#Blind date | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

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 🎶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

______

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

My Masterlist!

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

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one-time-i-dreamt · 6 months

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I went on a blind date with Nicki Minaj. Her mom was there with us for some reason.

#dream #text #nicki minaj #blind date #mom #mother #dating #family #date

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where-dreamers-go · 26 days

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"Cheesy" Leon Kennedy x Reader

(A/N: What if you were set up on a blind date with Leon Kennedy? This is extremely self indulgent. You could picture any age of Leon, I guess. Also, Reader works at a school in this.

Warnings: awkward/nervous interactions, use of (Y/N), (mx), and (Y/L/N) for your names, pizza topping preference for cheese, language, and mentions of Leon’s arms.

Word Count: 4,085 words)

~~~

Your friend knew people, could network like no other.

But set you up on a blind date?

You were anxious. Curious, but nervous at the thought of going on a first date with someone you had never met.

Your friend knew you well enough. Knew some of your preferences in a partner. A good amount.

You hoped.

They had gotten your permission to try finding someone.

“Stop giving me that look.” Your friend laughed. “I’ve only heard good things.” They sipped from their cup of coffee.

“Only good things?” You asked.

They crossed their arms. Staring at you from the other side of the table.

“Well, I mean…like what? What’s his name? What’s he look like? Does he know my name?”

They laughed and nodded. “He knows your name.”

“And?” You leaned over your lunch.

“He has a steady job, his name is Leon, he’s interested, and you’ll like what you’ll see. That’s all I’m saying.”

“But is he nice? Clean?”

“Yes and listen, I basically asked fifty question before fully considering this guy. And he had agreed to the pizza place you suggested.”

“Oh. Okay, cool.”

“Everything’s set for Saturday.” They beamed.

You exhaled hoping to calm yourself from the news.

Maybe this’ll be fun.

. . .

Saturday afternoon and the lunch rush was on its way.

Thankfully, you managed to arrive early. You could not think of arriving to your destination any later.

Nerves and excited curiosity filled you.

The pizza was one of your favorites. Kind staff, good food, and a chill atmosphere. A nice small restaurant for a date. Nothing fancy and you would be able to hear your own conversation.

At least I picked a Saturday, you thought, Friday evenings are wild. Especially right after school.

Entering through the front door, you did a quick glance around the small waiting area. The smell of fresh pizza was a welcome delight.

Definitely not them, you thought as you watched two families trying to shush their children. Probably waiting on someone.

Squeezing by, you walked up to the server station. The little podium looking thing no one was standing behind.

You waited a moment.

And breathe. This isn’t a job interview or anything.

Running your hands over your clothes, you were still happy with your choice of outfit. A flattering soft of casual.

“Hi. Welcome,” a young woman rushed up to stand behind the station. “Sorry for the wait. How many today?”

“Two,” you said. “I’m meeting someone.”

A flicker of thought shown in her eyes and she asked, “Are you (Y/N)?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah.” You answered, clearly surprised.

“Is your date’s name Leon?” A small smile peaked the corners of her lips.

“Yeah…”

I thought they didn’t do reservations.

She walked around the station and gestured toward the dining room. “Right this way, please.”

Wait. Can I pick for a booth or somewhere not by the restrooms? Who would make the reservation? You thought as you followed her.

A good amount of the tables had hungry guests chewing between conversations. None too obnoxious.

Still, the woman led you forward, blocking some of your view.

You were starting to get the feeling you weren’t early enough.

Coming to a stop by a booth, the young woman turned enough to speak to you and a man who stood up upon your arrival.

“Here we are. Do you know what you two would like to drink or should I give you a minute?”

Locking gazes with the man, you swallowed.

You really wished your friend would had told you how handsome your date was.

You blinked and answered, “Ice water.”

“Uh, water, please.” He said and cleared his throat.

You caught the server’s smirk.

“All right. I’ll give you some time to look over the menu and I’ll be back.” She left with her notepad.

The last window along the wall illuminated the man’s brown hair and expressive blue eyes.

“I’m Leon,” he said and offered a small smile, “hi.”

“Hi, I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to meet you.” You gave a smile of your own and a small wave you wished you hadn’t.

“Yeah—uh. I’m glad we could do this.” Leon glanced over to the booth and gestured quickly.

The both of you took your seats across from each other. Two menus lay on the table between.

Maybe he’s nervous too.

“So,” Leon tapped the menu, “I have to ask… What’s your favorite topping?”

“Not pineapple.”

“Oh, good,” he chuckled, exhaling some tension. “I wasn’t sure if we were going to have a debate on our hands.”

“I hope not. I’ve always preferred extra cheese. You?”

“I’m not too picky. I like pepperoni. We could—”

“One water and one ice water.” The server placed each glass on its own paper coaster. “Do you know what you’d like to order?”

Crap. You thought and eyed the menu.

“Would you like to share a pizza?” Leon asked. “Half cheese half pepperoni?” His blue eyes holding a soft kindness within.

Here come the butterflies. You took a steady breath and nodded.

“What size?” She asked, holding her tiny notepad.

“Medium?” You looked to Leon.

“Medium.” He agreed while glancing over to the server’s notepad.

“Alright.” She tapped her pen.

“Thank you.” You said as the server left again and took the menus.

That was fast.

Taking a long sip of the water, you were grateful for the coolness. A nice refresh to ease you and cool you down.

Because your date was hot. Simple as that and yet you were still taking time to process the fact: you were on a date.

No weird vibes. That’s good. You thought as you set the glass down. And he got here before me! Peering up, you saw your date glancing around the dining room.

When he caught you looking, Leon smiled. “This place is nice. Do you come here often?”

His words made you crack a smile. “A little bit. Not as often as I used to.” You lowered your voice and added, “I usually make my own pizza now.”

Lighting up with interest, Leon leaned his arms on the table. Quite muscular arms shown well with his button-up shirt.

“You make your own pizza? It’s better than any takeout, huh?”

“Not gonna lie,” you sat a little taller, “the dough’s a lot better and no grease on top.”

“Sauce preference?”

“Family recipe. Homemade.”

Leon grinned. Clearly you were making an impression.

The butterflies in your stomach returned tenfold.

“Favorite cheese?”

You crossed your arms over the table and thought on it. “My favorite cheese…is whatever I have at home.”

That earned you a snicker from your date.

“Have you made pizza before?” You tried your hand at a question.

Food was an easy topic it seemed. Pizza mostly.

Hair shielded some of his face as he tilted his head, Leon squinted his face and admitted, “I’ve made pizza orders.”

“So, no?”

“No.” He affirmed. “I should.”

“Maybe one day.”

He nodded softly.

So far, Leon was easy to talk to. Your date thus far would rank less awkward than talks you’ve had with overly curious neighbors. You were more than grateful for that.

And he has a really cute smile. You thought as silence filled the table.

“How are you?”

“What?” Leon perked up as if the question caught him completely off guard.

Perhaps it did.

“How are you?” You asked again, trying to put all of your honesty into your tone.

Exhaling, he turned his sights out the window, but only for a moment. “Better than I expected.” His blue eyes held your gaze. “I’ve never been convinced to go on a blind date before.”

You were surprised with how relieved you were with his answer.

“This is your first blind date too?” You whispered.

Both of you took a moment to read the other. Making sure and double checking. Learning through observation.

Once Leon nodded, you sat back with a relieved exhale.

“Oh, thank goodness. I thought it was just me. My friend wouldn’t even answer all my questions.” You laughed lightly at yourself. “I’ve been making myself nervous.”

“Is that a rule?” Leon asked. “My friends refused to tell me shit.”

Covering your mouth, you muffled some of your laughter. Mostly, anyway.

Sitting back against the seat with a light affectionate smile, Leon managed to look twice as handsome and twice as comfortable. It made you start to wonder why he didn’t already have a partner.

Then again, he was probably having a similar question.

“What questions did you ask? No judgement.”

“No judgement.” He repeating, thinking.

Bring it on. We need to know more about each other. More than just pizza anyway, you thought while drinking more water and waiting for the pizza.

“Yah know, I asked what you’re like first. It’s a good start.”

“Good question.” You said, partially stalling as you thought to answer. “I’m…a hard worker, creative, uh…,” you trailed off. “I sound like my résumé.”

He smiled and said, “I won’t ask for references. Promise.”

“I’m really honest and empathic. I make a lot of movie references. My friends say I’m funny, but that’s really based on preference…and timing.”

“I believe them.”

“Thank you.” You wiped your hands on your attire, out of sight. “So what were your other questions?”

“What do you do for a living?”

You perked up. Glad to have an easy question. “I work at a school.”

His eyebrows rose a fraction.

“I’m essentially in charge of the media center—all the books, book faire, and some tech. It’s not what I planned, but I like it.”

“Do you like to read?”

“Yeah. My reading list keeps growing though. Not that I mind.” You said, noticing how his hair framed his face, a balance of soft and sharp. “What about you?”

Blue eyes flickered away. “Not really. Work takes up a lot of time.” Leon seemed to be drifting away, mind elsewhere.

“What do you do for a living?” You asked softly, just in case.

Tension in his jaw fully took away his smile.

Is this a touchy subject?

Leon’s voice was hushed and somehow almost distant. “I work for the government.”

“Oh.”

Returning his gaze to you, Leon gauged your reaction.

“Sounds like a lot of e-mails.” You tried lightening the mood.

I don’t think he likes his ‘steady job’.

The corner of his lips lifted.

Okay cool. He doesn’t think what I said was stupid. Cool.

“Well, um,” you swallowed and hoped you weren’t being too awkward, “as long as your co-workers treat you like a person and not tech support.”

Multiple emotions ran across Leon’s face, none of which you could read fast enough. What you could discern was how the tension left his muscles. A mystery really, your date.

“I’m not the first one they’d call to help with a computer.”

“Maybe for good company?” You offered.

In midst of leaning closer, Leon’s attention veered over to movement at the far end of the dining room.

Walking into the room with a pan in one hand and a tray under her other arm, your server returned with another employee. Steam rose from the pizza more clear as she reached the booth.

“Here we are.” She announced happily.

Before either you or Leon could offer help, the young woman set up the tray beside the table in a swift motion.

“Be careful. It’s hot.” She set the pizza pan on the tray.

The other employee placed a pair of plates on the table along with a pizza server and a pile of napkins.

