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#day four: bookshop
twincitiesgeek · 13 days
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The MN Guide to Independent Bookstore Day 2024
Our annual Independent Bookstore Day guide is here! Check out what your favorite local shops in and near Minnesota have planned for Saturday.
Jump to store listings: Minneapolis | St. Paul | Greater Twin Cities Metro | Outside the Metro | Outside Minnesota It’s that time of year! On April 27, 2024, bookstores throughout Minnesota and around the country will be celebrating Independent Bookstore Day. Officially participating stores will have exclusive Independent Bookstore Day items while supplies last, which usually isn’t long—tote…
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steelycunt · 1 year
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just bought three new BOOKS because i had 10 quid worth of credit from my loyalty card and also a gift card i got for christmas...there is nothing quite like it!!
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actual-changeling · 6 months
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we do not talk enough about the moment right before crowley puts his sunglasses back on. the "nothing lasts forever" is devastating and if you're like me your eyes were so full of tears you couldn't see the screen the first time you watched it (just like crowley, look at us all twinning in sadness!).
there is a shift that happens in his eyes and i think it is absolutely fascinating and heartbreaking at the same time.
we begin with crowley averting his gaze from aziraphale's face and staring off into the distance instead, and you can see his spirit break. that crowley just lost the one thing in the world he cannot live without and we can see it written across his face like a neon sign.
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then, as you'd expect, he gives into the need to cover up his pain, to try and make himself less vulnerable, and even before he lifts his glasses he looks down so aziraphale can no longer see his eyes.
now, the next part is what would not let me out of its grasp all day. we know it happens because of his demeanour afterwards and up until the kiss, but you can actually watch as crowley makes himself numb to the world.
i am intimately familiar with dissociation as a trauma and stress response, and while you can never fully control it, you do eventually find the switch in your mind that makes you snap back into the haze. crowley has had six thousand years to get really, really good at leaving reality behind when he needs and/or wants to.
that's exactly what he does.
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he still looks sad, and yet there's just something distinctly distant in his eyes, the shift from openly heartbroken to "i don't want to feel any of this let me leave".
glasses? on
emotions? off
hotel? trivago
i have stared at those four frames more than any person probably should and i don't know if it's the light, if i am going insane, or if there is a single tear sliding out of his right (our left) eye. i'm probably insane and the light is a bitch so if anyone has some high resolution shots or anything that could answer that question without a doubt PLEASE do add it.
by now you are probably ready to threaten me with a knife in a dark alley but before you do that or drive your car off a cliff, let me tell you the best part:
aziraphale notices.
they might be communicating on two different frequencies but aziraphale knows crowley. he knows and loves him, and, most importantly, over the last few years he has gotten used to seeing crowley without his glasses. aziraphale could probably write a book on the expressions in his eyes alone and watches that shift happen and is devastated.
look.
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he tries to make himself hope the same second, tries to convince himself crowley is putting on his glasses so they can leave together, but he knows.
aziraphale sees the light leave crowley's eyes, sees crowley leave, knowing that he is quite literally running away from him. you and me against the world, angel, but in that moment crowley firmly pushes him back to "the world" (or tries to, anyway).
the entire season we see crowley take off his glasses whenever he enters the bookshop to the point where he's running around without them on in broad daylight with jimbriel right there.
can you imagine how hurt and confused aziraphale must be?
because what crowley is telling him, if we really, really break it down, is that aziraphale is no longer a safe person for him. and repairing that trust is going to take time and work, no matter how much crowley loves him, how badly they love and need each other.
anyway to seal this off and really rub in the pain - how it started vs. how it ended. <3
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oh one last thing: now crowley no longer has a single person he can be himself around, no one that knows him, no one he trusts. no one in whose presence he can take his glasses off.
and outside of the bentley and his own flat, he no longer has a place to do so either. the bookshop was theirs. with aziraphale gone, is it really a safe place anymore? is it somewhere he can just let himself be knowing he will be looked after and protected?
easy answer: no.
alright, off i go. see y'all on the next angst post or in the tags.
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mrsbarnesblog · 4 months
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Tattoo
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Tattoo Artist! Bucky Barnes x Bookshop Owner!Reader
Summary: When Natasha begged you to come with her to get her new tattoo done, you didn't expect that her actual plan would be to set you up with a fine-as-hell tattoo artist.
Word count: 5.8k
Warnings: +18❗️smut, p in v sex, oral sex (r receiving), protected sex, dirty talk, strangers to lovers, Bucky is hot as fuck, shy and socially awkward reader, insecurities.
Author's note: sooo, it took me forever to write, but I finally finished it and I'm kind of proud of this one. Bucky with tattoos and a low bun? yup, I'm totally ready to do whatever he desires! I hope y'all will like it too. feel free to leave comments or fic ideas💘
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“I’m going to be there almost for a whole day. I love those idiots, but I still need my best friend to cheer me up." Natasha threw her hand over your shoulders, trying to convince you to go with her on a tattoo session. It was not her first time, but now she wanted to get a much bigger one on her thigh, and, for some reason, she really wanted you to go with her, using the fact that it was your day off. 
“Nat, you know that I hate going to such places. I’m socially awkward; what am I gonna do there for so long? I don’t even know those people.” You frowned, already feeling a bundle of nerves in your stomach. 
You were what others may call boring, but you rarely went to unknown places or hung out with random people. You would rather stay with a book in your apartment and read for a whole day than get into such situations. Not to mention, that tattoo salon was full of men, and it made the whole situation even worse. 
“But you’re going to be with me. They are the nice guys, I promise. You will sit with us in the room; we can talk, or you can read another book, while Barnes will do my tattoo. I just don’t want to die of boredom there. Please?” She pulled you even closer, and you knew that she wouldn’t let that go. So you had no other choice but to agree. 
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You didn’t know what you were thinking when you decided that wearing a light, flowy dress would be a good idea. Because now, following Nat out of her car to that tattoo studio, it felt too short, too open, and just too much. You tried to calm down, thinking to yourself that there was nothing serious; you were just going to wait in the corner, and other people probably wouldn’t even pay attention or talk to you. Natasha, with her boldness and openness, was always the center, and you were totally fine with that. 
But you were so wrong. 
As soon as you walked inside, four men stopped talking, turning around to face you and Nat, and you honestly thought that you were going to faint. 
“Hey, guys. Hope you don’t mind that I brought my friend. So I do not have to listen to your boring asses complain all day." She teased, dragging you by the hand like a mom who tried to encourage her kid to talk. You were round-eyed, and a wave of heat washed over your body when you were face-to-face with a blonde and big guy. But before either of you could say or do something, a person who you didn’t recognise at first stepped in, pulling you into a hug. 
“Isn’t it my favorite book girly ever? How are you doin’?” Sam’s enthusiasm and energy were always so refreshing to you, so when he quickly pulled away, instead wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pushing you further into a studio, you tried to stay calm and not freak out.
"I didn't know that you were working here. How’s Sarah?” You asked, looking up at him. 
“Yup, for a few years. She is doing great, but AJ and Cass are a pain in the ass. They are growing too quickly, you know." He chuckled. “Now, say hi to those idiots.” He moved his head toward the men who were silently observing your interaction. “Tony, Steve, and Bucky.” Sam named them in order. Tony just nodded to you, Steve smiled with the friendliest smile you had ever seen, and Bucky... 
Your head became empty as soon as your eyes landed on him for the first time. He was leaning on the wall at the back of the room, so you didn’t pay much attention to him at first. He was hot. Unbelievebly hot. He was tall and muscular, with a low bun at the back of his head and tattoos covering the visible parts of his arms and neck. And as your gaze moved to his face, you almost choked on a fucking breath. 
Piercing blue eyes looked right directly at you, and the slightest smirk curled the corner of his lips. You didn’t know whether you felt too cold, too hot, or if you just wanted to vanish right on the spot. Your face heated, your eyes started running around the room, and your heart was beating a few times faster. It was overwhelming, and you thought that you would have to go out of there, but right on time, Natasha stepped in front of you, dragging all attention to herself. 
Bucky had to admit that once in his life, Sam was right. Sam tried to convince Bucky to go to that book shop for a few months, saying that he had to meet with the girl who worked there, but he was way too stubborn. 
He would have done it a long time ago if he knew you would look like the most precious, cute, and sweet person. Bucky could not take his gaze away from you as soon as Natasha dragged you inside, absorbing everything—from the way you looked so soft and pretty in that dress to the way you blushed and were nervous about the whole thing. 
He saw your reaction—how you became even more flushed after your intense stares at each other. Bucky was never the type of guy who liked to tease you, but Goddammit, he wanted to see how you would react if he stepped closer and talked to you. He also wasn’t creepy towards women, but the only thought that came to his mind was that he wanted to taste you. The desire to shove your back into the wall, lift up the skirt of your dress, and fall to his knees was shocking; he had never felt such an instant pull toward another person. 
“Barnes, are we going to start, or you’re planning on standing and staring for a whole day?” Natasha crossed her arms over her chest as if she were annoyed, but you thought that you heard something weird in her voice, as if she held back a smile. 
And then she quickly looked back at Sam and nodded with a smirk. 
You just followed Nat and Bucky to his own part of the studio. Too lost in your head because of your friend’s weird behavior, you sat down on the sofa in the corner, and the next thing you noticed was the tall figure leaning above you. You probably got carried away to much because now there was a cup of tea standing in front of you on the table.
You looked up, only to meet those pretty blue eyes again. Bucky looked down at you with the same smirk on his lips, and you could barely form a normal thought in your head. 
“Hope you don’t mind a hot tea, princess?” Yup, you were dead. Of course, he had to have the sexiest voice you have ever heard in your life. It was not enough for him to be charming or look like a fucking sin—he also had to sound hot. 
“Thank you.” You almost whispered. 
Bucky gave you another mysterious smile before going back to his place, where Nat was already without her pants and ready to start.
You and Nat were talking for the next few hours—well, she was mostly talking about a girl named Maria that she met not so long ago, and you were nodding, listening, and sipping your tea. That way, you almost forgot about Bucky sitting in the room with you because he was too focused on his job and didn’t even look away from the tattoo. 
To be honest, you accidentally looked at him one or two times because it was hard not to notice a few curls slipping out of his bun, or the way his tattooed and veiny arms seemed so sexy, or that perfect face profile... Fuck. But everything was good until Nat suddenly asked him to stop for a few minutes. 
“I really need to pee, Barnes.” She quickly jumped out of her place, winking at you as she walked away. 
“Natasha…” You hissed at her when she left you and Bucky alone in the room, your insides already shivering with nerves. She was fucking doing it on purpose. You were sure that everything here was her plan to set you up with Bucky because she had never left you anywhere alone, knowing your nervousness. 
“Are you afraid to stay with me alone?” Bucky chuckled, stretching his neck from an uncomfortable position. Your cheeks heated, and you unconsciously started scratching the surface of your phone case. He was charming. He obviously knew that, judging by the way he acted to tease you. When his question was left without an answer, he just shook his head, smiling to himself. “I didn’t know that Nat was dating girls.”
Bucky was desperately trying to make you talk. He saw how you looked at your friend when she left you alone with him, and knowing Nat, she would not have done it if you were truly afraid of him. So he was hoping that you were just too shy to talk to him and that he could make something out of it.
“Mhm. What, you hoped to have a chance with her?” You finally looked up, and you couldn’t hide the disappointment in your voice. Of course, Bucky was just trying to hit on your friend. Everyone tried. And you knew that she was so pretty and an amazing person, really, but you just wanted to experience it yourself at least once.
“With Nat?” Bucky almost laughed, genuinely taken aback by your response. “Nah, she’s cool, but not my type.”
“And who is your type?” You asked before you could even think about it. 
"You know, those cute and shy girls who can barely talk to anyone and easily blush or get nervous." You froze in your place, and you swore that the blood in your veins had done the same. Your eyes widened in shock, looking at the proudly smirking Bucky. Did he really mean that, or was it just a stupid joke? 
Natasha came into the room, curiously looking between you two, but you just stayed silent and looked away again, staying even quieter until the end of the session. 
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“Why did you do that?” You frowned, looking away from Nat and crossing your arms over your chest. As soon as she was done, you almost ran out of that place, the mixture of weird feelings bubbling inside of you, and you were too frustrated to even talk to someone there. 
“Did what?” Your head snapped back at her innocent, unbothered voice. She rolled her eyes, not looking away from the road. “I did that because I love you.” 
“And I love you too, but I hate that you and Sam put me in this position!”
“I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable. Don’t be mad at what I’m about to say, but I know that you feel lonely and that you want to have someone or to date someone. I understand your anxiety; I really do, but I wanted to help you.” Her voice sounded so genuine, and even if you were mad, you knew that Nat had always tried to do what was best for you. “Bucky is a good guy. He’s attractive, he’s kind, he’s funny, and he's definitely not a player. I just wanted you to meet him, and from what I saw, there was a sparkle between you.”
You didn’t say anything to that, because she was totally right. Even if you had never said that out loud, you wanted someone to like you. Was it that much to ask? It was just hard to believe that someone as attractive as Bucky, who could easily get a good handful of women whenever he wanted to, had actually flirted with you. 
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The next day, when you finally returned to your favorite place in the world, it was crazy. For some reason, too many people came to the bookshop, and almost everyone needed your advice or help. You were running around the shelves, putting the books in their places, receiving the payment, and then welcoming new customers. So when, at 9 p.m., you put the sign ‘closed’ on the door, you felt the relief that the day was almost over. 
You still had a lot to do, though. Taking the pile of books from the front table, you went to the back room, where you stored some of them. Suddenly, you heard the bell ringing and heavy footsteps on the wooden floor. 
“I’m sorry, but we are already closed. Please come tomor—” You forgot what you wanted to say when you looked out of the room into the main part of the store and saw the last person you ever expected. 
“Hey, princess.” Bucky put his hands into the front pockets, which made him seem even bigger, and smiled at you in a way that made your knees weak. He looked similar to what you saw yesterday—a low bun, black jeans, and a shirt that revealed some of his tattoos. God, his tattoos made you imagine things that were too inappropriate to say out loud. “Sorry that I came so late, but I just got off work, and I really wanted to see the place Sam has been bugging me about for weeks.” He noticed how you were looking at him again, but he decided not to tease you about it. 
“Um, hi.” You dusted off your hands and fixed the bottom part of your dress to make sure that everything was in it’s place. Bucky couldn’t help but follow your hands, staring at the way the hem of your dress moved around your thighs. “Do you need something? Like a book? Or you came just to get rid of Sam?”
“Yeah, maybe a fantasy book or something like that.” 
“I can show you where we have it, but I, um, need to finish the work here, so it would be great if you'd find a book that you like by yourself. Is that okay?” His stare was intense, and you really didn’t know what to do with this. Was he always like that with women? But Nat said that he wasn’t a player, and you trusted her more than yourself.
“Totally.” You nodded, calmed down your nerves as much as you could to not embarrass yourself in front of him, and you showed the way to the shelves at the back of the shop. 
“Take as much time as you need; I’ll go... there.” You pointed behind you to the piles of books, and Bucky chuckled at the way you were nervous around him. That was so fucking cute that he wanted to just scoop you up in his arms and make you blush again and again. 
Almost ten minutes later, you showed up again with a few books in your hands that were from the fantasy section, and as much as you wanted to escape Bucky, you also wanted to finish your job. He just quickly looked at you, too interested in the book in his hands, but didn’t say anything. 
You tried to reach the highest shelf to put the book in it’s place, but it was too far away. Usually you used a small ladder, but it was somewhere else now, and you just tried to do it standing on the tiptoes. 
“Let me do it, princess.” Bucky chuckled, closing his book and putting it down, and reached out to help you.
“No!”
“You won’t reach it. Just give it to me.” He placed his hand on your back, stretching the other one. 
“I can do it myself!” 
You couldn’t. Because the next thing you know, the book slipped out of your hand when you tried to make more distance between you and Bucky, and you also lost control of the ones you held near your chest. Everything fell onto the floor with a loud ‘boom’ and you prayed that nothing got damaged. 
Your head snapped back to say to Bucky that it was his fault, but he was already looking down at you, and you immediately forgot about everything. Only then did you realize that he was so close to you; his hand was holding your waist, and your back was almost pressed against his hard chest. 
“Sorry.” He didn’t know what he was sorry for. That he distracted you and made you drop everything, or for what he did next. After his eyes quickly looked at your plump lips, his right hand fell onto your cheek, and he kissed you.
Your instant thought was to push him away, run, and hide in the storage room, but the firm hand on your face and waist made it impossible to move. Bucky almost devoured your mouth and completely controlled you, and you could barely keep up with the rhythm of the kiss. 
He was good at it. 
No one ever kissed you as if it were the best thing they'd ever tried, but Bucky just couldn’t stop. He spined your body, so you were not in that awkward and uncomfortable position anymore. Now that you were standing chest to chest, your back got pressed into the shelves, and Bucky was towering over you. It felt unknown but so right at the same time. Your experience in this area was really poor, but the adrenalin in your blood made you a little bit more sure of yourself. 
“You’re doing something to me.” He breathed into the kiss, and you just whined without realizing it. He connected your lips again, tightening his hands on your waste and, that way, pulling you even closer. You had no idea where to put your hands, but your body seemed to work on autopilot, so they landed on his chest.
You felt something hard on the lower part of your belly, and the thought that Bucky had become hard solely because of the kiss nearly drove you insane. Hot, handsome, and charming men had never kissed you as if you were their last meal, teasing you with their bulge in the middle of your shop. 
God, he must be big. 
Your heart started beating so fast that you heard it in your ears. Was it the right thing to do? What should you do or say after that? Did he think that you kissed badly? 
“I can almost hear the thoughts in your head. Why are you worrying? You don’t like or want it? Just say, and I’ll step away.” You licked your lips, as if you tried to taste him again. You felt how your face heated again from being so close to Bucky. He didn’t sound or look as if he were judging you, and it made you feel safe enough to tell what was going on in your head.
“I just—I'm not really familiar with it. I barely know you, and you just kissed me, and I am at a loss for what to do." You said, nervously playing with the material of his shirt. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek, making you look at him. It surprised you that he didn’t try to do anything to push you, like many other men who just think with their dicks. Your stomach tightened from the way he stared at your face.
"I understand and that’s okay if you feel a little bit scared. I’m not pushing you and you can say no to me. I really came here just to talk to you, but I cannot think of anything else but you. Can I kiss you, princess?” Your eyes closed when you felt his breath on your lips again. You couldn’t deny that you wanted it too, so you just slightly nodded to his question. 
Bucky kissed you deeper and slower, allowing you to follow him. He stroked your cheek gently as his tongue slid into your mouth, causing you to moan. You swore that he smiled at your reaction, and it encouraged him to push his other hand from your waist to your thighs. 
Your skin started tingling when you felt it going under your skirt. Tattooed fingers traced the soft lines on your legs until they reached your underwear. Only then did you realise that you were getting wet. This whole time, it was not just nerves; oh no, your body actually just craved that man in front of you and now you could do nothing to hide it. In your last attempt, you tried to push your legs together, but you made it worse when Bucky’s hand slipped higher and touched the wet spot. 
“Holy fuck.” He growled, ending the kiss and looking down, where his hand stayed under your clothes. “You are not so innocent, huh?” 
“Shy and innocent are two completely different things, Bucky.” 
“Right.” Biting his lip, he looked up at you again with darkened eyes, and you felt his hand pressing onto your dressed core more firmly. “Can I taste you?"
Your eyes widen in shock. You were not a complete virgin, but unfortunately, you had never experienced that before. “My sexual life is actually really, and I mean really, meager, and no one ever asked me to do it.” You whispered, almost in embarrassment. 
“So you’re telling me that no one asked to eat you out, princess? Well, that’s a shame. I bet your pussy is as sweet as you are.” He ran his nose across your cheek, enjoying your delicate skin and the light scent of your perfume, until he reached the sensitive part of your neck. “Your scent drives me crazy... You’re so sensitive, God. When was the last time you were with someone?” You tried to act normal and not shiever, but when Bucky’s finger was running up and down the soft cotton of your panties, it was nearly impossible to do. 
“I don’t know. I did it just a few times, and I don’t date. Guys are not really interested in me.”
“Loosers.” 
“Bucky.” You moaned his name when he suddenly fell to his knees. That view was so surreal for you. He seemed desperate to touch and taste you, to please you, even though he was painfully hard in his jeans. But he did not go too far because he was waiting for your response. “What if someone walks in?”
“There is a sign on the door. Are there many people who go to bookshops at that time?” Bucky took your left leg, slowly putting it on his shoulder. Your eyes followed every move with curiosity and a hint of worry when he turned his head to softly kiss your thigh.
“Okay.”
Bucky took your leg off his shoulder but only to slide his hands under your dress and take off your underwear. He did not break eye contact when he helped you step out of it and then put them in his jeans pocket. With a quick motion, your leg returned to it’s place near his face and you blushed, realising how close he was.
With his right hand on your thigh and the left one slowly creeping up your other leg, Bucky started leaving kisses higher and higher, until he finally reached your pulled-up dress. When his head suddenly lowered and you felt the first touch of his tongue, you almost died. 
Up until that moment, you didn’t even realize how tense your body was, but that first lick sent a hot wave over you and you could not hold back a whine. You just became a fucking puddle under his touch. 
Bucky was not much better than you. He gripped your thigh harder, as if he wanted you to be even closer, and moaned when your taste blossomed on his tongue. He knew that he was addicted now and that he could spend hours in between your legs. His tongue slipped across your folds, collecting your juice, and then circled around your sensitive clit. 
“Fuck, princess. You’re s’ sweet.” 
"Bucky—oh my god, please!” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but that tight knot in your stomach was becoming almost too painful, and you felt tears forming in your eyes. As if Bucky had already understood your body better, he put two fingers of his left hand at your entrance, slightly pushing in just the tips. 
You moaned again, your hand moving on it’s own and grabbing Bucky’s hair in despair. He slowly slipped inside, letting you adjust while still not stopping the movements of his tongue. You felt so fucking tight and wet around his fingers and his cock painfully twiched in his jeans. He started pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, and if you weren’t so far up in your head, you would’ve been embarrassed by the noises coming out of you. 
