just a pinky out. “promise you’ll see me off tomorrow?”

there’s something between the lines that sae doesn’t get, nor is he sure he wants to. in all honesty, he’s not even sure why a promise is wanted here but he sticks out his pinky all the same anyway, because he’s pretty sure he won’t miss the alarm when it rings.

“yay, see you!”

“see you,” sae echoes as she bounds towards her friend’s place, ready for a last night of catching up over a game of cards before she flies back to america. as she disappears from his view, he wonders why she even tried to invite him in the first place. they’re her friends, he’s not really needed there anyway.

tuning out of those thoughts, sae drives off, already planning the remainder of the night. it’s 1am, and it’ll be near two by the time he makes it back to his apartment. that leaves him around a six hour sleep before he has to get up and send bianca off.

now that he’s thinking about it, since when has it become routine for him to send her off every time?

before he can even gather his thoughts about it, he steps on the brakes abruptly, wondering what the hell is wrong with some people to not be looking at both sides of the road before they cross, nearly pressing on the honk before something tells him not to. it’s distracting; the fact that the passing silhouette looks familiar and yet not at all.

against his better judgement, he pulls over by the side of the road, deciding to trust his gut. it’s late at night and there’s no reason for it but is that really you sitting on a park bench eating cup noodles past one in the morning? alone?

sae steps out of the car, mask on, pulling his hat down and his hoodie over his head to conceal himself, though some might argue he looks like he’s about to kidnap someone like this. he’s painfully aware this is dumb, and there’s no point to this, because what if it is you? it’s not like he has any reason to talk to you.

he stops midway, checking his phone and scrolling to your messages, his okay still sitting in the text box, unsent. fuck, he didn’t even realise until now. it didn’t help that he had a hectic schedule back to back for the past few days either. he never got around to creating that private account. he’ll just have to do it later.

a fleeting thought comes to him, wondering if you thought he was just pulling your leg about wanting to follow you. sure seems like it to him.

but he continues walking towards that park bench, towards that girl he thinks might be you, without knowing whatsoever what his next move will be. all he knows is that if that really is you, he’d rather say hello than say nothing at all.

even if it means making a detour that would undoubtedly make him endlessly tired the next day. for some reason.

and call him crazy, but as he draws closer, even without seeing your face, he knows it’s you somehow.

there’s something off about you, he doesn’t know what it is yet, but he can feel it. maybe he’ll find out. maybe he’ll try.

“hey, rude girl.”

just by the way your body stiffens up, he knows you recognise his voice. you choke on your noodles, coughing a little and rubbing your face before you whip your head upwards to face him, your eyes going wide with surprise.

“itoshi sae?”

why doesn’t he like it when you call him by his full name? it sounds weird, but he keeps his mouth shut.

“what are you doing here? do you live in the area?” you ask, setting your almost-empty cup of noodle on the bench. your voice is a little hoarse than he remembers, and your eyes are slightly puffy. there’s a faint swollenness on your left cheek, something he can see you’re desperately trying to hide behind your hair. it’s not really working.

he shakes his head, hands in his jacket pocket. “no, i was just dropping my friend off.” his eyes shift from you to the noodles. “supper?”

sae notices your eyebrow twitch ever so slightly, your nostrils flaring a little before you grin at him. “yeah, i missed lunch so this is me making up for it,” you giggle, offering a thumbs up.

is it bad to say he doesn’t believe you? you’re alone in the middle of the night on a park bench eating instant noodles with a slightly swollen cheek. yet you’re in front of him acting like nothing’s wrong.

this is already far from what he’d usually do. if you were anyone else, he would’ve just drove past and forgotten in a few days that he ever saw them. but as it is, here he is, standing in front of you, car parked illegally by the curb, just to verify that it really is you for no apparent reason.

still, he’s glad he did. you look like you’ve gotten a year’s worth of bad news judging by the state you’re in. and sae usually doesn’t cater to people, expects people to tell him what they need, not make him guess, but he’s already guessing what you might need.

your stomach is still growling, though you’re trying to hide it by slumping on the bench, arms over your stomach. sae has no idea why you feel like you have to hide, or who probably slapped you in the first place, but he finds himself disposing of your noodles before he’s grabbing you gently by the hand, tugging you along with him.

“hey, uh, where are we going?”

despite your shallow hesitation, sae feels your fingers curl around his palm. his heart skips a beat. he stops in his tracks, turning back around to face you. there’s an inexplicable emotion stirring inside him when he looks into your eyes.

his free hand comes up to remove his cap, putting it over your head and pushing it down to fit better. he doesn’t have a mask for you, but it’ll do. something tells him you don’t really want other people to see your face right now. and while the circumstances are different, he supposes he understands how it feels.

maybe you think he’s doing this because he’d rather not be papped with a girl, rather not have any more dating rumours. he’ll let you keep thinking that. he’ll keep acting like he doesn’t see the wound you’re desperately trying to hide.

for now.

“i’m hungry, eat with me,” is all he tells you before he resumes dragging you along behind him, calloused hands wrapping over your own.

sae’s not hungry in the least. he’d eaten probably three meals worth of food with bianca before this since she’d dragged him to a korean barbecue joint.

but you’re hungry. you’re starving and you’re not acting like it and you don’t say a thing about it—he doesn’t really get you.

he wants to.

maybe that’s why he’s doing all this. maybe that’s why he lets you in his car, drives to an izakaya he knows all too well. maybe that’s why he keeps stealing glances at you in the car, and maybe that’s why he feels a little warm inside when he catches you smiling to yourself.

as you sit silently beside him as he drives, your fingers fiddle nervously with each other. never did you think that you’d end up in sae’s luxurious car tonight of all nights. as if it wasn’t apparent enough before, after seeing his car, this definitely looks like a life that’s far beyond your reach.

you wonder if sae is the type of person who likes cars. it’s never indicated anywhere if he is. you recognise the brand; you don’t know the exact model but it’s a maserati, wrapped a matte black, at that. the interior leather seats are comfortable, and his air freshener smells nice.

on top of that, he’s driving you to someplace because he’s hungry too. talk about luck and coincidence.

you were thinking of just taking a short walk before going back home, but you’d take his invitation over that any day. you’re not sure where he’s taking you, but your feet are tapping in anticipation, though you hope it’s not anywhere expensive because you’re definitely not dressed the part.

beside you, sae’s not exactly dressed in anything fancy, but with looks like that? he would look expensive dressed in anything.

“quit staring,” sae mumbles, and you hurriedly avert your gaze, embarrassed at getting caught although you snicker a little when you catch the hint of a blush creeping up his cheeks. “what are you laughing at?”

you try to suppress a grin, biting on your lower lip. “you’re not as uncaring as the internet makes you seem,” you ponder out loud.

sae accepts your train of thought. he’s well aware that’s how he comes off in real life too. “and?” it’s a red light so he stops the car, turning his head to look straight at you.

is he asking you what you think of him?

you feel your heart skip a beat. he’s pretty, and he’s staring at you with those clear teal eyes of his and it makes you want to drown in them for some reason. he’s not as unfeeling as he comes across, and for him to bother taking you with him just to eat must mean you don’t fall into the category of people he finds to be just a waste of time.

you want to know what this is.

“i don’t know, you’re like a cat,” you shrug, reverting back to your unserious self. “but i’ll let you know again once i get to know you better, itoshi sae.”

he looks away, the green light barely seeping through his windows. he doesn’t understand. “if you even get that far, that is.” (he likes how you already assume you’ll get to know him more. are you looking to spend more time with him?)

you grin, making an internal bet with yourself. “just you wait,” you tell him, confident in your abilities. “i have a habit of growing on people.”

(sae chuckles internally, because he doesn’t doubt you. you already are.)

“are you sure this place is open?” you ask, discreetly tapping lightly on your cheeks, deciding that maybe you look just fine now. and it doesn’t seem like there’s a soul here anyway.

once sae parks his car into the lot, you take his cap off and look around, the sleek stand-alone three-storey building looking completely closed on the outside. there’s no other cars parked here—surely they’re not still open?

sae takes his keys out of the ignition, stuffing it into his jacket pocket. he looks nonchalant for the most part. “don’t worry, i know the owner, let’s go.”

you shrug to yourself, placing his cap neatly on the dashboard before getting up. he waits and observes as you get out of his car, making sure you’re beside him before he starts walking towards the restaurant. you notice him matching your pace, with you shamelessly adjusting it just to check.

before he enters through the doors, he looks at you, “there’s no one else around. just the owner’s nephew who’ll be cooking for us.”

the shopkeeper’s bell chimes as he makes his way inside, holding the door for you, and you wordlessly enter, even though you’re wondering why he feels the need to tell you that. is it because you look like a mess and he thought you’d care?

it’s cosy and warm inside, classical music filling the air, every table wiped spotlessly clean that they’re shining as the lights from the ceiling bounce off of their surfaces. there’s nobody you can see here, are they in the kitchen?

sae puts his fingers around your wrist this time, walking you through the restaurant, meandering expertly like he’s been here a thousand times. your eyes fall to his fingers; they’re gentle yet firm, and you’re only hoping he doesn’t realise how fast your pulse is right now.

in the end, you find yourself seated across from him on a tatami seating in a private room, browsing through the menus that are already placed on the table.

“order anything you want,” sae says, not looking up from his menu.

you hum in excitement as you start to really look at all the options you have. “oh? if you say it like that i’m not gonna hold back, you know,” you joke around, though sae doesn’t really sense it.

he just shrugs, “sure, go ahead.”

sae ends up regretting it though, not because you’re shamelessly spending a lot on his card, but because he finds out you’re the type to over-order. by the time the food is all cooked and sent to the table, sae’s eyebrows twitch, eyes flicking over across the room to look at you, grinning from ear to ear.

“both of you must be starved, huh?”

you look to the side, only now noticing the guy in the white chef’s coat that came to deliver the food. he has curly light brown hair, with eyes a shade or two darker. a grin is plastered on his face, and by the way sae speaks to him, it seems like they know each other quite a fair bit.

“oh, by the way, this is naruhaya,” sae introduces to you, and the guy holds his hand out for you to shake. “this is y/n.”

“nice to meet you!”

naruhaya’s beaming, a contrast to sae’s usual stoic expressions, but he’s back to small talk with the latter in a second. you leave them to it, until your ears perk up when he mentions a certain model’s name.

“hey, weren’t you with bianca earlier? where’s she?”

bianca—that name isn’t unfamiliar to you. after a crash course from sumi (because somehow she decided you need to know more gossip about itoshi sae after getting to know him in person), you had learned that she’s the model that sae is most rumoured to actually be with. and you’ve seen her from the pictures sumi shoved up your neck—she’s beautiful.

was she the friend he was dropping off earlier?

“meeting her other friends. anyway, sorry to keep you open.”

naruhaya waves it off with his hand. “it’s fine, i was gonna stay and try to whip up some new recipes anyway,” he says, before shooting you a knowing look. what exactly it means, you have zero idea. “i’ll leave you two to it, enjoy!”

once he leaves, you begin to dig in, lathering your meat with sauce, unashamedly inhaling your food because that earlier stint with your mother was entirely too much and you need to destress.

somehow, with sae being as nice as he is, you feel a teeny bit guilty for trying to dupe him into that interview. but you doubt that if you’d asked him normally that you would be here with him tonight so maybe there’s some merit in being reckless like that.

“what’re you smiling about now?” sae sighs, taking a piece of meat and putting it over his rice. “pleased that you’re getting a free meal or something?”

partly. but mostly, you’re pleased that you get alone time with him somehow. maybe it’s stupid, and maybe you sound like half of the female population in the country, but you can see why people ogle over him. if they got to know him like this, then you’d have no doubt that he’d manage to charm their pants off.

though, something tells you he doesn’t treat people like this often, let alone someone he barely knows.

“mhm,” you agree, shit-eating grin on your face because there’s no way you’re going to be so upfront about it. the last thing you want is to ruin a friendship when it’s barely started.

yeah, maybe that’s what you want—friendship. is it weird if you say that itoshi sae gives you the feeling that you can trust him? the last time someone made you feel that way was eita. but somehow, this time, it feels different in a way you can’t explain.

as you’re both digging in, you ask him whatever you’re curious about; how he got into soccer, what his life was like growing up, everything under the sun, only because he entertains you like he did that very first night.

