#uncle nik

[snootlestheangel]

@stuffireadandenjoy

Composing a list of moments with Bailey for your enjoyment (ie the progression of your brainrot)

Bailey, who despises wearing unmatched socks, watching her father (Price) walk around in unmatched socks with absolute disgust. Price just doesn't care about that sort of thing, but Bailey is absolutely shocked about his unmatched socks. She seeks refuge behind Nik when the conversation gets brought up, only for Price to call Nik out for just not wearing socks half the time.

They're both laughing their asses off as Bailey sits pouting in the living room, not talking to them. Her little autism brain can't handle it. They're laughing out of love, she's just adorable and dramatic and they're just so happy as a family 🥰

Bailey falling asleep and using Ghost as a pillow. That's it, really

Bailey getting sick and Price using it as an excuse to not work. He's caring for his little girl, she's too sick!! Ghost is hundred percent calling bullshit but also understands. He'd do the same after all.

Ghost ends up playing his uncle role a little too seriously at one point. He just tells her something only a mother would, so she just sarcastically says "okay, mom" and it absolutely breaks Ghost. He's not sure what he's feeling about it but he's feeling and thats all he knows

As Bailey recovers and gets stronger, she starts fighting dirty when she and Soap are rough housing. She gets her revenge for the split lip incident when she slams her elbow into his nose. It starts bleeding and his eyes are watery. Gaz, Ghost, and Price are all wheeze-laughing and crying cause he got bested by Price's sweet little angel child.

Bailey of course is still so sweet that she's like "I'm sorry 🥺" but Soap is all like "No, that's good you can defend yourself". He's secretly proud of himself and her cause he had a hand in her learning defense, and just proud of how far she's come.

Price is definitely proud of his little girl. He's bringing it up at any chance he can.

Nik carrying Bailey on his back like it's no big deal. Really any of them doing that but for some reason it's especially touching for Nik to be the one. Something about Nik standing there with her on his back just acting natural is just triggers such strong cute aggression from me.

[puppymask]

I rly wanna pinpoint what exactly the breaking point was for the homo pro wrestling dreamteam situationship between Bill (Buck's dad) and Rick Ryder (Dick) was .... Being closer to each other than anyone else and basically living and sharing their lives together on the road 24/7...? I'm gonna go insane under the cut >_>

Like. Its totally a thing where they get rly close being on the road and working together and knowing each other, but then when Bill gets involved w Nikki, Dick doesn't just drop Bill cos he loves him a lot, but is like... ok... when are we getting back to Our Dream.... The Dream Team... But Bill is like look man it's the 80s. I cannot be seen having male friends I have GOT to take my chance to avoid the Rumours. If this beautiful awesome woman who could maybe kill me wants to settle down with me I think I should take it.

Dick probably would hang around for a lil while into Buck's childhood but then when he sees how Nikki is trying to "whip" Bill he gets sooo pissed. Now he says whip, but all Nikki is saying is "hey I don't think having your coke addicted pro wrestling carny weirdo bestie hanging around our toddler son."

And Dick, being the man of emotional immaturity and probably on like 3 different things, gets STEAMED thinking about Nikki trying to "control" who Bill hangs out with, but he doesn't seem to fully comprehend that being in a family means you need to keep your FAMILY safe!! Not keep your weird homo situationship with another man on the level.

Nikki never wanted a family or a husband or a kid but she's not Stupid, she knows she's obligated to keep her baby safe and so is Bill! She has her very good reasons for wanting every aspect of the business out of her life... The entire culture of the pro wrestling industry is like. Hostile to family life and stability lol. PLUS Nikki already fearing for her personal safety in the business, she's not willing to see her husband end up like Buck's uncle Dick over here.

Bill, unfortunately for Dick, is not the type of guy to disagree with his wife who keeps their home and their son safe, and he trusts Nikki knows what's best since babies and trying to be a family man scares the shit out of him. He's like, "Sorry dude I can't spend my 200$ envelope of cash from this week on blow and hookers I have to buy formula and diapers for my kid. Yeah my wife said so"

But Bill isn't a total non, he doesn't exactly love that Dick is currently jusy some Guy that sleeps on their hideaway in the basement, in his heart he feels the sadness and stress it puts on him to be torn between two halves of himself... Nikki is someone who advocates for him and sees the best in him, believes in his ability to be more than a blonde jock like everyone else sees him. Dick, though, is his partner, in business and in life. His best friend, someone who knows more about him than he does, and has always been there to hold him up when he needed to be carried. To Bill, Dick is the first person that he considered to be his other half– IN THE RING. Of course.

This is where everything sits for their inevitable huge blowout, where they go their separate ways and Buck asks every other week when he'll get to see Uncle Dick again. He misses wrestling with him on the trampoline, and misses having his cool uncle that always had his back when mom and dad were fighting. Nikki tells him to forget his stupid deadbeat uncle and that he is certainly NOT going to do anything like she and Bill did, and if he DOES wrestle it's going to be at a varsity level. But it's a hard to be raised surrounded by something like the pro wrestling industry and not have its glitz and glamour rub off on you...

Ouuhhhh how the cogs turn....

[ambrosykim]

[elizanikol]

"Will you smile if I admit I was wrong?" (Klaus)

@hybridnik

Eliza did smile, then - her Uncle did know the ways to make her do so when she needed it. "I don't know, you'll have to try it out and see. But really, that's what you get for arguing comics lore with a nerd. You might be older, but they didn't invent comic books till you were like...nine hundred and fifty," she nudged his shoulder with her own. "And from what Mom's told me, I didn't know you could actually say the words I was wrong."

[on-a-lucky-tide]

When John Price is diagnosed with PTSD, I can imagine him finding it fuckin' impossible to tell people, and being entirely unable to process it.

To him, he's broken goods now. It's official. Stamped on his medical. For a man whose mental fortitude is his greatest asset, it would feel like a killing blow. They're still deciding whether he's safe to be in the field after that, which means he's on desk duty. He books some leave to hide away in his flat, avoiding everyone who loves him.

John's sister tells his niece as gently as she can why Uncle John is a little sad these days. So, Kimmy, being wise beyond her years and realising Uncle John is missing his friends, reasons he needs some cuddly toys to keep him company in his flat.

The first that arrives is a black cat with a white face that looks suspiciously like Ghost. This is confirmed when he checks the collar; it has "Goost" stamped on it. The next thing to arrive is a fox wearing a mini baseball cap. The "birth certificate" from Build a Bear says "Gaz". The final one that arrives is a Scottie dog in a tartan harness with a significant addition of fur along the top of its head and down its spine. This is "Soup".

When Nikolai lets himself in with the spare key, called by the 141 who are concerned their captain isn't responding to their texts, he finds John asleep on the sofa beneath a blanket, with the toys wrapped in his arms, his face buried in their plush. Nik doesn't disturb him, as much as he wants to hold the tightly curled ball of hurting John Price. He tidies up, has a shower, cooks dinner. Lets his partner sleep peacefully knowing it's probably the first time in a while.

