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roosterforme · 1 year

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Batting Practice Part 7 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley feels like you and he are compatible, so he decides he is all in with you and Everett. When you get a few minutes alone with him during the team pool party, it's evident that you are physically compatible too.

Warnings: Fluff, angst and swearing (eventually 18+)

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

Bradley had decided that complicated was good enough for him, as long as he could be around you. Nat was right; as far as adult problems went, he was being ridiculous to try to force himself away from a woman he wanted just because she had a kid. And not just any kid. Everett was great. Bradley honestly loved being around him, too.

So he kissed you. Sure, it was only on the cheek, but he didn't care who saw him. In fact, he hoped the other moms saw it. Maybe they'd leave him the hell alone.

"Ready, Coaches?" the referee asked, and Bradley and Bob both gave him a thumbs up.

This game was much more of a blowout than last Saturday. Bradley hated to admit it, but the Tiny Owls were pretty terrible. He was looking for a way to silently instate some sort of 'mercy rule' so the kids on the other team wouldn't feel too bad about losing by so much.

Everett was next up to bat, and Bradley pointed to first base. "Hey, kiddo. Let's practice hitting where I tell you to, okay? Hit the ball toward first base." And Everett managed to hit the ball exactly where Bradley told him.

"Cool!" Everett cheered, earning a high five. Bob gave Bradley a thumbs up, and he had Piper do the same thing.

Thankfully by the last inning, the Tiny Owls had come back a bit. But the Tiny Eagles still won by ten runs.

When Bradley glanced at the bench, he saw you on the phone with Bob's credit card in your hand. You looked up at him and waved your fingers.

You mouthed, "Hi, Coach," and Bradley's entire body lit up. He wanted to get you alone during the pool party, even just for a minute. He wanted to show you that he couldn't stop thinking about you.

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

You pulled your car around the enormous recreation grounds and parked next to the pool.

"Ev, I have to carry a bunch of stuff into the kitchen. Why don't you take your swim bag and work on getting changed?"

"Okay," he replied, and you watched him walk into the fenced in pool area and head for the boys' bathroom.

You walked around to your trunk and started to shimmy out the cooler and bags of ice, keeping Bob's credit card and the kitchen keys in your hand.

"I got it, Kitten!" Bradley was jogging up behind you, still all sweaty from the game. You felt his hand on your lower back at the same time his lips connected with your cheek again, and then he was reaching into your trunk as if this was the most natural thing in the world. "Where's Ev?" he asked, looking around, and your heart clenched.

"Getting changed," you told him, your voice sounding a little dreamy. "You kissed me again."

He leaned in and kissed your cheek a third time just as all of the other parents started pulling into the surrounding spots.

"Yep," he confirmed, lifting the cooler, bags of ice and juice boxes all out of your trunk in one shot. You grabbed the bags of chips and pretzels and scrambled after him with the keys.

He paused to let you unlock the clubhouse door, and there was a smirk on his face as you squeezed in front of him. You wanted to kiss him until he wasn't smirking anymore.

You jiggled the knob and threw your weight against the door, but nothing happened. "Turn the knob again," Bradley instructed, and he leaned against it, popping it open.

"Thanks," you murmured, leading the way inside, and he was hot on your heels, setting everything down on the long countertop in the dimly lit kitchen.

"Kitten," he muttered, stepping into your personal space and letting his hands settle on your waist. Your heart felt like it was bouncing around in your chest.

"Hello!" called a familiar voice, and you watched Bradley tip his head back in frustration as his hands abandoned your waist. Then Sandra strolled into the kitchen in a tiny bikini top and a pair of cutoff shorts. "There you are, Bradley! I didn't know if you wanted to taste my cupcakes before I let everyone else try them."

You had to refrain from rolling your eyes. Bradley cleared his throat and said, "Actually, I try to stay away from sweets."

You watched Sandra's face fall as she started to set up an elaborate cupcake display for the kids.

"I'm going to go check on Everett and get changed," you said, brushing Bradley's chest with your fingers as you headed for the door.

"Great idea. I'll get changed, too," he said, following you out.

You turned and looked at him over your shoulder. "You don't eat sweets?"

He chuckled. "Nah, I love sweets. I'd eat the shit out of your cupcakes, Kitten."

A giggle bubbled out of you. You were aching to feel his lips against yours. However, it felt wonderful to see him reject Sandra like that. You wouldn't mind watching him do that over and over again.

"Mommy!" Everett ran over and thrust his bag into your hands. "Are you getting changed and coming in the pool with me?"

"Yeah, sweetie. I'm going to get changed. I'll put my feet in the water."

Bradley scoffed. "Just your feet? That's no fun," he said, winking at Everett.

"Yeah, that's no fun! You should jump in with me!" Everett exclaimed.

"Us. You should jump in with us," Bradley corrected, swiping his hand over Everett's hair.

You smiled at both of them. "Fine! You win. I'll jump in, but not until after lunch. Coach Bob has entrusted me with the pizza and his credit card. And as Team Mom, I'm reminding both of you that you'll need to wait thirty minutes after you eat before you can swim."

You listened to Bradley and Ev both grumble as they walked away from you, but Bradley turned around and winked as you headed off to get changed.

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

Bradley could only take so much. He wanted to kiss you and run his hands all over you. But fucking Sandra and her goddamn cupcakes had to interrupt all his fun. Now he was sitting in the sun in his board shorts, Phillies cap still backwards and aviators perched on his nose. He was watching Bob and some of the parents swimming with the kids, but he was completely distracted by you as soon as you emerged from the ladies' room.

He dragged his sunglasses lower on his nose and really looked at you. Leopard print bathing suit? Was his Kitten trying to kill him? It was a one piece that tied in the front and showed a little gap of skin below your breasts, and Bradley was practically drooling now. You adjusted the black wrap you were wearing around your waist and went to sit at the edge of the pool.

When you had your legs in the water almost up to your knees, Bradley saw Bob swim over and lean on the edge of the pool to talk to you. He could hear your laughter and see your bright smile from where he was sitting. Bob had heard Bradley freaking out about you at the Hard Deck on Thursday night. He had been there for all of the second guessing and over complication and word vomit Bradley had been spouting about being interested in a mom. What if Bob took all of that to mean Bradley was no longer interested in you?

Because he was. Bradley went home from the Hard Deck, got a little drunk and then got really sad when he imagined no longer having you and Everett in his life after tee ball season ended.

Bradley got up and tossed his hat on the chair, and then headed toward the pool. Your eyes were on him immediately, and you did that cute little finger wave in his direction. God, he'd be so upset if Bob was flirting with you. He'd finally just figured out what he wanted and what he was willing to do to get it.

He jumped into the deep end and started swimming toward where you were sitting, picking up Piper and putting her on his shoulders along the way. Bradley tried to eavesdrop while Piper held onto his ears and asked to be dunked. So he told Piper to hold her breath and then dunked her one time.

"Wanna go see Uncle Bob, Piper?" he asked her.

"Yeah!" she squealed. "Uncle Bobby!"

"Excellent," Bradley muttered, carrying the child toward you and Bob.

You were smiling at Bob as he rambled on, but Bradley could tell your eyes were drifting toward him. "And I just never knew I could claim that when I file my income taxes, so thanks for explaining that to me. You're a lifesaver," Bob was saying.

"You can ask me accounting questions anytime, Bob."

You had told Bradley you were an accountant. Bob was talking to you about income taxes. That wasn't sexy at all. Although... Bradley still thought that might be considered flirting for Bob.

"Here's Uncle Bobby," Bradley said, thrusting Piper into Bob's arms while she demanded he dunk her.

"Hi, Coach," you said, reaching down and taking Bradley's wet aviators off and putting them on yourself.

"That looks cute, Kitten." He grabbed your foot and pretended to pull you into the water.

"Bradley!" you gasped, but he just smiled up at you. "I said I would swim later!"

He traced along your ankle under the water, and you let him. "Promise? I want to see Kitten get all wet."

You gaped at him, and he realized what he just said. But you pulled your foot slowly out of his grasp. "The pizzas just got here. I'm going to get them all set up in the kitchen," you told him, returning his sunglasses to his nose and standing up.

As you walked away from the pool, Bradley saw you turn around and look back at him a few times.

"I think she wants you to follow her," Bob commented, tossing Piper under the water again. "I'll give you a five minute head start, and then I'm going to announce the pizzas are here."

Bradley was pulling himself out of the pool immediately. He tossed his sunglasses back onto his chair and dried off a bit with his towel before following you into the clubhouse building again.

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Your heart was pounding as you looked out the kitchen window and watched Bradley pull himself out of the pool. His biceps were crazy. He had abs. He looked so incredibly hot, you weren't sure what to do. You kept opening and closing the pizza boxes without really doing anything. Now he was toweling off, his biceps and shoulders rippling again.

He was coming inside.

You picked up a juice box to keep your hands busy but looked up as Bradley walked into the kitchen.

"Coach," you said a bit breathlessly as he made his way over to you without stopping.

"Kitten," Bradley whispered, backing you slowly, intentionally up until you bumped into the counter. You shivered as he gently stroked his fingers up your arm. "Just wanted to come in and check on you."

You looked up at him, but your eyes fluttered closed for a beat as his hand made its way up to your shoulder before teasing the soft skin above your collarbone. His brown eyes were focused on yours, and his hand was huge and warm as he caressed you. You bit your lip and shivered again as his wet swim trunks met the front of your bathing suit, making you wet and cold.

"You only came inside to check on me?" you asked softly, pressing yourself against him.

Bradley shook his head and groaned softly. "Came in to do this, too," he whispered, closing the distance between you, and brushing his lips against yours.

Oh, he felt good. So good. You leaned in, deepening the kiss and let the juice box fall to the floor.

Your hands went up to tangle in his messy, damp hair, and when he pressed you back against the counter, you were able to feel every inch of his body against yours. Bradley's hands glided down your sides to your waist, and next thing you knew, he was lifting you up and setting you down on the counter.

"Bradley!" you giggled as his lips met yours again with more heat. You spread your legs a little wider and let him stand between them as he stroked his fingers along your thighs.

He placed a soft kiss to the corner of your lips, and when he spoke, his voice was deep and raspy. "Did you end things with Frank?" His lips brushed against you, making it so hard to think.

"Yeah," you gasped as Bradley's lips connected with the side of your neck. "He's history," you promised, reveling in the feel of his mustache prickling your soft skin. "Ancient history."

Your fingers tugged through his hair, and Bradley brought his lips back up to yours. "That's a good Kitten. I'm not gonna share you."

Moaning, you pulled him closer so his abs were pressing against your core through the scrap of your bathing suit that was covering you. He worked his lips against yours as you held him close, your body fitting perfectly with his. You tasted his tongue, leaning closer to get more of him.

"Bradley," you moaned when he pulled you closer to the edge of the counter, your core rubbing against him deliciously. He kissed your nose and your cheeks as you started grinding against his abs.

He guided your bathing suit strap off your left shoulder and kissed along your newly exposed skin as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

"You taste good," he grunted, his tongue coming out to tease you. Your head tipped back as his hands wrapped tightly around your waist, and his lips worked across the swell of your breasts above your suit.

You were panting his name softly as his nose stroked your neck. Then his lips were on yours again, and you were devouring his mouth.

But you heard someone else coming inside the clubhouse, and you broke away from the kiss. But Bradley wasn't moving. He let his hands drift down your sides and to the tops of your thighs.

"Someone's coming," you said breathlessly. But you didn't push him away. You knew how you looked right now with your bathing suit strap hanging down your arm and Bradley standing between your legs.

He was just grinning at you and stroking your legs while you continued to grip his shoulders.

"Oh, hi," Bob said, taking one look at the two of you and blushing.

"Hey, Bob. What's up?" Bradley asked before turning back to you and placing one more soft kiss to your lips. You ducked away from Bob and adjusted your shoulder strap.

"Uh, just checking to see if the pizza is ready," he said, clearing his throat a few times.

"Yeah," you managed to say. "The pizza is all set. It's ready. And so are we, aren't we, Bradley? Ready to eat pizza?" You were practically stuttering.

"Sure, Kitten," he murmured, helping you down from the counter. You slid down the front of his body, bracing your hands against his hard chest.

"Oh-kay.... well, I'll send everyone else in then," Bob said, turning to head back outside.

You wrapped your hands around the back of Bradley's neck, and he smashed his lips against yours again, holding you in place with one hand on your ass.

"You're trouble," he groaned as your lips dropped down to his neck for a second before you heard all the kids heading inside and finally broke apart.

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Bradley watched you pick up the juice box that you had dropped on the floor when he started kissing you. You held it absentmindedly, chewing on your lip with a dreamy look on your face. He stacked up three slices of pizza on a plate to keep himself from reaching for you again. Then he grabbed some plates and got a slice ready for Everett and one for Amber as well.

You were nibbling on a slice of pizza and occasionally looking at him while you talked to Amber's dad. Bradley could tell you were barely paying attention to what he was saying to you, and that made him smile.

Bradley avoided all the baked goods since he had already told Sandra he wasn't into hers. So he ate half a bag of chips while he tried to figure out how to get you alone again.

Everett hugged you after he finished his pizza, and you told him, "Wait a half hour before you swim!" Then you pointed at Bradley with a grin and said, "You too, Coach."

"Okay, Team Mom," he said with a wink. Then he led Everett and a few other kids outside to the grass and started up a game of tag. He ran away from the kids, dodging their little hands for a while.

"You're fast, Coach!" Everett said, finally making contact with Bradley's arm.

"Gotta be fast to be a good ball player," Bradley told him, immediately tagging Henry.

Bradley ran around with the swarm of screaming kids behind him. A lot of the parents were laughing, and he watched you take a picture of him.

"Is it safe to swim yet, Team Mom?" he asked, running past you.

You were cracking up as you said, "Yes! Everyone can go back in the pool!" Half of the kids stopped chasing Bradley and immediately got back in the water. But he watched you untie your wrap and set it on a chair along with your phone, so he made another loop through the grass before making his way over to you.

"Kitten," he growled, and your eyes snapped up to his as he scooped you up and tossed you over his shoulder.

"Bradley!" you squealed in surprise, digging your nails into his back and making him groan. "Don't drop me!"

With one hand on your ass to keep you from squirming, Bradley walked to the edge of the deep end and jumped in with you, your delighted scream echoing through the air before you both hit the water.

"Coach!" you gasped, scrambling against his body when you came up for air. "You're the worst."

Bradley grinned and ran his hands along your hips and waist beneath the water. "I just wanted to get you all wet."

You started laughing as your legs tangled with his under the water. This is what he wanted, just to hear you laughing all the time.

"Mission accomplished," you whispered, biting your lip and running your fingers along his abs before swimming away from him.

He wanted more than anything to follow you, but now he had Everett and a few other kids lined up at the deep end, waiting for Bradley to catch them when they jumped in. So he played with the kids while you swam around a bit, still thinking about how it felt to hold you.

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

You were still damp and trying to clean up the kitchen, because it was almost time for everyone to leave the pool area and turn in the keys. A lot of parents had already started packing up and heading out with their kids, but you didn't want Bradley and Bob to have to clean everything up alone.

As you were consolidating the pizzas into fewer boxes, you watched Bradley pushing Everett and Piper on the swings through the window. He was so good with the kids, and Everett was already very attached to him. You just hoped he would want to stick around.

You turned when the door opened and saw Sandra stroll in.

"Hey, Sandra," you murmured. "Do you want to take any of this pizza home?"

But she just rolled her eyes at you. "Don't you think the flirting is a little excessive?" she asked with a scowl.

"I'm sorry, what?" you asked, heart pounding in your throat.

"You and Coach Bradley. Around the kids? It's a bit much, and I don't think it's appropriate."

You couldn't believe she said that to you, as you looked at her tiny string bikini with wide eyes. You didn't think her swim attire was exactly appropriate for a family friendly pool day, but you just rolled your eyes and kept quiet. "I mean, I guess you're entitled to your opinion."

She just glared at you. "The two of you need to mess around on your own time."

"Okay, Sandra. And maybe you should flirt with your husband instead of the coaches."

Your blood was boiling. You didn't want to get into an argument with her, but you were single and you weren't doing anything inappropriate in front of anyone. Except maybe Bob...

But yeah, you should probably reel it in a little bit. But you weren't going to cave to Sandra's every whim.

You watched her pack up her uneaten baked goods and sweetly asked her, "So is that a no to the extra pizza then?"

She just shot you one last dirty look over her shoulder before leaving with her cupcakes and cookies.

You packed up the pizza, and you were about to check with Bob about what to do with it when he strolled into the kitchen.

"Hey, thanks for all your help today."

"No problem," you told him with a smile. "Do you want some of this extra pizza?"

"Take as much as you want, and I'll split the rest with Bradley."

You packed up a few slices for yourself and then packed up one box for each of the coaches. You were carrying the leftover food out to the parking lot when Everett and Bradley finally emerged from the pool.

"Sweetie, you need to get changed so we can head out," you told Everett, and he went to grab his swim bag.

"Meant to ask you," Bradley said, pushing his wet hair back from his forehead and standing in front of you in all his dripping wet glory. "What time did you and Ev want to go to the park tomorrow so I can show him some pitches?"

A warm, gooey sensation washed over you. He was really serious about this. "How about in the afternoon? Around 2? Myers Park?"

"Sounds good, Kitten," he whispered. You saw Sandra out of the corner of your eye, so you stepped away from him.

"I have leftover pizza for you, and some for Bob. I'm going to take it out to your car."

"Thanks," he said with a wink.

You made two trips to the parking lot, dropping one pizza box off on the hood of Bob's truck and one on the hood of Bradley's Bronco. You also tossed your bags and the empty cooler into your trunk. And then your heart clenched in your chest.

You watched Bradley carrying your son to your car on his shoulders, with Everett's swim bag dangling from Bradley's arm. They had changed out of their swimsuits, and both of them had huge smiles on their faces. And you had the uncontrollable urge to rub yourself against Bradley.

"Mom! Coach is going to take us to the park tomorrow after lunch! And we can pitch baseballs! For real!"

Bradley knelt down next to your car and Everett scrambled off of him and gave him a hug, knocking his aviators askew.

"I'll bring Gatorade and chewing gum, just like in the big leagues," Bradley promised as he stood.

Yep, you wanted to rub your entire body against him.

Bradley opened the car door for Everett, and then he took you by the hand and led you around the other side of his Bronco. "I wasn't sure how you felt about me doing this in front of Everett," he whispered, wrapping his long fingers around the back of your neck and leaning down to kiss you.

You pulled him closer by his belt loops and nibbled on his lips. "Not quite yet, okay?" you whispered against his chin. "He likes you so much. I don't want him to get his hopes up."

You looked up at him as you put a little distance between your body and his, and Bradley's brow scrunched up.

"I get what you're saying. But I think it would be more than okay for him to get his hopes up, Kitten."

You kissed him softly one more time and waved your fingers at him. "See you tomorrow, Coach."