“you ask a lot of questions, are you gonna ask me to get another interview approved or something?” he asks, deadpan as he slurps up the soba.

you chuckle, shaking your head. “no. i just want to know you.”

sae stills at your honesty, this being one of the rare times you’re wearing your heart on your sleeve. thump, thump, thump—it’s weird how you make him so aware of his heartbeats when you’re with him. it’s weird how he feels the same way.

then, he sees a familiar sight, you reaching your hand out across the table, your pinky pointed towards him. “i promise you, no hidden agendas this time.”

he swallows the lump in his throat, hooking his pinky with yours before he knows it, the inexplicable emotions only growing by the second.

even though he’s curious about you too, something tells him that you won’t answer him seriously. not tonight. so he keeps it to himself. he’ll find a chance to ask you next time.

if there is a next time.

he’ll just have to make it happen.

halfway through the dinner, you have about a quarter of the food left and sae looks like he’s about to burst. he didn’t really look hungry to you, eating slowly all the way. you probably ate at least twice as much as he did.

“you sure you were hungry?”

“not anymore,” sae deflects, putting his chopsticks down. he looks at you, leaning back and staring at the leftovers in awe. he almost snorts from how dazed you look. “i’ll get naruhaya to pack these, wait here.”

“thanks,” you call after him, knowing just how much of a food coma you’re going to be in once you’re back home.

sae stares at his phone as he navigates through the corridors to find the kitchen; it’s already 2.30am. time passes really fast with you for some reason. usually it’s a bore to sit with people he barely knows, they normally can’t keep a conversation. either that or he doesn’t really click with them. (as evident in the many times he was put in the same room with friends of friends and all that was there is awkward silence and forced conversations.)

not you though.

you’ve always been interesting. you’re intriguing, and a little bit more daring than he’s used to. you’re not that shy, by what he could tell when you so effortlessly reached across the table and snapped a picture of the both of you eating, telling him you want to give him something to remember you by.

as if that’s your last meeting.

he looks at the picture in his photo album. a subtle smile tugs on his lips, and there’s a flutter in his heart that he can’t seem to ignore.

maybe he’s jumping the gun but… he thinks you could be worth any amount of sleep he’s going to lose.

naruhaya enters the private room alone, armed with takeaway boxes, and you smile sheepishly at him as he does. sae must be in the bathroom if he’s here alone.

“sorry, i think i ordered a little too much,” you apologise, rubbing the back of your head. “but it’s all really delicious, really.”

it really is. you’ve never had meat so tender before, and you’re almost sad thinking you’ll probably never get to eat this again. not with the price tag on it.

“relax, i believe you,” naruhaya hums as he carefully places the leftovers in boxes. “so, how’d you get to know sae? photoshoot?”

you narrow your gaze at him, pressing your lips into a faint smile. “if you’re trying to flatter me, it’s working,” you joke, before shaking your head. “no, no, i’m not a model. i’m just a friend of a friend.”

naruhaya blinks at you like he’s surprised. “whose?”

“eita. otoya eita. why?”

“oh, it’s nothing. just… surprised sae brought another girl here for once,” naruhaya laughs nervously, packing the boxes into a clear bag. “usually it’s either oliver and gang or, well, bianca. but i haven’t seen her here in a while, actually.”

you get the feeling that sae and bianca are really, really close.

“i think he just came here on a whim,” you brush it off. “we only met a week ago so i doubt you’ll see me here again anyway.”

naruhaya’s mouth forms an ‘o’, before it reverts back to that knowing smile again. both of you hear footsteps against the wooden floors of the izakaya, so naruhaya takes this chance to whisper in your ear.

“i think… you must be pretty special then, huh?”

before you can even ask him what he means by that, sae strolls through the door, oblivious to the earlier conversation, gaze pointed to you. “ready to go?”

you nod, taking the bags from naruhaya as sae escorts you out of there. “bye, naruhaya! i love your cooking!”

he laughs as you wave enthusiastically to him, and he winks at you right before sae turns around to look at him. “oi, sae, bring her over anytime, okay?” to which sae only waves it off, leaving you to wonder if you’ll ever actually see naruhaya again.

“you keep those,” sae tells you after the both of you get into his car, referring to the takeaway boxes. he’d told naruhaya to give you some extra meat, just in case. if he remembered right, eita once said you have quite the appetite.

he pulls out of the parking lot after you give him your address, driving the speed limit all the way back. he’s honestly kind of tired, and he can see that you are too. won’t hurt to make it back a little quicker than you came.

“sure you don’t want some?”

“i’m fine, i’ll be busy for the next week or so anyway. i won’t even be home.”

there’s a hint of disappointment in your chest when you hear that, though you chide yourself for your wishful thinking. what makes you think you can run into a celebrity so easily anyway if he is in japan?

“oh, you’re gonna be away? try not to miss me.”

sae chuckles, softly, at the way you can be so unserious—it’s something you hear for the first time, and you feel the flutters in your heart going wild. there’s something about the way he looks so gentle like this, away from the cameras and the public eye that makes him so much more alluring than usual.

“i’ll try,” he says, though you know he’s just playing along.

usually, you don’t feel this type of way around people. you’ve never felt like this before so you can’t even think of ways to explain it. as you sit in the passenger seat, you can’t help but feel a certain attachment growing. it makes you think foolish things like i want to see you again and wonder about even sillier things like would you want to see me too?

but you’d never actually tell him that.

when your apartment comes into view, you grab at his cap on the dashboard, putting it on your head yourself this time, looking into the side mirror. “hm, think this looks better on me, what do you think?”

sae’s a little stunned at the sudden question. you have a way of making him exasperated—in all the good ways. “wanna keep it?” he’s guessing that’s where you’re headed. not that he minds.

“oooh, then maybe i get to sell it for a buttload of money. especially when i tell people it belonged to you,” you smirk, and sae finds himself wondering why your guard is up so high.

he starts driving a little slowly, starting to feel the reluctance brewing inside him. “it’s yours now, do whatever you want with it.” he knows you’re not actually going to sell it anyway. he might not have known you for long, but he thinks you’re not that kind of person.

he’ll bet on it.

you don’t say anymore about it, and he catches you with a blank stare straight ahead, aimed at your apartment.

does it have something to do with your family? was that why you were unhappy earlier?

sae can’t shake the feeling of wanting to know more about you. but you snap back to your usual self before he can do anything about it.

“anyway! don’t worry about tonight, i won’t tell a soul that a superstar like you took a nobody like me out for a romantic supper in a private room,” you tell him, winking as you place your hands on the door handle, ready to go.

sae nearly laughs. “can’t you say thank you like a normal person?” because by now, the both of you are comfortable enough to understand that nothing is ever said in hostility. you take it as his banter.

somehow, your hand finds itself back onto your lap, and the words haven’t left your lips. there’s no music in the car, so it’s just you and sae and the air between you, a tension looming in the air that you can’t ignore. there’s just silence as you observe him from your position, your head inching closer, ever so slowly it feels like you’re not even moving at all. you can see how sae’s gaze flickers from your eyes to the tip of your nose and then to your lips, and you think of how he looks almost like he did that night when you got close to him.

except this time, you’re really tempted. you’re alone, just the both of you, and he’s been really nice and you’re really tempted to feel how soft those lips are and what he tastes like. but that’s too much, and yet somehow his eyes feel like they’re telling you different. would he mind?

your fingers pull the cap down from your head, covering both your faces as there’s barely any space between you now.

maybe just something tame.

in one swift motion, your lips press against his cheek, a hurried thank you rolling off your tongue before you bolt out of the car and back to your apartment, hoping that sae doesn’t think you’re a complete psycho for doing that.

back in the car, sae freezes in position even after you’ve long vanished from his sight. his heart’s still beating wildly in his chest and he wonders what the hell just happened.

and then he finds himself questioning when it could happen again.

why does he want it to happen again?

before he starts the drive back, he does three things.

one, he fishes his phone out of his pocket and creates that account he forgot about. two, he sends you a follow request because he doesn’t think he can handle this curiosity anymore. and three, he opens your messages, breathing shallow as he tries to make plans for the first time.

an hour later, after you’re showered and your heart has calmed down, you check your phone, charged to full now on your bedside table. there’s a few messages from sumi and eita that you missed since it had been dead since before you left the house, and then your heart skips a beat when you realise that sae’s name is there as well.

for the first time in a long time, you go to bed feeling like a giggly high school girl who’s been asked out by her crush. and for the first time in forever, sae receives your message and finds that he can’t sleep now—wondering why he felt so relieved to finally get a text back, and wondering what this frantic rush of his heart really means.

extras !

no, sae did not get up late to meet bianca the next day. he did look extremely tired though, which made her suspicious and ask why—sae did not reveal anything, just said he couldn’t sleep. partly true.

sae was right; if he’d asked yn about herself that night (particularly anything pertaining to her family), she wouldn’t have answered seriously. there’s a reason why she won’t so easily divulge her family issues & doesn’t want sae to know about it.

yn genuinely believes that sae did not notice anything off about her and that he honestly thought she was fine.

otoya did end up bringing his date to a hotel. after she fell asleep, otoya went out to the balcony to call yn and make sure she’s okay since she wasn’t responding.

yn’s mother knows that yn and otoya used to fuck (and still thinks they are), and that’s why she used her choice of words “jacking people off”. she has been treating yn like that for the past few years.

random fact #1: otoya used to purposely get yn in trouble all the time in school so that they could spend time in detention together. that’s how they started getting close.

random fact #2: sae has, in his head, considered being together with bianca before because the guys asked him about it.

taglist! @yuzurins @saeskiss @raphsimp @lust4rin @mxplesyrvp @chieeeeeee @yumekolovesyukimiya @kunirayuna39 @auranny @sereniteav @gskill @saesgrl @riseena @rikijbol @sagejin @shironagi

#bllk x reader #sae x reader #itoshi sae x reader #blue lock x reader #sae x y/n #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #sae x you #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #itoshi sae #itoshi sae fluff #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #bllk imagines #itoshi sae imagines #૪ aeri’s fics !

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sparkle-fiend · 2 years

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Fruity Four Advent Calendar, Day 21: “Midwinter Night”

When they come across the tree in Walmart, Eddie practically starts to vibrate with excitement. "We gotta get it, Steve, please. Please, please, please. I need that tree."

They're shopping for decorations for their first ever apartment together, and they do need a tree, but... "Why that one?" It's obviously artificial, 7 ft tall and solid white.

"We never had space for a real tree, so Wayne got a little plastic one that fit on the coffee table. It looked just like this one." Eddie waves his hand at the tree in question, like a magician showing off a trick. "I loved that thing."

Looking at his boyfriend's bright, hopeful face, Steve easily concedes.

They add some ornaments, a string of rainbow-colored lights, and a tinsel star to complete the recreation of Eddie's childhood tree.

Once it’s all set up, they stand back and admire the way the lights shine pink, blue, yellow, and green against the white branches. It does look pretty; plus, Steve’s father would hate it - which adds to the appeal.

(Sometimes the flash of colored light makes his heart race, bringing to mind the memory of a charging demogorgon, or the burst of fireworks against melted flesh in the atrium of Starcourt mall - but Steve ignores it. It'll be fine.)

It is fine... until it's not.

***

Steve comes home, tired and feeling the start of a migraine. He heads through the living room toward the kitchen, intending to grab some water and a Tylenol - when the upstairs neighbor cuts on a vacuum. The muted roar doesn't sound much like a demogorgon, but with the Christmas lights twinkling nearby it's enough to trip something in Steve's weary brain.

He's not in their apartment anymore. He's in the dimly lit hallway of the Byers' house, the smell of gasoline burning in his nose. The lights are flashing, which means the monster is coming - but he doesn't have his bat. He fumbles around the coffee table, searching... it was just here a minute ago, right? His heart is pounding like a drum, pulse rushing loud enough to muffle the voice calling his name.

"Steve? Steve?!"

He can't tell if it's Nancy or Jonathan, but they sound frightened. "Hold on Nance!"

Warm hands grip him by the shoulders. "STEVE!!"

If he doesn't find that bat they're going to die, and it'll be his fault... all his fault...

"Please baby, come back to me. It's okay - you're okay."

It's not Nancy or Jonathan. Not Robin or Dustin or Erica calling his name.

It's Eddie leaning over him, dark curls falling like a curtain over Steve's face. His cheek is smudged, and for a second Steve thinks it's blood. They're back in the Upside Down and Eddie is bleeding out under his hands...

"Steve," Eddie says softly. He's warm and healthy, wounds sealed into scars; and the smudge on his cheek is just sauce.

Because he was in the kitchen cooking dinner. Steve can smell it now, sausage and tomato and garlic.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Eddie asks gently.

Steve tries to explain without mentioning the lights, but Eddie knows him too well. He asks just the right questions to work it all out, and the look of guilt that crosses his face hurts worse than a blow to the head.

