#marjorie does it again

[megankoumori]

[berryberrytaeberry]

on a scale of Rascal Flatts to Taylor Swift which one is most egregious RE: being my favorite for insane Lan Wangji tiktok edit audios thanks.

and yes, I am serious, unfortunately this is my cross to bear

[rdr2gifs]

Each time Arthur has helped someone without expecting payment (that I can remember) because I’ve seen some weird takes circling around about how Arthur only cares about money/doesn’t help people (yet again)

He helped a city photographer take pictures and acted as his protector because he liked him

He helped a doctor retrieve a stolen wagon full of medicine, he wasn’t even asked to do so, he did it out of his own good will

He wanted to make an old cranky man happy and proposed finding his lost trinkets for him

He helped Deborah MacGuiness find dinosaur bones out of curiosity. He didn’t receive any financial reward for it. Just a few trinkets and he was satisfied

He risked his life for Marko Dragic’s experiments (his main motivation in this mission was again, curiosity)

He rescued a boy being held hostage by the gunsmith in Rhodes

He rescued people from being trafficked and gave them a large sum of money (he could’ve kept it for himself) for a better life

He helped Mr. White and Mr. Black gain freedom and even helped them again after they got themselves into trouble

He rescued Charles Chatenay on at least 3 different occasions

He instantly hurried to retrieve Sister Calderon’s cross even though he has never met her before

In his first encounter with Marjorie and Bertram, he helps to calm Bertram down and is understanding even though Bertram gave him trouble. He even puts the bartender in his place after he speaks about Bertram in a degrading manner

He agreed to help a man get rid of nigh folk occupying his property and after he payed him with only a rat pelt, Arthur didn’t get angry and still asked him if he’d be really fine on his own after knowing he wouldn’t be able to pay

He let a homeless man hug him and listened to what he has to say

He helped to save Jamie from becoming a cult member and stopped him from taking his life

He helped a boy look for his lost dog

He saved an injured man’s life after driving him to a doctor

He helped a woman get rid of a body after she claimed she had to kill the man in self-defence

He donated to the poor and even to build a shelter for war-veterans

He taught Charlotte how to survive on her own

He tried to save a crazed village out of his own good will

He helped a war veteran retrieve his prosthetic leg and helped him hunt

He helped a man look for his lost friend in the snowy mountains

He helped Rain’s Fall retrieve sacred items important to his people

He helped to retrieve stolen medical supplies for the Wapiti tripe

He saved Captain Monroe’s life after hearing he was in danger

He helped Beau and Penelope escape from their terrible families

He has saved many hunters from getting mauled, given many ladies a ride home, saved people from dying of poisoning, helped gather herbs, helped a lost New Yorker find his way to the town, helped save many people’s lives (lady being held hostage in her own house in Lemoyne, folk getting tortured by The Murfees or Lemoyne Raiders etc.)

Let’s not forget the fact that Arthur is a provider for over 20 people. He cannot be running around and risking his life for free for everyone he meets. He needs money. Even so, he has helped all the people above for no reward and out of his own free will. When I see someone say that Arthur is only motivated by money and never helps people otherwise, I just instantly assume they stormed through the story and didn’t pay any attention. The encounters listed above make up the majority of chance encounters/side quests and in almost all of them he is helping people. 80% of these are also pre-diagnosis.

He has a hard time accepting any compliments or gratitude for his good deeds and always downplays himself. Even in the main story he is never thinking about himself and he always puts others first.

“You did not ask for anything, you only gave”

The encounters where he does require payment pale in comparison to those in which he doesn’t, and even so they are very justified as they are often dangerous, time consuming or straight up ridiculous. It’s weird to assume Arthur only helps people for money when he doesn’t want to deliver love letters, interview dangerous people and sneak into heavily guarded properties for free.

[taylorman2274]

We Care About You (Part III)

Those who have been with you since the beginning discuss the differences they've noticed with and without your presence.

Content Warning(s): Jean, Kaeya, & Albedo Story Quest Spoilers; Mondstadt Archon Quest Spoilers

Notes: SAGAU; GN!Reader; [T/N] = Traveler Name

Word Count: 2.1k

Previous || Next

Taglist: @silverstarred; @victoria1676; @angelofdarkness2; @areaderspov; @andromeda-gay; @ash1; @mercy-not-merci; @toodledoodl3;

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The sun had fully risen over the horizon by the time all the stores in Mondstadt's main plaza had opened for the day. Blanche was finishing setting up her fruit trays on the counter by the time Marjorie and Timeaus arrived at their respective stores. Sara, on the other hand, had already opened up Good Hunter half an hour ago. This was in case there were any early birds or if any of the aforementioned shopkeepers wanted a quick bite to eat before work.

Today, the Traveler and Paimon were examples of early birds, as the two were enjoying breakfast from Good Hunter. However, as they were eating their respective meals, they were approached by Raymond, a Knight of Favonius.

"Morning, Traveler. Morning, Paimon," he greeted. "Sorry to interrupt your meal, but I'm here to inform you that your presence has been requested by the Acting Grand Master. She requests that you head on over to headquarters immediately."

Paimon groaned. "Does Jean really have to summon us this early? Paimon hasn't even finished her Fisherman's Toast yet."

"I apologize once again, but it would be rude to keep the Acting Grand Master waiting," Raymond replied.

The Traveler shook their head. "No worries. I'm just about finished anyway." They got up from their seat. "Would you like for me to get you a takeaway, Paimon?

"Get a takeaway? Has Paimon not already proved to you what she's capable of? Watch this!" Paimon proclaimed before chowing down the rest of her Fisherman's Toast as quickly as Paimonly possible.

...Said way involved burying herself nose-deep in her plate and practically inhaling all the food left on her plate. The Traveler and Raymond even had to hold their hands up to their faces to protect themselves from any flying food.

Maybe they shouldn't have bought her a triple stack...

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Despite being invited by Jean herself, The Traveler decided to knock on her office door. It was only proper manners.

"Enter."

They opened the door and allowed Paimon to enter first before letting themselves in. As soon as Jean recognized them, she gracefully got up from her chair and walked around to the front of her desk.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice, Honorary Knight. I know you must be tired.”

The Traveler shook their head. "It was no trouble. Paimon and I were already up to begin with."

"Is that so? It's a shame my cuties didn't think to greet me in the library first thing in the morning. Your company can certainly revitalize this mage's energy." Came a voice to their left. Both newcomers swiveled their heads to look at the other visitor partially hidden in the corner.

"Lisa? Were you called here by Jean as well?" questioned Paimon.

"I was," Lisa confirmed, perplexion etched on her face, "Though I haven't been told why yet."

"I called you both here for the same reason. However, not everyone has arrived yet. We're still waiting on two more people. Once they’ve arrived, I’ll explain everything," Jean explained.

To pass the time, the Traveler, Paimon, and Lisa began to catch up with each other on what had happened since they last met while Jean leaned against her desk and peeked at the ticking clock on the wall from time to time.

She wasn't worried about the other two members being late. They each were fellow Knights of Favonius members after all. They know the standards that need to be set in order to maintain their position.

A few minutes later, everyone in the office could hear rapid footsteps from outside the room. Not even a second later the door was thrown open by Amber who quickly entered the room and put her hands on her knees to catch her breath.

pant ... pant ... "Sorry I'm late, Jean. I got caught up with something."

Jean shook her head. "Not to worry, Amber. We haven't started talking about anything yet." Jean snuck a peak behind Amber towards the open door. "Did you happen to see Kaeya on the way here?"

Amber straightened up and nodded her head. "I did, actually. He's..."

"Right here."

Kaeya smoothly walked into the office and quietly shut the door Amber left open behind him.

Jean gave a quick nod. "Good. That should be everybody." Everyone gathered around Jean in a semi-circle. "I bet you're all wondering why I've called you here this early."

"To put it simply, I'd rather get this discussion out of the way before we all start work for the day. This mainly concerns the Traveler, but I promise you all are important to this discussion as well."

Jean turned her attention to the Traveler. "First off, how are your adventures going?"

The Traveler looked at Jean in confusion. Jean called all of them here just to ask them about their adventures? "...Pretty well I guess. I've hit a few obstacles here and there but it was nothing I couldn't handle."

Jean nodded. "That's good to hear. And what about this latest obstacle you're facing?"

Now it was Paimon's turn to be confused. "Latest obstacle...?" she murmured, "Oh! Do you mean [Y/N]?"

Amber, Lisa, and Kaeya all widened their eyes in surprise as they looked at Paimon. Jean nodded once again.

"Yes. That's exactly the reason why I've called you all here. Although I may not know much about [Y/N], I understand that you all have had some experience with them. If you could tell me all that you know about them, I'll get a better understanding of what our next action should be."

The Traveler nodded in understanding before looking around at the others. "Should I go first, or do you all want to share your thoughts now?"

Amber was the first to reply. "Sure! I'll go first. In my opinion, the Traveler and [Y/N] are the same person, but also different people. When I first met the Traveler outside of the Whispering Woods, they introduced themselves as [Y/N]. However, once we dealt with the sources of Stormterror's power in the abandoned Four Winds' Temples, they seemed much livelier. That was when they explained that they were actually [T/N], and [Y/N] was this 'ghost or entity-like thing' that possessed them against their will.

Lisa nodded. "It's true. When we were traversing through the last temple, I felt as if my body was not under my control, but I was still conscious to witness what I was doing. It was scary at first, but after a while, I kind of got used to it."

Jean raised a skeptical brow. "And why is that?"

"Because [Y/N] and I were trying to achieve the same thing. They guided me through the temple, defeated all of the enemies, and destroyed Stormterror's crystal, all things that I originally intended to do myself."

Jean brought a hand to her chin. "Interesting..."

Kaeya raised his hand, signaling to speak next. "It's not just that, either. Later on when I had the Traveler lure some Treasure Hoarders to some ruins, one of them accidentally activated a Ruin Guard while attempting to flee. We managed to take it down, of course, while being guided by [Y/N], but I noticed that I had gotten stronger in between fighting the treasure hoarders outside the ruins and fighting the Ruin Guard. We defeated the Ruin Guard a lot quicker than I thought we would."

Jean furrowed her brows. "But Ruin Guards are a lot harder to defeat than mere Treasure Hoarders. Surely you must be exaggerating?"

Kaeya chuckled. "I can assure you, Jean. The strength I gained when guided by [Y/N] is no exaggeration. Surely you must've felt their presence yourself?"

"Outside of the day when I got burnout, no. But even then, I didn't exactly feel I was much stronger."

"Oh!" Amber blurted out. "Speaking of getting stronger, I've noticed that [Y/N] has improved some of my abilities as well! For example, the day before we pulled that whole sleeping stunt on [Y/N], we were helping them complete some commissions around Mondstadt. While we were completing them, I noticed that I could suddenly fire two arrows with one shot! Not only that, but I was able to manually detonate my Baron Bunny by shooting at it!"

Amber frowned. “The only downside is that I haven't had much success replicating these abilities when I'm not with [Y/N].”

"So you've noticed as well?" Lisa asked. "I thought I was the only one to notice." She turned her attention back to Jean. "You see, [Y/N] typically has me defeat hydro slimes whenever they appear, and with them I'm normally able to defeat them in one or two hits. However, I wanted to test a theory I've been thinking about recently. So I went to go find a hydro slime and see how many hits it took to defeat it. Just as I thought, it took nearly double the number of hits before it was beaten."

"I see. And is this something that we should look into?"