John needs time and space on the road to recovery, but he also needs to let others hold his hand as he walks it.

[wholoveseggs]

Yo I’m back. Tbh half of your anon requests are me lol. Can you write something about Elijah and the reader having a family. Kids of any age maybe living in the compound with the rest of the mikaelsons? Still smut ofc but I love that episode where Elijah is with Cami at the safe house and he acts all family man fixing the fence n stuff that was hotttt

Family Man

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Life at the compound can be chaotic with kids and family running around, but Elijah wouldn't have it any other way.

♡♡ Thanks for the request wonderful @elijahstwink (everyone go check out his fics!) & anon!I Love domestic Elijah sooo much, I truly believe this would be his dream life. ♡♡

4.5k words - Warnings: smut, oral sex, unfortunately I didn't make this as kinky as requested...its just very sappy and sweet, this is just a day in the life of Elijah as a devoted father and husband, pregnant!reader, uncle Klaus being precious, toddlers, hot cocoa, kittens & so much flufffffff

ps, this is pretty much a sequel to devotion...

In the early hours of the morning you were awoken by a loud snore from your husband. You rolled over to face him, chuckling a little as you watched his peaceful sleeping form. It was the first time in a long time he was finally getting the rest he deserved.

You slowly turned, carefully sliding out of bed. You tiptoed out the room and decided to go down to the kitchen to make some tea.

You loved this time of night, being in the stillness of the house, just enjoying the calmness and being able to take in the beauty of it all.

When you reached the bottom step, you heard some sniffling and cries coming from one of the rooms down the hall. You rushed to the door and opened it, and a small figure ran into your arms, clinging onto you.

"What's wrong, little one?" you asked, scooping her up.

"I had a nightmare. There were these people with sharp teeth and they were chasing me. And then you were there but you were gone. It was scary, mommy," she sobbed, her head buried in your chest.

"It's okay, sweetheart, it was just a dream. Nothing bad will happen to you. You are safe," you said, kissing her head and stroking her hair, soothing her. "Come on, let's go get something warm to drink,"

You carried her down to the kitchen and began to prepare the hot cocoa, which was her favorite. As you stood over the stove, waiting for the milk to boil, you felt her little hands rubbing your stomach.

"Mommy, when is the baby going to come out?" she asked.

"Not for a while, sweetie. It needs to grow inside my belly for a little longer," you chuckled.

"Okay," she said, looking sad. "I can't wait to meet them. Is it a girl or a boy?" she asked, looking up at you with her big, brown eyes.

"We don't know yet," you replied.

"Oh," she replied, disappointed. "I hope it's a girl. I already have a brother, I want a sister," she said.

"We'll just have to wait and see," you smiled, placing the mug of hot cocoa down on the counter. "Here, drink up, before it gets cold," you said.

She hopped off the chair and held the mug with both her hands, sipping away. You sipped on your tea as well, feeling relaxed. You loved these quiet moments with her, and you would cherish every one of them, since she was growing up so fast.

"So, what was this dream about, princess?" you asked, wanting to know more.

"T-there were people with sharp teeth and they were after me," she said.

"And why do you think that was?" you asked, not wanting her to feel afraid, but curious about what caused this dream.

"I think I saw it in a movie or something," she said, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "An-and uncle Nik showed me his sharp teeth, but he promised he would never bite me, only use them to protect me," she said.

"Oh, did he now?" you laughed.

"Yeah, but then he bit my teddy bear," she said, giggling. "he said my teddy was a threat!"

"That sounds like something uncle Nik would do," you chuckled.

"Can I sleep with you and daddy tonight?" she asked, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Of course, sweetheart," you replied.

"Thank you, mommy," she said, smiling and hugging your legs.

"Come on, let's go to bed," you said, picking her up. She wrapped her arms around your neck and laid her head on your shoulder as you walked back up to your bedroom.

You placed her in the middle of the bed, and she quickly snuggled up against Elijah, her head on his chest. She loved having his attention. She was a daddy's girl through and through.

You slid back into bed, lying down on your side and Elijah instantly pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you, holding you both.

"Is my little one alright?" he asked sleepily, his eyes still closed.

"I had a bad dream, daddy," she sniffled, curling up against him.

"It's alright, my love. Everything will be alright," he said, kissing her head and soothing her. "No bad dreams will get you while I'm here," he said, pulling the blanket up and tucking her in.

She smiled at him and kissed his cheek, cuddling him as she drifted off to sleep. He stroked her hair, and her eyes grew heavy. Soon she was sound asleep, and he placed his hand on your stomach, his precious family safe in his arms.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Exhausted. Our littlest one is keeping me up, constantly moving and kicking," you sighed, feeling drained.

"Let's hope it's not like this for the whole pregnancy," he chuckled.

"Don't even joke about that," you groaned.

He gave you a kiss on the head, your daughter snuggled in between the two of you, and you finally managed to get a few more hours of sleep.

Elijah was woken by the sunlight shining through the curtains, and he smiled at the sight of his beautiful family.

His daughter was still cuddled up to him, her head buried in his chest, she stirred slightly and yawned.

"Do you want breakfast?" he asked, his hand on her back.

"Yes," she mumbled.

"Hmmm what would you and your brother like? Gruel? Porridge?" he asked, teasing her.

"Eww no," she groaned, loudly.

"Alright, alright, pancakes it is, let's go wake your brother and the rest of the family," he said, chuckling.

"Can we get chocolate chips on the pancakes?" she asked as he carried her out the room.

"I don't know, maybe your brother wants blueberries, but we'll ask," he said, tickling her.

His son and his niece were both awake and running around, and Klaus was chasing him, laughing, the children giggling as they hid under the dining table.

"Oh, look who's here. Little Rebekah is up," Klaus teased.

"No! That's not my name!" she pouted, crossing her arms.

"Yes, it is," Elijah chuckled.

"Nooo," she whined. "It's just Bex," she said.

"Alright, alright, Bex it is," Klaus chuckled, patting his head.

"Pancakes for breakfast, anyone?" Elijah asked.

"Yes, yes, yes," the children yelled.

"Chocolate chips?" Klaus asked, grinning.

"Yes!!!" the kids screamed, all jumping up and down in excitement.

"Alright, I'll make them, the last one to the kitchen is a rotten egg," Klaus said, speeding off.

The kids squealed and ran after Klaus, and Elijah chuckled and went back upstairs to check on you.

You were sound asleep, your hair fanned across the pillow. He laid down next to you, placing his hand on the swell of your stomach, smiling and talking to the baby.

"How are you, littlest one? Have you been keeping mommy up all night?" he asked, his dimples on full display.

"Yes, they have," you sighed.

"That's my job," he smirked, leaning in and giving you a kiss. "Would you like some breakfast?" he asked.

"I'll go eat later. I just want to stay here for a little longer," you replied, holding his hand on your stomach.

Elijah hummed softly and pulled you close, kissing your head and rubbing your back. He loved the way you melted into his touch.