A couple of ‘thank you’s later and you were both left alone with a delicious smelling pizza. Seriously, the two of you were eyeing the pie with hungry intent.

“That smells good.” Leon grabbed the pizza server and reached over to the pizza. “One cheese pizza slice comin’ up.” A playful side shone through easily.

“Thank you,” you said as he plated a slice.

Oh, no. He’s cute, you thought, glad he didn’t see whatever silly grin was plastered on your face.

Out of habit or restaurant routine, you grabbed the shaker of cheese. You took a second to make sure the lid was secure. Then, despite the hot cheese all over the wonderful slice, you shook a generous amount of parmesan on top and a dash more.

You hadn’t lied about favoring cheese.

And apparently you and your date were equally craving a taste of pizza. By bite number two your eyes met for a second.

Trying to hide a smile while chewing was an oddly clumsy human act. Awkward during a date, but humble none the less.

Behind you and out of view, children spoke animatedly entering the dining room. Kid drama and discussing characters. Common conversations held even in school. You had heard plenty from students. Some more entertaining than others.

You took another bite of the pizza.

“(mx). (Y/L/N),” a young voice came from close by.

Quickly swallowing, you glanced over to a familiar face.

“Hi,” the little girl waved, perched backwards in a chair.

You gave a friendly wave with your free hand. A movement watched by the child and her two tables’ worth of family members.

So was the life of working at an elementary school.

The girl pointed and asked, “Is he your friend?” Curious eyes on your date.

Behind the girl, a woman looked at the girl with wide eyes and glanced to you with an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry.” She said. “Lottie, turn around please.”

“I finished the book.”

“That’s great,” you replied earnestly. “I hope you liked it.”

“Kinda.”

“Oh,” you chuckled lightly. “Well, I hope you like your food more.”

Grinning, Lottie, sat properly in her seat. All attention reverting to whatever was just passed her nose; her family included.

“Sorry about that.” You turned to see your date with an amused expression.

“No need. Thought she was going to give you review.”

“Same here.” You reached for your pizza slice again. “I think hers was about cats or kittens. Something.”

“Are there any books you’d recommend to someone who doesn’t read much?”

Now that was a question you liked to hear.

“Are you more into fiction or non-fiction books?”

“Fiction.” He took a sip from his water.

“Hmm.” You were left with more questions of his preferences. “I think I need to know a bit more about you first before I can recommend one just yet.”

“Fair enough. Ask away.” Leon finished off a slice and grabbed himself another.

“Okay. Are you an outdoor person?”

“Some days more than others.”

You took another bite of pizza.

“Some times I just want to stay inside. Don’t have to worry about weather or animals.”

“Are you an animal person? I mean—do you like animals?” You shut yourself up with another bite.

“I do. They just live their lives. Unless some…someone leaves a trap out.” A seriousness made his gaze on the table firm.

“Some people are real jerks.”

“Yeah.” He took a quick bite.

“Morning person or night owl?”

“Night owl. When I don’t have to be up early.”

“Sunrises are pretty, but sleep is really nice.”

“You a night owl?”

“Yup. Forced to wake up super early for work. Then go, go, go. No wonder so many people drink coffee.”

“Do you drink coffee?”

“I prefer not to make it a necessity to staying awake. I see people drinking it throughout the day. I can’t imagine doing that. There’s other ways to get energy.”

“Food.”

“Exactly.”

“Want another slice?” Leon asked, pizza server in hand.

“Sure, thank you.”

“Can’t let someone as hard-working and cute as you go hungry.”

He plated the slice onto your plate as you felt heat start at your neck.

“Thank you.” Your voice almost hushed in sound.

Small smile on his lips, Leon handed you the shaker full of cheese. The tips of his fingers brushed yours before retreating to his pizza.

Crap. What were we talking about? You swallowed and added more cheese to your new pizza slice.

“So, uh… How would you describe yourself?”

Leon thought on it for a moment or two, eating pizza. Dark eyebrows pinching together as he considered an answer.

Honestly, you deeply needed to know what Leon was like. To know if he was friend material and more.

Shifting in his seat, Leon answered, “Loyal to ones I care about. A little too hard-working.”

“Dedicated?”

“Yeah.” He ripped off a piece of the pizza crust. “Helpful, protective… This is a hard question.”

“It is.”

“I try to be optimistic.” He added.

“That’s good. Some times it’s really hard. Even on what’s suppose to be a good day. It’s a part of life. Some days suck and others surprise you in a good way.”

A silent exchange of understanding passed between the pair of you, deep and dense.

Slices of pizza slowly disappeared from the pan as the date continued more strongly. Less awkward and more fun. Bouncing questions back and forth while being a little too honest with answers. Laughter really was contagious.

Time passed well into the lunch rush and the two of you remained in the booth. Sharing and reminiscing taste in music and movies continued longer than some people’s stay in the dining room.

A conversation of one specific movie had you two in a passionate exchange of words. Both leaning close and speaking animatedly.

“And people probably think we’re only looking at the decorations to call it a Christmas movie.”

“They’re not use to action in Christmas movies,” Leon added.

“Only the family drama.”

“Yeah.”

“But that’s a part of why it’s a Christmas movie. They’re apart in the beginning, they work through their problems, and—bam—they’re together in the end with better understandings of each other.”

“And it ends with Christmas music. It’s great.”

“She also punched the reporter guy.”

“He had it coming.”

“Kind of satisfying. Not gonna lie.”

Leon chuckled.

“Okay,” you spoke up. “Random question.”

He nodded.

“Can you speak more than one language?”

“Sí.”

“Bueno.” You smirked along with him.

Eyes roaming the sight in front of you, you tried not to be distracted by what of Leon’s muscles you could see defined from his nice shirt. It wasn’t even tight fitting. Plus it was a nice color on him.

Does he have to workout for his job? Or is he the best looking in the building by chance? You thought as you reached for your glass of water, condensation cool against your fingertips.

Until it wasn’t.

“No.”

The glass fumbled from your grasp and the last of the melted ice water spilled onto your thigh.

“Whoa.” Leon already had napkins in his hand as he leaned over the table. “You okay?”

“It’s cold.” You placed the glass down on the table firmly.

“I bet.” He replied sincerely.

Gratefully, you took the napkins and pressed them onto your leg as well as the seat to absorb as much moisture as possible. They worked as well as thin paper could. Fabric was just too absorbent.

“It’s mostly the side of my thigh. So it’s not too bad.”

“Glad you didn’t get a refill, huh?”

You looked up at him. “Definitely.”

Behind his blue eyes, a flash of disappointment emerged and he said, “You probably want to get going and be dry.” It almost sounded like a question.

“Probably.” Your words didn’t sound too convincing.

A small raise of his hand and Leon signaled over your server. “Hey, can we have two boxes to-go?”

“Sure.”

If you hadn’t been watching you would had missed him handing her the slim black bill folder. He must had slipped a card or cash in there when you weren’t paying attention. Leon was quick, you could give him that.

After the server walked away, you rose an eyebrow at him.

“What? Did you want the pepperoni too?”

“No…”

Shuffling in his seat slightly, he asked, “Do you mind that I paid?”

“More so that you didn’t say anything. I don’t want you thinking it’s what I expect or something. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah. And it’s well notes for next time.”

“Next time?” You perked up. “Are you…wanting a second date?”

“I am.” Leon smiled confidently, hiding most of his nerves.

Your heart beat picked up in your chest.

He likes me? You thought in glee.

“Here we go.” The young woman returned with two descent sized containers. “Is there anything else I can help you two with?” She slid Leon a receipt folded around a card.

“No. I think we’re good.”

“Thank you.” He pocketed his wallet.

“No problem. Have a good day.”

“You too.” You replied to her retreating form.

The pair of you packaged the remaining slices into the containers. Each of you taking one.

Leon grabbed his jacket off of the booth. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” You scooted out from the seat, suddenly more aware of the large wet patch on your thigh.

“Here.” Leon whispered from close behind you. He handed you his jacket. “Hold that there and no one will notice”

“Thank you.”

Grateful and a little flustered, you led the way out of the dining room with your date’s jacket draped over your arm. A shield in hiding your water accident. And that was not even a start of mentioning the man walking behind you. He wasn’t in your space, keeping a respectful distance. Yet you could sense his proximity.

Was it too much for you to consider him even an ounce protective? You weren’t sure.

Two steps away from the exit, Leon deftly slid by you to open the door and hold it for you.

“Thank you.” You stepped out onto the sidewalk and out of the way of the door.

How long were we in there? You wondered at the sight of full parking lot.

Leon came up beside you. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

“True. Cheesy, but true.” You smiled and handed him back his jacket.

“From what I’ve seen, you like extra cheese.”

“Yeah, okay.” You walked further down the sidewalk.

Chuckling happily, Leon went alongside you.

Why did it feel like the date was too short for you?

There were so many more things you wanted to say.

“If it wasn’t for me being a klutz, I’d treat you to either the soft serve ice cream or the place with gelato in town.”

“A gelato and more time with you. That is a treat.” Leon flirted openly.

“So…about a second date.”

Stopping at the edge of the sidewalk, you looked to him with a flutter in your stomach. Luckily, you still had a good grip on your pizza box.

“You’re cute, you know that?”

You ducked your head as a smile immediately appeared.

“Can I have your number so I can call you some time?”

“Only if I can have yours.” You pulled out your cell phone.

“Twist my arm,” he teased sarcastically.

After he fished his phone from his pocket, you both exchanged numbers. Immediately double checking afterwards.

“And I’m not weird with how long or how soon to contact the other person,” you stated. “That’s too complicated for me to keep up with.”

Stepping into the parking lot, you head towards your vehicle with Leon, not far from the building.

“Good to know.”

“And I really had a good time. So thank you.”

The features of his face softened. A twinkle in his eyes revealing his genuine relief and hope. Your words meant something to him.

“Thank you.” He shifted the jacket in his hold. “I wasn’t sure about any of this…until you showed up. I’m glad I came.” Shoulders raising, he made eye contact with you again. “I’d really like to see you again.”

Yes. Yes, yes, yes.

“You can call me later. That way I can check my work-school calendar.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll call you later.” He glanced at your vehicle. “Drive safe, (Y/N).”

“You too.”

He took a step back.

“And Leon?”

He paused, attentive.

“I’m really glad I came too.”

Fully grinning, Leon made his way to his own vehicle. Peeking over to you as he did so.

Why’d I have to be a klutz today?

Even if you had to shorten your time with your date, you were more than happy with how everything turned out. You couldn’t wait to see Leon again. Then, perhaps, you could recommend him a book too.