"No. I just thought it was something worth mentioning."

"Alright then. And when [Y/N] does guide you, is it only to complete commissions?" Jean inquired.

"Oh no!" Amber eyes sparkled. "We've been helping the Honorary Knight and [Y/N] all across Teyvat! It's amazing!"

Jean smiled. "Then you all must be enjoying your adventures, I presume?"

"But of course!" exclaimed Amber. "I've always wanted to see the world beyond Mondstadt and it's just as grand as I imagined."

"That's good to hear." Jean then looked down at the floor and sighed. "...Honestly, there are times when I wish I could throw my work to the side and travel alongside you, Honorary Knight."

"Paimon is certain that [Y/N] would love to have you join their Adventure Team! If it becomes possible, Paimon will put in a good word for you."

Jean chuckled. "Thanks, Paimon." She turned her attention to the Traveler. "And what about you? What do you know about [Y/N]?"

"It's a pretty long story. The first time I ever got a clue as to who [Y/N] was was when I was in the middle of helping Albedo with his research. During the middle of some experiments, I felt their presence leaving. However, almost immediately after they left I saw a bright light in the sky. It only lasted for a few seconds, but when the light went away, I saw that it had come from Celestia!"

Jean looked shocked for a moment but quickly composed herself. She had an image to maintain after all. "Really?! From Celestia?"

"Yes. Albedo saw it as well and it piqued his curiosity. To make a long story short, he found out that for a brief moment, the light that spawns from Celestia forms as if one is opening a door to an unlit room. He hypothesizes that whoever [Y/N] is, they are not from Celestia but somewhere beyond it. Maybe even another world entirely."

Kaeya smirked. "From another world, eh? So does that mean [Y/N] is an alien?"

The Traveler shook their head. "I don't think so. Most of the worlds I traveled to before Teyvat were inhabited by humans. I would assume that if [Y/N] is from another world, they would be human as well.

"How certain are you?" inquired Jean.

"I'm like 90% certain they're human," the Traveler confirmed. Amber hummed in thought.

"Do you think they might be a god?"

“A god whose eyes are focused on a world separate from theirs? Sounds unlikely to me,” countered Lisa.

"Regardless..." Jean interjected. "[Y/N] has been absent for a while now, correct?" The Traveler nodded. "Have you thought about continuing your journey without them should they not come back?"

"I've had the thought. But I'm willing to wait however long is necessary if it means I get to see them again."

Jean put a hand to her chin. "Are you sure? I would gladly be willing to have Amber, Lisa, or Kaeya travel with you for the foreseeable future."

Paimon nodded. "It's been almost a week since that incident, and yet Paimon has never seen the Traveler lose any determination at all!"

Jean nodded as well. "I see. In that case, I believe that is all I have to say for this discussion. It was nice meeting you once again, Honorary Knight."

"The same goes for you, Jean.”

Everyone exchanged goodbyes with each other and, minus Jean, prepared to leave the office. However, just before they left...

"Hey. Is it just me, or is it getting brighter outside?"

Kaeya looked towards Amber. "I'm sure it's just the clouds moving past the sun."

Amber shook her head, keeping her gaze towards the window. "No... I didn't see any clouds when I first came in..."

The room was silent. Some looked to the window while others kept their attention on Amber.

Suddenly, Paimon gasped.

"Paimon!" The Traveler shouted in surprise. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"...They're back..." she whispered.

The Traveler tilted their head. "Who's back?"

Paimon was too stunned to speak, but it didn't take long for the Traveler to figure out why. Their eyes grew wide in shock.

"[Y/N]!!" They suddenly exclaimed as they bolted past everyone. Everyone quickly followed the Traveler outside.

Once they all gathered outside. They quickly turned their gaze towards Celestia. Just as they thought, a light, though less noticeable during the day, was slowly getting brighter.

"Sorry, Jean! We've got to go! Don't wanna be late!" Paimon quickly said before everyone aside from Jean was teleported away.

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"It sure is taking a long time to check for updates," you thought.

After countless research, note-taking, and several anxiety breakdowns, you were finally ready to hop back onto Genshin and meet up with the people who you now realize are alive and sentient.

"I hope all this makes a good impression on them."

The door appeared.

With one click, you would be back to where this trouble all started…

Breathe in… Breathe out…

click

The door opened.

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Author Side Notes: I looked at my fanfiction and decided that it needed LORE™

Once again, I'll be editing this chapter over the next upcoming days. I sort of prefer it as opposed to keeping this in my drafts. I don't want you all waiting for the next part too long!

[wardenparker]

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

My Masterlist!

[dorotheado]

OK NOW THAT IM ALIVE AND MY BRAIN IS WORKING i want to comment on some things that i noticed at the eras tour that i think are super cool & underrated

stage effects during blank space where she looks like a magazine. all the stage versions doing the same choreo. sooo cool

during lwymmd when the lights in the crowd make a literal spinning cube !!!! what !!!!! how do they do it!!!!!

the way that at the end of the man when she's ascended to the highest level, the entire structure lowers into the stage and everything is just a little more accessible. nice.

the way the trees grow on stage for evermore? thats funky

also the way the torch light in marjorie makes the stadium soooo well lit and suddenly you can see everything? thats crazy

the reputation transition does a LOT for the hype like wow!!! its not just the set its also the transition!!!!

delicate stage has been talked abt many times but its just sooooo good!!!!!!!

the way the speak now set is the best set in the show and enchanted isnt even my fav from speak now.... screaming it in a stadium changed it for me!!!!!

the red set is soooo hyped jaime was right

once again have to say: 'tell him he's dreaming' fixed me!!!!!!! thank u kam!!!!!

during august the fucking light up bracelets make the most gorgeous colours i s2g i tried to film it every time but couldnt get the brightness to work for me hahahhaa

the hand up at the end of tlgad! such cute choreo for that whole song but i love that last little flick hehe

obsessed w bad blood tbh it was soooo fun to sing

mastermind bracelets were sooo fun (also mastermind choreo but that was obvious its just ao good)

its also crazy how much bejeweled grew on me from seeing it live

THE TODDLER WALK IN ANTI HERO IN THE LAST CHORUS WHERE SHE SWINGS HER HANDS!!!!!!!! soooo underrated i love it.

[poisonous-honey]

Just Unbuilt, Or Am I Unwanted?

As you try to improve Xiao's build for the 100th time, some of the others finally lose their patience

Who's Here! Amber, Aether, Lyney, Childe, and Paimon. The reader/player is off to the side with Xiao

Contains: Self Aware Genshin/SAGAU (Not The Cult), Childe being stupid (Childe slander), Angst if you squint but it's really just crack

Notes: Saw the idea from @devildomangel and kinda just ran with it. Because I took the idea from her Xiao is the player's main unit in this. Which is kinda unfortunate cause that means he's only talked about lol

---

Walking through Mondstadt, Amber is on her way to Good Hunter for her lunch break when she sees the traveller apparate before the fountain. His appearance usually means the player has logged on again so she swiftly abandons her lunch plans and rushes over to the traveller, waving her arms in greeting.

“Hey traveller! Welcome back to the land of the living!”

Aether turns in Amber’s direction before giving her a little smile and waving back. 

“Hey Amber. Good to be back.”

“Has the player finally logged on again?”

He sighs. It’s just his luck the first person he talks to wants to talk more about you than him. 

“Yeah.”

“What’re their plans today?”

And of course it’s just his luck he has to crush their spirits. What a wonderful way to start his day.

“... What do you think”

Amber pouts at that. You promised you’d build her sometime ago, but it feels like it’s been a year since you said that, and she’s still only level 60! She’s been sitting here off to the side for how long while your ‘darling’ is getting all your love and attention. There are so many characters that deserve some time, promises of stronger builds that need to be fulfilled, but you just won’t! Either you're willingly not doing it or you just forgot. She doesn’t know which one’s worse.

“A-are you sure? Maybe they’re going to work on someone else today! Maybe they’re going to work on Collei, or Lynette, o-or-”

“Amber please,” Aether sighs again and looks quite exasperated as he turns to Amber “... It’s Xiao again.”

As Amber is about to try and counter his claim, they hear the teleport waypoint activate and quickly hide out of view of the camera.

“Kathryn, expeditions, blacksmith, uhh I think I have to go to the Serenitea Pot today- wait what domain was I going to do again?”

Peaking around Marjorie’s shop, they watch as you hand in the daily commissions you didn’t do. Amber was hoping to hear you talk about anyone else to prove Aether wrong please prove him wrong while he wanted to make sure Amber didn’t do anything rash.

“Oh right I was going to farm Marechaussee Hunter today.”

Sparkles appeared in Amber’s eyes as she quickly turned to Aether, “Did you hear that? That’s the Denouncement of Sin domain-”

“It’s actually Denouement of Sin.”

“Oh! Thank you, but more importantly it’s not The Lost Valley! That means it’s not Vermillion Hereafter which means it’s not Xiao!”

Aether doesn’t know if he should be amused or sad for her. “Just give it a second.”

She tilts her head “Why would-”

“With Hunters Xiao basically has 60 CRT rate off hop. Paired with Jade Spear it’s 80… something. I’d barely need any CRT rate rolls and can stack so much CRT damage and ATK. It probably won’t be that much better than the sets I already have, but funny numbers win in the end time to farm for his fourth set!”

You teleport away, none the wiser to the despair you just put Amber in. All Aether does is pat her back before getting ready to teleport himself.

“I tried to warn you not to get your hopes up.”

Amber barely hears him as she drowns herself in self-pity. Looking like a husk of the person she is “... He’s getting a fourth. I don’t even have one.”

Aether winces, but can’t think of anything to say that might lift her spirits. He doesn’t think there is anything that can, so he teleports to Fontaine.

---

As he lands at the closest waypoint north of the domain and starts walking towards it, he notices a certain top hat individual staring in the direction of Denouement of Sin. As Aether gets closer he hastily turns around upon hearing his footsteps. Getting over his slight panic he brightly smiles.

“Oh ho if it isn’t the traveller! What brings you to this part of Fontaine during such a fine afternoon?’

“I’m here to keep an eye on our player Lyney. As usual. Seeing as you’re not making your way over to the domain I assume you’re not here to do the same?” Aether questions in a deadpan voice and crosses his arms, not up to deal with Lyney’s antics at the moment.

Lyney’s lips twitch downwards and a look of sadness crosses his face for a split second before he puts up his smile again. “Getting right to it, I see. Well I actually was here to watch our dear player, since they are technically farming for me as well today, but on my way over I happened to notice someone enter the side entrance to the domain. That’s not so suspicious on its own, but they were being awfully secretive about it.”

Aether’s eyes widen “Wait. Do you think they’re going to the backroom where the artifact codes are?”

“Bingo! I had stopped to ponder what my next course of action should be, leave and get help or spy on them by myself, when you just so happened to show up! Don’t you think we should go see what they’re up to?”

---

Aether and Lyney quietly enter the hidden side entrance in the mountain. Spawning on the outer regions of the domain they swiftly make their way to the backroom through the trees while trying not to slip on the wet grass into the water.

After a few close calls and one save from a floating jellyfish, they jump from the broken bridge into the backroom behind the Petrified Tree. There, standing in front of a clear screen with a heap of intelligible jargon and surrounded by machinery and wires is-

“Childe?” “Master Tartaglia?”

“Oh hello comrades!” He turns around and waves. Like he didn’t just enter territory that the Archons personally had restricted.

Seeing Childe standing over the console with the code open alarms both the other men at the scene.