Eddie gets up and goes to the tree, yanking the plug from the wall and plunging the room into gloomy darkness. "Ed, you don't have to do that..."

"I do Steve, I absolutely do.”

Steve sighs. It's the night of the winter solstice - the longest, darkest night of the year. It'll be even darker with the tree stripped of lights. "At least wait until tomorrow."

Eddie pauses his task of carefully unwinding the light strands from the tree without disturbing the ornaments. "Come here." He tugs Steve off the floor and maneuvers him onto the sofa.

"Lay down for a minute, okay? I got this." He fetches a cool cloth and a glass of water, along with the Tylenol Steve originally meant to find.

"What about dinner?"

"It's done. I'll just pop it in the fridge, and we can eat when you're feeling better."

Steve wants to protest, but the pain in his temples has escalated to a blinding pitch. He agrees to close his eyes for just a minute - drifting off to the sound of Eddie humming softly in the background.

He wakes to the same sound and assumes that only a few minutes have passed; until he sees the clock. "Two hours? Shit, you shouldn't have let me sleep so long!"

Eddie shrugs. "You needed it. Besides, I had to run an errand."

He leans behind the tree and plugs a cord into the outlet, filling the room with a soft yellow glow. Apparently, Eddie had replaced the lights while he slept. Clear, simple bulbs - no frills or flashing patterns. "Are these okay? Be honest."

Steve nods. It's not as pretty as it was before, but it's comforting; like the lamp he used to keep by his bed.

Eddie reheats dinner and they eat it straight from the pot, so there won't be more dishes to worry over. The plan was to watch a movie, but Steve is still exhausted even after his nap - worn out by the headache and the panic attack; so they just cuddle together in front of the tree.

Curled against Eddie, head resting easy on his boyfriend’s shoulder, Steve says, “I'm sorry about the tree. It doesn't look like the one you had growing up anymore."

Eddie puts an arm around him and squeezes. "I like this better. We're making a new tradition."

#strangerthingsfestivefun #steddie #my art #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve harrington/eddie munson #st fanart #fic drabble #my writing

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zhongrin · 2 years

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Rin the scenarios with this are going to drive anyone crazy just think a drink at the bar with him wearing this trying to get some because Childe dared him to water thisturn into a one night stand or finding a sex add for people who want some relief the possibilities are endless with this I am (s) creaming at the thought 🤤hehshshshhshsh

i volunteer

i mean i'd imagine people are going to SWARM that man as soon as he steps in the bar wearing that shirt.

come on.

you've seen him.

who can resist THAT???

-but you know what, i feel like zhongli would be very selective in choosing who gets it.

it might have been just a dare, but childe never specified any rules other than 'i dare you to give a lucky guy you meet at the bar an orgasm while wearing this shirt', he thinks with a small smirk as a server places yet another drink he never ordered on his table, saying that it was from the person two tables away this time. and since there is a whole crowd who seems to be interested, he might as well pick someone who seems trustworthy and enjoy himself while he- "don't drink that, it's spiked." he meets your worried eyes and smiles politely, putting the glass back down on the counter. well, here's a potential candidate.

or a more wholesome scenario:

imagine wearing the same shirt because you lost a bet with your friends. when you saw each other at the bar cue spiderman meme and see how uncomfortable the both of you were, you instantly understood each other. instant camaraderie right then, right there. so what do you do? you team up and exit the bar after bidding your friends goodbye, acting drunk and clinging to each other's arms. and then you're in zhongli's car, laughing and thanking each other for saving your asses from having to hook up with random people. zhongli offers you a change of clothes and you can't wait to get out of the stupid shirt, so you end up going to the nearest mall to buy a shirt for yourself (he himself brought a change of clothes; man was prepared to bail, it seems), which zhongli paid for. you insist on paying him back, so you both end up going to a nearby jazz lounge and talking over your snacks and cocktails. ever the gentleman he is, he drives you home and you leave each other that night with a new number saved in your phones. granted, it's without any orgasm, but at least you gained a crush.

#rin answers #rin is having tea with: sheepmc #rin releases a plot bunny into the wild #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #minors dni #tbh i see him as a v traditional person in modern au so he might not be comfortable with the whole dare thing my poor boy #i wanted to give him an out hsldjfklsjdlf

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kedreeva · 1 year

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I would love to hear about the otherworld marketplace

oh right!

Okay, so the REASON I went the expo yesterday, when we weren't planning on it previously because it is Distant, is because my friend that takes me had to exchange some caging, and the crafters were going to be at the show, so why not vend as long as we're out there if we're driving 2+ hours each way anyway. So we vend the show, it goes well, we have fun, everyone's packing up... except the vendor she's exchanging caging with, who tell her they're going to be at least another hour packing up etc and also they don't have the cages with them, we'll have to drive to their brick and mortar shop.

Well, whatever, that means we can go grab some food. We look up sushi places, grab the first/closest one, and drive out. GPS takes us to a mexican restaurant. we fiddle with the GPS and when swapped to "walking" it tells us actually it's across the street. We can't see across the street because of trees, so we drive across the street, and there's a Mall. Like a legit, old mall- and I realize with a bit of dawning horror that I KNOW this mall, it was built a couple of years before I went to college, it was shiny and new when I first visited it, we used to come here often. I did not recognize it because it looked like it at been through some kind of apocalypse. So I turn to my friend and say, we have a choice, we either go in and get Mall Sushi from a food court, or we pick someplace else. She stops her car in the middle of a road, not a parking spot, and we both look at the list of sushi places nearby. I see one just plainly called "sushi market" and it looks normal and there's a picture of its storefront indicating it is, perhaps, not Mall Food Court Sushi, and we take off.

I am expecting a Hole In The Wall sort of strip mall place like the two near my childhood home, but instead we enter The City.

The City, if you do not know, is the same place. You enter into it and you may or may not have been to this city before but you have been to The City and it all looks the same, really. The shops maybe have different names, but it's unclear if that is because time has passed and the coral reef of storefronts has grown/exchanged inhabitants or if this is a different place entirely and actually it doesn't matter. Which street you entered from may determine which stores you see, but you are always entering The City.

This place we are going is a hundred yards outside of The City, and looks like it. It is the same 100 yards outside of The City that exists down by my little sister. If the air had tasted a little different, I would have told you for sure I was in North Carolina visiting my sister, not a little bit lost in northwestern Michigan. We park in a little street parking place and look around hesitantly. There's a storefront for a bagel shop. There's a storefront for a local barbeque (local to ME, not this place, or at least I thought that was the case until I looked it up at home.... they don't have a shop local to me. I have eaten there a dozen times, at work, with others. it does not exist near me. this is how The City works though, sometimes you have to accept that). The parking lot is almost empty. The street is vacant. it's quiet. Nothing is happening in this location. The building indicated is unmarked, plain brick. No windows except at the bagel shop and barbeque's storefront windows. They do not have doors of their own, only a set of unmarked, double doors between them.

But, the GPS insists it is here, so we go through those blank doors, and step into an Otherworld. Inside, is a busy marketplace.

The floors are all dark, smooth concrete. Above is all grubby, teal-grey steel and wood, the walls are covered in bright-colored artwork. There are stalls that don't look permanent fashioning the interior into a maze. This is the bible belt of michigan. There's Thai food, sushi, a mochi donut shop. There's a stall devoted to popcorns, both in different flavors but also from specialty kinds of kernels. There's a wall of soda in glass bottles from companies I've never heard of. There were four shelves devoted to black cherry sodas. Floor to ceiling shelves of ginger beer, birch beer, root beer. There's a pastry shop around a corner where I stood and watched someone slicing a cheesecake six inches tall, decorated in strawberries like a painting. We pass a charcuterie shop to reach a wine and cheese bar, which is across from a seafood shop peddling fresh catch from the great lakes, which is next to a deli of local meats, across from a shop exclusively dedicated to seasoning rubs for meat. Tucked into a back corner is a chocolaterie selling bonbons and hand scooped michigan-made ice cream. There's some kind of reunion taking place up at the front of the place. There are old ladies buying popcorn. There's a guy looking at the soda walls, dressed like it's 3am and he couldn't sleep.

The place is packed, but there's hardly any cars in the parking lot so I have to assume people walked here. We dodge people and make it to the sushi counter, where we are greeted by a young woman who has sparkles glittering across the bridge of her nose instead of freckles. She takes our order and welcomes us to sit at the bartop to eat (we don't), and we find a quiet corner to sit and eat. It was the best sushi I've had in my life- the rice was actual sushi rice which is a good start, it was slightly warm still, it was melt-in-your-mouth good. We stopped by the chocolaterie to get a small scoop of ice cream (cashew caramel) and a couple of chocolates to bring home. They're tiny, with local strawberry/cherry fruits, with little things painted on their tops. They were delicious.

My friend took photos of some of the inside of the place. I don't know if she waited for the right moments or what, but there's almost no people in her photos. I cannot express to you enough that this place was FULL. I waited in lines to get food. That's me at the chocolate/ice cream shop counter and there were several people in front of me in line.

There was a second story we didn't make it to, because we had to leave to go get the caging. We exited back to a normal Michigan spring a hundred yards outside The City. The parking lot was mostly empty. The building was plain brick. There was no one on the street. The bagel shop and the barbeque storefronts had no people past the windows. There was no storefront for the sushi shop, because it was in the very heart of the place, it shared no walls with the building walls at all, there was no door to it.

#surely we just somehow went in a back door or something #on accident #but this was well and truly a strange experience #mostly because it was completely unexpected #where did it come from #how long has it been there #why does it look exactly like the shop center near my sister's house #I'm not complaining I'm just baffled #asks #stories about ked's life #personal #horror #how did I avoid mall sushi and still end up eating food court sushi #maybe this would have been a different experience #if I had not gone to school nearby #this didn't exist then #dash stretcher

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bambinella · 1 year

Text

Day 2 - Chase

MCU - Kate x Yelena

A/N: Been a while since I wrote for them, and I got this request a while ago, so I decided to combine it! Enjoy!

What Kate had intended to be a good day had turned out to be a nightmare so far. It had been one of her free days, and she had decided on spending it in the giant mall nearby, for the biggest part at least. She wanted to go shopping and see what else was nearby. Alas, things had not gone as planned. Some of the stores she had planned to go to were closed for whatever reason, a kid had run up against her with his milkshake and had ruined her favorite pants for the day. And worst of all? When she went to get ice cream to try and forget all the above, a seagull had gone and stolen it from her hand! What was a seagull doing in the city to begin with?? Those sea pigeons should stay at the sea where they belong.

So to say the least, she was in a pretty bad mood on her way home to her apartment. The one thing she could look forward to was cuddling on the couch with Lucky. However, when she approached the front door, she could see light coming from inside. She was pretty damn sure she had turned off all the lights, and since she had gone shopping she didn’t have her bow with her. Perfect. Grabbing the small pocket knife in one hand, she carefully opened the front door to peek inside. What she saw wasn’t what she had expected, and with a groan she fully opened the door.

“Yelena! You can’t keep breaking in just like that! I could have killed you!” Kate declared as she walked inside, looking at the blonde assassin sitting on her couch while cuddling with Lucky. Traitor. Yelena let out a loud laugh at that statement, as if she had said the funniest thing in the world.

“Oh Kate Bishop, you’re still as hilarious as last time it seems, please keep it up. And relax, I made a copy of your key the last time I broke in, so technically I didn’t ‘break in’ this time. I’m far too skilled for that,” She said casually, leaving the archer stunned for a moment. How many times had she broken in so far??

“Ugh, fine whatever, why are you here?” Kate relented, putting her things away in the meantime. She knew there was no way to kick Yelena out just like that.

“Because I’m bored, duh, so you need to entertain me,” The blonde said with a shrug, giving the archer a once-over. She looked… not great.

“Yelena, I just came home from the worst day in a long time, so I don’t feel like entertaining you,” Kate said with a defeated groan, trying to clean the dark, sticky spot from her pants with a wet rag.

“Yeah you look pretty terrible, what happened to you?” She asked, failing to hide the smile in her voice. Kate glared at her.

“I really don’t want to talk about it, Yelena. I’m tired and I just want to sit down for a while, so if you’re going to stay, at least scoot over,” She said, making her way over to the small couch that was being held hostage. The assassin huffed.

“That’s so rude, I claimed your couch first,” Yelena declared, her stubborn side showing up. This didn’t stop Kate from sitting down way too close next to her.

“Scoot,” She said again, giving Yelena a prod in the ribs to motivate her. What she didn’t expect was the gasp and the jerk she got from it, and judging from the reaction, neither did Yelena, who was rubbing the spot on her side.