~~~

Best wishes and happy reading.)

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful.

coffee

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

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#leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy #where dreamers go #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #I just really like the gif okay?#blind date

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satoshy12 · 5 months

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Supergirl and the Phantom Pecs

It all started with a blind date for Kara, where she met Danny. He was a pretty good-looking man. And she liked to spend time with him, as he was funny, and she liked to talk to him. Well, Kara really likes her swimmer boyfriend. His pecs are massive! She gets why people always look at her as a counterpart, Powergirl, or something similar. Danny himself liked to talk to Kara; he hadn't had that much fun since he worked with Walker, which was an easy deal. All his villains are in his prison, with a few extras from the modern world. Danny had a Jack growth spurt, so he packed muscle and is much taller. His suit was even ripped by it, and he couldn't really use a new one. The way it ripped revealed his abdomen and chest. (google Shuumatsu Poseidon)

Wearing a new one It didn't work; he tried it. His ghost form doesn't take the clothes with him when he transforms. And after a while, Danny was too embarrassed to go ghostly anymore, so he rather walked around just like Fenton. And the one time he transformed was to save Kara from an attack by a villain while on a date. Danny:" Are you okay, Kara?" Kara:" Yeah, yeah. Why did you never tell me you could transform?" Danny sees where his girlfriend is looking:" My eyes are up here. And this is the reason." Kara still has her face in his chest:" I know, but still, I like it." Kara really likes her boyfriend's hero costume.

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willixmsonswife · 10 months

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blind date/leah williamson

*leah williamson x fem!reader *what happens if you are on a blind date and stood up by the person you were supposed to meet but a beautiful blonde comes to you rescue? *fluff ig? *1.3k words (1.7k with the bonus) .................................

My first blind date. I don't think I've ever been this nervous. Why did Beth even set me up? I didn't need it. I mean, yeah, I'm not dating anyone at the moment and I'm not good at flirting but did she have to make it that obvious and set me up with someone? I never met that girl and Beth didn't even want to tell me her name. How was I supposed to know who she was?

I sighed before I turned around on my bed, almost falling out of it. My hand reached for my phone, which was laying on the nightstand. In my stress, I dialed the first number that came to my mind. "Hello?" I almost threw my phone across the room. That was not my best friend. "Hello? Is someone there?" I had to answer now, right? "Hi. Eh it's y/n. We met like 2 weeks ago, on that event. I was there with Beth and Viv." I mentally facepalmed myself for calling HER out of all people. The women I've had a crush on for a year now, captain of the Lionesses, Leah Williamson. "Oh yeah y/n, I remember. What's up?" Was that my mind making things up or did her tone change when I said my name? It was probably nothing. "Actually I wanted to Beth. I must've dialed the wrong number sorry for disturbing you." I was about to hang up when I heard her say something. "No no, don't worry you didn't disturb me at all. I was pretty bored actually."

"Oh, okay." My response was followed by an awkward silence. "So what are you up to this evening?" Should I tell her about the blind date? Would she even be bothered to know about it? "I'm actually going on a date."

"Oh you're dating someone? I didn't know that."

"Surprised? Don't you think that people ask me out?" I chuckled as Leah searched for a plausible answer.

"Eh- I- No, I do. It's just-"

"Don't worry, it's just a stupid blind date Beth set me up for. Apparently I'm not capable of finding the 'true love' myself." That made Leah laugh and I couldn't help but join in. Her laugh was really infectious, I had to admit that. "Where does your mysterious date take you, if I'm allowed to know?"

"We're going to the new restaurant in town."

"Oh the Italian one? I only heard good things about it but you'll have to tell me if they're true once you come back."

"I will do that. Alright, I'm gonna have to hang up now. I have to get ready if I wanna be there at 9."

"Well have fun then. It was nice talking to you, maybe we could meet up in the near future?"

"Yeah I would love that. I'll let you know when I'm free. Bye Leah."

"Bye y/n."

That definitely went better than expected but now I really had to get going. I stood up and walked over to my closet. I picked a nice navy blue dress that I hadn't worn in a while and matching high heels. my makeup was done 20 minutes later and my hair only took 15. With enough time to spare, I decided to drive to the restaurant and wait for her there.

.................................

"Hi, I have a reservation at 9 under the name y/l/n."

"Ah yes. Please follow me."

I followed the nice women to our table and sat down. "Would you like to order something to drink while you wait?"

"Yes, just a water please."

And with that she left. I looked around the restaurant and tried to calm my nerves by concentrating on the decoration, the color of the walls, literally anything. I fidgeted with the rings on my fingers while I watched the door carefully as if I could miss her walking in. The waitress came back with my water but I just took one sip before placing it in front of me. The minutes passing felt like hours and I got more and more nervous. Multiple people walked in but they all sat at different tables. Every time I heard the door open, I looked up and hoped that it would be her but it never was. After a while, I looked on my phone and saw that it was already 9:45 pm. She wasn't coming. I felt the entire hope just disappearing with that realization. I got ditched by a person I didn't even know. I did my hair and makeup for nothing. I was excited and stressed for absolutely no reason. Disappointed by how the evening turned out, I leaned down to pick up my purse. That was when I heard a voice. "Sorry that I'm so late. The traffic was awful." I looked up to see the bluest eyes I had ever seen. Wait, I knew those eyes. And that blonde hair. And that voice. "Leah? What the hell are you doing here?" For a second I completely forgot my crush on her and stared at her like she was some alien from outer space. "I'm here to save your night."

"Elaborate please." I leaned back in my chair while she sat down on the one in front of me. "Well your date didn't come, did she?" I shook my head and another wave of disappointment hit me. "Definitely her loss. But anyway, I'm here now. I can't just let you sit at this table, all alone, that would be mean."

"You know when you said 'near future', I thought you meant next week or something but not tonight." She chuckled and I couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, I wasn't planning this either trust me. But let's see where the night brings us, shall we?"