"How is Bex?" you asked.

"She's completely forgotten about her nightmare, Klaus is making breakfast for all the kids," he chuckled.

"They have him wrapped around their little fingers," you giggled.

"He has grown soft, it's true," Elijah said.

"Bex told me he bit her teddy bear," you laughed.

"Yes, well, that doesn't surprise me," he chuckled, his lips brushing against yours.

You sighed happily and wrapped your arms around him, feeling complete bliss in his embrace.

"What would you like to do today?" he asked.

"Stay right here with you," you replied, running your hand through his hair, making him hum in delight. You were feeling a bit needy this morning, the pregnancy hormones making you want him all the time.

"I think that can be arranged," he smirked.

You grinned and leaned in, kissing him slowly, deepening the kiss. He moaned, and rolled over, pressing you into the mattress, making sure not to put any weight on your stomach.

He loved your pregnant state, the way your skin glowed, your eyes sparkled and the way you moaned his name made him crazy. He couldn't keep his hands off you, he wanted to ravish you day and night.

He thought he knew all of his kinks, but this one took him by surprise. When you were first pregnant with Henry it was like something in his brain clicked. The possessiveness, the lust, the way his cock ached to be inside you, he was lost.

Henry was a miracle, he didn't quite know how the magic worked. You tried to explain it to him once, your witch ancestry, how the moon played a part, but all he could think about was fucking you senseless, filling you up, and breeding you.

You were the perfect partner, and an absolute warrior, but nothing turned him on more than seeing you in this submissive, almost docile state. You were his wife, his goddess, and his greatest treasure, and he wanted nothing more than to please you day and night.

His hands went to your soft, full breasts, squeezing and kneading them, making you whimper and moan. He captured your nipple between his lips, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud, his other hand moving your nightdress up your thighs.

"Elijah," you sighed, his fingers brushing over your wet panties, making you gasp and moan.

"Is my beautiful wife needy this morning?" he smirked, his fingers slipping past the lace.

"Yes," you panted, the pad of his index finger teasing your clit, making your body tremble.

"Good," he hummed, his mouth on your neck, his fingers slowly pumping in and out of your wet heat.

You were both so lost in pleasure that neither of you heard the sound of Bex running up the stairs, Klaus not far behind her.

Luckily the door was locked, Elijah knew better than that with a house full of children.

"Daddy? Mommy?" she asked softly, knocking on the door.

"One minute, my love," Elijah called, his voice strained, trying to keep himself from ravishing you.

"Okay," she said, not leaving, but sitting down outside the door.

"Come back downstairs Bex, your mom and dad are a bit busy at the moment," Klaus chuckled, his voice low.

"Are they playing hide and seek?" she asked.

"Something like that," he replied.

"Can we play after?" she asked.

"Absolutely, sweetheart. Now come on, let's finish our pancakes, you don't want Henry to eat them all," he chuckled, lifting her up and taking her back downstairs.

Elijah looked down at your flushed face, laughing at the situation.

"You are so mean," you groaned, pushing him off you.

"Mean? I was just getting started," he chuckled.

"I think our daughter needs us, and Henry has probably eaten all the pancakes by now," you laughed, getting up and smoothing out your dress.

"I'll finish what I started tonight," he smirked.

"Don't get your hopes up," you chuckled, kissing his cheek and getting dressed.

Elijah watched your every move, the way you walked, the glow on your skin, and how the dress clung to the curve of your stomach. You looked ethereal. He was completely mesmerized, and completely smitten.

You were looking at yourself in the mirror, the dress a little too tight, the buttons straining against your swollen breasts.

"We are going to have to get you new dresses," he chuckled, walking up behind you and wrapping his arms around you.

"This was my favorite," you pouted.

"We'll find you something that fits, don't worry," he said, kissing your shoulder.

"My back is killing me," you groaned, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

"Let me try something," he said, his hands dipping under your belly and lifting the bump, and you immediately felt relief. "Better?" he whispered against your skin.

You let out a happy groan and leaned into him, letting him hold you. His hands were gentle, his touch making the tension and aches melt away.

"Thank you," you sighed.

"You are very welcome," he hummed.

"Let's go eat, I'm absolutely starving," you laughed, kissing him and taking his hand.

"Let's," he smiled.

When the two of you entered the dining room, Bex squealed and jumped out of her seat, running towards Elijah.

"Daddy I saved you a pancake, see, here it is," she said, holding it up.

"That's very sweet of you, darling," he said, bending down and picking her up.

She fed him the pancake, giggling and laughing, and Klaus was grinning from ear to ear, and he handed you a plate filled with an assortment of fruit, knowing it was your favorite.

"Thank you," you smiled, sitting down at the table, feeling your stomach rumble.

Hope was sitting with Henry, and they were coloring on their plates, syrup and chocolate spread everywhere, their laughter filling the room.

Bex was still cuddled up to Elijah, and his hand was on your stomach, and he was feeding you pieces of fruit, smiling at you.

"Your birthday is coming up little Bekah, what do you want as a present?" Klaus asked, ruffling her hair.

"Hmmm I don't know," she replied, deep in thought.

"Anything you want, sweetheart," Elijah smiled.

"Can we get a puppy?" Henry asked, excitedly.

"Not until you're old enough to take care of it," Elijah replied, ruffling his hair.

"What about a kitten?" Klaus asked, raising his eyebrow.

"I love kitties!" Hope squealed.

"Yes, yes, yes!" the children yelled.

"I'll have to think about it," Elijah chuckled.

"Please dad! It's all I want for my birthday," Bex begged, her big brown eyes looking at him, her little lip pouting.

"Don't let her pull that face, Elijah, it's not fair," Klaus laughed.

"Alright, alright, you can have a kitten," he replied, smiling at his little girl.

She squealed and threw her arms around him, giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"I promise I'll take care of it, daddy," she smiled.

"I'm sure you will," he replied, smiling and looking at you.

Klaus could see the exhaustion on your face, and the way you rubbed your stomach. You were tired and he could sense it, he knew you needed a break and some alone time with Elijah.

"Why don't we go out and play, little ones," he said, scooping up the children. "Let's all go to the park, we can even invite uncle Kol and aunt Rebekah," he suggested.

"Yay, yay, yay," the kids cheered.

"That sounds like a good idea," you replied, yawning and stretching your arms.

"Let's go, let's go," he said, wrangling the kids out of the compound.

Once they were gone, Elijah got up and started cleaning up the mess everyone had made. The compound was bursting at the seams with his family, and it was never quiet, but he enjoyed it, seeing the children run around and play, their laughter and their love filling the rooms.

You leaned back in your chair, admiring the sight of your husband working, his sleeves rolled up, and his hair falling over his forehead.

"You are gorgeous," you sighed, making him look up from the sink.

"As are you," he smirked.

"I can't believe you agreed to get Bex a kitten," you laughed.

"She can be very persuasive," he chuckled, drying his hands and coming to sit next to you.