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Definitely physically compatible. Can't wait for them to get a little more physical. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 8

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solarmorrigan · 3 months

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Hands Where I Can See Them, part 7

[Warning for references to sexual situations towards the end, but there is nothing explicit]

“So now do I get to know where we’re going?”

“What part of ‘it’s a surprise’ are you having trouble grasping?”

“The part where we��re driving around in the suburbs in your van on a Saturday night,” Steve shoots a pointed look at Eddie, not without amusement. “I feel like we’re going to end up at some high school party drinking rocket fuel out of Solo cups while you deal out of one of the back bedrooms.”

“Shit, yeah, let’s relive those glory days,” Eddie says drily, then smacks the steering wheel with one palm in emphasis. “No! I am taking you somewhere much better. And we’re almost there, so stop trying to interrogate me. We both know I crack like an egg under pressure.”

Steve holds both his hands up in front of him, brows raised, the very picture of innocence, as though he hasn’t been trying to pump Eddie for information since he picked him up at his house some fifteen minutes ago.

And Eddie really does want it to be a surprise – he thinks he did pretty well, planning this whole thing out. The effort, at first, had simply been placed on coming up with something he’d thought Steve would like—something surprising and romantic and thoughtful—but the further he’d gotten into it, the more he’d found himself enjoying it, too. He’s never actually been on a proper date, much less planned one, and finding all the little touches that would make this one perfect has actually been fun. Eddie’s looking forward to it.

He only hopes his work will pay off.

He navigates the van around one more turn, past a few more unremarkable cookie cutter houses, and pulls to a stop in front of the barrier rail of a dead-end street, entirely ignoring the raised-eyebrow look of intense curiosity that Steve is sending his way.

The thing about Midwestern suburbia is that it sprawls. There are rambling neighborhoods upon rambling neighborhoods, all with kitschy names like “Maple Ridge” and “Eagle Pointe,” and the city planners seem to forget half of what they’ve built as soon as it’s up. Apart from making things confusing to navigate (Oakview Street runs through three different residential areas, for instance, stopping and picking up again at different points throughout town), it’s created isolated pockets of parks and playgrounds, set aside behind back streets and largely unknown to anyone more than a block away – unless they happen to be restless explorers, like Eddie.

“So… are we gonna hang out here tonight?” Steve asks, glancing around at the neighborhood falling into the darkness of the rapidly encroaching dusk.

“Yes, Steve, we’re gonna have a picnic in my van on the back end of Washington Drive,” Eddie drawls.

“You’re the one who wouldn’t tell me where we were going.” Steve shrugs, smirking over at Eddie. “I figured maybe you were embarrassed.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and pushes his door open. “C’mon, Harrington, we’re almost there.”

“That’s what you said last time,” Steve says, though he obediently gets out of the van and rounds to the back, where Eddie is digging for his supplies.

“Well, now it’s an even smaller almost,” Eddie says.

He pulls his backpack from the back of the van, followed by an insulated bag he’d bummed off of Oliver and the tiny cooler that Wayne takes with him when he goes fishing, draping it all over himself like an awkward sort of packmule and waving Steve off when he tries—twice—to reach for one of the bags to help.

“Okay, fine,” Steve finally says, shaking his head. “Lead the way, Mr. Park Ranger.”

“Thank you,” Eddie sniffs, gesturing for Steve to follow him off the street and onto a narrow dirt path that cuts through the thin strip of woods in front of them.

It’s barely a minute’s walk before the path spits them out into a tiny clearing housing a minuscule park. Eddie disregards the neglected jungle gym and the decrepit grill and zeroes in on the reason he’d brought them out here: the gazebo.

“So I’m gonna need just a little more faith from you,” he tells Steve, “and you need to turn around for about a minute.”

The expression on Steve’s face is a familiar one, recognizable even in the fading light as “deciding whether or not to make the bitchy comment,” but finally he simply shrugs and turns around.

“Sure, why not,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Eddie shakes his head, biting down on a smile as he bounds up the two steps into the little gazebo and sets his load down. The thing is in surprisingly good condition, all told; the structure is solid, the picnic table inside is relatively clean, and there is a minimal number of dicks and swearwords graffitied around the inside (barely noticeable in the dark, even!). Glancing back to make sure Steve is still facing away, Eddie makes quick work of unpacking his bags.

The candles come out first, a whole slew of the inexpensive white ones that come in jars, picked up from the dollar store, and he dots them around the gazebo railings and across the picnic table, lighting them with the cigarette lighter from his pocket until the space is warm and glowing. The insulated bag is next, providing two foil-wrapped plates of spaghetti that is—thank you, Oliver—still warm. Last is the cooler, which provides two beers. He’s just pulling napkins and forks from his backpack when he hears Steve calling out from where he’s left him standing.

“I’m pretty sure it’s been more than a minute.”

“You’re so impatient,” Eddie shoots back, taking the steps at a leap and jogging back across the grass to Steve. “But I’m done, anyway, so you can turn around.”

Steve does so, his focus going first to Eddie, before his attention is caught by the glow of the gazebo behind him. Eddie can see his eyes go wide in the candlelight, startled first, and then pleased, accompanied by a slow-growing smile.

“Eddie, this is…” he leaves off with a tiny laugh, like he doesn’t quite have a word for it, but whatever he thinks it is, it’s good.

Eddie shrugs. “I know we can’t exactly go out to a restaurant and have a real date, but I promised you candlelight,” he says. “I’m afraid the violinist was booked, though.”

Shaking his head, Steve lets out another little laugh, and then takes a step towards the gazebo and glances back at Eddie.

“C’mon, yeah, let’s eat. Can’t have everything getting cold!” Eddie gestures Steve up the steps and waves his arm grandly towards one of the plates. “I’d pull your chair out for you, but it appears to be attached to the table.”

“I think I’ll manage,” Steve says, swinging one leg over the bench, then the other, and settling himself down. He waits for Eddie to follow suit before picking up his fork and then – just staring down at his plate for a moment. “Is this…” he starts uncertainly.

“It’s the spaghetti sauce you showed me how to make,” Eddie fills in. “Since you were convinced I’d perish trying to subsist on frozen pizza if you weren’t there to force meals on me.”

Eddie hadn’t done much cooking prior to befriending Steve; he could boil water and scramble an egg, but his ability and interest had mostly ended there. Then Steve had come along, earnestly (and transparently) bringing “leftovers” to the trailer to share with Eddie and Wayne, before he progressively took over their kitchen. Absolutely no one had had any complaints about this arrangement, though Steve had insisted on teaching Eddie how to make a few basic staples for himself – among which had been spaghetti sauce.

For a long moment, Steve says nothing, continuing to stare at his plate, brows furrowed.

“…and I haven’t,” Eddie says, trying to break the silence. “Perished, that is. In your absence. Obviously. Not that– not that I think you were really worrying about that, I just mean I’ve been making some of the stuff you showed me. Is all.”

“I’m just… kind of surprised you remembered, I guess,” Steve says, glancing up at Eddie, expression unreadable in the flickering light around them. “I wasn’t sure if you were actually interested or if you were just humoring me, when I showed you all that stuff.”

“I still have all the recipes you have me,” Eddie says – and he does: a small stack of notecards that Steve had stolen from Robin and covered in his surprisingly neat handwriting, detailing things like when to add butter to this and how much garlic to add to that, which has a permanent home in a drawer in Eddie’s kitchen.

“Oh,” Steve says, and nothing more.

“But don’t leave me in suspense, tell me how I did,” Eddie insists, attempting to push past the awkwardness he’d brought upon them while simultaneously shoving his mouth full of pasta in order to keep from pulling out any new touchy topics.

Steve twirls up a forkful of spaghetti and brings it to his mouth, spending a long moment chewing thoughtfully.

“Well?” Eddie asks.

Steve nods and swallows. “I mean, I’ve had better,” he says with a shrug, and Eddie experiences a moment of genuine distress before he spots the smirk tugging at Steve’s lips.

Eddie kicks at him under the table and Steve laughs, and Eddie can’t help but join him.

“Don’t be shy, baby, tell me how you really feel,” Eddie drawls, and Steve snickers again.

“Trust me, I will,” he says. But then: “It’s good, Eddie. You did good.”

Knocked off balance by the casual sincerity, Eddie goes quiet, and they eat for a few minutes in silence.

“So,” Eddie finally says, “I’m sure this is a great shock to you, but I’ve never actually done this before.”

Steve glances up at him. “Eaten spaghetti in a gazebo?” he asks, so dry that even Eddie’s not quite sure if he’s being sarcastic.

“The dating thing,” Eddie clarifies, instead of trying to figure it out. “What exactly are you supposed to do on a first date?”

Something about Steve’s expression goes off again – that same, weird, false look he’d had the other day that Eddie hadn’t been able to ferret out the source of. He’s about to ask what’s wrong when Steve shrugs, taking a quick pull from his beer.

“I guess it’s usually the getting-to-know-you stuff. Favorite movie, what kind of music you listen to, hobbies – that sort of thing,” he says.

“Huh.” Eddie screws his mouth to the side, thinking it over. “Seems… kinda boring. But, if you insist!” He leans forward on the table, resting his chin in his hands and batting his eyelashes at Steve. “So, tell me about yourself, handsome.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “It’s not like that’s what you have to do. I’m pretty sure dates are just supposed to be… you know, being with someone you like. Putting aside time just to do something with them,” he says. “Doesn’t matter what it is, you have a good time because you’re doing it together.”

“Oh,” Eddie says quietly, his humor fading beneath a bright flare of fondness. “That– that sounds better, yeah.”

“I think so, too,” Steve says, smiling across the table at Eddie.

“Well, then.” Eddie takes a chance and slowly slides his hand forwards until it’s resting over Steve’s on top of the table, inwardly doing a little dance when Steve remains relaxed beneath his touch. “Under those parameters, do you think we’re having a successful first date?”

And that’s when Steve pulls back, drawing his hand from beneath Eddie’s and averting his gaze, shrugging shoulders that have gone tense. “Sure, yeah.” He glances back up and offers a smile that’s trying very hard to be sincere but is underscored by something Eddie still can’t put his finger on. “Seriously, this is really nice, Eddie.”

“What am I saying?” Eddie asks.

“What?” Steve’s brows draw together in confusion.

“I keep saying something that’s upsetting you and I can’t– like, I can’t figure out what it is,” Eddie admits. “But I don’t want to keep doing it.”

“I’m not upset,” Steve says, bristling slightly under the skeptical look Eddie sends him. “I’m not. I’m– it’s stupid, alright? I’m fine.”

“It’s not stupid,” Eddie says, and Steve scoffs.

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“Well then tell me.”

Frowning, Steve looks back down at his plate, pushing the last few strands of spaghetti around with his fork. “It’s – seriously, it’s dumb. Like, I know that, alright? It’s just that you keep calling this our first date and I guess… I thought of something else as our first date. That’s all.”

Oh, fuck.

Eddie is an idiot. Fuck.

Of course Steve thinks of something else as their first date. He’d thought they were dating, so of course he’d thought of their outings as dates. Dinners, the movies, aimless walks around town – time set aside to be with someone you like, to just do something together. And here Eddie is again, shoving how little he’d thought of those times in Steve’s face.

“Shit, Steve, I’m sorry,” Eddie says quickly, and Steve shakes his head.

“It’s fine, I told you, I know it’s ridiculous–”

“It’s not.”

“–and I don’t have to get all hung up over it. It wasn’t even a date if we didn’t both think of it that way, right? So we can just look at this as– like, take two.”

Eddie purses his lips. “Even if we didn’t both think of it as a date, it was important to you.”

Steve shrugs and then, steady and deliberate, puts his hand over Eddie’s, curling his fingers around Eddie’s palm. “Well, tonight can be important to both of us,” he says, offering Eddie a small smile. “And I don’t want to ruin it. I really am having a good time.”

The only reason Eddie can imagine that he would be even remotely this lucky is if the universe is trying to make up for the debacle that was last spring (but then again, seen in the reverse, he can’t imagine why the universe would be inflicting him on Steve; he’ll have to keep thinking on that one). And on the one hand, he’s determined not to waste this opportunity – neither Steve’s good will nor his second chance. But on the other hand–

He can’t not ask.

Shifting his hand a little so he can wrap his fingers around Steve’s, Eddie takes a breath and bites the bullet. “Okay, but what… were you thinking of as our first date?”

For a long minute, Steve says nothing, and Eddie tries not to panic, tries not to assume that he’s just ruined everything by admitting he doesn’t even know which instance Steve is talking about, and mostly fails. But then Steve takes a breath and shakes his head.

“It’s… kinda stu–”

“Don’t say it,” Eddie cuts in sharply, warning, before he can stop himself. “I’m sure it’s not. Tell me about it.”

Steve shoots Eddie a chagrined kind of smile before turning his eyes to the surface of the table. “It was at the diner,” he says, and Eddie only just holds himself back from asking which time, because they’ve gone to the tiny diner off the side of the road near Forest Hills together more times than he can count; it’s within walking distance of Eddie’s place, and it tends to be their go-to when they want to go out but have no particular destination in mind. “It was that first night. The first time we kissed.”

It hits Eddie like a jab to the sternum that Steve chooses to phrase it that way: the first time they kissed. Because if Eddie remembers one thing for certain, it’s that the first night they kissed had also been the first night they’d had sex – and yet it’s the kiss that Steve focuses on. It’s the kiss that had been important to him.

“I guess there wasn’t anything that special about that night. Nothing different. We just had fun,” Steve says quietly. “Pretty sure we drove everyone else crazy fighting over the jukebox, especially since most of the songs in there suck, anyway, and you were telling me about what happened during your last game and you tried to draw it on a napkin with ketchup and a toothpick, which… did not turn out well, and you kept stealing fries off my plate–”

“Because you kept dipping them in your milkshake and I was telling you that it was gross!” Eddie remembers.

“Of course, that part stands out to you,” Steve grouses, though there’s a bit of a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.

“Hey, you made a believer out of me. Fries and vanilla shake, I have to admit it’s good,” Eddie says, and Steve’s smile grows a little more.

“But, yeah, like I said, it wasn’t… special, I guess, I just remember thinking that I wanted to do that with you all the time. I wanted to do everything with you all the time, whatever it was,” Steve says. “And then when we were back in your room, sitting on your bed, you were looking at me like– I thought you wanted to–”

“I did,” Eddie says quickly. “I wanted to kiss you. I wanted you to kiss me. I don’t know, I was – kinda turned around about it, but I knew I was glad that you did it first, because I was too chickenshit to ever do it myself.”

Eddie remembers this part clearly; something had seemed different about Steve when they’d gotten back from the diner. There had been something softer and lighter about him that had made Eddie want to reach out and touch – an urge he wasn’t unfamiliar with. He is, after all, queer as hell, and—though he feels like an ass for phrasing it this way, now—Steve is really hot. Of course he’d had thoughts about Steve before; he just tended to ignore them, because they were friends, and the thought that anything more could happen between them seemed outlandish.

But then Steve had leaned in and kissed him.

The first one had been close-mouthed and soft, almost tentative, sweet, but ensuing kisses had been deeper, more wanton, and before Eddie had quite registered the shift, Steve was in his lap and his tongue was practically down Steve’s throat and he’d thought – well, maybe there could be a little more between them. Maybe things didn’t have to change all that much.

He'd rolled with it, and then he’d rolled them over, and then he’d helped Steve get rid of his shirt and he’d ditched his own, and then he’d begun the process of learning how to wring as many sweet, pleasured noises as possible out of Steve.

Now, back at the picnic table in the fluttering light of nearly a dozen cheap candles, Steve is looking at Eddie oddly, like he’s not quite sure what to make of him.

“Well… since I had kind of been looking at that night as when we, uh– got together, I just – yeah, made sense to me. First date.” Steve shrugs.

A frown pulls across Eddie’s face, and he fights to keep it at bay, so he doesn’t give Steve the wrong impression – he’s not upset with Steve, he’s just upset. He’s upset that he can’t look at that night the same way Steve had – that he hadn’t experienced it the same way. He wishes he had; that he’d let himself consider what it might be like not if he and Steve could be friends and have sex, but if he and Steve could be more than that.

He squeezes Steve’s fingers, still wrapped in his own, and catches Steve’s eye when he looks up. “You know… I mean, I know that not all of the time we spent together has the same significance for me that it did for you, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t important to me,” Eddie says, and maybe it’s all he can say for himself, but at least it’s true. “I love spending time with you. Even when I’m complaining, I’m doing it with joy.”

Steve cocks an eyebrow at him. “With joy?”

“Yep. Entirely joyful complaining,” Eddie says seriously.

“Well, you do like complaining.” Steve smirks.

“I sure the fuck do. It’s what makes us such a good pair,” Eddie replies, and Steve laughs.

They talk for a while longer after that, lighter and easier than before, but eventually it gets too chilly to reasonably keep sitting around. They’d been blessed with unusually mild weather that night, but late October is still late October, and the temperature has dropped since the sun’s gone down.

They work together to blow out all the candles before they end up dropping them in a nearby garbage can once they realize that the wax is still liquid and Eddie can’t put them back in his bag (“Okay, I thought of almost everything,” Eddie insists as he produces a flashlight to light their way back to the van). Eddie turns up the heat before pulling back out into the road, and they take the drive back to Steve’s house in contented silence.

Eddie parks and turns the van off once they’re in the driveway, and Steve watches with curiosity as Eddie gets out with him, but says nothing as they walk up to the front door together.

“Well,” Eddie says once they reach the porch, “I had a great time tonight. D’you think I can see you again?”

Steve blinks at him, doing almost a doubletake as he looks from Eddie to his door and then back again.

“Do you– You don’t want to come in?” Steve asks, a little bewildered.

“Oh, no, I very much do,” Eddie assures him. “But this is take two, right? And I said I was gonna do it right, and that means no sex until the third date. At least I’m pretty sure that’s the rule.”

Steve laughs, but quickly quiets when all Eddie does is smile at him. “You’re serious,” he says, a bit flat with disbelief.

“Completely.” Eddie nods. “I’m romancing you, remember?”

There’s another moment of quiet stillness from Steve before a slow, delighted grin begins to grow on his face. “Well, in that case…” he says, “I had a great time, too.” He leans in and pecks a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips, short and almost shy. “Call me.”

And then he’s gone, the front door closing behind him before Eddie can even register what’s happened.

Eddie barely even remembers getting back into the van, but if he had to guess, he’d say he probably floated there.

It should be ridiculous – he’s had Steve’s mouth on pretty much every part of him, he’s had Steve on top of him and underneath him and crying out his name and begging him for more, he’s had Steve naked and sated and curled around him, and yet it’s one short kiss that nearly short-circuits him.

It should be ridiculous, but Eddie thinks it might actually be the best thing in the world.

Part 8

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#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddiesteve #consistent chapter length? never heard of her #anyway have some date fluff. we've got... a little more stuff coming up #solar wrote

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reveluving · 7 months

Text

the bump in the night ; rick flag x reader

summary: someone made Mrs Flag cry, and her family is not having it.