“Kate Bishop, what in the hell did you just do to me?” Yelena asked, looking at her with slightly wider eyes. She had been taken off guard by that little poke.

“I… poked you? Wait wait, does that mean you’re ticklish??” Kate declared, the dark clouds around her dissipating slightly. Oh this could be fun.

“What’s ticklish? Kate Bishop, stop speaking in riddles,” Yelena said with an annoyed huff. She did not like the look on Kate’s face. Ignoring the danger and pursuing her curiosity, Kate poked Yelena in the ribs this time, earning another yelp and a painful slap to her wrist. Oh she was definitely ticklish.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe it, this is amazing!” Kate said with a wide grin, mischief slowly taking over as she looked at the blonde, who stared back uneasily.

“Did you hit your head while I was looking away or something? You better stop bein– hey! W-what do you think you’re dohohoing?!” Said blonde cried out as Kate suddenly grabbed her sides, a weird feeling spreading through her body. It made her want to laugh.

“I’m tickling you, duh,” Kate chuckled, now actually grateful Yelena had decided to break in. She was already less tired and grumpy than five minutes ago. She gently dug into the assassin’s ribs, and relished in the girlish squeal it got her.

“Kahahahate Bishop! Stohohop! I hahahate this! Let gohohoho!” Yelena laughed, and Kate could squeal. Who knew Yelena was this cute?? However, during her struggles to push Kate’s arms away, she managed to grab hold on one of her sides, causing her to laugh and jerk her arm back to protect her side.

“Dohohohon’t!” She giggled, before freezing as she looked at Yelena. It took the blonde only a second to put two and two together, and she smirked dangerously at the archer while catching her breath.

“Well well. I should kill you for touching me in the first place, but it seems you’re ‘ticklish’ too. So I think I’m gonna torture you with that,” She said. Kate looked at her with wide eyes yet didn’t hesitate a second as she jumped up from the couch, making her way towards literally anywhere far away from Yelena. Unfortunately for her, Yelena had the same idea and dashed after her.

“You’ll never catch me alive!” Kate cried out, nearly giggling in anticipation, only to get tackled to the floor mere seconds later. Okay so that statement was a lie. Yelena cackled as she sat down on Kate’s lower back.

“Kate Bishop, you should not have done that to me. Now prepare to die,” She said, digging her fingers rather roughly into the brunette’s sides. While having no real idea how to tickle, she was still doing a pretty good job.

“YEHEHelehehenahaha! Stohohohop! I’m sohohohorry!” She giggled madly, clawing at the floor to escape from the nails.

“Oh it’s too late for sorry now, Kate Bishop,” Yelena smirked as she crawled her fingers up onto her ribs. The brunette shrieked and tried to push herself up, only to find out that her arms had turned to goo from giggling so much.

“Plehehehease!! I’ll nehehever do it agaahahahain! NO! NOHOHHOO WAHAHAHAIT!” Yelena, of course, had ignored her plea and had moved her hands into Kate’s underarms, causing her to slam her arms to her sides as she rolled around with the limited movement she had. Yelena cackled at the sight.

“Damn right you won’t. You’re not even close to sorry yet,” She warned, yet it had a playful undertone. Still, Kate was at the mercy of the assassin now, who didn’t know mercy.

Legend says Kate is still laughing.

#tk community #tickle fanfic #tickling #tickletober 2023 #Kate Bishop #Yelena Belova #Yelena x Kate #tickle fic

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hozaloza · 9 months

Text

Cool little predict/scenario (spoilers ig)

What if the group escapes with the help of the Crane group (except Ashlyn ig... she'll be going through some shit with Maverick kind of staying by her side, evil or empathy idk), and each kid is with the Crane Group member who matches them the best: Ashlyn- Maverick

Aiden- Mr. Thomas

Ben- Blondie (that is, if he does get his name drop, btw I'm gonna consider a character having a name mean they are important to the story)

Taylor- Jasmine

Tyler- Ryan

Logan- Alex

And they're all just kinda on the run from the bigger organization. I like to think each kid has different feelings based on who they got with.

Ashlyn is stuck in this strange comatose phase, following phantoms around to figure out how to get out of this sleep. She senses Maverick nearby but can't do much about him. Although, she senses strange calmness every time he's around (He's speaking comforting words to her, hoping she could hear them, and let it be known he's there for her... omg uncle figure y'all?? FOUND FAMILY AU BABY-). Maverick is just sort of sitting by Ashlyn, observing her to see when she'll wake up, wondering why he came to this point in life (redemption arc baby).

Aiden doesn't trust Mr. Thomas at first, refusing to believe he and him are similar. But after some exposure, he finally understands the similarities, and feels seen by the teacher. They do... a lot of stupid shit while on the run (All those poor billboards man). Thomas also has to keep Aiden close to him in case the phantom tries taking control. Although he does treat Aiden to skateboarding and cool events (which they half the time end up having to leave early because Crane members)

Ben is hesitant to talk to Blondie, not wanting to speak to him. But he notices how Blondie doesn't really look like he wants to talk either, but forces himself to so he could communicate important information either way, and starts to slowly communicate with Blondie (with paper). They bond over the fact that they both don't like communicating with their voice, and Blondie thought giving Ben some speech therapy could help him out. He works with him often, while they relax in calming picnic spots or fields.

Taylor literally will refuse to talk to Jasmine the first 3 days, both out of fear and frustration (She probably has PTSD bc of this woman). Jasmine won't force her to talk, simply asking questions that require head nods or shakes. After 4 days, Jasmine gives Taylor a nice little trip to the Mall Of Georgia, seeing if there was a possibility to contact her brother (who was with Ryan) so they could talk after so long. She let her roam a little bit, with a good amount of cash to treat herself. Taylor does some shopping, not really having fun since she was alone, but she overall got a good change of clothes, meaning she didn't have to wear Jasmine's stuff anymore. While exiting from the food court, she stood there for a second, observing a group of friends having a fun time, not having to go through the hell she was in. She pulled the hood over her head, just wishing things could go back to at least the simpler times. However, she was unaware of the fact that a Higher-Up crane was attempting to sneak up on her. But luckily, Jasmine had been driving up the car to the entrance and planning on waiting for Taylor, when she saw this. Without thought, she drove full speed and hit the Crane Member. Taylor was caught off-guard, and realized what had been happening. "Get in!" Jasmine yelled in a panic. Taylor quickly threw her bags inside, closing the door, and Jasmine sped off. [Side note- Some kids who knew Taylor recognized her, and it spread around the school like crazy]

Tyler is straight up being sassy with this man. Insulting his bald ass head (Insults is his coping mechanism fr), and not really cooperating half the time (Phantom is starting to affect him, so). Although, when he is calm, he generally learns about Ryan, and they discuss about their similarities (Like them being both Hispanic, although Ryan is also mixed Vietnamese). He takes Tyler around the state, giving him a little break from the madness, also making sure he has a safe place to be at night for when it hits 12:00am. (He took him fishing once, safe to say he's never doing it again.)

Logan already got along with Alex, so he's just discussing about plans to get back with the group. However, Alex encourages him to take breaks every once in a while, by taking him stargazing on multiple occasions. He also does calming activities with Logan, like touring museums or having nice little snacks by ponds. They also grow close to each other, treating one another like family (FOUND FAMILY AU BABYYY)

---------

Yes, Taylor's was kinda long. I thought of this concept bc of her, let the child have it. Anyways, hope you like this little ramble I had that actually involved all the kids 💪💪 Bye bye (Prob more coming soon, lmao I'm gonna go insane this hiatus. Red hope you're doing good though, take a break if you need it)

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stripedwolf88 · 8 months

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*sigh* alright. I'm gonna vent about this for hopefully the last time but knowing me it probably won't be. That's fine. We must allow emotions to flow like the river but remember to let them go. I get there eventually.

Don't get distracted dude! Okay my peoples I'm going to "share the tea" as the kids say on that girl that has made me spiral this past week? Week and a half? I don't know what time is anymore honestly.

So...this girl is someone I met at work in October of this past year. We'll call her N okay so that it doesn't get confusing later. Anyway N and I hit it off pretty quickly and that's something for me because I'm pretty socially awkward and I find connecting with people in new settings difficult (who doesn't am I right?) We eventually started texting outside of work which then turned into hanging out together. I will admit I developed a minor crush on her even though I knew pretty early on that she had a partner called H. I have a tendency to "catch feelings" for people who are unavailable mainly straight girls. The reason for this is probably because I know that I'm not ready for a romantic relationship right now and having a crush on someone that you know can't return your feelings is safe and kind of fun? No harm no foul right?

Anyway I just decided to feel my feelings with no outward action that would be disrespectful to their relationship. I will say I gave N quite a few compliments but they fell within platonic bounds like "oh I like how you did your make up today" or "it's funny how you react to certain things" ect. And in no way was I ever physically close in any way because the hell if I am ever going to ever make someone uncomfortable with physical touch like I have in the past.

During our talks, N would sometimes complain about her partner being controlling. Telling her what to wear, getting mad at her for going out alone, getting irritated by who she was hanging out with. Mind you N's partner, H, is in California while we are here in AZ. I don't like H for treating N this way but I know it's not my place to talk crap about her partner. Just listen and sometimes offer support of my friend right? I've butted in where I shouldn't have in the past and it's gotten me into trouble.

So randomly one day H, the partner, adds me on snap when we had already had each other's phone number because N wanted to invite me into the dnd sessions. It didn't work out but I still kept the phone number just in case of whatever ya know?

I told N about H adding me and N tells me about how H got upset when she found that I was gay and that me and N had hung out in her dorm together. N explained to her that I was just a friend and that technically her roommate was technically also there just separated by a wall. (We were in like the living room area of her dorm while the roommate was in the actual bed room on a zoom) We literally just watched a movie and talked for a while about random stuff. Now N had already mentioned that I was gay to H prior to this little fight they had but apparently H forgot or something? At least that's what N told me.

Okay skip forward to a hangout at the nearby mall in which N tells me that H "trusts me" around N. It rubbed me the wrong way because of the other behaviors I listed above. We hangout and I swear N is basically on her phone throughout our outing texting H updates. And normally I would get it but it was incessant. Not every hour. No it was like every 15 minutes she felt the need to be texting her. I got a bit upset. I mean we're trying to hangout anf her being on her phone is making me feel ignored and disrespected. I brush it off saying I'm just being overly sensitive.

Skip to the past couple weeks I get not only a text message but also a Snapchat message from H. I respond cautiously because we haven't ever really spoken to each other prior to this. H cuts right to the chase and tells me she would appreciate that I not hang out with N alone anymore but hopes that this won't affect our friendship. 1. I am uncomfortable at this essential stranger telling me this 2. I am confused as to why I am not hearing this from N who is my friend and should be able to make this boundary with me 3. I begin to think that H is speaking to me without N knowing and essentially telling me to back off.

It takes me a long while to react and what I end up doing is screen shooting the message H sent me and sending it in a group chat that includes N, H, and me. I also write a message that just says " I believe in honesty and transparency" and I'm basically asking where this is coming from still thinking N doesn't know that H has texted me.

I come to find out that N did know that H was going to text me about this. H makes a comment that says "it's interesting that you thought we hadn't talked about this and that N didn't already know." I am immediately hurt at the idea that may not have felt comfortable to tell me this info on her own and angry at being "asked" to do something from a stranger. I convey my hurt and confusion. It turns kind of ugly fast in which H accuses me of butting in to their relationship by making the group chat when I was just trying to have everyone be on the same page and foster more open communication. I try to convey that it wasn't cool that N did not tell me about this change herself and how I would have respected it. They both don't seem to get why I'm upset. I at one point say how weird it is to hear this kind of thing from a stranger and N thinks I'm being disrespectful by calling H that. But that is simply what they are to me because I have never really spoken to H and gotten to know them. N basically ends up saying "I understand that you feel hurt and I had hoped this wouldn't affect our friendship but I understand if you don't want to be friends anymore."

Which to me seems like she thought that I might get mad. And that she is already kind of okay with us not being friends.

I had made comments to defend myself on why I made the group chat basically saying I don't know how well they communicate since I have been told of problems in the past from N. Which I think probably made H a little mad and N uncomfortable.

It ends with N just saying again they understand that I'm hurt but they never meant to make me feel as though I was not of value to them. I responded the next day saying that I needed some space from texting and hanging out outside of work but that I would remain civil at work until further notice.

I kind of gave myself an out because I don't really know how much I'm willing to invest in this friendship. And if I'm willing to try and sort through this drama. N's actions aren't really lining up with what she's saying by claiming that she values me when she has made me feel like this before.