"She has you wrapped around her finger," you smiled, cupping his cheek.

"Like I am not the same with her mother," he laughed.

"You have a point there," you grinned, kissing him.

He smiled against your lips, his hand moving down your body, resting on your stomach, letting out a contented sigh.

You mind wandered to all the things that needed to be done for the kids and around the house, you also hadn't even started preparing the nursery. You felt overwhelmed and the hormones weren't helping. On top of all that you had a party coming up.

"Stop thinking out loud," Elijah chuckled, pulling you closer.

"I can't help it, there is just so much to do," you groaned, burying your head in the crook of his neck. "I'm already behind, the baby will be here soon and I still haven't gotten anything ready."

"We still have a few months, everything will be fine, love. We will get the nursery ready, and the party will be wonderful, I'm sure of it," he replied, kissing your forehead.

His reassurances didn't help your worries, and you knew you were being unreasonable, but the stress was starting to take its toll.

"And now we have to go find a kitten, I don't even know where to start," you sighed, shaking your head.

"We can look online, we can go to a shelter, there's plenty of options," he replied, stroking your hair.

He was always so patient, so understanding, and you had no idea how he stayed so calm. You felt like you were going crazy.

"Do you even want a kitten?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I prefer them over dogs, although their hair does get everywhere," he chuckled, cupping your cheek. "They are excellent little predators, great for catching the mice that are running around this old place," he smirked.

"You're not wrong, the mice are awful," you laughed, remembering the time you were down in the wine cellar and one of them ran across your foot.

"Why don't you go rest, my love? I will clean up here and join you upstairs," he suggested.

You nodded and yawned, standing up and heading towards the stairs, Elijah's eyes on you the entire time.

The moment you got to the bed and laid down, your eyes closed and you were fast asleep.

When you woke up you heard soft hammering coming from the other room, and you went to investigate, finding Elijah, shirtless and sweaty, fixing the nursery.

"I told you not to start without me," you sighed, crossing your arms and leaning against the door.

He looked over his shoulder, smiling at the sight of you, the sunlight coming in through the window and making you glow.

"It needed to be done. I'm almost finished," he replied, standing up and putting the crib together.

"You've been busy," you laughed, walking over and running your hands over the white, wooden furniture. He hand painted the walls and assembled everything, and you felt tears prickle at your eyes.

"It's beautiful," you sighed, looking around.

"Are you crying? Don't cry, darling," he said, pulling you close, your face pressed against his chest.

"I can't help it, these stupid hormones," you sniffled.

"It's alright," he laughed, stroking your hair.

You sighed and pulled away, taking in the nursery. There was a rocking chair and a bookshelf, filled with all the children's books the two of you had collected over the years.

"It looks wonderful," you said, smiling and wiping away your tears.

"Now, what would my lovely wife like to do for the rest of the afternoon? We have the place to ourselves, so I was thinking we could make good use of that large tub in our bathroom," he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"You read my mind," you grinned.

You followed him back into your room, watching him fill up the tub with warm water, pouring in some bubble bath.

"Get undressed, darling," he smiled, taking his pants off and getting in the tub, moaning at the sensation of the water against his skin.

You slowly peeled off your dress, feeling a little self-conscious about your changing body. Here was your husband, eternally chiseled, and there you were, round and swollen.

"Come, let me take care of you," he whispered, seeing your hesitation.

You slipped in next to him, the water and bubbles a nice contrast to the heat of the day.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest, placing his hands on the swell of your stomach.

"There, doesn't that feel nice?" he hummed.

"Very nice," you sighed, resting your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and relaxing.

His hands roamed over your skin, his lips brushing over the curve of your neck.

"I've missed having you all to myself," he whispered, his voice low and seductive.

"Mmm," was all you could say, too relaxed and content to form words.

He gently cupped your breasts, the pads of his thumbs brushing over your nipples, making you whimper and moan.

"Eli," you sighed, his touch sending shivers through your body.

"You're so beautiful," he said, his voice breathy.

You turned your head and looked at him, his gaze filled with lust and desire.

"Do you want to continue this on our bed?" You asked, your voice sultry.

"I'd love to," he replied, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smirk.

He helped you out of the tub, wrapping a towel around your body. Before suddenly scooping you up in his arms, carrying you to the bedroom and laying you down.

"I can't wait until I'm not this enormous," you sighed, looking down at your swollen belly.

"You're not enormous, you're beautiful, and absolutely radiant," he replied, hovering over you, his hand gently resting on your stomach.

You couldn't help but smile, and the tears started rolling down your cheeks.

"Don't cry again, my love," he chuckled.

"I can't help it! Just ignore me," you said, wiping the tears away.

"As if that is possible," he laughed.

He kissed your forehead, moving his way down your body, placing his hands on your hips, his lips pressing soft kisses against the curve of your stomach.

"Elijah, you don't have to do that," you whispered, feeling a little shy.

"But I want to," he replied, kissing his way down, spreading your legs.

"Oh," was all you could say, his tongue swirling over your clit, one hand on your inner thigh, the other resting on your stomach.

He hummed and moaned, the vibrations making you gasp, and arch your back. He could tell you were sensitive, and he was gentle, taking his time.

You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging a little, making him moan and pick up the pace.

" 'lijah," you panted, feeling the pleasure coil in your core.

You couldn't even see him over the swell of your stomach, but you could feel him, and the noises he was making were sending you into overdrive.

"Fuck, don't stop," you gasped, the orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks, leaving you dizzy and lightheaded.

Elijah was enjoying himself, the taste of you on his tongue, the noises you were making, and the sight of you coming apart, was driving him crazy.

You tugged on his hair, pulling his face away, the sensations becoming too much, and he crawled up your body, kissing your stomach as he moved.

"Did you enjoy that, darling?" He asked, kissing you and tasting yourself on his tongue.

"Mmm yes, very much," you hummed, pushing on his chest so he laid back.

He watched you move, a smirk on his face, his pupils blown. You sat on his thighs, stroking him, seeing his abs tense and relax, and he let out a long, deep moan.

"You are such a good father and husband, always going above and beyond for us," you said, leaning down and licking his length. "Let me show you how much I appreciate you,"

You leaned down and teased his head with your tongue, enjoying the string of curses that came tumbling from his mouth.

A soft hum escaped you as you slowly, and carefully, sucked on the head, teasing and tasting.

"Love, you are exquisite," he groaned, burying his fingers in your hair.

You took him deeper, hollowing your cheeks, letting him move at the pace he desired. All you wanted to do was please him, you loved when his voice would crack from pleasure and the way his fingers would tug on your hair.

"Come here," he said, cupping your cheek.

You pulled off of him with a pop, moving to sit on top of him, kissing him and grinding against his length.

"Mmm, I could do this forever," you hummed, biting his bottom lip and tugging.

He ran his hands up and down your back, nibbling at your shoulder, suckling marks into your skin.

Your swell was pressed against his abs, and he could feel every slight movement, enjoying the sight of you rolling your hips.