The combination of his thick digits and tongue pushed you into your first orgasm. Your back arched, and your legs unconsciously tried to close, but Bucky did not let that happen, gripping your thigh tighter and holding you in place. 
“Cum for me, pretty girl. C'mon, don’t be shy.” He encouraged you and that was everything you needed. 
You had no idea what happened next because your body felt like it was floating and your head fell back with a moan of Bucky's name. He let you go through it, slowing his pace and pulling out his fingers. As much as he didn’t want to stop, he knew that it was enough for you for the first time. 
You felt how Bucky jently lowered your leg and then, holding you by the waist, stood up and shamelessly licked his shiny lips. “I can’t believe you actually just did that. No one has ever given me an orgasm.” 
“Princess… You’re unbelievable.” He got closer to you, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your scent. You could feel hardness in his pants, and while Bucky did not try to push it any further, the desire within you made you bold. 
“Do you have a condom?” Bucky immediately pulled away from you, his eyes darker than before and his hands tightening on your waist. You bit your lip and lowered your gaze, as if you said something wrong. 
"No, no, no, you can’t get shy after you just asked me this. Eyes on me, princess. Do you really want it?" 
“I do.” 
Bucky connected your lips, distracting you from unnecessary thoughts, and you felt two hands on the back sides of your thighs. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist, as if your body knew what to do better than you. You both moaned when his bulge met with your dripping core; Bucky’s grip tightened and he slightly moved your hips. 
Firmly holding you in his hands, Bucky stepped away from the shelves and went to the table that was standing nearby. He blindly moved aside some books there, dropping a few on the floor and receiving a groan from you. He put you on the flat surface, not moving away from between your legs. 
Your hands finally felt more confident to study his tattooed skin. You never realised that you were into people with tattoos, but now, looking at the variety of things covering his tanned skin, your belly tightened with anticipation. Your hands slowly reached his neck, slightly pulling him closer. 
“You didn’t answer my question. Do you have it?” Instead of replying to you, Bucky, not breaking eye contact, reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. He opened it, taking the shiny square that was sticking out of there. 
Your eyes shot up at him, meeting his half-hooded and full-of-lust eyes. Bucky looked right back at you, mesmerized by your beauty—by the way your cheeks heated and your lips were slightly swollen. He quickly unbuttoned his pants, sliding them with boxers down his legs, until his hard as rock cock was free with pre-cum leaking from the tip. 
“If you’re going to look at me like that, then I might cum like a teenager before everything starts, princess.” Bucky growled, squeezing your thigh in his hand. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, then looked at his face again. You didn’t want to stare at his cock, but holy shit, it was better and bigger than everything you’ve seen before. You wondered what it would taste like, and that one thought made you clench around nothing. 
With a quick, smooth motion, Bucky opened the package with his teeth, sliding the condom down his shaft. His hand moved you closer to the edge of the table, so now your faces were just a few centimeters away and you could feel his cock through the fabric of your dress. 
“Be a good girl and hold it here for me.” Bucky folded your dress on your stomach, guiding your hand there, so he had better access to your sweet pussy. He had to see how he was disappearing inside of you with his own fucking eyes.  
“Bucky…” You whined because of the way you were exposed to him, but you still did what he said. With wide eyes, you looked at how he moved even closer to you, slightly brushing your folds with the tip. Your free arm gripped his tattooed forearm, digging in your nails. 
“So wet for me, so pretty... God, princess. I won’t be able to keep my hands from you. Say you want this. I need to hear it.” He palmed the side of your face, making you look up at him, and held himself at your entrance at the same time. 
“I want it. Please.” You whispered, your eyes running back and forth between his pretty blues. 
When he finally started slowly pushing into you, your mouth opened with a silent moan, and your eyes almost crossed with the way your whole body got covered with goosebumps. Bucky could not tear his eyes away from the place you two were connected. He felt every movement of your body and felt how your pussy almost sucked him inside. 
He knew that you would feel good, but he did not realize that it would feel like the most correct thing in his life. 
Bucky finally bottomed into you, stretching you the way you had never been before. You both thought that you could cum in that exact second, but you also both wanted to extend this moment as much as you could. 
“Princess…” That sounded so desperate when Bucky finally started moving his hips, dragging his cock out and then pushing right back in. "Fuck, I need to kiss you. You feel like a fuckin’ heaven, holy shit.” Not stopping sliding into you at a steady pace, he dragged your face closer, as if his life were depending on it. Bucky greedily bit and sucked your bottom lip, swallowing every moan and whine you let out.
“Mh— I can’t— oh, Bucky!” You cried, trying to hide your face in the crook of his neck.
He pulled you back away from his body, holding you that way so he had a better view of your face and body. He felt the way your thighs tried to squeeze together, your face started to heat and you tried to look away. 
“Don’t you dare become shy when I’m balls deep in you, princess.” He slowed his movements and teased you until you almost begged him to fuck you properly again. “You need to cum, huh? Show me those pretty eyes; don’t hide from me, c’mon.” You looked up, almost whining from the way he was looking at you. Pupils blown out, eyes slightly narrowed, and running around your face with interest and desire. “Do you need something? Speak up, sweet girl.”
“I want to cum. Let me, please.” 
“Good fucking girl.” 
Bucky started fucking you with a new forse; the table under you was squeaking with every move, making the whole scene even dirtier. You could not care about embarrassment anymore, moaning Bucky name and begging him to be harder. 
You both felt how close you were. 
Your hand, with your skirt in it, tightened around the fabric, your spread legs were trembling and you started uncontrollably squeezing Bucky’s cock inside of you. His dirty words made your vision foggy with satisfaction and the way he didn’t stop hitting your sweet spot was enough for you to go crazy with an overwhelming orgasm.
“Bucky! Bucky, oh my— fuuuck!” You cried in pleasure, feeling a few more thrusts of his throbbing cock, until he finally slowed down and emptied himself in the condom. Your body fell forward right into Bucky’s chest, too tired to even sit straight. He wrapped his hands around you, slowly stroking your back and kissing your temple. 
“You are fucking amazing, princess.” He mumbled into your hair and you just hummed in response. After a few quiet minutes, when your head started to clear up and the whole weight of this situation fell on you, you finally pulled away, hiding your eyes from him again. “What? What’s wrong?” 
“I just… I don’t know what we are supposed to do in this situation; I mean— it was just sex for you, right?” You asked, focusing on one particular tattoo on Bucky’s neck to not show how nervous you were.
Bucky didn’t answer for a few seconds, but you felt the weight of his eyes on you. Then he lifted your face with one of his hands and softly smiled at you. “If it meant nothing for me, I would’ve already been on my way home. I want you. I wanted you from the moment I saw you and I won’t be satisfied until you let me take you out. Are you free tomorrow evening, sweetheart?” He cooed, playfully tilting his head to the side. That man and his charm would be the death of you…
“Um, okay. I’m free, if you’re not kidding.”
“Not in the slightest. Now get dressed. I'm taking you home.” He pecked your lips before slowly pulling out of you and getting rid of the condom. You slowly jumped from the table, legs trembling from two mind-blowing orgasms, not missing how Bucky’s smirked at you. 
“You don’t have to take me home, Bucky.” You fixed your dress and hair as much as you could without a mirror and then picked up the books from the floor that were forgotten during your makeout session. 
“Well, I didn’t see a car near the shop, so I assume you’re walking home. And it’s dark.” He walked behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and burying his face into your neck. “I don’t like this idea. I’m driving you home, princess.” 
“Fine. You won.” You playfully made an annoyed voice to what Bucky just chuckled and held you even closer. 
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charliemwrites · 3 months
Text
Sooooo I learned a valuable lesson last night. Which is not to draft things in tumblr. Because I wrote almost all of this in drafts, was like 15 minutes from posting. And then the app glitched when I changed the song I was listening to and lost everything.
I’m not entirely sure I wrote this version half as well as the original, which is maddening. But please enjoy this next part to the Mister(s) Steal Your Girl (poly 141) series.
Content: Safe/Sane/Consensual Intimacy
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You honestly didn’t expect to speak to Kyle again after the bookshop encounter. Sure, you exchanged numbers and he seemed so sincere, but your faith in reading people has been a bit shaken as of late.
That said, you wouldn’t have held it against him if you didn’t. You’d had a wonderful time meeting someone new, even if just for a moment. He seemed like a busy man in a high-stress job, it wouldn’t be a surprise if he looked at your open-relationship-with-a-fiance situation and decided it was too much drama.
But the very next day after meeting him, he sends you a text. Repeating that he had a great time and asking if you’ve already started any of the books you bought.
You try (and probably fail) not to giggle like a schoolgirl every time he texts you. He’s as sweet through the phone as he was in person. Throughout the week, he checks on you (more messages than you’ve gotten from your fiance in a month) asking after your days and nights and generally chatting.
On Thursday at lunch, you ask if he’d like to meet up again, heart clenching anxiously. Nearly throw your phone across the break room when his name pops up as an incoming call.
When you answer, he doesn’t even waste time on a greeting.
“I’d like to take you on a date, luv,” he specifies, voice silky and amused in your ear.
Date one is a nice dinner. He shows up at the door with flowers. You have to take a second to blink away the mist in your eyes.
“Sorry, sorry,” you hurry to say, summoning a smile. “Just no one’s ever bought me flowers. Thank you, they’re wonderful.”
And then you realize that probably sounds pathetic and quickly turn away to deposit them in a vase. (Miss the baffled and almost offended frown on Kyle’s face as that processes.)
At dinner, the two of you toast by tapping your appetizers together. He feeds you bites of his meal from his own fork, and you let him try your wine, giggling at the faces he makes.
The night ends (after dessert, a walk in the park, and a nightcap at a quiet bar) at your front door. Kyle fits a big, warm hand on your waist, pulls you in… and drops a chaste kiss to your cheek.
You try not to let your disappointment show, but he must catch it because he chuckles and gently nudges your face back into position. Graces you with another kiss at the corner of your mouth.
“I want to, darling,” he admits, so close you’re sharing air. “Trust me, I want to. But I need you to know I’m doing this for the right reasons too.”
Touched and a little choked up, you hug him tight, cheek pressed to his chest. His breath stutters. And then his strong arms are curling around you, tucking you in, his whole body becoming a warm haven.
“Can we… can we do this again?” you ask hopefully.
“Darling, I’d take you out tomorrow if you’d let me.”
Date two is bowling, which you find Kyle is actually terrible at, despite being a sniper. You laugh and joke through three games, trouncing him each time. He doesn’t seem to mind losing in the slightest, and even takes you out for a victory ice cream afterwards. You hold hands while you lick at the cone.
Date three, you invite him to a wine and paint night. He seems willing, though unsure. By the end, though, the two of you are giggling and tipsy, paint on your hands and faces. He kisses you against the passenger door of his car, lips soft and gentle. Moans when the tip of his tongue skims your bottom lip.
On date four, you sing to the radio in the car. Blush when you catch him sneaking glances at you, but also notice that he goes around the same block twice. Tease that you’re going to be late if he keeps stalling.
At the end of the night, he sweeps you in close on the dance floor.
“Come home with me?” he asks in your ear.
Your heart stumbles as you nod, cheeks hot.
He barely gets you in the door before pressing you back against it. Fingers in your hair, body one firm line pressed flush to yours. Kissing earnest but not rough, flicking at your bottom lip until you open for him with a soft sigh. He tastes like heaven, like the drinks you shared before this. Your fingers curl into his Henley, tugging him closer, arching your back.
The desire he’s been steadily building in your gut bursts into an inferno. You’re burning all over, can barely breathe. Dizzy with his cologne.
You break the kiss with a squeak when he scoops up beneath the thighs.
“I-I’m too heavy!” you gasp, clinging tight.
“Like hell you are,” he scoffs. “Come back here, I’m not done kissing you.”
You hesitate, taking stock. But he doesn’t feel like he’s straining; didn’t even make that mortifying grunt noise. Feel secure enough to lean back just a bit to check his expression.
There’s not an ounce of effort there. Just liquid dark eyes focused on your swollen lips, tilting his chin to coax you back. You go with a little thrill in your stomach, messier this time, teeth scraping.
He bumps you against the wall on his way to the bedroom. It doesn’t hurt but it makes you laugh against his cheek.
“Love your laugh,” he murmurs into your neck. “Could listen to it all day.”
Somehow that makes you flush more than the hard bulge pressing against your ass. So you shove your tongue in his mouth again to shut him up, breathless at his tongue curling against yours.
You squeal when he drops you on the bed with a little bounce, a brilliant, cheeky smile your reward. Then he tugs his shirt off and your mind goes utterly blank.
He’s a monument of strength and discipline, power in every plane of hard-earned muscle. There are glossy scars peppering his skin, and you’re fascinated as much as you are sad for his pain. He looks like a young god. You’ve seen marble statues half as beautiful as him.
“You’re bloody gorgeous,” you whisper, crawling to the edge of the bed.
He shivers and leans into your palms as they explore up his toned stomach, across the defined lines of his chest and shoulders, down his arms. Leave open-mouthed kisses against long-healed wounds and patches of smooth skin alike, appreciating every part of him.
He uses your interlocked fingers to draw you away, bending to meet you halfway. Speckles kisses over your cheeks and jaw, down to a tender spot beneath your ear that makes you hum. You could melt into him and just float.
He pauses there, breathes you in. “Can I take this off?” he asks, plucking at your shirt. You hesitate, just for a beat — but it’s enough to have Kyle pulling back a little.
“We can stop here,” he offers. “Or we can just keep doing this. Whatever you want, luv, I’m not fussed.”
You duck your head, but he doesn’t let you escape for long, gently guiding your gaze up by the chin.
“Talk to me?” he asks.
“I-I want to keep going,” you say, “I’m just… and you’re so…”
He shakes his head, kisses you quiet. “I’m not anything but a man that wants to make his girl happy. In whatever way she’s okay with, yeah?”
You have to blink away another sting of inopportune tears. Then reach for your shirt and pull it off yourself.
“Bloody hell,” he murmurs, eyes going big.
You flush as he nudges you back, spread out amongst the neat sheets and pillows. His eyes trace every inch of you over and over, hands quick to follow. The contrast of his rough palms on your skin makes you squirm and sigh. He touches you like you’re something special, like he wants to savor you.
He nibbles kisses into your collarbones, lavishes your breasts with tongue and gentle teeth. Works his way down your stomach and stops again.
“Can I take the rest off?” he asks.
You don’t hesitate this time, shifting to give him access to the zipper. His hands fumble a bit when he notices the embarrassing wet patch on your underwear, thumbing at your slit through the fabric.
“Please let me eat you out,” he breathes.
You press your thighs together, nervous. “Y-you don’t have to…”
“I want to, luv,” he answers, eyes barely flickering away. “Fuck do I want to.”
Words desert you, so all you can manage is a jerky nod. For the first time, his patience seems to fray as he tugs your underwear off. Barely gets them down to one ankle before diving between your legs.
He laces sweet kisses along your thighs and hips, slowing as he gets closer and closer to where you want him most. His tongue dips into your slit, just skims your throbbing and sensitive clit. You moan softly. The next swipe of his tongue is bolder, curling at your soaked entrance. He groans into you, deep and animal from his chest and makes you shudder.
“That’s it, baby,” he whispers. “Just enjoy.”
It’s impossible not to when he pampers your cunt so thoroughly. Never rough, never too fast. Like he could spend all night between your thighs. Sucking gently at your clit, thrusting his tongue inside, lapping in perfect, even strokes. You didn’t think you enjoyed oral from the few times you’ve experienced it — but Kyle makes it heavenly.
One of his hands, squeezing absently at your hip, travels down. He presses a finger at your entrance, playing in your slick but not going further. Waiting. You murmur a soft “please” that nearly has him growling.
Even just one finger feels like so much. His hands are bigger than yours. And so deliciously clever. It’s not long before you’re babbling for another, crying out softly when he provides. Two fingers curling and rubbing against your slick, sensitive walls and his tongue swirling around your needy clit — it’s so much. Overwhelming and perfect.
“K-Kyle, ‘m gonna…” you keen, shocked by how quickly it’s building.
Then he hums an encouragement and that little extra bit of stimulation sends you hurtling over the edge. You clench around his hand, hips twitching, grinding against his willing mouth through wave after wave. Not even aware of the noises you’re making until they fade off into soft whimpers of overstimulation.
Kyle eases his fingers from you, drops one last kiss to your hip. The lower half of his face is glistening. If you weren’t still somewhere in the stratosphere, you’d be embarrassed. But right now all you can manage is a quiet, needy noise, reaching for him.
He smiles and crawls over you, the warmth of his body soothing your shivery muscles, easing you through aftershocks. You wipe absently at his chin as you exchange lazy, sloppy kisses. Surprised to find that you don’t mind the taste of yourself; not much different than jizz.
“Give me… another second…” you mumble, head falling back as you catch your breath. “I’ll return the favor.”
Against your leg, you can feel him twitch through his jeans. He feels big. Your stomach clenches with want.
“That sounds bloody amazing, don’t get me wrong,” he answers, voice husky in your ear. “But if you’re up for it, I’d like to feel you cumming ‘round my cock.”
You gasp, not sure if you’re scandalized or even more turned on than before. Both?
“Wait, but I already…”
“I know, I was there,” he teases, kissing your temple. “But I wanna see it again. Feel it proper this time.”
You pause, blinking up at him as you trace your fingers along his ribs. “But isn’t that… I dunno, unfair?”
“Fuck no,” he answers. “I’d spend all night just making you cum if you let me.”
You huff and swat at him. “I think you’d kill me.”
“What a way to go, though, eh?” he chuckles, arching his eyebrows.
You groan, but there’s no hiding your grin. He brushes hair back from your face, cups your cheek.
“What do you say, baby? Let me fuck you good and proper.”
You snort, turn to nip his thumb in relation, but chirp, “yes, please!”
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neil-gaiman · 4 months
Note
Hello Mr Neil Gaiman, I write to say you have ruined me; again. Four times in my life I have been utterly and hopelessly rotted and ruined and consumed by your work. First was when I was 4 and first watched Coraline, I didn't even know who you were and couldn't conceive it either way back then; but I remember watching the movie so much until the disc scratched, and making my mum buy me a coraline doll and lalaloopsy dolls that reminded me of it. Then when I was 12, when season one of good omens came out, and I immediately found out it was a book (WHAT?? IT'S A BOOK?? I NEED TO READ IT PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE-)(I read it), and it was all I could find myself speaking about for months. This year when season 2 came out, I was absolutely heartbroken, and this altered my brain in a way I had never even dreamed possible; everything clicked that the common denominator in making me go insane was *you*, so I followed you on tumblr and everywhere I could and I made it my life's mission to read more of your books. First, as soon as I could, I read The Neil Gaiman Reader in two days and it was SO GOOD (and returned it to the library as soon as I finished), and I knew instantly I had to get The Ocean At The End Of The Lane. Only trouble is, where I live has basically no books, of anyone's, ever, so I searched probably five different bookshops until I found it and I immediately got it. I wasn't allowed to read it till Christmas though. Then Christmas day came, the day I had hyped up in my head for so long, simply because I got to read this book, so in one sitting on Christmas, I read the ocean at the end of the lane. I think I have found a new obsession to occupy my brain. How do you write all of these things? How do you inspire these feelings? I feel like you have a kind of magic to you. I have spent basically the whole day since googling everything I can about this novel (and hoping, wishing and praying that the play will return and come to Western Australia some day), but now I have the VERY URGENT request of answering my questions please please please pretty please. 1) What are some things you wish people knew about The Ocean At The End Of The Lane that they don't know already? 2)What are questions that you want people to ask about it, but haven't yet? 3) Where did you get all of the magic and emotion and EVERYTHING encapsulated those pages? - Yours sincerely, an extremely obsessed high school senior.
Dear E.O.H.S.S.
I'm really happy it had that effect on you. Now we both have to hope that the National Theatre adaptation of The Ocean at the End of the Lane gets revived and makes it to Australia, because most of your questions are sort of answered in the play.
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fuckyeahgoodomens · 1 month
Text
Good Omens filming locations masterpost! ❤ 🐍😊 Part 2
(here to part 1 :))
Here to the map :)
Others in England (cont):
Tadfield Manor (S01E01, S01E02) - Bulstrode, Gerrards Cross
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Scene: The Tadfield Manor where the satanic nuns run the hospital in the first episode and Aziraphale and Crowley visit in the second episode
Availability (as of 2024): The manor has been in private hands since 2016 - in 2023 sold again, I didn't find on the internet that it would be available to visit in any form, the manor is not visitble from the public road.
Link on the map
Four Horsemen meeting (S01E05) – Old School Cafe, Longcross Road B386
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Scene: The cafe where Four Horsemen meet
Availability (as of 2024): street all day, the cafe Mon-Fri 7:30-15:00, Sat-Sun 8:30-15:00
Link on the map
Heaven middle floors (S01E01, S01E03, S01E04, S01E05) - Weybridge Business Park, Addlestone
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Scene: The Heaven middle floors scenes in season 1 were filmed here
Availability (as of 2024): The places can be sort of seen from the street but I don't think that visiting is possible
Link on the map
Pollution by the river (S01E04) – River Wey Navigation, Guildford
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Scene: The International Express Man delivers the package to Pollution
(fun fact: this one was the harderst one to pin down the exact location, I only knew bc of an article that the schooting took place by "Wey Navigation" which is a river long 32km (miles), I tried to find a better mention or through google maps comparing place for a long time but couldn't, finally I wrote to the River Way Navigation organization on facebook but they had no record of the shooting. Finally, in one of the photos I noticed that in the background there is a footbridge that I saw a photo of a similar footbridge while searching on a history of Wey Navigation river on the UK National Trust page and fortunately the previous mentioned facebook page knew where it was, WAHOO! :))
Availability (as of 2024): all day
Link on the map
Hogback Wood (S01E01, S01E02, S01E04, S01E05) - Painshill Park, Cobham
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Scene: The Hogback Wood where The Them play, seen in several episodes.
Availability (as of 2024): The entrance to the park is paid (£11 with prebooking online on https://painshill.co.uk/visit-us/ticket-prices-booking/) They open at 10 and close at 16-18 depending on the season. The World Word II crater they shot the main scene at should be in the west-south tip of the park. The whole path there and back is 4km (2,5 miles).