I totally understand that H is insecure especially with things being long distance between them but for them to text me like that felt disrespectful to me. Had it come from N it would have been different. It would have been a frI end asking to make this adjustment because they are doing it out of respect for their partner and the health of their relationship. But no this seems to me based on the info I gathered from our convo and previous convos that this was mainly H's idea and that N just went along with it. And it would be another example of H being controlling.

I was and am hurt and feel like I got slapped in the face by this whole situation. I will say that N reassured me that there was nothing on my part that was causing this change. Which I'm gald because I would be disgusted with myself if I had done anything to make her feel uncomfortable.

I've recently come to the conclusion that I may just distance myself and say we can only really talk at work. I don't want to give myself the opportunity to say something I will regret but also the opportunity for me to get hurt like this again.

I would like to hear your guys' thoughts? Was I wrong to respond the way I did to that message? Should I try to repair this friendship or just let it go?

Woof. Sorry that was a lot. If you made it this far, thank you for reading and letting me vent.

#day in the life of a striped wolf #stripedwolf's problems #rant #vent post #personal vent

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seat-safety-switch · 1 year

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When you’re hungry, you shouldn’t force yourself to keep working. Our bodies have been tuned by millions of years of evolution to prioritize getting something to eat over whatever little weird thing we’re grinding out this evening in our ramshackle, corrugated-steel shed on the side of a major freeway. Don’t ignore it: go eat, and come back to the job refreshed.

I live my own advice, a habit which my attorney and parole officer suggest that I discard. When I was recently working on welding a Ford 9″ solid rear axle into the carcass of a 1968 Corvette birdhouse, so that it could accept the torque from a Triton V10 that “fell out of” a motorhome that got abandoned at the truck stop near my house, I felt hungry. And I stopped working, so I could go eat that food.

There is, of course, a problem. My ramshackle, corrugated-steel work shed is on the side of a major freeway. Although I live in a city that is becoming “walkable,” in practice that actually means that the bars nearby now serve craft beer. I still have to walk 35 minutes across two busy expressways and through a burned-out industrial yard to reach them, much less a Burger King. And let’s be honest, the car I used to get here is not taking me anywhere, until I finish working on it.

Sound familiar? I bet it does. Don’t worry. Where there’s opportunity, there’s an opportunity to make the problem worse. You see, in my shed, I have access to an old South Bend lathe. It spins really fast, and sometimes really slow, and it helps me to cut metal for, say, a replacement chunk of my control arm that fell off trying to merge onto Main Street the other day. What I don’t have access to, as I said previously, is food.

Or at least, not, like, good food. Sure, anyone can bang together a grilled cheese sandwich on a hot exhaust manifold. I was in the mood for something gourmet. Something exotic. Maybe donair, Canada’s favourite adopted food that is of indeterminate ethnic origin? The closest place for that is at my local mall, which was bulldozed into nothingness around 2018. No, I’m going to have to make it myself. From the garage deep freeze came a chunk of frozen, spiced ground beef, and I began to turn it on the lathe, slowly peeling off intricate, delicious shavings. Donair, at home: the impossible dream, and all it cost me was several thousand dollars of industrial equipment, which hopefully nobody notices is missing any time soon.

Now if only I had thought far enough ahead to buy some pitas, but hey - I’m pretty sure this sleeve of Wonder Bread from the 80s will never go bad.

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thesoftboiledegg · 1 year

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When I was driving to the mall today, I saw a license plate that read "[letters]-C137." Coincidence? Probably not! In the space of 30 seconds a couple of weeks ago, I saw a Pickle Rick sticker on somebody's car and a guy with a beard wearing a Rick and Morty shirt (why is it always guys with beards?)

I also saw a Tesla recently with the word "TESLA" in the license plate number, so I guess the Tesla logo on the front isn't enough. Gotta let everybody know that they're the kings and queens of the road while their vehicles blow up.

Anyway, Rue 21 had Rick and Morty women's undergarments, which is a little different.

Finally, merchandise where Morty looks mischievous and crafty instead of yelling aimlessly. But he's still yelling on the tag!

This hoodie is adorable. I recognize the flower Morty from the Dolls Kill collaboration.

The text is a little ominous, though. "Rick and Morty time! All day long, forever..." I guess that's another way of saying "Rick and Morty, a hundred years"? But the way it trails off is a little eerie.

Spencer's was well stocked with Shrimp and Toxic Rick energy drinks. Seriously, why did the marketing team choose two of the grossest Ricks for something that you put in your mouth?

Well, at least it has one less gram of sugar than the Shrimp Rick drink. Yay, that means it's healthy!

They also had no shortage of Pickle Rick beanies, so you can buy one for yourself and each of your friends.

And a new Hologram Rick glass. I don't know what it is about Hologram Rick and Spencer's, but they're always stocking merchandise with his face on it.

I got a little curious about what Spencer's sells online and checked out the description on the Rick and Morty section. Boy, it's a doozy!

Bold of them to assume that I have friends who are also fans of Rick and Morty. I brought it up ONCE and got antagonized.

Afterward, I stopped by the nearby head shop. That first pipe is pretty generic, but, uh...what's going on with Morty in the back? Bootleg merchandise is a lawless wasteland.

Pipes!

I asked the employee "Can I see that Rick and Morty tray?" then said "Oh, it's a Ren and Stimpy reference!" I actually never watched that show growing up. I was more of a Spongebob, Powerpuff Girls, Scooby-Doo and Dexter's Laboratory fan.

In a previous installment, I mentioned seeing a new Tesla building in the area. It would've been funny if that building just sat there empty, but...nope. Tesla is moving in.

It was hard to take pictures because the windows reflected the street, so I literally had to stand in front of the windows to cast a shadow.

Display models, a service warehouse, a "modern" office room with inexplicably tiny chairs and tables that sit one foot off the ground...it's all here!

I live in a low-to-middle income area, and Teslas aren't cheap, but I still see them everywhere, ready to explode at a moment's notice. Will Elon Musk visit one day to ramble about how he loves Rick and Morty, he's the real-life Rick, it's carton nihilism, he has ten Pickle Rick pillows, Spencer's gives him an exclusive 90% off Dudebro Discount and Rick would totally rail him in an alleyway?

Maybe not.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #rue 21 #spencer's #elon musk #roundup

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pxrxcxa · 2 years

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Opposite Ends

Chapter Twelve | My girl

C1 | C2 | C3 | C4 | C5 | C6 | C7 | C8 | C9 | C10 | C11 | C13 pt 1 | C13 pt 2 |

Chapter Thirteen pt 1 is out now, enjoy Sunflowers x 🌻

Pairing | Eddie x Female reader 18+. Steve x Robin x Female reader platonic friendship

Series summary | Dustins older sister got brought into the group during the events of Starcourt mall, 3 months on she's in her senior year and the kids are starting high school. After everything that went down she feels that she has to keep them safe at all costs, that includes keeping them way from the charismatic 'freak' Eddie Munson that runs a club based on their favourite game. They've both hated each other since freshman year -with good reason-, but when keeping distance between the kids and Eddie means putting herself in the firing line, boundaries get blurred, intentions get lost & the heart speaks louder than the brain.

The story is told from both Y/N & Eddies point of view.

What to expect | Slow burn enemies to lovers, Angst - with a happy ending (fix-it-fic if you will), fluff & smut (in the later chapters). 18+ to read this story.

Series Warnings | Mentions of abuse, drug use, 18+ smut content

Chapter word count | 10 K Word Count

Chapter warnings | Light smut, vivid violent description

Authors Note | I literally had to go into work off shift to use my computer for this :( I'm really hating not having my laptop rn *cries violently* - anyways, I hope you enjoy it ;)

As always, any & all comments/reblogs are most appreciated - Thankyou, P. x 🌿

Y/N | March 1986

Drowning.

It was the only word I could think, the only thought that flashed through my mind as I swirled deeper under the crushing wave of darkness.

I’d drowned once before.

I was a freshman, and as someone who had recently joined the cheer team, I’d been invited to the exclusive end of year party as the upper classmen celebrated their impending freedom of adulthood.

An endless supply of warm beers hand been handed out amongst the rest of my squad as we lounged around the water’s edge of Lovers Lake, sunbathing, and drinking in the looming enjoyment of finishing another year of school. As the sun set deeper behind the horizon, and I sunk deeper into my cup, the idea of joining the older boys screaming in glee as they jumped off the nearby cliff face, seemed better and better the more my head clouded from the alcohol.

As I’d stumbled up to the rock face, spilling the dark liquor from my red cup as unseen hoots cheered me on in the nearing darkness, I’d hesitated on the crumbling edge as I peered into the intimidating depths below. A wolf whistle had distracted me, and I’d lost my balance, slipping off the slanted rock face and spiralling into cold water. I hadn’t felt it at the time, but I’d smacked the soft flesh of my forehead into the sharp jagged rock as I’d tumbled off it, the blood and my hair blinded my vision as I plunged into the freezing abyss.

The silence was deafening as I over spun, kicking out against the heavy water. It was too dark and suffocating to tell which way was up, the fall had knocked away what little breath I’d had in me and the hit to my head had disorientated me further than the alcohol already had, as the panic set in, smothering blackness wavered in my blurred vision. Every nerve ending in my body was screaming for some sort of relief as the darkness won out.

As I came to, relieved laughs had been yelled far too close to my ear as someone wrenched me up right and smacked my back to bring up at least half of the lake up out of my lungs, as I sat shivering on the cold sand surrounded by drunk seniors, someone else slapped a fresh beer into my shaking hands and gave me a thumbs up. I’d tried to hide my terror behind a hesitant sip.

But the violent fear that choked me as I nearly drowned, was nothing compared the thrill of trepidation that floored me now.

I was vaguely aware, through the layers of thick haze, of large, warm pulsing fingers pressing painfully into my arms and shaking me roughly. It was dark when I opened my eyes, eerily as the darkness pushed in on me from all sides. Something unnatural that lingered in the air sent an electrified tingle up my spine as I shivered, slowly turning in a whole circle as I stared out into the blackness. The pressure of the unseen pair of hands was still there but lessening as a ringing screeched through my ears.

My breathing hastened as heavy footsteps echoed from all corners in my vision, fighting against the loaded clock chimes that sounded in the distance. I swung my head around wildly as tears sprung to my eyes and my entire body shook on the edge. Terror froze me to the spot as my name reverberated through my skull, silent but deafening as it was spoken into my mind, pounding into the soft flesh behind my aching eyes.

I gasped and snapped my eyes shut as an image of the ‘flayed’ me shot across the distant void space in front of me, crawling backwards on her snapped knees and hands. Even though those that had actually fallen victim to the fleshy monster, hadn’t exactly been so grotesque in real life, my nightmares, and paranoid feelings towards what happened last summer, manifested in the horrors that plagued me during my waking hours until they appeared more terrifying than anything that the Upside Down could spit out at us.

I know what you are

Like my name, the animalistic growl didn’t speak out loud but rather to me, straight into my soul as if it had unwarranted access to parts of me I’d hidden even from myself. I wanted to scream as I felt the unfamiliar presence lap at the festering sores in my mind, tearing through them until it found one it liked and put it on display for me to relive.

I’ve seen you. The real you

My breathing turned to gasps as I felt it move behind me, its presence felt larger than a skyscraper as the world around me as I knew it, changed. If it hadn’t been plaguing me since the fire, I would have thought the scene around me was an actual memory.

As it was, it was my dream – or more accurately, nightmare – that had ruled my life and every decision since it had first woken me with a petrified scream. Billy was spread wide as the monsters’ sharp tentacles stabbed in and through his torso, soaking his white sleeveless shirt with gut wrenching crimsons stains. A chorus of agonized screams erupted from the distance, and as I recognised my own amongst them, my stomach turned.

Too much.

As Billy’s own dying scream rained painfully down on me, my eyes travelled along the length of the deadly monster arms, shivering as I watched them come closer and disappear behind me.

No not behind me, from me.

Before the nightmare could completely take on its usual cruel twist, I snapped my eyes shut and spun around as I watched blue eyes melt into deep brown ones, short wavy hair growing out into long curls and Billy’s taught muscles deflating into lean skinner ones.

It was all too much. Not him. Please Not him.

I wasn’t sure when my begging became available for anyone but my own previously safe thoughts, but the creature responded.

I’m coming for you

For a split second, black rage overpowered the crippling fear as the reminder of what I had to fight for, what I would never stop fighting for replayed through my mind.

The warm embrace of Eddie’s laughter, his sweet secret smile as he handed me my mix tape, the first night he’d snuck into my home, his fragrant, intoxicating scent that was signature to him only, the day at his house when he’d hesitated on the word that I’d been waiting to hear for months – it all flashed through me in a moment like a movie reel of the happiest moments of my life.