Aether ignores him and sharply walks over to turn off the console when Childe blocks his path. Aether sends him the hardest glare he could.

“What do you think you’re doing Childe?”

“Hm? Oh, you mean the code! I’m just looking there’s no need for you two to worry!”

“With all due respect Master Tartaglia,” Lyney interjects as politely as he could to his superior while still being stern “That’s not exactly believable when barely anyone in Teyvat can even understand the player's written language.”

They all stand there in silence for a second before they hear Xiao’s plunge attacks and your laughs from the room over. This ticks off Childe more than he’d like to admit.

“Okay you got me I wasn’t initially here to just look, but, like you said, I can’t decipher what any of this means, so I was going to leave it alone anyway.”

Aether puts his hands on his hips with a disappointed look while Lyney crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow.

“So what were you going to do before?”

Childe turns back to the code “Well I was wondering if changing the rates to impossible odds would convince our dear player to finally see that they don’t need to work on some washed up warrior anymore and start building someone else for a change.”

In exasperation Aether pinches the bridge of his nose “Do you really not realize how stupid your plan is?”

“What no it’s great. After a little while they’d realize that continuing to build this guy is a waste of time when he’s been done for so long already. Maybe it’d get them to finally finish my own artifacts.”

“Doing this would cause the opposite effect of what you’re looking for. Just wait your turn.”

“It hasn’t been my turn in ages, comrade.”

Aether getting increasingly more done with this conversation pulls his sword out at Childe. “Step away from the console.”

Childe forms his hydro weaponry in retaliation and points one in Aether’s direction “Like you can get me to do anything by only pointing a sword in my direction.”

Lyney, realizing that starting a fight while the console is still on and the code still visible might not be the best idea, goes to step in between them. “Listen I don’t think-”

“WHAT’S GOING ON HERE!?”

“Paimon?”

The outburst from Paimon causes Lyney to instantly turn around, and he loses his footing, causing him to fall straight into Childe. Childe in turn quickly puts his hand onto the wall next to him to stabilize himself and keep Lyney from crashing into the floor.

Childe pushes himself off the wall and puts Lyney back into a standing position. 

“Thanks, I-” Lyney suddenly stops and stares in horror behind him.

“What? What is it?”

Childe turns around and sees the jagged hole in the screen and the machinery behind it. It stutters and flickers, scrambling the code before finally shutting down. He winces when he realizes he forgot to make his hydro weapons fade away. He tries to shrug it off, but can’t help the feeling this is the worst way his issue could’ve been solved.

“Well, I guess that’s one way to solve a problem?”

They all look at him in disbelief and soon Paimon is stomping in the air angrily.

“UGH! Paimon didn’t take you to be this big of an idiot! How did this happen? Why are you all even here??”

“We were following Master Tartaglia to see what he was up to. He wanted to change the artifact rates to be near impossible. He didn’t explain what about the rates he was even changing.”

Paimon backs in shock “WHAT? Why would you even do that. How does that solve any problem you could be having?”

For the second time Childe tries to get his opinion across. “Once the player sees they’re not getting anything good from this domain, surely they’ll pivot and work on someone else. Preferably me.”

“PAIMON CAN’T BELIEVE PAIMON’S OPINION OF YOU COULD GET ANY LOWER! That’s not what’s going to happen at all! All the player is going to think is that they’re getting really unlucky and will keep trying. Why would getting ‘unlucky’ make them try to build someone else when they think the artifact rates are the same everywhere. It’s just going to make building Xiao take even longer!”

It finally sinks into his head how bad this decision of his was and pure dread spreads across his face. 

He grabs Aether by his shoulder and swings his free arm in the general direction of the broken code “No wait surely we can fix this. It was just an accident I didn’t mean to actually go through with it.”

Aether sighs and crosses his arms “I’m sure the only beings capable of fixing this mess are the Archons.”

Hearing that the Archons might have to get involved stresses Lyney out of his mind.  “Are you sure? I can’t see the gods taking kindly to us even entering this room in the first place, let alone destroying the code.”

“I could ask if Albedo knows how. Though I doubt he’d fix it much faster than someone like the dendro Archon could.”

Paimon nods along with the traveller “Yeah! He’d also treat you way worse than the dendro Archon since it’s the player you’re upsetting. Nahida is probably your best option.”

“What do you mean ‘your’? This is partly your fault too Paimon.”

Paimon starts to argue with Aether that she was barely in the room, so there’s no way it could be her fault, while Lyney silently hopes Lynette is doing well. Childe wants to argue he could handle anything that either god or human would throw at him, before your voice suddenly rings throughout the room. 

“Damn nothing again? I guess I just started, but I’d like to get something with at least CRT damage. I just want to see some funny numbers game.”

Paimon leaves them to their frenzy, discretely slipping back to your side. The three hooligans all look at each other before hurriedly exiting the domain and rushing to Sumeru to get anyone to try and fix it.

You get nothing good out of that domain for the rest of the month.

[crazyk-imagine]

Ruined Relationships, but the Love is There

Pairing: Mark Sloane x Ex-Girlfriend!reader

Characters: Mark Sloane, Ex-Girlfriend!reader, Kara Sloane, Jackson Avery, April Kepner, Meredith Grey, Christina Yang, Derek Sheppard, George O'Malley, Owen Hunt, Addison Montgomery (briefly mentioned)

Warnings: Angst, fluff, cheating, adultery, ooc peeps, minor cursing, drama (what else would you expect), like a lot of drama, near death experience, classic grey's things going on here, cheating, bad relationships, mentions of pregnancy, keeping children hidden from father, car accidents, reader is a doctor, everyone is in kahoots, Christina is into beating, Meredith and Derek are cute, Bailey is great as always, George is here and lives, no mentions of Izzie or Alex, friendships between Mark and Meredith, plus Mark and Christina, Christina is a secret romantic at heart

Word Count: 4,593

A/N: I feel like everyone is ooc but idc bc I love this fic

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

You ignore him, praying to whatever god is listening to keep him away from you.

Meredith and Christina notice the tension in your shoulders, sharing a look.

“You know I don’t care about a lot of people but, are you okay?” the curly haired female asks.

You shrug, acting as if nothing has changed. “I’m fine, why?”

Meredith chimes in. “You’re looking a little-“

“Squirrely?”

“I was gonna go with tense but squirrely works.”

You huff through your nose, “would you two shut up.” You hand the clipboard back to your favorite nurse, Marjorie. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You spin around and walk out, not looking back.

Derek shakes his head, watching you basically run out of the hospital.

Mark glances behind him, not finding who he wanted and sighs. He looks up to see his friend and offers a small wave.

The ferry boat lover nods to acknowledge him.

The plastic surgeon bids the others goodbye and stands in front of the doors, thinking about everything that led him here.

You drive past him without realizing it as he thinks of your face when you caught him in bed with Addison.

His eyes trail on the car, wishing he could see you again and not just glimpses.

-

You roll your eyes and walk away across the bridge, not caring how unprofessional you look. “I’m not talking to you.”

He picks up his pace, following after you. “Please just-“

You scoff, spinning around to face him, “no, I tried before. I did and then,” you lean forward poking him in his chest, “you decided to stick your dick in someone else. Someone who was married and oh, yeah, not your girlfriend.” You cross your arms, “so, excuse me for not being particularly excited at the sight of you.”

“Fiancé.”

You blink once, furrowing your brows. “What?”

“I was,” he gulps. "I was going to propose to you that night.” He pulls the little black box out of his pocket, handing it to you.

”Before or after you screwed Addison,” you bitterly add, staring at the box. If you open it, that's giving him hope.

"I- she came to me and-“

You scoff hard enough for the vibrations to scratch your throat for a few seconds. “I cannot believe this- you- you think it’s okay to just- I’m done.”

“Please don’t,” he begs, eyes getting glossier the more you talk. “Don’t say it.”

Your bottom lip wobbles, removing your gaze from him. “I’m done with this, with us, and you. Now, you get to deal with the guilt. If you have any at all.” You slam the box in his hand and walk away.

Nothing could have prepared anyone at the hospital for this.

You know they’re all looking at you and it pisses you off. “What are you looking at?!”

Christina does damage control, stopping everyone from getting your wrath.

-

Meredith finds him in the on-call room, she was hoping to nap before joining in on a surgery but seems like the universe had other plans. ”You uh- okay?”

He fiddles with the box, staring at the diamond that taunts him. “Does it look I’m okay?”

She shrugs, “not really but it’s better than admitting you were stupid for messing things up with her.”

“My mistake brought Derek to you, didn’t it?”

“Why are you here?”

“If I go to Joe’s I’m going to sleep around, proving her point.”

“And staying here?”

“I don’t know where else to go. Derek is still upset with me, and I don’t blame him, but I know he loves you and I don’t need to hear a speech from him. I’m not ready for him to tell me I messed up more than any of us want to admit.”

“Why did you do it?”

“Do what?” He asks, finally looking up from the ring. “I was scared.”

“To,” she gestures to the ring.

“That and be a husband.”

“You weren’t scared of asking, it was the commitment that got you, I can understand it.”

“No, no," he shakes his head. "I didn’t think- I knew I wouldn’t be a good husband. I- everyone only saw the bad, my parents, Derek at times but she didn’t. She never did and that’s why I,” he lets out a tearful chuckle, “that’s why I fell for her. She saw the good no one else did and I screwed it up.”

Meredith hands him a tissue.

“You tell anyone about this, and I’ll let you observe one of my surgeries beside me.”

“I wasn’t but if you’re offering.”

The two chuckled.

-

Christina owlishly blinks, watching as you work on your last patient for the day as if nothing’s happened.

“How can she just put it all behind her?” George questions, sitting beside her.

“Having a nervous breakdown earlier in the day helps.”

“I feel like there should be someone sitting between us.”

The future cardiologist shrugs, “suit yourself.”

“You’re going to check on her after she’s done, right?”

“I’ll talk to her, if she opens up, good for her.”

A smile dances across his lips, happy that someone’s going to check on you; he likes you and admires your work, knowing you could be someone as well-known as Ellis Grey.

-

“Can you teach me your sutures?”

You ignore her and finish checking over your charts. “Yours are fine. Tell me the real reason you're bugging me.”

She purses her lips, not wanting to admit it out loud. “Are you okay?”

“You really want to know?”

She hesitates to nod. “I… do.”

“It sucks. Everything just… sucks. I don’t want to be here, but this is the only place that makes me feel calm.” You hand Marjorie the chart, smiling at her before returning to Christina. “I’m going to get through this. He’s going to find a nice girl and have the family he always wanted while I’ll still be here.”

“He’s going to go through girls like I go through tequila.”

“I know,” you grab your bag. “Which is why I know he’ll finally find his girl.”

She follows you until you reach the door. "What if it's you?"

A sad smile stretches across your lips. "He lost her."

”Forever?”

You shrug.

The resident stands there, unsure of what to do now.

-

You glance in his direction, wondering how many women he’s going to write down on the sheet. You hand yours back to Bailey, “I keep my life outside of work, unlike some people.”

Mark inwardly groans.

Bailey avoids making eye contact with him, she can’t continue to feel bad for him when he’s the one who messed things up (from what you told her).

You walk past the new residents, not in the mood to deal with them, especially with the girls fawning over Mark.

-

You sit down and watch his surgery, listening to the way he talks down to them.

You always told him he needs to slow down and be kind to them or else they won’t respect him but with everything that’s happened, you assume he’s a little bitter.