Link on the map
International Express Man's house (S01E04) - Shetland Close, Guildford
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Scene: The International Express Man leaves the house to make deliveries
Availability (as of 2024): street all day
Link on the map
Agnes Nutter's village (S01E02) - Weald & Downland Living Museum, Chichester
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Scene: The Agnes Nutter's village in episode two. In the map I highlighted which part we see the villagers and Witchfinder Major Pulsifer to through in the show.
Availability (as of 2024): The entrance fee is paid (£15.50 for an adult ticket prebooked online https://www.wealddown.co.uk/), it opens at 10 and closes at 16-17 depending on the month.
Link on the map
Tadfield Air Base (S01E05, S01E06) - RAF Upper Heyford, Bicester
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Scene: For the shooting of the Tadfield Air Base the former RAF Upper Heyford was used, by the examining the google maps and screenshots from the series I think that the area labeled as 'Shelter 9' was used.
Availability (as of 2024): The place is no longer used by RAF purposes, there are several companies that use certain areas it but it is not available for public. The Upper Heyford Heritage though organizes (paid - £25.00) tours through the airbase: http://www.upperheyfordheritage.co.uk/home-page/tour-booking/
Link on the map
Soho (S1) – Bovingdon Airfield Studios
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Scene: The Aziraphale's bookshop and Soho in season one were built at Bovingdon Airfield Studios
Availability (as of 2024): The studios can be rented but I don't think they are publicly available – the Soho is not there anymore though, it is now build in studios in Scotland.
Link on the map
The motorway on fire (S01E05) - M96 Training Motorway at Fire Service College, Moreton-in-Marsh
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Scene: The motorway on fire when Crowley is heading for Tadfield was filmed at M95 Training Motorway at Fire Service College that is usually used for training emergency service professionals
Availability (as of 2024): Not publicly available.
Link on the map
South Africa:
The 1941 church (S01E03) - St. Saviour's Church, Claremont, Cape Town
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Scene: The scene in Season 1 where Aziraphale is outsmarted by the Nazis and is saved by Crowley
Availability (as of 2024): Their facebook says Always open
Link on the map
Famine at a fancy restaurant (S01E03) - Mutual Heights building, Cape Town
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Scene: The restaurant where we meet Famine for the first time
Availability (as of 2024): It is a building with flats, offices and a reception, not available to public.
Link on the map
Crowley in a cinema (S01E04) - Joseph Stone Auditorium, Cape Town
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Scene: Crowley in a cinema (with Neil Gaiman cameo) watching animated rabbits when Hastur interrupts
Availability (as of 2024): Not publicly available as such but they there are presentations and and such happening there https://www.facebook.com/josephstone1968/
Link on the map
Aziraphale dancing gavotte (S01E04) - Casa Labia, Cape Town
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Scene: Aziraphale dancing gavotte in a discreet gentlemen's club in Portland Place in the late 1880s was filmed at Casa Labia in Cape Town
Availability (as of 2024): Casa labia is hotel and a restaurant so it can be visited in that way https://www.casalabia.com/
Link on the map
Anathema's child home (S01E02) - Llandudno Rock Villa, Cape Town
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Scene: The home which we see Anathema as a child with The Book (in the show it's Malibu, California)
Availability (as of 2024): street all day, the villa itself seems that it can be rented
Link on the map
Eden desert and ep6 time bubble desert (S01E01,S01E06) – Atlantis Dunes, Cape Town
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Scene: The Eden desert scenes and the time bubble with Adam and AC were filmed in the Atlantis Dunes at the outskirts of Cape Town
Availability (as of 2024): The Atlantis Dunes – or Witzands Aquifer Conservation Area – is a protected natural area. Biking adventures can be booked through https://atlantisdunes.com/ or also other activities through https://www.capetown.gov.za/Family%20and%20home/see-all-city-facilities/our-recreational-facilities/Nature%20reserves/Witzands%20Aquifer%20Nature%20Reserve
Link on the map
The apple tree in the Garden of Eden (S01E01) - Waterfall Valley (formerly Cascade Country Manor), Paarl
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Scene: The Eden apple tree with the waterfall in the background was filmed at the retreat Waterfall Valley (then Cascade Country Manor) (the tree was added by the film crew for the scene)
Availability (as of 2024): I am not sure if you can visit the waterfall like that or you have to be a guest in the restreat. The retreat is available for booking: https://www.waterfallvalley.online/
Link on the map
There were other scenes also filmed at South Africa (thought not specified exactly where): Hell was filmed in Cape Town in a former abattoir. The Noah’s Ark scene and the Crucifixion scene were filmed on a windswept plain just outside Cape Town. Also the Meggido scenes. The entire village used for the scene with War causing mayhem in an african village is in fact a set, built on scrubland over a sand mine just outside Cape Town. The French Revolution scene wa shot on a set that had been used twenty-four hours earlier for the scene in Ancient Rome. Famine visiting a burger place with Elvis was shot on a set in Cape Town. Also some scene's in Anathema's cottage with Anathema and Newt.
SEASON 2
Most of season 2 has been shot inside the film studio in Bathgate (f.e. the whole Soho has been built there), the Hell in S2 has been shot in an old disused factory (not specififed which one). The shots of the Edinburgh castle have been shot from the top of the The Caledonian hotel.
Edinburgh:
Crowley and Shax in St James's Park (S02E01) – Inverleith Park, Edinburgh
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Scene: Crowley and Shax meet to discuss the news in St James's Park – the scene though was actually filmed in Scotland.
Availability (as of 2024): All day
Link on the map
The place where Crowley parks the Bentley (S02E01, S02E02) – Circus Lane, Edinburgh
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Scene: The place Crowley goes to to park the Bentley and sleep there
Availability (as of 2024): street all day
Link on the map
AC and Elspeth in Edinburgh (S02E03) - Moray Place, Edinburgh
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Scene: Aziraphale, Crowley and Elspeth are taking the first "pickled herring" to be sold, Aziraphale and Crowley are debating good and evil
Availability (as of 2024): street all day
Link on the map
Detective Aziraphale parks the Bentley (S02E03) – Victoria Street, Edinburgh
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Scene: Aziraphale arrives in the Bentley and happily goes to investigate
Availability (as of 2024): street all day
Link on the map
The Resurrectionist (S02E03, S02E06) - Cask and Barrel, Edinburgh
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Scene: Aziraphale goes to investigate to The Resurrectionist bar (also in Gabriel's memories with Beelzebub) – filmed in the Cask and Barrel bar
Availability (as of 2024): outside all day, inside 12-24, Fri-Sat 12-1
Link on the map
Stirling:
Edinburgh cementery (S02E03) - Old Town Cemetery, Stirling
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Scene: The cemetery in episode 3 was filmed at the Stirling cemetery (grave, some gravestones, Gabriel's statue and the crypt has been added by the crew for the shooting)
Availability (as of 2024): all day
Link on the map
AC and Elspeth going through Edinburgh (S02E03) – Broad Street, Stirling
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Scene: Aziraphale, Crowley and Elspeth going through Edinburgh while Aziraphale is trying to persuade her that she could do something else
Availability (as of 2024): street all day
Link on the map
Meeting Wee Morag (S02E03) - Mar's Wark, Stirling
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Scene: The small corridor behind the gate where Wee Morag is staying
Availability (as of 2024): The front all day, the corridor if not through the gate then hopefully from the other side
Link on the map
Others in Scotland:
AC drinking whiskey with Mr Darlymple and the corridor to Mr Darlymple (S02E03) – Hopetoun House, Queensferry
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Scene: Aziraphale and Crowley drinking whisky with Mr Darlymple while he explains why he needs fresh dead bodies also at the house has been filmed the corridor reading to Mr Darlymple
Availability (as of 2024): Hopetoun is visitable, Friday 29 March 2024 to Sunday 29 September 2024 Open 5 days per week (Thursday – Monday) from 11am to 5pm, £13.50 for an adult ticket for House and Grounds (to see both), or £13.50 for Grounds (to see the corridor)
Link on the map
The Windmill Theatre in 1941 (S02E04) - Hippodrome Cinema, Bo'ness
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Scene: The theatre that Crowley delivered the broken alcohol to and Aziraphale performed the bullet catch
Availability (as of 2024): You can visit the cinema for a movie or an event https://www.hippodromecinema.co.uk/whats-on/
Link on the map
Soho and more (S2) - The Pyramids Studio, Bathgate
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Scene: The S2 Soho has been built in the Bathgate studio, also there were built and shot many other scenes
Availability (as of 2024): It is not available to visit for public
Link on the map
London:
Possibly only streets were filmed and the Bentley was added with VFX.
C on the way to A after A calls him (S02E01) - Wardour Street, London
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Scene: Crowley on the way to Aziraphale after Aziraphale calls him (to tell him about Gabriel)
Availability (as of 2024): street all day
Link on the map
C rushing to A after Beelzebub's visit (S02E01) - Regent Street St James's, London
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Scene: Crowley rushing to Aziraphale after Beelzebub told with that anyone who will be find helping Gabriel will be dealt with extreme sanctions
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Whew! This masterpost took me several weeks, hope you enjoyed it and it might help you plan your trip to see the Good Omens places! :) ❤ 🐍😊 Wahoo! :)
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Can i request Lando with bookworm!reader and he constantly buys books for reader and always takes pictures of her whilst she reads and one day he like goes through her wish list and buys a bunch of books from it to surprise her
note: this is the dream, okay? okay
"Do you remember if I've bought this one before?", Lando asked Max as walked along the bookshop.
"You've bought her so many I can't remember - you posted a picture of her reading in the jpg account, maybe we can check in the shelf?", he suggested, getting his phone from his pocket and zooming in on the pictures.
"Well? Do you see it in there?", Lando asked as he tried to balance the books he was sure you didn't have yet, a little impatient because Max was taking so long.
"It's not easy to go through all the pictures! There are hundreds of them, just this week you posted what? Four pictures of her reading by the bookshelves alone, it takes time to analyse them!", Max defended himself.
"Look how pretty she is", Lando cooed as he looked at Max's phone, "whipped much?", Max teased him, "I don't care what you say, and I'm not seeing the book, so I'm getting it for her", Lando stated.
.
"Let me take a picture of you and your new book, baby", Lando cooed, kissing up your thighs as you lay on the sofa. He was resting his head on your thighs, one of your hands holding a book while the other played with his hair, all while he was fiddling with his camera and sending the latest photos to his phone so he could sort through them while you read the book that had arrived yesterday in the mail.
"I have no make-up on, Lando, and I'm barely dressed", you blushed, looking at his t-shirt you were wearing along with a lacy number for your panties, "I'll keep everything covered, I don't want anyone to see what's for my eyes only", he smirked, changing the camera settings and snapping a couple of photos of his favourite view.
"Is this Y/N's letter for Santa? It's still a bit early for that", Jon chuckled as Lando asked him to hold his phone with a notes app titled "Y/N's wishlist".
"It's her wishlist for books she wants to read, and I'm surprising her when she comes home today from her work trip!", Lando smiled, "I'll put them in the basket and you'll make them off, okay?", Lando checked before he began looking for the ones he knew by heart.
"You have two books that are the same here", Jon pointed out, "no, it's not", Lando said as his trainer quirked a brow, "it's not like that, that is; this is a special edition one with pretty pages, they have doodles on them and I know she won't buy it for herself so I'm going to", he smiled.
"You'd think someone dating you would ask for expensive jewelry or bags", Jon chuckled, knowing you weren't with Lando for the money, but he couldn't help but diss at some of the relationships he had seen at the paddock over the years.
"Y/N is not like everyone else - Oh, this one is out already? This is going to be an even bugger surprise then! C'mon, Jon, there are still about ten books left to find!", Lando urged him.
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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ineffable-romantics · 9 months
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Day four of being repeatedly gut-punched by Good Omens 2 realisations:
The break-up came out of absolutely fucking nowhere. Not for us, but for Aziraphale and Crowley. In hindsight, it's obvious to us how much wasn't being said, and how much needed to be said, and how much their personal philosophies were going to come back and bite them.
But for them? They'd spent four years together without the threat of Heaven or Hell looming over them. Yeah, Crowley was living in his car and seemed a little unsatisfied with how things were, but overall they were good.
And this whole season! Besides a little minor bickering about the car (and their less minor argument about Gabriel) they have been good! They were collaborating, and flirting, and dancing, and spending quality time together, and indulging each other, and plotting a romance, and just generally enjoying each other's company, and listening to each other's suggestions. They were being partners in every sense of the word. Any conflict that arose came from an external source, not between them. They never turned on each other, and actively kept each other in the loop as much as they were able.
And then they won! Yay! Brielzebub is in love! They beat the demons! Heaven was going to get off their backs! Nina and Maggie were in a good place! Etc. etc. All is right with the world! 6000 years and counting! Time for breakfast at the Ritz! Time to confess our love and move into the bookshop and live happily ever after!
And one single 10-minute conversation over an oat milk latte brought it all crashing down around them.
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funnyoldworld-isnt-it · 6 months
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There are so many posts about the weirdness around Nina and Maggie, but the thing that has always bothered me the most is that both of them know Aziraphale but neither one of them seems to know Crowley. Like, at ALL. Not even by sight. Which doesn’t make any sense. For the last four years, Crowley has basically been unemployed and homeless (this sentence made me so sad to type). He has had literally NOTHING to do except hang out at Aziraphale’s bookshop. And the vibe at the beginning of s2 is that he’s there a LOT. Like, multiple times per week (“we both get plenty of use out of it, don’t we”). When Aziraphale calls him in the first episode, he says “2 minutes” the way you tell your spouse how long until you’re home from the grocery store, especially if you were on your way home already.
The dialogue goes to great lengths to highlight that Nina and Maggie SHOULD know Crowley, which just heightens the weirdness of it. When they're at the pub, Crowley asks Aziraphale, “What’s wrong with the cafe?” (implying they usually go to the cafe), but Aziraphale made a point of introducing Crowley to Nina in the first episode. And Nina makes a point of saying to Maggie that she always remembers “the regulars," but she doesn't seem to remember Crowley. Of course, she immediately notices both Jim and Muriel outside the bookshop, so she's clearly paying attention to what's happening in the neighborhood and it seems like she couldn't have failed to spot him coming and going all the time.
And Maggie's situation is even weirder. Her whole back story is that she basically grew up IN the bookshop because her grandmother’s record store was essentially in a corner of the bookshop. And yet, when Maggie and Nina see Crowley on the street right before the lightning strike, Nina says, “Do you see that bloke? Six shots of espresso and he's smoking,” and Maggie responds, “I think that man was just struck by lightning.” Which is something you say about someone you’ve never laid eyes on before. She didn’t say, “Oh, that’s Mr. Fell’s friend,” or “I’ve seen him around. He stops by Mr. Fell’s shop a lot.” And then when he comes back, "It's him. The one who was just struck by lightning. The six shots of espresso." Again, no flash of recognition of anything before the current day. This happens immediately after she's just told Nina about knowing Aziraphale since she was little. It’s just weird. Why build a back story that would put her in extremely close proximity to Crowley LITERALLY her entire life and then write dialogue that makes it clear she's never laid eyes on him before?
You could maybe think, well they're just so used to having to hide...but then I asked myself: Does it make sense that the day that you find out there is an extremely dangerous, existence-threatening problem hiding out in your ineffable husband's bookshop is also the day that you would decide to STOP keeping a low profile and start wandering the streets with abandon, introducing yourself to all the local shopkeepers, and ferrying large plants into and out of said bookshop? No. No, it does not.
In any other show, you could assume that the writers just didn’t think about it very carefully. But, given the layers and layers of meaning and symbolism baked into every detail of this show, from the dialogue, to the costuming, the set design, lighting, blocking, etc., and the way that the story folds back on itself again and again, it just feels significant.
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wardenparker · 6 months
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Mother Knows Best
Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 17.5k Warnings: Food/alcohol, meddling mama, cursing, reader is an unapologetic nerd, flirting with books, BDSM mention (but no portrayal), vagina sex, protected sex (wrap it before you tap it), praise and a little dirty talk. Summary: Marcus Pike's mother has a tendency to overstep a little. While she means well, any time she has ever tried to set him up it has always turned out terribly. This time, though, she's pretty sure she has it right when she arranges for Marcus to go on a blind date with the youngest member of her book club. Notes: This all kind of sprang out of a TikTok I found about a bookshop date idea. And I'm not sorry about it in the least. Also, subtle shout out to my brother-in-law's band is buried in conversation 🎶
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"Marcus sweetie, what are you doing on Saturday?" Donna Pike is pulling weeds in her garden with her younger son in a lounge chair nearby, and she tries to make the question as nonchalant as possible. It's Sunday now and she might as well be asking what he wants for dinner. Although her idea of what he might be doing for dinner on the night in question is almost definitely different than whatever Marcus might have in mind. He has been back in Washington D.C. for almost four months and has spent the whole time sulking – something that no mother likes to see.
Marcus is probably more relaxed than he's been in a few months. Finally deciding that he is better off without Teresa since she would rather be with someone else more than him. His eyes half closed as he holds his beer, he answers without even thinking about it. Or why giving his mother an empty day without plans wasn't a good idea. "Nothing." He hums, smiling slightly at the thought of not having any work or responsibilities.
"Oh?" Donna smirks, glancing over her shoulder to see Marcus has his eyes shut as he sits in the sun. "No dinner plans? Drinks with coworkers?" She asks carefully, keeping her tone breezy as she weeds the tomato bed.
"Not a damn thing." He admits again, not seeing the smirk on his mother's face, otherwise alarm bells would be sounding in his head. Instead, he's plotting what he will do with his day off. Hopefully sleeping until ten is the first thing on the list. Then he might take a book out to the Mall lawn and read in the sun. Pick up one of those touristy drinks to sip on as he does.
"So..." Training one eye on him as she pulls another weed up from the root, Donna's lip curls into a smile. "You would be free for dinner, then?"
"You want me to take you to dinner?" Marcus's father passed nearly eight years ago and when he could, he would take his mother out to a nice dinner. Making sure that she felt special. "Sure."
"Not exactly what I had in mind, sweetie." Donna is all-out grinning at this point, and maybe even a little evilly. "Do you remember my telling you about a new girl joining our book club? She works with Marjorie Klein at the Library of Congress?" Every time Marjorie talked about her new colleague it seemed like the younger woman would be a perfect fit for their group, so six months ago they had offered up the empty spot at their table. Now, every time Donna Pike sees or hears from you, she seems to become more and more convinced that you would be perfect for her youngest child.
"Mom...no." Marcus shakes his head and immediately drowns the rest of his beer bottle and desperately wishes another would appear. "No, no, you aren't setting me up, again."
"But Marcus she's such a good match!" She won't say 'perfect' because that will make Marcus revolt and probably run away screaming. But she has such a good feeling about this one. "And I might have already scheduled the date with her..." Might is such an innocent lie. She definitely already scheduled the blind date with you after giving you a few background details on her baby boy.
“Mooooooooooom.” The sigh Marcus gives is one of extreme frustration. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but no. I can get my own dates.” The truth was, his mother had horrible taste in choosing women that she thought Marcus would be interested in.
"Oh yeah?" Donna tucks her proverbial tongue securely in her cheek. "Is that why you've been hanging around your old Ma's house so much the last few months? Because you're so good at getting your own dates?" She tilts her head at him and waves one hand, dismissing the tease immediately. "She's sweet, Marcus. And so smart. You don't have to marry the girl, but it's hard to get back out there sometimes. Just...give it a try?"
“It’s— I just got out of that thing with Teresa, Ma.” He reminds her and notices the expectant look on his mother’s face. She’s well meaning, really she is, but god does she meddle. “You already told her I would go out with her, didn’t you?”
“The thing with Teresa was months ago.” Donna’s grin spreads like wildfire. “She’s a nice girl and I called in a favor to get you a table at Founding Farmer’s because I know you like to keep the first date kind of casual.” Something she considers a mistake, but she knew that if she had gone and made a reservation somewhere more upscale then Marcus would squawk.
“Jesus Christ.” Marcus groans, slapping his hand over his face and imagining how boring and completely incompatible this woman is for his mother to talk about how nice and sweet she is. All the other girls she has tried to hook Marcus up with since he was a teenager have been a train wreck. “What time?” He sighs, resigned to his Saturday being ruined.
“Seven-thirty.” Crows his mother, who definitely made sure that the reservation was early enough in the night that they could do something else afterward. “I really think you’re going to like her, sweetie.”
He thinks he’ll be wasting an hour of his life but he grunts in response, already dreading Saturday.
******
You’re probably taking this far too seriously, all things considered. The book club of mostly middle-aged and older ladies that you had been offered a place in by one of your coworkers has been really nice. Everybody sits around and drinks and gossips about the book characters like they’re real people, and there is always good food. You like the ladies in the book club, you really do. But this whole idea of a blind date with Donna Pike’s son has you nervous for some reason.
Blind dates don’t typically go well for you but you’re honestly kind of desperate. It’s been nearly a year since your last date that even qualifies as mediocre and at this point you would say yes to just about anyone halfway decent. And with that in mind, you kiss your cat goodbye and smooth one hand down your floral sundress before slinging on your leather jacket to keep out the autumnal chill. If nothing else, maybe you’ll have a nice meal tonight.
Marcus sighs as he checks his reflection in the mirror one more time. He had opted to leave the suit at home, but couldn’t dress down completely casual. The restaurant that his mom had chosen would be nice enough that slacks, a polo and a sports coat wouldn’t look too out of place. Despite his reservations, he is wanting to make an effort. He sniffs his cologne to make sure he didn’t douse himself and picks up his keys. Off to see what a nightmare this would be, although he hopes that this girl won’t throw a glass of wine in his face when he reveals he’s a federal agent.
Founding Farmer’s is bustling when you arrive, packed to the gills and you wonder if the younger Pike brother thought to make reservations. For now you adjust the (admittedly cheesy) flower in your jacket lapel and slide over to the bar to order a cocktail. If he stands you up, you at least want to have a drink in hand to soothe the embarrassment.
