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holylulusworld · 11 months

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Two can play a game

Summary: Your arranged marriage is far from perfect. When Ransom takes one step too far, you pay him back the best way possible.

Pairing: Mafia!Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader, ???!Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, arranged marriage, Ransom being an asshole, cheating, implied cheating, mentions of sidepieces, making out, implied smut, mafia au

There he is, licking whipped cream off some bimbos’ tits. The woman moans and fakes she’s having fun. Just like some many greedy bitches wanting to get their hands on his wealth before.

Ransom Drysdale. Your husband. The self-declared gift to all women.

At the beginning of your arranged marriage, you easily overlooked his flaws and quirks. He was a good-looking and charming man, easily working his way into your heart and between your legs.

Ransom was passionate and sweet. Even if he was a little too cocky and arrogant for your taste. He was a prick to most people, including your friends. The only person he treated with respect was you.

Back then you believed this arranged marriage can work out.

Sometimes you even felt loved by your husband. And you reflected his feelings.

But all good things come to an end.

Your little bubble burst when you walked in on him railing one of the new maids. He didn’t even try to hide his infidelity. Proud of himself for leading you on, and making you believe you are more than a pawn to him.

Ransom declared your marriage is not a real marriage. Arranged marriages don’t count in his opinion. That’s what he said. His poor excuse for cheating on you.

Since that day, you refuse to sleep in the same room with him. Just like you didn’t let him touch you. The thought of riding the same dick he pushed into some bitch’s cunt was enough to leave your pussy dry most of the time when it comes to your husband.

“Oh, my beloved wife,” Ransom lifts his head from his latest conquest’s tits.

“Does she want to join us?” The girl squeaks as her eyes land on you.

Ransom grins, but you ignore the little pang in your chest. “Ah, better not. She’s frigid, you know.” He says to the girl he has on top of your kitchen counter.

“When you are done here, call someone to get rid of the kitchen counter. You never know where your little skank was before you found her on the sidewalk,” you snap at your husband.

He watches you open the fridge to get a bottle of water. “If you would excuse us now,” he grunts. “Or do you want to watch?” Ransom tries to rile you up. It’s a fight for dominance and you won’t lose it.

“Sorry, but limp dicks don’t do it for me, honey,” you bite back. “I’ll talk to our neighbor. He invited me over to talk about the next book we want to read. At least he’s got good taste.”

“See. That’s why I prefer fucking hot women like Cassie.”

“My name is Kathy,” the blonde protests. “Did you already forget my name?” She frowns deeply. “Ran?”

“He didn’t even listen when you told him your name.” You walk out of the kitchen, sway in your hips. “If you go home with Ransom Drysdale, you are destined to get disappointed. In any way. He doesn’t even know where to find your G-spot, and he won’t try to find it …

“Y/N, hey,” Andy smiles widely when you stand in front of his door. It happens ever so often since you found out about Ransom’s infidelity. “Bad day?”

You sniff and shake your head. “Do you have a drink with my name on it, Andy?” He opens the door wider to let you in. Andy doesn’t ask what happened. He waits for you to talk to him.

“Always, neighbor.” He closes the door behind you. “What can I offer to you.”

“Distraction, and maybe a place to stay for the night,” you lick your lips. “Ransom has company.” Your eyes drop to the diamond ring on your finger.

“He brought one of his sidepieces to your home,” Andy sounds almost shocked. Almost… “Why would he do such a thing?”

“He likes to play games.” You shrug. “I refused to play along and let him fuck me after I found out about his harem of bimbos. If only he was at least a himbo with a big dick.”

Andy nods thoughtfully when you finally explode.

“I had to let my doctor check me for STDs. Can you imagine how I felt? I’m married and ask them to run all the tests. I bet they believed I’m the one who cheated!” You start to pace the room. “I haven’t looked at another man.”

“Y/N, you need to take deep breaths,” Andy softly speaks to you.

He looks at you with soft blue eyes, and fuck, he looks so good. Did he always look so good?

“No. I need to get this out.” You raise your hand. “I-I was always faithful. I could’ve fucked countless guys, but I didn’t. Because that’s not who I am, Andy.”

“I know. You’re a good girl,” he replies, making you stop in your tracks.

He looks at you, eyes drifting toward your lips. You take a breath, and another before you grab his face to kiss him. Andy doesn’t hesitate. He eagerly kisses you back.

Damn, he tastes even better. Like mint, and the coffee he drank. You cup the back of his neck and run your free hand over his back. He moans into you, tongue delving into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he wraps his arms around you and kisses you again. This time, he suckles at your tongue. “You taste so good.”

He laughs against you. “You too,” Andy nips at your lips. “Do you want this? I don’t want to take advantage of you. We can just talk a little and…”

You silence his doubts with your lips. “I wanted you the moment you moved in across the street four years ago.”

“Same,” he pants between kisses. “But you were married, and I was freshly divorced.” You grab the hem of his shirt, shoving it up to his arms. “Fuck, you looked so cute in your summer dress.”

“Yeah?” You whine as he buries his face in your neck. He kisses your skin, nipping and licking your sweet spot while you hastily unbuckle his belt. “What did you want to do with me?”

“Fuck you until you can’t walk straight.” Andy shoves his pants down his legs, stepping out of them.

“Just like right now?”

You gasp when he grips your hips to hoist you up and slam you into the wall, causing a few picture frames to drop to the ground.

Andy doesn’t seem to mind. He crushes his lips onto yours, kissing you passionately. You moan into his mouth and wrap your legs around his waistline.

“Right now,” he growls against you. All softness is gone when he looks at you pressed against the wall. “I wanna ruin you for him.”

“Ruin me. Make me yours,” you challenge. You allow him to grind his erection against your core and offer your body to him. All you want in return is to forget about your unfaithful husband.

“If you let me have you, I won’t allow you to go back to him. You’ll be mine,” Andy warns. “Name what you want.”

You whimper at his words. Ransom never asked what you want. No one ever did.

“You.” You breathlessly reply. “I want you. Make me forget about him.”

You roll to your side, smiling as your eyes land on the man next to you. Still, you hold your breath. What if this wasn’t the best idea you ever had?

What if he regrets what happened last night?

What if he breaks his promises and forgot about all the things he said to you while he claimed your body?

Andy dips his head to look at you. “Morning beautiful.” He rolls to his side to look at you. “Slept well?”

“Yeah,” you don’t know why your voice trembles. Maybe because you fear Andy is the same as your unfaithful husband. He seems so different from the prick you are married to, but you let a pretty face and charming personality fool you once.

Andy runs his hand over your arm, fingertips tickling your skin. “What do you want to do today?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. Honestly, after last night everything has changed. You only came to Andy’s house to seek shelter for a few hours, or one night.

Now that you gave in to your feelings, you cannot go back to Ransom and pretend it doesn’t break you to see how less you mean to him.

“How about we go to your house, deliver the divorce papers I prepared while you were sleeping, and pack your things? I’ll bring a few friends to help you carry the heavy stuff.”

You’re taken aback. “What?” Stammering you look at Andy who lovingly cups your cheek to press a soft kiss on your lips. “Andy, this isn’t funny. I need to think about what to do now. You don’t know my husband. He’s a prick, but also dangerous and he won’t let me walk out on him so easily.”

“You think I care?” Andy chuckles darkly. “Oh, beautiful. I told you that you are going to be mine when you let me, have you. Didn’t I?”

“Yes.” You remember vividly how you begged him to make you his, and only his. That you agreed to become his pretty little wife, and always cum for him. “That was in the heat of the moment. Wasn’t it?”

“Y/N, I dreamed of taking you out for years. Every time I wanted to ask you to leave your husband, you told me about him with so much adoration that I couldn’t make a move. But now that I know he fucked up, I can’t miss the chance.”

“Andy, I can’t end my marriage only to become someone else’s arm candy or his most prized possession. I’m not a toy, nor a brainless doll you can use.”

“Baby, I swear this isn’t how I see you,” Andy presses another soft kiss on your lips. “Let me help you. If you don’t want to be with me, I understand. All I want is to make sure that Ransom Drysdale leaves you the fuck alone.”

“Why?” You question.

“Because,” he kisses you again, slow and gentle, “I think I love you…”

“Y/N, what’s the douche from next door doing at my house,” Ransom follows you and Andy. “I’m talking to you!”

“Oh, I thought as you are busy disappointing one of your playthings with your limp dick,” you snap at Ransom. “I can bring a real man to satisfy my needs too.”

“Beautiful, why don’t you go upstairs and look for all the things you want to take with you? My friends will be here any minute.”

“Okay,” you nervously glance at Ransom. “Be careful. He’s dangerous.”

“Don’t worry, baby,” Andy pecks your cheek. “I’ll be careful.”

Turning his head toward Andy your husband’s features darken. “If you touched my wife, you are dead.” He pats the gun hidden under his jacket. “If you leave my house now, I’ll only break every bone in your body.”

Andy laughs into Ransom’s face.

“You’ve got no clue who I’m.” Stepping toward your husband, Andy sizes Ransom up. “Do you honestly believe you are scaring me? You’re nothing but a pathetic man cheating on his beautiful wife and,” Andy leans closer to Ransom to whisper in his ear. “I’m long enough in town to know that you are not on top of the food chain any longer. Your time is running out.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about!”

“The deal last week,” Andy smirks darkly, “the one you couldn’t seal? I took it over. Your business partners are my partners now. Your wife. Is mine. Your friends, mine too. I dismantled Ransom Drysdale piece by piece.”

“Why? How?”

“At first, I moved in next door to check your territory out. But then, I saw your wife and the way you treated her. She didn’t know you were a piece of shit cheating on her from day one.”

“You did all this for my wife?” Ransom hiccups. “You’re insane. Starting a war over some pussy!”

“You don’t get it,” Andy hisses. “Y/N is not some pussy to me. She’s everything, and I’ll make her my queen.”

While you look for the things you want to take with you, Andy threatens Ransom and his organization.

When you walk back down the stairs, your husband already signed the divorce papers. He will let you go and get out of town as fast as possible.

Ransom didn’t know that no one messes with Andrew Barber. The head of the Boston mafia. One of the deadliest men alive…

Tags in reblog.

#Two can play a game #andy barber #ransom drysdale #andy barber x you #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #ransom drysdale x reader #angst #tw: cheating #mafia au

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wholoveseggs · 6 months

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Extra-Extra-Extraordinary {three}

♡♡ HAPPY HOLIDAYS ♡♡

18+ ---- {Masterlist}

Just a quick ménage à trois with the boys … but it's round three & under the mistletoe.

8.5k words {I'm so sorry, I can't write anything short} - Warnings: Smuttier than santa, {soft?} dom Elijah & Klaus, jealousy, a little violence & angst, biting, blood drinking, Klaus being Klaus, Elijah being the rough one, panettone.

{Part One} {Part Two} Don't worry, reading Part 3 without Part 1 and 2 is totally fine. You might miss the plot, but hey, that's not really the point of these, right? -xoxo ♡♡

"It's okay to love fucking them both. I did." ---Kathy P

Twas the night before the Mikaelson’s Christmas party, and you were snuggled up with Elijah on the sofa, drinking whiskey and eggnog, enjoying a quiet moment together. You had a batch of gingerbread cookies baking in the oven, the warm scent of them hanging in the air.

Klaus sauntered over with a cheeky smile, taking a seat next to you. "Well, isn't that quite the cozy picture," he teased, raising an eyebrow in mock innocence.

You playfully smacked his arm. "Don't start, Nik."

"Oh, come now. I was simply admiring your happiness." Klaus raised his glass in a toast. "To love and family."

Glasses clinked, and you all took a sip, reveling in the camaraderie of the moment. A comfortable silence settled, interrupted by Klaus leaning in with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"I'm afraid there's a slight problem, though."

Your curiosity piqued, you quirked an eyebrow. "Oh? What's the issue?"

"Well, I didn't get a present for you," Klaus confessed with a sly smile.

"Oh, don't worry, Nik, I wasn't expecting—"

He cut you off, his playful smile deepening. "I mean, I don't have a physical gift. But," he paused, the intensity in his gaze making you squirm. "I have a much better idea."

"Klaus, stop it," you warned, feigning annoyance.

"I was thinking I could give you some more quality time with my tongue," Klaus whispered, his words going straight to your core.

Elijah's arm instinctively tightened around you, and you knew he had heard the exchange. You couldn't deny the rush of desire that shot through you. Still, you were determined not to let Klaus's antics disrupt the festive mood.

"Right now?" you teased, hoping the heat creeping up your cheeks wasn't too obvious.

"Why not?" Klaus winked, taking another sip of his drink.

Elijah, ever the picture of composure, remained silent, clearly amused at the ongoing banter.

"Maybe later," you teased, a glimmer of mischief in your eyes.

"I'll hold you to it," Klaus smirked, leaning back into the couch. "Do you have any more special requests? Do you want us to fully tie you up this time?”

Rolling your eyes, you laughed, "You know, Klaus, maybe this is where I take a break and check on the cookies."

"I think they could use another taste tester," Klaus added, a playful glint in his eyes.

"I think," Elijah chimed in, a wicked smile playing on his lips, "that we all need another round of drinks.’

Grinning, you gracefully stood up and made your way to the kitchen, the enticing scent of fresh gingerbread and molasses filling the air. Both men followed suit, Elijah coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

"My darling," he whispered, his voice a seductive melody, "would you like me to get rid of my brother for the night? I'm sure he could entertain himself somehow."

You turned to face Elijah, your hand intertwining with his.

"It's alright," you said softly, pulling him closer.

Klaus smiled, his gaze meeting yours. "So, tell us what you want this time around?"

Your cheeks flushed red, a secret desire had been forming in your mind for quite a while now. The mere thought of it turned you on immensely. You had tried it once with Elijah, and it was an experience you craved to have again, but you were far too shy to voice that desire to Klaus.

"I... want," you whispered, biting your lip nervously. The air crackled with anticipation as you mustered the courage to express your hidden fantasies.

Elijah caressed your cheek, sensing your nervousness. "You want what, my love?"

"I want…," you paused, feeling a rush of heat spreading throughout your body. "For you both to be in complete control," you whispered, your gaze shifting between both men, gauging their reactions.

"Is that so?" Klaus mused, his eyes darkening with lust.

"Yes," you murmured, a wave of desire crashing through your body.

Elijah smiled, his voice a sensual purr. "What is your safe word, my love?"

You looked at him, a shy smile playing on your lips. "It's still the same."

"Good," Elijah whispered, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

"Well, well," Klaus murmured, his voice low. "Have you tried this with Elijah before?"

"Yes, we have," Elijah answered for you, his eyes gleaming with a dark intensity. "And it's an exquisite sight."

You blushed, remembering the intense pleasure of submitting to Elijah's will. It was unlike anything you had experienced before, and it filled you with a rush of anticipation.

Both of them moved closer, pinning you against the kitchen counter. Elijah pressed his body against your side as he planted kisses on your neck, while Klaus approached from the front, pressing a hand into your lower abdomen, locking eyes with you.

"When shall we start, love?" Klaus inquired, his lips mere inches from yours.

Your breath caught, a soft moan escaping as Klaus lowered his hand between your legs and began a slow, tantalizing rub through your pants. Elijah's breath, hot against your ear, intensified as his hands traveled up to caress your breasts through your shirt.

"Wait," you whispered, hands clutching the counter. "Not tonight," you gasped, a mix of embarrassment and arousal.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Klaus asked, mischief in his eyes, but a note of genuine concern in his voice.

"Tomorrow," you whispered, attempting to gather your thoughts. "After the party," you continued, your voice hoarse.

"Perhaps during the party," Elijah suggested, you could feel him smile against your skin.

Your cheeks flushed as you tried to calm your wildly beating heart. "But what if someone hears us?" You stammered.

"Oh, don't worry," Klaus chuckled, nipping at your ear. "We'll make sure everyone hears how good we're going to fuck you.”

A thrilling wave of pleasure ran through your body at his words. Klaus possessed a certain charm that always left you yearning for more, and you could already feel your resolve crumbling.

Elijah's lips left a trail of soft kisses along your jawline, his fingers tracing teasing patterns on your waist. "Tomorrow it is, then," he murmured, his voice sending vibrations through your skin.

Klaus withdrew his hand, but the intensity in his eyes lingered. "We'll be counting the minutes until then," he said, a wicked smile playing on his lips.

You took a deep breath, attempting to regain control of your senses. "I need to finish those cookies," you stammered, your cheeks still flushed.

"By all means, love, we wouldn't want to keep you from your baking," Klaus quipped, leaning in and kissing your cheek.

As they reluctantly released you, you couldn't deny the anticipation building within. The promise of tomorrow hung in the air, and with playful smiles, Klaus and Elijah retreated, leaving you with the lingering heat of their touch and the scent of fresh cookies filling the kitchen.

Hand in hand with Elijah, you descended to the grand Christmas party hosted in the compound. The opulent halls were adorned with twinkling lights, and the scent of fresh pine mingled with holiday treats. Guests in elegant attire filled the space, laughter and music creating an enchanting atmosphere.

The grand Christmas tree, adorned with ornaments and sparkling lights, stood tall in the center of the room. Rich, jewel-toned colors reflected in the polished marble floors as guests mingled, exchanging gifts and raising their glasses in celebration.

The sounds of a live orchestra filled the air, playing festive melodies that added to the magical ambiance. Klaus, with his signature charm, welcomed guests with a charismatic smile, and Rebekah dazzled in a breathtaking gown.