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, shadow-magic f!reader, reverse comfort & humour!

a/n: this AU is based on this piece I made a while back, 'cause you already know I can't do this special without hubby Rick and the kids! hope you enjoy it & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» wanna know what I have in store this fall? come & check out my m.list for 'reve's quirky reverie 🕷️'!

'For now, they had a plan, hoping it could bring a smile to your face.' ;

Coming home to his daughter's hugs had become an everyday thing if Rick didn't have to work overtime, but if the flicker of sadness in her eyes was anything to go by, something had to have happened while he was away.

“Mrs Bedford was saying bad stuff to mama while we were at the park.”

It was the same thing she told her brothers when they got home from school, and just like them, it was enough for Rick to get the whole picture.

Ah, Mrs Bedford. Or as the neighbourhood youngsters, children and teenagers alike, like to call her 'the modern witch of the road', and not in the cool way. Her husband was no better, always bugging you at any given opportunity. The worst part was Mrs Bedford always antagonized you for it, even if she knew you didn’t entertain her husband’s behaviour. It was also extremely hypocritical of her, considering she herself has tried to make her move on Rick. A lot. Only to be met with disappointment each time.

Her children were just as bad, too, to put it lightly.

“What did she say?” It was the green light Irene needed before she explained what had happened to a T, courtesy of her father’s eagle eye. Unlike most days, it was just you and Irene visiting the park since your sons had football practice.

The two of you were feeding the ducks when Mrs Bedford came up to you.

“You on your own?” Was the first thing she asked you before you questionably said ‘yes’, despite Irene being there too, and the little girl realized Mrs Bedford wouldn’t have gone off on a tangent about you and your ‘possibly tainted history’ if her father or brothers were around in the first place.

“I don’t know what you did but I can see it in your eyes, Flag. You’re no saint. You can fool the others with your little flower shop and your so-called angelic kids, but not me.”

Though Mrs Bedford knew nothing about your powers or your time in Belle Reve, instead, spewing hate out of jealousy and hatred for you for being the favourable neighbour, she wasn’t completely wrong. You have hurt people, you’ve even killed some, but they were for the greater good. Since your freedom from hell on earth, you’ve barely used your umbrakineses. It wasn’t until the birth of your children, to which all three of them gained your abilities did you realized you couldn’t run from who you really were—it wasn’t right nor fair to them.

Then, telling them your story as a criminal and how their dad was once your enemy was another thing. You weren’t sure what reaction you were expecting, but it was certainly not amazement and sparkles in their eyes. As they grew older, they began to make sense of how their parents somehow knew people like Aunt Harley, Uncle Robert and hell, even Nanaue.

And at that point in time, Mrs Bedford reminded you of Waller, turning you into submission as you could do nothing but listen to her make a mockery out of you for turning over a new leaf. Irene had to watch your face drop as the woman insulted you, and she knew she had to tell her family about it.

Irene insisted that she was fine about heading home early, even if you tried to convince her otherwise. She wanted nothing more than to do something about that glazed look in your eyes.

As soon as you stepped foot into the living room, a tear rolled down your cheek. You couldn't help but apologize to her, to everyone if they were with you then. You weren’t entirely sure if it was because you seemed weak over a bunch of words or their fate of ending up with you as the wife and a mother of their family.

Irene shook her head, hugging you with her face in your tummy.

"You're not a mean person, mama. You're the nicest and coolest mama we could ever ask for, and we love you."

It was simple, something you've heard of thousands of times in your lifetime, but you very much needed it today.

Ever the sweet girl, she accompanied you as you lay in your bed, telling you random stories about what she painted during art class or what she ate at lunch, anything but the time Mrs Bedford’s son, Kyle pushed her off the swing while his older brother, Blake laughed and praised him for doing so. You didn’t need to know that.

Not yet.

You listened with a warm smile, embarrassed but nonetheless thankful for how observant she was of your feelings before eventually dozing off.

Irene was careful yet quick to jump off the bed, running downstairs to shush Richie and Ethan as they returned home.

The more she explained, the brighter their eyes unnaturally glowed. Richie was starting to look like their father as he crossed his arms, listening to her like a police officer, while Ethan seemed like he was already thinking of ways to counter the Bedford’s undignified acts.

Basically, the Bedfords were not the greatest people. Each and every one of them.

Though they had a myriad of ideas, they weren’t sure how much their father would appreciate it, even if it was for your sake. Still, they thanked Irene for being there for you, promising that something would be done, no matter what it would be.

For now, they had a plan, hoping it could bring a smile to your face.

After an unexpected nap, you came down to find your kids huddled on the couch, whispering and hushing each other. Curious, you approached them.

Ethan was the first to notice you, offering you a grin before showing you what was in their hands, “Look, ma, I think we got it.”

You leaned in to take a closer look, only for your breath to hitch at the sight of life on their palms. There, they showed you the differing mass of shadows they conjured, a tougher one you just taught them about a week ago. You have always loved this trick as a kid, and it only aided your sanity when you were by your lonesome in the penitentiary. In a way, you were replacing what life truly was by making your own, even if they were temporary because there was no telling when or if you’d ever be free.

Yet, here they were, prompting joy and pride as they held the wispy animals of their choice; Richie with what seemed to be an adorable little puppy, Ethan creatively emulated a bioluminescent jellyfish and Irene…

Oh, Irene.

She scarcely remembered how much you loved making her laugh by conjuring butterflies when she was still very little if not for the twins confirming it.

The butterfly was as small as her hand, but the wings were majestic, idly flapping before flying over to you, leaving cloudy black trails and landing on your outstretched finger.

You stared at their creations ever so lovingly, already on the brink of tears. You were just as mad at yourself for doubting your worth, and your potential, just because of the things you had to do in the past, for the sake of the person you were now.

You embraced Irene in a tight hug before pulling your boys in as well. You sniffled, absolutely joyous and blessed to be surrounded by the most loving people. Nothing could deter you from this, not even as the shadow puppy yipped and chased the jellyfish and butterfly in excitement. Your cat, Tofu, must’ve heard the commotion, too, as she came from the kitchen to check, only to be frightened and jump on the couch with you as the puppy came running to her.

Rick finally arrived about two hours later, coming home to hear laughter before he saw Irene running across the room, followed by Tofu and the shadow puppy in tow. The jellyfish laid on Richie’s head like a nest whereas the butterfly decided to make Ethan’s shoulder its home as they hung out with you on the couch.

“Daddy!” Irene greeted him before running over to him. He didn’t question the questioning look she gave him just yet and instead, hoisted her up, laughing as Tofu and the puppy pawed at his bootlaces.

“What’s going on here?” He raised his brows, amused by what could be described as a fever dream of a sight.

“The kids learnt how to make little lives.” You giggled, allowing Rick to sit next to you as you scooted over.

“And I got a new hat,” Richie gestured to the jellyfish, who he has now dubbed as Jelly. As if it understood, Jelly immediately floated away, leaving Richie’s hair flattened, “Never mind.”

You shared a laugh as he deadpanned before you turned to Rick, “Was work okay?”

“Yeah, the usual. Decorated the place today, actually.” He took his phone out of his pocket, opening his gallery and showing you and the kids the spookily tacky decor that furnished his workplace.

“Did you really paint ‘dead inside, don’t open’ on the entrance door?” The twins gawked.

“Fitting, ain't it?” Rick joked, prompting smiles and chuckles from you once more before falling back on the couch, “But at least I’m off tomorrow, so I was thinking we could eat out for dinner.”

“Oh! We should head to Pop’s since they’re also offering their apple betty.” Ethan suggested.

“Well, I think that’s a good idea, so,” Richie trailed off, raising anticipation from the rest of you before jumping off the couch and running up the stairs. Ethan and Irene simultaneously gasped before the former took his sister out of Rick’s arms to chase their brother together. You and Rick could only watch with delight as Tofu and the shadow creatures followed them too.

“Everything okay?” He wanted to know, but he wouldn’t pry if you weren’t ready to tell him.

“Yeah,” You nodded, gazing down for a moment before continuing, “Something happened earlier but…”

“Richie! You better not lock the door or I swear to God!” Ethan’s voice rang out from upstairs, followed by Irene’s ‘language!’, and you couldn’t help but shake your head in amusement.

“It’s all good now.” You reassured him. You knew you could’ve told him, but it wasn’t worth dwelling on. You had children to nurture and a husband to take on the world with.

“The Bedfords?” He guessed. If it wasn’t them, then it had to be Mr Walker.

“The Bedfords,” You confirmed with a tight smile, “I’m just more upset that Irene was there to hear it.”

You didn’t explain any further and Rick took it as a sign to drop it. If they were able to make you this upset, then it was best to ask the kids instead.

“I’m sorry,” He pulled you to his chest, planting a slow and gentle kiss on your forehead. He rubbed your back, sighing at the very mention of that family. Rick loathed that they were influential enough to be one of the higher-ups of the school’s PTA, though he was confident that money was involved in it too. He hated that they were reasons why you’d come home ranting about how Mrs Bedford bugged you again, or when he had to make sure Mr Bedford knew he was making a promise and not an empty threat whenever it involved their kids and his, "You know I can talk to them."

It would do no good, but it was worth trying.

"No, you know how the Bedfords are. Don’t worry, okay? Not now,” You kissed the inside of his palm before pressing your lips against his, soft, sensual and safe. Rick moved forward, deepening the kiss as held the nape of your neck. You pulled away but not before nuzzling his nose, “We should be celebrating.”

He nodded, though he knew it would only linger in his mind for a while. Still, he adhered to your wishes, standing up before offering you his hand to get ready, “Right, right. Shall we?”

You snorted, placing your hand in his the way a princess would when a prince asks for a dance. Unexpectedly, he twirled you around, wrapping his arms around you he pulled you in, chest to chest. You playfully smacked him, though it did very little to wipe off the pleased look on his face as the two of you headed to your room.

You and the boys were the first to head out to the front yard, chatting and evaluating the decors of the houses while waiting for Rick and Irene.

“What happened today?” He asked his daughter quietly as they stood at the front door, helping with her shoes while she slid on a jacket.

“Mrs Bedford was saying bad stuff to mama while we were at the park.” She whispered back, swinging her arms as she watched her father tie her shoelace, “Like, really mean stuff. No one was around except us so she was kinda loud, too.”

Rick fumed, clenching his jaw as he could already hear and picture whatever nonsense she loved to spit out.

“Mama got kinda quiet when we came home, and then she started crying. About how she’s sorry she was a criminal and how we’re ‘stuck’ with her powers.” She added. If anything, she and the boys thought your abilities were the coolest thing to have ever happened to them.

He shook his head—who wouldn't crack after being subjected to their ways for so long? He hummed, hiding the seething resentment by ruffling Irene's hair.

"Can you help me distract your mother while I talk to the boys for a bit?" She nodded diligently, skipping over to you before Rick called out to his sons, "Need some help, boys."

They rushed over, glancing at you before Ethan spoke up first, "She told you?"

"Yeah." Rick replied as he locked the door.

"Can't we do something about it?" Richie asked with a frown.

"You boys are not punching Blake again." Rick reminded them with a small smile.

"You didn't seem to mind it," Ethan mirrored his father's amusement, "He was yelling at our teammate and encouraged his troll brother to push Irene off a swing."

"I'm mad, too," Rick was more than mad, but he couldn't let his emotions run wild, "Look, we'll think of something, alright? For now, just make sure she's happy."

That's all they ever wanted.

The drive to Pop's was a lively one, and so was the dinner itself. Though you knew you'd be thinking about Mrs Bedford's words every once in a while, the smiles and laughter of your family were already a welcoming distraction as it is.

Midnight rolled around, and everyone had returned to their rooms with sore cheeks and a full stomach. You were the first to slip under the covers after a shower, hoping you wouldn't be too tired as you waited for Rick, though it didn't work.

By the time Rick got out of the bathroom, you were peacefully asleep, your face just a breath away from your husband's pillow as his scent soothed you like no other.

Rick smiled to himself, changing into his PJs before sitting on your side of the bed. The dip roused you from your slumber just a little.

"Rick?" You murmured, fluttering your lashes tiredly.

"Forgot to get some water," He caressed your cheek before bending down to kiss it, "I'll be back."

You mustered a closed-eye smile and before you knew it, you drifted off once again, lulled by the way he patted your back.

Once the coast was clear, he moved off the bed, silently slipping out and closing the door before heading over to the twins' room. He knocked on the door, just enough for them to hear before doing the same with Irene's door and headed downstairs.

Rick sat down at the dining table with a glass of cold water, arms crossed and lost in his own thoughts before hearing light footsteps approaching.

Richie, Ethan and Irene carefully pulled their chairs back before taking a seat, and just like that, the discussion began.

But it didn't seem like they were getting anywhere and at some point, they just started shit-talking.

"Man, I wish coach would just kick Blake out." Ethan groaned, his head falling back.

"Tell me about it. He's shit at quarterback." Richie clicked his tongue.

"Boys." Rick warned them, partially because his youngest was listening.

"Sorry." They apologized but Irene didn't seem to mind.

"How about…" She chimed in, tapping her finger on her chin, "We scare them?"

"Like…?" Richie cocked his head, hoping she'd say more than just that.

"I don't know, I just thought it'd be cool since it's Halloween and stuff. And, well, maybe we could use our powers, but I know mama and daddy wouldn't want that." She shrugged, pouting because she hadn't thought it far enough.

"It would be a miracle to scare them without using our powers in the first place," Richie sighed, looking over to his father, "What do you think, dad?"

No reply.

"Dad?" Ethan followed suit as the three of them raised their brows.

“How far are you in your shadow puppet practice?” Rick asked out of the blue, staring ahead as though imagining whatever idea he had played out.

“Uh, pretty far, I think? Ma taught us how to merge our shadows into one if we wanted to make a bigger animal.” Richie answered, earning affirmative nods from his siblings.

“How big?”

“Like, this big!” Irene opened her arms wide to let him know just how big of a monster they would be able to make if they wanted to. They haven’t, there was no reason to, but the more their father asked, the more it piqued their interest.

Rick thought it through for a moment. It has been a while since he has seen you make that one particular lifeform, but it was worth a shot. If it were able to render Waller speechless, then it’ll definitely make the Bedfords piss their pants.

No actual attacks, and definitely no killings. But he’ll make sure they shudder at the mere thought of Halloween. Put the fear of God in them. They had it coming, too, stomping on other neighbours’ happiness for years just for the fun of it.

He just had to play it safe.

He slowly broke into a sinister smile.

“You three ever heard of a hellhound?”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» a/n: ahh hubby rick <3 ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

#reve's quirky reverie 🕷#— reve's reverie 🌹#rick flag #rick flag x reader #rick flag x female reader #rick flag x f!reader #rick flag x you #rick flag imagine #rick flag fanfiction #colonel flag #colonel rick flag #colonel rick flag x reader #tss 2021 #tss #joel kinnaman #husband rick #hubby rick

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thesapphictimelady · 2 months

Text

Ad Astra Per Aspera Chapter 2

Word Count: 2.2K

TW: Implied previous domestic abuse, references to alcohol

A/N: I’d like to point out I am NOT a plumber, the plumbing mentioned in this chapter is something that worked in my old classroom. It is not meant to be a solution for everything! Anyways, this is not proofread but I hope you enjoy it! Comments are always appreciated!

“New kid, time to wake up,”

Cassie groaned and rolled over on the couch, throwing her arm over her eyes, “Go away, Jenny, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Jenny? Geez kid, how much did you drink last night?” Melissa chuckled, “It’s me. Ms. Schemmenti?”

Cassie sat up, “Oh my god, Ms. Schemmenti I’m so sorry! I-I thought you were…”

“Don’t worry about it kid, get dressed. We gotta get to school.”

Cassie hastily grabbed a dress out of one of the boxes that were strewn around the small space and headed into the bathroom to change. Once she had pulled her dress on, she set to work removing the makeup from last night and reapplying. She winced when she saw the bruising on her neck was still a sickly green color but she made quick work of covering it up and then applying some mascara and lip gloss.

When she left the bathroom, she saw Melissa had settled herself on the couch.

“I’m really sorry about the mess,” Cassie said, “This was all I could find on such short notice and it’s…it’s really small.”

Melissa snorted, “Really small is certainly one way to put it.”

Cassie flushed and started digging through a box until she produced a thin gray sweater to layer over her pink dress.

“Ms. Schemmenti, you don’t have to wait for me. I know you drove here last night,”

“Nah, I’m giving you a ride. I might as well. Plus the parking might be limited today,”

“Why would the parking be limited?” Cassie asked, pulling on her shoes, “There were tons of empty spots yesterday,”

“The Eagles are playing and Ava rents out parking spaces,” Melissa said, twirling her car keys around one finger.

“Is she allowed to do that?”

“Ava just does whatever she wants. Besides, sometimes you gotta bend some rules”

Cassie opened the front door and the two stepped outside. Despite the time, it was already hot out and Cassie was glad she had chosen a thin sweater.

“Come on,” Melissa said, opening the car door, “I want to make sure we get seats with Barb.”

Cassie got into the car and set her bag by her seat. Melissa’s car smelled like vanilla but there was a lingering scent of menthol. The drive over to the school was quiet, and Cassie rested her head on the cool window. Before she knew it, they had pulled into the school parking lot. It was already crowded and the smell of barbecue filled the air.

“Barbeque? It’s 7 in the morning!”

Melissa shrugged, “They get started early. Now let’s get inside.”

Just like Melissa had said, Ava was hungover as hell. The lights in the gym were dim and the principal was wearing sunglasses and sipping gatorade.

“Hi,” Cassie said, going to introduce herself, “I’m Cassiopeia. I started yesterday.”

Ava waved her away, “Girl, it’s too early for this,”

Melissa snorted and pulled Cassie over to where the folding chairs were set up, setting her bag on a third seat for Barb.

“I’ll be right back,” Melissa whispered, before going back to where Ava was and whispering something to her. Ava pulled her sunglasses down to eye Cassie before handing Melissa a gatorade.

The redhead handed the gatorade to the younger teacher, and then produced a bottle of aspirin, “Here, you’re gonna need these. That hangover is gonna hit you. Plus it’ll help hold up the fact that I told everyone that you went home sick yesterday”

Cassie took the aspirin and settled into the cold metal chair, closing her eyes.

“Cassiopeia!” Jacob called.

Cassie smiled and waved at him, “Hi Jacob,”

“I’m so glad you’re still here!” he said, “I was worried something might have happened when Melissa said you went home sick!”

“Something did happen,” Melissa cut in, “She got tsick.”

Jacob flushed, “I know that! I just meant…well, Melissa you don’t have a great track record with aides and teachers,”

Cassie held up a hand to stop him, “I’m fine. I feel much better today.”

“Well that’s good! I want you to meet Gregory and Janine,” Jacob said, gesturing at the pair behind him, “They weren’t here yesterday so they didn’t get to meet you. Guys this is Cassiopeia. Did you know…”

Cassie closed her eyes again, shutting out Jacob’s explanation of her name.

“I’m glad you’re here Cassie,” Barb said softly, taking her seat next to them, “Melissa told me you weren’t feeling well. How are you feeling this morning? You look a bit pale.”