He always knows when you're watching and composes himself, but he can’t help and snap at the newbie (you don’t need to be talked about as if you’re a piece of meat). He glances up, catching your gaze.

You gulp, finding his soft expression he only used for you.

Everyone turns to you.

Two of the girls in orange start gossiping beside you.

“I have charts to look over. Come with me?” George asks.

You nod, finding it hard to keep your gaze off him but do so, only to inform the girls of some key information. “Keep talking like that and you two won’t find yourself off bedpan duty for a few months. Don’t talk about your superiors like that again."

The young faced one eyes widen and her face pales at your threat.

Mark can’t help but smirk behind his mask, always loving it when you straightened people out, if it was necessary.

-

"I see you two still aren’t talking.”

“Shut up, George.”

“Right, yeah. Got it.”

-

You try and ignore him again, which is when Derek steps in. “You should talk to him.”

“I know you two are all buddy buddy now, but I can’t do that. I can’t pretend like he didn’t break my heart in two. So, excuse me for ignoring your best friend."

He stops in front of you. “I need you to stop, think about this. What if you two don’t make amends and something happens? How would you feel? Think about how he would feel?”

“We’d be depressed, but eventually get over it, maybe be slutty for a few months and that’s the end of it.”

“That’s not a healthy way of dealing with your feelings and you know it.”

“I don’t care if it’s healthy or not. I have issues and I deal with them my way.”

“If you’d talk to him, maybe you’ll feel better.”

You roll your eyes and head into the prep station before you two head into surgery.

-

Bailey rolls her eyes, reaching for your phone. “Your phone keeps buzzing, doctor.”

You sigh, “does it look important?”

She leans closer, whispering, “it’s about your daughter.”

“Daycare or babysitter?”

“Babysitter. Fever, wants her mom.”

You take a deep breath and lean over to talk to your friend, “doctor Bailey’s going to take over. I need to go.”

“You’re leaving in the middle of a surgery?”

“I have to take care of something.”

“What?”

“My daughter.”

The staff in the OR got quiet, no one observing said anything.

You didn’t see the lights until it was too late.

-

“We got one adult in critical condition. One child with a minor bruising.”

Bailey and Owen are the first to arrive.

The woman’s eyes narrow to the familiar baby in Matt’s arms.

Owen steps forward. “What happened?”

“Car accident. Drunk ran a red light. Drivers side took more of the impact.”

“We need to get her checked out now.” The redhead pushes himself through, taking over one of the rooms. He tells the interns and fresh residents to prep a surgical room and put Christina on babysitting duty, leaving Jackson to follow him and Callie into the OR.

“I heard there was an accident,” Mark says, standing in the doorway. “I wanted to see if you needed any assistance?”

Callie glances at her ally in the room. “No, you should go check on Derek. I think I heard him calling for you.”

“When did he-"

“She’s coding,” Jackson interrupts.

“Crap! Avery, push one of epi.”

Everyone in the room prays for it to work and you to come back.

“Let me help,” he takes a step forward before being called away by one of the nurses.

-

He takes a sip of coffee, goes over the notes and overhears a few residents gossiping. His head whips in their direction. "Where'd you hear that?” He asks them, not accepting their answers.

They freeze. "Where did you hear that? Is she here?"

The group of residents’ glances at one another, unsure of what to say. "Who told you she's here?"

April had never worked with Mark before and seeing how freaked out he was over someone who wanted almost nothing to do with him, she felt bad; if someone she was in love with was hurt or worse, she'd want to know. "We- we saw her come in. They-"

He doesn't listen to anything else and takes off, running past Christina, who coddles the tear eyed, red faced toddler in her arms.

-

He runs straight towards Meredith, who's talking to Owen. "Where is she?"

The red head takes a step foward. "She's in surgery-"

"What room?"

"Sloan, you know I can't-"

He grabs Owen's scrubs by the collar and pulls him close. "I need to see her. I can't be here, waiting to see if she's dead or not. Tell me where she is."

The ex-vet slowly reaches for the man's hands. "Mark, I need you to calm down."

"How can I calm down when I just found out my fiancé is in surgery?"

-

Meredith takes a seat beside him, slumping against the wall, offering him a snack.

He shakes his head, closes his eyes and resting his head against the wall. "Have you heard anything?"

"No," she shakes her head. "I don't even know where she is."

"I just- what am I going to do if she's really-"

"Don't talk like that. She's not one to give up. She's-"

"A fighter?"

"Yeah."

Christina turns the corner, eyes wide. "Meredith?" She spots the two of them and runs towards them, inadvertently introducing your daughter to her father. "Mer. Mer. I need your help."

"Where did you get a baby?" She pushes herself off the floor. "Why do you have a baby?"

"Bailey put me on Kara duty and she won't stop crying."

"Whose baby, is it?"

That's when things got awkward.

Meredith's eyes widen, "no."

She nods.

Mark opens his eyes, glancing up. His eyes stop on the little girl, who glances his way.

She reaches for him. "Dada."

No one knew what to do.

"Oh my god," the two women muttered.

He pushes himself off the floor, staring at her. There's no mistaking it, she has your features, but she's got his eyes.

The little girl fusses in the woman's arms.

Mark easily slides her into his, his daughter settles into his arms, staring at him with those wide, curious eyes. "Mama?"

He gulps, "we have to wait a little bit before we see mama, okay?"

She nods and lays her head down on his chest.

He closes his eyes to keep his tears at bay, kissing the top of her head.

-

"She still loves you," Christina tells him.

He keeps his gaze on his girls and hums. "When you showed her the ring, she didn't say it was officially over for you two but she's still heartbroken over you and Addison getting together."

"I was getting ready to leave."

"What?"

"I grabbed my jacket and made sure I had the ring. I was- I wanted that night to go perfectly but then I opened the door, and she was there." He sighs.

"She let herself in and I tried to get her to leave but she wouldn't and then she kissed me. I told her I couldn't because I was about to become a proud married man," he bitterly chuckles.

"I told her no and she got upset because she knew she could always run to me but when she knew she couldn't anymore, she decided she wanted to love me. The way I wanted her to when we were younger. I accepted it, you know."

The woman nods.

"I accepted the fact that she chose Derek. He was a good choice."

"He was a safe choice, and she knew that."

Mark nods, "yeah and that's why I... tried to warn him before he proposed."

"You tried to warn him?"

"He's my best friend, I couldn't let him go into a marriage that was going to hurt him."

She chuckles, "that's ironic."

"Shut up, Yang."

"Go on."

"I gave into her because a part of me was scared- scared I was going to hear the rejection. No, I can't marry you because..."

"You're a manwhore?"

"Baby present and, yes. I didn't want my past to define my future but then, it did, and she left with Derek."

"Do you think Derek knew about," Christina gestures to the baby in his arms.

"Probably. I'm not happy I missed it but at least I know she had someone who could take care of her."

"Are you ever going to tell her?"

"If she'll listen."

Her pager beeps.

"Go, Yang. I'm not leaving."

Derek nods and steps into the room.

"You hear all that?"

His friend shrugs, "only the good parts."

"Funny."

"She was going to tell you before... everything happened but then she needed to get away and I did too-"

"So, she left without saying anything."

"If it means anything, she wrote a journal throughout the entire pregnancy, in case she passed, and Kara wanted to know about her mom."

He can tell by Mark's expression; he needs to explain.

"She was stressed throughout the entire pregnancy, and it was cause for concern. She had a few fainting spells and needed to stay home for a while. The doctor was making it seem like if she even went to the bathroom, she was going to lose Kara which scared her more than leaving you."

"Why?"

"If she lost Kara, it meant losing a piece of you which would have made her feel like it was officially over for the two of you."

Your heart monitor beeps. "Derek?"

His friend calms you down, checking you over before whispering that Mark and Kara are in the room.

You slowly turn your head, spotting them.

The father of your child smiles, relieved to see you awake. "Hey."

You spot your little girl tucked into his neck and tear up. You bring your hand up to your mouth to hide the sobs that want to escape.

Mark gestures for your guys' friend to exit so he can talk to you. He slowly pushes himself out of the chair, adjusting to the little girl. "Hey, hey," he brushes the few strands of hair out of your face, his thumb rubbing agaist your hairline. "What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

"I'm sorry."

He shakes his head. "Don't be. I'm just- I'm happy you're okay."

"I wanted to call you so many times."

"I know."

"I wanted you to be there."

"Where?"

"In the room," you whisper, staring into his eyes. "I didn't want her to be away from you but-"

He nods. "I know, I messed up. If I didn't- if it didn't happen, we could have been a family, and I will forever be sorry because you went through it alone."

Hearing your voice alerts the little girls’ ears and she squirms in his grasp.

He sets her feet on the open area near your arm, letting her turn around and launch herself into your arms. "Mama!"

"Oh, my sweet baby." You kiss the side of her head. "Mama missed you."

His heart swells at the sight of you two.

-

A few days later and you feel okay enough to be sent home.

You bid your goodbyes to everyone, even the newbies because they were nice enough to check in on you and make sure everything was okay. You step outside and take a deep breath.

"What do you think you're doing?"

A quiet moment ruined by your ex.

"I'm breathing, Mark. Can I do that, or do you need to make sure the weather's just right?"

He chuckles before getting out of the car. "You know your doctor gave you strict orders, I think you should be following them but that's just me."

You stare at him with a deadpan expression. "I got it, Mark. I know what I need to do, don't try and patronize me."

"I would never."

-

The residents huddle together, watching the two of you.

"How much do you want to bet that they're going to get back together?" Christina asks.

Jackson nods, "I'll take that bet."

Meredith stares at the two of them.

"You two are awful," April adds.

"Yes, but we'll be bad people with money," the future cardiologist tells her with a sarcastic smile.

Derek stops at the desk, taking a sip of his coffee before making his way to the group. "Okay, if we're all done gawking at two grown adults trying to move past their differences, can we get back to work?"

"You're no fun. I remember when you were having fun."

"You want to scrub in on my surgery, Dr. Yang?"

"Let's go have fun. See yah, Mer."

-

You make it through the door of your place and wait for it. "Say it."

"What?" He closes the door, setting the stroller by the door as he unbuckles Kara.

"I know you're judging, so, out with it. I'm not going to pretend as if you don't want to say something because you do."

"I don't," he notices the look you're giving him. "I... like it."

"You hesitated even finishing that sentence."

"I did not."

"Did too."

"Mama!"

You two glance down at the little girl, wanting attention and out of her father's grasp. You gently take her from him and wander into the kitchen, scouring through the cabinets to figure out what kind of things you could have as a snack.

This is what he wants, he wants this life: the one where you're not mad at him, and he can watch his daughter grow while you look amazing at being a mom.

He gulps down what little saliva he has in his mouth and takes a hesitant step closer to you. "What are we feeling?"

You hum, "I don't know, little miss here can't decide on what she wants."

"I can make something," he meekly offers, unsure if this is too much or not.

"What can you make? Last time I checked all you knew was protein smoothies and even then, that wasn't the best."

He scoffs, "I know how to cook, and you know it. You forget who made you dinner for our second date."

You open your mouth to respond but don't have it in you when you think about the good times you two had. Your gaze drops.

He feels bad but he can't pretend as if your romantic past doesn't exist. "I was so worried I messed up with that dinner."

"Really?"

"Of course, I was cooking for the most beautiful girl within a five-mile radius of my house. I was more than nervous."

"Good."