"Alright, fine with me."

.................................

The evening was simply amazing. Leah and I talked about everything and I felt like I was on cloud nine. The food was delicious and the three hours we spent together felt like 10 minutes. She offered to pay but I didn't accept. Instead I paid for both of our meals. As we made our way out of the restaurant, our hands brushed against each other and little fireworks erupted in my whole body. We walked side by side in a comfortable silence until we reached my car. "So this is it, right?" I turned around and looked straight in Leah's eyes. Big mistake. I could feel my cheeks turning crimson red and Leah trying to hide her cheeky smile was just a confirmation that I was blushing. "I guess so." She took a deep breath. "y/n, I really really liked talking to you and all of this felt so, so-" She searched for the perfect word but I already knew it. "Natural?"

"Exactly. That's why I would love to take you out sometime in the near future. And this time I mean next week and not tomorrow night." A big smile made its way onto my face. "I would love that."

"But how about I make it up to you."

"Make what up to me?"

"You paid, so obviously I'm going to give you something back."

"Leah I really don't want your money, I-"

"Oh don't worry, I wasn't talking about money."

Before I could say something, she leaned towards me and my brain just turned off. I felt her soft lips on mine and I instantly knew that it was going to be favorite feeling of all time. I kissed her back and arms made their way around her neck. We only parted when air became a problem but my arms stayed exactly where they were. As soon as we locked eyes and I couldn't help but notice the sparkle in hers. "That was way better than any amount of money."

"I hope so cause I was planning on doing it again." We both smiled at each other and I was sure that this evening couldn't have been any better.

.................................

Bonus:

"Leah are you sure that they're gonna like me?" I anxiously looked at her and she took my hands in hers. "Princess, they're going to like you just as much as I do. I have no idea how they couldn't." She squeezed my hands reassuringly and I felt a part of the nervousness leaving my body. "Alright if you say so. Then let's go." I put a smile on my face and followed Leah into the locker room. She knocked and several women answered. "Come in!" She turned to me one last time and I just nodded, not sure if I could form actual words right now. She opened the door and we stepped inside. "Hi girls, I already told you that I wanted you to meet someone very special to me. This is y/n. My girlfriend." As soon as those words left her mouth I could feel every pair of eyes on me. "Hi, it's so nice to finally meet you." Beth walked to me and engulfed me into a big hug. "Finally! I thought you'd never show yourself here, god." I laughed and hugged her back. After that, I answered a lot of questions from everyone in the room. I also got into a nice conversation with Jen and Katie. We even agreed to meet each other for lunch the next week. All of the stress that I felt before this meeting was totally unnecessary. Everyone was incredibly welcoming and they were all so nice to talk to!

After an hour or so, Leah and I left. We still had to drive home, make dinner and watch the movie she promised me earlier that day. I intertwined our fingers as we walked to the car and started talking about her teammates nonstop until we got to her car. "You were so right, I shouldn't have worried about this. Your teammates are way nicer than you're always saying."

"Oh just wait until you get to know them a bit better. You're gonna be pranked by Katie, Lia is going to spam you with messages and-"

"I absolutely don't care. I love them."

"Well I only hope that you don't love them more than me." She grinned and I couldn't help but tease her a little bit. "Ah I don't know about that. Let's see, shall we?" I got a playful slap on my shoulder in response. "I'm joking babe. I'll always love you more, more than anyone actually."

"I love you too darling."

.................................

this is my first fic on tumblr so I'd be happy about some opinions :) also, i'm taking requests if you have some

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ivymarquis · 4 months

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WIP Wednesday

I fucked off for a good while so I know @direwombat and @g0dspeeed tagged me and I thank them for including me in the fun even if Im a month late to the party 🫡 This is a massive jump in the single mom/blind date verse but the idea reminded me of a story I was told and I couldn’t help but laugh and incorporate it into the overall story. Remember to go to your follow up appointment after a vasectomy, kids

Tagging; @socially-awkward-skeleton @391780 @kneelingshadowsalome @ceilidho @glossysoap @divine--serenity @thanksbutno98 @luminousbeings-crudematter @deadbranch and any moots that I missed ;.;

Kate sits with her coffee in hand, watching as Love settles into the chair across from her, visibly pleased with the prospect of her own coffee.

They’re usually fond of companionable silence, a murmured morning in the greeting (Not good morning, as Love is never a willing morning person), before sticking their noses in their respective tablets and fiddling with emails and tasks despite this supposed to be a time for break.

Kate is neck deep wheeling and dealing as usual when she hears displeased muttering across the table. Glancing up, Love has her coffee in hand and a sour look on her face. “Everything alright?” She asks as the muttering continues.

“I’m going to kill him.”

Kate is not following. “You’re going to what?”

Love has a face as serious as a heart attack, eyes narrowing at Kate across the way. “I’m going to succeed where terrorist cells across the world have failed, and I am going to kill John Price.”

Given Love’s pleasant mood not two minutes ago, Kate can’t help but wonder what the hell happened in such a short time span that John’s landed himself in hot water.

“What’d he do?” Ever nosy, Kate’s penchant for learning everything has served her well at her job.

“I’m fucking pregnant. Again,” she elaborates while gesturing at the coffee with her free hand.

“Ignoring the fact that you announcing you’re going to kill him makes it premeditated- before you go to prison for the murder of a S.A.S. Captain, do you want to,” Kate pauses as she pretends to think, “I dunno, maybe pee on a stick?”

“This,” another gesture to the coffee, “is better than a blood test. The only stick I need is the one I’m going to shove up his ass.”

#one of these days Im gonna make a damn opt in list so I have all the moots in one place #maybe Ill do it when I get home LMAO #my brain is not working if your a moot and you wanna be tagged THIS IS YOUR TAG #john price x reader #blind date #single mom reader #single!mom verse #wip wednesday

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moonyfireheart · 1 year

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wandering and finding cute bookstores is my absolute specialty

#books #reading #aesthetic #books and libraries #bookstore #vintage #old books #blind date #romance #fantasy #booklr #bookshelves #bookshelf

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666frames · 5 months

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Blind Date (1984)

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lillywillow · 4 months

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Blind Double Date

Summary: Your friend Foggy sets you up with his best friend Matt

Written for: @the-slumberparty

Words: 1246

Square Filled: G4- Set Up by Friends

Pairing: Matt Murdoch x Female Reader

Warnings: None

Ever since you first step foot in your Thursday night cooking class, you and Foggy Nelson had been pretty much inseparable. He was funny, really good to talk to and offered great advice if you had a problem. In short, Foggy was like a brother to you. In turn, Foggy had come to see you as a kind of sister. You also both often spoke about your love-lives. Foggy became protective when he heard of guys harassing you and you gave him advice on women.

…

Another Thursday night rolled around and you arrived at your usual spot, waving Foggy over as soon as he walked in.

“Hey, Y/N! How was your date last Friday?” Foggy asked, taking his place next to you.

“Not bad. Not great, but not bad,” you sighed.

“Yeah?”

“He was an okay guy, it’s just… I don’t know. Maybe my romance button is broken or needs resetting or something…” you shrugged, looking over this week’s recipe.

Foggy laughed and looked it over too.

“For what it’s worth, I get what you’re saying. My date last weekend wasn’t all that great either.”

As you started preparing your ingredients, you and Foggy lamented over your failed dates and complained about the state of your romantic lives. Sure, you could cut out the middleman and just date each other but you decided it might get awkward if things went wrong and you still had to come to this class every week. Also, you had become such great friends, the last thing you wanted to do was lose what you had.

“How about we set each other up with dates?” you suggested.

“Sounds good to me… got someone in mind?” he asked, turning down the heat on the cooking appliance.

“You know my friend Gracie?” you prompted, adding your ingredients to the mix.

“Is that the same Gracie that was caught topless sunbathing at what she thought was a nude beach?” he questioned.

“That’s the one,” you grinned.

During your time together, you had told Foggy many stories about your friend Gracie and her various antics.

“Heck yeah! Set that up!” he grinned back.

“What about you? Got someone in mind for me?”

“Sure do. You remember my friend Matt?”

“That’s your law firm partner, right?” you asked.

Foggy often spoke very highly of Matt, and had said a lot about him.

“Yep. How about him?” Foggy suggested.

“Sounds perfect,” you smiled.

“Great! So, I’ll set you up with Matt and you’ll set me up with Gracie.”

As you continued your cooking class, the pair of you discussed the best time for your blind double date.

…

The next night, you and Gracie went to the restaurant that you and Foggy agreed upon at the agreed time. Your friend asked you all sorts of questions while you waited for the two males to arrive.

“Y/N?”

You turned to see Foggy with another man standing behind him. The man was brunette with a little stubble and wearing red glasses. You thought he was quite handsome. Introductions were exchanged and the four of you sat down. From that first moment, Gracie and Foggy made an instant connection, chatting away about this and that but for you and Matt, things were a little different. Connecting with other adults never came easy to you and you had the feeling Matt was a little guarded.