“I’m okay, Mrs. Howard, thank you. Ms. Schemmenti brought me some aspirin and Ava gave me a gatorade.”

“If you need anything, don’t be afraid to ask. They aren’t comfortable, but if you need to take a nap I can get out the mats my kindergartners use.”

Cassie smiled softly, “Thank you, Mrs. Howard,”

“Alright nerds, find your seats,” Ava said, “Let’s get this started so I can go take a nap. I mean, run the school”

Melissa rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.

“First things first, we have a new teacher,” Ava said, “Her name is…Princess Leia or something,”

“Cassiopeia!” Jacob corrected her.

“Yeah that. She’s in Ms Schemmenti’s classroom until we can open up a classroom for her. Next, the sinks in the 1st floor bathrooms are backed up so until Mr. Johnson gets back or the city sends someone, I’m putting hand sanitizer in the bathrooms,”

Cassiopeia raised her hand, “Do the sinks share pipes?”

“Girl, how am I supposed to know? What do you think I am, the city?”

”Yes,” Melissa cut in, “the sinks share pipes and a wall.”

“I can fix it then,”

“No!” Barbara said quickly, “No, these things are best left to the experts. Do you all remember when Janine tried to fix the electricity?”

“No, I really can fix it. It’s super simple to temporarily fix it, at least until a professional can take a look. I just need two plungers and someone to help me.”

“Fine,” Ava said, rolling her eyes, “Schemmenti, you can help Peia,”

Cassie wrinkled her nose at the nickname, “Peia? Really?”

“Told ya someone would give you a weird nickname,” Melissa whispered.

“Janine has some team building activities this afternoon,” Ava continued, “And Gregory and Jacob have worked together to cook some of the produce from the garden for lunch. Now get to your classrooms and do…whatever it is you people do.”

“Come on,” Melissa said, grabbing their bags, “Let’s put our stuff away and I’ll find the plungers,”

Once they got to the classroom, Melissa set their bags on her desk and dragged a second chair over to it.

“Sidown kid,”

“Don’t we need to get the plungers?” Cassie asked, tugging on her sleeves.

“That can wait,” Melissa said, closing the classroom door, “I wanna talk to you,”

“Ms. Schemmenti, I already told you-”

“No, ya didn’t. Lemme finish. I wanna talk to ya about what you said this morning.”

“This morning?”

“Ya called me Jenny.”

Cassie groaned and put her head in her hands, “Ms. Schemmenti, I was half asleep!”

“Did Jenny do that to ya?” Melissa gestured to her arms.

“Ms. Schemmenti, I-”

“S’okay,” the redhead said, “I get it. Let’s just go get the plungers.”

“I got ‘em,” Melissa said, her cheeks slightly pink from running around the school.

”Perfect, you take the boys, I’ll take the girls. We’ll probably need to call each other to be able to hear.”

Melissa nodded and Cassiopeia went into the girls bathroom, locking the door behind her and taking her sweater off. She quickly dialed the redheads number.

“Hey, okay, so when I say go, put the plunger over the drain and start plunging,”

“And you’re sure this will work?” Melissa asked.

Cassie bit her lip, “Well…no. But it worked at my old school! It’s worth a shot.”

“If you say so, kid.”

“Okay,” Cassie cradled her phone between her shoulder and her cheek while she got the plunger into position, “Go,”

Within a couple minutes of plunging, the dirty water that was in the sink started to drain.

“I’m impressed kid,” Melissa said through the phone, “I didn’t expect that to work,”

Cassie grinned as she set the plunger down, “I told you I could do it! At my old school, this happened every other week.”

“What did the plumbers say?”

“Oh, we never had anyone come out to look at it! The district said it wasn’t necessary,”

“That’s ridiculous. Alright, I should get these plungers back to the closet.”

“Hang on, I gotta unlock the door,” Cassie hung up and tugged her sweater back on. Melissa knocked on the door and Cassie unlocked it.

“Geez kid, you look like you need some fresh air. Lemme put these away. You head back to the classroom.”

Cassiopeia made her way back to the classroom, collapsing into a chair and chugging her gatorade. She tossed the empty bottle into the trash can and reached into her bag, pulling out a folder of paperwork.

“Hey,” Janine said, poking her head into the room, “We didn’t get a chance to talk this morning. I’m Janine, I’m the other second grade teacher!”

“Hi,” Cassie said, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m glad you’re here! I see you met Melissa already.”

“Ya, she did,” Melissa said from behind Janine, “Whatdya need Janine.”

“Nothing! Just wanted to introduce myself! Actually, I’m trying to get some clocks to teach time…”

“Did you check the teacher supply closet?”

“Yeah but those clocks are made of cardboard and they’re falling apart!”

Melissa sighed, “Okay okay, I’ll see what I can do.”

Janine squealed, “Thank you! Cassiopeia, you are working with the best teacher!”

Cassie laughed as Janine danced out of the room.

“She sure is…energetic,”

“That’s one word for her,” Melissa said, wrestling one of the windows open, “Want me to close the door so you can take off that sweater?”

“You don’t have to! What if one of the teachers need you?”

“They can email me,” Melissa said, closing and locking the door, “Ya look…actually you look pale. Your cheeks are pink but the rest of you looks…” The redhead held her wrist to Cassie’s forehead, “You’re not running a fever. Do you need to go see the nurse?”

“No, I’m fine, Ms. Schemmenti. I’m not sick. I-it’s makeup. I probably put too much concealer on my neck this morning.”

Melissa dropped her hand, “I’m sorry kid, I thought-”

“It’s okay,” Cassie cut her off, “I’m fine. I just…want to get to work.”

“Ya know, if you need someone to talk to…”

“Thanks, but I’d like to grade some of these math tests right now.”

“Okay kid,” Melissa handed her a red pen and a stack of papers, “Make yourself at home wherever.”

Cassiopeia tossed her sweater on one of the desks and went to sit on one of the beanbags in the back. Once she had found a comfortable position to sit in, she pulled out her earbuds, putting one in and starting her playlist while she started grading.

Melissa sat at her desk, glasses perched on her nose as she tried to focus on the papers in front of her. She couldn’t get the girl in her classroom out of her head. She set her pen down and put her head in her hands, thinking back to that morning.

After Cassie had fallen asleep on the couch, Melissa had set to work making the pizza dough. She preferred making it from scratch. The young woman had been curled into a ball and Melissa knew she wasn’t sleeping well. She would whimper or cry out every few minutes but Melissa couldn’t bear to wake her. She had looked exhausted, like she hadn’t slept in months.

Once the dough was finished, she had knelt on the floor and stroked Cassiopeia’s hair until she settled. She had wiped tears from the sleeping girls face and sung softly to her.

“Ms. Schemmenti?” Cassie said, breaking Melissa from her memories.

“What’s up kid?”

“Do you want me to grade those? You look a little distracted.”

“No, I’m fine. Just a little distracted.”

Cassie nodded and put her earbud back in.

“Melissa,” the door handle jiggled and the redhead jumped up and threw Cassie’s sweater at her.

“I’m coming!”

Cassie tugged her sweater on and Melissa unlocked the door, letting a confused Barbara into the room.

“Hey Barb!” Melissa said.

Barbara looked back and forth between the two, “Is everything okay in here?”

“Of course, Mrs. Howard!” Cassiopeia said, standing up. The second she stood, however, the room began to spin and she swayed slightly.

“Cassiopeia?” Barbara said, rushing across the classroom, “Sweetheart are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, sitting back down, “It’s just…it’s just hot in here.”

Barb glanced over at Melissa, who was already rummaging in her mini fridge to get a bottle of water.

“Here kid,” she said, “drink this.”

“Why don’t we take this off…” Barb reached for Cassie’s sweater.

“No!” Cassie and Melissa said at the same time.

“I need my sweater, Mrs. Howard,” Cassie whispered.

“If you say so…” Barb said.

“Kid, you didn’t eat breakfast this morning did you?”

“No…we were in a hurry…”

“Melissa, go get Cassiopeia the apple off my desk,” Barb said.

“I can’t take your food!” Cassie argued.

“You aren’t taking, I am giving it to you. And you will eat it. Stay here. I’m going to see if Ava has a fan we can use to cool you down.”

#abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader

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amazingmaeve · 1 year

Text

BADASS CHICKS

miguel diaz x fem!reader

summary — johnny and miguel are looking for girl students to join eagle fang and one place they go to look is at the skate park where Y/N loves to roller skate. when they approach she is a bit tense about joining karate since the school fight.

warnings — fluff, mentions of fighting, flirting (if that’s even a warning), swearing, unsafe skating

word count — 956

authors note — this is going to be set in season 4 episode 6 where they’re looking for girl fighters. also him and sam aren’t dating for the purpose of this timeline.

miguel diaz masterlist | cobra kai masterlist

Johnny and Miguel made their way through the skatepark. They had just gotten back from the school as they were trying to find girls for the karate tournament. They needed this actually Johnny needed this.

If they couldn’t find girl(s) to join their dojo or else they would be in deep shit and not be in the tournament at all. Miguel didn’t want that, he wanted to compete as he was the all valley champion the year before. He also wanted it to get rid of Cobra Kai since they were getting bigger with Silver coming in.

Since Johnny and Daniel made that deal with Silver and Kreese that if Cobra Kai won they would have to shut down both of their dojos. Miguel didn’t want that for Johnny or for his training. He still had a lot of things to learn even though he was the champ.

At least that is what Johnny told him.

“Sensei I just don’t get why we are in a skatepark,” Miguel questioned as they walked around people who were skating and giving them weird looks.

Probably because they weren’t skating and just walking around. Probably thought they were weirdos.

“Skating is badass and people who do that are already used to pain so if I could find a girl that’s here and is willing to hear me out we could find our girl champ,” Johnny explained as he looked around to find any girls.

“What does skating have to do with karate? They’re not the same thing,” Miguel asks, putting his hands into the pocket of his jacket.

“They aren’t but these people they do tricks and like I said before they know what pain is, so that means karate won’t be anything different,” Johnny says.

“There’s not any fighting in skating Sensei,” Miguel says.

“There was back in my day, these people can be crazy sometimes and that is exactly what I need for the girl champ,” Johnny scoffs.

“Hey guys watch out,” Y/N shouts as she comes in skating behind him but before they could do anything she ran into Miguel knocking the both of them down. “Great,” She mutters as she was on top of the boy.

She steadied her hands as she got up and held her hand out for Miguel. He blushed when he realized who it was. She was in his math class and once had a crush on her when he wasn’t with Sam or Tory. He grabbed and got up as well.

“Sorry about that but you guys should know at a skate park you should be skating,” Y/N explains as she points to her feet where she was wearing roller blades.

Before Miguel could say anything Johnny butt in.

“Hey shouldn't you be wearing a helmet, elbow pads, all that kind of stuff,” Johnny asks as he holds the flyers for his dojo.

“I don’t need them. I've been doing this for years and if I get hurt I just get back into the game,” Y/N explains as she looks at the middle aged man. “Wait, who are you?,” She questions before looking at Miguel. “I know him, I don't know you.”

“Have you ever thought about trying out for karate not only would it make you more badass, you can actually learn how to defend yourself,” Johnny tries to sell with a smile on his face.

“I don’t know, I really don’t feel like getting my ass kicked by a bunch of dudes from my high school,” Y/N explained as she kept herself steady on the pavement.

“We need more badass chicks in this world and I am willing to teach you how to be that,” Johnny explains but still sees a tentative look on her face. “Okay it can also get you into shape like Miguel here come on Miguel take your shirt off and show her all the progress you made,” He says using his last attempt.

“What,” Y/N says in shock.

“I am not doing that, Sensei,” Miguel says at the same time as her.

“I mean it wouldn’t be a bad sight to look at,” Y/N teases looking at Miguel as he feels himself get more shy. “But don’t worry I don’t need you doing that,” She says and gives him a little smile.

“Are you willing to try your hand at karate then,” Johnny interrupts as he feels himself start to get more and more annoyed.

“And this I won’t have to do some weird fight to do this because right now I can’t do that,” Y/N questions.

“Of course not, he teaches you how to fight and defend yourself,” Miguel reassures her, giving her arm a squeeze as she gives him a tiny smile, her heart beating faster and faster.

“Who knows you might be this year's all valley champion and that’s something you’d like right,” Johnny asks.

“It does sound good and I would like to learn how to defend myself, there are some weirdos in this world,” Y/N says before looking at Johnny. “Sure, I’ll come by tomorrow but just take it easy on me,” She says.

“No promises,” Johnny grins as he gives her the flier. “Tomorrow at 4,” He says. She nods as she skates a way.

“See you in school tomorrow,” Miguel awkwardly shouts, making her turn around and give him a smile and two thumbs up.

“You could try hiding the fact that you like her,” Johnny mutters as he felt more confident on how they could win.

“Was I that obvious,” Miguel asks as he feels embarrassed.

“You want the truth or the lie.”

“Truth.”

“Anyone in a 10 mile radius could see that you liked her.”

#miguel diaz #miguel diaz #miguel diaz x reader #miguel diaz x you #miguel diaz x y/n #miguel diaz smut #miguel diaz gif #miguel diaz imagine #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai x y/n #cobra kai x oc #cobra kai x you #cobra kai smut #cobra kai headcanons #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai #johnny lawrence #badass chicks

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rius-cave · 28 days

Note

Parks and Recreation Reference

ADAM: Okay, listen up bitches. We have a security situation here. (Adam checking the empty cupboards and purposefully getting into Alastor space to annoy him) As you know, when we reach the location, I will be conducting a security sweep. Also, from now on, we'll be using codenames. You can address me as: Eagle 1.

(Adam points at Lilith)

ADAM: Lilith, codename: Been There, Done That. Lucifer is: Currently Doing That.

(Lilith looks shocked and offended AF. Lucifer claps Adam's hand with a smug grin as he walks by)

ADAM: Lute is: It Happened Once In A Dream. (Lute winks at Adam) Angel Dust, codename: If I Had To Pick A Dude. (Angel Dust looks at Adam, flattered) Alastor is: (Adam pauses dramatically for a moment) Eagle 2.

ALASTOR: (Relieved AF) Oh, thank god.

----

I hope you understood the reference, but if not, there's a clip of the scene on YouTube.

I DIDN'T ANON, BUT THAT WAS SO FUCKING FUNNY I HAD TO ACTUALLY GO LOOK FOR IT

youtube

I'M FUCKING CRYING THIS IS PERFECT AAAHHHHHH. I LOVE THAT ALL OF THESE FIT THE CHARACTERS YOU CHOSE SO WELL LMFAO. IF I HAD TO PICK A DUDE FJSKFKSKFKFKDSLG. AND THE RELIEVED "OH THANK GOD" IM FUCKING CRYING DNDJZ

#ALSO THAT'S CHRIS PRATT RIGHT?????#LMAO CHRIS PRATT VOICING ADAM WHEN #hazbin hotel #adam #fav #ask

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rabbitcruiser · 1 year

Photo

Louis Jolliet and Jacques Marquette began exploring the Mississippi River on May 17, 1673.

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mint-yooxgi · 2 years

Text

Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Yes, all 8 of them)

Words: 13,318

Warnings: One stabbing mention. Seonghwa gets a little handsy at one point. The boys are very horny for the OC. I make too many direct references to the song and its lyrics, don’t at me please. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: You know, I never expect a simple Drabble to turn into this beast right here, but I'm happy with the way it turned out. Not gonna lie, this fic is a bit self-indulgent at certain parts, but what fic isn’t? Lmaoo anyways, I do not believe Ateez would ever act like this. This is just my interpretation of this particular Drabble request and the yandere archetype. I really hope you all like this one; feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~ (Seriously though guys, please don’t let this flop haha)

Extra: The whole time I was writing this, I had a chubby!reader in mind, but I don’t explicitly describe anything that would indicate that so I don’t feel right tagging it as such. Just know it’s heavily implied, but anyone can read this!!

Mini Masterlist

Driving down the dark desert highway, cool wind whips through your hair. The sun has slowly been setting, its last few rays of light drifting over the land and casting shadows in their wake.

You've been on the road all day, having had the urge to take a spontaneous road trip by yourself. Work has been really hectic lately, so since you have the next three days off, you decided to use them to your advantage.

The only problem is, the last sign of civilization you passed was forty minutes down the road, and you're not quite sure when the next hotel, or even a place to stop for the evening might pop up. Luckily, within the next five minutes, it seems as if your thoughts have been answered, for a hotel appears in the distance.

Pulling into the parking lot, you eye the place skeptically. For a building right smack in the middle of the desert, it sure doesn't look like one. The bright stone walls practically shine beneath the light of the now risen full moon, the place looking more like a resort than anything. Hopefully it's not too expensive then.

Cutting the engine after rolling up the windows, you let out a long breath through your nose. Slowly, you step out of the car, rolling your neck all the while. Standing only makes you realize just how stiff your entire body is, stretching your arms and back out slightly before you slam the car door shut.

Oddly enough, there are no other cars in the parking lot, save for your own. Your brow furrows slightly as you make your way towards the front entrance. Though, you suppose it makes sense. You are in the middle of the desert.

Pushing open the door, you immediately feel the affects of the air conditioned lobby, your shoulders subconsciously relaxing as you step inside. Your eyes skim the name of the hotel as you enter- HALA HALA- it's modern design seeming to fit it well.

Walking up to the reception desk, you notice that no one seems to be in sight. Perhaps you missed someone on your way in, so you opt to turn around, giving the lobby a quick sweep with your eyes. Still, you fail to see anybody, so you turn back around. Maybe there’s a bell you can ring or something.

Your whole body jumps as you see a man now standing behind the counter, seemingly having appeared from nowhere. His split dyed black and blond hair is slicked back and a smile rests on his features.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." He says. "My name is Hongjoong, and I'm the manager of this hotel here. How may we be of service?"

You blink, needing a moment to collect your thoughts before you're able to remember the reason why you're here.

"Oh, right." You chuckle, somewhat awkwardly. "How much is a single room for the weekend? Two nights in particular?"

"Hmm, let's see," Hongjoong hums, typing something into the computer in front of him. His eyes scan the screen, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "You're in luck. We're having a special this weekend only on our single rooms. Two nights for the price of one."

Your jaw nearly drops at the amount he tells you. "Seriously?"

"Of course." He smiles.

"Great." You say, shock still clear on your face at the outrageously low amount he's quoted you. "I'll take it."

"Perfect." Hongjoong purrs out, eyes becoming hooded as he gives you a quick once over.

Again, you blink, and as soon as you do, his expression is back to being chipper once more. Without another thought, you're reaching into your purse to pull out your credit card, handing it over to Hongjoong in the next moment.

It only takes him a few minutes to ring you up, handing you your card back in the next moment.

"If you have any bags, Wooyoung will be more than happy to help you with them." Hongjoong smiles at you yet again, to which you return.

Thanking him with a nod of your head, you take the keycard he hands you. A shiver runs down his spine as his fingers graze yours, but luckily, you do not seem to notice.

In the next moment, you go to turn around, coming face to face with yet another man who seemingly appears from thin air.