There had been a fierce internal debate on if he should stop outside the little flower stand that was just a block down from the restaurant to buy some flowers. Romantic Marcus would do it, and even though he had not asked this girl out, she deserves the niceties that had been bred into him after watching his father continuously court his mother through their marriage. When he enters the door of the Founding Farmer's, he can see why he had to park two blocks away and is grateful that his mother had made reservations. "I— I have a reservation. Marcus Pike." He tells the frazzled hostess. "But I'm waiting for someone...." He cranes his neck to look around, not sure exactly who he is looking for. His mother had been very vague with the physical description, which doesn't help on a blind date.
You hear him before you see him — sitting just a few feet behind the hostess stand is strategic, and you hear him give his name. The most careful sneak of a peak nearly has your jaw on the ground and you sit straight up again immediately. He’s gorgeous. Absolutely drop-dead movie star level gorgeous. And he’s carrying flowers identical to the one tucked into your jacket, making you smile unexpectedly. “Marcus?” You turn slowly on your stool, hoping you’re not about to make an idiot of yourself.
He hears his name and looks around again, his eyes searching until they fall on a lovely looking woman wearing a pretty sundress and jacket. A flower in her lapel in a move that immediately makes him grin at the old-style charm of the gesture. He nods and says the name his mother gave him, finding himself hoping that you are that person.
“That’s me.” Sliding off of your stool with your glass in hand, you put out your other hand to him and smile. His mother absolutely failed to mention that her son is an absolute dreamboat. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I feel like I’ve heard a hundred stories about you and your brother already.”
You're pretty. Maybe it's shallow, or vain even, but Marcus had been worried when his mother had focused so hard on how nice and sweet you are. He's not the type of man who insults someone because of their looks, but physical attraction is a basic for any romantic relationship and some of the women who would be just ‘perfect’ for him in his mother's eyes didn't fit in any of the categories. Not even intellectually. He shakes your hand firmly and smiles. "It's all lies, I swear." He jokes, offering you the flowers. "I'm afraid that you have me at a disadvantage because I know your name and that you are sweet."
"The ladies in the book club sort of adopted me." The flowers are beautiful, and fresh, and you inhale the scent happily as the hostess leads you to a small, secluded table in the corner. "And I..." You laugh self-consciously, shrugging a little. "I just want you to know that I had nothing to do with this. It was all Donna's idea. So if we don't get along or something, it's no hard feelings."
"I have to apologize." Marcus shakes his head, enjoying the sounds of your light, nervous laugh. "My mother likes to meddle, so if you weren't actually interested, I will understand." He moves to pull out your chair for you when the hostess indicates the table and looks at you expectantly. It's your choice if you wish to sit down or not.
Maybe it's shallow – to take one look at him and know for sure that you're at least going to ride out this dinner to see what he's like. But then, isn't that what blind dates are, at least a little? Judging a book by its cover and then taking a peek to see what's inside? "I think it would be a shame to miss out on making a new friend, even if that's all this amounts to," you tell him as you sit down.
He can agree with that, admire it even. Smiling again and he wonders if that's all this will amount to. "What are you drinking?" He asks, nodding towards your glass that you had brought from the bar.
"It's called a Farmer's Daughter," you tell him, holding up the half-drunk glass of delicious fruity-boozy goodness. "Vodka, lime, passion fruit, raspberry...something else that I didn't know what it was so I can't remember what it's called. Domaine de something?" Shrugging shelf-consciously, you offer him the glass to try a sip. "It's fantastic."
It's charming the way you offer him a drink. He takes it and tries a small sip. "That's good." He agrees. "I was going to suggest a bottle of wine, but perhaps another of these?" He asks you.
The hostess nods and disappears after leaving your menus, and you sit back in your seat a little bit more comfortably than before. "This place has their own spirits. It seemed too good to pass up, and turns out that was the right choice." A small smile plays on your lips and you really don't know where it's coming from but you feel strangely confident tonight. "So you're usually a wine guy?"
“I am.” He nods, knowing that he would happily split a bottle with good conversation and laughs. “Are you more of a cocktail girl?”
"Usually." Again, you shrug, but offer him a smile. "But only because I know nothing about wine. I'd like to learn, if I found that I knew somebody who wouldn't mind teaching me."
“Well, if you like, we can have one more of those delicious cocktails and I’ll order a bottle of my favorite wine for you to try?” He offers. “Or perhaps just a glass to share, and if you don’t like it, we can explore what you do like?”
"That sounds like fun, actually." Normally when a guy offered to 'teach' you something it was just him insisting that he knew all the best of something or had every fact memorized. Marcus isn't like that and you relax just a little bit more with this discovery. A little bit of sharing and get to know you is perfect for a first date.
“Yeah?” He grins and nods, admiring your sense of adventure and that smile that you are giving him. “Okay, so the wine I like is kinda of dry, a red. That sound okay?”
"Sure." You agree brightly, basically up for trying whatever he suggests. "Like I said, I know nothing about wine. You could be ordering the stuff that comes in a box and I would just trust you that it's good."
He laughs, enjoying your honestly. “No boxed stuff, I promise.” He tells you and thanks the waiter when he comes back with your cocktail. “I’m sorry, but could we also have a glass of the Marqués de Riscal Rioja Reserva 2012?” He asks with a small shrug. “I couldn’t decide what I wanted, and now I do.”
Oblivious to the fact that that could have been an entendre, the waiter just nods and walks away, leaving the two of you alone at your cozy table again. "So..." you can't help the way your cheeks have gotten a little warmer in the last few seconds. "Is there anything you would like to know about me up front? You said your mother didn't tell you much."
“She did tell me that you work at the Library of Congress.” Marcus nudges the new drink towards you and takes the half finished one. He’s already drank after you, so it’s nothing to him. “So what do you do there?”
"I am a preservationist in the Children's Literature Center." Your work is delicate, and it is important, but some people find it unbelievable that your entire career is dedicated specifically to kids' books. "I'm part of the team that is digitizing rare children's books so that their contents will never be lost."
“Wow.” He’s impressed, knowing that is important work. Literature sound be preserved for the future generations to enjoy, much like art. “That’s— that’s gotta be pretty interesting day in and day out.”
“It’s no game of cops and robbers.” His mother had bragged about his promotions more than once, and you can’t help but smirk slightly when his ears turn red. “But I keep busy.”
“So you know that I’m a federal agent?” He asks, not sure what all his mother had rambled on about. Knowing her, she had told you about every girlfriend he had.
“Yes. Donna is extremely proud of you, so we all heard all about the last promotion.” Taking a sip of your drink, you feel just a touch of warmth is your cheeks that is all attraction and not from the cocktail at all. “Congratulations, by the way.”
“Thank you.” He bites his lip, caught between being embarrassed his mom was talking him up and enjoying the congratulations. The joy of his success has been sucked away by the Teresa thing, but he’s been trying to get back on track. “She’s just happy I’m close.”
“She’s very glad you’re home.” You can absolutely attest to that. It’s sweet, actually. They clearly get along well. “It sounds like if she could get your older brother to move back, she’d be in heaven having you both here.”
“Don’t think he’ll be moving to D.C. anytime soon.” Marcus admits. “But she’s happy to get out of the cold to go visit him during Christmas.”
“Louisiana always sounded like fun to be. Like a completely different world from anywhere else.” Probably that thought comes from having grown up in the thick of the Canadian border, but still. It seemed romantic to think about. “She said he’s in New Orleans?”
“Yeah.” He nods and grins. “He keeps telling me to come down for Mardi Gras.”
“Sounds like fun.” He has just one perfect dimple and you swear this is the first time you’ve understood why anyone would swoon. “Are you liking being back in DC, at least?”
“What’s not to love?” He asks, looking up again when the waiter returns with the glass of wine. “The museum, the Mall, the historic sites. I love walking through the Smithsonian.”
“I will absolutely drink to that,” you agree without hesitation. “This city is pretty much perfect as far as I’m concerned.”
He hums as he hands you the glass. “Try a sip of this, it’s dry but floral. I love this with a good cheese board.”
“A charcuterie guy, too? Nothing I love more than Adult Lunchables.” The grin on your face grows as you take the glass, giving it a sniff like you have any idea whatsoever what to look for, and take an adventurous sip. “Ooh that’s…I don’t know what I was expecting but that’s great. It’s like…it’s rich but it’s not heavy, if that makes sense?”
He nods and grins at you. “Now, imagine it with a funky cheese and a tart grape. Or a salty cracker.” He tells you, proud that you enjoy it. “Maybe a glass with dinner?”
“Absolutely.” It’s like a wake up for your senses, and even though you enjoy the sweet cocktail that you had ordered initially, the wine sounds like a decadent and very mature option for dinner. “Do you have any idea what you’ll order for food yet?”
“I figured I was going to order the braised short ribs with wilted summer greens and braised carrots.” He tells you, having looked at the menu before he ever arrived.
“Sounds pretty perfect.” When the waiter comes back you fill out your order, getting a basket of the kettle corn that the waiter gushes over to start with and ordering your dinners with another glass of wine so you can both indulge a little as you get to know each other.
“So, were you as nervous about tonight as I was?” The wine is being passed back and forth between you as your cocktail has been abandoned. He takes a sip and raises a brow at you in challenge.
"Terrified," you admit with a small laugh, but there is no point in trying to act smooth or more charming than you are. You're a slightly awkward person in general, and sometimes that can be charming all on its own. Or so you've been told. "I'm not...great at dating. Then the book club ladies took it upon themselves to figure out whose son was closest to my age and, well...here we are."
He laughs at the image you paint, all the ladies tossing out their eligible sons’ birthdays like trading cards. “Well, hopefully, you are enjoying yourself.” He offers with a grin, setting his elbows on the table and leaning in. The liquor and wine are loosening him up slightly, but it’s more that he’s enjoying conversing with you. Something he’s really missed about dating or being in a relationship with someone.
"I really am." His laugh is deep and rings in his chest, making his smile a little broader every time and making you wish that you had thought of something compelling or deeply interesting to tell him about yourself before setting foot in this restaurant tonight. But you had feared the worst, and expected the mediocre, so maybe that was the entire reason you found yourself enjoying this night? Simply by being handsome, intelligent, charming, and interesting, he was already blowing every single expectation you had out of the water. "Hopefully you are, too?"
“I am.” He gives you a small, self-conscious shrug. “My mother doesn’t have the best record when it comes to setting me up.” He admits. “The last one was a part of some antigovernment group and threw a glass of wine in my face when she found out I was, quote, a ‘fed pig’.” He tells you with the air quotes.
“That…” It takes a beat of extreme self-control not to laugh at how ridiculous that is, but you manage to keep yourself together. “Please say she didn’t know that this girl was anti-government when she set you up?”
“She had met her in her favorite bookstore.” He shakes his head and laughs. “Didn’t have a clue but she had to find another bookstore because it was the girl behind the counter.”
“But she tries to find you girls that read, huh?” That encourages you a bit. That Donna considers her son that intelligent. After all, he can’t be a slouch – not in art crimes. He has to at least have a little history and culture under his belt.
“I don’t want to always talk work, or politics.” He admits. “She had raised me to love reading and I’m forever grateful for that.”
“What do you like to read?” The question is automatic for you – something that you always ask new acquaintances and especially dates. It’s an important part of getting to know someone. “Personal curiosity as well as professional. I promise.”
“I can read anything.” Marcus tells you. “But, I spend so much time reading reports that I really enjoy fiction. Thrillers, intrigue. Even the odd romance novel.” He blushes when he admits that but he’s not going to lie.
“A good romance novel is entirely underrated. They’re great character studies. Plus?” You grin and pick up a piece of popcorn. There are only a few left in the basket and you’re enjoying the salty-sweetness with his dry wine. “Anyone who claims they don’t enjoy love stories is either lying or a bummer.”
“It’s like not liking classic movies.” He agrees with a grin. “I feel like some of the emotion has been lost. You give me Casablanca any day and I’ll show you a movie that is about loss as much as it is love.”
“I dumped a guy once for not liking classic movies,” you admit, albeit a little sheepishly. “He said that black and white was dumb because life is in color so ‘why weren’t all movies?’ And that all the stories were too trope-y. Can you believe that? Where did he think the tropes came from in the first place?”
“They are the model for the tropes.” He chuckles. “We had a class when I was in high school where you read classic literature and watched classic movies. I think it should be standard around the country. It helped shape my love of black and white movies.”
“I used to watch them with my mom whenever I was home sick.” Those memories are still so vivid for you, and precious. It had felt like a personal insult and not just a preference when the previous guy had talked down about classic cinema. “She got to see Katharine Hepburn in Coco in New York City when she was little and just worshipped her ever since. So, of course, I did too. And we would just watch everything we could get our hands on.”
“Oh wow.” Marcus is impressed and he shows it. “It would have been something, I’m sure.” He agrees. “I’m not all classical though. I like a good mix of modern as well. My old band used to play in Texas and I would go see them.”
“That’s right.” Donna had told you all about his band, of course, but it had slipped your mind while you got distracted over how attractive Marcus is. “Bass player, right?”
“Yeah.” He huffs out a small laugh, wondering if his mother had complained that he hadn’t wanted to cut his hair when he was playing, or if she was bragging. “And some vocals. Mainly backup.”
“Don’t downplay it.” You grin, watching his cheeks turn pink yet again. “I can’t carry a tune in a bucket. And getting on stage? I think I’d panic. That’s something you can be really proud of.”
“It’s not that bad.” Marcus tells you. “Just pick the prettiest girl and imagine them – uh –” he falters for a second. “Kissing you.” He supplies.
“Is that how you get past stage fright?” You have definitely never heard of that particular tactic before and you nearly giggle with how embarrassed Marcus looks admitting it. “Seems like we ought to get you back on stage then, shouldn’t we? That’s a very nice fantasy to let yourself play out.”
“Nahhh it’s been a long time since I’ve been on a stage.” He admits. “I like to just drink a beer and dance with the pretty girl.”
“Oh yeah?” The impulse to insinuate yourself into that situation is deep but you just smile, knowing very well that your cheeks and ears are burning with the thought. “Sounds…pretty perfect.”
“Yeah?” He grins and there’s a partial idea forming for later tonight if the rest of dinner goes like it is now. “Does it sound good to you?” He asks. “What’s your ideal date?”
“I—” Clearing your throat slightly, your skin burns even more. “Dinner and dancing, probably? Or going to see a screening of an old movie together.” Taking a sip of the wine before you hand it back to him, you brace yourself for the tingle you’ve been getting whenever your fingers brush. “I saw a TikTok the other day of a bookstore date, too. That looked fun.”
“A bookstore date?” He’s intrigued on that what that would entail. He leans in and snags the wine glass to take another sip. He should really order another glass so you each have your own, but there is something oddly fun about sharing. “Tell me about that.”
“It’s silly.” But somehow, you think he might like silly. “There’s this list of prompts. And you roll a die to see which prompt you get and you’re supposed to go all over the bookstore looking for a book to read that fits the prompts. It’s…to a librarian it sounds fantastic…choosing books for each other and having an automatic something to talk about on the next date, ya know?”
“That sounds like a great date.” Marcus agrees, liking the adventurousness of it. “A really good date. Maybe even you have to call the other person to read them a portion of the book that appeals to you.”
“I haven’t had anybody read to me in ages…” You can feel how soft you get in response to the idea but you just can’t seem to care. Every few minutes Marcus Pike seems to get more and more perfect. “That sounds absolutely dreamy.”
“You haven’t?” He’s surprised at that, and then there’s a little fantasy that plays out in his head. Calling you every night that he could and reading a few paragraphs to you while you are snuggled in your bed. “Maybe that will change.” He hums.
"I think I'd like that." The way he says it makes you feel so hopeful, like maybe this night is going as well for him as it is for you, and you bite your lip to hold back a full-force grin. "I think I'd like that a whole lot."
Marcus actually hates when the waiter comes back to order the meals, allowing you to order first and he puts in his order for his own meal and asks for another glass of wine. “Do you want one, or do you want to keep sharing?”
"I'm not going to lie, I kind of like the sharing," you admit with an embarrassed grin. This waiter just smiles politely and steps away, having seen plenty of good and bad dates over his career and not really thinking anything of the request.
“I like it too.” He admits with a matching grin. “Although if we order dessert, we’ll need to change to different wine.” He tells you.
"Ah, so my education continues?" He wouldn't have brought it up if he wasn't thinking about it in the back of his mind, and that makes your smile grow. "I know I've seen Dessert wines listed on menus before but other than knowing they exist, I don't think I could name anything else about them."
“They are sweeter, crisper.” He tells you. “Meant to enhance the flavor of the desserts. We will have to see if we have room.” He grins. “My sides are meant to be shared.”
“Maybe we’ll have to come back?” You venture, hopeful at the idea that tonight is going well enough to lead to a second date.
“It is a very good wine list.” He tells you with a grin. “Although there’s this little place down near the Potomac that is a wine bar paired with your – what did you call it? Adult Lunchables?” He tilts his head. “I think you might like that.”
The fact that he picks up on the thread immediately makes you flush warm again and grin so broadly that your cheeks ache. “It sounds perfect,” you admit. “Although I think Donna might float just a little if she finds out we’re planning date number two before the entree is even served on date number one.”
“We don’t have to tell her.” His own grin turns slightly mischievous. “Let her dangle for a bit before we let her know about that. It’ll drive her crazy.”
"You know I'm going to get just as many voicemails as you, right?" The devilish smile highlights his dimple far too perfectly and just about has you swooning, but you manage to keep it down to just a girlish giggle. "Are you going to be a bad influence on me, Marcus?"
“Depends on what you think is bad.” Marcus quips, winking at you as he leans back. You are charming, funny, sweet. All things that his mother had noted but he’s also attracted to you. And thoroughly enjoying this date.
Confidence looks very fucking sexy on him, and you end up leaning forward instinctively when he leans back, like he's pulling a string somewhere inside your ribcage when he goes. "Maybe I like bad. And I'm just making sure I'm going to enjoy myself?"
There’s a split second where Marcus has a choice on if he’s going to make a dirty innuendo, just like you have. “Oh, I guarantee you’ll enjoy yourself.” He promises, that grin turning slightly salacious. “Multiple times.”
He knows full fucking well what he’s doing, and the poorly timed sip of wine you have just taken nearly comes out your nose when you quickly cover your mouth with one hand to keep from spitting it everywhere or even choking on it. “Guarantee, huh?” When you can breathe again and don’t have wine in your mouth anymore, you manage to raise one steady eyebrow at him. “You’re a very confident man, Agent Pike.”
“It’s a money back kind of thing.” He teases, enjoying the easy banter and the fact that you are leaning into the atmosphere rather than getting offended by it.
“Oh, I see.” You tease right back, loving the freedom in the atmosphere between you. “So I’m investing in my future enjoyment?”
“Exactly.” He hums, nodding in an exaggerated manner. “You understand perfectly.”
******
“I don’t think I can do it,” you groan playfully, looking over the empty plates of the amazing dinner you just shared and knowing that dessert would have disastrous consequences. “I think I might pop like a balloon.”
“It was a lot of food.” Marcus admits, his own stomach edging just on the cusp of being overly full. “Plus the wine. So I don’t think I can make room either.” He sighs and leans back to rub his belly just to tease.
“It’s a good thing it’s a beautiful night for a walk.” The thought had been brewing for a while, and you offer Marcus a hopeful smile. “Only if you’re up for it, of course.”
“Absolutely.” The check is discreetly placed by his elbow and he shakes his head when you move to your purse. “This is my treat.” He insists, pulling out his wallet and putting his credit card down without glancing at the bill.
“Then next time will be mine,” you insist, having a feeling that Marcus is not at all the kind of guy to let that fly, but at the same time you have to wonder when the last time was that he allowed anyone to take care of him.
He hums, not agreeing or disagreeing. “So, where would you like to walk?” He asks. “There’s a lot of little shops and bars nearby.”
Pennsylvania Avenue is certainly lively, and since you had taken the Metro you don’t particularly care what direction you head in. “We could always head toward the Mall and let ourselves get distracted along the way?” You suggest, wanting to leave the night wide open for anything or everything.
“That sounds good to me.” Marcus brought his car, but the neighborhood is relatively safe and the parking isn’t by the hours. “Do you have comfortable enough shoes on?” He hadn’t noticed your footwear, but he wants to check.
“I’m not really a heels kind of girl,” you admit, hoping that that won’t break some kind of weird unconscious rule he has in his head. You’ve been told before that you should dress more femininely but the idea that high heels are the only feminine footwear seems utterly ridiculous. “And I’m always up for a walk.”
“That’s good.” He chuckles and when both of you stand from the table he kicks out a foot and shows his comfortable loafers. “I have to wear dress shoes at work, but I’m never going to bash comfortable footwear.”
“I learned a long time ago that knee-high boots go with almost any dress or skirt.” You take his arm when he offers it – very gentlemanly – and before you know it you’re out in the crisp night air. The moon is high and the streetlamps are bright, and you sigh a little contentment. Tonight is so, so much better than you thought it was going to be.
“That sigh is either a very good sign or a bad one.” He teases, looking over at you with a playful grin. “Can I ask which?”
“It’s good, I promise.” And as if to prove you, you send him a beaming smile. “I was just thinking how nice the night is, that’s all.”
“It is a nice night.” Marcus agrees. The air has just a bite to it without being bitter and yet it is still cozy. The dark night is illuminated by the streetlamps and the noise from bars and shops spills out onto the sidewalk in muted tones. “It seems magical, doesn’t it?”
“It does.” You agree with a grin, but for you, that magic is pouring off him – not the street around you.
******
“Hey look.” It’s a building that he hasn’t really noticed before but maybe it’s because he hadn’t been looking for it before. “Do you want to stop?”
“Sure.” You’d agree to almost anything right now and you shrug. “What is it?”
“Well, the name is Tomes and Tannins, so I’m thinking it might be one of those trendy wine shop slash bookstores?” He grins at you. “Why don’t we find out?”
“That is a level of fancy I never thought I would reach,” you admit with a grin and let him lead you inside. It’s deceptively mood-lit inside but with enough supplemental lights that you can read everything you need to, and there are cafe tables with chairs smattered around some mismatched armchairs and ever sofas with drink tables at either end. It’s cozy and welcoming, and obviously meant for you to stay a while.
“Hmmm this looks promising, right?” He asks, looking to see if you approve. “Interesting place.”
“Books and wine? Sounds amazing and looks even better.” A beaming smile of affirmation is all for him and you nudge him toward the stacks. “Where do you want to start?”