Tables adorned with fine china and crystal glasses showcased a feast fit for royalty. A mix of traditional Christmas dishes and exotic delicacies delighted the senses, and expertly crafted cocktails flowed freely.

As Elijah led you through the crowd, you couldn't help but be swept away by the festive spirit. The warmth of the atmosphere, the twinkle of fairy lights, and the joyous laughter of friends and family created an enchanting backdrop for the evening.

Elijah pulled you onto the dance floor, gently swaying you around. Your heart fluttered as you looked into his dark eyes, a soft smile forming on his face.

He leaned in and whispered in your ear, “You are so beautiful,” as he pulled you closer.

Your cheeks flushed, he still gave you butterflies. As the tempo picked up, he spun you around and pulled you close again, your bodies moving in sync. He leaned in and brushed a kiss to your temple, his lips curving into a smile. You felt warm and content in his arms, reveling in the festive atmosphere and intimacy of the moment.

"I must tend to some business, my dear," Elijah whispered. "I won't be long, though." His kiss was sweet, but there was a fire in his eyes, he wanted more, you just had to be patient. You could see the promise, knowing it was coming soon.

You made your way to the dessert table, feeling a bit self-conscious about the panettone you contributed, worrying that it was over-baked. Your thoughts were cut short when a man approached, you recognized him as one of Marcel's nightwalkers.

“I’m not really a dessert person, but you look absolutely delicious,” he said, standing far too close to you.

You shifted uncomfortably, trying to keep your distance. You suspected this man was quite drunk. His breath reeked of cheap booze, and his clothes were disheveled. "Excuse me," you said, trying to brush past him.

"Oh, come on now," he slurred, grabbing your arm. "Don't be so cold."

You attempted to pull away, but his grip was like iron. "Let go of me," you demanded, anger flashing in your eyes.

Before you could react, the man was knocked backward, the breath being driven from his lungs in one powerful blow.

Klaus stood over him, a cheerful smile on his face. "You were being rather aggressive, mate,"

The man stared up at Klaus, stunned. After a moment, he staggered to his feet and mumbled a half-hearted apology before slinking away.

"Are you alright, love?" Klaus asked, his gaze full of concern.

You smiled, feeling grateful for his interference. "I’m fine, thank you, Klaus, I appreciate the help."

"Always," he responded, flashing you a charming smile. He looked around the room, then took your hand, leading you to a quiet corridor.

"Where are we going?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I just want a moment alone with you," he said. As soon as you were out of sight, he pressed you up against the wall, his hands gripping your waist. He leaned in, his lips hovering inches from your own.

"Now who's being the aggressive one,” you teased, your hands pressed into his chest.

"I can't help myself, love. You're the most gorgeous woman in the room," he whispered, his voice laced with seduction.

"Nik, don't. What about Elijah," you protested, trying to ignore your rapidly beating heart.

“He left you all alone," Klaus smirked, his lips ghosting over yours. "If my brother can't appreciate the beauty standing before him, I will gladly take his place."

"You can't say that," you responded, attempting to push him away.

"But, love," Klaus drawled, his lips pressing a teasing kiss against your neck. "I already know how wet you are for me," he whispered, his hand roaming up your thigh.

You gasped, feeling his hand moving closer to your core. "Klaus, we can't," you pleaded.

"Just tell me to stop and I will," he whispered, his fingers brushing against your panties.

You moaned, the feeling of him teasing you, the risk of being caught, only heightening the pleasure.

"I've been wanting to do this all day," Klaus murmured, his voice dripping with lust.

You gasped, biting your lip to keep from moaning.

Klaus smirked, his finger rubbing slow circles against your clit. "Do you ever think about me when he fucks you?”

Your head was swimming with pleasure, and you could barely form a coherent thought. "No," you moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders.

"I don't believe you," Klaus whispered, his lips finding yours. He kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. His fingers moved faster, sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body.

The sounds of the party grew distant, your senses focused solely on the feeling of his touch. His fingers dipped lower, pushing past your panties, sinking into your pussy.

"Nik," you cried, burying your face into his shoulder, trying to muffle the moans escaping your lips.

He pushed two fingers inside, slowly thrusting in and out. Your hips bucked, the pressure building. He added another finger and one of your hands fisted into his shirt, the other digging into his back.

"Yes, Nik," you whimpered, a white-hot explosion of ecstasy ripping through you. You trembled as you clenched around his fingers.

Klaus continued his movements, prolonging the pleasure, until you couldn't take it anymore. You weakly pushed him away, your breath ragged.

He pulled out, bringing his fingers to his lips. He licked them clean, his eyes never leaving yours. "So fucking delicious," he purred, a smug smile playing on his lips.

The reality of what just happened hit you, and you quickly straightened your clothes. You couldn't believe what just transpired.

He leaned in and kissed you again, it was surprisingly gentle and loving, as if he was savoring the taste.

"If you were mine I would never share you," he murmured against your lips.

"Nik," you breathed, a warning.

"But you're not, so I must take what I can get," Klaus smirked.

You smoothed your hair, attempting to regain your composure. You tried to hide the fact that his words affected you.

Klaus chuckled, pulling away. He glanced down at his watch, his smile widening. "It's time, love. Shall we go find my brother?”

"I'm right here," his voice sounded behind you.

Elijah stood in the corridor, a glass of bourbon in his hand. His eyes were dark, his jaw set.

"How long have you been there," Klaus asked, his tone casual.

"Long enough," Elijah responded, his eyes fixed on you. "Are you alright?"

You nodded, your cheeks flushing.

Klaus grinned, "No harm was done."

"On the contrary," Elijah growled. "You know the rules, Niklaus. You are not to touch her without my permission."

"Oh, come now, brother," Klaus chuckled, his tone mocking. "You let me taste her when it's the three of us," he challenged.

"This is different and you know it," Elijah responded, his fist clenched.

"Is it?," Klaus questioned, stepping closer. "Perhaps you should have paid more attention to your love, rather than entertaining the guests."

"I was making sure the room was ready for tonight," he countered, his tone ice.

"My dear brother, so committed to making sure everything is perfect for her," Klaus replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Elijah's eyes narrowed. "You are dangerously close to crossing a line, Niklaus," he warned.

Elijah took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm. Klaus chuckled, enjoying getting under his brother's skin.

"She clearly gets something from me that she doesn't get from you," Klaus remarked, his gaze challenging.

You looked back and forth between the two of them, a mixture of anxiety and anticipation swirling in your stomach. The tension between the brothers was palpable.

"Stop," you interjected, placing a hand on each of their chests, trying to calm them.

Elijah couldn't help but think back to all the nights he spent in bed with you, making love, whispering sweet words in your ear, but also, the times Klaus joined you. Klaus would push you to the edge, make you scream and beg, while Elijah would always take care of you after. Klaus was a lot rougher than him, and perhaps that's what you craved. A spark of anger ignited inside Elijah, and before he could stop himself, his fist connected with Klaus' jaw.

Klaus' head jerked backward, but his smirk never faltered. He leaned forward, spitting out blood. "That's more like it, brother," he taunted, the mischievous glint in his eyes intensified. "That's the kind of man she wants," he said, goading Elijah.

You knew this was about more than Klaus simply getting handsy, but instead the truth of his feelings for you. A truth you avoided addressing, you loved Elijah, but you couldn't deny the pleasure of your shared encounters with both of them. Unfortunately, Klaus had grown quite attached to you and, at times, very possessive, often lashing out and making attempts to sabotage your relationship with Elijah. Tonight's display seemed like yet another attempt.

Your relationship had changed after the first time all three of you were intimate together. It made things unnecessarily complicated, it became apparent that jealousy and feelings were a factor now. A realization neither of them seemed to understand or deal with, making things, all in all, messy and confusing.

Your head was spinning, you didn't know which emotion was greater, arousal, shame, guilt, or fear. "I thought we had an understanding, Nik," you muttered, choosing your words carefully, your cheeks flushed and stomach churning.

"Oh, come on, love," he smirked, knowing he was on thin ice.

"Enough, Nik," you said firmly, glaring at him. "When we started this, we had clear rules. You broke them," you chastised, then turned to Elijah, your expression softening.

"I love you, only you, Elijah," you whispered, standing on your toes, pulling him closer. You kissed him, a slow and sensual kiss, meant to comfort and reassure him.

He smiled gently, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. He glanced back at his brother, his jaw clenched. You touched his cheek, bringing his focus back to you. "We don't have to include him, if you don't want to," you whispered.

Elijah's expression softened, hearing the love and concern in your voice. "I just want to see you happy," he murmured, kissing your forehead.

"You make me happy," you smiled, kissing him again.

Klaus stood, observing the intimate scene, trying his best to mask his jealousy and pain. You were everything he wanted, and more, and yet, you belonged to his brother.

"Come," Elijah murmured, taking your hand.

"Where are we going," you asked.

"A special spot I’ve prepared for you," Elijah smiled, squeezing your hand.

Klaus trailed behind you, trying to hide his emotions, the last thing he needed was to have his brother witness his heartbreak.

Elijah led you through the halls, the party growing distant. He pushed open a pair of double doors, revealing a magnificent sight. The entire room was decorated like a winter wonderland. Fairy lights draped along the ceiling, casting a soft glow throughout the space. A cozy fire burned in the stone fireplace, the heat warming your body. Thick, fluffy blankets covered the sofas and bed, and plates of desserts adorned the coffee table.

You wandered through the room, taking in the luxurious details. The walls were covered with towering shelves filled with books, and the vast windows offered an enchanting view of the night sky. The air was fragranced with cinnamon and pine, the holiday decorations adding to the festive ambiance.

Soft music played, creating an intimate atmosphere. You smiled, feeling the tension and excitement building within you.

"You are a master of romance, Elijah," Klaus commented, his voice breaking the silence.

"Only for her," he answered, a twinkle in his eye.

Elijah leaned down, capturing your lips with a passionate kiss. "This is amazing," you breathed against his lips.The spark slowly turning into a fire as his hands roamed your body.

Elijah started undressing you, kissing every exposed area of skin. You could feel his breath hot against your body, a rush of desire washing over you. He was slow and deliberate, seemingly wanting to savor the moment.

You pulled at his clothes, wanting to feel his bare skin against yours. You unbuttoned his shirt, sliding it down his arms. You traced the lines of his chest, enjoying the way his muscles flexed under your touch.

You turned and reached out to Klaus, beckoning him closer, he approached and pressed his lips against yours. His kiss was insistent and passionate, conveying all the desire he's been holding back. Your fingers dipped under the hem of his shirt, sliding it up his toned chest. You parted only to pull it over his head, then he continued kissing you, barely allowing your lips to leave his.

Elijah tugged on your chin, demanding your lips back to his. His kiss was deep and intense, his tongue sliding along yours. Both of them undressed you further, hands and mouths devouring you. You couldn't focus, could barely breathe as they took complete control.

Soon you were completely naked, pressed between them, Elijah was behind you, sucking and nipping at your neck and Klaus in front of you, kissing down the valley of your breasts. Your core pulses in the need of attention and you push back into Elijah grinding and rolling your hips against him.

Elijah softly ran his hands down your arms before grabbing your wrists and securing them behind your back. He took both of them in his strong, firm hold, no longer free to touch either of them. Instead, they're free to touch and pleasure you however they see fit. They share a quick glance between themselves, each grinning deviously.

Klaus kept working his way down your body, until he got down on his knees, your thighs at the same level with his head. His eyes caught with yours and a sly grin spread across his lips before his gaze went to your pussy. He began planting soft kisses along the top of each leg, his tongue drawing patterns as he went. You tried to bite back the moan that is about to escape from your lips, knowing he's getting the most enjoyment out of this teasing he's performing. You watched with both pleasure and anticipation, as the sight of him nearly getting close to your aching cunt and stopping in his tracks just to torture you some more. Your head instinctively rolled back onto Elijah's shoulder, biting your lip as your eyes shut, doing everything in your power to hold back your moans.

"You're just dying for it, aren't you love," Klaus murmured, nipping at your inner thigh.

"You're no better," you teased.

Elijah growled, restraining your wrists in one hand, forcing your head up. "Careful," he warned, his free hand coming to rest around your throat, squeezing slightly. "Watch your tone,"

You moaned, despite his warning.

He raised his brow, a hint of surprise flashed on his face, pleased to hear you being so turned on by him handling you in a way he normally wouldn't.

He nuzzled into the crook of your neck and whispered against it, "If you want to play those games, I can be just as rough." He emphasized his point by tightening his hand around your neck, pressing against your windpipe, cutting off your air.

"Now, spread your legs wider."

The way he was using you only fueled your fire. The more demanding, rougher, and meaner he was, the wetter you became. You obeyed his orders, it was the only thing you could do anyway.

Klaus finally obliged, his mouth hovered a mere inch from your pussy. The stubble on his cheeks tickling your soft and sensitive skin as his tongue came out. He dragged it, almost painfully slow over your clit and back down, dipping inside you before repeating the motions once more. Your hips involuntarily moved with his tongue and you heard a faint chuckle rumble from Elijah's chest as he pinned you against him.

The faint sound of a moan escaped you as Klaus continued his exploration, and that's when he lost all his restraint. He yanked your leg over his shoulder and drove his tongue deep inside you, devouring and fucking you with it. Your breath grew even shallower and a deeper, throatier moan was pulled from you. The men groaned simultaneously at your response, loving how they affected you. Your hands opened and closed and twisted and clenched behind your back in a failed attempt to regain control. You couldn't stop yourself from writhing and wriggling in the grasps of both men, feeling as though your bones had melted and your legs had gone weak.

Both sets of strong and muscular arms were the only things holding you up at this point. It felt so overwhelming, to be trapped between them like this. You didn't have anywhere to go or any chance to escape the intense pleasures they were giving you.

While your legs weakened, your core tightened, and that tell tale feeling washed over you, warm and fuzzy, creeping up your limbs, creeping along your stomach and soon you could feel that ball forming, needing something, a push to make it snap. As you were just about to break, you were overcome with disappointment.

"Nik," You whined, trying to protest against the denial of your impending orgasm. But he had removed himself completely from you. Elijah had you securely in his hold but Klaus had backed away, just watching you closely, a cocky smirk playing on his lips.

Elijah yanked on your neck, pulling your head to the side so you would look at him. "Behave," he commanded, and a grin crept on his lips and you shuddered. The firm tone he used with you was almost enough to get you to cum on the spot and both men saw how desperate and helpless you've become.

"I love seeing you like this," Elijah murmured, his lips close to your ears, he dipped his head and nipped at your neck. Your hips bucked at the touch, causing him to laugh lightly. You could feel him smile against the nape of your neck, kissing up to the tip of your ear. You gasped slightly and he grinned wider. He pulled you roughly towards the bed, throwing you down, you bounced slightly from the impact and landed on your back. Elijah watched you in complete admiration. Your hair fanned around the pillows, your cheeks flushed, your chest rapidly rising and falling.

Your lips parted as you tried to steady your breathing, your eyes growing wide. You gulped, swallowing nervously as a dark smile spread across Elijah's face. You loved seeing this side of him and you always begged him to show it more often. He bent down to kiss your calves, slowly making his way up. He kissed every bit of skin, squeezing and massaging your body along the way.

Klaus moved to the other side of the bed above your head, leaning over you, he was peppering your neck with kisses. Occasionally leaving tiny nips or gentle tugs on your skin. Klaus cupped your cheek with one hand and his eyes locked with yours as his finger grazed your bottom lip. He then slowly pushed two fingers past your lips.

"Taste yourself, love," Klaus grinned, wiggling his digits in your mouth. You did as he wished, sucking on his fingers, tasting yourself. Klaus smirked, pulling back. Your head lolled back and Klaus kneeled next to your head, his already hard member was mere inches from your mouth and his cock pulsed. He grasped it firmly, slowly stroking its length up and down a few times, before lining it up to your lips.

You looked up at him with the most innocent expression you could muster as you parted your lips a little wider, allowing him to push himself into your mouth. Your eyes remain locked with his as you swirl your tongue around the tip, slowly taking him further into your throat.

You let out a muffled moan as you felt Elijah parting your legs and pressed his tongue to your entrance, the tip slipping just the slightest bit into you, teasing you. You moved your hands to grip his hair, but Klaus grabbed your wrists and pinned them next to your head, denying you any control. Your back arched and a light, desperate, needy whimper fell from your lips as you longed to just be completely filled and fucked by them both at the same time.

Elijah spread your legs further apart, relishing your taste and the way you trembled with every touch. His movements grew harder, deeper and stronger. His hands holding your hips firmly as his tongue drove in and out of you, making you arch your back and your eyes roll to the back of your head,

You took Klaus's full length into your throat and held him there for a moment. Your actions were rewarded when he moaned deeply, smiling down at you. Elijah moved his tongue away, replacing it with one single finger. Slowly teasing and moving in circles before sliding it all the way inside your already soaking pussy. You started bucking your hips, the pace growing quicker.

Elijah suddenly sank his fangs into your inner thigh. You let out an agonizing scream and your back arched up off the bed as a warm wave of pain and pleasure hit you. You felt yourself clamp down around his finger as he continued fucking you with it. He drank greedily from the small holes he made, sucking hard on your sensitive flesh, the intensity becoming too much to bear. You shook uncontrollably as he used his thumb to circle your clit, Klaus still holding tightly to your arms and thrusting deeply into your throat.