He guided you down onto his cock, the sheets bunched up around the two of you, and he rolled his hips, his hands gripping your ass.

"You are stunning," he murmured, kissing the valley between your breasts.

His lips brushed over your nipples, sucking, his teeth grazing them, his groans vibrating through your body.

"Eli- stop, they are too sensitive," you panted, running your nails over his skin, leaving bright red scratches.

"Sorry, love," he replied, grinning at the sting of your nails.

He did most of the work, gently rocking you in a steady rhythm, and the two of you moaned, the pleasure coursing through your bodies, his lips brushing your neck.

It was a slow, hot and steamy fuck, you felt like your body was on fire, the sweat and heat radiating off the two of you.

You leaned forward a little, allowing Elijah to get a little more friction, his hips moving faster, the both of you panting and moaning.

"Ah- Elijah, I'm-," you panted against his lips.

You buried your head in the crook of his neck as you came undone, clenching around him.

Elijah followed suit, the sensation of your orgasm bringing him to the edge.

He cupped the back of your neck, bringing you down for a kiss, and the two of you hummed, content and sated, basking in the afterglow.

"I wish we could stay like this," you sighed, nuzzling against him.

He laughed, and gently rolled you onto your side, pulling out of you and tucking you against his chest, both of you smiling like idiots.

"I love you," he said, stroking your hair.

"I love you too," you whispered, resting your head on his arm, letting the world melt away for just a few minutes.

Elijah watched you drift off to sleep, a small smile on his face. He kissed your forehead and closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of being next to you.

It was days like these that made him wonder what he did to deserve it. That perhaps there was some sort of higher power that had guided him to you, that brought him such profound peace and happiness after centuries of darkness.

You mumbled and cuddled up against him, he placed his hand on your belly, rubbing it with his thumb, thinking about how lucky he was.

He was living a life he never thought he would have, a family of his own, one he created. He didn't know what was waiting for him after he was done with this life, but he hoped you would be there with him.

In the next life, and all the ones after that.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

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I've gotten a few dm's about my tags not working (yay) so let me know if its still a problem, I just re-tagged all of you so hopefully that solved it ♡

Also! If you wish to be removed from the tag list just send me a dm, you won't hurt my feelings (it's okay if you got sick of me ~lol) I don't wish to hold you hostage ♡

[ghouljams]

as someone whose biggest complaint about cod fanfic is the lack of horny waterboarding I can't believe you would post about fauxcest of all things........

anyway I would call John "Papa Price" in the hopes he'd belt me

I'd call Nik Uncle...

Ok actually I have horny waterboarding thots that I'll put under the cut.

Anywhoooo. Price introducing you to his sleazy friend who looks at you like he can't wait to start pawing at you, pretty thing that's too young for either of them. Price even makes a joke about it, mentions that he met you because you asked him to pretend to be his dad. You nervously laugh, but Nik's polite smile turns wolfish as he pulls you onto his lap and tells you to call him "uncle" since you're so keen on Price being your dad.

"Sucks cock just like a good girl should, doesn't even bite." Price tells him, neglecting to mention how you'd sobbed and kicked in hot humiliation when he'd made you call him "Dad" with his cock inside you.

"Biting is not all bad," your new uncle hums, "better for breaking, da?"

This is for my piss kink buds(again not my kink but I had the thought anyway)

Being held hostage by 141 and they're all trying to find ways to break you but nothing seems to be working. They figure bouncing you on a cock isn't doing what they need so why not grab a towel and yank your head back with it. All fun and games until you hear a fly unzip and suddenly you're being drenched in warm-wet. Sputtering and trying to get the towel off your face, the cod boy fucking you just laughs and pulls it tighter, really arches your back as your head is forced back and you have to struggle to catch your breath(and keep your mouth closed) while you unknown assailant piss-boards you.

[alexthebordercollie]

i'm always a sucker for the take that Ford does love kids, he's just not the best caretaker. i mean, he's immediately delighted to learn he's an uncle in tale of two stans, and he loves spending time with Dipper and Mabel, he's just kind of dense.

i think aus where he gets to be a dad with Fiddleford are so cute. and so interesting to see how he'd handle it. people always seem to forget what a softie he can be

Oh yes! It kind of bugs me how a lot of people act like Ford is cold when he really isn't. There are lots of little examples of him being an absolute sweetheart. He talks a big game about being logical and suppressing fear etc, but he's a deeply emotional person, and that comes through in his more personal journal entries. He's not some heartless robot. He loves sharing his joy and excitement with the people close to him. He craves human connection even though he's bad at it. He gets attached to weird little creatures like Shifty, he loves his niece and nephew and is genuinely happy to meet them. Not to mention Ford loves weirdness and creativity and kids are the weirdest most creative demographic of people out there.

I don't think Ford dislikes kids at all. I think his lack of emotional intelligence and tendency to be lost in his own world makes him a questionable caretaker. Not through apathy or malice, he's just kind of bad with kids. Making him a father is really interesting for this reason because I'm confident he'd love the shit out of his kids, but learning how to respond appropriately to their needs, keep them safe, and pay attention consistently when needed, would all be things he'd struggle with.

Ford also says as much in his journal that he didn't want to settle down and "start a family". I don't think he ever saw kids of his own as part of his future nor do I think he'd ever consciously choose to have them. That said these are the words of a young Ford with grand ambitions that children would have potentially gotten in the way of. I also think the way he shuts down the idea of "starting a family" is a response to the social pressure to get straight married which is also not something he would have wanted. I mean look how well that worked out for Fidds :/

But Ford's whole character arc is about humbling himself. Learning to let go of this fantasy of some grand destiny and find joy in just living life with the people he cares about. He learns to accept the love of others and to love himself without needing to prove anything.

Pictured above, is a combination of sleep deprivation and those little moments when you're a new parent and it dawns on you yet again that suddenly you have this tiny little human who's who world depends on you. That mix of fear and awe and overwhelming love that hits you in waves and turns your brain into mush for a moment.

Nik and Newt force Ford to put someone else over himself, forcing him to reassess his priorities much sooner.

Also I know this one wasn't really an ask but I really wanted to draw something for you because it was soooooo good seeing a real ask in my inbox. I would absolutely love to answer any asks people have about this AU. I'd love to draw more of Ford, Fidds, Stan, and the twins but it gets hard to decide what to draw with so many ideas in my brain. By all means, send me asks or suggestions for drawings and I'll do my best to respond to all of them.

[srslyblvck]

── drunken chaos,, klaus mikaelson

pairing: klaus mikaelson x daughter!reader

synopsis: you come home drunk, your father isn't very pleased

genre: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 1k

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ THE MIKAELSON ESTATE WAS a scene of mixed tension and comedy. Klaus paced the grand living room like a caged predator, muttering curses under his breath.

“She should have been back hours ago,” he growled, shooting a glare at his siblings. “Witches on the loose, and she’s out partying like it’s Mardi Gras.”