But even that wasn’t enough to hold me from shattering into pieces as I turned to face whatever terror haunted me.

A humanoid monster with black skin and movable vines that protrude from its entire body, resembling a desiccated corpse missing imperative parts of its body, was covered in distinctly creepy details —veiny skin, jagged edges, toothy appendages.

My stomach rolled and my knees buckled, I wasn’t strong enough to form the words out loud, but whatever psychic connection allowed it into my mind, seemed to work the other way.

What do you want? The scream was impressively deafening inside the walls of my skull pounding with blood. It cocked its scaly head to the side as its dead eyes appraised me, it’s tone almost – but not quite – cordial.

I want you. To join me

Its words didn’t make sense as they jumbled my thoughts, but the monster took my silence for defiance, and it turned angry. It raised a large, deformed hand as its claws inched towards my face, tilting my head back as its sharp nails pinned against the sides it. My breathing became laboured, inhaling the rotting stench of its flaky skin as it stepped closer.

Max might have escaped me this time, but I’ve got you

I choked out puffs of breath as I was lifted to the balls of my feet, my eyes rolling back as excruciating pain set my network of nerves throughout my entire body on fire.

I’m coming for everybody

Its slimy hand crowded my vision as the mixed faces of my loved ones and fleeting memories spurred past, mixing in with the awful end that rushed towards me like a freight train.

I’m coming for him

Eddie.

My Eddie. The danger was here with me, and Eddie wasn’t. The safest place for him. I’d always known I’d die at the cursed hands of Hawkins, ever since I’d first been told about the upside down, deep down, I knew.

As certain death – or something heinously horrendous that the thought made me violently ill – loomed ever closer, I expected regret and anguish over not being able to fulfill childhood dreams, or fear at the unknown or remorse over unsaid words to those that meant more than anything.

But all I felt was a warm, comforting peace as I let my eyes flutter close and succumbed to the pretence of the only thing that brought me consolation.

Because maybe in the end, I got what I wanted.

I got Eddie.

And a short life lived with him was worth a thousand times more than any lengthy one devoid of his warmth and goodness.

I dug deep through walls of stone to dredge up the feelings I had vaulted away after I’d sworn to myself to protect him, I’d fought as far as I could, it was up to our friends now to save him.

For whatever remained of my life, I would spend it with him.

A soft smile played on the corner of my mouth as the feeling of Eddie’s strong hands wrapped around me, came back into focus.

My headache pounded heavier than ever before but like he always had, Eddie’s soft voice broke through the gurgling from deep within the chest of the monster and I tightened my eyes, focusing on the sweet octaves of Eddie’s voice as it wove through the sonnet of my favourite song. My smile deepened because I knew bliss must be close, he’d never sung it to me before – I doubted Eddie had paid much attention to learn it off by heart as he struggled to keep an interest in genres’ he wasn’t super passionate about.

Even though he loved teasing me about my ‘awful music taste’ he’d still let me listen to it in his van sometimes when he’d drive us home from school, and that’s how I must have imagined him singing it now because this surely was my own figment.

I scowled as Eddie’s hands tightened painfully around my middle, shaking me against something solid as the beauty of the song reaching its peak was interrupted by panic seeping into his voice, my name laced and dripping in sheer terror as his urgency broke through the veil.

“Y/N” My neck snapped back painfully as Eddie’s hands moved to my shoulders and shook me beneath his pinching fingers, slamming me against his chest as sweat dripped off his brow.

I collapsed against his quivering frame as my legs betrayed me, feeling the last vibrating hum leave his centre as his singing ceased and a relieved gasp left his lips. I slammed my eyes shut as a wave of nausea washed over me, breathing in the earthy scent of him as I buried my face against the soft fabric of his shirt, heaving sobs began to make me shake as I clasped my fingers around the collar of his shirt.

Eddie crushed me to him as hysterical cries ripped out of my throat, switching to a desperate plea of his name as he traced a careful touch up and down my back, muttering into my ear over and over that I was okay.

“It’s alright, I’ve got you.” He pressed a messy kiss to the sweaty strands of hair plastered to the side of my head, pulling back slightly but tightening his hold around me. Panic was flamed in the taught lines of his forehead as his eyes searched mine, I tried to keep them guarded as I focused on evening my breathing, not ready or wanting to tell him what I’d seen, concentrating on the surreal feeling of being back grounded in the boat house and away from grey decaying monsters, seemingly – at least for the moment - alive.

A flurry of high-pitched words screamed through the casted aside walkie, making me jump in fright under Eddie’s firm hold. He crouched down between us to snatch it off the weathered floorboards beneath us, bringing it close to his lips as he answered Steve’s hurried question.

“She’s okay, I’ve got her.” Eddie stepped closer as he wrapped his arm around my waist, his concerned dark eyes boring into mine. “Yeah, I thought to so, my singing wasn’t exactly oscar worthy, but I guess it worked enough.” He shot me a half smirk that made my heart flutter, even under the heavy threat of imminent danger and death, Eddie’s natural carefree attitude still didn’t fail to place a small shaky smile on the corner of my lips.

The warmth radiating from him burned into my side comfortably as I clenched my fingers harder into the fabric resting against his chest, refusing to let go of him as he rubbed small circles against my back. The very real feeling of him caused a last slow sob to bubble in my throat as my eyes burned with fresh tears.

How could I keep him safe?

It wasn’t a question anymore, I’d felt what it would be like to lose him, I wasn’t willing to be a risk to Eddie’s safety for much longer. I smashed my lips together as he glanced back down at me to hide my thoughts as my resolve hardened.

His eyes flickered across the slight waves bobbing above the surface in the hole of the middle of the room, following the movement as he listened intently to Steve, his tone had turned apologetic.

“No, it’s okay man. You guys take care of Max, we’re good here.” Even after everything that had happened in the past few days, everything that Eddie had seen and been told, he’d accepted me back into the pattern of ‘we’ just as easy as I’d fallen into it.

His eyes softened as I reached up to caress the stubble of his jaw line, swallowing the lump in my throat as I pushed away the thoughts that ate at me, Eddie caught my hand as it brushed past his cheek, holding it to his nose as he inhaled against my tingling skin.

“You’re pale.” He broke away suddenly, linking his fingers through mine as he tugged me off from where we both leaned against the back wall. Only then, as my head swam dangerously and my eyes crossed, did I realise how weak and fragile I felt. Eddie ran his eyes over me doubtfully, in a flash he swung my arm that he still had in his grip, over his shoulders as he wrapped his free hand around my waist to pull me close.

Eddie ignored my protest as he herded me towards the slightly ajar door, nudging it open with the toe of his dirty sneakers.

“We have to stay hidden Eds.” I raised a trembling hand to shield my eyes from the sudden onslaught of the blaring sun.

“You need to eat something” He fixed his grip on me as he practically half carried half dragged me up the uneven slope towards the darkened doorstep of Reefer Ricks house.

I shook my head as another rush of nausea passed over me at the thought of what Eddie considered ‘food’.

“Water then.” He argued, flashing a worried look at me as the rest of the blood drained from my face and I lolled heavily against him.

Eddie | March 1986

The back door of Rick’s place that led down to the waterfront of Lovers Lake, banged against the panelled wall loudly. I shot y/n a quick glance at where she laid peacefully against the aged pillows of the rickety couch before rushing over to snap the door shut slowly, cringing as it creaked out into the morning air. I spied a couple of elderly neighbours swaying lazily on a rusty fishing boat in the middle of the glistening water, nursing their poles as they glanced over in our direction. My hand hesitated on the door handle as jealously floored me, what I would have given to be enjoying the weekend in a similar fashion, as opposed to harbouring as a fugitive for a crime I did not commit.

The reminder had me slinking away from the door and pulling the curtains shut tighter to avoid drawing anymore attention, dousing us back in filtered darkness as dust particles swirled in the sunlight that snuck through the slack in the window curtains. Her breath fanned across the pillow where she had her hands stuck under her chin, her lips falling apart in a relaxed pout as I leaned against the doorframe to watch her.

It was silent for a moment before a muted moan reverberated in the space between us, I froze as I waited for another to confirm I hadn’t imagined it. After a long held in breath, y/n muttered again.

My name.

My dull heart ached as my stomach churned, was she dreaming of me? In the months I’d spent with her in my arms, she’d never once spoken in her sleep. I wondered now if it was a pleasant dream, doubtful considering the horrors we’d both suffered over the past few days, but a man could dream to, right?

Her hand shot out across the grizzly fabric to clench around thin air as her brows knotted together.

“Eddie…mmm. M’sorry.” A mixture of anguish and affection rushed through me, rooting me to the spot as I waited for more. I’d been wrong and angry the first night when I yelled at her that she wasn’t who I thought she was, because truthfully it didn’t matter to me that she’d lied, in her own opinion, to protect me, deep down at her core she was good and kind and selfless, my girl.

Nothing she ever did or anything that happened would ever stop her from being my girl.

I jolted as she shivered, spurring across the space between us with light, hurried footsteps to tug up the withered blanket that pooled around her waist to tuck up over her shoulders. She smiled and sighed my name once more in content, like she sensed me near as she bundled down gratefully under the covers.

I brushed the stray hair from her eyes, letting the warmth of her breath send a longing shiver up my spine as I forcibly tore my hand away from her, arguing with myself that right now wasn’t an appropriate time to give into my more basic urges. I spun on my heels and headed to the barren kitchen to play house husband as a distraction.

The top draw clattered as I wrenched it open a little too roughly, my frustration seeping through as my male needs distracted me. I slammed it closed in annoyance as it revealed only rusted metal utensils and moved on to the cupboards beneath.

“Nope.” I muttered under my breath as I snapped those closed as well, the overhead shelf above the oven homed dusty cans of mixed soups and pastas. I snorted as I pictured y/n’s face when I presented her with a bowl of mushed food with absolutely zero nutrients.

“You’ll do.” I muttered as I snatched a cylinder of ‘SpaghettiOs’ and slammed down a semi clean pot onto the top of the stove, turning up the gas to high heat. It sloshed around in the metal as I bit my tongue between my teeth in concentration, no reason this shouldn’t be the best on-the-run meal y/n had ever had. She was sitting cross legged against the couch pillows as she rubbed her eyes sleepily when I sauntered back into the living room, balancing the two shared bowls of the food in one hand as I brought the walkie to my mouth in the other. I glanced away as she stretched her arms above her head with a yawn, the thin fabric of her shirt exposing the dip just before her pant line, a different kind of hunger churning within me.

She looked up with a with a sheepish smile and accepted the bowl I handed her without complaint, mouthing the word ‘thankyou’ as I spoke.

“Hey, Dustin, this is Eddie the banished and your sister with her mister, you there?” The radio clicked out as y/n let out an small, amused giggle, slurping up the food with haste. I tried not to let my relief show too much at the fact she seemed much better than yesterday, looking far more alive at least.

Silence

“Dustin, can you hear me?” The spoon froze in her hand as her eyes flashed up to meet mine and I turned on the spot, trying not to let the lack of a response send me into a panic.

“Dustin?” I dragged out, my chewing slowing as my stomach dropped, y/n let her spoon clatter against her bowl loudly.

“Earth to Dustin?” The walkie crackled promisingly.

Hey it’s Nancy

“Wheeler! Hey.” I shouted back happily, a little loudly as y/n winced. I switched the walkie to my other hand as I strutted over to the window, peering out into the blinding sun that filtered through the leaves of the swaying trees.

“Um, we’re gonna need a food delivery.” I glanced down at the mushy carbohydrates at the edges of my bowl as my stomach growled in distain, y/n shared a similar displeased look as she set her own half eaten meal on the coffee table in front of her.

“Like really soon, unless you want me going out into the world.” My empty threat was cut off as Nancy’s voice flowed back through and y/n shot me a frustrated glare.

No. No, no, no. Don’t do that. Stay where you guys are, and we’ll be there as soon as we can.

“Yeah yeah. Listen, um… can you pick me up a six-pack?” The couch groaned in protest as y/n rolled her eyes and shot up from it, coming to stand beside me.

“I know it’s stupid as shit, drinking right now.” My words were meant for y/n as her shorter frame stood flush against my chest to stare up angrily at me.

“But a cold beer would really calm my jangled nerves.” Y/n hung her head back as I smirked at her.

Hey, I’m gonna have to call you back.

“No don’t you dare- Wheeler? Wheeler?” Y/n shot me her own gleeful look as the line cut out and my face screwed up.