“Well…” he smirks slightly. “Show me that date idea that you liked? Picking out books for the other to read?”
“Oh!” Somehow you had already forgotten, and grin guiltily as you pull up the list of twenty prompts on your phone. “You’re supposed to roll a die to find out what numbers you get. Roll a die, find a book for each of us that fits the prompt, and just keep going until we decide we have our arms full.” Digging into your purse, you come out with a d20 from when you play Dungeons and Dragons with your friends and hold it up. “Do you want to go first?”
“Ladies first.” Marcus grins and motions towards a bookshelf. “Roll there and we will see what we come up with.”
Normally a high roll would be a great thing to get, but as you stare at the 17 that pops up on the die, you skim down the list on your phone and feel yourself smirk. “Number seventeen. A book that inspired a tv show or movie.”
“Now is this for me to find for you?” Marcus asks seriously. “Or is this your criteria for my book?”
“I think we’re both supposed to pick a book for each other that fits the category.” The video hadn’t exactly been clear, but that is how you interpreted it. And it sounded like the most fun way to do it anyway.
“Okay. So we each find the other a book that inspired a tv show or movie.” He agrees. “I say I roll and then we separate. We don’t show the other the book until we are done picking them out.”
“Alright.” You hold up the d20 to offer it to him. “Roll away, G-man.”
Marcus plucks the die from your fingers and puts it in his palm to close his fist around him. Grinning as he blows on it playfully like he’s rolling dice in a casino. “Here we go.” He tells you before tossing it down.
It's playful and sweet, and you giggle softly when the die hits the shelf and comes up with the number 5. You consult your list, tilting your head with a grin when you read what category he ended up with. "Number five. A book with an overly long title."
He hums and nods. “Why don’t we add a little bit of a challenge?” He asks. You tilt your head curiously, obviously interested. “We have ten minutes per book, so twenty minutes total. When the twenty minutes is up, we meet at the tables to have a glass of wine and exchange books.”
"Deal." The element of a game makes you smile even more broadly, and you hold up your finger before he can jet away from you. "One more thing?" You ask and wait until he nods. "I want to know your least favourite book of all time. Just so I don't grab it by accident."
“Honestly?” He gives you a guilty grin. “I hate the Lord of the Flies.” He admits with a small shrug. “Hated when it was required reading.”
"You are in no way the first person I've ever met who hated that book," you promise him, smothering a little laugh in the process. "I did not like Gone With the Wind. Couldn't even force myself to be empathetic with any of the characters, which is a shame. The plot is interesting."
“The movie is better, at least it’s watchable.” Marcus admits. “I always hated the scene after the little girl died.”
"Alright." Pulling out your phone, you set a timer for twenty minutes and watch him follow suit with that mischievous smile painted back in place. "Ten minutes for each book, and then we meet right back here for wine and to trade titles."
“Good luck.” With a wink, Marcus whirls around and rushes off, already having a title or three in mind.
It becomes a sort of secondary game – any time you run into each other in the maze of shelves you immediately guard the books you are carrying with your entire bodies and back away or even sprint away from each other so that the surprises won't be spoiled. It has the two of you giggling like idiots and has definitely attracted the attention of some of the other patrons, but no one seems to really mind. Who could possibly mind people having fun in a bookstore?
When he finds what he wants, Marcus barely resists hiding it under his jacket as he rushes up to the counter to make his purchase. Wondering if you will call him out or be disappointed. So he has a backup plan in case. Taking his bag and looking around the bookstore as he walks towards the table you agreed to meet him at.
You use an entire eighteen minutes debating whether or not it's cheating to just grab two of your favourite books to see if he'll like them before you finally just do it. They do fit the categories and he did say that he likes romances so one of them is only sort of a stretch. Grabbing the two novels, you head to the register and then back to the table, only to see him already sitting there. "You were speedy," you observe, raising one eyebrow as you sit down across from him at the table.
“I know what I want.” Marcus tells you, biting back the grin that he wants to display and feeling giddy for his reveal. He motions towards the board that displays what wines they have available. “Do you want to get a glass before we exchange?”
"Sure." He's being cheeky and it's sexy as hell, so you nod and bite back a grin. "You're the wine guru, so I'll try whatever you say is good."
“I think something sweet.” He decides. “A nice Shiraz for us to share?” He asks, wanting to know if you want your own glass or to share again.
"A shiraz to share sounds perfect." Not that you know what the hell shiraz is besides the obvious conclusion that it's wine, but the sharing part is what sounds best to you.
“Okay.” He nods and shoots you a wary look. “No peeking while I order.” He orders playfully, pointing at you. “I’ll be watching.”
He steps up to the counter and you dutifully put your hands on top of the brown paper bag stamped with the shop's logo that you paid for, not peaking in the bag he bought despite desperately wanting to. He comes back in less than three minutes but you're already near squirming in your seat because the suspense is killing you.
“Okay. This is a glass of Layer Cake.” He tells you. “Sounds good, but it’s honestly a first for me too.” He was feeling adventurous and wanted a new experience with you. He’s had shiraz, but he wanted to try this at the same time you did.
"So it's a new adventure for both of us, then." That somehow makes it feel romantic and not just sweet, but it would be silly to say so. "You take the first sip, I insist."
He chuckles. “So I can make sure it’s not poisoned?” He teases. “As you wish, my princess.”
The 'princess' bit makes your cheeks burn, but you don't want to admit that you want to know whether or not he likes it first. There's something about trying wines that makes you nervous and you don't want to accidentally end up loving something that he thinks is subpar. Maybe that's trying wines that is intimidating you, or maybe it's just that you like him. You can't tell, honestly.
Picking up the glass, he sniffs and hums before taking a sip. “Oh this is good.” He groans. “That would be good anytime you wanted wine.”
"Well now I'm excited." He hands the glass over to you and you take a sip, immediately sighing. "Oh, that's fantastic. That would have made me a wine person ages ago."
“I’m selfishly glad that you are exploring it with me.” He admits, admiring how you savor the wine and take another small sip.
"Feel free to be selfish, then, because this is fantastic." Handing the glass back to him, you waggle your bag in his direction with excitement. "Number seventeen or number five first?"
“You want to go first?” He asks, not caring at all. “Sure. Why don’t you surprise me?”
"Your librarian date is excited about books. This should be no surprise." Laughing as you reach into the bag, the book on top is what you decide to go with and you pull out an old faithful favourite. "Number five. A book with an overly long title." You tell him, presenting him with a copy of Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe by Fannie Flagg.
Marcus bites his lip and takes the book. “Okay.” He nods. “That is a long title.” He’s a little worried that you won’t like what he had chosen now.
"You look nervous." He does take the book, though, not reject it. "Have you read it before? It's okay if you have...or if you didn't like it." You're not one of those people who believes that a couple has to like all the same things, after all.
“No, no, I haven’t read this one.” He promises. “I can’t wait to see what it’s about. Especially since you seem to love it.”
"I do." It would be kind of useless to claim otherwise, and you sit back in your chair to accept the glass of wine from him. "What did you find for number five?"
“So…” he flashes you a small grin. “I kind of…cheated.” He admits. “I chose a book that is both five and seventeen.” He admits. “But now, so have you so I’m completely thinking that I fucked up. But I’ve got a corny ass back up.” He rushes out to assure you.
"You say cheating, I say creativity." You do bite your lip though, before admitting, "I actually have two of my favourite books that worked for what we rolled...so this is kind of just my excuse to show them to you. Which is also cheating. Just a little."
At least you aren’t mad. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a beautiful hardback book. “My book for you is this. The Princess Bride: S. Morgenstern's Classic Tale of True Love and High Adventure.” He slides the book in front of you.
It probably isn't the reaction he expects to have you almost tear up at the table, but you gently place your hands on the book and draw it closer to you like it is something delicate and precious – which, to you, it is. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that I mentioned wanting to be read to, does it?" You ask him with a grin. "Marcus it's perfect. And believe it or not...despite this being one of my favourite movies? I've never read the book."
“You haven’t?” His jaw drops and he shakes his head. “I don’t know which I like better, the movie or the book.” He admits. “I have my own copy at home.”
"I've read Cary Elwes' book, but somehow not the novel." The way he lights up at having made a good choice for you might be the most adorable thing you've ever seen. "I guess that's finally about to change."
“I did get another book but I decided it was a bit much after.” He admits, slightly flustered that he bought that book. But it has been made into a movie.
“What was the other one?” His ears have turned red and now you have to know, even nudging the wine glass back toward him in case he needs a little courage.
He blows out a breath and pulls out the other book from the bag. “Okay, but don’t judge me.” He begs, revealing the front of Fifty Shades of Grey.
“Why Marcus, is this a hint?” He has turned an even deeper shade of red and you can’t resist another giggle before batting your eyelashes at him.
“I— no, I don’t mean— it’s just that—” he sputters and chokes on his words before he heaves a sigh and drops his chin to his chest. “Fuck. I knew I should have just found something else.”
“You only should have grabbed something else if you didn’t mean to flirt with me,” you tell him honestly and pull your own book that inspired a tv show or movie out of your paper bag to hand him. The Duke & I by Julia Quinn now has images from the Bridgerton tv show splashed all over the cover, making it unmistakable. “You said you like romance novels sometimes,” you defend, shrugging your shoulders.
“I’ve not read this.” He admits, reaching for the book to read the inside cover. “It sounds interesting. This is a show right?”
“Bridgerton.” You nod, wondering what - if anything - he’s heard about it. “Most people call it something like… ‘horny Jane Austen’.”
He snorts and chuckles to himself as he continues to read it. “Then I see why it appeals.” He jokes. “Nothing like love and sex.”
“Technically isn’t that what this is, too?” You ask, waggling the copy of 50 Shades at him. “Just… kinkier.” It’s an honest question, really. Since you’ve never read it.
“It’s – not bad but you can tell that whoever wrote this is just guessing at what they think BDSM is about.” Marcus tells you.
"So...do that mean you do know what BDSM is about?" It's an intriguing thought, to imagine this otherwise very clean-cut looking guy being into anything kinky, and you can't say you hate it. Not at all.
"I—" He never should have opened his mouth. He never should have opened his goddamn mouth. If it was possible to get any hotter, Marcus swears his face would just burst into flames. This isn't something that his mother would know because there is zero chance in hell he would ever tell her. "I was undercover." He explains. "The people I was— associating with, they were into that kind of scene." He bites his lip. "I had to do a lot of research on it, but I've never actually, you know, uh, practiced it." He assures you.
"Please don't think I'm judging," you reach over the table quickly to give his hand a squeeze and shake your head vehemently. "Honestly, if anything? I find it very...interesting. But have never practiced any of it, either."
"I just don't want you thinking that I'm—" He shrugs slightly. "I don't know what I'm trying to say. Normally I'm more confident than this, but not this time." He chuckles quietly.
"You don't want me to think you're kinky?" You ask, tilting your head slightly. "It's not a bad thing to be. But...I'm sorry if I did anything to shake that confidence." With a half-smirk, you shrug one shoulder in admission. "I promise you'd be extremely confident if you could hear the monologue in my head tonight."
"You didn't do anything, I promise." Marcus reaches out after you had pulled back and takes your hand again. "My last...relationship. She's the one that kind of screwed with my head." He confesses quietly. "But I want to know about this internal monologue of yours."
"The coworker." Of course his mother had told you about his ex-fiancée. She hadn't wanted you to feel like she was throwing you into an unknown situation. "From what your mom said...she sounds like she was a little...dishonest? And that's bullshit. I'm sorry you had to deal with that."
"It's done." There's nothing he can do to change it, and he's not sure that he would want to now that he's looking back on the situation. "But I'm hoping that I can get that confidence back."
"Well, if you hadn't said anything, I never would have known that this is the less confident version of you." His hand dwarfs yours, the warmth of it completely welcoming and overtaking all your senses. And it's so, so welcome.
"Is the book, alright?" He asks. "You can just read the first one if you want."
"Oh, no." The grin you aim his way is mischievous. "I'm definitely going to read both. Who knows? I might learn something."
"Have you seen the movies?" He asks curiously.
"No..." You can feel your cheeks heat up all over again. "It always seemed...I don't know, maybe I'm just really vanilla, but they always seemed so close to porn to me?" Not that that is a bad thing. And not that you don't watch your share of porn. Just usually not of the BDSM variety.
"It was actually pretty tastefully done." Marcus admits. "I've seen them. My ex wanted to see them, so..." He shrugs. "You go see them."
"See? You're already a font of information compared to me." His hand is still covering yours and you shiver a little at the innuendo of it all. Of how warm and tempting he is. "I guess I'll have to catch up. Educate myself."
It’s on the tip of his tongue to tell you that you can watch the movies together, but that might be too forward. Instead, he grins. “Sounds like you have a research plan.”
"Apparently so." Under the table, the toe of your shoe finds the back of his leg completely by accident as you shift in your seat, and you grin guiltily. "I was about to apologize for that," you admit, knowing that it must have seemed like you were trying to play footsies or something under the table. "But honestly? I'm not sorry."
“Really?” His brow lifts and he shoots you a grin. “You like playing footsie?” He asks, his own foot reaching out and tapping yours gently.
"I think it's kind of cute, honestly." The innocent shrug is accompanied by a bright, smitten smile, and you nudge Marcus's foot back playfully.
“Best part of cuddling is sliding your foot along the leg of your cuddle buddy.” He tells you. “Or letting your hands wander.”
"Mmm...it's hands." And he has such huge hands...the possibilities are endless. "It's definitely hands."
“You’re a touch kind of girl?” He asks, intrigued by the idea and he wonders if your love language is physical touch. He’s noticed that you’ve reached out several times when reassuring him.
"Touch is a powerful thing." You reason, not making a single move to take your hand out of his. "It can be intense or gentle, reassuring or electrifying. It can be almost anything."
“Electrifyingly reassuring.” Marcus quips, squeezing your hand gently. He picks up the wine with his free hand and takes a sip.
"Like it's exciting but at the same time...feels kind of...right?" Which is exactly how you feel about him, and you're kind of going out on a limb admitting it but you don't think he's gearing up to reject you.
It does, he looks down at your joined hands and smiles. "I think so." He hands you the wine and hums. "Now, we have a couple of options for the rest of the night, if you're up for it." He grins. "We can continue to walk and talk. Or...." He shrugs. "I have my car back at the restaurant and I can drive you back to my place and we can have a cheese board and read to each other?"
He knows what he’s offering — not even in a salacious way — and that a night of reading books is like catnip to a librarian. You can’t help but get excited for it. Even the most boring night in the world would be improved by this, but tonight? With how it’s going? It sounds practically like foreplay. “What are we waiting for?” You ask, grinning, and take the last sip of wine from the glass. “We both have brand new books to read and my guess is that you definitetly have a couch big enough for two. I’d say that decision is easy.”
"Yeah?" He had expected you to say no. It's the first date after all. Beaming at you, he motions towards the wine. "Do you want to get a bottle of this to take with us?" He asks. "It would go good with any of the adult Lunchable things we can get."
“You’re going to keep teasing me about it, but I stand by that description.” You do nod though, having thoroughly enjoyed this particular glass of wine even more than what he had ordered at dinner.
He chuckles. "It's a good one." He admits. "I've never looked at it that way, but now I can see why you say that. I used to beg my mom to buy Lunchables."
“And now you love charcuterie. Which is the very same thing in a much neater package.” It’s silly, but you’ve always liked silly. It can really open a person up.
He squeezes your hand. "You finish that glass and I will see about getting us a bottle to take home." He tells you, letting go to stand up and quickly walk back to the counter. Feeling incredible about this date and almost hating that he had ever been dreading it.
Two sips and a purchased bottle later, the two of you are out the door of the little shop and heading back in the direction of the restaurant to retrieve Marcus’s car. The night is clear and crisp now and even though the city lights glow brighter than the stars you can sweat you feel the distinct light of the moon before anything else.
“How did you come to dinner?” He asks as he guides you towards his car. “If you feel more comfortable following me, I can give you the address.” He huffs. “Although I should probably do that anyway so you can send it to a girlfriend.”
“I have to admit, it’s comforting to have a guy even acknowledge that kind of thing.” Especially that he’s a federal agent, and doesn’t seem to feel entitled to your obedience or safety based purely on that fact. Instead he dutifully gives you his address after you tell him that you took public transportation to get here, and you send it off to your best friend.
“I understand.” He admits. “The number of people who disregard others safety or their own drives me insane sometimes. At the end of the day if someone gets offended for wanting to feel secure, they don’t have good intentions.” Marcus tells you. “Plus, my mother would kick my ass.”
“She definitely would.” You can agree to that, and thank him quietly when Marcus opens the passenger door for you to get into his car. The address he had given you was in Georgetown so you had a short but nice drive ahead.
“So what kind of music do you like?” He asks as he starts the car and looks behind him to back out of the spot. “Feel free to change it to whatever you like.”
“I would never change Pearl Jam.” Is the very serious reply he gets from you, as the alternative rock station he has programmed on his satellite radio is currently playing ‘Even Flow’. “There was a band that played in my college town that did all 90s rock covers and they were the absolute best shows to go to.”
“That had to be awesome.” Marcus hums. “I was too busy playing to really see a lot of shows and I regret it. But I loved being in the band.”
“Well then I guess we’ll have to find some live music to go see.” There seems like plenty of common ground that you can pick up on together and that is a very good sign if nothing else. “If the sound of a 90s influenced jam band doesn’t make you want to run for the hills, The Southern Ocean is playing at The Runaway this weekend.”
“I’ve never heard of them.” Marcus admits sheepishly. He’s been focused on work and not really out on the social scene the past few months. “Are they good?”
“I mean, I think so.” It’s not exactly surprising that the name is unknown to him and you glance over at him while he drives. “Their bassist is a friend, so I try to support whenever I can.”
“Then that’s definitely something I would want to check out.” Marcus nods. “It’s always good when you see friends play.”
“Would you want to come with me?” It’s only slightly presumptuous to plan out a second date when you’re still in the middle of the first one, but you like Marcus. You like him. He’s smart and handsome as hell and sweet, and even balances flirtation and respect on the perfect level. Honestly, you can’t imagine what kind of an idiot his exes were to let him get away.
“If you’re offering.” He smiles. “Who the hell ever resists an invitation from a pretty girl to go see a band?” He shakes his head. “I might be dumb, but I’m no fool.”
“You’re not dumb. Or a fool.” That’s exactly the kind of thing you don’t put up with from guys you date and you were glad to be able to rule it out very early with Marcus. You exchange a small smile at the next light when he pulls up to it and for the rest of the ride you sing along with the music and just enjoy yourselves.
When he pulls up to his house, Marcus is sort of panicking. Wondering if he had picked up this morning after he had dropped his clothes on the floor from his run. The last thing he wanted was for you to think that he was a slob.
“Home sweet home?” You guess, looking up at the picturesque blue house with its literal white picket fence. It even has a gate out front that someone lovingly painted flowers on in lieu of adding a name.
“Yeah.” He chuckles and gives a small shrug. “It was a hell of a deal when I stumbled on it and I jumped.”
“It’s beautiful.” The lawn is dotted with wildflowers from what you can see in the dark, and suddenly the mental image of stargazing with him on a blanket is impossible to shake.
“Thank you. Luckily, I pay a wonderful company to keep the yard looking nice because I don’t have time to do it.” He admits with a small laugh.
“They do a much better job than the landlord at my duplex,” you offer him a smile before he slides out of the car and goes around to your door to let you out. The front door is a mere six steps away and Marcus’s house is even sweeter and more inviting once that door is open. It’s like somebody built the set of a Hallmark movie in real life just for this handsome FBI agent.
“So, this is home.” He knows that it’s decorated more than the standard bachelor pad and he’s okay with that. He’s not the type of man to just have a chair and a tv in the living room. “Make yourself comfortable, I can put your coat in the closet if you want?”
“Thanks.” It’s the most intimate contact you’ve had tonight besides holding hands, and you swear you can feel your skin tingle when he slides your jacket off your shoulders for you before hanging it beside his in the closet. The little shiver that runs through you is a private thrill and you know you probably look dreamy as hell as you follow him past the living room to the kitchen.
“How about you arrange the cheese board while I open and pour the wine?” He asks as he opens the refrigerator to pull out the sliced cheeses and meats he keeps there because he likes them.
It sounds wonderfully domestic, and you agree to it easily as he pulls out a small board and sets it down on the counter. Packages of Gruyère, havarti, and something marked Seriously Sharp cheddar all fill out the board and you do your valiant best at attempting to fold and rolls the slices of cured meats into petite little roses for the two of you to enjoy demolishing together. Some fresh grapes and cherry preserves join the tray, and Marcus produces a half of a baguette seemingly out of nowhere once the wine is poured. It’s all deceptively easy, the way you seem to work with and around each other, and by the time you make it back out to the living room you know you’re just completely gone for this man. His little smiles, deep laugh, and soft demeanor have you utterly relaxed and so, so smitten.
“Do you want to put on some music?” Marcus asks. “Maybe we can just relax. Lean back and read to each other?” He’s leaning into the idea that you would like this and he wants to make sure that you enjoy yourself.
“What do you want to read first?” It sounds like possibly the most romantic idea in the world – just sitting and reading to each other in comfort with an indulgent (and savory) dessert. If the thought of curling up with him and finding out what it feels like to be close to him is anything, it is fairly close to perfection.
“Ladies choice.” He hums quietly, moving over to the record player he has sitting next to the collection of vinyl’s. It’s not to look snooty, he’s been obsessed with them since his mother played them while cleaning, claiming it sounded better. For classical music, it does. It brings back a sense of nostalgia, sets a mood.
“Rachmaninov?” The melody sounds familiar, like something out of a dream, when it starts up and the name seems to drudge itself out of the depths of your memory. “That’s got fantasy and romance written all over it.”
He hadn’t chosen the music with that in mind, but he smiles. “Too much?” He asks, even though he doesn’t feel like you will think that.
“Not at all.” In fact, just the opposite. It feels just right. “But it feels like The Duke & I or Princess Bride for sure.”
“Okay.” He smiles as he moves over to the couch and toes off his loafers to reveal the dress socks he had been wearing underneath. “You can get comfortable.” He promises, taking off his sports jacket and removing his tie.