“She’s fine, Nik,” Rebekah said, lounging on the sofa with a glass of red wine. “You’re more dramatic than usual tonight. What’s she going to do? Skip home drunk and accidentally summon a hex?”

Elijah, ever composed, sat in a high-backed chair with a book. He didn’t look up as he responded, “If she doesn’t return soon, I suggest we go look for her.”

“Finally, someone sensible,” Klaus snapped.

But before any plans could be made, the front doors swung open, revealing a sight none of them expected.

Standing in the doorway was Leonard—a nervous-looking vampire with sandy blond hair and a slightly disheveled suit—carrying you like a sack of tipsy potatoes. His arm was wrapped securely around your waist as your head lolled on his shoulder, blissfully unaware of the scene you were making. Your sparkly sling purse dangled off his wrist, and in his free hand, he clutched your broken heels like a defeated soldier presenting a battle trophy.

The room fell silent.

Klaus’s mouth dropped open, his fury momentarily eclipsed by sheer disbelief. Rebekah choked on her wine, sputtering as she struggled to keep it from spilling. Elijah, ever composed, dropped his book squarely into his lap, looking entirely affronted by the sight.

“Uh…” Leonard began, his voice, high-pitched with nerves. “Hi. I, uh, brought her back?”

You stirred slightly, mumbling, “’M fine, Leonard,” before promptly giggling and going limp against his shoulder.

Klaus was the first to recover, storming across the room to snatch you from Leonard’s grasp. “Give her to me,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Leonard obeyed immediately, carefully handing you over. Klaus cradled you in his arms for all of two seconds before thrusting you toward Rebekah. “Hold her,” he barked.

Rebekah raised an eyebrow but took you without protest, holding you up as you draped yourself over her like a human scarf. “Darling, you’re heavier than you look,” she muttered, though there was an amused smile on her face.

Elijah approached with a resigned sigh, plucking your sparkly heels and sling purse from Leonard. “Why do I always get the accessories?” he murmured, eyeing the glittery bag in his hand.

You giggled at the sight, squinting at him through bleary eyes. “Uncle ’Lijah, you look so fancy holding my purse.”

“Thank you,” Elijah said dryly.

Klaus rounded on Leonard, his expression deadly. “You have exactly five seconds to explain yourself, or I’ll use your head as a centerpiece for our next family dinner.”

Leonard’s face drained of color. “S-Sir, I—uh—”

“Four.”

Leonard gulped. “We were out at the bar, and—and then these witches showed up! They were attacking people, and, uh, your daughter jumped in to—”

“She jumped in?” Klaus interrupted, his voice rising. “And what, exactly, were you doing? Standing there like a useless lump?”

“No, no!” Leonard stammered, his hands waving defensively. “I was helping! I swear! She told me to distract one of them while she handled the other two. She was amazing! Seriously, I’ve never seen anyone fight like that—”

“That’s because she’s a Mikaelson,” Klaus snarled. “And you? You’re an idiot for letting her put herself in danger!”

Leonard looked like he might faint. “She—she didn’t really give me a choice—”

“Dad, stop it!” you interjected from across the room, your voice slurred but insistent. Rebekah was barely holding you upright now.

“Stay out of this,” Klaus snapped, but you were having none of it.

“Leonard was just being nice,” you slurred, wagging a finger in your father’s direction. “You’re always so mean to him. He has great hair!”

Rebekah snorted, hiding her laughter behind her wine glass.

Klaus ignored her, turning back to Leonard. “You are not to see my daughter again. Do you understand me?”

Leonard nodded quickly, clearly eager to escape. “Crystal clear. Goodnight!” He bolted for the door, disappearing faster than a squirrel in a thunderstorm.

Klaus turned back to you, his fury reigniting. “And as for you—”

“Give me the wine,” you whined, stretching like a child reaching for a cookie jar.

Rebekah grinned, taking a long sip herself. “Not a chance.”

“Rebekah, leave,” Klaus barked, and she raised her eyebrows but complied, passing you off to him.

“You’re so grumpy,” you mumbled, poking Klaus in the chest as he held you upright. “You’re always mad. You need to chill. Take a deep breath. Do yoga.”

Elijah chuckled softly from his seat, adjusting his tie as he set your purse and shoes aside. “I must say, she does have a point.”

“Don’t encourage her,” Klaus growled.

You squinted up at him, tilting your head as you tried to focus. “You’re so tall. Like a big, angry tree.”

Rebekah reappeared briefly, smirking as she leaned against the doorframe. “She’s delightful when she’s drunk. You should let her do this more often.”

Klaus shot her a glare.

You attempted to stand, wobbling slightly. “Okay, okay. I’m going to bed.”

“You can barely walk,” Klaus muttered.

“I can totally walk,” you declared, taking a step forward—only to immediately trip over your own feet.

Before you could hit the ground, Klaus vamp-sped toward you, catching you in his arms with a sigh. “You’re going to tumble down the stairs one day, and I’ll be left to clean up the mess,” he muttered, scooping you up effortlessly.

As he carried you toward the stairs, you leaned your head back, your hair spilling over his arm as you waved dramatically at the others. “Goodnight, Aunt Bekah! Goodnight, Uncle ’Lijah!”

Rebekah raised her glass in response, grinning. Elijah simply shook his head, a rare smile tugging at his lips.

Klaus sighed as he ascended the stairs, muttering, “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me,” you replied, resting your head against his shoulder.

Despite himself, Klaus smiled. “More than you’ll ever know, love.”

[pricegouge]

Price’s bratty angel daughter when she finds out he’s been cumming in places that are not her:

oh you cum in tissue?? you jerk off to other women because you HATE me?? oh! oh! jail for papa!!! jail for papa for One Thousand Years!!

combining these so i don't spam the dash again (sorry, all!)

cw: incest/daughter swap. spanking. dubcon/noncon fingering. bratting. pov from nik's daughter but i didn't want to name john's daughter for all my beloved daddy price fans so she's called sweetpea and i'm sorry if it ever hits the narrative like a damn bowling ball cause i know you wouldn't call your friend that, really, but this was a bit of a challenge. MDNI

you hate to see papa in a bad mood. he wears it so harshly, heavy brow and flexing fist. dark eyes glinting as he stares his friend down from across the table. you stutter through an apology, for what you're not even fully sure, and papa sends you strained sort of smile, tells you it doesn't concern you.

"and why wouldn't it?" uncle john asks, mustache twitching as he works through another bite of steak. he leers at you, decidedly ignoring the continued pouts of his own daughter continuing on behind him. "never have to take your sweet little milaya over your knee?"

papa looks like he might flip the table, frowning between his own friend and yours. "never needed to. my daughter does not speak to me like this," he gestures broadly, as if in demonstration. your friend continues to sulk.

uncle john just puffs, glares at his daughter. "sweetpea only talks to me like this because i never have, either." he waggles his eyebrows at papa, shoots you another suggestive look. "so don't get too comfortable."

the thought makes you shiver, mortified. papa mistakes it for fear and places his hand on your knee, broad palm squeezing the majority of your thigh as he tries to reassure you. it does nothing to help, your friend's insistent whining still echoing in the room. 'i don't like her. why do you even want her? what can she give you i can't?'

uncle john's date had been more than accommodating, excusing herself with a quick peck to john's cheek even as sweetpea raged, hurling insults and demands until her words petered out into sobs and she'd gotten what she'd wanted - john wrapped around her on the couch as he cooed about how the woman would never be back if sweetpea didn't want it.

papa had kept politely distant until then, calling the prices back to the table before the food went cold.