-

You step out of the room and start cleaning up, only for Mark to stop you and grab everything you pick up.

"I told you not to do anything. I got this."

You lean over the couch and watch him wander around your place. "Do you..."

"What?" He glances up, staring at you with kind eyes, wanting to hear what you have to say.

"Do you ever wonder what it would have been like if it didn't happen?"

"I know we'd be married with at least one other kid now."

"I'm serious."

"I don't want to focus on the past."

You scoff, rolling your eyes.  "Says the man who always wanted to ask about my exes."

-

You don't even know how it happened but here you are. You pull away, needing to breathe before continuing.

"Are you sure about this?"

You stare into his eyes, for what feels like an eternity. "I'm sure. I want this. Please," you beg.

His lips curve upwards, "who am I to deny you a fun time?"

You keep him at arm’s length, "that comment makes me want to rethink this whole thing."

"No, it doesn't."

You grumble and pull him back in for a kiss.

Meredith immediately closes the door, regretting not checking before opening. "Seriously you guys?"

You reach for your shirt and cover your mouth to hide your giggles, Mark turns to you with a smirk. "How do you know we weren't trying to invite you?"

"Because you know better."

Your eyes widen.

"Hey, Bailey," he says with a cool tone.

"You two better be out of there in the next five minutes or-"

You open the door and run past the two. "See yah, Bails. See yah, Mer."

Mark stays there flabbergasted at how quickly you ran out the door, leaving him to deal with her.

-

He closes the door just as you finish making dinner. "You are evil."

You stick your bottom lip out, "I don't think so, I made dinner. I'm going to be feeding you, I'd consider that to be something nice."

"You left me to deal with that- that woman alone."

"I left you with Bails, you were fine."

"I was not fine. I was far from fine."

You click your tongue, "stop exaggerating."

"I'm not and you know it."

"Okay," you groan. "I'm sorry. I left you with Bailey and that wasn't nice."

"It wasn't." He wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your chest.

"I said sorry, don't be like this."

"I think I'm going to need a little more in order to forgive you."

You lean into him as you settle into his arms.

The monitor goes off and you're brought back to the reality of you being in the arms of your ex.

You push yourself out of his grasp and walk towards her room. "Hey, pumpkin."

She holds her arms out for you.

You pick her up, "how's my little baby?"

She babbles a response. "Dada?"

"He's still here, checking on dinner. Your favorite."

"Maccheese!"

You chuckle, "yeah."

"There's my favorite girl," he smiles at the happy little girl.

You observe the way they interact with a heavy heart, knowing you can't continue doing this with him.

-

"What happened?" Christina asks, practicing new sutures on a banana.

"Nothing happened-"

"You're not sleeping with McSteamy, something happened."

"I just- I realized we need to not fall back into old habits."

"Do you still love him?"

You hesitate to answer.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Of course, of course I still love him, but I can't be in love with him-"

"Because he was an adulterous whore?"

"Yeah."

"Have you seen him with anyone else?"

"I didn't need to see anything if all the girls talked about him?"

"Did you ever think maybe they lied? Maybe they're jealous of the fact that you have a hot guy fawning over you and only you. What else would they do other than gossip?"

"How am I supposed to believe that?"

"Have you ever talked to him?"

"I'm scared."

"So is he."

"I don't want to get hurt again."

"He wouldn’t want to lose you again."

"Christina?"

"Yeah?"

"You're wise beyond your years."

-

You run to him, pulling him into the break room.

He attempts to get up. "Shut up and let me talk."

You take a deep breath, "I want to be with you, like we were before but we're not those people anymore. And- and I want you to be in Kara's life so you can watch her grow up but this," you gesture between the two of you.

"This can only work if we're honest and you don't leave me for a quick lay or else, I will put you in an OR and change things about you. I will not put myself or Kara on the line if you're not going to give us your all."

He nods, taking in everything you've said. He pushes himself off the couch and walks towards you and pulls you in for a hug. "I'm never letting you go," he mumbles into your hair. "Living without you was the worst time of my life."

Mark pulls away, cupping your cheek, staring into your eyes. "If you let me into your lives, I promise not to mess it up because you two are too important to me and I don't know if I'd be able to live without you."

You sniffle, chuckling at his dorky smile. "Then don't be an idiot and kiss me."

-

"Finally," Christina turns around, pointing to everyone. "You all owe me money."

"Us."

"You owe Mer and I money."

Derek makes his way towards them. "What are we looking at?" He smiles, "good, it's about time he got his act together."

[leclerc-s]

track 003. te marque

─── ❝ me merezco alguien más que no me, trate tal como una basura que me ame de verdad ❞ ───

masterlist // previous // next

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isabellaperez no race this week enjoy this eras tour dump. it was a life changing experience. 10/10 would recommend. (we all cried during marjorie. daniel sobbed the entire time. we had to go back for night 2) the urge to quit my job and become daphne's personal photographer is strong.

tagged: daphnejricciardo

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daphnejricciardo you're welcome to join anytime isa!

user17 isabella jpg account when?

↳ isabellaperez don't tempt me

landonorris how come you never take pictures of me this good?

↳ isabellaperez because you aren't photogenic like daphne?

↳ landonorris are you calling me ugly?

↳ isabellaperez well i'm not calling you pretty.

user89 oh my god, she looks so pretty?

user32 how the hell did daniel ricciardo manage to marry daphne fucking jones?

↳ maxverstappen1 we've been asking ourselves that same question for years

↳ user32 oh my god. excuse me while i go scream in a pillow.

danieljricciardo hey, my wife looks great

↳ isabellaperez doesn't she always?

↳ danieljricciardo yes, she does. i love her

↳ user02 daniel will take any and all opportunity to remind people that he loves his wife.

lando norris i've come up with a name for nando and seb

isabella perez and that is?

lando norris papa nando and papa seb

isabella perez OH MY GOD WHY DIDN'T I THINK ABOUT THAT?

daniel ricciardo fucking muppet

bailey winters you gotta give it to him he finally didn't fuck something up

lando norris HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY SORRY FOR LEAKING DAPHNE AND DANIEL'S RELATIONSHIP? bailey winters so many times you muppet

isabella perez what am i missing here?

george russell LANDO ACCIDENTALLY CALLED NANDO DAD YESTERDAY!

isabella perez AND I FUCKING MISSED IT?

fernando alonso yes, it was hilarious.

daniel ricciardo anyone, from the original group chat, remember that time seb and nando got pissed at each other and the group chat was named multi-21 for like a year?

charles leclerc it was still named that when i was added, like 5 years ago mae jones and it was a picture of mark, because yes, i remember lewis hamilton dear god, has it seriously been that long? oscar piastri justice for mark isabella perez amen to that pastry boy!

arthur leclerc added one person

dulce perez ARTURO QUE HICISTE?

logan sargeant yo, who added ollie here?

arthur leclerc i like drama. pierre is rubbing off on me.

isabella perez DANIEL JOSEPH RICCIARDO HAVE YOU BEEN GOSSIPING ABOUT ME AGAIN?

daniel ricciardo no. maybe. yes. but only to arthur and pierre, i swear.

+44 1632 960767 arthur, i like you, i truly do, but what the hell is this? and why is the picture fernando alonso in a pool?

arthur leclerc you're one of us because i said so.

penelope trevino 10 cookies says daphne and daniel adopt him as one of their kids.

carlos sainz 11 cookies says natalia and charles beat them to it. ollie bearman why are you betting cookies? sebastian vettel they're forbidden from betting money ever again. fernando alonso they bet $50,000 on what gender baby leclerc was going to be and no, i didn't confuse the dollar sign with the euros sign lando norris listen, i was drunk. ollie bearman and that's a good excuse because? fernando alonso i like this kid, we're keeping him

lewis hamilton further proving the point that this group chat is full of idiots with the survival instincts of a hamster

max verstappen NAME ONE TIME! sebastian vettel you drank only red bull for 80 hours straight. twice. lewis hamilton isabella drank an unknown liquid for "fun" that liquid turned out to be laundry detergent. she was in the hospital for three days. fernando alonso lando swallowed a lego piece, we had to rush him to emergency services. sebastian vettel charles nearly jumped off a balcony on a dare. he was 15+ stories up. lewis hamilton daniel wanted to adopt a venomous snake fernando alonso pierre, yuki, freya, george, and dulce have all fallen down several flights of stairs and said it was a 'fun slide with bumps'. every single fucking time. isabella perez we're just built different fernando alonso built like a bunch of idiots

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redbullracing mood because they're telling me i have to "go back to work" after the religious experience that was a daphne jones concert. jeddah gp here we come or whatever. message not approved by our team

tagged: schecoperez, maxverstappen1, danieljricciardo

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📍 redbullracing PIERRE GASLY GO BACK TO ALPINE! STOP LIKING MY POSTS!! CHRISTIAN LEAVE ME ALONE! I'M DOING MY JOB SALTY SPICE!

user64 isabella is so real for that caption. i went to a daphne jones concert and it was the best day of my life.

maxverstappen1 do you live to embarrass us?

↳ redbullracing yes. i played nonsense to christian for a reason

↳ daphnejricciardo what does that mean?

↳ redbullracing nothing!

user92 admin who's your favorite driver on the grid?

↳ redbullracing for legal reasons my uncle, checo (charles)

↳ user92 you're so real for that

↳ redbullracing this comment was not approved by our team

↳ redbullracing CHRISTIAN I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL LEAVE FOR MERCEDES IF YOU DON'T KNOCK IT OFF!

user21 christian seems like a tired dad trying to rein in isabella and her love for ferrari

maxverstappen1 you're not allowed to leave unless i retire, that was our deal

↳ redbullracing THEN TELL CHRISTIAN TO KNOCK IT OFF!!

georgerussell63 we don't want you here

↳ redbullracing well toger gave me a job offer and i declined. so suck on that russell george

user06 TOGER WOLFF YOU LEAVE OUR PRECIOUS RED BULL ADMIN ALONE!

↳ landonorris she's not precious trust me.

↳ redbullracing wow. that block button looks real good lando norizz.

liked by danieljricciardo, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and others

redbullracing anyways here's the superior red bull duo because our current drivers are pissing me off. (multi-21 vibes)

tagged: sebastianvettel, aussiegrit

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📍 redbullracing damn guess we know who the favorites are because i’m hearing no salty spice complaints

user81 oscar liking posts because mark is in them will never fail to make me soft

danieljricciardo i thought seb and i were your favorites?

↳ redbullracing top 3 drivers for sure. seb, mark, then you, charles then max. i can't say my uncle because that would be biased.

↳ danieljricciardo so you like australians?

↳ redbullracing DANIEL JOSEPH RICCIARDO!

↳ user10 why do i get the feeling this is one of their inside jokes?

↳ user61 because it probably is

isabella sat on a table near red bull hospitality with her buzzing phone near her. it was taking everything in her not to pick and listen to the other voice. oscar, who happened to be walking by saw the girl sitting with a faraway look in her eyes. he looked around, hoping one of her friends was near, with no such luck he approached her and sat with her. she didn’t even look up to greet him, which seemed strange from the girl who greeted everyone.

“bella?” oscar questioned, “are you going to answer that?”

“no,” she whispered, “i’m not supposed to.”

“why not?”

“ex.”