Getting Comfortable on a date for you would usually lead to sexier things than snacks and reading — but then, is there anything sexier than reading in the first place? For a librarian that seems impossible. So instead, you follow suit and toe off your boots to curl up in the couch beside him.
It seems almost natural to have you curl into the crook of his body and Marcus opens his arms slightly. “How about I read to you to start?” He asks softly.
For most people this might be a recipe for falling asleep, but tonight the sound of his voice is vibrating through the thin fabric of your dress as you lean against him. The lingering scene of his cologne mixed with the wine and new book smell in a way more intoxicating than alcohol ever could be. “You’re dangerously comfortable,” you warn him, drawn right against him like a magnet.
"I don't mind being called that." He laughs quietly, trying not to jostle you too badly as you snuggle against him and he settles into opening the new book. Hearing the spine creak open slightly and he wonders if you are like him and prefer hardback over paperback books. At least for gifts.
“All we need is a fire in the fireplace and we’re just about as picturesque as I can imagine.” It’s dangerous to turn your head to smile at him from this angle because it brings you within about two inches of his perfectly tantalizing lips, but you remind yourself to behave. This is just the first date. No need to rush.
“Not quite cold enough yet.” He can’t help but look down at your lips, imagining kissing you in front of a cozy fire after a night in. Or maybe coming home to relax after a night out.
“Soon.” The moment is so soft, and you watch his eyes drift down to your lips the same way yours did to his a second ago with a warm buzzing in your chest. Whether you mean the fire or the kiss should be soon is entirely up to him to decide.
“Should I start to read?” He asks quietly. Feeling the moment start to grow into something warmer, sweeter.
“Yeah—I—um…” Any hesitation on your part is strictly attraction based, and you move your head a safe distance from his lips so as not to get distracted. “Please.”
Marcus turns his eyes to focus on the book and not on you. “The birth of Simon Authur Henry Clyvedon Fitzranulph Basset, Earl Clyvedon was met with great celebration.” He keeps his voice low, intimate between the two of you as he was reading you a story before bed.
It’s simultaneously the most relaxing thing in the world and causing you to be completely on edge, the way Marcus’s rich voice seems to roll right through you as he begins to read. Every place that the two of you are touching seems to be on fire and you cannot decide if you want to jump him or take the world’s most luxurious ride on his narration alone.
He feels you stiffen in his arms and he wonders if you’ve change your mind. “Everything okay?” He asks, wanting to check in with you. He had anticipated you melting against him, but you seem on edge and if it’s something he’s doing, he wants to fix it.
“Of course.” There’s nothing wrong with how relaxed you feel right now, but you know you’ve been a little tensed against him. You had just been hoping that he wouldn’t notice. The fact that he looks at you incredulously says he definitely did. “I’m—” Flustering, you clear your throat as gently as you can manage and bite back a smile. “I’m a little distracted,” you admit, wondering how well complete honesty will go over with him.
“Cold?” Marcus asks. “There’s a blanket right over your other shoulder.” He hums. “Snuggle against me and curl under it. I meant it, make yourself comfortable.” He’s not sure if it’s the change from having your jacket and boots on that’s distracting you, but he doesn’t mind the idea of being under a blanket together.
Not entirely sure that snuggling more would distract you less,” you pull the blanket down anyway and do as he suggests. It brings the two of you even closer and you have to tamp down the coil tightening even further in your gut. Keep your shit together. You’re a grown ass woman! “There.” You smile, but looking up at him brings your eyes to his lips again and you don’t even realize as your tongue darts out to wet your own lips at the sight. “All better.”
His eyes drop down to your lips and he all but groans at the sight of them wet. “Good.” He croaks out, clearing his throat. “That’s good.” It’s hard to tear his gaze away from you, but he needs to so he doesn’t overstep.
“Mmhmm.” Nodding is like a reflex, and for all your determination you just can’t look away. “Very good…”
There’s a moment where Marcus wants to put the book down and give into the desire to kiss you. But that wouldn’t be what you had planned when you came over here and if something happens, he’s determined to let you lead. “So, uh, where was I?”
“I think—” But the thought isn’t there. You have no idea what the last thing he read was, despite how much you love the sound of his voice. Every sense has been taken over by the buzzing hum running through your body and the spark of his skin touching yours. “I don’t—” You could bluster. Or try to skim the page and guess. But your impulses are a hell of a lot stronger than your good sense tonight. “—I really want to kiss you—”
Marcus groans quietly and the book snaps shut with a definitive thump. “I really want you to kiss me too.” He admits. “You should go with your instincts.”
“Instincts are important,” you nod as wisely and seriously as possible even as you’re turning into his side. Those warm puffs of breath that have been ghosting over your skin make you shiver, and you just have an unshakable feeling that this is that start of something completely wonderful. “Oh yeah?” You hum, close enough to nudge his nose with yours.
“Yeah.” Marcus exhales roughly, feeling like he is about to vibrate out of his skin. Despite his complaint to his mom that it was too soon since Teresa, he feels that this is nearly perfect. You’re perfect and he’s painfully attracted to you.
It only takes the smallest movement to fit your lips against his, but the response that floods your body is monumental. It really should only have been a quick, light, gentle kind of first kiss — but he did say to go with your instincts. So instead your hand comes up to graze the line of his jaw when the blissful feeling of having him kiss you back makes you feel like you might vibrate out of place right there on the couch.
It’s innocent, really. The kiss doesn’t go much deeper than the exploration of each other in that first pressing of lips and yet he feels like his heart is about to explode out of his chest. The only reason you pull back is to check in with him. It really is. Because that simple little first kiss might be the best first kiss you’ve ever had. His smile is a little dreamy, almost goofy as his eyes flutter opened after closing on their own. Looking at you as if you had hung the moon after that kiss.
"You look how I feel," you tell him, grin splitting your face clean across as you tuck tightly into his side. That pure joy radiating from his smile is the same feeling filling up your chest right now.
“Like you could tap dance on air?” He asks with an answering grin of his own. Wanting to pull you close and kiss you again, but resisting.
"Maybe." Neither of you were expecting the giggle you share, but it makes you both smile that much harder and you shift slightly against him. "And...like I didn't want to stop..."
“That too.” The book falls to the floor as he shifts slightly. His eyes are darker now, the lust and desire making his amber eyes turn to onyx. “You don’t have to.”
The momentum sweeps both of you up in a way you didn’t expect at all. As soon as he agrees to wanting even a little more you feel like the whole world tilts on its axis. You shift in his arms to surge toward him, lips pressing against his in earnest and barely managing to swallow a moan when he pulls you in tighter. It has you throwing caution to the wind and taking advantage of the open-mouthed kiss to taste him with your tongue — and letting a second moan out when he tastes just as sweet as you thought.
His arms wrap around you, not wanting you to shift too far away as he drowns in the kiss. Letting the feeling of your tongue caressing his completely overrule any semblance of thought beyond you and making sure you are aware of how much he is enjoying kissing you.
Trying to get as close to each other as you possibly can, you turn one more time in his arms and shift forward without ever breaking the kiss. His arms hold you steady, following wherever you’re going next, and in a moment of impulsivity and bravery you swing one leg over his lap to straddle Marcus completely on the couch.
Groaning, he absorbs your weight easily and his hands slide down your sides to squeeze your hips. He’s not upset you’re in his lap, quite the opposite. It makes his kiss just a little more frantic, trying to devour you a bit more.
Marcus has big hands. You know that already. But feeling them on you is totally different. His grip is firm but gentle, sweeping up and down your sides, and you’re suddenly hyper aware that you chose a dress and leggings and that those things provide no barrier between his body and yours. You can feel damn near everything underneath you and that is a blessing as well making you hyper aware of the warmth radiating off of him in waves.
He pants against your lips and feels like he’s underwater. Knowing that he is starting to harden underneath you at the warmth of your body, your core pressed against him.
The only thing that could possibly reel you back in at this point is him — the very same thing that is driving you crazy. But before you start grinding against him or even so much unconsciously moving your hips, you need to make sure he’s okay with it. You’re both panting heavily when you press your forehead against his, and your hands grip his shoulders tightly for balance. “I can stop…” you promise him, knowing that reeling yourself in now will be easier than later. “If you don’t want—more—”
“No.” The word is more whimper and plea than command and he wouldn’t do that anyway. “I— I’m good. I want—” He shakes his head and leans in to press his lips to yours again.
He wants just like you do, if the growing bulge beneath you is any indication, and you are not the slightest bit upset about that in anyway. It isn't what you came here for – or why you went on this date in the first place – but fuck if it isn't feeling like the perfect way to cap off the night.
The subtle circling of your hips has his fingers digging into your thighs as the most delicious groan rips out of his throat. Unsure if he wants you to stop or to just grind on him until you’re panting his name, he slides his tongue down your jaw and to your neck to follow it up with tiny kisses.
"Fuck— Marcus." The iron grip you had on his shoulders has slacked only so you can run your hands down his chest, feeling his heartbeat hammer under your fingertips just as fast as your own as he dusts kisses along your neck and raises goosebumps in his wake.
“So sexy.” He murmurs into your skin. Scraping his teeth over your pulse and sucking lightly. Enjoying the tremor that runs through you and the way you press down against his cock as you moan. He’s hard and starting to ache now, twitching every time you move.
“Unbelievably hot.” The first time you deliberately tilt your hips and rock your core over him, you both moan and you melt against him with your fingers fumbling for his buttons. “C—can I?” You manage, even though you feel like your voice is shaking. “Want to touch you, baby. Please?”
Exhaling on a shudder, Marcus gulps in air greedily. "Whatever you want." He croaks out. "I— fuck," His eyes close and his head tilts back slightly, exposing his Adam's apple. "I want you, but this stops wherever you want it to." He's not the type of man to push beyond your comfort, but if you said you wanted him inside you, he'd already be asking about protection. Not feeling like this is some sort of rebound, it feels like the beginning of something wonderful.
“I don’t want it to stop,” you admit, pausing with your fingers already in the first button of his shirt to find his eyes. This is not your usual first date M.O. but there is something here. Something very real and new between you that has wrapped itself around both of you together.
“We don’t have to stop.” Marcus promises you breathlessly, biting back a groan of pleasure when your hand splays across his chest, touching his hot skin.
"Thank god." Your own moan is a soft and breathy thing as you lean back to watch the broad expanse of his chest come into view with every button you manage to wrench open.
He manages to chuckle, even though he wants to just pull you closer and rip your clothes open to touch you, but he just pulls you close.
It's so damn easy to sink into him. For both of you to let your hands wander and your kisses migrate across each other's skin. He's stronger even than he looks at first glance and that is very strong – to the point where you really wonder if he might be able to just lift you up and carry you off. And that is just about the sexiest thing you can think of.
Keeping his hands on top of your clothes is going to be a real fucking challenge. Especially now that you have stripped him of his dress shirt and his undershirt. Squeezing and caressing every inch of skin you are baring, even the back of your tender neck while he scatters kisses along your lips.
The way he grabs and bunches your dress in his hands but doesn't reach further makes you groan, wondering if he's hesitant or if he's just waiting for permission. It really only takes a few seconds to realize there is something hesitant about the way he is kissing you or palming your hips and breasts over your dress, so you take one of his hands and guide it under the hem of your dress in invitation.
Marcus moans when you guide his hand under your dress, giving him permission to touch you and it becomes his mission to touch every inch of your body. Both hands slide up and down your thighs in sweeping passes, over your panties and to your stomach.
"Fuck." His hands are burning hot, making you shiver counterintuitively and lean into every touch. At this rate you may leave a damp patch from grinding down on him, but you don't even care. The friction is too good to ease up on. The only way you're moving off is so Marcus can get his pants off.
"That's right, baby." He agrees, unable to stop twitching every time you grind against the hard bulge in his slacks. "Fuck is right." His thumb sweeps under your breast right before he slides up to cover it with his hand, right over the bra and squeeze possessively. "You want to take off your dress for me, sweetheart?"
It's not even worth wasting breath on a reply, you just tear your hands away from his chest to pull your dress up over your head. It gets tossed somewhere on the floor and instantly forgotten about as you pant for your breath back and watch Marcus's eyes drink you in.
He didn't know that he could look so many places at once. Your tits, mouthwatering and begging for his attention. Down to your pretty panties that he wants to rip off and bury his tongue inside you to hear you squeal his name. Back up to your face and he nearly growls as he rushes in to kiss you again.
The momentum nearly knocks you backward but Marcus's arms are there to hold you steady. If he has his way you'll be staying skin-to-skin for a whole lot longer tonight and you have absolutely no problem with that. Every time his cock twitches under you, you can't help but moan, and soon it's going to be just a litany of that sound over and over.
Deft, sure hands reach back to undo your bra, making the first move to strip clothing off of you. Pulling the straps down your arms and immediately reaching up to cup your breasts and fill his hands with them. As simple as it might be to get a simple piece of clothing off of you, your high-pitched whine says everything about how eager you are to be rid of every stitch. "You have the best hands," you moan when he pinches your nipples and rolls the tight buds between his fingers for the first time.
"You have the best tits." Marcus hums, almost chuckling as he watches your head drop down to your chest and then roll back. "Fuck, that's it," he groans when you circle your hips on his cock again.
"S—swear this isn't what I was expecting—" You manage to breathe out, trying to assure him that you never expected sex tonight. "But fuck, baby."
"Me either." He agrees, kissing your jaw and then down your chest. His hot mouth moving towards your breast until he's pulling your nipple into his mouth.
“Mar—Marcus.” The heat of his mouth makes you keen even as your head drops back and the fingers of one hand tangle in his short hair. At this point every time you grind your hips down it’s like you’re trying to reach his cock inside his pants, and you know he’s as hard as you are wet.
He huffs and blows his breath against your nipple as he lets go of it, smirking up at you before sucking it back into his mouth. Knowing that tonight is nowhere near what he had imagined it being like and yet he can't be mad at it. He's eager to feel more of you.
“Feels so damn good.” The contrast of hot and cool on your skin makes your eyelids flutter and you rock in his lap.
He moans in agreement, his tongue flicking over the stiff peak and he loves how it puffs up even more in his mouth. Pulling off only to attack your other breast with equal enthusiasm.
Every flick of his tongue sends another shiver down your spine and as much as you just want to ride it out and see if you can cum only from having your tits sucked on, you want him more. One hand stays threaded in his hair but the other reaches down between you, finding the thick bulge of his cock in his pants and squeezing experimentally to see what makes him moan.
Marcus’s breath is ragged, shuddered against your skin and he pulls away because he might bite down too hard if you do that too well. “Fuck, baby.” He groans when you squeeze him again.
"I—" You breathe, panting when he twitches in your hand and you can feel how thick he is. "I have a condom in my wallet." It had been just a nothing idea, to throw one in while you were getting ready. More of a joke to yourself about how you always seem to be so overprepared. But now? Thank god you did.
"Yeah?" He kisses up your neck again and his tongue slides against the sensitive skin behind your earlobe. "I have one too." He admits. He's always carried one, but not because he expected sex, but because it was surprisingly handy to have at times. "Do you want to use yours or mine?"
"Yours first, mine second." It might sound a little overconfident, but something in you tells you for certain that this isn't just a one-time thing. Besides that, Marcus's hazy, lust-filled grin at your comment is worthwhile.
"Good girl." He groans out, twitching against your core at the thought of multiple rounds after you've both caught your breath and recovered.
That makes you moan reflexively, and you don't even pretend to demure over the reaction. It's honest and it's real. Who doesn't want to be praised during sex?
"Oh you like that." He chuckles and leans in to kiss your lips again softly. "I'll keep that in mind." He will, he will take note of every damn think you like.
"Not even going to pretend I don't." You lean forward to nip at his neck in turn before stepping back from him with a groan. With two feet on the rug, you already hate the distance between you. But you'll take care of that as soon as you strip his pants away.
Marcus pouts slightly but he quickly unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants so he can lift his hips up so you can pull his pants down. Black boxer-briefs under black trousers is very adult of him, and you're far too focused on the thick length trapped under that last layer of fabric to tease him about boring underwear. Instead you toss him his wallet from the back pocket of his pants and slip off your tights while he fishes for the condom packet.
Catching his wallet, Marcus opens it and pulls the condom out and tosses it on the coffee table before he bites his lip. Looking at you before he lifts his hips again and pushes down his boxer briefs.
Broad shoulders and a thin waist give way to long legs, but your attention is focused on his dark eyes until you let your gaze drop to his lap. The head of his cock is bordering purple, dripping precum, and it gives a distinct twitch against his belly when he watches you watch him. The perfect moment of quiet before the storm that is about to take over, you crack a grin at Marcus and take a step forward. That cock is going to feel so fucking good inside you.
"I take it you approve?" He asks, smirking himself as he holds out his hand to you. "Now, I want you to take off your panties for me, sweetheart."
“Oh, these things?” With your thumbs hooked into either side of your panties, you grin a little wider before slipping them straight down your legs to pool at your feet. “Gone.”
"Fuck." He groans, cock jerking again at the sight of you completely bare in front of him. "You're so beautiful. I'm lucky to be able to touch you."
You hum, shaking your head and making a show of walking the three steps you need to need to be ready to crawl back into his lap. “I could say the same thing.”
He chuckles and rips open the condom to roll down his length. Biting his lip while he studiously applies the prophylactic, he looks back up at you with his hand wrapped around his covered cock. "Then touch me again and make me believe it." He teases.
Never having known a single man who didn’t like having his cock ridden, you fit one knee on the outside of each of his hips and sit yourself down directly over his core, replacing his hand with yours and wishing you had had the opportunity to suck his cock just a little before he applied the condom. Next time, you tell yourself, rocking over the tip of his length and watching his Adam’s Apple bob dramatically until you start to slide that length inside you an inch at a time.
His hands find your hips again. Not to rush you, but to hold you as you slowly start to engulf his cock. Moaning out your name when you get the first two inches inside your hot body and your walls squeeze him tight. "That— fuck, baby, you feel so good." He praises breathlessly. "How— is it good?" He can barely think straight, but he wants to make sure you are comfortable.
“Perfect.” Barely holding onto your last shred of control, you are determined to make sure you both latch on to the bliss of this moment before anything else. “Fucking perfect.”
Your fingers dig into his shoulders but the slight pain just adds to how good the way you sink down onto him feels. Groaning again as you keep taking him, wrapping him up in the heat of your body. "Good."
“Goddamn.” When he’s fully seated inside you, you pause long enough for both of you to catch your breath. “Tell me when I can move, baby.”
"Anytime you want to move." He moans, wanting you to move now, but he's not the one who is on top. "You set the pace, baby."
That in itself is enough encouragement, and you raise up on your knees right away to the musical harmony of a moan ripping out of each of you. “Fuck you feel so good,” you moan, barely keeping your eyes open as you set an even but energetic pace. It feels that good, but you want to be able to watch him.
Breathing out shakily, Marcus can't even speak. Too overcome by the pure pleasure that comes when you start to move. Rolling your hips and clenching down around him, you fit like you are perfectly molded around him. Eyes fluttering when you start to lift off his length, but then take him even deeper when you sink back down.
The sounds of sex are distinct – sloppy and wet and loud – as the two of you find a rhythm together. If you believed in Fate you’d say he felt like he was made for you, but as it is you really can barely form any thoughts at all. He fills you in a way you don’t think you’ve ever felt before and every perfect man goes straight to your clit as you ride him.
His fingers are still grazing your hip as his thumb presses against that little button that drives women crazy. Humming when he starts to work quick, small circles on top of it as you move. Wanting to match the rhythm for your pleasure. Your hands are everywhere, pulling in his hair and bracing on his shoulders, grazing down his chest and even reaching behind you to lean backward and get a slightly different angle and groaning loudly when it strikes you just right.
Letting you lead doesn’t mean that Marcus does nothing. His hips rock up every other thrust to make sure that you are impaled on his cock. Toes curling every time, he groans out your name again and again.
Curses and praises fall from your lips, punctuating the litany of moans with colorful encouragement and pleas. Every time he thrusts upward you feel like you’re going to have all of your insides rearranged, and it’s so fucking good you never want it to stop.
“Fuck. Baby.” Marcus leans forward and presses his forehead to your clavicle. “You’re taking me so well. Love it.” His mouth sometimes gets filthy when he’s lost in a moment and it’s no different today. “Pretty little pussy clamped down over my dick.”
Fucking hell. He even talks dirty. You keen in response, a moan so animated and turned the fuck on that you’re picking up the pace and pawing at your own tits in Marcus’s face. It’s beautiful to watch your tits bounce and your hands pluck at them, but he’s a hands on kind of guy and he lets go of your waist so he can lavish attention on them.
It’s an automatic switch. When his hands move to knead your tits and pluck at your nipples, you replace one of your own on his shoulder and let the other drift to your clit to run the same circles that he was just a second ago. You’re hurtling desperately close to cumming and you can’t wait to hear what dirty little praises he’s going to come out with when you clamp down on his cock even harder.
Marcus moans and groans with his nipple in your mouth. His eyes watching your fingers dance over your clit and he’s memorizing the fact that you enjoyed the way he had been touching you. His hips rocking up fast to punch up into you. Feeling you getting closer to your peak with ever gasped squeal you give him.
“So—fuck— so fucking close,” you manage between pants and moans as your body starts to lock down all at once and that coil in the base of your spine tightens beautifully like you were warning it and not just him. “Oh fuck, I’m cum—”
The second he feels you tense up, Marcus pops off your tit and his arms wind around you like steel bands. Holding you in place so he can take over. Thrusting up into you while you start to cum. “That’s it.” He hisses. “Cum for me. Soak me baby. Show me how good my cock feels.” He groans, the hard, sharp thrusts knocking his breath out but he fucks you through it, still babbling. “Like a vice, like a fucking vice. Come on baby, give me all of it.”
The filthy babbling almost breaks you, with the way that it shakes through you and makes you gasp at breaths even with how much you’re panting. Sparks flash white behind your eyes as Marcus’s hips start to stutter, and you’re vaguely aware of a stream of your own encouragements — or maybe just begging him to cum so you can see how gorgeously unwound he looks when he hits his peak. You can’t be sure which it is, or if it’s both, but either way his arms tighten around you that much more and he groans in your ear like sin incarnate.