Klaus grins watching you as a loud moan fills his ears, vibrating against his dick. You're struggling to concentrate, unable to form words to protest or demand. His thrusts become sloppier and less controlled. Sloppy noises getting louder and he moves his other hand to stroke his fingers through your hair. You moan loudly once more and he lets go. He lets his head fall back, as his cum spills into your throat and he loses the ability to move or talk, merely riding out his release.

Elijah's mouth made its way up your body, sinking his fangs into your lower stomach, making you yelp. Then he made his way further up and bit your breasts, his fingers still pumping inside you. He continued to feed, leaving dozens of bite marks all over your body until there were hardly any places left he didn't get to mark. Tears streamed down your face and you struggled under Klaus's grip, trying to escape, and whimpered desperately for one of them to stop, the pain was starting to overwhelm your pleasure.

Elijah’s eyes were completely black, with dark gray veins snaking underneath them, accompanied by his bared fangs and blood-stained lips. His true form, on full display for you, making his beauty and his danger even more exceptional. He moved up to your face, finally giving you a chance to kiss him. You hummed into his mouth, tasting your own blood as his tongue brushed against yours, he smiled against your lips and kissed you harder.

This animalistic side of Elijah turned you on immensely. When the rare occasion arose, where you were lucky enough to get him like this, all of those barriers came crumbling down. He wasn't here to please or serve or pamper you like a goddess, tonight was about using you. He broke the kiss, leaving you a panting mess.

Your pleading expression did nothing as his mouth went to the most sensitive area of your neck, his hot breath fanning against your skin. He parted your legs with his knee and teasing your pussy with the head of his cock.

"Who does this belong to?" Elijah asked, his voice husky, you felt goosebumps rise on your flesh.

"Yours. It's yours," you whimpered.

Klaus smirked at you, clearly getting a kick out of seeing you so helpless and controlled by his brother. Klaus's hand gripped your jaw firmly as he forced you to look him in the eye. He rubbed his thumb across your lips. He could feel your jaw shake as you trembled.

"Good answer," Elijah grinned, his eyes turning black as he pushed his cock inside you and sunk his fangs into your neck. You cried out from the pure bliss and pain he inflicted on you. He was usually so gentle and romantic, but right now, he was fucking you, devouring your body. The sensations overwhelmed you, making the line between pain and pleasure blur.

The more you squirmed beneath him, the rougher he grew with you, both of his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you into his every move. The sweet slapping of his skin against yours filled the room and mingled with your cries, your ragged and frantic breathing. It wasn't enough, you still needed more, you could hardly even breathe and he kept biting, never giving you time to catch your breath, or make sense of what was going on.

Elijah slowly removed his fangs from your neck, his breathing uneven as he pounded into you, whispering your name. You could tell he was close, by the way his thrusts started to quicken, his face changing from his vampire side to his human one, a blush tinting his cheeks.

"Look at me," he said. You met his gaze and realized that despite his features being back to normal, the animal still lived just beneath his skin.

He pressed his lips to yours in a searing kiss, a hand weaving into your hair. "Come for me, my love," he whispered. His voice was gravely and it turned you on beyond belief.

Klaus still had your wrists in his grip, stopping you from moving an inch. You couldn't get away no matter how hard you tried.

Your vision was blurred and Elijah groaned against your neck, gripping your thighs so tightly it stung. He stopped and pressed his forehead to yours, his breaths uneven as you pushed your thighs against him.You squeezed his cock hard as your orgasm finally shattered, tensing up all your muscles and moaning his name. He was close behind you, burying himself deep inside you as he moaned into your mouth and filled you with his cum.

Klaus released your wrists and you immediately wrapped your arms around Elijah, holding him in a tight embrace as you slowly came down. He held onto you, smiling to himself. He kissed you tenderly, brushing the sweat-dampened hair from your forehead as his fingers caressed your flushed skin.

Elijah placed light kisses down your neck, occasionally nipping at your skin, a soft giggle escaping your lips. His eyes landed on the many bite marks on he left, his expression turned guilty and he pulled away from you. He got up from the bed and headed to the bathroom without a word.

"Elijah," you said softly, but you didn't follow, knowing he would want some space to process. He often scolded himself and grew cold whenever he got rough like this with you.

"What's wrong with him?" Klaus asked you, gesturing to the open bathroom door.

You knew what it was, but you didn't wish to tell Klaus. Your heart ached for Elijah, hating that he always beat himself up for hurting you. Even though you've told him countless times that you enjoy these rare moments when his vampiric side comes out. You love feeling the power coursing through him as he has his way with you, biting and fucking and drinking from you however he pleases.

"Nothing, leave him," you whispered, the ache in your body preventing you from wanting to leave the bed.

You looked up at Klaus, giving him a gentle smile. He pulled you into his lap and cupped your cheek, softly stroking the pad of his thumb along your jaw. He was so gentle, not his typical cocky, confident, arrogant self. You kissed him deeply, enjoying how sweet and tender he was, after the rough sex and treatment Elijah gave you, the contrast was perfect.

His hands ran over the bite marks and you winced, pulling back. He looked up, offering an apologetic smile.

"I didn't think Elijah was capable," he chuckled, trailing his eyes over you once more, imagining his marks covering you instead.

Klaus brought his face close to the most visible and recent set of fang marks and lightly flicked out his tongue, swiping across your broken flesh, soothing the stinging sensations and sealing up the bleeding. He dragged his tongue down to the one just above your breasts and repeated the actions.

You let out a soft moan from the sensation, slowly grinding your hips against him. Klaus placed a trail of kisses along your chest and neck, climbing up to your lips as you looked at him. He locked eyes with yours, his pupils blown wide with arousal. You let your fingers tangle into his hair as you pressed your lips firmly together.

"Nik," you whispered against his lips, a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, happy to hear his name, instead of Elijah's, leaving your mouth.

He began rocking his hips in time with yours, growing more and more desperate by the second. His hands ran over your curves, coming to rest on your waist. In one fluid motion, he picked you up and flipped you over so that you were on your stomach and he was hovering over you.

You let out a surprised gasp and your eyes went wide. Klaus let out a soft laugh as his fingers traced along the contours of your backside, massaging your plump skin. You glanced over your shoulder at him as he grabbed your hips and pulled you up slightly, raising you to your knees, with your ass presented towards him. He bent down and licked his way from your clit to your ass, paying equal amounts of attention to both spots, eliciting soft moans and whimpers from you.

Klaus swatted one of your cheeks playfully, then slipped a couple of fingers inside you and pumped in and out of your core while he worked a fingertip against your other hole. The sensation sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, forcing a gasp to leave your lips.

Elijah returned to the bedroom and stood quietly, leaned against the wall, admiring your beautiful form on display. He walked towards the bed and sat down in front of you. He laced his fingers gently with yours and you looked at him, giving him a reassuring smile. He loved you so much and worried too often that you weren't safe around him.

"Welcome back," Klaus chuckled, his fangs grazing over your ass cheek. You shivered and buried your face in the mattress, earning a low laugh from him. "Are you done with the self-loathing session?"

Elijah gave Klaus a stern look and shifted his focus back to you. You weren't going to allow his guilt to ruin this for either of you. You sat up and pressed your lips to his, kissing him slowly, wrapping an arm around his neck. He looked at you and his expression changed, becoming lighter.

Your lips parted and you exhaled shakily, Elijah ran his knuckles down your cheek, soothingly and you gave him a faint smile. "It's okay Elijah. You didn't hurt me," you murmured. He frowned, looking into your eyes for a long moment before leaning closer and claiming your lips in another kiss.

Klaus let out an irritated sigh and gently pushed on your lower back, signaling for you to settle back down. You parted the kiss from Elijah and did what you were asked. Elijah threaded his fingers in your hair and held you still as Klaus used the new angle to circle your asshole with his tongue, drawing a series of low, whimpering moans from your throat. Klaus chuckled, pleased with your reactions. Your grip on the sheets tightened as you gasped into the mattress. Klaus felt your wetness increase and gripped your thighs harder as his tongue started fucking in and out of you, the pleasure making you gush.

Elijah grinned in amusement and placed a hand against your throat, tilting your head back. "Enjoying yourself?" He asked, a low growl emitting from his throat.

You nodded your head, completely drunk off their attention. Klaus gave your ass a hard slap, making you yelp and tense up.

"I didn't hear you, love," Klaus quipped, pressing his lips to your stinging cheek, eliciting another moan from you.

"Yes," you practically sobbed.

Elijah hummed at your answer, leaning down to kiss your mouth. His tongue danced over yours as his hand tightened against your throat. Klaus pressed a finger against your asshole, pushing forward until the tip of his finger was inside you. You let out a gasp against Elijah's lips as Klaus plunged his finger all the way inside, causing your eyes to roll into the back of your skull. He pressed his lips to your ass cheek, gently biting it with his blunt teeth as he worked a second finger inside you.

"Do you want both of us again?" Klaus whispered, his breath hot against your skin.

"Please," you begged.

Klaus and Elijah looked at each other, a silent exchange happening between the two of them. You didn't notice their conversation, you were too focused on the aching feeling as Klaus removed his fingers. Elijah helped you to your feet, rough hands gliding over your skin as he lifted you off the bed. You stood between them, your back pressed into Elijah's chest as he held you close. Klaus placed his hands on your waist, pressing his body against yours and placing gentle kisses against your collarbone. He trailed his way up to your neck, lightly biting with his teeth. You rolled your head to the side, enjoying every ounce of attention that they gave you, his hands sliding down your body until they came to rest on the curve of your ass. Elijah nipped at your neck, grazing his fangs against you. A wave of heat flowed throughout your entire body, making your knees tremble.

"Just relax and let us do all the work," Elijah whispered, his hand gently gripping your waist.

"Okay," you breathed, and let out a soft moan.

Klaus picked you up and you immediately wrapped your legs around him. He tilted your chin up, making you look at him. His eyes were dark and predatory, flashing gold as he gazed at you, a sight that made your stomach flip. He lowered you down onto his cock and you clung to his shoulders. Hanging tightly onto him as he began to slowly thrust and you buried your face in the crook of his neck, letting out soft moans.

Elijah came up behind you, his fingers smoothing down your back. He placed light kisses to your shoulder as he placed his hand on your ass. Elijah's finger stroked down, circling your rim gently, making you tense up and clench down on Klaus's cock. Klaus groaned and hooked his arms under your thighs, holding you closer. Elijah pushed one slick digit inside, barely taking any time to let your muscles stretch and relax before working in a second.

Elijah kissed your spine, working you open carefully. You pushed yourself against his fingers, whimpering loudly at the stimulation. Elijah pushed further into your ass, knuckle deep, he smiled when he heard you moan.

"Does that feel nice, my sweet girl?" Elijah purred against your neck, biting his way up your ear.

You nodded and your heart pounded faster in response, wanting him closer, wanting more of him. Elijah pressed his lips to your shoulder as his cock nudged against you. He began pushing into you, holding your hips, and carefully guiding his way in. Your breathing became shaky as he eased into you. Klaus stilled his movements, locking eyes with you, and he leaned in to give you a comforting kiss. You let out a soft moan against his lips, your nails digging into his shoulders. It was the most delicious sensation, being pinned between their firm chests, and stuffed completely.

"You love this, don't you?" Klaus whispered as he moved you against both of them in slow strokes.

You gave a slight thrust back, begging for more, and Elijah grunted, pushing into you slowly.

"You know the answer to that," you whispered back, giving Klaus a wide smile as your eyebrows arched in pleasure.

Klaus grinned at you, his grip on you becoming a little tighter. They both held you completely still, kissing and teasing every exposed area of your neck and chest as Elijah began rocking himself back and forth, setting an excruciating rhythm, with slow, deep thrusts.

You trembled between them, feeling so full and loved. Their presence was intense, strong, all consuming. You were exactly where you wanted to be and you never wanted this night to end.

"Please... don't stop, I'm close," you panted, reaching a hand to Elijah's and gripping it. The tension coiled tighter and tighter, until it felt like you would implode from the sensation. You tensed and trembled in their arms. Their grip tightened against you in order to hold you steady. They both moved to either side of your neck, grazing their fangs along your skin.

"Please..." You begged once more. They couldn't resist.

Both their fangs pierced your flesh, almost at the same time. That final little nudge was enough to push you over the edge. They drank deeply, your blood on their lips, and your body soaring from the intense, extended high.

You let out a drawn out groan as your orgasm shook you. Klaus and Elijah didn't move an inch, focused on drinking your blood as your muscles squeezed around their cocks. They groaned into your skin, thrusting deeper and faster as your blood coursed through them.

Their thrusts turned feral, chasing after their releases, losing themselves in the bloodlust. Their bodies crashed into yours over and over and they let out deep moans against your skin.

You felt a warm rush in you as they climaxed. Elijah stilled inside you, gasping against your skin, riding out the waves of his orgasm. Klaus rocked you back and forth slightly, breathing heavily into your neck, his heart hammering wildly.

They pulled their fangs out of your neck, licking the blood away with careful movements. You were breathing heavily, coming down from your high. You couldn't stop the massive grin that spread across your face. You rested between the brothers, completely exhausted but oh so satisfied. Elijah pulled out of you, a gentle smile spreading across his lips. Klaus carried you back to the bed and laid you down, his body hovering over you, pressing against your warm skin.

You tried catching your breath, too overwhelmed by the intensity of what just happened. Elijah laid next to you, he brushed your hair away from your face and placed kisses along your jawline. Klaus moved to your other side, covering you with kisses as well. You giggled and pulled Klaus in for a long kiss, then Elijah.

"I love you," Elijah whispered, tucking your hair behind your ear and staring deep into your eyes, an intensity behind the dark pools causing the butterflies to return.

Klaus let out a quiet chuckle, dipping his face into your neck and you ran your fingers through his curls in response. Klaus shifted so he could place a kiss to the underside of your chin, slowly dragging his lips to your pulse, your heartbeat quickening the longer he lingered.

"May I have another taste," he said playfully, nipping at your skin, his tone filled with lust.

"Nik," you protested weakly, pushing on his shoulders.

Klaus smiled and pulled away, planting a soft kiss against your cheek, then scooped you up and carried you to the bathroom, gently sitting you down on the bathroom counter. He dampened a washcloth and began tending to your bite marks.

"I could give you my blood, to heal these," he said softly, a hint of vulnerability in his tone.

"Elijah will heal them for me," you answered, giving Klaus a knowing look. "I'm sorry," you added, the words coming out before you even realized you said them.

"Don't be, love," Klaus said with a shrug. He caressed your chin gently and continued swiping the cloth gently over your shoulder. Elijah made his way into the bathroom and took the cloth from Klaus.

"I would like to do the rest," Elijah said softly, he leaned in and brushed his lips gently over each puncture wound, the gesture so tender, and loving it made you ache.

Klaus walked away, lingering in the bathroom doorway to watch the intimate display between you and Elijah. A flicker of something you didn't quite understand crossed Klaus's features and he left, closing the bathroom door behind him.

Elijah began cleaning you, his touch soothing and gentle. You felt an overwhelming amount of love and devotion flowing through him.

"What's on your mind?" You asked softly, loving how focused and doting he is.

"How lucky I am," Elijah answered without missing a beat. "And how I feel I don't deserve you," he trailed off. You put a hand over his heart, feeling the firmness of his body and the steady drumming beneath.

"Don't, I wanted this, you were perfect," you insisted. Elijah met your gaze, your heart was aching at his guilty expression. He kissed you, attempting to convey his never-ending love for you.

When you pulled back, he bit his wrist and held it out. You pressed it to your lips, the copper taste flooding your senses. The profound sense of connection always made you lightheaded. The warmth spreading in you and the faint tingling of his magic working to close your wounds. Elijah pulled his wrist away, placing his hands on your knees and gave you a soft smile.

"Let's go downstairs and get some food," he whispered, helping you down off the counter. Your hunger spiked as soon as Elijah mentioned food.

Elijah held your hand as you made your way downstairs, the sound of laughter and conversation filling the air, the Christmas party still in full swing. You joined the family in the living room, sitting beside him on the couch, his arm around you, pulling you closer. The guests were lively and cheerful, sharing stories and enjoying each other's company. You looked around the room, taking in the festive decorations and the warmth of the atmosphere. It was nice, being a part of something like this.

Klaus appeared, a glass of wine in his hand, his gaze meeting yours. You felt a pang of guilt, you knew he had fallen for you, you hadn't meant to hurt him. You loved Elijah, and you never wanted anyone else.

He sat down next to you and Elijah, giving you a smile. "I may have lied about not getting you a present," he said, handing you a small box.

"Nik," you began, "you shouldn't have." Elijah kissed your temple, prompting you to open the box.

You opened the box and found a necklace with a small silver pendant, the Mikaelson crest engraved in the metal.

Elijah took the necklace from the box, fastening it around your neck. You ran your fingers along the pendant, a smile on your lips.

"Thank you, Nik," you said, a look of gratitude on your face.

"Anytime, love," Klaus replied.

You wrapped your arms around him, hugging him. He returned the gesture, holding you tightly, placing a soft kiss to the side of your head.

You sat together on the couch, talking and laughing with the others, the weight of the guilt lifting from your shoulders. Elijah kissed your cheek, his eyes full of love and affection.

"Merry Christmas, my love," he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin.

You smiled, "Merry Christmas, Elijah,"

Your heart was filled with happiness as you spent the evening surrounded by those you loved, enjoying the extraordinary holiday.

{Part One} {Part Two}

Thank you for reading my Extraordinary series!! This is the final ménage à trois I'll be doing with Klaus & Elijah... I feel like I covered all the bases hehe.