"Need any help with your bags?" The new male asks, completely oblivious to the startle he just gave you.

"Oh, uh," you stammer out a reply, eyes drifting to another man who now sits on one of the front couches reading a newspaper. You swear he snorts out a laugh at the scene that's just played out before him. Weird, you could have sworn there was no one else in the lobby before. "I think I'm okay, but thanks for the offer."

"Really, it's no problem at all." He insists, already following you out of the front doors and back to your car.

"No, really," you huff out a faint laugh, reaching into the front seat to grab your backpack. "I only have the one."

What you fail to see as you lean into your car, is the way Wooyoung eyes you up and down. Licking his lips, his gaze settles on your ass, thoughts already running wild with what he wants to do with you. Finally, you’re here.

Blinking to clear his thoughts as you pull yourself back out of your car, he grins. Before you can protest, he's slipping your backpack out of your hand and slinging it over his shoulder.

"After you." Wooyoung's eyes shine as he watches disbelief paint your features, followed slowly by acceptance.

Pride fills his chest as you begin to lead him back into the hotel and to your assigned room for the weekend. He can feel Yunho's eyes piercing into his back as he walks past with you in front, the jealousy clear as day within the older male's gaze. The sound of paper rustling from behind him has a smirk pulling on Wooyoung's lips.

Reaching your room, you go to unlock the door.

A gasp escapes your lips as you step through the threshold, and Wooyoung knows that he's going to have to share with his brothers later the memory of that beautiful awestruck expression painting your face. Only, in the next second, worry takes its place.

"I don't think your boss gave me the key to the right room." You say, eyes taking in the grandiose space. "This looks like the Presidential Suite."

"It is." Wooyoung hums, placing your backpack carefully onto the chair beside him once he fully steps into the room.

"This can't be right." You shake your head, moving to rush past him and back into the hall.

"You asked for the single room, didn't you?" He quirks a brow, stepping in front of you to block your path.

"I did, but-"

"Then this is the right room." He assures you. "It is what you payed for."

"I don't think it is," you say, sidestepping him and moving into the hallway.

You manage to make it all the way back to the lobby in no time, walking straight up to the reception desk to see if you can catch Hongjoong once more. Unfortunately, he doesn't appear to be anywhere in sight, nor does that man from earlier that had been sitting and reading the newspaper on the couch. Wooyoung has up and disappeared on you, too. You sigh.

"How may I help you?"

"Holy-" you startle, spinning around to see another unfamiliar man now standing behind the reception desk. Yet again, it's like he’s appeared out of thin air. You clear your throat. "Uh, is Hongjoong around? I need to speak with him."

"He's busy at the moment, unfortunately." The man smiles kindly at you. "I'm Seonghwa, the assistant manager. I'm more than happy to help if there's something wrong. What seems to be the problem?"

"Oh, uh, there's no problem, really," you clarify, a nervous pull to your lips. "I just think Hongjoong gave me the key to the wrong room."

"Did he?" Seonghwa hums, somewhat amusedly. He doesn't blame Hongjoong one bit. The poor male was probably too distracted by your beauty, and the fact that he was finally seeing you in person for the first time. "Let me check for you."

"Thanks, I really appreciate it." You smile, handing the key card to him over the counter. This time, it’s Seonghwa who shivers as his fingers brush your own. ”I think he accidentally gave me the card to the Presidential Suite or something."

Swiping the card through the reader, Seonghwa types a few things on the keyboard. A few moments later, he's placing the keycard back in front of you on the counter.

"No, everything's right on our end. That's the correct key." He informs you.

Your eyes widen, lips parting as clear disbelief takes over your features. "You're sure?”

"Positive." Seonghwa smiles, purposely sliding the card closer to you. "Our policy here is to always put our guests' pleasure above anything else. So really, your reaction to the room is the highest compliment you could give us."

"I- uh-" you blink, taken aback by his words. "Sure?" You don't quite know how to respond, but you take the keycard back, nonetheless. "Thanks."

"Of course." Seonghwa straightens the front of his blazer out, a sly grin tugging at his lips. "I live to serve."

Though he fails to add a key word to the end of his sentence. Most certainly does he live to serve, to please. Most importantly, though, he lives to serve and please you.

“Okay…" Brushing off his words, you turn back around, shooting him a subtle side eyed look at his last comment once he can no longer see your face.

Heading back to your room, you shake your head, muttering about how odd this place is. First, it's literally in the middle of nowhere. Secondly, the exterior and interior looks brand new, much too pristine for the likes of the desert. Third, you've barely seen another occupant in this hotel besides the staff and that one guy from earlier. Fourth, a single room means the equivalent of a Presidential Suite. And finally, the prices are apparently dirt cheap.

Seriously, just what is going on here?

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts once more, you reenter your room. Well, if you’ve technically payed for it, you might as well enjoy it.

Ten minutes later and you finally figure out how the jacuzzi tub works, allowing your body to sink into the frothing bubbles. The scent of lilac and honey drifts through the air, the complimentary soaps feeling fancier than anything you've ever experienced in your life.

Soaking in the tub for a bit, you allow yourself to relax, basking in the way the water seemingly eases the tension from your body. The only thing that could make this better would be a glass of wine, and maybe a massage, but that can wait for another time.

You close your eyes, letting your head fall back against the headrest as a content sigh leaves your lips. You haven't felt this relaxed in a long time.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of lustful eyes watches from the shadows. More than anything, wanting desperately to join you. To truly help you relax, in any and every way you desire.

Once you're done, you're quick to dry off, changing into a fresh pair of clothes. Smiling at your reflection in the mirror, you wink at yourself, blowing a kiss in the next moment. You need to start appreciating yourself more. Besides, you look damn good, if you do say so yourself!

Immediately, a thud sounds from behind you, making your heart skip a beat in your chest. Whipping around, your eyes scan the bathroom, searching for anything that could have made that loud noise. Nothing seems out of place, so it doesn’t look like anything could have fallen.

Odd. If you didn't know any better, it almost sounded like someone ran into something, or even stubbed their toe.

You frown, shaking your head. You've had a long drive, and an even longer day. You're probably just imagining things. Besides, you could really use that drink now.

Making your way back towards the lobby, you wander aimlessly, not really sure where to go. You're sure this hotel has a bar somewhere, you're just not sure which direction it would be in. Luckily for you, a plaque that you hadn't noticed before on the wall points you in the direction that you're looking for.

Stepping into the bar area, once again you're taken aback by how empty the place is. Well, empty except for the lone man standing behind the counter wiping at a glass with a cloth in his hand.

Walking up to the counter, you sit down at one of the stools, returning the kind smile the bartender sends your way.

"What can I get for you, pretty one?" The man asks, placing the glass onto the counter in front of himself.

You look down at the pristine wood beneath your hands as a warmth blooms on your cheeks. "Surprise me."

The man takes a moment to observe you carefully, his lips twitching upwards at the corners from seeing the affect his words have on you.

"I know just the thing," he replies, already moving to grab all of the ingredients he'll need to make you a drink. Two minute later and he pushes the now full glass towards you. "Et voila."

"Wow," grabbing the glass with a wonder filled expression, you take a sip. "This is my favourite drink. You must be a mind reader!"

You fail to see the way his brow quirks ever so slightly at your words, his smile turning nervous in the blink of an eye. Just as quickly as the expression appears, it's gone.

"So, what has you here on a Friday night?" He leans against the counter, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows as he rests his forearms on the edge of the wood. "Lover got you down?"

Your eyes widen, and you're quick to shake your head. "Oh, no. Definitely not."

"Huh," he has to hide the pleased smirk that threatens to pull onto his lips as he confirms what he and his brothers have only hoped. This makes things so much easier. "That's hard to believe, given a pretty one like you."

For the second time this evening, pride swells in his chest at seeing the affect his words have on you.

"Thank you," you mutter, not quite used to men being this bold with you upfront. "You're very kind, uh-"

"Mingi." He replies. “Please. Call me Mingi."

"Well, Mingi," the way you say his name has a pleasant shiver running down his spine. "You're sweet."

The smile that radiates from him nearly knocks the breath out of you.

"Let me know if there's anything else I can do for you," he says, and his eyes flash. "Anything at all."

"Yeah, actually," you nod a few times, looking around the room as if you’re afraid of being overheard. "Be honest," you lean in slightly and he can feel his heart beginning to race in his chest, "is the room service here good?"

"Uh," his brain malfunctions as his eyes glance down to your lips, a completely different form of room service other than what you probably intend flitting through his mind. One which he and his brothers would be more than happy to provide for you.

He swallows the sudden dryness in his throat. Thank fuck you don't seem to notice.

"You know, since you probably have an in with the cooks cause you're the bartender, and all." Your voice manages to pull him back to reality, and out of his all too vivid thoughts of what kind of room service he could provide for you. "Anything you would recommend? I'm starving."

"Oh, if you're hungry, why didn't you just say so?" He chuckles. "I'll order something for you, and have them bring it over to you here."

"That'd be great, thanks!" You reply happily, taking another sip of your drink. "I don't have any food allergies, by the way. Well, except for lactose, but it's more of an irritant than anything. No heavy creams or full glasses of milk."

Mingi blinks at you, and your mouth parts, a heat once again rising up your neck and all the way up your face. You can't believe you just said all that. To a stranger, no less.

A smile spreads across his lips, "got it. Thanks for letting me know."

Of course, they all know everything about you. Well, not everything. Yet. Still, it means so much to him how open you already are with him. Mingi knew you'd be perfect for him, for all of them. This just proves it even more.

Heading over to the tablet that he's left at the end of the bar to place an order for you, Mingi's heart warms. Already, he and some of his brothers have been able to show you how well they can take care of you, how well they can provide for you. All so that you will become theirs. And you will be, all in due time. After all, once they have you in their sights, you’ll never be able to leave them again.

"Lucifer Morningstar!" Mingi curses as he rounds the corner of the counter, the thud echoing in your ears as his knee makes contact with the side of the bar.

"Oh my god! Are you okay?" Your eyes widen, watching as he hunches over, hands placed over his one knee as he balances on his opposite foot.

You fail to see the way his eyes flash for the briefest of moments at your own exclamation.

"Yeah," he lets out a breath, easing into one of the barstools beside him. "I'll be fine."

"Ouch," you wince, thinking of how hard he must have banged his knee to have exclaimed that loudly. Speaking of, his words echo through your head, and you cannot contain the laugh that escapes you. When you see him turn his attention from the tablet to look at you, you wave a hand apologetically in the air in front of you. "Sorry, I've just never heard anyone use that exclamation before. Usually, they swear, or say ‘Jesus Christ’, or something like that."

It's low, but you swear you hear a growl reverberate throughout the room.

"Oh," Mingi laughs awkwardly, a nervousness to his demeanour all of a sudden. "Yeah, it's just something my brothers and I always say instead of your typical exclamations."

"Huh," you nod, turning back to the drink still held in your hands. "Interesting."

Not even ten minutes later, another man is entering the bar area with a plate of steaming food in his hands. Jealousy flares within him as he sees you conversing so casually with his brother, a soft smile he's only ever dreamed about being directed towards him resting on your face.

You hardly notice the new presence in the room, but Mingi does, causing a smirk to subtly pull at his features. You're simply too busy conversing with him at the moment. That is, until movement out of the corner of your eye catches your attention.

"One freshly cooked meal for the lovely lady," the man says with a flirty smile as he places the plate of steaming food in front of you.

Thanking him politely, you're quick to turn back to Mingi once more. The men at this hotel certainly are something else.

"Okay, have we met before?" Your eyes narrow teasingly at the bartender who sits a few seats away from you. "Twice now you've made my favourite things."

"Hey now," the other man chimes in, a teasing lilt to his voice. "I was the one who cooked it. He didn't make squat."

He continues to stare at you, almost expectantly now, and you're quick to avert your gaze. Turning back to your food, you grab the fork that's been provided, and take a bite.

"Holy shit." You say once you've swallowed the food in your mouth. "This is incredible."

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, Lovely." The man replies, eyes shining with a certain fondness as he watches you eat what he’s prepared for you.

"Seriously, this is best dish of this that I’ve ever had," you say, placing another forkful into your mouth.

He chuckles, loving the way your praise has Mingi glaring dagger at him. Serves him right.

"Oh, where are my manners?" He tuts at himself. "My name is San, and I am very pleased to meet you."

Suddenly, your hand is in his, and he's bringing his lips down to place a gentle kiss onto your skin. Tingles erupt throughout his own body wherever he makes contact with yours, and he has to stop the rumble of contentment that builds within his chest from escaping.

Again, you're taken aback by his boldness, and you swear you see something in Mingi's eyes flash black as San does this. Only, when you blink, it's like nothing ever happened. Weird.

The next hour is spent with the both of them at the bar, simply conversing with each other. You can't count the amount of times they've successfully made you laugh, or even shy at some of the things they say, but they are.

Purposefully, each time one of them does something that has you reacting a certain way, the other is sure to do the same. There's no way they're letting each other one up them. That is, until Hongjoong is scolding them within their mind's link to knock it off.

All too soon for their liking, you're heading off to bed, much to their disappointment. It is late at night, and you have had a long day. Needless to say, it's starting to all catch up to you. You can feel the exhaustion beginning to claw at your mind.

Falling into the plush bed, you're practically out as soon as your head hits the pillows. Funny, you could have swore you saw something shift within the darkness of your room just before you closed your eyes. Only, you find you're too tired to care, quickly falling into the realm of your subconscious as sleep takes hold.

Within the confines of your room, two figures materialize from the shadows. Carefully, one moves to stand beside you while the other gently sits on the opposite side of the bed.

"I still can't believe that she’s here," Jongho says breathlessly, hand reaching out to caress the side of your face.

"Finally, we have her," Yunho replies, feeling as wonderstruck as Jongho right now.

You shift slightly, breath hitching in your throat.

They both freeze. Luckily, you don't seem to wake, allowing them to breathe a sigh of relief as they continue to watch over you as you sleep.

“She's so beautiful," Jongho watches you in awe, thumb stroking over the skin of your cheek as his heart soars in his chest.

Yunho hums his agreement, his eyes flashing briefly in the darkness. "Ours."

"Ours." Jongho confirms, a content smile pulling at his lips as his own eyes flash, watching over you like he always should. Like he always will be. From now, until forever.

Morning comes with bright light streaming in through the large windows, the sun's rays warming you as you stretch your body out on the bed. A yawn escapes your lips as you rub at your eyes. Sitting up, you throw off the covers, making your way to the bathroom to freshen up for the day.

One look outside the windows, and at your weather app, has a sigh escaping you. It's going to be awfully hot today, the sun shining unapologetically in the sky with few clouds drifting along. In the back of your mind, you begin to wonder what else there is to do in this hotel.

Opening the door to your room, you go to step into the hallway, only for your path to be blocked. Sitting there in front of you is a trolley, what appears to be an extravagant spread of food placed precariously before you. At least, you're hoping that that's what's beneath all these trays with metal food coverings on them.

Leaning out into the hall, you shift your head from side to side, attempting to see if this cart was meant for anyone else. When you don't see anyone around, you look back at the cart. This time, your eyes catch on a folded card placed just beside the small vase with a single red rose held within.

Picking up the note, you're quick to open it, seeing as it's addressed to you. You blink as you read the note over a few times, a soft smile painting your features, yet still surprised, nonetheless.

Please enjoy this complementary breakfast from us to you.

~ Your friends at HALA HALA

Rolling the cart into your room, you're quick to remove all of the coverings. The smell of your favourite breakfast foods greet you as you take in the fresh spread before you. Your jaw nearly drops, torn between thinking that this is incredible, and that something strange is going on here.

Oh well, at least you're getting free food out of this.

Once you're finished eating, you clean up as best you can and head downstairs for the day. A book rests in your hand, figuring that you can find someplace quiet to read and pass the time. Maybe you’ll even listen to music while you do so.

Reaching the lobby, you figure you can ask Hongjoong or Seonghwa where the best place to read in the hotel might be. Someplace that’s quiet. Someplace that’s comfortable. Luck seems to be on your side this morning, too, for you see both Hongjoong and Seonghwa standing behind the reception desk. They seem to be in a pretty heated discussion, their voices too low to hear even as you approach them. Once you get close enough, they're both turning to you with fond smiles on their faces. You didn't even know they saw you approaching.

"How can we help you, dear?" Seonghwa is the first to speak, meeting your gaze.

"Uh, a bit of a weird question, I know," you begin, somewhat nervously, "but where's the best place to get some reading done around here? You guys don't have a library, do you?"

Even though you say it jokingly, Hongjoong's response surprises you.

"We do," he hums, and seeing your mildly shocked expression, eyes widening and all, has a warmth flooding his veins. He knew he'd be able to impress you with the amount of time and effort they put into this place. "Unfortunately it's closed for cleaning today."

"Aw," your expression falls slightly, "darn."

"I would recommend our outdoor seating area beside the pool," Seonghwa motions a little ways off to the side, and you can see a set of glass doors leading to a courtyard of sorts. "It'll be warm today, so you can also benefit by taking a swim if you'd like.”

"Oh, no, I don't think I'll do any swimming," you shake your head.

At this, they both frown. Your words manage to pull them from their thoughts of holding you in their lap with their arms around you, their head resting on your shoulder as you read.

"Why not?" Before Seonghwa can stop himself, the question escapes him, and even the younger male beside him shoots him a look. Though, where yours is of confusion, Hongjoong's is of warning.

"This is really the best I have," you reply sheepishly, motioning down towards your outfit- a simple t-shirt and shorts- with a tilt of your head.

"Go ahead and at least dip your feet in." Hongjoong replies, softly assuring you with his next words. "No one will judge you here."

"Okay," you smile softly, "maybe I will, then."

Again, you thank the two men before you as you begin to head towards the glass doors Seonghwa pointed out to you.

Stepping through the archway, the heavy desert heat surrounds you immediately. You let out an exhale through your nose, taking in the sight of the tropical plants around you. There's a small path leading further into the courtyard and to the pool which you can see sitting right in the centre of it. At least there appears to be tons of shade. Just how you like it.

Setting yourself up in one of the plush outdoor chaises, you kick off your sandals.

Leaning back onto the comfortable pillows, you bring your feet up to rest on the cushion, keeping your knees bent so you can hold your book on your lap. You smile softly as a gentle breeze flits passed.

Opening your book, you begin to read.

Not even five minutes later, a man approaches you, a glass held in his hand. You tense, worried that something's about to happen considering you're the only one sitting outside by the pool. Or so it seems.

"Here, I thought you might like a glass of water," he smiles kindly at you as he hands you the glass. "You should stay hydrated in this heat."

"Oh," you reply, placing your book down momentarily so that you can take the glass of water he's offering to you. "Thank you."

"Damn, beat me to it already," another voice says from the opposite side of you, successfully managing to startle you as you hadn't heard anyone approaching. "That's our Yeosangie for you."

"Yunho," the man you've now learned is apparently Yeosangie says, his eyes narrowing slightly at the taller male, "what are you doing here?"

The man - Yunho - is one that you recognize form last night. He was the one reading the newspaper in the lobby.