'should send you to bed without dinner,' uncle john had scoffed, but he'd loaded another helping of baby carrots onto his daughter's plate and she'd thanked him with a watery smile.

'should belt her ass, is what you should do,' papa had corrected between bites of his own steak and then it was all over but the crying. (and the pleading, and the pouting, and the -.)

wide-eyed, sweetpea and you had watched the men volley back and forth for long minutes, tension rising the more papa insisted john discipline his daughter. the more john swore you'd put your own father through the ringer if he continued to coddle you the way he did. finally, uncle john admits he can't discipline sweetpea. says it with his greasy fingers hooked under her jaw so he can smile warmly at her. she returns it, cat that got the cream, her own smile slower in coming but just as warm -

until papa says he could do it for uncle john.

it shocks you how easily uncle john defers. 'whatever you think is best.' shocks you more how he doesn't change his mind even when sweetpea begins to thrash and wail, pathetic attempts to break papa's grip making your own stomach churn.

turns out, papa thinks 20 spanks is best.

you didn't think he'd be able to do it until he's got her skirt flipped up, has yanked at her panties until they've been swallowed by her cheeks so that she has no protection from his onslaught, palms smacking harshly against her rounded bottom. he's never been like this. it makes you sick. makes you shake and sob in fear. you shout for him to stop but either he can't hear you over sweetpea's shrieks, or he doesn't care. you're not sure which prospect is worse.

uncle john stops you when you try to run from the room, arm slipping around your waist as he pulls you into his lap. "only four swats in, sweetheart. you don't wanna be here for your friend?"

swats. swats are what you aim at dog noses when they're being troublesome. swats are what kill flies. quick, tight. no real force. papa is incapable of a swat, hands too heavy and brutish. leave stinging claps of skin echoing in the air, piercing even over the sound of sweetpea's wails.

the next strike makes her sob, or maybe that's you. you turn away, try to burrow in uncle john's neck, but his fingers find your chin like they did sweetpea's earlier, tilt your head back to the display before you.

"you'll watch and you'll remember. because i know your papa, and i know enough to tell you now - you ever act like my sweetpea did today, it'll be me belts your ass, no matter how tough he acts." you want to tell him he's wrong, that papa would never let someone hurt you. but then, you know that only twenty minutes ago, sweetpea would have said the same about him. "and i'm not as nice as your papa."

and so, you watch. tears on your face and squirming, but you do. silently count with papa, in russian. curse when he asks sweetpea what number they're at and she can't answer so he starts again. it's cruel, the kind of pain that sinks under your ribs and pulls, inspects all your tender bits for the most sweetest morsels and teethes. sweetpea twitches about, skin mottling, tears and snot staining her face. she looks like a grubby little bug, like he's lifted a rock to find her squirming beneath, afraid of the sunshine.

yet still he touches her. broad strokes paint her skin, the spiky crown of fingers wrapping down into the crease of her thigh. he kneads at her occasionally, tests the tenderness of her flesh. once, you hear her breath go thin and ragged, a shaky, unmistakable exhale. his next swat lands square on the seam of her and you jolt just as much as she does, legs cricketing.

"keep misbehaving, you'll get your punishment now," uncle john warns, but you're angled wrong in his lap, and when his hand thumps threateningly against you, it's not your ass he squeezes in apology. you try to swallow the little noise it elicits, but your throat is too dry, the resulting gulp audible even to him. he just chuckles, broad palm moving to cup your mound. "unless that's what you want?"

you shake your head, but it doesn't matter. not when papa has noticed, pausing as he rubs over sweetpea's rear again, barely even looking at how she squirms beneath him. "reward her for watching. being brave. will remind your parshivets why we're here, no?"

john just chuckles, a thin breathy thing that ghosts over your temple just as his fingers trace up your thigh. "whatever you think is best," he repeats, and you try to wriggle away until papa's voice calls to you.

"milaya. look at me." you wilt when you do, his dark eyes focused entirely on you for the first time all night, making your preen even as uncle john's fingers find your cunt, his groan of approval only proving your shame. "what number are we at?"

you blink, confused, and papa just tuts, gives sweetpea a harsh swat that has her trying to crawl out of his lap, held in place by the thick arm wrapped around her waist. you want to catch her eye, see if she's okay, but she can't rip her baleful stare away from where her father sinks into you, thick fingers sliding easily through your slick.

she looks on the verge of throwing another fit. looks too fucked out and tired to bother.

"what number are we at, milaya?"

uncle john pulls a gasp from you, clever fingers hooking against your spongy wall. "i - i don't know," you stutter, and cringe when he just tuts, fingers digging cruelly into sweetpea's ass again.

"from the beginning, then."

[roachs-pet-roach]

Take my very short, very incoherent Christmas COD headcannons

(as i listen to the family drama [divorced uncle edition💪])

SOAPGHOST/GHOAP/GHOSTSOAP

Simon has never had a healthy family christmas.

Like in his life

poor man was expecting a physical altercation

cut to him practically clinging to Johnny’s hand as they stand outside Jonny’s parents house

“Johnny are you sure this is a good idea?”

”Aye- they’ll love you just take a breath”

Simon has never felt such an onslaught of warmth at once.

Instantly a warm shout of greeting from several mactavishes

A couple small nieces and nephews running up to hug their uncle and stare wide-eyed up at the blonde man who stood next to him nervously.

cut to simon sitting on the floor trying to have a polite conversation with Johnnys grandma while he is dogpiled by the five young nieces and nephews

And also listening to Johnnys brother talk about his new ex-wife

Simon didn’t have to talk much because the others didn’t give him much chance

He hardly had to talk to anyone besides the kids and johnny’s grandma

which was probably best because he had to stammer through a bit of Scottish

idk im tapped for these boys but i think simon would be so happy to just be surrounded by a normal family with normal family issues and just have tea with the grandma and the kids.

GAZROACH

Gary and his family are pretty close

Kyle and his family have a.. mildly strained relationship.

there was a few arguments when Kyle joined the military and tensions have been strained.

He made up a lie about working and his family didn’t question it.

So he spent christmas with Gary’s family.