“So, Y/N, Foggy tells me you’re a teacher,” he began, trying to strike up a conversation.

“That’s right. I mostly work with underprivileged kids and those that the school has more or less given up on. I can see these kids trying so hard but so many people have turned their backs on them because they can’t be bothered. I want to show them that there’s someone out there who does care…”

Matt smiled warmly.

“I know what you mean. Foggy and I take on cases for people that society have given up on. It’s like they think the problem will go away on its own rather than deal with it before it gets to breaking point.”

“Exactly!”

With the ice broken, you felt a little more at ease. For you, that was one of the more difficult parts of being set up with a complete stranger; making small talk until you found that connection. The pair of you continued discussing the similarities between your jobs while Foggy and Gracie continued to get along. So well along that they decided to ditch the pair of you to get a room. Feeling a little abandoned by your friend, you started feeling that uneasiness again.

“I get the feeling you want to go home?” Matt asked, picking up on something you were putting out there.

“It’s not that… It’s just… Every time I go on a date lately, I just… I don’t know. Maybe I’m not giving the guys a long enough chance. I mean, how well can you get to know a person over one dinner?”

Matt was silent for a few minutes.

“How about this… we go for a walk, spend a little more time with each other. If at the end of it, you don’t feel anything, you tell me to buzz off, no harm done…” You laughed a little at that. “But if you feel sparks… we can see where this goes,” he suggested.

“I’d really like that…”

…

After paying for your meals, you headed down the street. You held onto Matt’s arm partly as a guide, partly because it made you feel safe. As you walked, you got through all those basic “Getting to know you” questions that were common on a first date but not one did you feel awkward. At one point, you stopped to get some frozen yoghurt from a nice little shop nearby. You read the flavours out to Matt so he could make a decision and described the interior of the shop to him while you sat and ate. When you were finished, Matt walked you to your door.

“So… here we are… What’s the verdict?” Matt grinned.

“Hm, I don’t know… usually the goodnight kiss makes the final cut,” you playfully teased.

“Shall we?” he asked.

Smiling, you gently pressed your lips to his. Matt’s hands made their way to your cheeks, his thumbs stroking your skin. This is what you had built up in your head; a great date ending with the perfect kiss. His hands didn’t roam, his breath was fresh and you could feel butterflies in your stomach. This is everything you were looking for. As you pulled away, you had a dreamy smile on your face.

“So… is this the part you tell me to buzz off?”

You laughed and playfully punched his chest.

“No. That… that was a really good kiss,” you breathed.

“Do you want to see where this goes?” he asked.

“I do, Matt… I really do…”

After saying your goodbyes, Matt waited to make sure you were safe inside before heading off.

…

The following Thursday, you and Foggy celebrated over your successful dates for the night as you started cooking. Neither of you could believe your luck that you both walked away from what could have been awkward blind dates with potential new relationships. You couldn’t wait to see where they would lead you.

#navy and roo's sleepover #navy and roo sleepover #marvel #marvel one shot #matt murdock x reader #Set up by Friends #Blind Double Date #Blind Date #foggy nelson #matt murdock

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newyorkthegoldenage · 5 months

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Soldiers, sailors, and women milling about in the lobby of the Roxy Theater on November 28, 1941, each seeking his or her opposite number on a mass blind date party. Each wore a number. The women were sent by the New York City Defense Recreation Committee.

Photo: AP via News19

#vintage New York #1940s #World War II #mass dating #servicemen #blind date #Nov. 28 #28 Nov.#vintage NYC #home front

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janetbrown711 · 3 months

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Tonight at Eight

Both Pigsy and Tang have blind dates tonight at eight, and there surely isn't anything suspicious about that at all

Ao3 Link

Pigsy dried off a chili-sauce stained bowl with a well worn washcloth and an eye heavy on the clock. It was barely 3:00 pm, but all Pigsy could think about was how he was closing up shop around 6:30 for a very, very important… date.

Heavens, it felt so embarrassing to admit to himself. Here he was, ill-tempered Pigsy, owner of the well-loved business Pigsy’s Noodles, father of a five-year-old, someone fully convinced his life had ended ten years ago, going on a date.

It felt childish, and it didn’t help that he’d basically dropped the idea of romance and love since Sandy–

No, he wasn’t going to think about that. He had something good to look forward to for once, and he wasn’t going to let the past ruin it… yet. Maybe. Who knows?

Pigsy sighed, adding the bowl to the clean pile and scolding himself for acting like such a teenager. He had work to do.

“You alright, Pigsy?” Tang asked innocently from his place at the bar.

Pigsy went to answer, but instead his grandmother laughed from the booth where she and Xiaotian were sitting.

“Jiejie is planning on closing early today for a ‘special event’.” She grinned at her grandson, who felt like he could just die at this point, but decided scrubbing the grill would be more productive.

“What? Psh, that’s impossible! Everyone knows Pigsy would rather die than close before ten,” Tang teased with a cheeky grin that made the chef roll his eyes.

“Bullying is reserved for family or paying customers, Tang,” Pigsy retorted.

“I’ll pay his tab then, Jiejie. Goodness knows that boy needs some meat on his bones.” His grandmother snorted and Tang turned pink, all while Xiaotian giggled.

“So– um–” Tang cleared his throat to ease off the embarrassment, “What’s this ‘special event’?”

His grandmother scoffed again and joined Tang by the bar, which Xiaotian was quick to follow with his crayons and coloring book in tow. “Good luck getting an answer out of him. He won’t even tell me.”

Pigsy rolled his eyes. “Can’t a man have privacy anymore?”

“Ahhhh, but if you don’t tell me, what will I talk about with the ladies at mahjong?” His grandmother shook her head, which made Xiaotian giggle more.

“Oh, does that mean it's something embarrassing?” Tang fully hopped onto the teasing bandwagon.

“No, it just means it’s personal, is all,” Pigsy huffed, eyeing a customer as they walked in, and made his way to the register.

Tang laughed before his eyes went to his book. “Well, if it helps, I’m going to do something totally stupid and embarrassing tonight too.”

At that, Pigsy’s grandmother’s eyes lit up, and she took Tang’s hands into hers. “Like what? Dancing? One of those American rodeos? What?”

“Ah, well–”

“Sir? I’m ready to order,” said the woman across the cashier, and Pigsy shook his head to focus.

“Right, right– what can I get for you?” he forced a customer-friendly smile.

The woman ordered some beef chow fun, and by the time Pigsy started cooking again, Tang was on the brink of a confession.

“Come on, after all the meals I’ve bought for you? To support that big brain of yours? It’s bad enough little Jiejie is acting like his father right now.” She shot a dramatic glare at the chef, before turning back to Tang. “Must you add to my pile of old-womanly misery?”

“Alright, alright, fine. I’m… Heavens, this really is stupid, Miss Xiahui.” Tang covered his face with his hands before taking a breath. “I’m… going on a blind date with someone I’ve never met, and I don’t know what they look like, or what their name is, or literally anything else. I’m going to get murdered, aren’t I?” Tang blurted out, making the chef’s grandmother laugh.

“I’m very excited for you, dear! You know, I’ve been trying to get Jiejie to sign up for one of those ever since he dumped Wujing, but does he take my advice? No!” She gave an exasperated sigh.

“Not true. I opened up this place because of you,” Pigsy retorted from where he stood by the stove.

“Oh, sure, but when it comes to clothes or photos or vacations or even a park I think Xiaotian would like it’s all ‘oh that’s too far,’ or, ‘I’m dressed fine’ or even, ‘this makes me look ancient’,” she snipped right back.

“I know you never left the forties, Lǎolao, but the rest of the world has.” Pigsy rolled his eyes.

His grandmother sighed again. “You see what I put up with Tang? No respect! And I actually deserve it, unlike some people.”

“R-right! Well– at least no matter what, we know that my night’s plans are definitely more embarrassing than Pigsy’s, so…” Tang fiddled with his sleeves like he always did when he was nervous.

“A night of romance is nothing to be embarrassed about. Why, my late husband used to take me out dancing at this old French-style café– I think it was destroyed by the Red Guard though, which is a real shame, you know, it was the romantic spot in the city.” She sighed dreamily.

“That sounds wonderful, Miss Xiahui. My date and I are just meeting at this one restaurant by the park” Tang smiled and got back to his noodles.

“If I didn’t know you any better, I’d say you’re ruining your appetite,” Pigsy’s grandmother chuckled.

“Can’t let him know I’m a complete mess, right?” Tang laughed pathetically.

Pigsy rolled his eyes and teased, “Don’t be so hard on yourself. I think it’s fascinating you can eat so much and manage to keep that whole ‘starving Victorian orphan’ look.”

Tang snorted. “Thanks.”

Pigsy winked and laughed before going back to check on how the noodles were doing.

“Oh, don’t mind Jiejie, he’s just jealous because he hasn’t had a date in six years.” The elderly woman patted Tang’s knee.