"Seonghwa told me that our very special guest here was sitting by the pool, and that I should bring her some water to help keep her hydrated." He replies, and sure enough, you see another glass of water being held in his hand. "Like I said though, it looks like you beat me to it."

"One can never have too much water," you say, catching both of their attention, and snapping them out of the pointed looks they had just been sharing.

"Right you are, gorgeous," Yunho grins, handing you the second glass.

Your brows raise slightly at the name he calls you. Hell, it seems almost all of the male workers at this hotel have called you some variation of a nickname or pet name at some point or other. Needless to say, it's a bit odd; you aren’t used to this kind of attention.

"Anyways, I'm Yunho," he says with a grin, pointing over at the shorter male in the next moment, "and that grump over there is Yeosang. If you look over there," again, Yunho points in a specific direction, drawing your gaze to the two men that have appeared on the opposite side of the pool, "that's San and Jongho. Though, I heard you already met San last night."

You nod in response, noticing how the one you've recently been told is Jongho waves quite enthusiastically at you with a large smile on his face. You huff in amusement, lips quirking upwards as you send a polite wave back. If you didn't know any better, from the way the male averts his gaze in the next moment, you'd say that you've just made him blush.

"If you need anything, do not hesitate to let us know. " Yeosang draws your attention to him once more, a certain spark lighting behind his eyes. A spark which you do not understand, but the other males do. One that is practically begging for you to come to them, to seek them out for anything and everything you might need. Anything at all.

"Thanks," you smile. "I appreciate it."

Really, you'd just like to be left alone to read your book now in peace.

"Well, we'll leave you to read in peace now," Yunho grins, walking over and wrapping his arm around Yeosang's shoulders. “Enjoy.”

Blinking in shock, your whole body tenses. Okay, this is starting to get a bit freaky. It’s almost as if Yunho just read you mind.

Shaking your head slightly to clear your thoughts, you grab your book once more. No, that isn’t possible. You’re just overthinking things due to the stressful week of work you’ve just had. This is your chance to relax, and you have every intention to do so.

Opening your book once more, you begin to read.

Across from you, the four boys converge.

Jongho is still reeling from having you smile so brightly at him, and you waved back. Yeosang, on the other hand, crosses his arms, his eyes narrowing at the three males before him. Yunho watches you carefully from across the pool, his eyes subtly trailing over your form. Even San cannot help but drink in the exposed skin of your legs on full display, the sight of your bare thighs making his mouth water.

What each wouldn’t give to be between them right now…

“Control yourselves,” Yeosang hisses through his teeth, sending pointed looks towards San and Yunho, “the both of you.”

“Like you haven’t been thinking the exact same things since you saw them.” San rolls his eyes, keeping his voice low while Yunho just chuckles from beside him.

“At least I have some subtlety,” Yeosang huffs, annoyance clear on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest. “The decency to not have my thoughts project themselves into everyone else’s subconscious.”

Well, I for one, was rather enjoying the mental image of her lounging in that chair by the pool. Wooyoung’s voice echoes through all of their minds. I’d much rather be out there spending time with her, you lucky bastards. Instead, I’m stuck inside on cleaning duty.

Stop complaining. They can all practically hear Hongjoong roll his eyes. You’re the one who begged to be the one to tidy up her room.

That I did. Wooyoung hums. Really, you guys are missing out. Her scent is everywhere.

Now you’re just rubbing it in. Mingi sighs, and they can all hear the pout in his voice.

Oh, panties! Wooyoung cheers, and they all practically let out a groan in need. And they’ve been worn! Don’t mind if I ‘yes’.

Wooyoung. Seonghwa’s voice echoes through their heads, serving as a warning. That is, until they hear his next words. Save some for the rest of us, yeah?

You’re all despicable. Yeosang has to resist the urge to shake his head.

Says the one who was peeping on them having a bath last night. San adds, hiding his smirk behind his drink as he takes a sip.

Immediately, Yeosang’s cheeks flare, his harsh gaze landing on the aforementioned male. That’s different!

Relax. Yunho chuckles, leaning back in his own chaise as he watches you turn the next page of your book. So beautiful, and so oblivious to the desire swirling within each of them for you, and you alone.

We’ve all thought about it before. Jongho adds.

Well, some more than others. Hongjoong’s laugh reverberates through all of them. Let’s just make sure everything is ready for tonight. Then we can really have our fun.

Without hesitation, they all agree, and unbeknownst to you, four pairs of eyes turn to look at you from across the pool. You don’t even look up from your book. At least, not until movement catches your attention. Then, you cannot help the way your eyes widen, gaze flitting between the pages of your book and subtly attempting to check out the male making his way over to the edge of the pool.

"Put a shirt on, you heathen." Yeosang hisses at San. "You're making them uncomfortable.”

San simply quirks a brow, turning to face Yeosang in the next second. His expression says it all.

A smugness soon settles over his features as he feels your gaze trailing over the expanse of his back. The skin of which he knows would look even better if it were covered in your marks. He rolls his shoulders.

Turning back around, San watches you quickly avert your gaze, focussing a little too intently on the page you’re now on in your book. He smirks, slowly sitting at the edge of the pool so that he can lower himself in. Purposefully, he tenses the muscles in his arms as he sinks in, wanting- no, needing- your gaze on him. As soon as he feels your stare, he knows he’s captivated you once more.

See? See how toned his arms are? How well they would look wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear? San bets you would sound so divine as he makes the sweetest love to you, but he knows that you’ll taste even better.

He doesn’t even need to probe your mind to know you’re thinking about him, too.

Okay, now you’re just showing off. Mingi whines.

Not my fault you got caught having to set up for tonight. San smirks, and he watches as you seemingly come back to reality, only to see that smug expression on his face.

You avert your gaze, embarrassed you got caught staring yet again. Reaching for one of the glasses of water on the table beside you, you suddenly feel your body going hot. All of these attractive men will be the death of you, you’re sure.

You fail to see the way their lips quirk upwards as a result.

Taking a sip of water, you feel yourself start to relax at the coldness that meets your tongue. Carefully, you tilt your head to the side, placing the cool of the glass onto the skin of your neck. You let out a content hum, eyes fluttering closed as a result. At least this is helping to cool you off.

Jongho swallows the sudden dryness in his throat, and he’s knows he’s not the only one affected by your actions. The sudden display of your neck as you tilt your head back, so open and vulnerable, is practically begging for them to have a taste of your delicate skin with their tongues. Perhaps a few bite marks would suffice as well…

Thoughts of tonight, and what is still yet to come fill Jongho’s head, and he can feel the anticipation eating him alive. Making you theirs could not come soon enough.

Speaking of… Hongjoong’s voice resounds through the younger’s head. Jongho, it’s time.

The other three watch as Jongho stands from his spot, beginning to slowly make his way over to you. There’s a sort of nervousness to his steps, one which they all understand. Your answer right now will depend on how the beginning of this afternoon and evening with them will begin.

Glancing up from the pages of your book, you notice Jongho now hovering near you.

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” A soft smile rests on his features as he meets your gaze, an air of nervousness surrounding him.

“Uh, sure.” You blink, quirking a brow at him in curiosity in the next second. “Those guys bothering you too much, or something?”

Even though you say it teasingly, Jongho lets out a chuckle, “you could say that.”

Slowly, and with each move deliberate, Jongho takes the seat directly beside you. It’s the closest he can get to you currently without sitting in the same chaise with you, and pulling you into his lap like he so badly wants to do.

Soon. He tells himself. He’ll be able to do that soon.

A few minutes pass by, and it kills him not to have your direct attention on him like his is so attuned to you. No, you’re still much more focussed on your book for the moment. That is, until your tongue clicks loudly, your book slamming closed once you place your bookmark carefully back inside.

“That bad, huh?” He jokes, one of his eyebrows raised in amusement as he looks at you.

“You don’t know the half of it,” you roll your eyes. “But it’s the last book in the series and I’ll be damned if I don’t see it to completion.”

“Why do you continue to read it if it’s that horrible?” Jongho’s head tilts, genuine curiosity shining in his eyes.

“Spite.” You reply immediately. “Pure spite.”

Jongho blinks, intrigued. “What’s it about?”

So you tell him, and fuck, if Jongho doesn’t fall harder for you right then and there. The passion in which you speak with, the fire he sees light behind your eyes as he watches you wave the book around in your hand, even going to far as to hit the cover a few times to emphasize your points, has him hanging on to every word.

You’re so captivating; mesmerizing to watch and listen to, that he doesn’t even realize just how much time has passed since he first came to sit beside you. Plus, he’s gotten to learn so much about you in such a short period of time. Ecstatic doesn’t even begin to describe how he’s feeling at the moment.

The only thing that would make this moment better would be if you agreed to what he’s about to ask you.

“Anyways, sorry for the long ass rant,” you apologize, somewhat sheepishly. “There’s just so much I could say about these books and this author.”

“Never feel like you should apologize for something you’re passionate about.” Comes his honest reply. “Especially not to me. I could listen to you talk for hours.”

Jongho’s words catch you by surprise, stunning you into a shy silence. In the back of your mind, his bluntness makes something within you question his words. You’ve only just met, and he’s being very forward. Still, his smile is kind, and it causes you to crack a small one of your own.

“Really, though,” he adds, a calculating look to his gaze now. One which you miss. “We’re hosting a special dinner tonight for everyone. You should join us.”

“Everyone at the hotel?” You question, a minor furrow to your brows.

“You could say that.” Jongho nods. “We’d really love it if you could attend.”

“How fancy are we talking here?”

Jongho smiles. You seem interested, and he could not be happier. “Wear you finest.”

“Oh.” Immediately, your expression falls. “I don’t think I’ll be able to attend, then. I’m afraid I don't have anything with me that’s appropriate for a dinner like that.”

“No need to worry,” Jongho assures you. “There’s a tailor’s shop that Seonghwa runs at the far end of the hotel. I’m sure there’s something there that you can wear for the evening.”

“That’s…” you try and find the right word. Suspicious. Convenient. “Interesting.”

“Great! We’ll be expecting you around eight.” Jongho stands, and it’s only now do you realize that the other three males have vacated the vicinity, leaving the two of you utterly alone. Something in his eyes flash, the smile that paints his lips serving to unnerve you slightly. “Don’t be late.”

Without another word, or even giving you the chance to respond, Jongho is leaving you to yourself by the pool.

Glancing around, you blink a few times, hardly able to wrap your head around not even seeing the others so much as leave. Checking the time, you see that it’s about halfway past two in the afternoon. Perhaps you should go check out this tailor’s place Jongho had mentioned earlier. The last thing you want to do is be stuck without an outfit for tonight, especially if they’re now expecting you for dinner.

A few minutes later, and after dropping off your book back to your room, you’re standing in front of the doors to the tailor shop. Taking a breath, you step inside.

Quite a spacious room greets you, fairly open concept in design with clothes scattered along the walls on different racks. They seem to be organized by type, and a part of you wonders if some of these clothes have been accidentally left behind or forgotten by previous patrons of the hotel.

The sound of a curtain sliding on a rail catches your attention, and your eyes are drawn to the back of the shop where Seonghwa seems to emerge from.

“Ah, there you are. I’ve been expecting you.” He smiles, and at your questioning look, he adds, “Jongho was just here to fill me in on what you need.”

“Uh,” there’s a certain drawl to the way he says those words that have your lips parting slightly. You clear your throat. “That was quick.”

“Come.” Seonghwa seemingly brushes off your statement, turning around to step back through the way he came. “I’ve got a few options you might like.”

Following him into the back of the shop, you realize that there’s a small fitting area with a large panelled mirror positioned around a raised circular stand. A dressing room rests just beside it, another curtain drawn in front of it for some semblance of privacy. To the opposite side of the mirror, a rack rests with eight different dresses hanging delicately on silk hangers.

The awe filled expression that rests on your face has his heart racing in his chest, a soft grin tugging at his lips. “Pick out your favourite, and then you can try it on.”

You step closer to the rack, hands ghosting the material of the gowns.

“Are you sure these aren’t too…” you hesitate, searching for the right word as you turn to meet his gaze, “extravagant for me?”

“If anything, none of them could ever do you justice.” His honest reply has a heat rising to your cheeks, and even though you turn to continue inspecting the dresses, you can feel his gaze piercing your back.

Saying nothing, your gaze lands on one dress in particular. Pulling it slightly out from the rack, you examine the lace material. The black colour which starts at the swooped neckline slowly transitions into a navy, until it fades into a royal blue at the very bottom of the floor length skirt. Plus, as an added bonus, there are lace sleeves which look as if they’ll reach all the way down your arms and to your wrists. You’ve never seen a dress more perfect for you, or that you’ve loved more at first glance.

“Do you like that one?” Seonghwa’s voice manages to pull you out of your own thoughts, an eagerness to his words. He knew he picked right when he grabbed that gown for you. The thought alone of you wearing it nearly sent him to his knees, and it’s in his favourite colours, too.

“I do.” You confirm with a hum, looking over the dress for another time.

There’s only one slight issue that you can see. The dress appears to be slightly form fitting, and you’re not sure how it may look on you.

“Well, go on then,” he encourages with a smile, motioning to the dressing room behind you. “Try it on.”

For a brief moment, you hesitate, your hand pausing halfway when you go to reach for the hanger. That is, until you decide that there’s really no harm in simply trying it on. If you don’t like it, there are several others you can choose from. Besides, the red one you see hanging right next to it is definitely not a bad second choice.

Gently, you remove the dress from the rack, stepping into the small dressing room in order to change. Fortunately for you, the dress seems to fit like a glove - having no issues slipping into it, and pulling the zipper up with ease. Unfortunately for you, there’s no mirrors in this little dressing room, which means you have to step outside in order to see how you look wearing the gown.

Really, in hind sight, you saw this coming. However, faced with the prospect of stepping out in a slightly form fitting gown in front of a man you don’t know, a handsome man who has complimented you, nonetheless, you find yourself feeling a bit self conscious. Perhaps this dress wasn’t the best choice after all. Still, you really do want to see how you look.

Taking a deep breath to steel your nerves, you slide the curtain open.

“Wow,” Seonghwa’s breath gets stolen right from his lungs as he sees you step out in his dress. His desire for you, which roars unashamedly beneath the surface of his skin, becomes the most difficult it’s even been to hold back. So much so, that he lets his eyes slip for the briefest of moment, the darkness swirling within.

Thank fuck you don’t seem to notice, too busy smoothing out the front of the material as worry seems to tug at your features.

“That bad, huh?” You grimace, fingers twitching at your sides as you stand there in front of the mirror, tense as anything. “I knew I shouldn’t have-“

“You look beautiful.” His raw voice- a few tones deeper than usual and on the verge of sounding strained- rumbles out from his chest.

So badly does he just want to walk over to you, rip that dress right off, and pull you into his arms as he pleases you in any and every way he knows how. He’s glad he blocked off his mind link with the others for this occasion, otherwise they’d receive his much too vivid thoughts about taking you up against the wall right now and claiming you as his like he’s always longed to do.

Besides, they wanted who’s dress you wore tonight at dinner to be a surprise.

Seonghwa’s lips part as he swallows the dryness in his throat, attempting to at least control his breathing to no avail. You really have no idea the effect you have on him, on all of them, do you?

Lifting your head to meet his gaze through the reflection of the mirror, you’re caught off guard by how dark his eyes have become. Even his breathing has gone irregular, his chest rising and falling dramatically with each inhale that he takes.

When you blink, you expect it to all just be your imagination. Only, this time, that does not seem to be the case. Seonghwa is still looking at you with those eyes when you reopen your own - dark eyes filled with an undeniable lust for you.

Slowly, Seonghwa begins to close the distance between the two of you, stalking towards you like a predator would its prey. You cannot help but freeze, eyes following his every movement as he comes to stand behind you. The way he places his hands tenderly onto your waist, holding onto you so gently, completely contrasts the darkness continuously swirling within his irises.

Tilting his head forward, Seonghwa presses the lower half of his face against your shoulder, placing his lips onto your bare skin. His eyes flutter closed, nose slowly trailing up the side of your neck as he shifts to breathe in your scent.

A shiver runs down your spine as you feel the ghost of his breath tickle you right below your ear. Your heart jumps into your throat.

Of all the words he could use to describe you right now - sinful, breathtaking, gorgeous, his - he finally settles on the perfect one.

“Divine.” He exhales, voice low as he leans forward to rest his head against your own.

Your breath hitches as you feel his grip tighten around your waist, fingers sinking into the softness of your skin as he scents you once more. The uncertainty he can sense coming off of you has him halting in his tracks, a sense of dread washing over him. He might have taken things a bit too far just now. You’re not even officially theirs yet.

He silently curses himself. What good is control when he apparently doesn’t seem to have any around you? You make him go crazy. You’re just so irresistible.

Feeling his grip slacken ever so slightly, you move to turn around in his arms. Only, when you twist your body to face him, he’s no longer standing behind you. Instead, he seems to be rummaging around in a box off to the side, not even looking at you.

Did you just imagine what just happened?

You shake your head. That can’t be possible. You aren’t that touched starved so as to imagine intimate scenarios with the first handsome man who gives you an ounce of attention. At least, you don’t think you are.

“Oh, are you finished looking over the dress?” Seonghwa hums, head lifting to meet your gaze. Straightening himself back up with a small smile on his face, you notice an elegant pair of shoes in his hands. “You’ve been staring at your refection for quite a while. Is everything okay?”

You blink. Did you really just zone out for the last few minutes?

“Yeah-” you clear your throat. “Yeah. Everything fine.”

“If you’re still not sure if you like the gown, why don’t you try it with these?” He offers you the shoes that he holds in his hand. “They should fit.”

“Oh,” you take the shoes from his outstretched hand, “thanks.”

It was only for a second, but his fingers grazed your own. Immediately he felt that all too familiar beast stirring within him, and after he had just managed to calm it down, too. His hands are still burning from being able to feel you beneath his touch.

Slipping the shoes onto your feet, you turn to your reflection once more. This time, a smile rests on your features as you take in your appearance. You really do look stunning.

“Are you really sure I can wear this tonight?” Your voice manages to call Seonghwa’s attention once more. “I mean, is it really okay if I borrow it?”

“Of course!” His answer is immediate, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles at you. “In fact, why don’t you keep it? It looks far better on you than the hanger, anyways.”

Again, a warmth spreads itself across your cheeks as you glance away shyly. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, Darling.” He hums, a fond look shining within his eyes. “Now, why don’t you change and I’ll wrap up that dress for you?”

“Alright,” you reply softly, already heading back into the little dressing room and sliding the curtain shut behind you.

In no time at all, you’re back into your regular clothes, gown resting on the hanger once more. You take a moment to admire the material again before exiting the dressing room, the dress draped over your arm.

Handing it over to Seonghwa, he places it into a carrying bag for you, careful not to damage the material. The sound of the zipper closing pulls you out of your thoughts, many of which you’ve been attempting to sort through in the past few minutes alone.

“If you need any help with your makeup, I’m sure Hongjoong would be more than happy to assist you.” Seonghwa tells you, handing you the bag with the gown held within.