“You really think drinking right now is a good idea, Eddie?” She cocked an eyebrow at me as she sighed, crossing her arms. I gulped and looked away from her as she pushed her breasts up even closer to my face, my cheeks reddened as my eyes flashed back down without my permission.

“I think it’s a great idea y/n.” And truth be told I did, I could think of a hundred different ways a night of drinking with y/n could end right now, and I was a happy man in all of them.

She sighed and smacked my chest lightly like she knew was I was thinking. “I’m gonna take a much-needed shower.” I clenched my jaw as I watched her hips sway as she disappeared around the corner, trying very hard and failing, to keep my thoughts away from her as I heard the creaking tap turn on and the steaming water rushing down against the floor of the bathtub. With a grunt I turned away and readjusted my jeans against the growing pressure inside of them.

The sun was setting, making the frayed ancient furniture of Reefer Ricks living room look like it was on fire as they shone in the orange glow. I had my back pressed against the far wall across from where y/n sat cross legged again on the couch, absentmindedly toying with the hem of her jacket as she stared out the dirt crusted window above the kitchen.

I could watch her for hours like this, semi relaxed as she was lost in her own thoughts, unaware of anything else around her. She chewed on her bottom lip hard enough to make me jealous as a flash of anger flared in her eyes and her hand came away with threads of fabric she’d torn from her jacket.

She glanced up to meet mine as a laugh slipped past my tight lips, shaking my head as I flicked a non-existent speck of dust at her.

“I just hate this. The waiting.” She half growled, launching up to the middle of the floor as she wrapped her arms around herself, unsure what she was hoping for. She glared daggers at the silent walkie sitting on the coffee table between us.

“So impatient.” I grinned, loud enough for her to hear me but she ignored my teasing.

“It’s almost night, and their last update was hours ago. They should have found something at the creel house by now.” She let her arms hang by her side limply as she pouted again.

“No news is good news.” She sighed at my cryptic response, scowling at me as I held my hands up in innocence.

“We have to do something Eddie, we can’t just sit here and wait for the danger to come and find us. It’s too open here.” Her eyes filled with a distant look as she moved to the window, gripping the ledge of it as she peered into the encasing darkness like the monster was out there lurking right now. Hell, maybe it was.

I leant forward slightly, pulling the full bottle of whiskey that I found rummaging through Ricks nightstand like a creep, from behind my back, letting it balance on my knee as I cleared my throat. I half expected a snarky comment or disappointed shake of her head, but y/n’s face was blank as she considered my offer.

“Fuck it.” With quick strides she crossed the thin carpet, snatching the bottle from between my fingers and folding herself down next to me. I watched her from the corner of my eye, pressing my lips together as she pushed into my side to make herself comfortable as she stretched her legs. My skin beneath my jacket burned from where she’d rubbed into me.

“Easy there sweetheart.” I smiled, reaching out for the bottle as she tipped it back dangerously.

“I think I’m old enough to say when I’ve had enough Munson.” She snapped, flexing her hands wrapped around the lip of it as she glanced at me like I had razor teeth. Her face was filled with unrelenting fear as she relived something I was not privy to.

“That’s not why, I just want some left over for me.” I flashed an uneasy grin as I waited for her to laugh at my joke, the sweet sound didn’t tinkle into the air, but the corners of her lips did lift and as palmed it off to me.

We sat in a loaded silence for a few minuets as we passed it back and forth, watching the shadows crawl across the floor and wiping our mouths on the backs of our hands as we shivered at the burning liquid dripping down our throat. I held out as long as I could before the muted sounds drove me crazy, with the warm tingling of the alcohol finally kicking in and filling me with a new confidence, I broke the thin wall between us.

“You know, this is usually a lot better with games.” I held up the now half empty bottle in the dwindling light as she scoffed.

“Games? Like what?” She humoured me and offered a small smile as she nudged my shoulder with her own, it sent a thrilling zap up my arm.

“Well, how about truth for truth?” I let my eyes drop as hers became guarded.

“I’ve never heard of that game.” Her tone was even warier than her face as she took a hesitant sip.

“I just invented it.” I shrugged, that earned me a booming laugh as she shook out her hair, her cheeks reddening.

“Okay fine. You first.” She insisted.

“What happened with Carver?” I held my breath as I waited for her response, suddenly unsure if I wanted to hear her answer.

Her reply was quick and flowed easy like someone telling the truth, like she was reciting a fact rather than creating a story. “After I was in the bathroom, I had to leave. Clear my head. Him and his team found me after the game, walking laps on the field. I thought it would help clear my head. It didn’t. Anyways when they offered me their celebratory drinks, I figured if fresh air wouldn’t do the trick, getting blind drunk probably would.” I shook my head at her, not knowing what I was more pissed at.

“You looked like a mess when I found you.” The words slipped past without permission, and my stomach clenched painfully as she glanced at me with knowing pity.

“I’d tripped like a hundred times. Pretty hard to see through the tears Ed.”

“Carver’s a dick and a liar.” She promised, sitting forward so I was forced to look at her. Something further released inside of me, relaxing me to the point that breathing no longer took effort. The bottle went slack in my hand resting against my leg as she glanced up expectantly at me through her thick lashes.

“What do you wanna know?”

“Chrissy… you said it was just drugs, was that true? Nothing happened between the two of you?” I’d wanted to scoff at her, be angry with her for thinking so little of me and that I could have moved on so fast and easily, but as I glared back down at her I could see my fault, because as new tears brimmed in her eyes and her lips quivered, anguish washed over me at the fact that if there was ever a doubt in her mind, then I had clearly failed in showing y/n how much she meant to me.

I slid the bottle into her hands so I could reach up to cup her cheeks between my stern fingers, holing her with a feather light touch, being ever so careful not to break her as I turned her face towards mine.

“It’s you. It’s only ever been you. It’s only ever going to be you.”

The tears overflowed and ran down her pink cheeks as her eyes fluttered closed. I let the rough tip of my fingers wipe away the stray drop that met the corner of her lips, wishing it was my touch on her mouth instead but not wanting to push it too far. I’d seen and touched intimate parts of y/n that she never would, but still I felt like I had to start from the beginning. My lips had just formed around the question when she pulled back sharply, sniffling, and wiping her nose with a humourless laugh, bringing the bottle back to her lips.

I let my hands fall back to my lap as I watched them clench.

“On the field.” She cut me off, spinning to the side and sloshing some of the dark liquid down her front, she barely noticed as she faced me with a frenzied, pleading look.

“It killed me, Eddie. To say those things, I know I already sort of explained this, but I need you to know. I – I…” She sighed, leaning back and tilting her head against the wall as I sat up, wanting to rip the words from her mind as she held them back from me. I slipped her cold hand into mine as I traced a soft circle pattern against it. At my touch, her eyes flashed open again.

“You were the best thing that ever happened to me Eddie, it was like my life was this grey, meaningless repeat of the same day – no, nightmare – until you came along. Even when we weren’t friends – “She stumbled over the underestimation of the word as we both shared a knowing laugh, no doubt her mind flashing to same angry memories we shared over each other.

“My point is, nothing had any meaning before you Edward. You – you aren’t like anyone I’ve ever met, you’re good and kind and make me laugh and I’ve never felt safer than when I’m with you.” She choked up slightly as my throat burned, unable to meet her eyes as her words made my heart sing and practically leap out of my chest. She took another long chug of the whiskey like she needed it to continue.

“I never meant to hurt you or lie to you or drag you into all of this.” She gestured her hand widely around the empty room, staring daggers like this Vecna character was lurking in the shadows behind the couch.

“I think I kind of got myself into this one y/n.” I scoffed, taking my own deep scull as I shook my head with self-deprecation as y/n trembled with anger.

“No Eddie, it’s me. I would have dragged you into this at some point or another. I’m cursed.” I knotted my brows together and readied myself to argue before she shot to her knees, tossing away the bottle as she kneeled in front of me and trapped my face between her hands.

“But I promise, I swear to you on everything that after we get out of this... I’m never going to put you in danger again.” Her face shone with, albeit, a more fiercer look than the one she had on when we met in the woods near school and I’d planned to sneak over to her home for the first time, but the trace of bad news still brewed under her pretty features, exactly like last time.

I couldn’t do it, not again, I wasn’t losing her again. Not after I just got her back.

With her pupils blown wide and her lips parted as her sweet, alcohol filled breath washed over me as her chest heaved in the dim light, I couldn’t help myself.

“Can I kiss you?”

Y/N | March 1986

After coming face to face with what was stalking me, threating everyone I loved and killing teenage Hawkins High students, it wasn’t a hard decision as I realised what needed to happen to keep Eddie safe, what I’d always known but just chosen out of selfishness to ignore.

Eddie would be in danger for as long as I was apart of his life, pretending that I didn’t love him and trying to stay away of my own accord, had failed. He’d been dragged into it all anyway. The others, my brother, Steve, and Robin, it wasn’t the same, most of them knew about the upside before I had, we were past the point of return of trying to save ourselves.

But it wasn’t too late for Eddie.

I knew what I had to do, but that thought didn’t make it any easier as I physically felt my heart slice into delicate pieces as my resolve hardened.

It’s why I didn’t hesitate as Eddie’s intimate and soft-spoken question hung in the heavy air between us. If I didn’t plan on letting my presence besmirch Eddie’s life for much longer, then I figured I may as well indulge myself right now while I still could, my throat closed around my answer painfully as the thought how much more it was going to hurt after this hit me like a boulder.

I nodded as the heat rose to my cheeks, gasping as Eddie’s hands wrapped around my thighs and pulled me into his lap. He gripped the sides of my face as I tried to crush myself to him, breathing in deeply as a whine built in my throat, his thumb ran over my cheekbone as he sweetly and softly brought his lips to mine, moulding against me with hurried intent as I responded with a moan, melting against the hard lines of his chest.

A mixture of salty tears that belonged to both of us helped our lips glide together easily as I ripped my mouth away from his, moving to the soft under skin of his jaw as he moaned my name, twisting his hands in my hair as I bit at his neck, trapping, and suckling at the skin until I left raw marks in the shape of my mouth, making Eddie shudder beneath my touch.

I felt his excitement grow as a pressure struggled against his jeans and his cheeks filled with embarrassment, avoiding my eyes as I pressed my smiling mouth against his exposed collar bone.

“First time?” I teased, rocking my hips down onto his hard cock.

“I just don’t want to push this – you.” He clenched his jaw under my touch but tightened his hands along my hips as they rocked back and forth, locking away his emotions as his guarded stare met mine, a rant of unsaid words glaring behind his heavy brows.

My heart clenched as I read the pain behind his eyes, even now after all of the reassurance and mounds of begging for forgiveness, my words on the field still stung deep.

Without breaking my eyes from his, I wrapped my hand around his wrist and guided his fingers under the fabric between my legs, a satisfying shiver rolling through me as his lips parted and his eyes visibly widened at the wetness there, all for him.

“I want you.” The sultry demand was dripping and laced with need as we both clashed together, all tongue and teeth, as pure desire overpowered me. Our moans and sounds of flesh smacking together could have burned holes through the walls as I threw my head back, loosing myself in the feeling of Eddie’s fingers working away at my release, his soft finger tip flicking faster over my clit as the moans tumbling from my mouth became shorter and quicker.

I shot up from Eddie’s lap like an electric current had zapped us both apart as the close sound of doors slamming broke through our heavy breathing, we were to distracted in the feeling of each other’s’ bodies and missed the growing sound of their engine.

Eddie shoved past me in panic as he vaulted himself over the back of the couch as he gripped at the window, cowering beneath the sill as he tried to stay hidden. His hands – reflecting slightly in the setting sun from my slick that coated his fingers – flexed angrily as he swore.

I was still frozen on the floor, half turned as I leant up from the floor. My blood ran cold as Eddie spun back to me with a frenzied look in his eyes, his face still flushed as the dark marks from my teeth showed no sign of fading along his neck.

My stomach lurched as Eddie ripped me to my feet, pushing his hand against my lower back to urge me forward as I planted myself and demanded an explanation.

“Carver and his cronies.” Eddie choked out, unyielding terror beginning to seep through his voice, the urge to protect him overwhelmed me but he was staring down at me with panic and concern like his safety was the last of his concerns, he had swerved in front of me to shield me with his chest, blocking me from view of the window as his fingers dug in painfully.

“Boat shed.” Eddie half growled, fed up with my icy hesitation as he dragged me across the quicky darkening living room floor towards the back door, my stomach dropped as I spotted Jason, Andy and Patrick storming down the uneven brick stairs straight towards where we were scarcely hidden, menacing crowbars swinging at their sides as they flexed their hands around the cold metal.