But a ménage à trois with Elijah and Kol????? Well... that sounds pretty exceptional...

PS: HAPPY HOLIDAYS ♡♡

319 notes · View notes

sassylegshayne · 1 year

Text

marry me, idiot.

AH ITS HERE!!!! I will say, like I've been saying, I'm still in the really early stages of this fic. like this has been edited twice where as every chapter of sylcd is done three times over so. I really have no clue when the next chapter will be out as I haven't finished it yet; might be during sylcd's final chapters or it might be after. 3.2k words let me know what you guys think!! enjoy mwah xx

series masterlist

"Okay, we have a slight issue." You heard the voice beside you clear as day despite the headphones that sat over your ears.

"Is the issue something you caused for us?" You turned to your best friend with a brow quirked.

"That's extremely rude but very true, yes." Spencer nodded as he took a sip from his cup, spinning his chair to face you. Spence and you had been close for a while, you joining the crew only a few months after Spence had, the two of you spending countless hours editing beside each other. The two of you grew close after a couple of longer projects. The two of you leaning on each other for advice and well needed breaks from time to time.

It has become a joke around the office about Spencer being your work husband; he had a knack for picking you up an drink on his way in, or grabbing lunch for the both of you, or Spencer's ability to pause anything he was working on at the snap of a finger for you. He was pretty much head over heels for you, and you were the only one blind enough to not see it. It's funny to think that you felt the same exact way, and everyone but Spencer could tell.

"So, remember when we started here and we became friends and we made that joke about when we turned thirty."

You stared blankly back at your best friend, the joke about marrying if you're both still single by thirty a distant memory in your mind by this point. It crossed your mind once recently. Last year, you spent your entire 'Dirty Thirty' party that the office threw for you clinging to Spencer.

You made a habit of keeping him alongside you for every big moment of your life since you'd met. You wanted to look back on these moments, that were destined to be great already, to include Spencer.

"Okay, so you do remember, that's great." Spencer clapped his hands together as he grinned at you.

"I saw a TikTok about the wedding gifts you get from inviting companies and rich people, even if you don't know them and I want in!" Spence argued, wiping his sweaty palms off on his pants as he worked his way towards the problem with this rambling explanation.

"I think it's unfair that just because two people are getting married they get to have all that stuff. With all my info had, I made some quick wedding invitations and sent some out, fully expecting PR packages to come back." He trailed off as

"Charles Spencer," You quietly chastised, wanting to not believe a word he was saying, but knowing deep down that Spencer was being truthful. "You are insane, I can't believe you did that!"

"T'm sorry, okay. Listen, Y/N, I thought it was gonna be a funny joke to give you a bunch of fake wedding gifts for our fake wedding on your real birthday! I didn't expect people to accept, but I know that is my fault for inviting some people that actually agreed."

"Charles," You started, using his legal name yet again. He wasn't usually worried about you using it, it wasn't some secret he was keeping it anything, but the tone in your voice told him that you weren't happy at all. "Who all accepted?"

"I'm sorry, I know I'm never gonna say that enough, but it was only a few people!" Spencer knew his voice was just getting higher and higher the more you two spoke, his anxiety spiking.

"Yes, okay, Rhett and Link accepted," A gasp left you as Spencer cringed, knowing his mistake. "Kathy Bates politely declined but sent an autographed headshot!" He removed the framed photo from his backpack before setting it beside your monitor.

He grinned worriedly, gesturing towards it as you let your forehead meet the desk, groaning.

"Besides the people that own the company we work for, who else said yes?" You asked through gritted teeth as Spencer looked to his phone, finding the note that held his list.

"Rapid fire, Tana Mongeau, Carrot Top, and Rob Schneider. It's not that many people, Y/N, we can just call it off." Spencer placed his hand on your back, rubbing softly as you groaned again, completely shocked by just how royally fucked this whole thing was gonna turn out to be no matter what you did.

"I'm so, so sorry, Y/N but. will you marry me?"

"emergency meeting at my desk in ten please need advice bc Spencer's an idiot"

"That's was very rude and I am plenty offended." Spencer quipped, setting his phone down on his desk after reading the group chat message you'd sent out. You shot him a glare, all argued out for the day after spending the last hour trying to convince Spence to let you tell your friends, hoping they'd help you figure out the story you'd make up in place of a wedding.

He finally caved, feeling terrible about the mess he had drug you into, allowing you to explore different ways out of this mess. In no time, Courtney, Damien and Shayne accompanied the two of you at your desks, various stolen chairs offering comfort to your friends.

"What did Spencer do now?" Damien asked, causing Spence to scoff and shake his head.

"I'm starting to get upset that everyone just assumes that I really fucked something up this bad." He defended himself as he leaned back in his chair, practically able to hear your eyes rolling.

"You did, though. You lied to people and now we're getting married." You stayed simply, eyes wide as you began to argue with your future better half yet again.

"You're already my work wife, we're pretty much married." You rolled your eyes once as Spencer countered you, reaching his hand towards your mug of coffee, being stopped as you lightly slapped at him.

"l'm sorry, I don't know if l'm missing something and everyone else is up to speed but, uh, when did y'all get together long enough to lead to getting married?" Shayne questioned, pulling your attention from Spencer as you took in the looks from those around you.

Damien's face held a mix of confusion and excitement, Courtney was rendered speechless and it seems like Shayne was using every last braincell he had to piece together this puzzle.

"Okay, phew, wow, that is what this meeting is about, honey." Spencer cooed as he grinned goofily at you, wrapping your left hand in his as he held your palm to his chest.

You tried your best to hid the smile that so desperately wanted to grace your lips, taking a deep breath as you closed your eyes, the feeling of a migraine quickly approaching.

You took your time explaining through the story, Spencer chiming in when needed but mostly stuck to nodding along as you spoke.

"Spencer," Damien pointed his index finger at the shorter man, both with brows raised at each other. "You're an idiot, my guy. Why did Rhett and Link seem like a good idea? Why did any of this seem like a good idea, but especially our bosses."

You sighed, resting your head in the palm of your hand as you awoke your monitor. You sat up as an email sat at the top of your inbox labeled important.

"Congratulations to Y/N and Spencer!"

You couldn't tell how long you spent staring at the desktop, the company wide email from the Mythical Management staring directly back. The noise of your friends chatter drown out as the words in the letter repeated over and over in your mind.

You had to go through with this, or you had to hide behind the arrangement and a shitty excuse of a prank. No other options popped into your head.

"Y/N? You okay?" A warm, familiar hand rested on your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze.

Spencer's eyes worriedly searched your face as his brow furrowed at your slumped frame. His gaze followed you, his heart sinking as he Scanned over the email.

"I'm so fucking sorry, Y/N..." He trailed off, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back once more.

The other three moved, all looking over your shoulders to read the message. Gasps and murmurs broke out between them as they say back down.

Your small group sat in silence for a moment. You thought you'd have more time to find a solution, a couple of days at least, but now you couldn't leave this room without some semblance of a plan.

"Let's get married." You still sat with a blank stare at the computer, your mind running a million miles a minute. You slowy explained your thoughts as thoroughly as you could.

Spencer and you were known as each other work spouses, even fans making memes about it. The two of you have talked about the agreement in the podcast, on an episode of Board AF, and in an upcoming reddit video with Shayne.

The fans always reacted well when the two of you were together, engaging with the content. There's countless edits of the two of you, even with the small amounts of videos you've been in together.

You can blame it on the arrangement you'd made, pull lan and a few of the other higher ups aside, presenting the idea.

Spencer and you would get married; you could make the content last up until next April, as planning a fake wedding would take some time anyways. That would mean an announcement video, probably a celebratory video with others in cast, even the process of picking out different parts of the wedding for Pit videos if they really wanted to milk it. Maybe even a TNTL gauntlet with your bridesmaids and groomsmen.

The one thing you wanted to thank Spencer for was the convenience of sharing one braincell. You could release the wedding video, the big finale in which the joke is revealed to the audience, playing it up as a fake relationship until April 1st. Spencer had thought it was funny to put the wedding date on the invitations as April Fool's Day, but it worked perfectly.

You took a deep breath, nodding your head as your eyes darted around your friends, anxious for their thoughts.

Spencer quickly wrapped his arms around your shoulders, kissing your forehead before he grinned at you.

"You are a fucking genius, lan's gonna love this idea. We can say we were prepping for the video, getting our invitation letters together accidentally sent it out. We can use whatever stuff we get as presents for the bogus invites for another video, too." Spencer added, looking to his friends as he chewed on his lip.

"I hate how quickly the two of you worked this out. We weren't needed." Shayne laughed softly, shrugging his shoulders.

"So it's not a stupid plan?" You asked, quickly distracted as the office door opens, lan's head peaking inside.

You lock eyes, offering him an awkward smile. He entered, coughing softly as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Hey, uhm, can I talk to you guys in a little bit? Probably like twenty minutes, in the conference room." lan spoke, a tight lipped smile on his face as he looked between you and the man seated beside you.

You felt a pit in your stomach growing rapidly as you swallowed, nodding your head. This was horrific, it felt like you had disappointed your dad but he wouldn't admit it yet.

And the conferernce room? There was no doubt in your mind that if this wasn't happening in lan's office then it would be bigger than you expected. Lisa would have to be there, maybe Daniel, if they were that concerned; Rachel would probably be forced into it, no matter how much she wouldn't want to be involved. n nodded before promptly exiting, barely acknowledging the cast members.

You groaned loudly as the door shut, Spencer copying you.

"This sucks and I hate you." You shoved at his shoulder, huffing.

He rubbed his arm, pouting a bit.

"It does and I hate me too." He chuckled as a smile appeared on your soft lips.

Spencer felt like the boundaries between the two of you were figured out very early on, never set prematurely, always discovered naturally. Kissing your cheek was okay, forehead was okay, drunkenly kissing your neck was okay sometimes. Hand holding was very normal and platonic and something you two did constantly. Cuddling and spending the night together was normal, but you two wouldn't sleep in the same bed.

He knew that, so far, this system had worked If that didn't happen soon, things might get nuddy, feelings getting involved. Spencer knew his feelings on you, he had since about two years into your friendship.

For six years now, he's known just how much he cares about you with every fiber of his being. He knows he really would do anything for you, anything to be with you. He respected every boundary you set.

Spencer had a thing for constantly taking advantage of the things he could have. You were always greeted with some sort of kiss, never once on the lips. Your fingers laced well with his, especially when you were on his left side. He constantly sat close beside you, tossing an arm around your shoulders, resting a hand on your knee, giving your thigh a gentle joy in excitement.

Spencer yearned for you for so long that he'd learned to accept it. He didn't want to cut you out of his life to get over his feelings, he cared too much about you, so his only option was to accept his feelings and keep close to you. You two were best friends, where one was, the other wasn't far behind. You loved him, so fucking much you loved him. He knew this, but he also knew that you didn't love him in the way he wanted you to.

Your group is quick to disband, giving the two of you some space before your meeting. Spencer let the two of you sit in silence before he decided to pack his bag for the day, despite it barely even starting. He could feel your eyes on him, his back to you.

"Packing because figure they're gonna send us home today, no matter what they decide. Give them time to think it all over." You smiled, enjoying just how well he knew you. His words settled in, prompting you to follow suit.

As you zipped your bag shut, it hit you that in just a few minutes before you were supposed to face the consequences of your best friends well intended actions. It was a toss up over which of you was more nervous, the both of you with pounding hearts.

"I love you, dude." You mumbled as you wrapped your arms around Spencer's waist, sighing softly.

"I love you, too, dude." He chuckled, rubbing your back as he kissed your forehead.

"C'mon, champ, let's go knock 'em dead." Spencer winked as he held the door open for you. You took a deep breath before leaving you little editing room bubble.

The room was much, much more packed than either of you had expected it to be. The people you expected to be there were indeed, but alongside them sat Kiana, Selina, and Lizzy.

Spencer thanked his lucky stars when neither Rhett nor Link joined the lot of you. He found himself sitting back a bit, allowing you to take the reigns of explaining your bullshit reasoning for the situation you'd found yourselves in.

Three hours, three scarily long hours later and you finally stood from your chair, your feet tingling and your head pounding. Spencer and you said your polite goodbyes to everyone before heading back toward your office.

"I think that was fine." You stated, arms crossed as you stare down the hall ahead.

He chuckled, nudging his shoulder into yours.

"That went really well, you heard Daniel. It's gotta go through if he liked it that much. It's gonna work out."

You nodded your head, a smile tugging on your lips as you both grabbed your bags.

"Wanna hangout or, uh, give me a ride home? Shayne drove me this morning." Spencer smiled heepishly as he followed you into the parking lot.

"If I'm your fiancee now, I think you should tell me if there's something going on between the two of you." You poked as you both got into your car.

You scooted your chair away from your desktop as you rubbed your eyes, now realizing just how long you'd been sat starting at your screen playing Minecraft with Spencer.

You smiled softly, feeling a tug at your heart at the sight before you. He sat slumped into your couch, eyes focused and brow furrowed as you cat napped on top of the cushion behind him.

Craig and Spencer had a love hate relationship, both of them usually eager for your attention at the same time, causing them to butt heads. Your cat and your best friend were both horribly stubborn.

But then there'd be moments like this, or when Craig curls up with Spencer on your couch, or when he follows Spence through your own house, even if you're still right where your kitty left you.

You stretch, taking off your headphones as you rise and stretch, catching Spence glancing over at you, smiling softly.

"Oh shit, you're still here?" You questioned as you walked past the couch, heading into your kitchen, yawning softly. You check your watch, catching it at just past five in the afternoon.

Spencer chuckled, watching as his eyes followed your every move as you danced around your small kitchen, seemingly opening every cabinet to find what you needed.

"Check your email, Charmander." You mindlessly called out to him, the nickname leaving him to roll his eyes as he dug into his pocket.

"You are the absolute worst with nicknames, need you to know that. Just call me Charles at this point." He laughed as you flipped him off as you turn, spoon in your mouth.

You join him on your couch with two peanut butter and banana sandwiches on one plate, sitting it on the space between you. Spencer nods a thanks to you as he grabbed his, taping your sandwiches together as a toast.

He loads into his email, refreshing it as you take your first bite. His wide eyes cause you a bit of stress, making you sit up straight.

"Good or bad?"

"Uh, good, I think. My schedule got changed." Spencer quickly switched over to his calendar, it had to be good; they don't just switch the schedule halfway through the month.

His eyes scanned over the new or changed parts, reading the first one he saw.

'Engagement Shoot' scheduled for tomorrow at 10AM.

"We did it, Joe." Spencer turns to you with a grin, quickly pulling you into a tight hug. You groaned and rolled your eyes, before quickly squealing as you wrapped your arms around him, bouncing in your seat.

They got what they wanted, right?

403 notes · View notes

puppiesandnightlock · 5 days

Text

LINK: Last Friday Night

Cowritten with the lovely @livingtobethevillain, who's idea set us off on this road ;-;

Summary: Damian wasn’t one to go out of his way to cause scandals or to give the masses something to gossip over. He tried to distance himself from his family in that aspect. He liked the way his name was kept out of the papers, unlike his father or siblings. It was something he took pride in.

Or something he did take pride in. Because as the saying goes, love makes you stupid. And well, Jon wanted Damian to have fun. Damian had reasoned that a couple drinks wouldn’t hurt. But once Damian had passed the threshold of ‘a couple drinks’ that's when the trouble really started.

TL;DR Damijon + friends go out and party, Damian gets a bit too drunk and everyone thinks this is hilarious

Anyone who knew Damian would know that being caught by the press doing anything “improper” was simply unheard of for him.

His brothers and father had hundreds of scandals, memes, audios on the internet but surprisingly, even having been brought up in the spotlight, he’d rarely had any.

But of course, Jon had to change that.

There was an awful lot of truth when people say love makes someone stupid, and as much as Damian was loath to admit it, he was as weak to the emotion as anyone, and it had led to many things he’d come to cringe at.

Although, admittedly there hadn’t been any as…spectacular as this one, though.

It was not a special occasion by any means that led to these events, just a meet-up with some friends at a local bar near Met U. They’d parked a few blocks away and were walking down to the entrance, hands swinging between them.

Damian took a deep breath, letting the warm air slide in and out of his lungs before looking at his husband out of the corner of his eye.

“Jonathan, if you have something you’d like to say you are welcome to say it.” Damian said, the corners of his mouth quirking up in amusement.

“Well-I-I just-” Jon stuttered before clearing his throat and gathering himself.

“I wanted to ask if-well I couldn’t help but notice that you're always the one in the group that stays sober on the nights we go out and I wanted to ask if this time, would you want to be the one to, y’know, party.” Jon rubbed his neck with the hand not intertwined with Damian’s, the other man raising an eyebrow. “This isn’t like-a scheme to get you drunk by the way, I know how it sounds. I just…I want you to have fun.”

Damian's expression softened. “Thank you, love. But you don’t need to worry, okay? I have plenty of fun even when I am off to the side.”

Jon snorts and Damian scowls playfully.

“Last time we went out you were so high strung that you nearly drop-kicked a guy ‘cause he bumped into me.” Jon laughs.

“He shouldn't have bumped into you if he didn’t want to face the consequences.” Damian responded dryly.

“Yeah okay,” Jon says, rolling his eyes. “Just-try to let yourself have fun. I'll be the one that plays lookout tonight, alright? You don’t have to worry about anything.”

Damian hums in acknowledgement. “You feel very strongly about this.”

“I do.” Jon gives a crooked smile and Damian can’t help but give a small but genuine smile back.