“I didn’t know he could do makeup,” you hum, impressed. “That’s pretty cool. I think I’ll be okay, though.”

With a nod of his head and a final farewell until tonight, Seonghwa watches you leave the little tailor’s shop. His eyes follow you for as long as he can, and as soon as you disappear from his sight, a sigh is falling from his lips.

Running his fingers through his hair, he shakes his head.

You really have no idea what you do to him. To all of them. How long they’ve waited just to catch a glimpse of you in person, planning everything out perfectly down to each and every last minute. Nothing is going to stop them from finally claiming what they’ve all long since desired.

By the end of the night, you will be theirs.

Making it back to your room, you’re quick to step inside. Carefully, you hang the dress off to the side for later tonight, a soft smile tugging at your lips. Glancing at the time, you see a few hours have passed already, and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head.

There’s no way time should have moved that quickly! It should have only taken you an hour, maybe an hour and a half at most to have tried on that dress with Seonghwa. You could have swore it was only half passed two when you first made your way over there. So, how can it already be five o’clock?

You huff, shaking your head to clear your thoughts. Maybe you really are losing it. First, you’re missing seeing people that are apparently right in front of your eyes. Then, you keep swearing you’re hearing things, like that weird thump in the bathroom last night. Now, you’re pretty sure you’re starting to hallucinate things.

Perhaps it’s best if you leave this place after dinner tonight instead of in the morning like you originally planned. You would leave sooner, but they’re already expecting you for the evening, and you do not want to be rude. Especially given everything they’ve done and provided for you in the past twenty-four hours alone.

Either way, you just hope this evening passes quickly, and without a hitch.

An hour later and you begin to get ready for the evening. You’re just glad you remembered to pack your makeup bag. Once you’re finished, you still have a bit of time to spare, so you spend the remainder reading some more of your book while you wait. Around five to the hour, you head to the lobby.

Emerging from the hallway, you actually see someone standing in front of the reception desk wearing a finely tailored suit. You watch as the man turns around, and you come face to face with Yeosang whose eyes light up as soon as he sees you. You return his kind smile with a polite nod of your head.

“I’m here to escort you to dinner.” He says, extending an arm out to you. “Shall we?”

You loop your arm around his, “we shall.”

As Yeosang walks with you down a separate hall and to a section of the hotel you have yet to traverse, he revels at your touch. The feeling of your arm wrapped around his is like no other, skin tingling beneath the material of his suit wherever you touch. The whole time, he cannot help but steal glances at you from the corner of his eyes.

When he first saw you emerge from the hallway, his breath got caught in his throat. You look absolutely divine, even if you’re not wearing the dress he had picked out for you in hopes that you would wear it.

His jaw had twitched at that, slight irritation flooding his veins at the thought of you wearing Seonghwa’s gown tonight. Well, let’s see what the others make of it, and if they think the eldest might have influenced your decision as well.

After a solid minute of walking, in which you make idle smalltalk with Yeosang, you reach a set of intricately carved wooden doors. You marvel at both the size and design as they open, seemingly on their own, to reveal a finely decorated room. A room which looks much too small to house all of the guest that you were sure were going to be joining you for dinner.

A single table with nine place settings sits in the centre of the room, lit candles lining the middle.

Around the table, the other seven stand precariously placed throughout the room. Some converse with each other while a few others sip on the drinks they all seem to be holding in their hands. Each wears a finely tailored suit, wanting to look their absolute best for you.

As soon as those doors open, and they see you walking through the threshold being escorted by Yeosang, all of their focus immediately belongs to you.

Heartbeats accelerate all around, shivers running down a few of their spines as they take in the ethereal being that is you standing before them. Each man takes his time trailing his gaze over your body, drinking in the image that is you, and searing this moment into their memories for years to come.

Finally, after all of their planning, after all of their efforts and hard work, there you stand. Ready for their taking.

A few send pointed looks in Seonghwa’s direction at seeing the choice in dress you’re wearing, but they can deal with that later. Even if you are not wearing their own chosen gown for you, there is no denying your beauty.

Mingi is the first to seemingly snap out of the spell you’ve captivated them in at your arrival. Instantly, he’s appearing at your side, offering you a glass similar to all of theirs. You take it with a small nod in thanks, noticing how Yeosang already seems to be holding one of his own. You didn’t even notice him take one.

Taking a sip of your drink, your eyes search the room once more.

“Not to be rude, or presumptuous, or anything,” you begin, a look of mild confusion on your face, “but isn’t this dinner supposed to be for everyone staying at the hotel?”

“It is,” Hongjoong confirms, a gentle expression taking over his features. “Everyone is already here.”

He seriously cannot be telling you that you are their only guest at this hotel. It’s impossible.

“I know,” Yunho chuckles. “It’s hard to believe that you’re our only guest.”

There he goes again, seemingly reading your mind.

“Please,” Hongjoong motions to the table before you, “join us.”

A smile that you’re sure is meant to assure you appears on his face, only serving to unnerve you at the way his eyes lock onto your figure, watching your ever move.

Stepping towards the table, you see Seonghwa already pulling a chair out for you to sit in. Of course it would have to be the one right in the centre of the set of three.

Four chairs rest across from you, while two more sit at each head.

Slowly, you take your seat, allowing Seonghwa to tuck you in while thanking him politely.

As if they’ve done this countless times before, the eight men slide up to the table beside their own respective seats, moving fluidly as one to sit down. Hongjoong sits to your left while Seonghwa takes the seat to your right. Mingi sits at one head of the table, while San takes the other end. Across from you rests Yunho, Yeosang, Jongho, and Wooyoung in that order exactly, starting from your left.

You’re starting to think you stumbled upon a cult or something by accident.

Wooyoung has to cover up a snort of laughter just as he goes to take a sip of his drink, choking on the liquid in the next second. Jongho pats his back comfortingly.

“Are you alright?” Your brow furrows in concern as you look at the male across from you.

“Never better.” He clears his throat, offering you a cheeky grin in response.

In the next moment, Yunho is drawing your attention onto him as he asks you a question, a casual conversation soon starting between the nine of you. The more time you spend surrounded by these eight men, the more you start to relax. You don’t necessarily feel uncomfortable around them, it’s just the hotel that’s giving you such an ominous feeling.

Perhaps that’s where you go wrong.

It happens so suddenly, that you almost miss it. One second the place settings in front of you are empty, and the next, a steaming plate of food appears before your very eyes.

You startle in your seat, pressing yourself as far into the back of it as you can. With wide eyes, you stare down at your meal.

“Is something the matter?” Hongjoong asks, and you look up to find eight pairs of eyes all staring at you.

“Uh-” your voice catches in your throat, not quite sure how to describe the phenomenon that has just occurred in front of you.

“San worked very hard all evening on the meals,” Hongjoong adds, a glimmer in his eyes.

“I hope you enjoy!” Said man calls from just off to the side.

“Right,” you reply, somewhat warily. How can they all be acting like nothing abnormal just happened? “Thanks.”

Picking up your utensils, you clutch the steak knife tightly in your hand. Intently, you stare down at your food, half expecting your asparagus to come alive in the next second and start swishing from side to side like dragon tails.

“Go ahead,” Jongho catches your gaze from across the table, a piece of steak already speared on his fork and poised in the air halfway to his mouth. “Dig in.”

Immediately, you comply, worried you might appear rude for hesitating for so long before taking a bite of your meal. Softly, you chew the bite of your steak, the flavour melting on your tongue.

“Well?” San looks to you, almost expectantly.

“It’s delicious,” you reply, your whole demeanour calming as you see that look of joy take over his features. “Like always.”

“Our Sannie really knows how to cook,” Mingi says, a teasing lilt to his voice despite his praise.

“He’s the only one who won’t burn down the kitchen if left alone in one.” Yeosang replies, and you notice the way Mingi looks almost scandalized at his words.

“I would never!” He gasps dramatically.

The laugh that they all hear fall from your lips is like music to their ears.

The more they continue to bicker, the more you seem to ease back into your own comfort around them. You even go so far as to chime in here and there once again in the conversation, much to each of their pleasure, and relief in some cases. Just as you’re beginning to converse with Yunho, Jongho, and Yeosang about your favourite books, Wooyoung spares a glance around the table, locking gazes with the man sitting across from him.

So, are we going to discuss how our eldest here influenced our beloved to wear his dress? Wooyoung’s eyes narrow ever so subtly at the man before him.

Do you really think that little of me, brother? Seonghwa hums in response, quirking his brow slightly in challenge.

He’s not the only one suspicious of what your intentions were. San chimes in, resting his elbows on the table in front of him and clasping his hands beneath his chin, seeing as he’s finished his meal for the time being.

I had no influence over her decision what-so-ever. She made that choice all on her own. Seonghwa replies. It’s not my fault you all seem to lack taste.

Mingi chokes on his drink, blood rushing to the tips of his ears as annoyance floods his veins. At least you spare him a concerned glance, your inquiry into whether he’s okay or not immediately soothing his anger.

Watch it, Hwa. Hongjoong warns, sparing a glance at the male from the corner of his eyes, only to get enraptured by your excited expression in the next moment.

What happened in there, anyways? Yeosang adds without so much as breaking eye contact with you.

Wouldn’t you like to know? Seonghwa leans back slightly in his seat, a certain smugness surrounding him.

Yes. Jongho’s voice echoes through their heads. I think we’d all like to know that.

What did you do? Yunho asks, somewhat accusatory. He’s still suspicious that the eldest had something to do with which dress you picked for this evening, just as the rest of them are.

Fucking hell. Seonghwa lets out a small puff of air, low enough that you do not take notice. In a flash, Seonghwa is sharing his memories with the rest of them. Well, only certain aspects of them. There. Happy now?

No. Mingi grumbles. Now, I just feel worse.

Somehow knowing you were telling the truth makes my blood boil. Yeosang adds bitterly.

Can we not focus on how wonderful she looks instead? Jongho questions, a glint of awe shining in his eyes as he looks across the table at you while resting his head in the palm of his hand.

Has anyone thought to compliment her yet tonight? Hongjoong’s brow furrows only slightly as he doesn’t recall any of them showering you with any of the praise you deserve.

“By the way, I must say,” Wooyoung speaks, drawing your full, undivided attention towards him, “you look absolutely riveting this evening. That dress looks wondrous on you.”

“Oh, uh,” instantly, heat flares to your cheeks and your eyes go wide. A mental image of your little escapade, or rather, what you think you had simply imagined in that shop with Seonghwa flits through your mind. You blink, unaware of how the males around you all stiffen, the air in the room shifting in intensity. “Thank you.”

Park Seonghwa. The way Hongjoong drawls his name out has the elder male holding his breath in anticipation. Is there something you’d like to share with the rest of us?

Not particularly. Either Seonghwa is incredibly brave to continue hiding this from his brothers, or incredibly stupid. As soon as he feels seven mental spears probing at his mind, he knows it’s the latter.

A thwack resounds around the room as Yunho bangs his knee from beneath the table, the sound enough to make you jump.

“I thought we agreed not to touch her, to indulge in her until she was finally ours.” Hongjoong’s voice is low, ominous, as he stares right past you to the male directly to your right.

“You can’t blame me!” Seonghwa replies. “I know any of you would have done the same if given the chance. Don’t act so innocent here.”

Your eyes widen, heart hammering in your chest at his words. You have no idea what’s going on now, and you don’t think you want to stick around to find out.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Mingi warns, making eye contact with you just as the thought of fleeing crosses your mind.

“Okay, just what the hell is going on here?” Your voice draws all of their attention to you once more, and you end up shrinking back in your seat when you suddenly find yourself beneath the gazes of all eight men’s stares.

“There’s no point in keeping it from you any longer. You were bound to find out anyways, this is just not how we planned on telling you.” Hongjoong sighs, leaning back in his chair as he closes his eyes for a brief moment. “I’m sure you’ve noticed something’s amiss by now.”

“Tell me what?” Fear spikes within you. “That you guys are all part of some weird cult?”

Wooyoung, Yunho, San, and Mingi all burst out laughing at your words.

“You could say that,” Yeosang sighs. “It certainly feels like it sometimes.”

Your heartbeat rings in your ears.

“Stop that, you’re scaring her.” Jongho frowns.

Before you can say another word, someone is beating you to it.

“No, we’re not cultists.” Seonghwa sighs. “Though, I don’t think you’re going to feel much better learning what our true nature is.”

“Your ‘true nature’?” The furrow in your brow deepens, panic clear now on your features. “Don’t tell me you all think you’re vampires, or some shit like that.”

“Not quite,” San chuckles from the end of the table.

“More like demonic entities, if you will.” Again, that unnerving smile is back on Hongjoong’s features.

Your heart jumps into your throat. “You’re demons?”

“More or less,” Yunho shrugs casually, as if this is a conversation they have every day.

“No.” You state, placing a hand onto of the table to brace yourself with. “No. This isn’t possible.”

“Anything is possible, my dear,” Seonghwa grins. Truly, a chilling sight which sends a shiver right down your spine.

“This is insane.” You hiss, shaking your head as you stare at your hand placed on the table. Your fingers brush against something familiar.

“The first step towards sanity is embracing the insane.” Hongjoong replies, and you turn to see him stand from his chair.

“Do you really think that everything that’s happened to you within the past thirty-six hours has been natural?” Hongjoong cocks his head at you as he tilts your chair slightly to face him. “We have powers that you cannot even begin to comprehend, Love.”

You swallow the dryness in your throat. “I don’t believe you.”

“It wasn’t some random force that compelled you to take a road trip on your one weekend off,” Hongjoong grins, his eyes flashing black. “It was us.”

A gasp escapes you as his dark eyes lock onto yours. So you haven’t been imagining things. Their eyes really do shift black.

With your heartbeat ringing through your ears, you lean as far back in your seat as you can to get away from him. Your one hand still rests firmly on the table beside you, and you can feel the other’s eyes on you, watching your every move. Waiting with bated breath. For what, you’re not quite sure, but if they have strong powers, and what you’ve been experiencing- been assuming- is all true, then they can also read your mind. Your thoughts are no longer safely your own.

“What is it that you want from me, then?” You meet Hongjoong’s gaze, and you watch as it softens.

“I thought we all made that obvious by now,” he shares a quick glance with the males all sitting around the table, grins pulling onto all of their faces. “We just want you.”

“Me?” To say you’re caught off guard would be an understatement. “You mean you want my soul?”

“Sure, your soul would be nice.” Mingi nods.

“To have and to hold,” Jongho agrees with a nod of his own.

“To cherish and protect,” Wooyoung adds.

“To love and to care for.” San hums, taking another sip from his drink.

“Only if you give it to us willingly,” Seonghwa’s voice is surprisingly soft; tender.

“But never for us to take.” Yeosang shakes his head slightly, as if to emphasize his words.

“Or to keep.” Yunho assures you.

You spare a glance around you as best as you can, confusion clear in your eyes. “I don’t follow.”

“What we’re saying is,” Hongjoong takes a moment to meet your gaze, a tender look shining behind his irises as a smile tugs at the corner of his lips, “we want you. All of you. Mind, body, and soul.”

You can do nothing but stare at him, words failing you as your lips part. You swear your heart is about to burst with how intensely it thunders away in your chest.

“Of course, we would love it if you agreed to become ours willingly,” Hongjoong adds, and you can hear the underlying threat beneath his words. At the sense of fear that spikes within you, he’s quick to assure you. “I promise you that we would never hurt you.”

“We only want to love you,” Seonghwa adds softly.

“To cherish you,” Mingi breathes.

“To protect you,” San voices gently.

“To worship you,” Wooyoung says, voice barely above a whisper.

“To live out the rest of our lives together,” Yeosang’s breath catches slightly in his throat.

“To always be there for you,” Jongho nods his head assuringly in your direction.

“You are everything to us,” Yunho whispers, voice raw with the honesty of his words.

“So please,” Hongjoong draws your attention back to him, his forehead coming to rest against your own as he stares deeply into your eyes, “won’t you let us?”

A small silence settles over the nine of you as you allow their words to sink in. You can barely form any cohesive thoughts, sitting as still as you possibly can as you attempt to wrap you head around this turn of events. Never did you expect for this to happen.

Your lips part, and they all find themselves holding their breaths, greatly anticipating your answer.

“No.”

Hongjoong blinks. This time, it’s his turn to be stunned by your response, pulling away slightly in his shock. “No?”

“No.” You repeat, much firmer this time.

Before any of them can say anything, or even react for that matter, you’re stabbing Hongjoong with your steak knife and pushing him off of you. Standing from your seat with enough force to knock your chair off its balance, you send it toppling to the floor. Not even a moment later, you’re sprinting for the door and out of the dining room, fleeing down the hallway in which you first arrived from.

Your footsteps echo down the corridor as the eight men can only sit there, stunned for the moment at this turn of events. Well, that didn’t go at all how they had planned.

In the blink of an eye, San, Wooyoung, Mingi, and Yeosang have disappeared, chasing after you without a second thought.

“She stabbed me.” Hongjoong voices incredulously, disbelief clear on his face. “She stabbed me.”

“Yes, and?” Seonghwa quirks a brow, amusement dancing in his eyes as he watches Hongjoong pull the knife out of his shoulder, blood dripping onto the floor as he stares intently at the weapon in question. “How does that make you feel?”

“Honestly?” Hongjoong looks over at the older male, nodding his head slightly in awe. “Impressed and horny.”

“Come on,” Seonghwa rolls his eyes at his leader. “Let’s go get our girl.”

Nothing but the sound of the knife clattering to the ground echoes throughout the room as the remaining four of them teleport to where you managed to run off to. You didn’t get very far, only able to reach the lobby before the first half of their group found you. They had appeared in an instant, surrounding you on all sides, and preventing you from escaping. Your pleas to let you go fall on deaf ears.

As soon as you see the other four appear out of thin air, your panic rises. Any and all chance of escape that you had had just now becomes slim to none.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Hongjoong pouts. “And after all that we’ve done for you, too.”

“Just let me leave, and we can pretend that none of this ever happened.” Comes your reply, noting the way a small blotch of red stains the front of his shirt where the knife had pierced him.

“I don’t think you fully comprehend your situation right now,” Hongjoong shakes his head, tutting all the while. “I already told you. You’re ours, and we’re not going to let you go so easily.”

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” you explain, voice coming out much firmer than you thought it would. “I’m going to grab my bag from my room, and then I’m checking out of this godforsaken hotel. I’m going to get into my car, drive home, and none of you will ever see me again.”

“Sure, you can check out of here any time you’d like. This isn’t even a real place,” Hongjoong chuckles as he watches your expression fall, horror at the realization of what his words mean painting your features. “We tried to be reasonable, to give you a choice. Now, you’ll just have to accept the terms you’ve signed yourself up for. You’re ours, and you’re in our domain now, Love. You can never leave.”

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clairity-org · 7 months

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Copper Harbor, MI 8/29/23 by Sharon Mollerus

#Upper Peninsula #Copper Harbor #UP #Hunter's Point Park #Michigan #Eagle Harbor #MI #flickr

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lazygirldoesfics · 2 months

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drunk confession [1/7]

how i imagine each of the bistro huddy guys would drunkenly confess their feelings for you

starting with nico !!