“ah,” oscar replied. he looked at her teary eyes before reaching for her phone and answering, “hello? may i ask why i’ve been getting so many calls from this number? isabella? no, i don’t know who that is. you have the wrong number."

oscar looked at isabella, “problem solved? i hope. if he calls again let me know.”

isabella looked up at him, for the first time since he’d sat down, she reached across the table and hugged him, “thank you but you lied to him.” somewhere in her mind it was still engraved to never lie to austin. he never hit her, but the verbal assaults were still bad, sometimes she prefered he would've hit her. but she knew that if it would've gotten to that point, he would've had several f1 drivers and one team principal on his ass. as much as she disliked austin, she didn't want her friends or uncle in prison for killing someone who wasn't worth it.

“about?” oscar questioned, breaking isabella out of her trance.

“not knowing isabella.”

“oh, i didn’t lie, i only know bella.”

isabella huffed, “stop calling me that.”

“no,” oscar smiled before getting up and begin walking away, “i like calling you bella because it annoys you.”

isabella found herself smiling at the boy walking away before shaking her head and standing up herself to walk back into red bull hospitality. she walked in with a smile still gracing her face, something the red bull drivers and reserve driver were quick to notice. checo couldn’t remember the last time he had seen his niece smile that genuinely.

“todo bien?” he asked her. isabella nodded, “everything’s okay tio. lo prometo.”

duckling puta madre

super max oh no, what happened?

honey badger SEBASTIAN! WE NEED YOUR WORDS OF WISDOM!

duckling how does one get rid of feelings? i'm feeling things.

paddock dad i think you're being a tad bit dramatic duckling CONSIDERING HOW MY LAST RELATIONSHIP WENT I'M ALLOWED TO BE DRAMATIC SEBASTIAN

super max we should ask mark for advice on this.

paddock dad why would we ask mark for advice on this? what does mark have to do with this?

honey badger she's in love with oscar? the mclaren rookie?

paddock dad is this what the operation is about?

duckling what operation?

super max so you do have feelings for oscar?

duckling no. why would i? i'm asking about ollie.

honey badger no one actually believes you have feelings for oliver. not even you believe it. besides, you're the one who said you would never date someone younger than you.

duckling oh i know, but it riles arthur up so much i just have to make the joke everyday.

paddock dad so do you like oscar?

duckling it's just a crush. it'll go away by next week.

paddock dad and if it doesn't? duckling i'll ignore it until it goes away. paddock dad that's not healthy duckling my last relationship wasn't either, that's why we are where we are today.

lance stroll if i commit murder in miami, someone better help me hide the body no questions asked.

logan sargeant i have so many questions?? lance stroll I SAID NO QUESTIONS GEORGE WASHINGTON!!

fernando alonso i think you're father's an idiot.

max verstappen who are we murdering?

esteban ocon and why are we murdering them?

fernando alonso lawrence stroll and austin riley

isabella perez why would we be murdering austin in miami?

daniel jones-ricciardo DO NOT FUCKING TELL ME LAWRENCE STROLL DID WHAT I THINK HE DID??

lance stroll if you're thinking what i think you are, the answer is yes.

mae jones oh you have got to be kidding me.

isabella perez i don't get it.

daphne jones-ricciardo isa, sweetie, aston martin invited austin to the miami grand prix.

isabella perez oh. excuse me while i go jump off a fucking bridge.

isabella perez logan, what’s the best bridge in florida to jump off of?

freya vettel lawrence stroll is on my hitlist

oscar piastri i'm so confused, who the hell is austin riley?

dulce perez he's isa's ex, who we don't like because he's a dick. lando norris just, listen to logical and that should tell you everything you need to know about that dickhead.

oscar piastri is that the guy who was calling you today? the one i answered?

isabella perez that would be him.

oscar piastri he sounded like dick.

daniel jones-ricciardo added one person

daniel jones-ricciardo checo, before you leave, again, know that the mission has changed.

checo perez to what?

dulce perez to keep isabella away from austin at the miami grand prix

checo perez puta madre

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @applopie @lorarri @mypage-myfandoms @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @cowboylikemets1989 @justtprachisblog @rmeddar123 @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @1nt3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @arieltwvdtohamflash

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! heyyyyy, i say as if i haven't updated this series in like two weeks. i'm not going to lie, i got too busy with the other ones and then i took like a week off but i'm back! hopefully i can get updates for this entire series out sooner. but hope you liked this one.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[georgiapeach30513]

I'll be honest, while Deuxmoi always and still does post a ton of BS, thanks to the development of this never-ending saga...I'm starting to really feel like she's been used intentionally to push this narrative along all the way from the very beginning. Aka 2021.

A very out there theory but hear me out: Early on, the fandom had the general consensus DM was BS. Especially in regards to CE. Because DM was the one that first started spreading his super secret GF nonsense back in 2021, right before the introduction of Soba Saga. Her almost nonsensical rants about her having legit sources on this secret GF - while doing weekly podcasts where she insisted she never got any intel on him because his circle was so tight knit (interesting how that suddenly changed out of nowhere when someone showed up) - just made her seem like crazy cat lady gossip conspiracy Marjorie Taylor Greene on steroids.

She was the first to post that "dating Soba for over a year and everyone in PT/her circle knows about it" in early 2022.

They go public in late 2022. 2023 There's some Sunday Spotted (I could be wrong) vDAY post about CE and "fiancé" being seen in town at dinner (sounds very similar to the most recent vDay sighting). That was about 10 months before the super secret wedding and there had been no announcement of being engaged, minus the Tumblr blogs and random third rate tabloids and troll twitter accounts passing on the rumors. DM starts spreading around the same time some Tumblr blogs get the intel about secret engagement, wedding, rift in the family, people on his side not liking Soba, etc. Eventually it is revealed DM was right all along???? In a complete turn of events her credibility goes from zero to 1 (grudgingly of course, while she continues to spill BS daily)

Meanwhile, DM gets the first RPatz sighting with Scarlett and crew at dinner. Nobody believed it - as Nancy mentioned, it just seemed too farfetched with the way that restaurant was set up.

Then in early 2024 we get an actual RPatz sighting with with Soba/CE, and separately, sightings with Scarlett and Colin. Now there's more "credibility" to that random other sighting even if it still can't be proven.

Now...possible project with RPatz and CE's name circulating. Maybe just gossip fodder, maybe some truth to it. Time will tell. Coincidences once again.

DM gets the sighting of CE in LA with Russos. He actually confirms that one himself a month later.

Simultaneously, DM gets random sightings of CE doing other stuff where soba is not mentioned. Nobody knows really what to believe anymore.

But for every 15 BS things she posts, she actually gets 1-2 right. It starts to completely make her a hit or miss source but enough to get people riled up and worried if/when she gets something related to CE/Soba.

In a way, this strategy, if it were to have any salt to it, is kinda interesting. It also sort of enforces the idea of possible foul play. Because if CE is truly in such a happy, private, loveful relationship, why use somebody as uncouth as DM to throw out breadcrumbs? Especially since, in the past, his fanbase and most Tumblr blogs believed it was only legit if it came from someone like People Mag (his team's go-to). Ironically, Page 6 has been getting most of the exclusive scoops this time around, in addition to weird low rate tabloids that eventually make its way to the top.

I know I sound like crazy qanon conspiracy theorist, but I guess people see what they wanna see. But for the people who believe this relationship isn't as genuine as some want to believe, it kind of tracks that somebody's PR team pushing this out in ways to sort of make you wonder, question, and push back on the validity. Just enough to make you think, maybe, maybe there's something going on BTS that they're not saying but they're kinda telling. But you'll never know what the truth is. At least not for now.

I do find DM’s role since 2023 to be very interesting indeed. You missed nothing. Not one thing. She’s made herself be credible enough during this, but also, she’s questionable. So of course, take everything she says with a grain of salt.

I made this comment a bit ago to someone else, he still uses People. Who got the Jinx articles first. Think about that for a moment. He. Just him.

As far as the last paragraph, what I will say is celebrities need to be talked about. Good or bad, they need the press. They need to be in the front of people’s minds. What better way to have them in people’s minds, and to have fans talk about something long past their expiration date than by playing a game. PR has become such a hot topic word, and I think very few people even understand it. But to me, if you’re having to play so many games, what really is real? Live your life. Isn’t that what we continue to be told they’re doing?

[ivystoryweaver]

Spectre

A Moon Knight Halloween Love Story

Event #10: A Quiet Place

prev | Fic Masterlist | My Masterlist

Summary: You and Steven get a few more answers before he takes you home and shows you how much he's missed you.

Pairing this chapter: Steven Grant x f!reader

A/n: I know I promised Jake, but I switched the order of 2 chapters, and I promise you'll like this one!

Word count: 2.1k

Content: exposition again, domestic fluff, steven gets to shine, fingering, p in v, bit of language, not beta'd

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

PREVIOUSLY on Spectre…

"Ms. Marjorie, why does she look the same? What happened to her body?”

"When I cast the spell on her," Ms. Marjorie explained, leaning forward on her elbows, "It's like I froze time for her. She is exactly the same as the night she died, except no longer in her old body."

She turned to you, smiling softly. “Their love essentially made you…materialize, just as they perceived you to be. I really don't know a better way to explain it."

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“Let me get this straight,” Steven said. “This shop completely vanished, o-or I was hallucinating. What is actually going on here?”

"As I said, it’s Halloween," Ms. Marjorie explained. "Not a holiday you’d associate very closely with love, I suppose, but - you see - love is the most powerful magic in the world.

“Your lovely partner here wasn’t haunting you, as you’ve told me Mr. Spector feared,” she went on. “She was simply suspended between the world of the living and the dead."

“Then, why were you pretending to work here?” Steven inquired, gesturing around him animatedly. “What even is this place?”

“My shop," she simply replied.

"But...it disappeared," Steven argued. "When I needed answers most, it wasn't here."

"Ah yes," Ms. Marjorie smiled warmly. "When you needed answers most," she nodded your way, "you found her. When you were ready." She shrugged, beginning to tidy up the tea cups and saucers. "The rest was all a bit of witchcraft, nothing more."

You pondered your words for a moment before smiling fondly. "Thank you, Ms. Marjorie, for everything. You and Steven - both of you saved my life.”

"I fudged a spell that was meant to save your life, but if it turned out well in the end, then I suppose I did some good and for that, I am grateful," she chuckled.

"And we are grateful as well," Steven chimed. "Thank you for helping me, and for your kindness, but I do believe I may need to ask you one more favor."

"What is that, Steven?"

Steven took a deep breath. “The man who killed my partner. Do you know anything about him? Did you see anything else?”

“Nothing that will be of much help, I’m afraid. not that night anyway. But something mystical is at work here. Your grandmother called out to me because she sensed your danger from beyond. She’s connected to all this somehow.

"But enough time spent with an old lady. Go on and enjoy yourselves," Ms. Marjorie instructed, gazing at you pointedly. "Enjoy life."

"Thank you again." You stood, giving the older woman a warm embrace. "You’re an angel to me."

"Oh I doubt that," Ms. Marjorie chuckled. "But happy to help."

Golden-hued trees, late autumn sunshine and the changes that had infiltrated in your hometown over the last few months took your breath away as you passed them by.

Steven glanced over at you worriedly, reaching for your hand.

"This is all so unbelievable," you uttered, awestruck. "It's like I'm in some other universe. It's magical. But it's a lot."

“I can’t believe it either. We should get you some things from the drug store, but someone might see you. Maybe I should take you home first, and come back,” Steven suggested.

“No. No, I don’t want to be alone. I’ll just come with you,” you quickly protested, your racing heart reminding you just how alive you really were.

By the time you gathered some necessities and checked out at the drug store, Steven noticed you seemed a bit glassy eyed and short of breath.