“Well, we’ll see when we arrive.”

That was neither a yes or a no, but a small victory nonetheless. They weaved through the crowd of college students, staying in a comfortable silence until they reached the inside of the bar.

They were quickly spotted by Kathy, who dragged them over to where Colin and Maya were sitting, already with drinks in hand.

“Damian!” Colin slung an arm around his neck, not quite drunk but enough alcohol in his system to be rendered tipsy.

“Wilkes.” Damian ducked under the grasp, momentarily regretting the evening.

“So, who’s gonna stay sober this evenin’?” Kathy called from where she was hanging off of Jon, much like Colin had Damian a few seconds before. “Y’all can count Colin off the list.”

“Jon is, I believe.” Damian responded, slightly awkward.

Cheers went up, and Maya tipped her glass towards him. “All grown up, aren’t you, little brother? Gonna join the grownups for some fun?”

He scoffed, taking a seat next to her. “Hardly. Just because I did not join the rest of you imbeciles in becoming inebriated doesn’t mean I was less of an adult.”

“Hey!” Jon put a hand to his heart, mock-offended.

“Not you, of course,” He was quick to remedy the statement, both sharing soft smiles that left their friends gagging.

“I’m too sober for your disgusting PDA,” Kathy announced, waving a hand to get the attention of the bartender.

“Amen to that!” Maya sipped from her cup, Damian’s answering unimpressed expression being undermined by the blush that heated up his face at their words. Jon only laughed in response, placing a chaste kiss on Damian’s cheek, before then starting up a conversation to update their friends on recent solo missions, although they were worded to sound like typical civilian jobs to any possibly prying ears.

Kathy brought over a refill for Colin and Maya, as well as Damian’s first drink of the evening.

“Figures.” Colin snorted, looking over at the glass. “You’ll never grow out of rich boy shit, will you?”

“This is perfectly acceptable.” Damian sniffed, looking mildly insulted. Jon patted his shoulder, nodding along.

”Whipped.” Kathy muttered into her drink. Jon coughed, the rest of them snickering.

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

They went on like this for a good five minutes, Damian on the brink of losing his mind for all of it. It was better to save his grievances until the night was in full swing, as things would only escalate from there, and there was no use in wasting his breath when it wouldn’t be heard over the loud music.

It wasn’t long before the group needed another round of drinks. Jon volunteered to grab them and motioned for Damian to follow. Damian tilted his head in a silent question but followed anyway. The pair made their way through the crowd, their hands naturally linking back up as a way to stay close.

“Are you alright, Dearest?” Damian asked upon arriving at the main bar area.

“What? Oh yeah, I'm fine. I actually wanted to check on you again.” Jon admitted sheepishly.

Damian huffed a laugh, rolling his eyes fondly. “Of course,”

Jon fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “You know I wasn't trying to pressure you earlier right? You don't have to get balls to the wall wasted-I just-”

Damian squeezed Jon’s hand reassuringly. “Beloved. I know you didn’t mean any harm. I am well aware of my autonomy, believe me. And if I do get ‘balls to the wall wasted’ that is my choice. Okay?”

Jon laughs and his shoulders slump in relief. “Yeah. Okay. Sounds good. Is that-like-the plan then?”

“tt-of course not. Who do you take me for? Richard?” Damian scoffed, his face scrunching up at the mention of his older brother.

Jon grins. “I mean-”

Damian glares. “Finish that thought, Kent. I dare you.”

Jon barks out a loud laugh. “Wouldn’t you call me ‘Wayne’? I did take your last name.”

“You’re an imbecile.” Damian said, the effect was lost of course seeing as the pair’s hands were still connected and there was an unmistakable fond note in his tone.

It wasn’t much longer before Damian and Jon were able to get the group's desired drinks. Sliding back into their claimed seats, Damian stayed tense, back straight as he sipped on his drink and surveyed the room. He was quickly offset as he felt a light smack hit his shoulder.

“Relax, Darlin’.” Jon said, looking exasperated.

Damian sighed, rolled his shoulders and focused on the conversation that was being had at the table.

“And then, you’ll never believe this, he tried to hit on me!” Kathy waved her drink around, Maya and Colin cackling.

“I was like, excuse me sir, does this look like the face of someone ready to drop their panties? No! I have a knife to your throat.”

Damian snorted at that, Jon looking over, pleased. As time went on, the music seemed quieter and the lights not as blinding. Damian had already well entered tipsy-zone, onto his fourth drink now, and the world blurring together into a perfect mess.

The rest of their friends were past the safety zone and on their way to an early morning monster hangover.

“Beloved, have I told you how much I love you today?” Damian had draped himself on top of his husband, looking at him with adoring eyes, caramel skin dusted with a pink flush.

“Yes.” Jon chuckled, keeping him close. “But I’d love to hear it again.”

Damian hummed and leaned in close enough that their breaths mingled and Jon could smell the alcohol on his husband's breath.

“I love you.” Damian said quietly in the very little space between them. His husband leaned forwards to close the distance and place a chaste kiss on his nose.

“Love you too.”

Damian laughed in response and leaned back just enough to breathe, his arms comfortably wrapped around Jons shoulders and one hand propped to play with the curls at the nape of his neck.

“You’re pretty.” Damian mumbled.

Jon flushed immediately, ducking his head with a small laugh. “Thank you, darlin’, you’re not half bad yourself.”

Damian tilted his head with an indulgent smile. “I'm absolutely stunning and we both know it. What’s that one song? The one that’s like-'I'm sexy and I know it’? Yeah, that's me.”

Jon coughed, unsure whether to burst into laughter or blush harder. “Sure is, D. You've always been the more confident of the two of us.”

Damian groaned. “Well yeah, but do remember-you have every reason to be confident in your appearance as well. I mean-I love you for many reasons but one of them would absolutely be how ethereal you look at all times.”

He went with the ‘blush harder’ option, resisting the urge to duck his head again and instead peppering Damian’s face with little kisses. “You’re so sweet when you’re like this.”

Damian laughed in response to the kisses, lightly pushing Jon away and rolling his eyes. Jon gives a crooked smile and Damian takes another drink from his glass.

“I'm not sweet, Jonathan,” he scoffed. “I’m simply an honest man. And the truth I'm living is that you're the love of my life.”

Damian leaned in to steal another kiss from his blushing husband before leaning back again and sipping from his drink.

This time Jon did hide his face a bit, sure he was burning from the words. Their friends who had previously been on the dance floor returned, Kathy leaning on Maya and Colin stumbling over with a grin on his face.

Damian sat up upon seeing their friends. He downed the rest of the drink he had been drinking and waved them over.

“Hello peasants.” Damian smirked. “Glad to know none of you are passed out in the bathroom.”

“If anyones ending this night passed out in the bathroom, it’ll be you. I’ll eat my shoe if I can’t hold my liquor better than you can, assassin training or not.” Colin challenged, leaning over.

“Yeah sure, Wilkes. Whatever you say. I’ll bet you check out before we even get started. What, with how you're leaning off to the side?” Damian scoffed, pointedly ignoring the way he was also leaning a bit too far to the side when he wasn't paying attention.

Colin called for a round of shots, leaning towards the other side at Damian’s observation.

“C’mon, how many do you think you can do? Before passing out, of course.”

“More than you, I'm sure.” Damian challenged.

“Bring it, Wayne.” he picked up a shot glass, the rest of them looking on, Kathy and Maya cheering while Jon looked mildly concerned.

Damian patted Jon’s fidgeting hands reassuringly. “Stop looking like that,” he said, picking up his own glass. “Go back to being embarrassed. That was cute.”

“Hey!” Jon protested, his voice going unheard as the girls counted down.

“1, 2, 3!”

Damian and Colin both swallowed down their shots, both of their faces screwing up for a moment at the strong taste.

“Gonna give up?” Colin grinned, picking up a second one. He tipped it towards the other boy, a challenge clear in the gesture.

Damian scoffed and snatched another shot. “I hope you’re prepared for the hangover you’ll experience tomorrow. I’ve heard blackouts are worse than normal hangovers.”

“You’re gonna eat your words, rich boy.”

By the fifth shot, both were beyond the bridges of completely wasted, Colin more so then Damian. Jon plucked the 6th glass from both of them, giving them both glasses of water instead.

“Okay, no one’s getting alcohol poisoning tonight, thanks.”

“Aw, why not?” Damian pouted, head tilting in amusement. “Go big or go home, right?”

“Mm, yeah but I'm the one taking you home, and I love you too much to let that happen.”

Damian slid off his chair and leaned into Jon, standing between his legs, chest to chest with his husband.

“I love you too, beloved.” Damian tilted his head up and caught Jon’s lips with his own. Jon made a surprise noise before melting into the contact. Damian's hands coming up to tangle in Jon’s hair before Damian was pulled away by the collar of his shirt.

Damian turned and glared at Kathy, while Jon was catching his breath. “Excuse you.”

Kathy grinned in response and shrugged. “Keep it to the bedroom, lovebirds, I don't wanna see it.”

Damian muttered a couple unsavory words under his breath but sat back down in his own seat.

Jon momentarily mourned the loss of his husband, joining Damian in shooting Kathy a less-than-pleased look.

“Like you haven’t done worse,” He scoffed. “At least you haven’t walked in on us, unlike some people who don’t understand the concept of locked doors.”

She seemed to have been silenced with that, only snickering a bit as she snuck a sip from Maya’s half-empty glass, sitting abandoned on the table.

From there time flew by, Jon sat in place for a long while, just observing and having lost Damian at some point. Jon exasperatedly looked around throughout the crowd and it was only when Maya stumbled out of a dance circle that he was able to ask where his husband had wandered off to.

“-eah i don't know, i think he and Colin are dancing somewhere. I know Kathy went to get them some more water.” Maya laughed. “Never thought I'd see the day that Damian Wayne got shitfaced in some random bar but here we are.”

Jon snorted and let Maya stride over to Kathy. Jon–now with a direction in mind–headed over to find Damian on the dancefloor.

Jon wasn’t disappointed by what he found. Damian and Colin were each having the time of their lives drunkenly dancing and then proceeding to laugh their asses off at the other at the drop of a hat. Jon’s eyes wandered back to Damian and Jon let out a choked noise upon seeing the man's newest attempt at dancing. This time he moved his hips and let his hands drift up his sides. The lights above them washed over his handsome features nicely, his dark eyes feeling like something Jon could get lost in.

Someone bumped into Jon and the spell was broken by another round of laughter from Colin and Damian. Jon strode forward and wrapped an arm around Damians waist.

“Hey, darlin’. Having fun?” He said fondly.

Damian twisted in Jon’s hold and pressed close, as he had done multiple times that night. Jon was beginning to sense a pattern.

“I am, thank you for asking, dearest. Me and Colin were dancing.” Damian said, only slightly slurring his words.

“I think it might be time to head home, hun. It’s late and I can guarantee that tomorrow you're going to want as much sleep as possible.” Jon stated, rubbing his hand soothingly up and down Damians back.

Colin whined. “Awe c’mon, night’s barely begun. We’ve been here, what? Two hours?”

Jon laughed. “Try again. We’ve been here for about four and a half.”

“Damn, alright.” Colin shrugged. “Just make sure to tell Kathy when you leave. You don’t want her losing her mind when she can't find y’all at the end of the night.”

“Will do. C’mon, D.” He led his husband back to where the girls were, Damian doing as much as possible to stay close to Jon, hanging off of him like a baby koala.

They stopped at the table, Jon being pulled into a seat while Damian unlatched himself and proceeded to sit in his lap instead of the many available seats, arms going around Jon's neck.

“What’re you doing?” He chuckled.

“Is it illegal to take a seat now? Unbelievable.” Damian scoffed.

“I-Okay, we need to get you home.” Jon shook his head fondly, before pulling out his phone and sending a quick message to the group chat.

“There. Now they know that we’re headed home. Are you okay to walk or do I need to carry you?” Jon said, only half joking.

Damian huffed. “I can walk perfectly fine.”

Jon raised an eyebrow.

“You’re lucky I'm madly in love with you or else your disrespect would not go unnoticed.” Damian said, sounding fond.

Jon smiled softly. “I wouldn't have thought that you’d be an affectionate drunk, but here we are.”

“M’not drunk, I'm just…hm. In a good mood.” Damian insisted.

“Of course, of course.” Jon rolled his eyes, before sliding Damian off his lap and steadying the both of them.

“Time to go home, Dames.”

—--------

The light was much too bright out, Damian decided as he opened his eyes, despite the protests of the hammer going off inside of his skull. The blackout curtains were drawn shut, but the tiny sliver of light coming through them seemed much more like a flashlight shined directly into his face.

With what he’d admit was mild discomfort, he shifted in bed, drawing a small noise from his husband, who was apparently not asleep.

“Good morning.” The words were whispered but sounded like a megaphone, causing Damian to swat at him.

“Speak quieter.”

“I guess the hangover isn’t treating you as well as you’d hoped.” Jon’s voice was much more amused than he would have liked, but at the moment, he hadn’t the energy to comment on it, only grumbling.

“This is all your fault.”

“It always is, isn’t it?” Jon gently pushed back a few loose pieces of hair around his face. “You didn’t have to get as…compromised as you did, but you Bats can never back down from a challenge.”

“And you kryptonians do?” Damian snorted, wincing as the action jostled his body. “Beloved, if you ran from a challenge, i don’t believe we’d be here.”

Jon hummed in acknowledgement. “So, moral of the story is we’re both stubborn and competitive. Yeah? Me slightly more than you, of course. ‘Cause you’re just a sweet baby angel aren’t ya, honey?”

Damian scoffed and subsequently cringed again, Jon’s previous snark was replaced with soft, exasperated affection.

“I’ll grab you some painkillers and some water. I'll be right back, darlin’.” Jon clambered out of bed and shuffled himself out of the room.

Damian closed his eyes and willed the headache to go away.

“Hey, we’re both off today from day jobs so that’s nice–oh and I was planning on calling Bruce and asking about us sitting out of patrol for tonight-” Jon rounded the bed and quickly handed off the aforementioned items.

“No.” Damian mumbled.

“You really can’t think you’re alright to patrol tonight-” Jon said slowly.

Damian glared tiredly and Jon crossed his arms.

“I’m fine, Jon. Stop coddling.” Damian insisted.

Jon sighed in response but didn’t push. He crawled back into bed and picked up his phone only for his eyebrows to shoot up into his hairline upon seeing the mass amounts of notifications on his homescreen. Tiktok, instagram, snapchat. Any kind of social media and there was someone mentioning him, or trying to get his attention. It wasn’t too unusual. Not really. Jon always had at least a bit of attention due to marrying one of Gotham’s sweethearts. But even then, this was excessive. Curiously Jon randomly opened one of the Tiktok videos that people had been sending him–and Jon couldn’t help the laugh that shook his body upon watching.

“Shut up,” Damian uncurled just enough to glare at his husband.

Jon didn’t even attempt to stifle the chuckles that escaped his mouth.

“You’re famous, Dami.” Jon snorted. “Again.”

Damian huffed and sat up to snatch Jon’s phone. It took all of five seconds for Damian’s face to flush upon recognizing himself from the night before.

It was an edit, Damian vaguely remembers himself and Colin dancing with each other and apparently the people had not only seen but recorded, uploading the clips onto the internet for frivolous purposes like these.

Damian glared at Jon and gestured pointedly with the phone, ignoring the looped music playing from the device. “This is your fault.”

Jon laughed harder.

Their ship name was trending again, along with different variations of Damian's name. The rest of the morning was spent with his horrible husband watching various edits and reading posts aloud to him.

Of course, it was all followed up by being doted on the rest of the day, which may or may not have made up for everything.

When the evening came and he slipped on the suit, Jon tried to talk him out of it again.

“Really, Dami, I think they’d understand, people have called off patrol for less.” He plucked the mask from his husband’s hold, putting out the puppy eyes he knew made the other’s resolve crumble.

“Jonathan.” Damian huffed, reaching up for the mask, eyebrow raising as it was held above his head in a childish gesture. “I will not be brought down by a generally harmless illness and an unfortunately timed headache.”

“A hangover, babe.” Jon kept the mask above his head as if they were bickering preteens and teens all over again. “You never drink enough to get properly wasted, so now that you have, it’s not going to be kind to you.”

“You’re being childish, give it to me.” Damian scolded instead, refusing to lower himself to the grounds where he’d jump. He’d need a running start to reach above Jon’s height, and frankly, he was not in the mood for this, nor willing to waste what little energy he had left.

“Just stay tonight, i’ll stay with you,” He pleaded once more. Damian sighed, looking out of the apartment window at the darkening sky.

“I will end patrol two hours earlier.” He offered, headache thanking him as it thrummed in his skull.

Jon scrunched up his face, analyzing him, before handing him the mask, resigned. “You shouldn’t even be going out. I’m a horrible husband for condoning this.”

“You were a horrible husband when you let me go viral due to my antics while inebriated, no matter how pure the intentions.”

Jon whined. “You’re so mean.”

“So I've been told.” Damian snorted.

Jon sighed and handed over the mask, it was quiet for a moment as Damian checked over his gear.

“You have to admit that the reality of you being a party drunk is pretty damn funny-” Jon said, breaking the silence.

“Jonathan.”

“I know you’re embarrassed, it's okay honey-'' Jon grinned.

“I am not embarrassed-” Damian huffed.

“You totally are!” Jon laughed.

“You are on thin ice, habibi.” Damian turned away from Jon and made his way out into the night.