"Fuck you're so good." Marcus breathes. "I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna fill your little pussy up." That's not going to happen because of the condom, but logistics don't exactly matter right this second. All that matters is that he's going to be buried inside you as he cums. "Fuck baby, fuck." He chokes out, giving one more thrust and grinding up into you as he whines your name into your ear. Spilling into the condom in hot waves of pleasure.
“Holy shit.” You’re the first to break into giggles, when you finally have your breath back. His arms were so tight around you at the end that you might feel a little bruised tomorrow but you can’t find it in yourself to care at all. That’s the best ride you’ve had in ages and it was only the first time.
Humming, Marcus leans in and nuzzles his nose against your neck. Panting to catch his breath. "Holy shit is right." He gives his own little giggle because he's feeling so loose and good.
“Let me know when I’m getting too heavy.” With your forehead pressed to his shoulder and the feeling very slowly returning to your extremities, you’re still not sure about moving immediately. “My legs aren’t working yet. You turned them into jelly.”
"You can stay right here as long as you want." He promises with a grin, his spent cock twitching inside you. He will have to hold to condom when he pulls out, but it's worth it. "Want me to read to you now while you recover?"
The awe and adoration in your expression when you pull back from him is unmistakable. He’s going to read to you post-coitus?! “You’re actually perfect,” you sputter out in disbelief, though you’re absolutely not saying no.
He chuckles and sends you a warm smile. "It's the least I can do," he teases, "since you did all the work." His hands slowly caress your spine and he’s enjoying the way you feel against him.
“And I’ll gladly do all the work again for round two if that’s the response I get.” Not even teasing, you nudge your nose against his and steal a kiss, savoring the taste of perspiration mixed with Marcus’s kiss.
He hums against your lips and slides his hand up to hold you in place to deepen the kiss. "Thank you." He murmurs when he pulls away. "For this. For making it easy to enjoy the best damn date I've had in a long time."
“No need to thank me.” There is so much softness in it that you melt a little bit more, nuzzling into him right there in his lap. “I’m gonna have a hell of a time trying to make sure our second date beats it.”
It makes him laugh, a giddy, carefree sound and he sigh happily. "We should just keep it going then." He decides. "That way we don't have to think of ideas to top this."
You could float away on the sound of his laugh, just reveling in this joyful energy. All the same, you pull back again and find his eyes carefully. “You asking me to stay the night, handsome?”
"What kind of date would I be if I sent you home when your legs are Jello?" He asks playfully, leaning in and nudging your nose with his. "Especially since it's my fault."
“Fault. Generous gift. Same thing.” You both grin, indulging in more kisses until you’re sighing into him all over again. “In that case, I think we should go upstairs,” you murmur. “Read in bed until we either want to go again or fall asleep.”
"Do you want some water?" He asks softly, knowing you might be thirsty after all that work. "I can get you some before we go up?"
“Perfect gentleman.” You hum softly, knowing you need to climb out of his lap but wanting one more kiss first. “Water would be amazing.”
He gives you another lingering kiss, smiling against your lips when you start to pout as you lift off of him. He slides his hand between you to hold the base of his cock, keeping the condom from moving. "Good. My room is the last door on the left." He tells you. "I'll be up in just a second, as soon as I get rid of the condom and get some water."
"Okay." Even though you pause to gather up your stuff, you don't bother getting dressed. Sauntering upstairs naked has an air of comfort and unexpected sexiness to it that you can't deny, but you do stop off in the bathroom to do the extremely unsexy task of cleaning up and having a quick pee. By the time you get out, you barely have a second to slip under the covers before Marcus appears in the doorway.
"Bottle of water, like the lady ordered." Marcus put away the cheeseboard and wine, gathering up his own clothes before coming upstairs. He wants to make sure you are comfortable. Grinning, he walks over in his boxers to hand you the water. "Need anything else, sweetheart?"
"A little company, that's all." Did he manage to get more attractive in the less than five minutes you were apart? That's wholly unfair.
"Company I can definitely provide." He smirks slightly as he walks around the bed to climb in beside you. "Comfortable? Need another pillow?"
"Not gonna lie." As he slides in next to you, you move toward him like a magnet. "I was kind of hoping for a human pillow."
"That's my favorite type of pillow to be." His arms open up to let you settle against him. "Especially when I'm going to read to you."
"Absolutely perfect," you murmur happily, laying your head down on his chest as he picks up the book. Tonight really was, without a doubt, the best date you've ever had. You're going to have to do a hell of a job hosting the next book club meeting as a thank you.
He picks up reading again, basically just starting over. Keeping his voice low and the only light is from the lamp on his bedside table. Letting the atmosphere stay intimate. It might be the first date, but it was going to hopefully the last first date he has.
______
Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury
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ineffablyruined · 7 months
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Chekhov's Contract
Back again for Day 3 of the Nice and Accurate Prophecies event.
How Will Our Hero Cope?
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Today, we let's talk about Crowley. Within the span of a few hours, Crowley has gone to Heaven and learned of another plotted End of the World, watched the closest thing he has to an archnemesis (Gabriel) run off with his demon love of a meager four years and suffer no consequences for it, and left his heart shattered on the floor of the bookshop as the love of his life chooses a job promotion over him. He's not doing great. So what is in store for Crowley in Season 3?
It's honestly hard to predict because there is just so much open space to play with. He could do anything and not one of us would be surprised.
Sleep for a century? There's precedent. Get extremely drunk for weeks on end? That's on brand. Go tit for tat and take a leadership position in Hell just to cancel out Aziraphale in Heaven? Seems unlikely, but I also wouldn't be surprised at that level of petty lashing out.
But I did find one thing. At least, I think I did.
There was, I have now convinced myself, a Chekhov's Gun in Season 2 that I haven't seen anyone talking about. (Apologies if you're out there screaming and I just haven't seen it. I did try searching!)
When Beelzebub kidnaps Crowley from the Bentley and takes him to Hell to discuss the Gabriel situation, they make an offer to Crowley that Crowley later accepts. And what is that?
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Find Gabriel for me and you can have whatever your nasty little heart desires.
And what does Crowley do in Episode 6? Finds the writing on the box that tells everyone Gabriel is in the fly. He finds Gabriel for Beelzebub.
Just to emphasize that again - Crowley fulfills his side of a verbal contract forged with the Grand Duke of Hell.
He's now owed whatever his heart desires. And as we've seen, Heaven and Hell operate like businesses. Contracts must be fulfilled. (Excuse me while my little lawyer-nerd heart sings over here.)
And we also know that he's aware that Heaven has plans for Armageddon 2.0.
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Where he would absolutely deserve to wallow after all the utter bullshit drama he's gone through, I don't believe that's Crowley (no matter how much fun it makes to write in fanfiction). Crowley isn't just going to sit back and watch the world burn.
In the past, when Crowley has wanted to run away, it's only ever been with Aziraphale. Sure, he threatens he's going to head to Alpha Centauri even when Actually rejects the offer, but he doesn't do it.
And now? Running away with Aziraphale isn't an option because he's gone.
Crowley has nothing left to lose. So he's going to throw his entire self into saving the world, with reckless disregard for his own safety.
And he's going to have a blank check from Hell to do it.
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yo-yo-yeonkai · 3 months
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ONE DATE - CHOI BEOMGYU - NSFW
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Beomgyu x AFAB!reader
Genre: smut
Warning list: kinda brat tamer! beomgyu x kinda brat! reader (there’s isn’t much emphasis), private in public, fingering! F receiving, pet names (Sweetheart, pretty girl), mention of withheld orgasm, I don’t think there is anything else- let me know if I missed something.
Word count: 2,169
Summary: Beomgyu was desperate since the day he saw your face, and to get you he’d decided a pick up line MUST work— right?
A/N: this is my entry for @matchaxmatcha ‘s Valentine’s Day event! I hope you all enjoy!
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Every day without fail he stood there, in front of the counter with another dumb pick up line, followed by a question.
"if you were a vegetable you'd be a cutecumber!" He smiles at you, a smile you'd grown to love. Then he says the question "will you let me take you out on a date?".
The wording of the question had changed over the weeks from "go on a date with me", "please go on a date with me", to fairly recently "let me go on a date with you please". It was cute in a way, that he wanted to go out with you so badly that he changed the wording to make it more special.
You remember the first time you'd seen him. The bell on the door clung charmingly as he entered, and you looked up from your book and smiled at him "good evening". It was how you greeted everyone who entered. But this time you were caught of guard, it wasn't an older person waking into the small bookshop like normal, no, it was a man, seemingly your age. His hair was fairly long, enough to tuck behind his ears, his eyes were a deep pretty brown, and his smile, oh his smile. He caught your eye instantly. He smiled back at you, lips curving beautifully, "good evening right back at you!".
You were hoping he'd continue to speak to you , but he didn't, he opened his phone and seemingly scrolled. Normally you'd go back to your book but instead you pulled out your phone and opened the camera to check you looked at least okay. Noticing your hair looks messy you put your phone down and began tying your hair back up, hands in your hair, bobble gently between your lips. And suddenly he peeks out from a bookcase and speaks "hey there-" he paused, looking at you for a second then chuckled and continued as you rushed to tie your hair "I was wondering if you could help me find a book. It's for my friend. He told me it was called 'before the coffee goes cold'."
Finally done with your hair you smiled at him, leaving the counter "oh yep, we definitely have it. Do you know if he's looking for the first of the series or a different number?" You questioned, making sure you did your very best.
Shrugging, he pulled out his phone with a swift movement and called his friend "here, Soobin, you speak to this lovely bookstore lady" and then he hands you his phone with a smile. You bashfully took it "hello?" You mutter. And the man on the other end sighs "hello, sorry about him, he's stupid. Do you have the stock of the full series of before the coffee goes cold? I don't want them all now, only the first, but if I like the first I want to know I could get the others" he explains.
You giggle lightly "yup, we have the full set. Your friend here can buy number one today and I'll put the others on hold. What name do you want me to put them under?" You questioned.
The man you knew was called Soobin chuckled to himself "thank you so much. Can you put them under Choi Beomgyu please". That certainly wasn't his name, but if that's what he wanted.
"Of course, have a lovely day, and I hope you enjoy the book" you tell him, as if you were serving him in the shop.
Handing the phone back to the man infront of you he said bye to his friend then gazed up at you. "So? What did he decide?" He asked, genuinely curious.
You began walking to where the set was and you heard him follow behind you "he wants the first one today. And I'm putting the rest of the set on hold for him" you explained grabbing up the four books and taking them to the till.
There you continued to serve the man and he made small talk. "What's your name then?" He questioned, watching as you wrapped up the first book so prettily. "I'm (L/N) (Y/N), and you?". He smiles at you, that fucking gorgeous smile "Choi Beomgyu. You have a pretty name". You suddenly realized what Soobin was up to, he was planning on sending his clueless friend in every time he wanted a book, but why?
You wrote him name on the paper and put it on top of the remaining stack and moved it to the side as you charged him and handed him the book. By the time he left he knew: how old you were, your name, that you had a cat, that you loved working here. And you were sure, with his curiosity he'd know more on his next visit.
And he did, each week he visited for a new book for Soobin, and each week slowly became every other day, which quickly became every day, with pick up lines, and the invite for a date.
As much as accepting his offer excited you, teasing him was so much more fun. You liked that he was adamant, and by this point you would call him a friend.
Until today, where everything became different. He normally came in midday, most likely after he's done something else, attended a class, worked his shift? You weren't really sure, that was something you meant to ask. But today he payed his daily visit in the evening right before the shop was meant to close, a minute before the shop was meant to close.
The door chimes with the usual bell, and you inwardly groaned at an annoying customer, until you looked up and realised it wasn't a customer, it was only Beomgyu. "What do you want Beomgyu?" You smiled at him, moving past to lock the shop door so nobody else could come in. Then you began tidying up, accepting that he wouldn't leave anytime soon.
He smiles at you "you. I want you." He muttered, knowingly loud enough for you to hear it. You smacked him around the shoulder lightly with a book, then moved down the aisle to put it back where it belongs. "Don't be so suggestive Beomgyu~ I haven't even said yes to the date yet". And you knew the second that you'd said 'yet' you'd screwed yourself over.
As you slotted the book back where it belongs he chuckles, an obvious smirk in the sound. "Yet? Oooo~ I knew you wanted me too. Do you want me to go about my normal routine or do you want to just say yes now?" He teased.
You continued to put the books away, him following shortly behind you. You giggled "no, do indulge me Beomgyu... I want to know how bad it'll be today."
He chuckled and spoke "Are you a basketball hoop? Because I'd love to put my balls in your basket.".
You spun around a deadpanned "What is that even meant to mean Gyu?". At first you belived Beomgyu was genuinely coming up with them, but now you were sure his search history was full of ‘best pick up lines’, ‘pick up lines that get a girl’, ‘pick up lines that work’. You had no doubt in your mind
He chuckled at you and took a few steps closer "Whatever you want it to mean, sweetheart". There was a daring look in his eyes as he looked down at your lips, the thought of kissing you crossing his mind several times in the span of a second.
You caught yourself thinking the same thing, you wanted to feel him, to be with him, to finally say yes to him. "Yes, okay yes I'll go on a date with you!" You borderline shout, and instead of kissing you he teased "I knew you'd say yes one day! I'm so-"
"Shut the fuck up, and kiss me you idiot!". You cut him off, grabbing his shirt in your fist and pulling him towards you, the distance mere centimeters at this point.
Beomgyu had been trying to do this for atleast 3 months, He wasn't going to say no now. So he met you half way, hands finding their place on your waist as your lips pressed together so desperately. It was pure lust, pure desire, you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you. He was driving you crazy each day, but you were too stubborn to say yes, it was just too fun making him work for it. But now, lord, now you have him.
Your hands slid into his long hair, tugging gently on his locks and feeling him groan into the kiss. His hands slowly climbed from your hips under your top, your bare skin burning under his touch. The way he felt against you was more than you could’ve ever asked for, it was electric, like he was the one for you. Nobody has ever made you feel the way Beomgyu does.
He begun walking you backwards, hands running higher under your shirt until he got to your chest. Your back slammed into the bookshelf and Beomgyu chuckled as a book fell off “gonna have to clean that up pretty girl~”.
You ran one hand from Beomgyu’s hair down his chest and to his belt as you spoke “mhmm~ gonna have to clean you up aswell”.
Beomgyu had never had someone come back at him with the energy he was giving, but he loved it. He couldn’t wait to rip that energy out of you by fucking you dumb. He’d make you the perfect little toy tonight. “Dream on sweetheart” he chuckled, head falling to your neck to kiss messy marks down your soft supple skin.
His fingers rolled your nipples between his fingers, pulling moans from you as you tried to undo his belt. You were pathetic, not even being able to undo his belt, it was almost cute. Beomgyu released one of your boobs and pushed his hand under your small skirt, hand landing between your legs on your clothed cunt.
“I’m gonna make such a mess of you, right here where you work-“ he chuckled against your neck, sucking a soft red mark into your skin right after. You gave up on Beomgyu’s belt as soon as he begun pushing your panties to the side to rub your clit. His fingers slid in between your folds collecting your desire and dragging it to your clit. He drew small circles on you, slowly but steadily, whilst his other hand continued to play with your tits. Small whimpers fell from your lips, so pathetic and so cute. Beomgyu loved it-
You body felt hot, and you needed him, needed to really feel him. “Gyu please, wan’ more”, you stuttered the words out over your whines. In return beomgyu smirked, a stupid cocky smirk. You loved it.
His hand falls from your tit and grabs your leg and holds it up at his waist so he can get to your pussy better. “You need more pretty girl? Then beg for me” he teased, stopping his ministrations on your cunt entirely.
You nearly sobbed at the loss of contact “please Gyu, please, I need you - I need more- I wanna cum” you babbled, hands gripping his shirt tightly, pulling him closer to you.
“As you wish then sweetheart” he smiled, leaning in to kiss your lips as his fingers slid to your dripping hole, squeezing around nothing at the thought of him. He thrusted his fingers into you, your tightness making it difficult for him to even move his fingers, and god he became desperate for you. Couldn’t wait to feel that tight little pussy wrapped around him, you’d make him feel so good.
He set a pace with his fingers, brutally bringing you closer and closer to a high as moans ripped from you. He looked at your face and wondered what you’d look like when you came, would you be as beautiful as normal- or better? Flushed a pretty pink, lips swollen, sweat dripping… god he’d want you all over again. Or would you look better if he denied you of your orgasm? Eyes wide in shock as you looked at him and begun begging, pushing yourself onto him more. Ahhh- he couldn’t decide.
You clenched around him and he chuckled at you “wanna cum sweetheart? Wanna cum on my fingers?” He teased you. You nodded aggressively at his words, and gripped his shoulders tightly, trying to keep yourself balanced. “Gyu please- gonna cum- please-“ you begged subconsciously, not even aware of the words falling from your lips.
Only a few more thrusts of his fingers and you had cum all over then. Wetness dripping down your thighs, body twitching as he continued to fuck you through it, head thrown against the bookcase as you tried to catch your breath.
You looked perfect- and he couldn’t wait to make you do that all over again on his cock.
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noneorother · 7 months
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All the music you didn’t hear: The Good Omens soundtrack is lying to you. *Part2*
The Bonkers Meta Series 2: Electric Boogaloo. This week on the chopping block: The official Good Omens 2 soundtrack album!
Part 1  l  Part 2  
If you, like me, have absolutely no respect for your time (or your 2023 Spotify Wrapped) and are willing to sit with the show and the David Arnold score album running side by side to match up all the songs, then you too can find out what I did: exactly 6 songs in the album go off the rails in the show in a very specific way. And you know what they say about a song…
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So let’s break these misbehaving songs down, shall we? 
A Bell Tolls for Thee
There are SO MANY DAMN BELLS in season 2. I think the sound department might have had a competition going. But I want to show you the bells that happen in the music of the show, but not in the album.
Specifically, there are tubular bells all over the score in David Arnold’s orchestration in season 2 (and some in season 1). It’s an instrument used throughout classical music to represent grandfather clocks or church bells, signalling time passing, like striking the hour. But, this season has done something devious: it sets up your expectation by putting tubular bells in all the regular places in the score, so that you notice less when they whack a big tubular bell ring in a place where it should not be, at a key moment in the story. 
Feel free to go back and listen to these time codes in the show, it’s going to become obvious real fast.  
S2E1 - 14:55 l Song : Into Soho Aziraphale answers the door to a naked Gabriel, and recognizes him for the first time. A bell rings once.
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If you listen closely to the album version, David Arnold recorded a beautiful and uplifting ending to this track. Too bad we never get to hear it in the show, it splits off into a bell toll and then a reorchestration. We never hear the end!
S2E1 - 42:30 l Song : Tiny Miracle Aziraphale & Crowley perform a class-A miracle, and Crowley pokes the barrier with his finger. A bell rings twice.
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Same thing for Tiny Miracle! The ending of the song in the album we never get to hear in the show, it gets interrupted by 2 tubular bell tolls and another reorchestration of other music. 
S2E3 - 33:59 l Song : Reprise - Something Terrible Aziraphale considers the statue of Gabriel in his present day trip to Edinburgh. A bell rings three times.
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This one starts from silence with 3 bell tolls as a reprise of “Something terrible” starts just after it. The second and third bells are woven into the music on beats they never appear in those bars on the recording. 
S2E4 - 38:00 l Song : Zombie Dressing Room  Shax asks Beelzebub for permission to attack the bookshop. A bell rings four times.
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This one is extra weird (see my first music post). Even though we stretch out Zombie Dressing Room way after the dressing room scene is over and into the Shax in hell scene, it still manages to work in 4 new tubular bell rings that aren’t there in the score, and we never hear the same ending as on the album. 
S2E5 - 00:05 - 10:14 l Song : Reprise - Something Terrible Shax requisitions troops and gathers her legion. A bell rings five times.
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This one is tricky because Shax’s scene in hell is cut up 5 times, but you probably see where this is going: every time we cut back to Shax there’s a new bell rings once that wasn’t in the recording.  
S2E5 - 29:56 l Song : Shax Shax arrives from Hell in the elevbator to attack the bookshop. A bell rings six times.
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This is the last time in the season when we hear extra tubular bells. In a pretty bizarre turn of events, the demons Shax has mustered have walked in from down the street, but Shax takes the elevator to arrive at the bookshop. What a way to treat your troops. In any case, we get a final song that doesn’t get the ending it deserves, and gets cut off in favour of a reprise.
Taco Bell: Live Confused So why put so much effort into signalling these 6 specific actions with bell tolls? The first three are clearly Aziraphale & Crowley related, while the second three are Shax related. (All the Shax actions accompanied by bells have flashing lights above Shax.) Could this be a way of signalling we are halfway to the second coming, 6 hours until midnight on the armageddon clock? Or something else entirely?
Every time we hear the added bells, the soundtrack in the show deviates from the planned endings written for the album. Are these mistakes in the timeline, that were never supposed to happen in the ineffable plan? I guess we'll all be listening together for tubular bells in season 3... -------------------------------- Thanks to @embracing-the-ineffable for the encouragement, and the Ineffable detective agency for all their hard work. Part 1 is here!
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thefallennightmare · 3 months
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One Night-Valentine's Day special
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*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*
Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader
Warnings: lots of smut(mask play, spit play, bondage, anal, fingering, oral(m/f receiving), choking, unprotected sex), swearing, angst, fluff.
Summary: Nothing like a little Valentines Day smut for these two love birds!
Authors Note: Since this takes place during this universe, every thing that happened between Noah and Reader is still the same! Just a little pop in to see how they've been doing! Happy Valentines Day my lovelies! I hope you enjoy this little blurb!
Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @sammyjoeee @shilohrosechicken @malice-ov-mercy @thebadchic @niicoleleigh @lma1986 @dsireland86 @bellaboo967 @cookiesupplier @whenthesummerdies @bngurngheart @laurpartyprogram @thisbicc @lyinginbetween @princessmarshmallowx @loeytuan98 @cncohshit @lacktoesandtoddlerants @notingridslurkaccount @calleyx13 @jessiskyee @mrscevans @spicywhenspeaking @myownthoughts12 @br0kenangel23 @flowery-mess @lizzieseveride @illmakeyousaywow @burning-outx @xhedonistolisx @sinnamongirl @jilliemiw86 @shayzillaaaa @dream-machine-love
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“Hi, who can I make this out to?” I smiled up at the person in front of me. 