"Let's go home, love," he said softly. "I've got you."

Back in your kitchen, you eased down on a chair, watching Steven carefully as he unloaded the bags from the store and put on the kettle.

"We'll order you some things online. Some clothes - whatever you want."

He watched you for a response, but you hadn't said much since you walked into the drugstore earlier.

Kneeling down in front of you, he reached for your hand. "Darling, I know this is all...impossible. But I'm here."

You nodded, mutely.

A line of concern creased his forehead as he chewed on the corner of his lip. But he was determined to take care of you. A few moments later, he set your favorite tea in front of you, despite the fact that you drank some with Ms. Marjorie.

The tea comforted you almost as much as when Steven brought Jeremiah to sit on the table beside you.

"I'm sorry," you finally uttered, tracing your finger over the cool glass of the fish bowl. "It...I think it feels too good to be true, it can't be true. It can't be."

"That's the way I've always felt about you, love," he sweetly returned, warm, earthy eyes locking with yours. "An absolute wonder, you are."

"Steven..." you whispered, your heart - your entire body so full of love an awe. "I think my head might explode if I think about this any harder," you confessed.

Steven brilliantly distracted you for the remainder of the afternoon and evening. He put on the most mundane documentary - just enough to hold your slight interest but keep everything calm.

Then he got the laptop and helped you pick out some basic clothes from your favorite store. They would arrive tomorrow because he paid for expedited shipping.

When your mind would start to wander, he would take the laptop and pull you close, even kiss you deeply. Once the documentary ended, he read to you for a little while.

The people on your street and the surrounding ones knew you had passed away, so not too many trick-or-treaters rang the doorbell, hoping not to disturb Mr. Spector, but Steven was prepared with a couple of bags of candy from the drugstore. You stayed out of sight as to not give the young ones a real fright.

The next time the doorball rang, it was for a dinner delivery, which somehow seemed like the most delicious thing you'd ever eaten. Before long, you grew sleepy, simply because existing was so damn draining. At least today.

You felt a little distant from Steven, not because there was anything wrong between the two of you, but because you hadn't spoken to him much all afternoon.

Still, he'd given you exactly what you'd needed. Just enough mental stimulation to keep your mind from wandering and getting overwhelmed. Just enough tenderness to make you feel special.

You ended the day feeling cherished, with a full belly. And you had clothes, shoes and other necessities on the way.

"I feel like I bored you to death on my first day alive," you finally joked after brushing your teeth.

"You know that could never be true," Steven refuted, wiping his mouth with a towel before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Thank you for today," you said seriously, wrapping your arms around his neck as you stared deeply into his eyes. "You're like a touchstone. I feel so safe with you."

"I would do anything to keep you safe," he whispered against your lips, taking them captive for a tender but sensual kiss, squeezing your hips possessively. "Come on, love, let's get you to bed."

"I slept a lot today. I really am boring," you joked.

"Oh we won't be sleeping," he cheekily returned, goosing your ribs which made you squeal.

Whatever slight distance you had felt with Steven evaporated once you were in bed, as he gathered you to the warmth of his chest and slotted his mouth against yours. Hungry hands gripped the t-shirt he'd slid over your head not ten minutes ago as he kissed you until you both needed air.

"Can't even say how much I've missed you," he murmured, pushing his fingertips over the curve of your back, easing your shirt upward. His thumbs grazed the sides of your breasts, underneath your arms, causing your breath to stutter.

"Tell me to stop and I will," he went on, sampling your lips one at a time, only pausing when pulling the shirt over your head interrupted you.

His eyes flickered down to your mouth, then your chest as he licked his lips. "Never thought I'd see you this way again."

You swallowed hard, your breath quickening under his hungry gaze.

"You alright, darling?" He smiled gently, brushing his hand across your collarbone. "Too much?"

"No," you breathed out - your fingers twisting through his curls as you pulled your bare chest flush against his cotton-covered one, sharing his breath as your body bloomed with desire. You tugged his hair a little too hard, desperate to somehow drag yourself closer still.

"Missed that," he moaned out, smiling against your cheek even as he rushed to get his own t-shirt off.

Your lips fused together again as the heat of his bare chest, the sweet warmth of his breath in your mouth - the soft seduction of his tongue tasting yours - and the possessive grip as he slid his hands once more up the curve of your back - set your body aflame with need.

Steven was clear that he wanted you, but still, he took his time - every nip of his teeth, soothed with the heat of his tongue. Every desperate grip eased into a seductive caress, and when his fingers finally slid between your legs - when he found the core of you hot and wet for him - he caressed you only once before pressing his forehead to yours.

"Let me make you mine again," he begged, fingertips twitching with the need to touch you - the thick outline of his bulge pressed hungrily against your bare thigh.

"Steven," you gasped, his possessive claim making you wild with desire. Your legs fell open as he coaxed you open, plunging his tongue in your mouth and two fingers deep inside you.

Your hungry moan spurred him on as he fingered you just the way you liked. Steven was all sweet seduction. It was fun to make him whimper, but he could really pull you apart when he wanted to.

But tonight wasn't about anything but cherishing you, here, alive.

So, as you worked him free of his pajama pants and stroked the velvet length of him, you found that you didn't want him to take his time. Not tonight. Just in case.

"Please, Steven," you sweetly begged him, tugging him seductively while grinding against his hand. "Need you inside."

He groaned at your touch, and your hunger to feel him, relieved that it wasn't too much for you. Soon enough, your remaining clothes were discarded and Steven climbed on top of you, caging you in with his surprisingly strong forearms. His biceps flexed deliciously as he held up his weight, positioning himself perfectly.

He knew your body as well as his own - better, maybe, since he shared his body. Without another thought, or a hand to guide him, he pushed inside you, tilting his hips exactly how he knew -

"Oh fuck Steven..." you gasped, your back arching off the bed.

Your partner knew how to please you, hitting that spot that only familiar lovers could find so easily - like the steps of a well-rehearsed dance.

"My beautiful girl," Steven breathed against your neck, between spine-tingling open-mouthed kisses laid seductively on your throat.

Slow, devastatingly deep thrusts made you whimper with both satisfaction and yearning.

"Stay here with me," he begged, hands touching you all over, finding a home on the curve of your hips as he worked himself in and out of you with fierce possessiveness. "Stay with me. Please stay..."

You whimpered his name, gripping the breadth of his shoulders as your bodies twisted, hot and wet and alive, faster and deeper until he spilled inside you only seconds after your body seized in absolute rapture, clenching him with your velvet warmth.

Steven kissed you messily, hungry and sated at the same time, hips slowing and finally stopping as his weight dropped down, caging you in. He quickly attempted to pull away, as to not crush you, but you slung your leg around his thighs and held him there.

"Stay," you echoed his plea from earlier. "Stay right here. Stay inside. I need you." You murmured plea tickled his ear, making him shiver with desire, even though he felt sated.

"Likely to crush you love." You felt him smile against your neck, his damp curls tickling your cheek. "But I'll stay right here as long as you want."

"Forever, Steven."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

You jolted awake - your dreams vivid and intense once again. Cool air kissed your skin where you kicked off your comforter, finding yourself alone in bed, still naked after making love with Steven, but clean. He must have woken up and taken care of a few things.

"Steven?" You called out, sitting up, attempting to push down the anxiety stirring in the center of you. Maybe he was in the bathroom.

Drawing a cleansing breath, you tried to steady your breathing. Damn dreams.

"Steven?" You tried again, but before you could push yourself off the bed, you heard someone else.

"Cálmate, mi amor."

The smooth voice of your partner washed over you as you blinked, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

"J-Jake?"

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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[iwanthermidnightz]

The Eras Tour on the big screen — it’s giving movie, cinematography, magical, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show-stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before.

From start to finish Taylor does what she does best: captivate the entire room with her never ending star quality. Seeing the entire show from all the angles in HD gives me a new appreciation for the cultural phenomenon that is the Eras Tour. The scale and promotion of this film starts to really click when you’re finally watching it. The turnout will be massive and the records will be broken and the movie theaters have gone all out for Taylor because she’s singlehandedly bringing in so much revenue for them, but also solidifying herself once again as a true businesswoman.

When I said I hoped no one got up to dance and sing around me I was wrong. Everyone remained in their seats until you belong with me and love story came on… believe or not that’s what did it for them. Girls from 5 to 15 hurried down to the front of the theater in excitement where they would remain and be joined by others throughout the show until the end.

Most of the crowd screamed every word (especially the lyrics you’re supposed to scream) from our seats and that really did make it so fun. The phone lights came out for Marjorie, and when reputation (and 1989) came on everyone went feral. It made me giggle to see kids yelling “oh lord save me my drug is my baby” with their whole chest. Vigilante Shit close up was an experience and was rightly appreciated with very descriptive expletives by the crowd.

The vibes really were amazing. It was so cute to see and feel how excited everyone was! So if you’re thinking about going or hesitant because you “want to watch in peace” (shading myself) do yourself a favor and go. You deserve a night of pure joy! And thank you Taylor for giving that to us every night on tour. You’re a once in a lifetime artist and woman 🤍

[lyralit]

heartbreak prompts off taylor swift lyrics

"they tell you that you're lucky but you're so confused, cause you don't feel pretty, you just feel used" the lucky one

"you've got your demons and darling, they all look like me" sad beautiful tragic

"how long will it be cute? all this crying in my room?" nothing new

"I made you my temple, my mural, my sky...now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life." tolerate it

"no one knows how much I miss her" the very first night

"that's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend" Cornelia street

"how's your heart after breaking mine?" mr perfectly fine

"desperate people find faith" soon you'll get better

"if the story's over, why am I still writing pages?" death by a thousand cuts

"god rest my soul, I miss who I used to be" would've could've should've

"trying to find a part of me that you didn't touch" death by a thousand cuts

"I can't say hello to you and risk another goodbye" I almost do

"won't let no one break your heart...and even though you want to, please try to never grow up" never grow up

"I guess sometimes we all get just what we wanted" midnight rain

"so I'll say words I don't believe" bigger than the whole sky

"all love ever does is break, and burn, and end." begin again

"just because you're clean don't mean you don't miss it" clean

"you drew stars around my scars, but now I'm bleeding" cardigan

"I never was ready, so I watch you go" champagne problems

"I won't ask you to wait if you don't ask me to stay" tis the damn season

"wasn't it easier in your lunchbox days? always a bigger bed to climb into..." innocent

"I'd like to be my old self again, but I'm still trying to find it" all too well

"and I can go anywhere I want, anywhere I want, just not home." my tears ricochet

"should've kept every grocery store receipt, cause every scrap of yo would be taken from me..." marjorie

"so I'll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep, and I'll watch you forget me like I used to feel you breathe..." last kiss

[kimwexlers-brownhair]

How common a name/nickname is Meg in France? Because other than in POTO, I've never heard of a French person called Meg. Then again, I'm a big ignorant 'Merican, so what do I know? I'm curious, though. Is it strictly a nickname for Marguerite or Marjorie, or is it standalone, unlike in English? Does it usually mean the person has roots in places like the UK?

[igglemouse]

It is Sunday but not only that it's the start of summer! The most active season of the year some might say but for me, a season where I plan on finding a bit more stability to my life and hopefully a bit more purpose.

You might notice that I'm not in my own kitchen and that's because I'm still hanging over from last night. I just didn't feel like going home and I figure I might as well leave Pascal with a breakfast. Yesterday was certainly something and certainly worth staying the night for, if you know what I mean...