“You know you love me.” Jonathan chirped, following close behind.

“I suppose that’s why I married you, isn’t it?”

—--------

Damian was beginning to wonder if he should have listened to his husband.

The sudden jolt of nausea had caused him to nearly miss a swing from his grappling hook, looking downwards not helping whatsoever. He made it finally to the designated rooftop his siblings had told him to go to. On a normal day, he would have seen where it was going, but at this point, he was much too out of it to care too much.

“Hey Demon.” A voice from behind him caused him to jump and he turned, seeing his second oldest brother grinning at him, helmet under his arm.

“Todd.” he crossed his arms.

“He got you, didn’t he, Baby Bat?” Tim appeared next, a smirk on his face. “Must be a bit disorienting for you, huh?”

“I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re on about, Drake.” Damian sniffed, turning around and silently begging every deity known to man that his siblings wouldn’t mention his…late night escapades.

Of course, God is dead and Damian could always count on the others to stir the pot even more. Dick hugged him, and mentioned nothing, thank fuck, but Stephanie was another thing.

“You’re all over the internet, Dami!” Steph cackled, shoving his phone in his face. The brightness was too high for his liking and he batted it away, grumbling.

“Little brother, not in shape for patrol.” Cass said, sounding serious but the mirth was dancing in her eyes.

“Baby’s first awful hangover!” Jason cheered, ruffling his hair. “Surprised your gorgeous husband whom you love so much and is the best person in the world didn’t make you stay.”

Damian cringed at the use of descriptions, just one of the things from when he was drunk off his ass and waxing poetic about his partner going viral on the internet.

“He attempted it. I am perfectly fine, thank you.”

“You’re too young for this,” Dick wailed. “This is my baby, you guys, this is not right-!”

“Grayson.” Damian grumbled and his oldest brother clung to him. “Stop.”

Jason snorted. “C’mon don’t beat him while he's down. Plus. You’re, what? Ten years old?”

“I am twenty four!” Damian hissed.

“Four?” Tim echoed, shit-eating grin splitting his face open. “Holy shit you guys, he’s still a baby.”

“Drake.” Damian growled as he was held tighter. “Sleep tonight and you will not wake tomorrow.”

“Dami,” Dick whined. “You got drunk-”

“Yes, we’ve established this.” Damian grumbled.

“You’d think with all the bitching you’ve done at us, you’d never even touch alcohol.” Steph said, still scrolling on her phone.

“I am an adult. I am allowed a couple drinks-” said Damian.

“More than a couple.” Cass shook her head while the rest of their siblings stifled their laughter.

“Need to go home.” She declared, poking at him affectionately.

“I’m fine.” Damian would never admit to the whine that laced the words, swatting at Cass’s hand.

“Uh-huh,” Jason snorted.

“I blame Jon.” Damian grumbled.

“How could you say that about the love of your life?!” Steph gasped in mock offense.

“He’s the one who encouraged me to ‘have fun’. I was merely making him happy and…got carried away.” Damian flushed and elbowed Dick at his responding coo.

“God, you guys are so gross. Ew, Look you’re practically grinding on him-” Steph flashed her phone in Damian’s eyes again and Damian hissed.

“He is my husband. Stop being a voyeur, Brown.” Steph’s face screwed up in disgust. “And I swear you turned up the brightness on that vile device just to spite me.” Damian scowled.

“Maybe I did, what’re you gonna do about it? Stab me? When you can’t even walk in a straight line?” Steph grinned.

“You’re all dead to me.” Damian deadpanned. “Also that is a gross dramatization. If I was that compromised I wouldn't have come to patrol at all.”

At the responding looks of skepticism, Damian sighed. At that moment there was a thump and the crunch of gravel as another person joined them. None of the young adults had to look to know it was their dad, or as he was now, Batman.

The immediate silence weighed over them, louder than the previous conversations. Anticipation hung in the air as he cleared his throat, seemingly waiting for a greeting.

“Father.” Damian glanced at him, seemingly unconcerned over the possibilities this exchange might bring.

“Damian.” Bruce responded stiffly, looking rather uncomfortable. Damian raised a brow, seemingly scandalized.

“Names on the field, Batman.”

“Right, well, how has your day been?” Bruce coughed, much to Damian’s confusion.

“Fine..?” Damian narrowed his eyes at him. “What are you getting at?”

“Last night seemed to have been very eventful for you.” There was a choked wheezing noise from behind him, undoubtedly one of his brothers.

Damian flushed, crossing his arms and looking much like a petulant child then the adult he was supposed to be. “I’m far past legal age, father. I’m married, I no longer live under your roof, there’s really no need for-”

“I don’t think we really ever had a talk about safe drinking, son.” Bruce cut him off with a seemingly concerned tone of voice.

“Father, we absolutely do not have to-”

“You should always have a limit, and I know that you do, but please remember to have a designated driver, and stay hydrated.” Bruce’s voice was tuned out by Damian’s own fuming thoughts, his siblings barely concealed laughter echoing in his mind.

This was humiliating. Here he was, surrounded by absolute hypocrites, all clowning on him and giving him talks. He was Damian Al Ghul Wayne (Kent), for fuck’s sake! He’d been building up his tolerance since he was a child, granted not that it had been exercised recently past a glass of champagne at a gala, but still.

“-amian? Damian, are you listening to me?” He snapped out of his thoughts, Tim seemingly doing a dolphin impression next to him, high pitched shrieks and rumbles of barley held back laughter.

“No.” Damian scowled. “You’re all hypocrites, how dare you have the audacity to treat me this way when each of you have had much worse versions of this than I have! At least I didn’t go around trying to flirt with anyone other than the person I am actually with.”

”Pretty sure he just called y’all hoes.” Steph stage-whispered, Tim now in a fetal position on the rooftop and rocking back and forth while Jason cackled loudly.

“Furthermore, yes, while my tolerance isn’t exactly what it used to be, it certainly looks better that I am actually of the correct age for something like this, and everyone seems to have taken it as positive publicity. This was my choice, no matter how other elements may have influenced it.”

He let out a long breath, looking up with annoyed glance. “And besides, I was kept safe by Jonathan, who didn’t let any of us go past a limit, and cared for me and attempted to get me off of patrol.”

”Whipped.” came from somewhere in the crowd, followed by a gagging noise and something that sounded like a dying vacuum.

“Tt.” Damian turned. “I’ve had enough of you imbeciles. I’m retiring for the night, and you’ll do well to stop gossiping for God’s sake.”

The tips of his ears were dusted pink, betraying his mortification over the events. He moved to shoot his grappling hook, tripping and landing on his face due to the dully pounding headache at the back of his head that was meddling with his senses.

That was the tipping point for his siblings, and the poorly concealed laughter began to scream out near hysterically.

“What, were you all hit with laughing toxin?” Damian brushed himself off, looking moments away from stomping his foot like a toddler. “You’re insufferable, the lot of you!”

He swooped away, entire body burning in shame. God, he should have just listened to Jon. Not that he’d tell him though.

—----------

Damian was considerably less flustered by the time he entered his home but the tips of his ears still felt warm when he thought back to the mortifying encounter with his family.

“Of course all of them had to be present to humiliate me. None of them can be bothered to make time for any event of actual importance but oh as soon as there's blood in the water everyone shows up. Sharks, the lot of them.” Damian muttered angrily.

“So how was patrol?” Damian looked up to see Jon leaning against a doorway nearby.

“It went well, nothing interesting.” Damian said, lying through his teeth.

Jon looked amused. “Liar.”

Damian held back a groan. “And why do you say that, Jonathan.”

“Aside from the fact that you look more pissed off than usual, you have your tells.” Jon looked fond.

“What may these tells be, exactly?” Damian raised an eyebrow.

Jon shrugged with a grin and finally made his way over to Damian before wrapping his arms around his waist.

“You inhale a bit through your nose and deliberately make more eye contact when you lie. I’ve always assumed it was to keep your heart rate controlled and to make what you're saying be taken more seriously because usually you hate direct eye contact.” Jon explained.

Damian did groan aloud at this and Jon laughed quietly. Damian scoffed but couldn’t help the way his eyes softened at the sound and the way he leaned into Jon’s touch. Damian and Jon were again chest to chest but this time they just existed in each other's arms and swayed slightly to the soft sound of a song that only the two of them could hear.

“Seriously though, are you alright?” Jon pulled away slightly before he finally spoke again after an indiscernible amount of time had passed. His voice was soft and slightly concerned. Damian sighed and pulled out of his arms completely in order to get out of his suit.

“I’m fine, I promise, habibi. Slightly embarrassed due to my family's idiocy but fine nonetheless.”

Jon hummed. “I’m going to take a wild guess and assume they saw the videos online.”

Damian snorted. “Stephanie made it her mission to scroll through as many as she could.”

“Of course she did.” Jon rolled his eyes.

Damian pulled off the last bits of armor and quickly pulled on a pair of sweatpants that had been lying around as well as a shirt he didn’t doubt belonged to Jon seeing as it hung a bit loosely off his frame.

“I would like to go to bed now.” Damian said, coming to lean into his husband’s side once more.

“Sounds good to me. I did put out some water and painkillers for you if you need them, though.” Jon said.

Damian's headache abruptly made itself known now that Damian’s attention was brought back to it.

“Ah, yes. Water and medication, then sleep.” Damian winced.

Soon, Damian and Jon were able to fall back into bed and wrap themselves around each other under their duvet. Damian hid his face in the crook of Jon’s neck and Jon tilted his own to the side in order to rest his chin atop the soft strands of Damian's hair. Before long, both were fast asleep and soft snoring filled the room.

It was quiet, save the soft noises of sleep. And despite the darkness of night, the love that they held for each other was as bright and clear as day. It would continue like that as long as they would stay together, a shining beacon of light through the harder times and lighthearted chaos. For now, though, they were content to stay like that, their bubble of home, warm and soft and full of love.

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asymm3 · 10 months

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okay so resident evil au where wesker goes "haha whoopsies" at some point and stops being a bioterrorist with plans for world domination (don't ask me how or why, i know nothing) he moves to a small town in the middle of nowhere, USA (probably the midwest) and buys up an old house to refurbish/renovate

cue the nosy neighbors (aka gertrude and her book club) who are very interested in this "nice young man" who has moved in across the street at first gertrude keeps an eye on him because she will. not. stand. for anyone to "flip" the perfectly nice house from 1920s into some minimalist monstrosity

wesker passes her expectations for the house with flying colors. she brings him a peach cobbler as a present after the house is all fixed up. he is perplexed. gertrude wants to know why he's wearing sunglasses indoors but is too polite to question. everyone has their quirks

bookclub because less bookclub and more gossiping-about-wesker club. he's such a nice, "young" man who is always nice to the cashier at the one and only grocery store (charlene's great nephew), and sticks to a meticulous routine. he gets up, goes for a run (gertrude respectfully ogles, because dear heavens that is a fine looking man and her husband, marvin god rest his soul, has been gone for 20 years), drinks his coffee on his porch, and tends to a few scraggly flower bushes.

after a couple of months and nobody else moving in, or even visiting for that matter, they assume there is no mrs. wesker in the picture. matlida wants to set him up with her daughter. gertrude kindly tells her to knock it the fuck off. mildred wants to see if she has a chance. kathy wants him to prune her like his roses bushes. gertrude threatens to withhold all her wesker-related gossip until they calm down and leave the poor man alone. the flock of vultures.

after bringing wesker some leftover chocolate chip cookies one day, gertrude kindly suggests that he might look into getting a companion of sorts. the shelter she volunteers at has lots of puppies and kittens this time of year, and he looks like he could use a friend. wesker just kinda stares blankly at her.

however, the next week he comes back with a fluffball from the shelter. it has to be the most ill-mannered, scrungliest little senior rat-dog that gertrude has ever seen. wesker pleasantly informs her that his name is titan. it's the closest to smiling that gertrude has ever seen him

life goes back to plain, boring normal until wesker is knocking at gertrude's door at 2 in the morning. she nearly has a heart attack. wesker explains that there is a personal emergency he needs to take care of out of town for a week or so and asks if she could feed/take titan out while he's gone. gertrude shushes him as he tries to pay her and tells him to go take care of whatever it is and that titan is in good hands.

wesker is gone for nearly 2 weeks. by day 3 gertrude can't wait for him to come home because titan only likes wesker. eventually they come to an understanding over some deli meat turkey. wesker returns one day but he isn't alone.

gertrude calls cletus and tells him to put mildred on the phone while she watches as a well-built, brown-haired man painfully limps from wesker's black SUV, up the sidewalk, and into the house, supported by wesker all the while.

a couple hours later she brings over some chicken noodle soup (for wesker's guest) and some of her chocolate chip cookes (for wesker). a harried wesker answers the door, his normally perfectly-gelled hair a mess, as if he'd been running his fingers through it, and his sunglasses nowhere to be seen. gertrude notices his lack of shades and says nothing, because it seems the poor dear is going through a lot at the moment, but she does note his beautiful gray eyes.

throughout the next few weeks, she continues to drop off meals every couple of days. whoever wesker's friend is, they'll need their strength to recover from their ordeal. gertrude doesn't ever see the other man, but wesker's house is uncharacteristically messy, strewn about with various medical supplies when he invites her in as he retrieves her casserole dish

after a month or so, wesker's routine finally returns to normal. one morning, the other man is seated on the porch with wesker, sipping coffee with titan curled up in his lap. gertrude whips up a quick apple crisp and casually wanders over, deli meat in hand to bribe titan

she greets the two men and tuts over the other man's injuries, who introduces himself as chris. despite his recovery thus far, chris is still visibly battered and bruised, splinted fingers stroking titan's fluffy back. titan eyes gertrude warily, but seems content to stay snuggled in chris' lap

as she converses genially with chris about the area and a bit of its history. gertrude can't help but notice the soft look on wesker's face and how his eyes never leave chris. she excuses herself after a while, giggling like a schoolgirl as she phones her bookclub later with all the details. chris and wesker find themselves inundated with homecooked meals and baked goods for the next month

gertrude stumbles upon them one night at the grocery store as she makes a late-night run for more butter. chris is doing far better, just some scars and a light limp, and she notices how close the two men are standing as they shop. she turns away to go pretend to look at fruit, but doesn't miss how wesker's hand comes up to rest in the small of chris' back. the smile doesn't leave her face as she drives home

#resident evil #resident evil au #albert wesker #chris redfield #chrisker #small town chrisker au #sig writes

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stillsaltyaboutmcr · 1 year

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They get like this when they’re drunk: Bradley Bradshaw and Jake Seresin

I had an idea where the reader and Phoenix have to take care of the boys of Dagger Squad at the Hard Deck and they all have little secret quirks when they’re all drunk but the reader gets stuck dealing with Brad and Jake and now Y/N is stuck in a love triangle

(i hope that explanation made sense)

Warnings: alcohol consumption, cursing, heavy touching (non sexual), exhausted reader, Phoenix laughing at you 24/7 when you turn into a babysitter for two grown men, Rooster being very flirty (a little sexual)

Every Saturday night, the Dagger Swuad went out to the Hard Deck to celebrate making it another week.

It was a way for us all to let loose and have fun without the stress of the Navy on us.

But this meant that some members got a little too heavy with their drinking, aka, the boys.

Phoenix and I usually flipped a coin to see who took care of who and I usually got lucky. Fanboy, Payback and Coyote were easy to take care of. Coyote usually got the munchies when he was drunk, so I would make a stop at a Mcdonald’s or something alike to get him food and he’d pass out, like a toddler. Fanboy usually had to be pulled off the dance floor, but he’s get a McFlurry and constantly tell me how much he loves me for buying him ice cream and that I’m the best mom ever, even though hes 2 years older than me. Payback liked to hit on girls, so you’d have to apologize and pull him away and repeatedly tell him “you don’t even know her name.”

He’s rebuttle and say “It’s Kathy!” But every girl’s name was Kathy if you catch my drift. But he’s usually comply and immediately pass out as soon before you could even start your car.

Phoenix usually got stuck dealing with Rooster and Hangman, who according to her are a handful. I pray the day for me to take care of them never comes, and tonight is no different.

When the coin flipping occurred earlier this morning, I got my usual 3 boys and she groaned. “Why can’t you take them this once, give me a break?”

“Because my 3 are easy, I get them some food and they take naps until I drop them off. It’s a breeze! I don’t ever wanna give that up!” She furrowed her brows and pointed at me.

“One day, you’ll get stuck with them and I’ll laugh. It’ll be the best day of my life watching you tackle that chaos.”

But alas, here we were, quickly approaching the time of the night where the boys crossed the threshold of tipsy to drunk. Fanboy was already dancing his little heart out and Payback was already hunting down his next Kathy. I always kept an eye on those 3 so I could swoop in and get them out as quickly as possible.

I was nursing a margarita, sat at the bar talking to Penny when Phoenix came up to me. “Hey, Coyote just puked everywhere, I have to take him home. I’ll be back though to retrieve Roos and Hangman.” I nodded and told her good luck. She had just lightened my load and saved me a stop, so I couldn’t complain. Penny sent one of her employees over to clean his mess as we continued our conversation.

I explained to her how Phoenix and I watch the boys and take them home. She laughed. “You both flip a coin to see who you babysit?? Let alone, you’re babysitting fully grown men?” She covered her face with her hand, still snickering as I explained how they all acted once drunk.