“For your information, I actually do have a date, and it's tonight, so you can cut out that whole teasing routine,” Pigsy quipped without thinking, and he could practically hear his Lǎolao’s jaw drop and eyes sparkle.

“You have a date tonight too?! Oh, this is just wonderful! Who’s the lucky person? Are they rich? Do they know you have your own business? Have you gone out with them before? Were they cute? Why wouldn’t you tell me about them! Jiejie, how could you not tell me you’ve been dating someone–! Are they actually ugly, and you were embarrassed to tell me? Look, it’s okay, Jiejie, sometimes it really is what’s on the inside that–”

“Lǎolǎo, please.” Pigsy turned and pleaded with her, pouring the customer’s noodles into a bowl and adding the vegetables.

“Oh, Jiejie, I’m just so happy for you, is all! My sweet little sunzi out in the world again! Maybe you can even find little Xiaotian a mother or another father! Oh, wouldn’t that just be lovely.” His grandmother hugged the coloring child, who looked around in confusion.

“Lǎolao, you’re going to crush the kid.” Pigsy’s face was dark red as he rang the counter’s bell and called out the order.

“Come on, I need some answers here. You know how boring my life has gotten since retirement,” his grandmother pleaded.

“Not much to say. It’s the first date, and I haven’t met them, either. Also, I thought you said you understood that I’m not Xiaotian’s–... you know,” Pigsy looked away as the customer took their food.

“Oh? A double blind date! Isn’t that lovely.” Lǎolao clapped her hands, completely ignoring his comment about Xiaotian. “Where to?”

“Some place they recommended.” Pigsy shrugged. “I don’t know much about it, but I don’t get out much.”

“Oh, this is so exciting! I almost wish I could tag along with both of you, but I have to take care of this little monkey man.” His grandmother smiled at Xiaotian and began to tickle him, filling the restaurant with loud squeals of delight.

Pigsy rolled his eyes with a chuckle, going to wash some dishes in the sink when he noticed Tang looking at him, tilting his head curiously. “What’s up?”

“Oh–! Nothing! I just– a date, huh? That’s huge, congrats.” The scholar smiled softly.

“Ah, it’s no big deal, really. I just… I don’t know. Heck, I don’t even know why I agreed to do this whole ‘blind date’ thing. It’s so strange not even knowing the person’s name,” Pigsy confessed.

“Hear you there. But in a way, I think that makes it easier to get to know them, you know? No images, fake names, it’s… comforting, in a way. Especially with the whole ‘background check’ feature so you know it’s less likely for anyone to be a serial killer, haha,” Tang rambled.

“Yeah, I guess that’s part of the reason I signed up too. I mean– that, and because I seriously never go out. Not that I necessarily want to go out more, but you know what I mean.” Pigsy snorted.

Tang laughed. “I do.”

Pigsy smiled before shaking his head and getting to those dishes.

“So… what’s your mystery person like?” Tang asked after a minute of dishwashing.

“Oh– well, you know… they seem real smart and stuff,” Pigsy hesitated to admit, glad to stay facing the sink, so Tang couldn’t see how red his face was becoming. “They’re kinda poetic too, but not in a traditional sense. I don’t even know if they know just how smart they are, it seems kinda natural to them. I dunno.”

“Oh, interesting.” He heard Tang laugh nervously. “I hope you have fun.”

After his face stopped feeling so hot, Pigsy finally asked, “What about you? What’s your mystery man like?”

“He’s really super sweet and considerate, you know? Not very technological, but– heavens, he always knows what to say. He’s also super funny and snarky, and he makes me feel all smart and important, which is crazy because like– it’s just me.” Tang blushed and looked down at his bowl. “He has no idea I’m practically broke. I’m kind of scared to bring it up, you know? Like– ‘hey, let’s go to dinner! Oh, and by the way I can’t afford anything so it’s all on you!’” Tang sighed. “I should probably just cancel…”

“What?! You can’t do that,” Pigsy immediately protested, getting his grandmother’s attention once more.

“What are you two talking about now?” She looked back and forth between the two of them.

“I was– ummm… considering canceling my… date?” Tang gave a sheepish smile, and Pigsy’s grandmother smacked him upside the head.

“Shǎchā! You are not doing that!” She scolded the scholar.

“Wha–?! Why not? I’m flat broke. I can’t even buy a garden salad,” Tang huffed, resting his elbows on the bar.

“So?” Pigsy snorted. “The payment is being lucky enough to enjoy your company, nothing more and nothing less. If he doesn’t accept, run out of the restaurant. Take his wallet if you can. Make him pay.”

Tang laughed. “That’s easy for you to say, anyone would be lucky to date a five-star chef.”

Pigsy rolled his eyes. “I am not a five-star chef–”

His grandmother interrupted him with a scoff. “My recipes are much better than anything that can be found in those froufrou places with the marble floors and glass ceilings– especially with your additions, Jiejie.”

“Gotta agree with your grandmother, Pigsy. Your recipes are one of a kind and anyone would be lucky to go out with a chef as amazing and talented as you.” Tang smiled with so much earnestness it made Pigsy’s cheeks flush again.

“Well, I think anyone’d be lucky to go out with anyone half as smart as you,” Pigsy countered, making Tang hide in his scarf a bit.

His grandmother had something of a smug look on her face when Pigsy glanced at her, but she quickly cleared her throat and started talking to Xiaotian about his drawing. The chef sighed, shaking his head and vowing to one day fully understand that woman.

“So… what time are you closing?” Tang ventured to ask.

“Around 6:30 to try and get some of that dinner rush money before kickin’ everyone out,” Pigsy glanced at the clock yet again.

“Smart. I’ll have to leave around 6 anyway to get ready and all too.” Tang fidgeted with his scarf.

“You going to want another bowl before then?” Pigsy couldn’t help but smirk a little.

“Har-har,” Tang rolled his eyes. “... but yeah, maybe.”

Pigsy laughed. “Don’t stress yourself, it’s a big day for us both.”

“Right, yeah.” The scholar smiled before going back to his current bowl.

Again, Pigsy’s grandmother looked amused at this, but when Pigsy looked, she acted like nothing was wrong and started complimenting Xiaotian’s drawing again.

Pigsy sighed, focusing back on his work as customers began to pour in once more. The chef managed to hold a steady pace that kept him fairly busy, though not busy enough to forget to make Tang another bowl of lo mein he teased him about. Tang ate, Xiaotian colored (even showed a handful to Pigsy when he could), his grandmother gossiped about some of the mahjong ladies, and overall it was a pretty solid work day. He wished Tang the best of luck on his way out, and wished some of that for himself when he closed the restaurant.

“So, you really are going on a date, aren’t you?” His grandmother teased as Pigsy locked the iron security shield.

Pigsy rolled his eyes. “I appreciate your trust in my honesty.”

“I’m just making sure before I get my hopes up. Heaven knows this only happens once in a blue moon,” she teased, making Xiaotian giggle.

“What’re you laughing at, mister?” Pigsy put his hands on his hips dramatically, making the kid laugh more.

“He’s laughing at the fact that you haven’t been on a date since before he was born, isn’t that right, my little dumpling?” Lǎolao pinched his cheeks, which made him whine and go behind Pigsy.

“Lǎolao–”

“I know, I know. It’s not my fault he’s as cute as a button, you know,” She defended herself before Pigsy rolled his eyes again and picked the kid up.

“Miss Xiahui is a lot like my mother, you know? No respect for boundaries. I’m so sorry you have to spend all night with her,” Pigsy apologized dramatically.

“S’okay! She lets me have cookies.” Xiaotian grinned wide, making the chef immediately give his grandmother a look.

“I’ve already told you it’s not my fault he’s so cute.” His grandmother raised her hands in defeat, making the chef roll his eyes yet again.

“If he gets cavities, you’re paying the dentist bill,” Pigsy huffed and started walking home.

“He’s not going to get cavities, Jiejie. Xiaotian knows how to brush his teeth very well, don’t you, dear?” Lǎolao patted the boy’s head as he nodded.

“Right,” Pigsy said. “Let’s just get home.”

“Yes, yes! We have to get you good and ready for your date! Oh, I’m so excited.” Lǎolao had dropped the teasing for genuine elation. “You know, I think if I looked I could find one of your grandfather’s old suits. Oh, you’d look just so handsome in it.”

“Oh, wow, Lǎolao, that’s really not–”

“Necessary? Of course it is! Tonight is a momentous occasion and I want my grandson to look his absolute best.” She ignored his protest and practically marched the rest of the way to their apartment.

Pigsy gave a nice, long sigh. “You’re gonna have a long night, kid.”

“No bedtime?” Xiaotian’s face lit up.

“Who knows.” Pigsy snorted and picked up the pace to follow his grandmother (who, for someone in their 80s, was rather spritely).

When they got home, his grandmother quickly pulled out old boxes and had him try on three suits before finally finding a Western Style from the 40s. His grandmother also gave him gold square cufflinks, as well as a blue and pink floral tie. He managed to at the very least convince her to let him wear his own socks and shoes, and after she spritzed him down with peach perfume, the look was finished.