Breakfast today then was a simple salad, horse radish. Something that just has the look of a healthy dish and from what I can tell he really did enjoy it?

Keep in mind, this is a man that is on what I presume is a strict diet, being an athlete and all, and these people must treat their bodies well to get the most performance out of every muscle so it was great to learn that he approved of my little salad.

He claimed, with a light grin I should add, that it was the best salad he's ever had. I'm not one to turn down a compliment so I'm happy to hear it.

I head to the kitchen as he finished his meal to clean up since I was the one using it to cook him a meal. I had made a bit of a mess searching for dishes and bowls and probing in and out of his cabinets and fridge to make him a healthy breakfast. He didn't ask me to make him breakfast after all, it's something I did because...I don't know, I just wanted to?

Right as I finish I can feel him behind me and not long after that his hands are around my hips, pulling me closer to him, and soon kissing on my neck.

"You can stay over a little longer," he offers and I know there is more to that offer than just staying over and you know what? I'm down for it. I mentioned that last night I was left wanting more and so when more is proposed what am I to do but accept and what better way to accept then to turn around and find the shape of his lips again?

Let's just say, more is given, and I'm in no rush to get back home...

(XXX - Full Scene Here, Nudity, Sex - XXX)

So...that happened and it happened twice in 24 hours which left me soaking in his bath and thinking about it.

Of course there was the worry that I had given up too much too fast but...it felt good, so how could it be bad? No, I won't feel bad about it, in fact, I'll feel the opposite. With Simon a few days ago there was a lingering there that I could not explain. I felt like the main reason I was so eager to have him again was for some kind of closure. So that I could have him once more before moving on, maybe to make sure that I could move on?

With Pascal it just felt...right. There is a firmness to Pascal that doesn't quite exist with Simon. I feel like I could tie myself to Pascal and no matter what else might happen he'll remain. Does that make sense?

I let my mind wander a little more, idly swirling a finger around the water to watch it ripple. A thought roaming through my mind like an errant soap bubble. 'What do I offer to him?' A question but necessary and irrelevant. After all, whatever I bring should be good enough, right? But for a man like him it's hard not to worry that I'll never be enough for him. I have no reason to think like this other than my own anxiety and yet...

He wanted me to stay a little longer and I've decided to do just that. What's the rush to get home any ways? Not much there waiting for me.

I've also made the decision that since it is summer it's the perfect time to start selling ice cream, especially in the dry heat that covers Oasis Springs.

Not sure what flavor I'll be going for but I'm sure people won't be picky when out in the middle of this desert.

Marjorie calls and before she can invite me out to the gym (because I'm sure that's her plan) I tell her my situation and she seems excited about it? She's hoping the best for me and thinks I should just stay over. 'I bet he has a nice place and enjoy it while it lasts' is her reasoning and he does, its better than mines, at least.

Any ways, I am thankful to have made friends here already because it helps to have someone to talk to and I can't wait to tell Sara about it. I bet she's going to pester me for his autograph though.

While Pascal's ermm...form, yeah, his form, let's go with that. While Pascal's form has enthralled me I'm still focused on my career and I'm still going full on ahead with my food stand.

So I drag myself over to the park, which has proven to be a great spot to sell food. Thankful that it's only the first day of summer and not sometime in the middle of it because otherwise I would risk melting which is saying a lot because my natural bronze tone can usually hold up well under the sun. This is a different kind of heat though but perhaps the sun can make a good salesman for ice cream?

Unfortunately, it's not so. The stand again does poorly and brings in only around 500 simoleons which is half of what I've been bringing in.

At least I know why now, that stupid video, but what can I do about it? It's not like I can track down the idiot that made that video and force him to apologize...

It looked like I wouldn't have to track him down after all.

It was Ray. Ray Booker. Walking up to my stand again but I can tell there is less confidence in his stride now. He's vulnerable and I'm angry. "Culero!" I squeal the moment he's close enough for it to hopefully ruin his hearing. His hands are already up, imploring me to quiet down, not make a scene, but as I look around him what scene is there to be made when he's scared away my customers. "¡Has arruinado mi vida!"

"I-I have no idea what you've said but I can tell it must not have been nice," he says with a very stupid and hittable look on his face.

"These es my life!" I tell him, hating my thick accent at this moment. "Mi vid-"

"Frida...errr, Miss Varela? I-I'm sorry, I never meant to-"

"LIE!? YOU LIE!""

"M-Miss Varela? Y-yes, I did lie! I'm sorry! I really didn't mean...look," he took a deep breath and held up his hands which stayed my anger long enough for him to explain or maybe I was so angry I didn't know what else to say. "Negativity sells, ok? People like it when I tear down food, say it sucks, its garbage, whatever, so I exaggerate... a lot. Your pizza wasn't bad, it was well made but-"

My palms crashing on the table before me interrupts him. If only I were stronger I might have broken the thing.

"I-I had my buddy bring over one of your quesadillas, he came by your stand the other day, you might not have noticed but...it was amazing! I-I felt bad then, especially when I saw the effect my review had on your stand. Usually it...look, I thought what if my little video ruins the career of a great chef? I-I just couldn't-"

"¡Vete!" I say a few times with a flick of my wrist, waving him away, but I forgot that he had no idea what was being said. "GO! AWAY! LEAVE!" I shout now, drawing the attention of whoever was left in the park.

He takes a good long look at me, a pathetic look, and started to open his mouth but thankfully decided to leave. I hope I never see him again.

For some reason I head to Pascal's instead of home. I think the whole thing with Ray just tired me out and like I mentioned before. At least here I am returning to someone. I'm a social girl, living alone was never my thing...no, I haven't moved in here, not officially, but I figure I'll just hang around until I'm not wanted anymore...

Episode List - Next

[fayoftheforest]

human kite & antisemitism

In the notes of my recent meta on Vampire Kyle AUs, a user reflected on how similar antisemitic stereotypes might overlap with his TFBW character as well. Since I also have some thoughts on this and enjoyed putting together the last lil post I thought I’d do another on this subject too :) 

South Park Fandom Wiki states that Human Kite is heavily inspired by Superman, “being a faraway alien with the ability to fly and to shoot lasers out of his eyes, even wearing a costume with the color red, yellow, and blue and a symbol in his chest to match.”  I think this is pretty cool! Superman was created by Jewish immigrants and is very Jewish-coded in his origin story, being “a refugee with the Hebrew-inspired name ‘Kal-El’ who escaped a dying world and fought Nazis during World War II” (JewishUnpacked). I don’t know if Tratt were aware of these roots, but either way, I think it’s pretty neat :)

South Park Fandom Wiki also claims that Kyle playing an alien character “may be a reference to how Adolf Hitler did not consider Jews ‘human.’" This is. Uh. Less neat.

Similarly upsetting is the name itself, Human Kite, which is a play on words with the horrific ethnic slur “kike.” American Jewish Committee posits that the term “is derived from the Yiddish word for circle, ‘kikel,’ a reference to how Jewish immigrants at Ellis Island signed their entry forms: a circle as opposed to an X, which Jews associated with the cross of Christianity. Immigration officers described those who signed forms with a circle as ‘kikel,’ eventually being shortened to ‘kike.’”

Did Matt and Trey really create his entire character just so that Cartman could call him Human Kike that one time? I can’t say for certain, just in the same way I don’t have a direct quote from them confirming the reasoning behind their selections of names for Kyle and Ike. But I can tell you that if you put ‘em together and you get… yeah. Yep. “Kike” again. Thank you, Tratt, very cool 👍Get a new joke maybe :/

Now, let’s talk specifically about his laser powers. Up until researching for this meta, I had presumed that Kyle’s ability to shoot lasers from his eyes was a direct reference to the Jewish Space Laser conspiracy popularised to the public by terrifyingly influential political figure Marjorie Taylor Greene. In 2018, Greene wrote a Facebook rant speculating that the California wildfires were caused by a giant laser floating in space, owned by the Jews. Very normal thing to believe :|

However, during my research, I realised that these timelines did not match up. As mentioned, Greene’s rant was shared in 2018, but didn’t go viral until 2021. Meanwhile, South Park’s The Fractured But Whole was released way back in 2017! What I had initially assumed was another antisemitic reference is in fact just a dreadful and ridiculous coincidence. Nonetheless, It’s still a commonality that’s worth pointing out, I think.

Just as an aside, I’d like to take this opportunity to give a shoutout to cousin Kyle’s version of Human Kite. Everything about him is an egregious Jewish caricature, from his irritating, snivelling voice to his long list of health issues. It’s not my fault that the limited Jewish gene pool has fucked me over, Tratt! Leave me alone! A meta about antisemitism within Cousin’s Kyle characterisation would be a mile long, so I’ll spare you that for now.

Anyway, what does this all mean when we’re creating fan content around TFBW? Must we just chuck the Human Kite persona into a blender and never speak of it again? Not necessarily. Speaking as a Jewish fandom member, I quite enjoy reading and writing Human Kite. It’s a fun character to play around with! Despite his unfortunate roots, I don’t believe including him is innately antisemitic. It just depends on how you go about doing it! If he’s not secretly running the world, controlling the banks and Hollywood, or consuming the blood of innocent Christians, you’re on the right track. 

You could even go for a little meta-commentary and acknowledge the antisemitic coding within the text! Here’s an example of how I did that in my upcoming TFBW reality swap fic (don’t question why there’s two of everyone, it makes sense within the text lmao)

“Wait, you’re telling me in an alternate reality we’re all aliens?” Kyle gawks at this funhouse-mirror version of himself, who’s busy gawking right back. “No, Kyle, just—just you,” Kenny says. “Oh.” Kyle narrows his eyes. “You know, it’s difficult not to interpret this with antisemitic undertones.” “What, like the Jewish Space Laser conspiracy?” Cartman asks. Mysterion frowns. “Jewish people have space lasers in your universe?” “No,” Cartman sighs and shakes his head forlornly, before muttering, “it’s a made-up rumour to perpetuate mistrust and hatred towards the Jewish community.” “Alright, don’t sound so disappointed,” Kyle huffs. “Guys!” Stan says. “Can we not start this argument again?” “I never said it was a cool rumour, Kyle!” Cartman snaps defensively. “Obviously it’s super harmful and whatever. All I meant was that it would have been cool if it were real. Because, like, space lasers are awesome! Right?” He looks to Kite, apparently presuming that they’re an authority on the matter. “Um.” Kite blinks, then says hesitantly, “I can shoot lasers… from my eyes. And once I did sort of fly up into space and magnify the lasers to destroy Chaos’s tin foil factory. So, uh. Does that help?” Cartman’s face lights up and is split in half by an enthusiastic grin. “It helps a lot, actually.” Kyle groans and pinches his nose. “You have no idea how much education you’ve just undone, dude.” He opens his eyes to glower at Kite. Kenny glances at Chaos. “Tin foil factory?” Chaos waves a hand dismissively. “Outsourcing proved more efficient.”

There we go! A lighthearted little nod, which acknowledges potential antisemitic readings of Human Kite, without justifying or excusing it. It’s not at all necessary when creating fan content around Human Kite, but just know that that’s an option to you, if you so choose. Just make sure antisemites are the butt of your joke, and not Jewish people, lmao.

I’ll finish up by returning to my general sentiment that I held in my Vamp!Kyle post. If you conduct your creations with a basic level of awareness and self-reflection, you’ll probably be alright. Just stay in the know, and you’re all good to go 😎