“That’s priceless! I couldn’t imagine having to babysit-“ Just before she could finish hee sentence, we both turn to see Maverick fall off his barstool, taking his beer bottle with him with a crash. “I take that back, looks like I can imagine babysitting a fully grown man. Be right back.” She tossed her towel over hee shoulder and walked off to help Maverick off the ground. I couldn’t help but chuckle. He was obviously very out of it, the alcohol showing it’s full effect.

“Hey, where’s Nat?” A slur of words appeared behind me and there was Hangman, a beer in hand. He had to be well done for. His eyes were glazed over and he had a permanent smirk etched on his face, but his words were slurred beyond belief.

“She had to take Coyote home, she’ll be back to come get you and Rooster.” I stood up and faced him, deciding I should probably keep an eye on everyone since Phoenix was gone for the time being.

“Oh, thank you, you’re the best.” Hangman brought me in for a hug, wrapping his arms around my waist. It was sudden and out of nowhere, leaving me in shock. He bummed contently and added, “You’re very warm, it’s quite nice.” I sat there in his arms for a minute, patting his back lightl, waiting for a release that never came. I slightly tried to step away but he whined and his grip became tighter. “Nooo-“

“Hangman, you gotta let me go dude.”

“But I don’t wannnaaa.” Oh. My. God. Hangman was a Level 5 clinger when he’s drunk. He was a fucking cuddler!! Big, tough and scary Hangman turned into a softy when drunk! You loved this revelation and would totally use it to your advance at work.

“Hangman, buddy, you gotta let go.” You finally managed to push him off and he pouted.

“Fiiine. But I’ll be back for more hugs!” He walked away and you were left baffled. This was NOT the Hangman you knew. Coming back for more hugs? Who the fuck was this guy?

You continued on with your night, eventually making your way to the dance floor. You hadn’t seen Phoenix come back and to think about it, you hadn’t seen Fanboy or Payback either for awhile. You decided to text the group to see if anyone would respond with their location when you saw the text.

Tasha

‘I took Payback and Fanboy too. We’re still at Coyote’s, he’s really sick. I’m so sorry hun, it’s your turn to deal with Brad and Jake. xoxo”

Oh my god, she totally screwed you over. You looked up in a panic to try to find the two boys. You located Hangman with no issue, he was talking to Penny at the bar, probably getting another drink, but could not find Rooster anywhere. You started to panic and type a text to Phoenix to see if she took him too when two arms wrapped around your waist from behind and pick you up, slinging you over the shoulder of the stranger and walking you outside to the patio before setting you down.

“Hey gorgeous.” Bradley was the mystery man. “Thought we could get some alone time.” Bradley was a flirt, of course he was. No wonder Phoenix had begged you to take them. Jake was a clinger and Bradley was a flirt. You could only imagine what hell you’ll be in once you have to tackle both at the same time later.

“Rooster, you scared the shit out of me!!” You hit his arm and he quickly covered the impact spot with his hand, sarcastically wincing. “What are you doing?”

“I’m just trying to see if a fine lady like you would wanna get out of here?” You sighed and punched the bridge of your nose.

“Brad-“

“Listen, no one has to know C/S. I’m really glad Phoenix took everyone, because now you and I can go have some one on one.” He took a step closer to you. “I’ve been meaning to ask you for awhile. I see you at work all the time in that flight suit, the way it hugs your-“

“Bradley!!” You stopped him before he could continue. “I think you’re cut off for tonight. Give me your credit card, I’m closing your tab.”

“But baby, don’t you wanna go have a dance?” You rolled your eyes and decided to just reach into his pant pocket and take his whole wallet. “Woah!! At least let me take you to dinner first sugar! No need to rush right into my pants, but if you want it that bad, just say so.” He stepped closer once again but you put your hand out and placed it on his chest.

“Stay right here, I’ll be back.”

“Ooo, okay honey. I’ll be waiting.” He shot you a wink before you headed in to collect Hangman’s wallet and close all three of your tabs. You were at the bar, closing yours and Rooster’s when a warm presence came up behind you, arms resting on your shoulders, breath on your neck.

“Hi Hangman.” You didn’t even need to look. Peggy took the two cards and you turned around to give yourself some space. “Can I have your card? I’m closing out tabs so I can take you and Rooster home.” He smiled and handed over his card.

“Can we drop Rooster off first? I really want you to stay over so I can hold you all night. You’re so warm and comforting and I can’t keep my eyes off of you.” You turned around and gave Penny his card and put yours and Rooster’s back.

“No, I have errands to run in the morning so I need to get home as soon as possible so I can get good sleep.” You heard him whine behind you. He placed himself on you again, resting his head on top of yours. You sighed as you signed for him. Turning around and pushing him off once again, you gave him his card back and took his arm so you could go retrieve Rooster and get the hell out of here.

Rooster was right where you left him and when he saw Hangman trailing behind you, his smirked. “You wanna bring another man into this huh? New to me but whatever gets you in the mood sugar.” You rolled your eyes as you dragged both of them to your car and practically shoving them in the backseat.

The whole carride consisted of Rooster making innuendos and Hangman whining about not being able to reach you.

You dropped Rooster off and Hangman took the chance to move to the front seat while you were away helping Rooster get inside. You cursed yourself for not dropping him off first. “Mm, finally.” He rested his head on your shoulder and his right hand traced up and down your thigh while the left hand rested under his chin. He stayed like that, making content little noises. “I love you.”

You about crashed when it came flying out of his mouth. You pulled up to a stoplight and looked down, he was unphased like saying that was an everyday occurance for him. Where did that come from?

You quickly pulled up to his house and got him to the front door and he wouldn’t let you go, begging you to come inside and stay so he could hold you a little longer. You were able to step away and give yourself space before he said it again, “I love you, I really do.” He seemed like a lovesick puppy. You had no clue how many times he’s done this to Phoenix, or how many times Rooster’s hit on her like he did to you at the bar. You finally understood why they were such a handful.

You got him in and headed home when your phone rang. “Hey girl, what’s up?”

It was Phoenix.

“Well I was calling to check in on you, see how things are going?” You could hear a very miserable Coyote in the background, Fanboy giving him small reassurances. It was quite funny to be honest.

“I just dropped off Hangman, I’m man free and headed home.”

“How’d it go?”

“Well,” you started laughing. “Rooster tried to hit on me, telling me how good my flight suit hugged my body and made all these innuendos. He kept telling me how he’d been waiting for forever to admit that he’d had his eyes on me for awhile.”

“Wait what?”

You thought you’d broken up during your explanation, so you began again when she stopped you. “No, no, I heard you. I’m just shocked. He’s never been like that. He usually hits on me a little but it’s more just asking for a dance and calling me baby. He’s never confessed something nor commented on my body.”

“Well, he’s probably scared of you Nat.” You chuckled trying to make an excuse.

“Do you think he was telling the truth?”

You swallowed hard, hoping she was joking. “No, maybe he just had more to drink than usual.”

“I-“ she sighed. “What about Hangman?”

“He’s a Level 5 clinger.”

Her laugh rang through the phone, “Oh, I know. He is so touchy it’s adorable.”

“I totally plan on using it for blackmail. He tried to get me to stay over so he could ‘hold me more’. He also told me he loves me twice.”

“He said he loves you??”

“Please tell me he does that to you too.”

“Uh…no, nor does he ask me to stay over. He usually just whines because he wants cuddles.

“Fuck.”

“You know Y/N, drunk words are sober thoughts.”

“Shut up, they do not feel that way towards me. They were drunk, that’s all Nat.” You did not want to be caught up in this mess, especially with those two.

“You never know, but hey, Coyote’s throwing up again, I gotta go. Get some rest girl, thanks for taking them!” She hung up just as you were pulling up to your place.

Could they really feel that way towards you? Or was it just the alcohol talking?

#jake seresin #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw #top gun rooster #top gun au #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #bob floyd x reader #hangman seresin x reader

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rahleeyah · 8 months

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Ok actually I made up my mind and went with payback bc the top two will move forward and fault and rotps are such strong contenders I'm sure one and or both of them will make it but payback is genuinely such a good episode that I don't want to see it fall off the list. Like it does a fantastic job of setting up all the characters, introducing us to their foibles and quirks, and it's a compelling case, and it's got all the humor and heart that made s1 so unique. The only time we ever see Serena, who haunts the entire narrative. The foundation of Elliot's internal struggle - him trying to be a Good Dad and a Good Husband but turning his back on Kathy in the parent teacher conference to have an intense phone call with Liv. Establishing Olivia's reckless streak and the push-and-pull between what is legal and what is just that the show continually tries to address (to varying degrees of success) like. Payback is the thesis statement of the show, of EO, it's the reason we're here.

#s.vu #s.vu bracket

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carpehistoryandthepens · 11 months

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Legacy (what is a legacy?) Part 5

It’s planting seeds in a garden you never get to see I wrote some notes at the beginning of a song someone will sing for me

Hamilton, the world was wide enough. LMM.

one, two, three, four

Summary: Mike is 13. Born May 2009. Sid didn’t know he had a son. All Mike had was hope and a prayer for his and his half-sister’s safety.

(Sid is a dad of a teen he didn’t know about AU) Sidgeno.

Warnings: (for the total story) post-child abuse (all off-screen but it affects things and is spoken about often), learning how to parent, panic attacks, anxiety, based on last season, OCs?, realization about sexuality. Post breakups. Desperate lack of in-depth research for CPS in both PA/CA, melodrama?, kidfic, angst, slowburn, playing fast and loose with the law for drama/storytelling purposes.

Zhenya exchanged a quick look with Tanger over the top of Sid's head as they helped Sid into the chair. Both were thinking the same things: This kid was Sid's, and Sid had no idea this kid existed.

And more importantly, this kid was so fucking scared.

Tanger quirked an eyebrow up in question, and Zhenya shook his head. He didn't know why the kid was so terrified, either. But then again, he had never met his father for the first time after thirteen years - that sounded terrifying on its own.

The kid started talking when Sid looked less like he would keel over and get some color into his face. His name is Michael. He's 13. Born just before their first cup win in 2009. His birthday is May 30. His sister is three. Her name is Marisol. They are half-siblings. They are from Anaheim, California. He had a faint Spanish accent. There, but not prominent, like Nikita's accent when he spoke English. The kid spoke two languages.

Zhenya thought about what Michael was saying. Thirteen years… or really. Fourteen years, given how long a pregnancy lasts. It might have been before Sid and Kathy got serious, but only just before.

Sid and Kathy had refused to put a name on their relationship for years and were always going back and forth, whether they were on or off. It had been worse than him and Oksana, to be honest. But so much funnier. The team had spent many roadies chirping Sid about it. Sid had turned the same pink he always did.

It was in December of 2008 that Kathy finally came to a holiday skate after a fraught on again off again summer, and together they announced they were officially dating. Of course, that year, they won the cup, and until the start of last season, Sid and Kathy had been the "it" couple when it came to the Pens. But this kid. He was conceived just before all of that.

By Sid's sharp intake of breath, he was doing the same math. "You're…. from where?" Sid croaked out.

"Anaheim," Michael muttered, eyes glued on the floor. "In Orange County, California."

When Sid only nodded and said nothing else, still staring at Michael, the kid continued, voice quiet. "Mama always said she had no idea who my dad was. Just that he was kind and had a smile that made his eyes crinkle." The kid - and oh god, he was only a kid, wasn't he? - paused momentarily, glancing at Sidney before looking down at his feet again. "She thought... I sounded like him when I laughed."

Zhenya got a flash of 21-year-old Sid and that bright, broad grin he got when he was happy and laughing. Zhenya hadn't thought about how much work he would do to keep that smile going for years. After that cup win and before the concussions, Sid just smiled more.

"We watched a Ducks game on TV a few years ago, just before COVID, when I was 10. And she said you looked like my bio dad." Michael said in a rush to fill up the silence in the room. "She also said she thought his name started with an S. Something short."

That got a stifled snort from Tanger. Geno and Jen glared at Tanger because his laugh caused the kid to shrink down in the trainer's room single chair. His sister watched as everyone talked, clinging close. She hadn't said a word, and Zhenya was a little worried she didn't know how to talk - dispute being three.

"But before you guys could come out to play again, the pandemic happened and… yeah." Michael trailed off, watching the group of adults wearily.

Sid kept staring at the kid, apparently unable to do anything else. Sid opened his mouth several times, trying to form some form of speech. It was sporadic that Sid wasn't able to talk. His many years in front of the press ensured he always had something to say, even if it was just empty bullshit.

"What makes you think Sid is Papa?" Zhenya asked when it became clear that Sid wanted to ask something but couldn't. There had to be more of a reason than 'his mom thought Sid looked like his dad.' Even the most hopeful kid wouldn't just run away, travel across the country, and throw himself and his sister on a whim or a hope. Michael had to have another reason.

"I have a picture," Michael said, rushed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny iPhone. The phone was far from the newest version; it looked like a used phone even before the kid had gotten his hands on it. Zhenya hadn't seen a model that old in years.

Jen leaned over Michael's shoulder to watch as he found whatever he sought. Michael opened the phone to the photos app and quickly scrolled past some pictures that made Jen's face cloud over with anger and concern as she leaned over his shoulder.

"Can I ask about those photos?" Jen asked as evenly as Zhenya had ever heard her. Including, of course, that time when he had a Twitter mishap that had Anya laughing at him for months.

Michael froze. He didn't move for a heartbeat at all, and Zhenya was worried he would also shut down. Then Michael took a deep breath and slowly nodded. "Let me find this picture first." He didn't move much; he just resumed flipping through pictures.

Jen stepped back and took a deep breath. "That's fine. When you're ready." She said eventually. Then she glanced at the care worker, saying something with her expression alone that Zhenya couldn't read. It was a little too complicated.

It's a boundary, Zhenya realized, as Michael's back relaxed slightly at Jen's acceptance of his words. The kid was drawing a boundary. How much he trusted everyone in this room depended on how they reacted to his attempt.

The care worker looked like she approved of Jen's reaction. But then again, from where she was leaning on the wall, she could also see what was on the phone over the kid's shoulder. She had also gone red with anger when he was scrolling.

Whatever the kid was scrolling past had to be bad. Tanger and Zhenya exchanged another look over Sid's head. Zhenya was glad that the core knew each other so well. A kid learning to draw boundaries like a scared and burnt rookie? That wasn't a good sign at all.

Sid didn't seem to notice the look exchanged over his head, too focused on the kid before him. He did seem to register the boundary drawn, but Zhenya wasn't sure - Sid could be observant.

The sister, Marisol, Zhenya did his best to remember, squirmed from under his jacket, and pulled herself up to see his phone. He had a feeling that he would know these kids very well.

"Mama!" she said with a smile when Michael stopped swiping. Zhenya felt some of the worries leave his gut. She could speak; her voice was even more accented than Michael's.

Michal stared at the phone for one long moment before flipping it around to show Sid.

Jen and the Care Worker had both gone from angry to surprised. Jen recovered first, pulled out her phone, and typed some things into it. Then, she showed the care worker, who looked between Michael and Sid, the phone in Michael's hand and nodded.

Zhenya turned his attention back to the phone in Michael's hand.

The image on the screen was a scanned photo of a Polaroid. In the Polaroid, Sid leaned against a bar table, talking to a dark-haired woman. He gestured with his hands, a smile and a minor flush on his face. In front of them was a glass with a dark drink in it. Zhenya assumed it was rum. He was dressed in a tight t-shirt, tight pants, and a ball cap that hid his face slightly.

Sid looked happy. He also looked like he was on the prowl. Zhenya remembered that look fondly. When Zhenya had a passing crush on Sid (and most of the team had one at some point or another), Zhenya loved that look on Sid.

The dark-haired woman sitting across from Sid smiled back, just as entertained as Sid was. She was holding a beer and taking in whatever Sid said with interest. She was dressed up, looking very much like she wanted a good time. She looked faintly like both children in front of Zhenya. Clearly, their mother.

"Mama said her friend at the time was always bringing a Polaroid camera around, and this was the only picture she had of my bio dad." The kid said, his hands trembling slightly around the phone.

Sid hadn't taken his eyes off the phone. Instead, he reached out to touch the screen, then jerked his hands back before contacting the phone. "Can I see?" he asked instead.

Michael nodded slowly, still nervous. "You can't delete it." He blurted out when Sid took the phone from the kid's shaking hands. "It's pass locked."

Sid blinked at the kid; clearly, he didn't even think about that option. "I wasn't going to." he said, then took a deep breath, "But thank you for protecting it."

Pass-locking a photo was something Zhenya had seen many teammates do to prevent embarrassing images from being erased. However, this was a little more important.

"Are all of the photos pass-locked?" Jen asked gently.

"Yes," Michael said, looking around. Then, he met the gaze of Charlie, the equipment guy, "He showed me how."

Zhenya took in Charlie and Anthony for the first time since they entered the room and their upset but determined faces. He had nearly forgotten they were there. Both men looked grim, flanking the doorway. Zhenya realized they had already seen the other pictures on the kid's phone. They had been the ones to pull in Jen and the care worker.

"Good," Jen said approvingly to Michael.

Michael relaxed a tiny bit at the praise.

Tanger leaned over to look at the phone with Sid. "That looks just like you." He told Sid. "Stupid with that haircut." He chirped as if by rote.

"It is me," Sid laughed, sounding far away, responding out of habit. "I remember that bar." He made a complicated expression that Zhenya chose to mean that Sid remembered her too. Finally, Sid turned his attention back to Michael. "When did you realize that was me?"