Nicole plops into the passenger seat of your old sedan, heaving a sigh. "Thanks for picking me up last minute."

"No worries, you're on my way anyway. What happened to Bridgette?"

"She fucking bailed." You watch as Nicole studies herself in the visor mirror. She picks at her mascara, eyes sparking with outrage as she continues, "Her bum ass boyfriend told her she 'couldn't come', that it's not 'his scene' so it'd be 'disrespectful' if she goes to another guy's birthday party without him. Like fucking grow up."

"Unbelievable," you groan, commiserating.

"I don't know why she stays with him," Nicole says smacking the visor back into place before she turns to you. Her lips curl upwards, deviously. "Which means we have to put in the work tonight to make sure she feels every bit of FOMO and gets pissed at that piece of shit so I'm not the only one seething about it." Nicole pulls out her phone, angling the camera to get both of you in the shot, and snaps a picture when you're wearing matching frowns. She texts it to Bridgette as you shift the car into gear and take off.

"Of course he picks a spot with absolutely no fucking parking," Nicole complains as you make your way to the club. The click clack of your heels echoes every inch of road you had to drive down until you finally found a place to park. Nicole keeps having to pull her dress down, grumbling each time she wrangles the hem back into it's place. You suppress a smile, amused by her grumpiness, knowing fully well that if she didn't want to be here she wouldn't have put in the effort to show up.

"It's gonna be fun," you cheer. "He's been talking up this spot all week."

Nicole stops dead, glancing down at you with eyes bearing just a hint of judgement. "It's Nico. I don't exactly trust his idea of a great spot. I'm prepared for sexual harassment and well drinks that taste like diesel." You shove her playfully with your elbow and that at least rises a smile out of her. "All I'm saying is I better get extra fries all week for coming to this. Like they better be hot and waiting as soon as I clock in."

"Agreed," you laugh.

There's a line out the door that emits more cursing from Nicole, but you make the best of it by sending selfies to Bridgette while you wait. She responds to each one almost instantly, hearting the messages or sending crying emojis. You frown when Nicole suggests this means Bridgette's probably watching reruns of Real Housewives by herself, while her boyfriend ignores her.

When it's your turn to be inspected by the bouncer, you give him your best smile. He barely glances at you before waving you passed the threshold. Stepping beyond the entrance door, you become engulfed by the change in atmosphere. Sweat slick air clings to you, fog from the DJ booth hazes your vision and the thrum of the bass pulsates through to your core. An air of cloying desperation sinks into your skin while your heels stick to the grime covered floor.

Nicole coughs next to you, disdain barely concealed. Eagle-eyed, you spot a guy stumbling towards your direction, beer sloshing onto the floor in his wake. Gently, you steer Nicole to the left, just beyond the drunken splash zone, saving her from a drenching.

That man has no idea of the life debt he owes you.

Nicole clenches her eye shut, breathing deeply. "Okay. Okay! I'm aligning my energy. I am here." Her eyes snap open and she brushes her long blond tendril back. "Let's go kill this shit."

She uses her height to scan the crowd and you're happy to watch from your shorter vantage point. "I see them." Nicole strides through the crowd towards the left side of the dance floor and you follow the path she carves. Still, she checks behind her every so often to make sure she hasn't lost you.

At last you make it through the crowd, rewarded with the sight of familiar faces. Brad turns his attention from the bar to wave a greeting, then signals back to the bartender to add two more drinks to his order. Ruby toasts her beer to you with a barely perceptible nod. Joey, perched at the edge of a black plastic bar stool, rubs at his temples. "This music is fucking awful."

"Oh, don't be such a boomer, Joey," Nicole teases, happy to abandon her own irritability if it means she gets to rub Joey's face in his. He mouths for her to shut up and Nicole responds by turning around to snap a selfie. She winks at you after sending the photo off to Bridgette, a secret between the two of you that she actually agrees with Joey more than he'll ever know. You choke down a laugh as you sit next to Ruby, letting Nicole sidle up to Brad and grab the two drinks he ordered for you both.

"Where's the birthday boy?" you ask and Ruby nods towards the dance floor. It's easy to spot Nico with his signature red bandana, though you don't know the cute blond girl he's dancing with. The burn of a blush creeps up your neck as you linger on Nico's hand clutching at the girl's side, ashamed that you notice the way his eyes rake down her figure. Besides him is Pickles, bouncing around like a pinball and dancing, presumably, with himself. That, at least, makes you smile.

"Bottoms up!" Nicole announces, handing a shot off to you. Her and Ruby share a terse smile. You wish they'd get along better, they are so incredibly alike.

You down the shot, letting the warm burn fill you. "Next one's on me!" you say, putting the glass down on the table and standing. "Anyone gonna dance?"

Ruby stills and Nicole proclaims she's not ready, turning back towards the bar to get another drink. Brad scans the crowd, though his eyes seem to trail after Nicole as she flirts with the bartender.

"Joey?"

The chef shakes his head. "Sorry, sunshine, as soon as this beer's done I'm out of here." He shakes his half full bottle of Coors at you. You put your hands on your hips, feigning appall. "You're all boring." With that, you jump into the crowd next to Pickles and bump your hip into his in time with the music.

"Y/N!!!" Pickles beams, flinging his arms around you and squeezing. "I'm so happy you're here!"

You squeeze Pickles just as hard, then take his hand to let him twirl you around. As you spin your eyes lock with Nico's, unaware that he'd even noticed you were here. You smile at him over Pickles' shoulder, and his lips pull into that lazy half-grin he sometimes gives you from behind the line. The blond he is with is lightning fast though, putting her hands on either side of his face to pull his focus back to her.

Your chest tightens, but the music changes to a song with a fast bass that dissolves the knots forming. You grab onto Pickles' hands and you jump together while sing-screaming the lyrics at each other. This goes on for awhile, the songs bleeding into each other, each one hyping you and Pickles up more and more.

The latest song begins to fade and Pickles leans into you, panting. "I need water."

You nod in agreement, fanning yourself with the neck of your shirt. Hands entwined, Pickles pulls you off the dance floor. Ruby and Joey are exactly where you'd left them, a few more beer bottles discarded around the table and hands waving wildly as they argue about something. Nicole stands a few feet away, back leisurely pressed against the bar. She's making exaggerated expressions over her espresso martini glass. You follow her eye line as you press up to the bar next to her and realize she is silently judging Brad's dance partner. Brad's eyebrows react back to her, and though not a word passes either of their lips, they are having a full blown conversation. Gracefully, Brad untangles himself from the girl, walking back over to Nicole in defeat. "I didn't think she was that bad."

"I didn't say a word," Nicole responds, smugly.

Barely hiding a smirk as the bartender approaches, you ask for two waters, handing a cup over to Pickles when they're given to you. The song changes just as the water hits your lips. The familiar opening bars to a Queen song fills the club. You turn to Pickles, eyes meeting each other in pure delight and the water cups are immediately discarded. "Oh we're ALL dancing to this one!" You proclaim, latching onto Nicole and Brad's wrists. You pull them forward, pushing them to follow Pickles onto the floor before you turn on Ruby and Joey. "You guys too, let's go! C'mon Joseph!" Ruby gets up, feigning reluctance as she lets you prod her along while you pull Joey by the crook of his elbow onto the floor with you.

You meet the others just in time to hear the girl Nico had been dancing with pout over the song being lame. She leaves when she realizes Nico's attention is totally lost for the moment. The song may not be her thing, but it also probably didn't help the way Pickles was jumping on top of Nico with abandon, holding absolutely no regard for her attempt to continue grinding. You all surround Nico, singing at the top of your lungs and jostling him in the middle of your mini mosh pit. Even Joey belts out a few words and plays air drums along with Nico's air guitar. Nicole catches it all on video, instantly sending it to Bridgette.

"Alright, alright. I'm outta here," Joey says as the song ends, waving his hands in front of his chest when you groan in protest. He pulls Nico in for an overly aggressive hug and slap on the back. "And don't any of yous be late tomorrow. I'm not dealing with a Terry temper tantrum." A chorus of 'bye Joey' and eye rolls reply to him.

"I'm heading out too. Happy Birthday," Ruby adds, a near smile hinting at her lips before following her boss towards the exit.

"Need. Water." Pickles pants again and heads back to the bar, just as the blond girl re-enters and takes up Pickles' spot next to Nico. Nicole and Brad, who have somehow gotten into an argument about how to make a proper gin martini, are so lost in their own bickering that they haven't noticed the crowd jostling around them. You stand awkwardly next to them, not wanting to get involved but feeling like you can't exactly escape either. Holding your arms across your chest, you sway uncertainly.

A hand find yours, and you look over your shoulder to see Nico tugging you back towards him. "It's not too early to cash in on a birthday dance is it?" He smiles at you in that aloof way, his eyes focusing in on you. A question bubbles on your tongue, wanting to know where the blond went but you decide you'd rather not know. "No, not too early. Right on time, I think," you smile back, fitting your arms around his neck.

His left hand is soft against your lower back, fingers guiding you to sway back and forth in time with the music. You're moving slow, the beat lost as you can feel the inches between you and Nico closing. The club is nothing but Nico's dark eyes swallowing you, the weight of his arms pulling around you until you're poised to meld together. You can't take the heat of Nico's eyes on you anymore so you hide against his collarbone, eyes shutting and letting the smell of earth and smoke on his shirt collar encompass your whole world. You're not sure if the thrumming you feel is the bass or your own heart, if you're still dancing or just standing still wrapped up in Nico's arms.

Suddenly you're knocked backwards, stumbling over your own feet until you hit up against someone. "Hey!" a voice shouts, indignant and you mumble an apology as you try to find reality again. "What the fuck, man," Nico's saying, head turning to glare at the man who'd shoved him and caused you to nearly fall on your ass. The guy is standing over him, absolutely beaming. When Nico finally sees him, he starts laughing. "Oh! Yo, I almost fucked you up man!" The two start shoving each other, albeit playfully, as more guys surround Nico, shouldering anyone, including you, out of the way to land punches and smacks on Nico's shoulder and stomach.

You feel disoriented, discarded even, as you slowly find your way back to the edge of the dance floor. You find the others there, all looking towards the sea of newcomers that have swallowed Nico. "Who are those guys?" you ask, hating how defeated your voice sounds.

"I think they used to work with Nico at Waffle House, at least some of them did," Pickles informs you. You try not to watch him assess you, ignoring the slight frown he wears as he turns to the bar to order another water. You drink it slowly when he hands it to you, watching the amorphous blob of raucous men completely take over the dance floor.

"And that's my cue to leave," Nicole asserts. "Ready?" she looks at you expectantly.

You should leave. You know this in the way you feel cold and unsure and slightly humiliated but you can't ignore that something just opened up between you and Nico. You're not quite ready to leave whatever that is behind yet.

"I'll drive you home," Brad interjects, saving you from having to say anything at all. You're not sure if he could sense your hesitation or if he was just looking for an opening of his own, but you're grateful nonetheless. As long as Nicole agrees.

Her eyes flit to Brad, assessing him with the quickness of a hummingbird's wings. "Let's go then," she says as if it's a challenge, daring Brad to follow through on something unspoken. You watch them disappear, Brad's hand hovering at the small of Nicole's back as she leads them through the crowd.

Next to you, Pickles rifles through his front jean pocket. He pulls out a bag of Skittles, pours some into his hands and offers them to you. "You don't have to stay for me you know," he chirps, "I told Nico I'd drive him home so I'm here for the long run."

You shove the Skittles into your mouth, the candy sticking to your teeth. You look towards the dance floor, watching the group of men you don't know chatting up different girls and pointing them towards Nico. You fix a smile on your face for Pickles. "I'm having too much fun to leave."

Pickles nods, giving you a look that's somewhere between skepticism and pity. You sigh, letting your shoulders sag and the pit in your stomach swallow you down with its full weight before putting your hand back out for Pickles to fill with more candy. Instead you feel a warm weight in your hand. You look up to see Nico, hand wrapping around yours. "You're still here," he's beaming at you, though his eyes are so glassy you're not sure how he can even see you clearly.

"Yeah," you answer softly, wishing you could stop the smile that's spreading from cheek to cheek.

"I think you need water," Pickles says after assessing Nico's wobbly stance, excusing himself from the table. Nico's still standing over you, hand in yours. "Our dance got interrupted," he says, his signature lazy laugh chasing after his words. He starts to move to the music that's playing, eyes slowly shutting. A heavy arm slams into his shoulder, and in the startle Nico slips his hand away from yours.

"You gonna introduce me?" It's the same guy that shoved into Nico while you two were dancing. His eyes waggle towards you in a way that makes you recoil.

"Oh uh, Carmine this is--"

He interrupts before Nico can finish. "No, let me guess. Nicole, right? Or are you Amber?"

You frown. "Neither. Actually, you just missed Nicole."

"Damn!" Carmine snaps his finger. "I really wanted to see the hottie my boy won't shut up about it."

"Bro," Nico says, with what could be a glare if his eyes were alert at all.

"Nah, I mean, you're cute too, don't get me wrong. What's your name sweetheart?"

"I'm nobody," you answer, hastily. "And I'm leaving so…have a good night. It was nice to meet you." You stand, ignoring the hushed way Nico tries to stall you. You put a hand on his shoulder to stop his fretting. "Happy birthday, Nico." You lean in, landing a soft, barely there kiss to his cheek. Eyes glued to the exit sign, you walk as fast as you can towards it before you completely lose your composure. You even ignore Pickles when he calls your name, pretending not to hear the way he asks Nico what happened to make you run off.

You look back at the dance floor quickly, noticing Nico's red bandana bob and sway in the crowd. You leave before it gets too close. The cold air outside hits you in the face like a brick, clearing your senses and leaving you with a weird empty feeling. Like you had something in the palm of your hand but it's slipped through your fingers. You walk a few feet, until the music is no longer drumming in your ears, and lean against the wall of a closed Chinese takeout. Your hands brace against your knees and you let yourself breathe. You can feel tears start to prick at your eyes but you're too drained to fight them off. You can't help but wonder what the hell that was all about. Your feelings for Nico aren't entirely a secret to anyone, certainly not to yourself, though you hope you've always held your composure well enough. You're always hiding your blushing cheeks when he flirts and batting away Nicole and Amber's teasing when they catch you smiling to yourself after leaving the kitchen. But you always held it arm's length, knowing it was all just part of the fun with Nico. It can't ever be serious with him, it just can't be.

"Y/N."

His voice is like a rasps against the wind. You brush your eyes quickly, straightening up as Nico jogs haphazardly towards you.

"Why'd you leave so fast?" he says, breathing heavy as he catches up to you.

"Sorry, yeah, I um, I didn't realize how late it was," you lie.

"Are you mad or somethin'?"

You shake your head as he contemplates you. Eventually he leans against the wall next to you, pulling his vape out for a long pull, as if that's going to help him breathe any easier.

You shrug one shoulder up. "I didn't want to overstay my welcome, is all," you admit quietly, trying to escape the track of his eyes on you. His lids are heavy almost closing as he rests his head back against the wall, yet he won't take his eyes off you. "Not possible for you to do that."

"I have to go, Nico." You say gently.

"Don't." Nico says, hand finding yours again. Entwining your fingers together, Nico tugs you towards him and you oblige, leaning against your side so you're facing him. His head falls into the crook of your neck and you can feel him nuzzling against the sensitive skin there.

"Nico," you protest without any real harshness or edge to your tone. Just a sadness that you can't mask the way you normally would.

"Stay," he pleads, hand trailing down your back. "Everyone else can leave, if it means you'll stay." His words murmur against your skin. Lips press against the side of your neck so gentle you're not sure you really feel anything at all. You sigh as he moves further up, letting him land soft little kisses up your neck to the nape of your ear. He nips at your lobe and that's when you have to push him away.

"Nico," you say firmly, putting a hand against his chest to make distance. He smirks as his head lolls back against the brick wall.

"C'mon baby," his hand hooks around your wrist, thumb running gentle circles. "I know you want me."

Your heart drops, sinking into the deepest pit of your stomach. You wretch away from him. "Don't be an asshole."

Nico's bloodshot eyes widen and he shakes his head as he stumbles forward trying to cling onto you again. "No, no, no. I want it too. YOU, I mean, I want YOU too."

He's holding onto your wrists, knees slightly bent as he sways in the non-existent wind. You're afraid he's going to fall down and you won't have the strength to pick him up so you walk him back towards the wall so he can lean against it. You try to pull your hand from him but he just holds on even tighter. "It's your birthday, you're drunk and you're just trying to get laid. There's a million girls in that club that would be happy to go home with you. Please don't do this to me, Nico. It's not fair. "

"They're not you. I don't want them."

"You don't want me either!" you laugh, incredulously.

Nico's mouth drops open, eyebrows shooting straight up as if they're going to hide in his bandana. "You're all I want!" You don't know how to respond to that. You stare back towards the club hoping Pickles or Carmine or someone will appear and come take him away so you can just go home and forget this entire night happened.

"I like you SO much," Nico confesses, eyes still wide and words slurring together. "Like, I haven't even quit once since you started working. Every time I get to see you it makes all the like bullshit worth it. I know it's kinda crazy, you and me. You deserve a lot better."

All the wind knocks out of you. You try to process what Nico is saying, justify it against the way his eyes glaze over with alcohol and weed. "You're drunk," you say again, an explanation.

"Yeah," he smiles, lopsided. "No way I'd ever tell you this shit if I wasn't."

And though his eyes are barely open there's a sincerity to his words. "You know," he continues, "I've seen our future, if we like, try this. It's all good baby, just me and you forever. 'Till the four kids of course."

"Four?" you laugh,"That seems like a lot."

"Okay maybe two, and a cat named Lucy."

"I'd like a cat," you smile, leaning against him as Nico wraps his arms around your waist. You can feel the stretch of his smile against your cheek as he spreads kisses across your face. He moves closer to your mouth and you can feel his lips reach out for yours. You catch his head between your palms. "Not while you're drunk," you reprimand gently.

"That's fair. I can fuck with that," Nico smiles. "Tomorrow then. I'm taking out for breakfast before our shift and I'mma kiss the shit out of you."

"Sure," you smile back. "IF you remember any of this."

"Oh, baby, I'll never forget it."

Nico grabs you, picking you up off the ground as he twirls you just slightly. You're a little afraid you're both going to fall and tumble to the ground but he makes it around a little half circle before setting you back down. You throw your arms around his neck, holding him close as he nuzzles deep against your cheek.

Your phone pings, notifying you of a text. You pull it out from your purse, swiping it open while Nico continues to nestle into you. It's from Nicole, a picture of she took of you and Nico dancing. In it you're pressed against him, face hidden in his collar as he looks down on you with an expression of pure serenity. Looking at it you can't help the butterflies that swarm within you. You hold Nico even tighter, hiding your big, wide grin against his hair.

#bistro huddy #headcannons #nico x reader #god i hope there's somebody out there who wants this beside me hahahahhaa

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