The young blonde smiled wide. “Uh, Jennifer.” 
I picked up on her nerves but decided not to dwell on it like I’d done with the other 50 people before her. I opened the book Jennifer lay in front of me and wrote the same message I’d been writing all day.
Jennifer, 
Thank you so much for the support. 
XO
Y/N. 
“Thank you so much for coming out”, I said while sliding the book back to Jennifer. 
Jennifer shook her head while clutching the book close to her chest. “No, thank you, Y/N! I absolutely loved One Night. So when you were promoting Always Pretending, I knew I would have another book to add to my TBR list. Needless to say, it’s my favorite book ever.” 
My cheeks flushed. “Oh wow. Thank you so much for that, Jennifer. Truly, your praise means a lot.” 
With a wave, I continued the same thing for the next long while, signing book after book for my fans. This was the last day in a two-week-long book tour across the United States and to say I was exhausted was an understatement. Not to mention, I had a four-hour flight back home to Los Angeles as soon as I left this bookshop. Jackie, my assistant, knew how badly I wanted to get back home so she booked the earliest flight she could. 
It has been like this for the last year ever since I published One Night and now Always Pretending; both books on the bestseller list. While I was thankful for that, I wasn’t thankful for being away from home for so long. 
Away from Noah.
Our schedules didn’t seem to match up as of late. While I was away on my book signing tour, he was home resting because a week after I got back home, Bad Omens would be leaving for a round of festivals overseas. Noah wanted me to join him since I hadn’t been in a long time. We’d been dating for almost two years now and I had to miss out on the last two tours because of my own career. 
I had every intention of joining Noah now but needed to talk to Jackie about it first. She worked tirelessly to keep my schedule busy and jam-packed to promote my books but in my eyes, they didn't need any more promotion. I’d been working almost nonstop with these book tours, interviews, and not to mention trying to work on my third book. 
I needed a fucking break. 
I didn’t want it to seem to people that I was complaining because I was thankful for where I ended up. If you had told the girl two years ago who sat on that tour bus wondering if her first book would be good enough to become a best-selling author, she’d laugh in your face. 
Noticing that we were dwindling to the last few people, I powered through with a plastered smile even though my eyes were drowning in exhaustion. My phone lay on the table next to me, screen down but kept buzzing against the wood. Jackie went to reach for it but I shot her a look in between signing books. 
“I thought you’d want me to respond for you,” she tried to smile. 
I bit my tongue, not wanting to snap at the older woman because she was simply doing her job but I knew who was texting me and didn’t want her to see those messages. 
“It’s fine, thank you,” I muttered. 
Finally, after a two-hour signing, I was finished and shook out the cramps in my right hand while letting out a deep breath. It was almost 2 in the afternoon and my flight left in 3 hours which meant I had to rush across town to make it in time. 
“So, I was thinking,” Jackie started as I began to gather my things. “The local news channel would love to have you on their morning report tomorrow. I think it would be great publicity.” 
I raised a brow. “You seemed to forget that I have a flight in three hours, Jackie.” 
“I know,” she nodded. “But we can move some things around and-.” 
For the first time since she took over as my assistant, I said the word that I never wanted to because I knew how important the publicity side of my career was. 
“No.” 
Jackie blinked. “What?” 
I sighed while running a hand through my hair. “Look Jackie, while I appreciate everything you’ve done for me these past few months, I need a break. I’ve been going nonstop since One Night was published. I miss my life back in Los Angeles. I miss my quiet little apartment. I miss my boyfriend.” 
Noah’s smile flashed in my mind and my heart yearned to be back with him. About three months ago, he moved in with me but with how busy both of us had been it felt as if we didn’t have time to actually revel in living together. 
Not to mention, being away from him for two weeks made me horny as hell. Facetime sex paled in comparison to seeing and feeling the real thing. 
“But-.” 
I held up my hand to silence Jackie. “You deserve a break as well, Jackie. Take some time off, do things you love. When I’m ready to talk about book three, I’ll give you a call, alright?” 
Reluctantly, she nodded while tucking a piece of graying hair behind her ear. 
Bidding her goodbye, I threw my bag over my shoulder and then dragged my suitcase behind me to exit the bookstore only to immediately sit in the backseat of the black town car that had been waiting to take me to the airport. Once we were gliding along the road, I finally peered at my phone for the first time in a few hours. 
Noah: Angel, I’m so proud of everything you’ve done. Seeing how successful your book tour has been makes me smile. I can’t wait till you’re back home and we can celebrate. I love you so much. 
Noah: So, are you going to sign a copy of Always Pretending for me? Since you know, I was your muse for it. 
I rolled my eyes with a giggle before replying to Noah. 
Me: Oh please, you know I’d sign a book for my biggest fan. Also, I love you too. 
As I browsed through my phone, checking my social media and responding to emails, Noah texted back. 
Noah: So, we have a problem. I can’t pick you up from the airport because I forgot I had my therapy appointment at six.
My heart sunk to the depths of my stomach. All day I’d been looking forward to seeing Noah’s face as I stepped through the doors of the airport. But I knew that he couldn’t miss therapy. It was more important than picking me up. 
Me: It’s okay, love. I can order an uber. I should be back home by 8. Maybe we can have a late dinner together? 
Noah: Already taken care of, angel. 
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With a yawn, I adjusted my glasses as I stepped through the gate doors of the airport, dragging my bags behind me. There was a delay in taking off at the last airport which meant I was now arriving in Los Angeles at 9 p.m rather than 7 p.m. I had to buy wifi on the plane so I could message Noah to let him know about the delay. 
Thank the gods I changed out of my professional attire at the last airport and opted to wear my Bad Omens joggers and Noah’s yellow hoodie; his smell still lingering. With my phone in one hand, I was about to order an Uber when my feet skidded to a halt at the sight in front of me. 
What a cheeky little…
Noah smirked as he held a bouquet of black daisies. 
“Hi, angel,” he mused. 
I reached for the flowers and brought them to my nose, inhaling their scent, and then peered up at Noah. 
“I thought you couldn’t pick me up.” 
Noah brushed away a loose strand of hair from my face. “I sort of lied. I had plans to pick you up then take you out to dinner for Valentine's day but when your flight got delayed, I had to switch things up.” 
“So you’ve been waiting here for two hours?” I asked. 
“Worth it.” 
He shrugged before wrapping his fingers behind my neck to bring our lips together in a long overdue kiss. His tongue immediately molded against mine and I moaned into it, my hand sprawling over his chest. The material of his Hereditary sweater felt warm underneath my palm and I let myself fall into him when his hands grasped my hips. 
“I missed you, Y/N,” Noah’s teeth grazed over my bottom lip. 
“I missed you too, love.” 
With his arm wrapped around my shoulder and other hand holding my bags, Noah led me out of the airport and towards his car parked in the parking lot. Once we were settled, he began the drive back home. I nestled into the passenger seat and let out a content sigh. 
“Tired?” Noah questioned with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on my thigh. 
“No, surprisingly. I thought I would be but I’m just happy to be back home.” 
He brought my hand to his lips to kiss along my knuckles. “I’m glad you’re back too, angel.” 
For the rest of the drive home, I told him how the book tour went while he told me what he did the last few weeks. Since it was down time for Bad Omens, Noah spent it either in the gym with Ash or in the studio with the guys. 
As we walked down the long hallway to our apartment, another yawn slipped through my lips and I nearly stumbled. Noah chuckled as he wrapped an arm around me to pull me into his chest. 
“You should get some sleep, angel.” 
I frowned while burying myself into his sweater. "I'm not tired."
His lips brushed along my forehead as we stopped in front of our door and he unlocked it. The darkness of our home escaped into the hallway as I stepped through the threshold and when I clicked on the lights, a gasp fell from my lips. 
Matching the daisies bouquet I had clutched in my arms, our entire apartment was littered. Music played softly as I noticed the steaming dinner plated on our kitchen island, candles lit and spread throughout. 
Turning on my heels, I gaped at Noah who leaned against the door with a smug smile. 
“What is this?” I asked, doing my best not to cry. 
“Happy Valentine's Day, angel. I had Jolly set this up for me while we were on our way home. He had to warm up the dinner I cooked earlier but I promise it’s still good,” he said. 
My eyes widened. “Oh, I forgot it’s Valentine's day! I was so busy with everything I didn’t get you anything.” 
Noah pushed himself off the door and immediately cupped my face so I could look up at him. The hood of his sweater was still pulled over his eyes, chocolate tendrils falling into his face. 
“You know I don’t need anything. Just you, angel. But I wanted to do something special for you because you deserve it.” 
I left a firm but quick kiss on his lips, muttering against them. “Thank you, Noah.” 
He smiled while motioning behind me. “Come on, let's eat.” 
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“Fuck, Noah,” I moaned when his tongue licked up the patch of skin his teeth grazed. 
My nails dragged down his bare chest, leaving red marks along his tattoos, as he continued to slam his cock into me, the couch beneath us scraping along the wood floors. 
“So tight. I missed you,” he groaned into the crook of my neck as his hips stilled. 
I knew he was close but also knew that he didn’t want it to end yet. What started as a nice romantic dinner turned into a heavy make out session on the couch. Neither of us could wait any longer and needed to be connected once again. 
His fingers brushed along the folds of my pussy and I shook with the feeling as he slowly dragged his cock all the way out, only leaving the tip inside. 
“Noah,” I whined while raising my hips. “Please.” 
His teeth dragged along my nipples. “Please what?” 
I raked my nails through his hair and yanked back causing Noah to let out a loud hiss. “Fuck, angel.” 
“Stop teasing me and fuck me, Noah. Please.” 
My screams echoed throughout the apartment when he buried his cock deep witin me again, his pace becoming ruthless. But our position on the couch wasn’t the greatest, I needed to be able to feel him even deeper. We couldn’t make it to the bedroom when we first started and there was no way I was going to stop this now. 
Noah could tell I needed something different because with one strong arm, he lifted me from the couch to carry me over to the kitchen table. I squealed in delight as I writhed in his embrace. 
“What are you doing?” I asked as he made me lean back. 
He brushed back the sweat slicked hair from his forehead and licked his lips. “I need a taste of you.” 
With a tight grip on my thighs, he spread my legs wide apart before he knelt between them. The warmth of his tongue sent shockwaves to my entire system as he lapped up the remnants of my previous orgasm he gave me on the couch and I arched off the table when he began sucking on my clit. 
“Shit, Noah. I’m going to-.” 
With two fingers spearing me wide open before pumping in fast succession and his mouth sucking on my sensitive nub, I let the shock of my orgasm tear through me with such a force that it nearly took my breath away. 
“Such a good girl,” Noah mused while laying a kiss on the inside of my thigh. “I missed the way you taste.” 
I only had a few minutes to breath before he was yanking me off the table to now stand on my feet. He patted my ass. 
“Lean your hands against the window,” he nodded towards the patio door. 
“What-?” I shuffled on my feet. 
Noah’s lips attacked mine in a ravenous kiss and when he pulled away, he brushed my arousal off of his lips with his thumb. His bracelet and necklace glinted in the light from the lamppost outside. 
“Be a good girl, Y/N, and do what I say,” his voice was as dark as his eyes. 
Not wanting to disappoint, I quickly made my way over to the patio door that led out to our balcony and rested my psalm against the glass.Thankfully we shut off all but one of the lights so no one would be able to peer up into our apartment and see what we were doing.
"Keep your hands on the window," he demanded and then yanked my hips back to him so I was bent over. 
Nodding furiously, I spread my hands against the window of the patio door when his cocked slipped inside of me again, his name falling off my lips in a prayer. 
“That’s right, pray to your king,” Noah rasped as he bit down on my shoulder. 
One tattooed arm wrapped around my stomach while the other tightened around my throat to bring my chest against his back, this new angle making my vision blurry. It felt so good, the burn, and Noah knew how bad I needed it to hurt. 
 He squeezed until I felt the air being ripped away from me, his cock slamming into me with no sign of stopping. He never held back and I never wanted him too.  I needed it to hurt, needed it to burn, that I wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow.
When I felt the darkness creeping to the corners of my eyelids due to how tight he was gripping my throat, I let out a choked moan. 
“Safe word?” he muttered into my ear before kissing the skin behind there. 
Although his voice was soft and concerning, the way he fucked me was completley different. 
I did my best to shake my head with his tight grip around my throat. “Keep. Going. So. Close.” 
Noah eased his grip a bit so I could take a deep breath before he tightened it again. My orgasm was so close, I just needed a little something to have it wash over me. As my hand moved to my clit, Noah smacked my ass, the sound echoing through our apartment. Instead, his thumb pressed circles against my clit and that was exactly what I needed to let my orgasm finally release from the tightness of my body. I came with such vigor on Noah’s cock he groaned into my hairline. 
“Such a good girl,” he praised while letting go of the vice grip around my throat. 
Gulping for hair, I nodded. “Yes.” 
Nails dug into the skin of my hips as Noah’s pace became even more frantic, him chasing his own release, and I was so far gone in my post orgasmic haze that I nearly didn’t hear the two words he said. 
“Wh-what?” I stuttered. 
Noah’s hips stilled for a beat before he let out a deep, guttural groan when he spilled his warm release into me. 
“Marry me.” 
Before my body could fall into a heap to the ground, Noah lifted me to sit me on the edge of our kitchen island. His large hand cupped my cheek so I had no choice but to gaze upon him. His pupils were blown wide due to our actions and his chest rose and fell as he did his best to catch his breath. His warm cum dripped down my legs onto the cold marble beneath me but I didn’t dare think about the mess. I only thought about those two words. 
“What did you say?” I asked, still breathless. 
“Marry me,” Noah said again without an ounce of hesitation. 
Everything around us seemed to fall away, the eerie quiet of the apartment now ringing loudly in my ears. My heart beat loudly in my chest that I could feel it in my throat when I realized how sincere Noah was. This wasn’t a joke, he meant those words. 
As if he thought I was doubting him, he ripped open our junk drawer in the kitchen to pull out a small velvet box and my breath caught in my throat. 
“Fuck, you’re serious?” I choked out. 
Noah smiled wickedly as he opened the box, the light above the kitchen sink catching the diamond almost instantly. The gold band was thin but the oval shape of the diamond almost sat perfectly against it. 
“With you, Y/N. I’ve never been more serious about anything,” he said. 
My throat burned in the best way. Never in this lifetime did I ever expect to have such a romantic Valentine's Day. Guys in my past never gave a shit, especially Jacob, so to have Noah go all out was something I wasn't used too but knowing he loved me so much made my heart swell. 
I began to nod wildly. “Fuck yes!” 
With a laugh, Noah collided our lips together in a fever kiss before reluctantly pulling away to slide the ring onto my finger. 
“I didn’t mean to have a cliche proposal on Valentine's day. I planned on asking you if you came overseas but I couldn’t risk not asking you before,” Noah explained. 
I wrapped my legs around his naked form to bring him closer to me and I hung my arms around his neck. We were still naked and the cool air from the open window brushed along our heated skin. 
“I’m coming with you.” 
Noah’s eyes lit up. “You are?” 
“Yeah, I need a break and now that we’re engaged, I think we need to celebrate,” I waved the hand with the ring in front of his face playfully. 
He grasped it to leave a kiss upon the ring. “Say no more, angel.” 
My squeals bounced off the walls of our home as Noah carried me into our bedroom to start our engagement celebrations.
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disillusioneddanny · 4 months
Text
People Watching (Jason/Danny)
Jason leaned back in his seat at the bookshop, his eyes no longer on his book but the couple in front of him.  They were around college age, from what Jason could see. He had started watching them when blond girl started laughing at a joke until she started to cry. It hadn’t been an all that funny joke, either but it was cute the way she seemed to hang on the brunet man’s every single word. From what Jason got from their eavesdropping, they had been together for four years. Or well, forty nine months since they had decided to loudly count out the months. 
She had a ring on her finger but she still called him her boyfriend. And they had talked about meeting in some class, metaphysical philosophy, the guy had supplied. Jason’s heart felt light as he listened to them, he was happy for them, he was. 
It was why he was watching them, why he was listening to the guy, his name was Jeremy, apparently, as he teased Hannah, the blond, about how she acted around the holidays. His heart felt light and he felt a longing that he recognized so insanely intimately. It was the same ache that he got any time he spent time people watching. 
He wanted to feel all that love and emotion for himself one day. Dreamt of the day that he would be able to be attached to the person he was holding, not just having someone warm his bed for the night. He wanted to fall without caution, to be so utterly in love with someone that he laughed at their bad jokes.  
He didn’t know if that would ever actually happen for him, though. How could it when he had screwed up so many things in his life? He had died, come back, become a murderer, a crime lord and practically ruined any chance he had at a normal life. Jason had dreams once upon a time, hopes that he wanted to accomplish one day. He had wanted to go to college and fall in love like the couple in front of him had. That wasn’t in the cards, though, not for someone who was still considered legally dead. 
“They’re so cute it’s disgusting,” a voice said with a snort. Jason looked up from his book to find someone taking a seat beside him on the plush couch, a coffee mug wrapped in their hands. “But yet, I still always get wistful when I see couples like that,” they said softly. 
“Yeah, me too,” Jason said quietly, picking up his mug of tea. 
“I’m Danny,” the man said as Jason took a moment to look over his new people watching partner. He was just a little shorter than Jason, dark black hair was pulled back into a bun at the back of his head. Jason could just barely see a hint of a tattoo peeking out from the collar of Dnany’s shirt. But the thing that really got him, was the crystal blue eyes that seemed to shine in the low lights of the cheesy hipster coffee shop they were sitting in.
“Jason,” the vigilante said with a small smile. “So, I’m assuming you’re a people watcher too?”
Danny let out a hum. “I suppose, I mean, I’m only looking just to live through them vicariously. I’ve never really been in love, at least not seriously,” he said quietly, his eyes glued to the couple, a familiar longing in his eyes. 
Jason gave him a small, tentative smile. “No I get it,” he said with a soft laugh as he looked back at the couple, the man now holding the woman’s hand in his and staring at her like she was the only person in the world. “I have a problem with cutting people out if they get too close. I end up all alone each time, but for some reason I just keep hoping that I’ll find it one day.”
Danny nodded and took a sip of his coffee before he looked over at Jason and gave him a kind smile. “It’s scary,” he admitted quietly. “To let someone get so close, to let them love you, even the bad parts of you that you try to keep hidden away.”
“It is,” Jason admitted, carefully closing his book, taking note of the page he had left it on. “It’s funny, I read so many romance novels, I love romantic comedies but to actually allow myself to feel vulnerable like that in my day to day life? It’s fuckin’ terrifying.”
At that, his new friend let out a soft laugh and nodded his head. “It’s so scary to let someone know me. It’s just so much safer to just not allow people to get close and know all of my secrets. But at the same time,  it’s all just so monotone and lonely,” he said, his eyes still shining with an unspoken sadness. 
Jason knew what he was going to say next was going to sound cheesy as fuck. Knew that there was a chance that Danny was going to laugh in his face. But he had to try, had to just give himself a moment to shoot his shot and see if maybe it would work. How could it not? Even if Danny didn’t know Jason’s exact problems or hangups, he still understood where Jason was coming from. Knew just as well at how terrifying it was to let someone know him. 
“I know we just met, and I started this conversation in a really depressing way,” Danny started, turning to fully look at Jason. “But I actually came over here to get to know you. I saw you when I was ordering my coffee and I just, I wanted to get to know you,” he said before his face turned a bright red as he looked down at his coffee and blushed. “I’m sorry, I’m being weird.”
“No,” Jason said with a small smile. “You’re not, not at all. I’d like to keep talking to you. You get it,” he said, feeling his own cheeks heat up slightly at the admission. 
“I get it,” Danny asked, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Jason just snorted and shook his head. “What are you reading?”
“Anna Karenina,” Jason admitted, showing the cover. “It’s considered one of the greatest pieces of literature ever written.”
Danny smiled, a beautiful thing showing off dimples in his cheeks. “Tell me about it? I’ve never read it.”
A wide grin spread on Jason’s face as he launched into an in depth summary about Anna Karenina and why it was one of his favorite novels of all time. 
Somehow a coffee meet cute turned into a coffee date, and then a coffee date turned into a dinner date. The dinner date led to Danny inviting Jason over for dinner and a movie. And that led to book dates and movie dates, it turned into spending more days at Danny’s house than he did at his safe houses. It led to nights in bed, the lights out and the blankets over their heads as they learned each others deepest secrets, whispering childhood stories and childhood traumas to one another in the safety of the dark. 
Jason found himself falling more and more as each day passed by. He found himself holding Danny in his arms as he dreamed about a house behind a picket fence, and started building a home for himself in Danny’s embrace. 
“I love you,” was whispered between the two of them late at night. Soon Jason found himself meeting Danny’s family, a sister and two best friends who were like siblings to him. And Danny found himself being dragged to the manor to meet the insane hoard of siblings and an emotionally repressed father. 
Secrets were passed between them, talks about their deaths, their lives as teen heroes, the desire to just have something normal. That led to the agreement of being one another’s something normal. 
It eventually led to Jason moving into Danny’s home, boxes carried between them and friends as they unpacked Jason’s things and melded their lives together. 
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Danny said with a laugh as he fell onto the couch beside Jason, throwing a blanket over their legs after. He smiled as he held out his hand to show off the silver band that Jason had just given him hours before. 
“I can’t believe you walked up to a random stranger to talk about people watching and it led to this,” Jason murmured, nipping at Danny’s earlobe. Danny snorted and turned his head to give the vigilante a soft kiss. 
“Worth it,” he murmured, cupping Jason’s face in his hands. “Completely and absolutely worth it.”
“I love you, Danny Todd,” Jason murmured, rubbing his nose against Danny’s.  
“I love you too, Jason Todd,” Danny whispered, his lips a hair’s breadth away from Jason’s. “Thanks for letting me in.”
Jason just smiled. “Thanks for not cutting me out,” he murmured before closing the distance between them and kissing his husband deeply.
Come chat with me on the new DPxDC 18+ SFW Discord Server! Dm me for an invite if you're 18 or older<3
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