"I hoped, after, well, Covid. But….” Michael trailed off, looking away. "I played hockey for a long time. And before… Before my parents died, I was on one of the traveling teams, the Anaheim Eagles. One of my coaches worked at a camp you were at. He had photos. You looked the same."

Sid reached out with a hand before returning it to his side, unsure if his reassurance would be wanted.

Michael took a deep, shaky breath, some of the composure that got him to Pittsburgh from Anaheim unraveling. "Mama only said you looked like him. She didn't know. I don't know. But… after… they hit Marisol, we had to leave. I took Marisol with me, packed my largest bag, and left. I had to." He was nearly crying, eyes liquid and red-rimmed. "They could hit me. I'm a hockey player. I'm tough. We play through pain." He said desperately, looking around at the players, nearly desperate for them to believe him.

"Of course," Zhenya said, reassuring the kid. "Hockey players strong."

Sid nodded firmly to back Zhenya up. Tanger made a noise of pain.

This wasn't something a kid should have dealt with. Of course, Zhenya hated it, but that was in the past, and the best they could do was help the kid.

Michael looked so relieved at being believed. "But Marisol is so small. So we had to go." Michael said as if he was still explaining himself.

"Protect family," Sid said, sounding a little distant as he slid the photos over to see the rest of the files. They were all pass-locked, too; a person could see them but couldn't delete them.

The slide show played was one of the hardest Zhenya had ever seen. The photos showed Michael and the little girl's bruises and marks on their limbs. They were clearly taken in a train station or bus stop bathroom.

Sid went further and further back. The photos weren't recent; some dated nearly six months ago. There wasn't anyone else in the pictures other than the kids. It was mainly of Michael; the few photos of Marisol were only at the start of the horrifying slide show.

Sid refocused back on Michael as he approached the photo scroll's end. "Protecting your family is a good thing."

Michael sat back in his chair, and Marisol hugged him. "We had to go. There was nowhere else to go." He said simply.

Zhenya believed him.

"What happened to your parents?" the care worker asked, voice kind. It was firm and practiced kindness. Zhenya had heard that tone before in parents who were controlling their emotions when something happened, and it wasn't (probably) the kid's fault.

Michael let a few tears fall then, despite doing his best to keep his voice even, "Car accident, over half a year ago. We're living with our aunt and her husband now." His voice was reedy and thin. Marisol flinched and tucked into her brother's side at the mention of their relatives.

He was sacred. So was she. None of the adults in the room doubted their fear.

"You did well. In getting her out. Gotta protect, eh?" Sid said. He met Michael's gaze evenly as he spoke, and like so many others, Michael was clearly entranced, his tear-swollen brown eyes meeting Sid's. They had the same eyes.

"I had to put her first," Michael muttered, breaking the contact. "I had to defend her."

They looked just like each other. While Zhenya would have missed it at first glance, he remembered the young Sid from all the tapes he used to watch. This kid looked just like Sid did at his age. The haircut was different, there was less confidence in Michael's frame, and the kid was definitely tanner than Sid had ever been, but the cheekbones were there.

The eyes were totally the same.

"Do you think your sister would like some food?" Tanger asked suddenly, breaking some of the tension. "We can walk to the player's lounge, talk to the chefs, and see if they have something for her."

Zhenya noticed how Michael's grip on Marisol tightened at Tanger's mention of taking Marisol somewhere without him. And Marisol hid further in Michael's jacket. By Tanger's grimace, he saw too.

"How about I text our chef what she would like, and we can get it and bring it back?" the trainer, Anthony, said. "You guys won't have to leave the room." Half the adults in the room, including Tanger and Sid, gave him a grateful look at the suggestion.

Michael hesitated, but Marisol leaned into his side, hiding her face; she was a little shy but caught the conversation. "Food? Like fries?" She asked into Michael's side, barely looking at Anthony out of the corner of her eyes.

"Do you like sweet potatoes?" Anthony asked. The Pens facilities might have fries in the concession stands, but what was available to the players was always a little healthier.

She hesitated, making a face like she didn't understand. Then, she pulled in closer to Michael.

“La Batata,” Michael murmured into her hair. “Te gustan mucho las batatas, Marisol.”

Her face cleared at the Spanish. "Si! I do!" she smiled brightly, all shyness and uncertainty forgotten.

Tanger said, "Let's go over to Anthony and talk to him about food for you, Marisol. Maybe we can pick something for your brother, too." He pointed at the phone that Anthony held up. "We'll be right over here on this bench." Tanger walked away from Sid's side and patted the trainer's bench on the other side of the room. Just far away from all for another conversation to occur, but still close. Still within eyesight. Anthony made sure there was a space between him and Tanger for Marisol so Michael's view would not be blocked.

Michael hesitated but put Marisol down on the floor when she squirmed. "I want something with rice and beans, Mari," he said, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

Marisol nodded. “Que tal una quesadilla? Como el de Mamá?”

“Por supuesto. Si tienen alguno. ” Michael said.

Marisol, Tanger, and Anthony all started talking in low voices. Tanger suggested items, and Anthony looked them up so Marisol could see them.

Zhenya turned his attention to the kid in front of him and Sid.

"What made you take pictures?" the care worker asked, still flipping through the phone.

"I dunno." Michael shrugged, tucking himself into the chair in another attempt to make himself smaller. "I was worried about proof. So it's not my word versus hers." He said, then muttered even lower so Zhenya wasn't entirely sure he heard right what he said next. "Or his."

The care worker frowned even more at the phone, catching Michael's worries.

"Can you promise she'll be safe if you're not my dad? Like, she can't go back to my aunt." Michael asked, voice small, focused on Marisol. "She's, like, not good for us."

Sid flinched. "....I don't know, Michael," he said slowly, like it pained him to not agree instantly. He sat back in the chair he had been placed into.

Zhenya's heart reached out to him. Michael clearly only wanted his sister to be safe. And clearly, he thought where they came from wasn't safe at all.

The care worker stepped forward before Sid could finish. "Mr. Crosby can't promise that, Michael. We can only do our best."

"I did my research!" Michael turned and stared at her kind of angrily. The first emotion that Zhenya saw from him wasn't worry or sadness. "Pennsylvania won't send us back. Not really. California will allow "Interstate placements if the child has family or is under four years old." Michael said that as if he was quoting something. "And Marisol is three. And my family. We're good if he - Sid - he is my dad." Michael tripped over Sid's name a little, but he glared at the woman, daring her to say otherwise.

The care worker took it in stride. "But what happens if he's not your father, Michael?" The care worker asked, her voice even. "What did your research say?"

"Pennsylvania won't send us back. Not without good proof, we'll be safe where we're sent. I looked it up! I promise. I got the librarian to help me and everything." Michael pleaded. "We'll be safe. We might not get to stay together, but we'll be safe."

"Ok, Michael…" The care worker sighed. "But it's more complicated than that. Honestly, the system would take a long time to get you both back to California."

Michael's shoulders relaxed at the care worker's words. Zhenya wondered how much of Michael's stress was based on whether he could save his sister.

God, Zhenya could remember what that type of stress and desperation what that felt like. It felt like being pushed into a corner, and there was no other way out. Zhenya took an enormous risk when he fled Russia, and Michael took one just as large. And Michael even took his sister along. But, Jesus, he's so young. Even younger than Zhenya was when he made his own flight.

"But, Michael, we can't promise you can stay together," the care worker said, sounding apologetic. "We can try, but no promises."

"I know that!" Michael said quickly. "I know it doesn't always work out the way people want. Of course, I wanna stay with her, but…." Michael shrugged. "As long as she's safe. I'm ok with that. But we can't go back."

"I don't care. I will take them if need be," Sid muttered suddenly. "I can't let them go back."

Zhenya was surprised to find out if anyone else heard him in the room, as quiet as Sid was. "Sidney," Zhenya said warningly. Of course, he didn't really know what he was warning against, but there was no way that Sid had thought this entirely through.

Sid frowned up at him. "Geno, I would want to help even if we weren't connected."

Zhenya sighed. Sid would want to help. That was who Sid was. Zhenya wanted to help; they had to do something.

"Please. I didn't know what else to do," Michael said, looking at his feet again. He twisted his hands in his lap. "I just need her to be safe."

"You did a good thing getting her out of there," The care worker said; Geno would have to learn her name at some point. "But let's see what happens next. You don't have to face it alone."

#'sid has a teen he didn't know about' au #sidgeno #8771 #i write?#this will take a while to write #working title: Legacy (what is a legacy?)

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kitsunetsuki · 24 days

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Guy Bourdin - Kathy Quirk Wearing a Dress by Valentino (Vogue Italia 1975)

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starryexposures · 2 years

Text

Catching Lightning

Summary: When life gets messy, it’s easy to think about the past. But for you and Steve, it’s all about driving forward even in the middle of a storm. (Steve Harrington x Fem! Reader) - Takes place at the end of S2, Established Relationship, Soft Smut, 1.6K Words

A/N: This heavily based on the rooftop scene from High School Musical 3, because I’ve been itching to write something like it. This is also my first time writing smut so feedback is much appreciated!

Contrary to popular belief, Steve Harrington was never a fan of parties. Especially ones that take place in the Hawkins Middle School gym. In reality, He loved everything that came after the parties: the late-night chats by his car, sharing a joint with his friends, and giggling endlessly about harmless pranks. But when he caught your eye while dropping off Dustin at the Snowball, he had a change of heart.

Your pastel blue dress pooled just above your knees, its straps gracing your collarbones, taunting Steve and daring him to try and free them. Steve had always thought you looked good in blue. But right now, he was really liking the idea of you in nothing. Steve felt a spark of electricity boom in his chest as he saw you beam at his presence when he walked Dustin into the gym.

“Dustin, you’re looking sharp tonight.” You complimented reaching to pat the younger teen on the shoulder. He flicked your hand away, mumbling about how you were killing his game, obviously nervous about tonight. With a knowing smile you bent eye level towards Dustin, catching his attention, “I think Kathy Smith is waiting for you to ask her to dance.” You stated, pointing to the other nervous teen across the gym. With a smile Dustin rushed over to Kathy taking her hand.

With a small laugh, you turned to Steve, “Hey Handsome,” you greeted to your boyfriend, hands landing on the cozy fabric of his sweater, “I thought you said you were too old to be chaperoning a middle school dance?” Your brow quirked, mischief lacing your voice

Steve shook his head as he took you by the waist, “No Sweetheart, that was Younger Steve. He was very naïve,” he exaggerated with a knowing grin. The boy swayed you softly to the notes of a slow song, “I, Older Steve, am much wiser and know a good time when I see one.” He pressed a playful kiss on your cheek that never fails to make you giggle.

Oh, what did you do to deserve him?

“Will you dance with me?” You asked, doe eyed.

Steve snuck his head towards your ear, causing goosebumps to form on your neck, “Not here.” he whispered. Without warning, he ran across the gym with you in hand, both of you laughing like you were teenagers again.

And in some ways, you two still were just a pair of fresh faced teens with the prospects of your future on the horizons. Under the grueling ache of past heartbreak, battling monsters from the unknown, and visiting the tunnels of an underground dimension, you and Steve were still the same two kids who found each other in the mess of life. Unspokenly, you both knew that there was no way to go back to the innocence of seventeen - no matter how much you wished for it sometimes. But as you gripped onto Steve’s hand, your flats thumping into the polished gym floor, you knew with just as much certainty that you and Steve were a forever kind of thing.

You only had a second to shoot Nancy an apologetic glance for leaving your post before Steve began leading you up the stairs of the school, picking the lock of a door that clearly read OFFICAL PERSONNEL ONLY. With a quick shove, Steve introduced you to the brisk December air.

He stepped onto the roof, glancing at your hesitation. With an out reached hand, he lightly pulled on your fingers. “Can I have this dance?” He asked, his hand bringing you towards his chest when you committed to the shenanigans of sneaking onto the roof of your old school. Steve twirled you around making you tippy toe when your dress swirled. He planted his forehead onto yours, eyes shining under the night sky, “I found the entrance to the rooftop back in seventh grade,” Steve explained bringing you closer so you could share his heat, “If someone had told me then that I would be dancing up here with the prettiest girl in school I wouldn’t have believed them.”

You shook your head, eyes rolling slightly, “Please, little Steve Harrington had this whole town wrapped around his finger.” You accused, leaning on his chest. You took in his heartbeats and its pounding began to sound like music in your ears, “I’m just lucky that he chose me.”

Steve grasped your cheek, thumbing your jaw as he started right at you. You felt like the softness of his bedsheets, like a night of endless pillow talk, and a morning of tangled blankets. He brushed the tall of your neck bringing his lips closer to yours and he whispered, “I’m the lucky one.” The boy’s free hand ran along your spine, causing your breath to become uneven.

You suddenly felt tension all over, the giggles from before washing away into a shore of wanting. You suddenly felt small, a new shyness creeping into your skin. Pushing through the nerves, your hands found their way to Steve’s belt loops and you pulled him in unexpectedly. Your lips crashed into his and his hold on you tightened, bring you impossibly close.

You felt a trickle of rainwater on your collarbone as Steve slipped a hand over the strap of your dress. Drip. Another droplet splashed the side of your cheek as you tugged on Steve’s bottom lip with your teeth, gaining entrance. Drop. Another drizzle fell as Steves tongue began dancing with yours.

You cursed under your breath when heavy rain began to thrash, quickly drenching the silk of your dress. Steve pulled away looking at how the silk clung to your skin. He decided then that he needed all of you.

The drive to Steve’s house had you growing antsy, desire bubbled in your stomach while his free hand gripped onto your bare thigh teasing you up and down. Steve had parked his car messily, throwing his keys into the void as he led you into his empty house, lips refusing to leave yours. The stairs up to his room seemed to stretch for miles as he blindly climbed backgrounds taking the opportunity to pin you against the stair wall. His lips found your collarbones and neck, the straps of your dress falling to your shoulders as your hair released itself from its updo, forming a halo around you.

“Fuck you’re so pretty,” Steve groaned, fingers fumbling with the zipper of your dress, “And that’s you with your dress on.”

“Steve, bed.” You pleaded, not knowing how much more your legs can handle standing upright, your flesh already pulsing.

The rush up the stairs was immediate. Steve finally reached the end of your zipper allowing you to step out and expose your bare breast, with just your lacey underwear covering you now. The back of your calves hit the edge of the bed and you feel Steve guiding you up and onto your back. With quick maneuvering, you slipped Steve’s sweater off his shoulders, throwing it to join the void of forgotten clothes and keys. Your hand reached below, palming the rough denim of your boyfriend’s pants. His startled grunt earned a smirk on your lips as you pressed your smile deeper into his kiss tinted lips, fumbling with his belt buckle.

“That was unfair,” He mumbled making his way to your chest, swirling his tongue on the tip of your nipple, sucking it softly before letting out a small pop. The coolness of the rainy night air formulated goosebumps without hesitation, making Steve grin as he worked his way to the other, giving each matching marks. “Justice tastes a lot like you.” Steve teased as your moan rippled through the bedroom.

Your fingers unbuttoned his jeans, giving you room to place your hand onto the tip of his length, bringing our thumb up and over the head, your freehand steadying his hip. “I was only getting started.” You taunted seeing Steve tense at the sudden touch. You wriggled his jeans half off placing your fingers fully on his length now, moving slowly, gliding forward and back. Your touch caused Steve to lower his head into your neck, satisfaction ringing through his body. You can feel the softness of his boxers as you continue to please him, “How does that feel Steve?” You asked, sweetness dripping from your kiss bruised lips.

It all felt too good. The meshing of bodies, how his sheets crumpled under you, the way your skin glowed from sweat and rain. Steve was being pushed over the edge; he knew that. But he wasn’t ready to give you the pleasure of having the upper hand. Steve lowered himself on his knees, kicking off his pants completely. He started to circle your pressure point, feeling your developed wetness gleam across your clit, slipping in one, two, three of his fingers into your cavity. The tightness drowned you, the loud thundering storm overlapping with your whines of faster and more that were playing in the background.

The pace quickened and soon everything was happening all at once. Steve’s mouth meeting your flesh, inhaling its goodness before kissing you hard on the mouth. A condom being snapped on before he teased your entrance. Soon he was thrusting himself into you, one hand gripping your thigh and another propping himself up. Your head banged against the headboard, each push getting messier, faster, and harder as your rhythm matched the hum of rain coming form outside. Your breath hitched as indulgence bloomed within you. You were only able to communicate through moans and whimpers as your lips found the nape of Steve’s neck. His words jumbled together as well, lost in the mess of your hair and the heat of your bodies pushing against each other, as he carried you both to finish.

As if on cue, a strike of lightning illuminated the room as the two of you fell into each other, exhausted from the adrenaline and drunk on each other’s touch. You hissed when Steve pulled out of you, suddenly feeling like your body was missing something. His forehead landed softly on your lap, inviting you to comb through his hair. Steve rubbed his face into your thigh, sighing in contentment before staring at you with the loveliest brown eyes.

“You’re one in a billion, did you know that?” he murmured, lips pressing against your skin. “Little Steve Harrington would be so jealous right now.”

Your eyebrow raised causing you to purse your lips as you try to hide your mischievous smile, “Oh, I think Little Steve Harrington enjoyed me plenty.” You grinned, eyeing his bottom. You couldn’t contain your laugh as Steve slapped you playfully with a nearby pillow. You didn’t try to shield yourself from its hit, instead choosing to partake in the mini pillow fight.

The two of you slept well that night, listening to the thunder as lightning chased the storm. You smiled as you turned towards Steve, and thought to yourself - maybe the innocence of seventeen was better left behind.

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