My worst fear was dressed in black tie, it looked like the inevitable man hunt had originated at a funeral. From the deranged, lifeless look in Jason’s eye’s, it seemed they had finally put what remained of Chrissy, to rest.

The alcohol that had warmly clouded my thoughts before, tangled my feet together as pure adrenaline shot through me and tightened my muscles, a metallic taste swirled on my taste buds as I roughly shoved at the back of Eddie’s jacket, yelling out a stream of profanities in a hushed tone as I tried to figure out a plan. He flattened himself to the side as he shoved open the creaking wire door, touching my lower back lightly as I shot out past him and down the stairs, slowing down at the water’s edge as I turned back to make sure he’d kept up with me. I flinched as his closeness caught me off guard, blocking out the slim slither of light that peaked through the curtains of the swaying tree branches.

“Shit shit shit, what are we gonna do?” I screeched, pressing my face into my hands as I considered our options. Eddie pulled out the walkie from inside of his vest, and I let out a deep relieved sigh that he’d had the forethought to grab it.

My stomach rolled as I watched the dark shadows pass the dirty windows of Ricks place, chewing at my raw nail beds as I sent a prayer out to anyone that might hear it that we wouldn’t be noticed anytime soon, I crouched down next to Eddie as the wind picked up and he brought the walkie to his mouth, spit flying between his teeth as he clenched his jaw.

“Hey Dustin, you there?” My teeth chattered and I jolted, burrowing down further against Eddie as clanging resounded out from the open front door of Ricks place.

“You remember us, right?” The radio line dropped out with a crunch as we were met with stone cold silence.

“We might be in a bit of trouble here. Wheeler? Anybody?!” He slammed the antenna down angrily as my eyes slipped past him to an aged fishing boat that barely looked big enough to hold one person. My nails dug into the leather of Eddie’s jacket as he followed my stare and nodded, shaking under my touch as he waved his hand out for me to go first.

With a quick glance at the where Jason and the others tore Ricks place apart as they searched for Eddie, I ran in quick little leaps across the wet grass, my shoulder burned as I let it reach out behind me, refusing to let go of him for even a second, afraid that without my eyes on him, he’d disappear into the oncoming darkness.

The water rippled against the head of the boat, making it sway and throb lightly as I lifted my leg to take a careful step, Eddie’s hand flashed out to support mine as I slipped against the wet metal flooring, helping me take a seat against the strip of wood baring down the middle of the boat. Dark stains splashed across Eddie’s jeans as he pushed us off from the shoreline, jumping in beside me as the boat rocked dangerously beneath us. I shivered into the night cold air as the fresh moonlight broke through the heavy clouds, shining a luminescent blue onto Eddie’s stressed face as he tried to form a smile and shoved a heavy oar into my hand.

I sucked in my cheeks and leant over the side, grimacing against the resistance as I dipped my paddle in the dark water and swung back, with Eddie’s combined strength we shot forward into deeper waters, rocking us in our seats.

I bit back a yell as an angry scream floated out across the lake’s surface, bouncing off the swaying trees the surrounded the edges. I watched a muscle in Eddie’s jaw clench and his eyes blow wide as we both spun around at the sound. Jason and the others were gathered on the shoreline, stripping off their clothes as they shouted out more profanities at the sight of us.

Eddie’s eyes snapped to mine for an instant before he shot up from the seat behind me to tear at the cord attached to the ancient motor.

I held my breath with him as his motions swayed us, ripples of miniature waves spiralling out from where drifted into larger circles.

Silence

“Come on, Fuck.” I gripped the wood besides my thigh painfully as Eddie swore under his breath, laughing at the dim hope I had that it would start. I glanced at the boys as they leant down to untie their laces, listening to Jason’s curt demands as he snapped at them and convinced them to swim out after us.

My legs shook like crazy as I stared at Eddie’s forearms tensing with each long, purposeful stroke as he spoke and begged to the engine like it wasn’t an inanimate object. I jumped to my feet as Jason ran towards to waterline, sending up loud splashes of water as his eyes trained on me, a revealing ferociousness flaring in them as his lips pulled back in a snarl.

Eddie’s sneakers kicked up and dislodged the layer of dirt the coated most of the surfaces as he flashed past me, yelling out a jumbled stream of directions as he didn’t pause for breath, shoving the oar back into my trembling hands as he leant over the helm, paddling furiously.

I was slow to join him as I refused to tear my eyes away from where Jason shot through the water with easy strokes like a shark as he closed in on us. A white foam filled the choppy waves that pulsed out from the boys naked chests.

“Eddie!” I cried out, stumbling away from the ledge of the boat as Jason’s pale arm reached for it.

Eddie shoved me the side roughly as he pushed forward, shielding me behind his shoulder as he brandished the dripping oar. “Hey stay back man, Stay back!” His eyes were unfamiliar to me as a rage filled strength seemed to overpower him.

All at once the water seemed to settle as a loaded silence filled the air in between our heavy breathing and slow laps of water slapped against the metal sides and the bright moon broke through the mixed clouds, shining down on the horrors beneath.

“Hey man we’ve almost got them.” Eddie’s arm lowered slightly like he already knew, the boat levelled beneath our feet as all sounds of the natural nature around us, vanished.

“Patrick?” Jason failing arms traced across the water as he shook out his hair and spat out accidently swallowed water. The younger and slower boy, Patrick, was gasping for breath as he swung his head around widely, his pupils blown wide as he searched for something that the rest of us couldn’t see or hear.

If I’d blinked, I would have missed it, Patrick’s head shot under the water entirely, disappearing under its black depths as the blank reflective surface calmed almost immediately. I turned to stare at Eddie to see my own panic and confusion reflected in his gaze as his eyes swept the water.

I shut out Jason’s shouts as my body tensed, the seconds ticking by at an agonizing pace as I waited for a glimpse of something. Cold droplets splashed against my cheek and damped my jeans as a roar echoed around us and Patricks body shot up from the water, hanging limply in the air with his eyes rolled back as Jason’s call died on his lips.

I didn’t need to see the colour drain from Eddie’s face or his muted gasp of ‘no’ to know that this was what he had struggled to describe about Chrissy as he held back tears. My stomach clenched as the first sickening snap rang in my ears before the boat lurched under me and Eddie’s back moved alarmingly closer to my face, slamming into me, and knocking my breath away as we both tumbled as one into the freezing water, plunging deeper as the cold bit into my skin and pounded on my ears, drowning out the next quick snaps as Patricks body dropped back into the lake a few paces from me. Through the air bubbles that ruptured around me as I kicked back towards the distorted image of the moon reflecting through the wavering surface, I watched the bloodied, empty eyes sockets and cracked slack jaw of Patrick disappear into the black water.

Eddie | March 1986

I had to remind myself to slow my pace again as y/n swiped a branch out of her way with a frustrated sigh, tripping over undergrown roots as she swore.

“Sorry.” I mumbled, stopping in my tracks, and reaching for her elbow as I held the low hung branch away from her scratched face. Her clothes were nearly dry now, same as mine save for my t-shirt plastered to my skin, hidden from the blaring sun under my leather jacket. We’d been walking – well running- all night, sweat dripping down the napes of our necks as we shared very few words between us. There was an alight moment after we’d dragged ourselves to the shoreline, soaked to the core and shivering against the mud before she nudged me, and we took off running before we stopped out of breath to figure out what the hell our next move was.

Y/n’s face had fallen as I patted my wet, empty jacket pockets, shaking my head with my lips pressed into a thin line as she asked about the walkie.

“I just got lost in my thoughts. I won’t go so fast.” I tried to muster up a small smile to soften my curt tone as she glanced up at me through heavy lashes, reaching up to squeeze my cheek as I let my eyes flutter close at her touch.

“I get it.” She murmured, tracing the thin membrane of skin across my cheekbone and across my nose, letting it rest at the corner of my mouth as my heartbeat raced.

Ridiculous, even here, on the run from supernatural monster alike, I couldn’t keep my thoughts off of her. The flash of Jason’s teammate body being snapped, burned behind my lids as I pulled away from her hand, running my own through my knotted locks as I spun away, looking up through the green canopy of treetops to the blaring blue sky as a flock of birds flew overhead. The woods were teeming with insect life as the groaning and ticking filled the silence between us as y/n chewed on the inside of her cheek.

“We need to contact the others. Tell them what happened, find out what they know.” She just started to suggest sneaking into her place when she was cut off by a resounding screech and rock clutter that scared a squirrel scampering up the trunk of a nearby tree.

“Come on.” My words were lost as I reached forward to take her warm hand in mine, linking our fingers as I dragged her through the tight woven branches behind me as I took off towards the tell tale sounds of a construction site, my idea taking root as a glimmer of hope twisted in my chest. I was back to square one, racing through the woods as I ran away from some unseen force that was snapping kids apart.

Except this time, I had y/n with me, and even though it shouldn’t have, because the thought made my chest warm and sent a sturdiness through me, I was grateful for it, but the stakes were higher this time. I might have had a sense of survival, but I would happily lay my life down for hers if it meant I could get her out of this.

I should have been the one putting on a brave face, coming up with ideas to save the day, but as she tightened her hand around mine and broadened her steps to keep up with me, her face full of determination, I couldn’t help being filled with awe.

I’d reverend her before, but seeing her like this now, lips parted as she panted, brows narrowed as her eyes darkened towards any sound that scurried underfoot. She was a force to be reckoned with, and for a moment, as her probing gaze met mine and the sunlight bounced across her face, deepening the colour of her eyes, I knew things would be okay as long as I had her with me.

I squeezed her fingers as the bush thinned, exposing piles of dust that clouded the hi-vis shirts of workmen that carried loads twice their weight and shouted back and forth at each other over the sounds of whirring machinery. I crouched down behind a berry bush, pulling her with me as I watched the movement of the construction crew dart between the open beams of the new building. There was a digger twice as tall as me and a port-a-potty close by, I shot down further into the shrubbery as a laugh echoed and beamed closer, one of the younger guys I vaguely recognised from the ‘Hideout’ had slung off his belt, leaving it along a bench as he went to relieve himself.

Before she could argue, I dropped y/n’s hand, shooting out into the open as my sneakers crunched against the gravel, with a quick look up at the group of men huddle around something in the middle of the concrete slab, groaning and rubbing their bald heads as some of them pulled their hats off on frustration. I bit down on my tongue as I freed the radio from its pocket, with a grin of success I took off running back to the woods, slamming into the portaloo as I stumbled. I left the angry, muffled shout of ‘hey’ from inside of it behind as y/n yanked me down beside her.

“Eddie!” She hissed, digging her nails in. “don’t do that again, you can’t just go rushing off.” She threw her hand around wildly before letting it fall to her lap as I held up the radio between us with a smirk.

“What’s the station?"

“Dustin, can you hear me? Wheeler?” I stared up at y/n’s slightly quivering form as we waited for a hopeful response. I’d offered her a seat along the aged mattress under Skull Rock that was littered with beer cans and cigarettes and had seen more teenage antics than King Harrington himself. She’d shot me a disgusted, disbelieving look and opted to stand against the smooth rock face, watching the shadows linger across from her.

“Eddie! Are you guys okay? Where’s y/n?” She jolted at Dustin’s voice, running to my side as I pumped my fist in success.

“Nah man, pretty goddamn far from okay.” Y/n pressed her lips together as I rubbed mine.

“Where are you guys?” I could hear a mixture of voices and a strange clicking as y/ns face stared back at me with the same questioning look.

“Skull rock. Do you know it?”

“Uh yeah.” The line dropped out as someone spoke over little Henderson.

“Hold tight. We’re coming. We’re coming.” It crackled back up as Dustin let out a hurried and rushed assurance before the static spiked and then silenced completely.

I let the radio fall between my feet as I rubbed my eyes, shielding it from the hammering sunlight as I felt y/n move beside me.

“Ugh, more waiting.” She groaned, pressing her fingers against her temples as she rubbed slow circles, her hand shot up to hold a finger in the air at me as my snarky remark died on my lips.

‘And before you say, ‘so impatient’, how do you suggest we pass the time Eddie?” She raised her eyebrows at me sarcastically as a slow grin spread across my face.

Disbelief and shock made her drop her hands as I nodded my head at the mattress, cocking my brow in a suggestive question as she stared back at me, resting birds took flight quickly as the sharp octaves of her laugh reverberated across the trees, slinking down my back to warm my core as I watched her relax with a small smile on my face.

“Let me know if I need to sing again.” Her smile sobered up as it slid from her face at my words, paling as the clouds shrouded together heavily over head, blocking out the warming sunbeams as engulfing shadows slid between the cracks of Skull Rock.

Chapter Thirteen Part one

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