“Lǎolao, you don’t have to do this, my suit is plenty good,” Pigsy pointed out as his grandmother straightened out his suit coat, looking like she was going to cry.

“No, no. You look absolutely perfect.” She smiled, finally stepping back to admire her work. “Your date will absolutely love you.”

“Lǎolao.” Pigsy’s face turned tomato red.

His grandmother chuckled. “I suppose we could use a third opinion.” She tapped her chin, before calling Xiaotian in from the living room, and in a moment, the five-year-old pattered over. “Xiaotian, do you think Pigsy looks nice?”

Xiaotian gave two thumbs up and a toothy grin. “Fancy!”

“See? You look perfect.” His grandmother smiled and patted Xiaotian’s head.

“I never said I looked bad, I’m just saying it’s– it’s a lot, and I really don’t know if I need Waigong’s suit–”

“Nonsense, Bajie. He’d want you to have it.” His grandmother cupped Pigsy’s cheek.

“It’s… a blind date from an anonymous chat site, Lǎolao. I really don’t think–”

“You never know, Jiejie. You could be meeting the love of your life,” She hummed.

“Right… sure,” Pigsy agreed to drop his protests for the sake of not dampening his grandmother’s spirits.

The elder pig demon smiled again, patting Pigsy’s cheek twice. “Now, let me find my camera; I want to capture how handsome you look.” She winked and left the room.

“Lǎolao, I really don’t have time for– never mind.” Pigsy shook his head when he realized she was just going to insist. He sighed, giving himself another once over in the mirror and adjusting his tie.

“You really think this isn’t too much, kid?” Pigsy asked Xiaotian.

The boy shook his head. “You look like a detective!”

Pigsy laughed, realizing Xiaotian was 100% correct. “All I’m missing is the hat, darn.” He snapped his fingers playfully.

“And a gun,” the boy giggled.

“Ahhhhh, that might be a bit much kiddo,” Pigsy chuckled, ruffling the kid’s hair. “You gonna be okay with just Lǎolao tonight?”

Xiaotian nodded. “We’re gonna watch Monkey Empire.”

“Again? Didn’t we just finish that?” Pigsy raised a playful eyebrow.

“Yeah, but I wannaaaaaa,” Xiaotian explained eloquently.

“Fair enough. Just don’t let Lǎolao spoil you too much, alright? And make sure you brush your teeth extra good, and put all your toys away for her. I’ll check on you as soon as I get back,” Pigsy said, fixing the kid’s hair since he just messed it up.

“Okie dokie, Piggy.” The boy grinned again.

“Found it!” Pigsy’s grandmother finally called from the other room, and she was back in a flash.

“Oh, you just look so handsome, I could eat you right up, you know that? Your date is a very, very lucky man,” the woman chuckled as she took a photo, not even waiting for him to pose or smile.

“‘Man’? I don’t know their gender,” Pigsy pointed out, but she just waved her hand and snapped another photo.

“Xiaotian, go join Bajie, I want to get my two favorite, most handsome boys together,” she instructed and Xiaotian ran to Pigsy. The chef scooped him up and they both smiled for the camera.

After a few photos were taken, Pigsy glanced at the clock and said, “Alright, are we done? I’m gonna be late soon.”

“Yes, yes, you can go,” His grandmother sighed dramatically– though snapped another photo anyway.

Pigsy rolled his eyes, setting Xiaotian back down before kneeling to his level.

“You promise to be good for Lǎolao?” He asked the five-year-old, who nodded seriously. “Good. I’ll see you later tonight, kiddo.” The chef smiled and stood before Xiaotian grabbed his pant leg.

“I’ll miss you,” Xiaotian whispered, and Pigsy… wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that.

“I’ll… be back soon, kid. Don’t stress yourself,” he finally said, patting the kid on the head again.

“Besides,” Lǎolao said, getting the kid to look at her, “you have a very fun night planned with your Lǎolao, and we’re going to have lots of fun, aren’t we, Xiaotian?”

“Yeah! We’ll watch Monkey King!” The kid grinned once more, making the elder pig demon chuckle.

“We most certainly will. And we’ll eat lots of cookies and candy and break lots of Bajie’s silly rules,” his grandmother enabled the kid’s natural desire for rebellion.

“You’re killing me, you know that?” Pigsy half-joked, arms crossed.

“It’s what keeps me young,” Lǎolao teased right back.

“Right.” Pigsy rolled his eyes. “Well, I gotta get going so–”

“WAIT!” Xiaotian suddenly shouted, running out of the room, while Pigsy and his grandmother just looked at each other in confusion. They didn’t have to wait long, though, as Xiaotian was back in the matter of seconds with a drawing in his hand.

“For luck!” He explained, handing it over.

Pigsy accepted the offering, laughing when he saw it was a very crude drawing of Xiaotian, Pigsy’s grandmother, Tang, and himself all eating noodles at the restaurant with even cruder hearts everywhere.

“I love it, kid. I’ll put it right here for safe keeping,” Pigsy complimented, folding the drawing so it fit right by his pocket square, which made Xiaotian so happy that, before Pigsy could prepare himself, the kid hugged him.

“Have fun!” Xiaotian grinned nice and big before stepping back and waving.

“I will.” Pigsy waved a little and headed to the door.

“Yes, have lots of fun! I expect to hear about tonight in great detail tomorrow!” His grandmother waved as well, to which Pigsy laughed and shook his head before exiting the apartment door and heading out into the night.

.o0o.

Pigsy arrived at the restaurant at exactly 7:57, three minutes early and before his date. The place was classy, but clearly small and not quite known in the public sphere yet. There was no need for a wait or reservation, so Pigsy was taken to an outside table for two by the fountain.

He could see why this mystery person would pick a place like this. It was nice, but hidden away, and not too expensive. His person was sensible and romantic, and this choice was a reflection of that.

Pigsy opened up the website on his phone, telling his date he’d arrived and got a table, before he settled himself down to wait and think (his favorite activity!).

Pigsy was totally going to fuck this night up.

He hadn’t been on a date in years, and even then, the ones he’d had with Wujing were full of personal mistakes he wasn’t keen on repeating. He knew for a fact he was going to sound incredibly stupid, especially in comparison to his eloquent partner, but that was hardly the least of his worries. Maybe he’d get too angry at something, and it would totally freak them out, or he’d bring up Xiaotian, and they’d hate that he had a kid (even though he wasn’t his kid technically, he was just his guardian, but that would also probably scare them away, creating a perfect lose-lose situation). And heavens, that wasn’t even mentioning the fact that there was a good chance Pigsy forgot to even tell them he was a demon– he was so unbelievably stupid like that.

At exactly eight o'clock, the waiter stopped by and dropped off two glasses of water before disappearing. Pigsy tried his best not to chug it immediately, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t get thirsty when he was nervous. To try and force himself not to, he kept tracing the rim of his glass again and again and again, while keeping an eye on the door.

A part of the chef wondered if his date stood him up. There were a handful of people already here; maybe his date had arrived, saw Pigsy, realized their date was a hideous pig demon, and simply slipped away. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time…

No, no. Pigsy had to wait and be rational. He needed to remember the little drawing in his suit pocket reminding him it was all going to be fine, even if it wasn’t fine, and he’d be okay. So instead of completely losing his mind and worrying to death, Pigsy placed a hand against the pocket that held the drawing and took nice, long breaths before taking a casual and normal drink of water.

However, just then, the restaurant’s door flung open, and Pigsy’s heart practically leapt into his throat as he saw–

Tang…???

No… no, yeah, that was Tang all right, panting with his back against a wall before he looked around the space. When he saw Pigsy, the scholar seemed to share the exact same confusion, head tilting, but he eventually approached the lone pig demon.

“Hey, Pigsy… What’re you doing here?” Tang asked, still catching his breath.

“Same as you, I guess,” Pigsy looked at the fountain, face turning red.

“Right, yeah! Man, that’s one hell of a coincidence, isn’t it?” Tang laughed.

Pigsy laughed as well. “Guess there aren’t many romantic spots left in the city.”

“Guess not.” Tang fidgeted with his scarf, looking around the restaurant.

“Your date not here yet?” Pigsy guessed.

Tang shrugged. “They said they were, but I don’t see them anywhere.”

“Maybe they just lied and said they were here when they’re really just on their way, I used to do that all the time.” Pigsy snorted.

“Yeah, maybe,” Tang laughed. “You– uh– don’t mind if I sit here for right now, do you?”

“Be my guest. You could use the water anyway,” Pigsy teased, and Tang graciously accepted the seat and water.

“I just– I don’t know, me and them agreed to meet here at eight, and I planned to be here at eight o’clock sharp, so I just– I don’t know. Maybe they stood me up– god, that would be so embarrassing,” Tang whispered that last bit to himself.

“Hey. Relax. You’re only five minutes late, and they aren’t even here yet. Besides, they’d have to be a complete moron to stand you up, of all people,” Pigsy pointed out.

Tang rolled his eyes with a little smile. “Yeah, yeah, thanks. Where’s your date?”

“Late, probably. Or maybe we’ve both been stood up, wouldn’t that be something?” Pigsy mused.

“Misery does love company,” Tang laughed sadly.

“He’ll show, I’m sure of it.” Pigsy tried his best to sound comforting.

“Thanks. I’m sure yours will too.” Tang did his best too.

Pigsy nodded, pulling out his phone again and checking to see if they’d messaged him yet, but he was greeted with the exact same screen as minutes before.

He sighed.

“So, you said your date picked this place?” Tang asked out of the blue.

“Uh– yeah. I’ve never been.” Pigsy shrugged.

“I’ve only been here once or twice, but their mango pudding is to die for; though, it’s not as good as yours or your grandmother’s,” Tang stated like it was obvious.

“Funny, my date recommended the mango pudding too. Must be really popular,” Pigsy recalled.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it was, it’s amazing.” Tang fidgeted with his scarf again before pulling out his phone. “Though, I gotta ask– why would you agree to a restaurant? You always hate eating out?”

“It was a very persuasive review.” Pigsy snorted. “Besides, I didn’t wanna sound like a hard ass or anything, and it's not like I had any better ideas.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” the scholar assured, typing something.

Pigsy sighed, looking around the restaurant at other couples drinking wine and being all couple-y, when his phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket.

ShiningAnthropod_Admirer: “Sorry I’m late! Where are you? Just got here.”

Pigsy looked around, and not seeing anyone by the door, he frowned, quickly replying:

FineCuisine81: “Check the outside section.”

“You messaging your date too?” Tang laughed.

“Yeah, they said they’re here, so…” Pigsy trailed off.

“Oh! So’s mine, so I should probably– like– go, haha,” Tang said, already standing.

Pigsy just smiled somewhat sadly as the scholar shuffled away, not giving the pig demon a glance.

Whatever, he was sure it wasn’t personal (or– he hoped, anyway) and so pulled out his phone to find another message.

ShiningAnthropod_Admirer: “Where are you sitting?”

Pigsy looked around only briefly before sending:

FineCuisine81: “By the fountain in the middle section.”

Pigsy tapped his fingers anxiously against the table, staring at his screen intently as three dots bounced around.

ShiningAnthropod_Admirer: “There's a lot of people here. I guess I should also ask what you’re wearing too, haha”

“More like lots of humans,” Pigsy muttered to himself.

No– Pigsy couldn’t be bitter, he was supposed to have fun. It didn’t matter if his date was looking around and clearly expecting a human, it was–

Pigsy placed his hand on his breast pocket and took deep breaths, reminding himself he was fine and loved, and he’d be okay.

FineCuisine81: “Old blue western suit and a floral tie.”

He waited with bated breath, barely even daring to glance around to see if his date was actually looking for him or not. He did catch another glance at Tang, which the scholar returned with a funny shrug that Pigsy returned, before they both just went back to their phones.

ShiningAnthropod_Admirer: “I still don’t see you. You aren’t lying about being there, are you?”

Pigsy knitted his eyebrows, almost offended if he didn’t understand how bad first date jitters could be.

FineCuisine81: “I promise I’m not.”

Pigsy wasn’t even sure he was breathing anymore with how nervous he was watching the screen. At one point, the waiter stopped by to try and ask him if he was ready to order, but he pushed them away immediately.

A minute passed, then two.

Then–

ShiningAnthropod_Admirer: “Are you sure you’re at the right restaurant? The Huayuan Restaurant? The one on Lianren Road?” FineCuisine81: “I promise.”

Pigsy bit his cheek. He knew it wouldn’t be enough– maybe he needed to do something.

FineCuisine81: “What are you wearing? Maybe I can find you.”

Pigsy barely had to wait a second for a reply.

ShiningAnthropod_Admirer: “Red and gold tang suit with embroidery along the sleeves and sides. Also glasses lol.”

Pigsy paused, because that–... No… No, it– it couldn’t be, Pigsy would know if it was Tang. There– there would be signs. He’d know. Pigsy wasn’t that stupid.

He saw Tang circling around the fountain again, and this time when he locked eyes with Pigsy the scholar sighed and sat across from him once more.

Tang suit. Gold embroidery. Glasses.

“I’m pretty sure my date is just lying about being here at this point. I mean– I’ve circled the entire place like– ten times, but I just– I’m a little glad your table is still empty too.” Tang laughed like he was going to cry.

Holy fucking shit…

“I-I– Tang, I’m–” Pigsy was utterly dumbfounded because the man sitting in front of him was his mystery man– the fiercely intelligent and kind soul he had spent months chatting with, being too scared of what he’d think if he saw his appearance. Iit was him. It was Tang.

“A-are you okay? You look a little shaken,” Tang laughed again, this time picking up a napkin to wipe his eyes.

Pigsy didn’t think, just grabbed Tang’s hands and stroked them with his thumbs.

“Wha–? Pigsy? Are you alright?” The scholar was clearly startled, but didn’t break the grasp.

“Tang, I-I– It’s– I’m–” Pigsy growled in frustration, words alluding him.

“Yes…?” Tang asked softly, his eyes sparkling like diamonds against the night sky and glasses.

Pigsy took another breath, feeling warmth radiating from Xiaotian’s drawing as he did, and said, “1940’s western suit. Floral tie.”

Tang pulled back a little, opening his mouth to speak, before he looked Pigsy up and down. It only took seconds before his eyes widened with recognition.

“No… no, no– you–? Me? No, you– you wouldn’t, I–” Tang shook his head. “I appreciate you trying to save my night, but–”

“Tang. My username was ‘FineCuisine81’ because I’m a chef and was born in 1981. I didn’t bring up the restaurant or Xiaotian or my grandmother or– much of my past really because you know I’m pretty hesitant about most of it,” Pigsy pleaded for him to understand.

“I-I– you– you wouldn’t–”

“C’mon, Tang. You know me– you know my snark by now, don’t you?” Pigsy tried to joke, but Tang snagged his hands away to cover his face.

“Pigsy, I-I– did you look me up? Is this some kind of– sick joke? Getting payback for all those stupid bowls of noodles?” The scholar was crying by now.

“Tang! I would never– I didn’t know it was you, but now that I do, I– I couldn’t be happier, I swear.” Pigsy smiled despite his overwhelming worry.

Tang shook his head. “No– I’m– I’m not good enough for you– I’m such a mess a-and I’m broke a-and scrawny a-and anxious a-and–”

“Tang, you’re plenty good enough– you’re so much better than me, anyways,” Pigsy laughed and sniffled. “You’re so smart and kind and likable and–”

“B-but you’re really nice too! A-and you have a real job that pays well and a loving grandmother a-and you’re a guardian– and me? I’m just some loser with a nose in a book,” Tang interrupted.

“We– There’s a reason we wanted to meet our ‘mystery person’, Tang. We both saw… something in them– something that made us want more” Pigsy smiled as he wiped away one of the scholar’s tears. “I… I really don’t want to throw that away because I’m scared.”

Tang finally opened his eyes enough to get another good look at Pigsy. It was terrifying to be inspected by him, but Pigsy managed to hold strong and met his gaze with a soft, tearful smile that eventually got Tang to laugh and shake his head.

“We are so stupid, aren’t we?” He asked, and Pigsy removed his hands.

“Oh, absolutely,” Pigsy couldn’t help but agree. “But hey– I’m sure Lǎolao’ll love to hear it took us a whole fifteen minutes to realize we were here for each other.”

“Oh, heavens, she’s never going to let that go, is she?” Tang copied the pig, the redness in his face starting to leave.

“I’m pretty sure she’ll hold it above us until the day she dies,” Pigsy chuckled. “On the bright side, though, at least we’re both idiots.”

“Fair enough.” Tang smiled and looked at the fountain. “I just– I really picked out a restaurant– I am so sorry, this food is going to be trash compared to yours.”

“Bah, I’m sure that’s not true if you like it.” Pigsy winked.

Tang’s face went red again. “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure; I like instant ramen.”

“Only because it’s so cheap.” The chef snorted.

“You don’t know the depths of my depravity,” Tang refuted.

“Well, I’d certainly like to. That’s why we’re still here, isn’t it?” Pigsy wiped his own face.

“Y-yeah! It– it is.” Tang smiled shyly. “I just– wow, I’m so embarrassed. I mean, the suit, the tie–”

“Hey, how’s about we just forget about fifteen minutes ago, and start over, okay? No guilt, no anxiety, nothing. Just us having a nice evening out,” Pigsy proposed.

Tang thought about it for a moment before nodding. “I’d like that a lot, Pigsy.”

“Then, it’s settled. We drove here together and the waiter sat us together, and we’re now deciding which wine to order together. That good?” Pigsy asked.

Tang nodded. “Sounds perfect, Pigsy.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more.”

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