It was a fub christmas

As it turns out, Gary’s parents and sister are not even close to as quiet as Gary is

He talked and talked with Gary’s family the whole time

Gary just watched and played with his nephew

they ended up watching ‘charlie brown christmas’

Kyle was a family favorite

idk just word vomiting my feelings for these soft bois

NIKPRICE/PRICENIK

They just spend the holidays with each other

To nobody’s surprise Nik has a lavish house

Him and Price just stay in the house watching movies and snuggling all day

Price makes cinnamon rolls christmas morning

it was a tradition he had when he was younger

It was a lazy day for the two men

Honestly all they could’ve asked for

sorry ik these are rushed😔 was planning on doing little fics for them but perhaps next year

Merry Christmas!

[fandoms--fluff]

Secret Bestie

Mikaelson female reader x Katherine Pierce

Warnings: Drinking, swearing?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where are you going?" Your dad asks from where he's sat in an armchair. You're on your way to the front door, about to leave. You're wearing a black, mini, v-neck bodycon dress with bell sleeves and black heeled boots.

"Out" you face him. "Where exactly?"

"Oh, just deep into the woods where I'm meeting my witch cult where we're planning to end the world" you tell your dad with a straight face.

"What?" He raises an eyebrow. "You do know what sarcasm is, correct?" You ask him.

"Whatever. I'm just meeting my friend to go out to dinner and talk and stuff our faces with food" you tell him, not disclosing the name of said friend.

"...Alright, have fun" he eventually says. You tell him bye and walk out the door.

When you walk in the restaurant, you look around before spotting your best friend.

"Hey, babe" you tell her, sitting across the booth. "You do know I'm way older than you" she smirks.

"Huh, I could've sworn I've known you since we were kids" you joke, making her chuckle.

"Elijah still doesn't know about me, huh?" She takes a sip of her drink.

"I'm pretty sure he would hunt you down and kill you, himself. That is if Uncle Nik doesn't find out first that is" You take the glass out of her hand, taking a sip of it yourself.

"That's fair," Katherine says, taking her drink back. "Get your own" She smirks.

You call over the waitress and persuade her into giving you a drink with a tiny bit of magic. "Impressive" Katherine says once the brunette waitress leaves.

"Well, you vamps have your compulsion, while I have my persuasive tricks. One may call me magical" you smirk back at her. "Oh, I wonder why" Katherine rolls her eyes playfully.

"We should have some fun" you smile. "Hmm, I like that face, what kind of fun?" She smiles back. You've noticed that she only really smiles a general real smile when she's with you.

"I heard about a party in the woods that's tonight," You tell her. "Perfect," Katherine says. You guys clink your glasses together before finishing your drinks.

You guys got to the party half an hour ago and are dancing to the booming music that the speakers are playing. halfway through your's and Katherine's favorite song, your phone starts to vibrate.

You look down at the caller ID and see it's your dad who's calling. "Shit" You say and walk away from the crowd of people, Katherine following after you.

"What's wrong? Who's phoning you?" Katherine asks. "My dad" You say, getting her to instantly quiet when you answer it.

"Hey, dad" You bring the phone to your ear.

"Hello, I was just- what's all that sound?" Your dad instantly hears all the noise in the background.

"Oh, yeah, a bunch of annoying ass teens just came in here with a speaker, and no one is doing anything about it" You groan, lying to your dad perfectly.

Your father believed you after a moment. You smirk after hanging up. "He is so gullible to you," She says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"You have no idea" you chuckle and you guys go back to the fun.

[loveandleases]

Thought I would do a nice little prompt for our favorite dilf. You can find Cam's prompt here. More below the cut~

After watching Ardent's niece for him over the weekend, he offered to take you out for a drink. You accepted happily, knowing not to let the chance to get a free drink pass you by.

As you step through the weathered door of the dingy bar, the first thing that hits you is the unmistakable smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke lingering in the air. The dim lighting casts a gloomy ambiance over the space, with flickering neon signs barely illuminating the dark green walls.

The bar itself is worn and scarred, evidence of countless nights of rowdy patrons leaning against its surface. The stools are mismatched and worn, their upholstery torn and frayed from years of use. The wooden floorboards creak underfoot as you navigate through the dimly lit room.

In one corner, a jukebox hums quietly, playing a selection of classic rock tunes that echo through the space. A pool table occupies a shadowy alcove nearby. The balls all racked and ready for the next game. The bar is empty, aside from an old grizzled bartender wiping down the surface. He looks up and briefly smiles at you before continuing his task.

"Hey, I've got that. You head on home, I'll close up when I'm done." Ardent comes behind the old man, placing a large hand over his, taking the rag from his grasp.

"You sure Denny, I thought you had a hot-"

"Nik!" Ardent hisses.

Making your way to the bar you slide onto one of the stools. Drumming your fingers on the bar top.

The old man looks between you and Ardent, his cheeks flushing under your glare. "Alright, be a good boy eh? Your mother would kill me if she thought I was letting you run wild." He pats Ardent on the back, making his way over to a back door.

He clears his throat, causing you and Ardent to stare at him. "There….there's a dispenser in the men's bathroom."

You don't miss how Ardent grits his teeth and rolling his eyes, before turning back to look at you.

"Now, I wonder what kind of dispenser he could mean. Tell me Denny, what's the old man talking about." It's far too late to hide the smirk on your face as Ardent rubs the back of his neck and groans.

The bar lights paint Ardent's olive complexion with a slight orange hue. His chin length hair tucked away from his face. It allows you to appreciate the slight stubble he's wearing.

"You know not to listen to old people."

"Does that include you?"

Ardent glares at you, placing a small napkin down in front of you. "Don't you start. Or I'll charge you for the drink."

You raise your hands up in defeat. You know not to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially one with lips like Ardent. One's you've kissed several times by now, among other things.

"So how do you two know each other?"

"Oh, he's my uncle. Nikolaso." He places two cups in front of you. Making his way to the opposite side of the bar,grabbing ice some scotch, and a few other ingredients. Before walking to stand beside you, finding comfort in the smell of his cologne as he brushes against you. You watch him quietly as he mixes your drink, even going so far as to garnish it with a strawberry.

His eyes watch you closely his tongue darts out along his lips before he clears his throat. "I used to work here when I was younger, now I just come by to help when he needs it. Alright, try this." He pushes the drink in your direction.

You look at it, at the smooth consistency of the salted rim. Picking up the glass you take a sip. The burn in your throat makes your eyes tear up and you slam the glass back down trying to get your coughing under control.

Ardent begins to laugh, smacking you on the back. "Forgive me, I assumed you were good at swallowing."

You don't miss the implication or the slight curl of his lips. You smack his hand away. "Ya know, you should hold off on the alcohol, old man. Look's like you're starting to develop a beer gut."

Both of you know you're lying. You can't ignore the six-pack, the tautness of his stomach as you smack it teasingly. Ardent's hand grabs your wrist holding it in place.

His gaze follows you, looking you over before huffing,"Go fuck yourself."

Shaking your head at him you stand getting closer to him, your face mere inches away. "Fuck me yourself, you coward."

He pulls you behind him walking toward the alcove, you don't hide the smile on your face, you've always been good at ruffling his feathers.

Teasingly you open your mouth, "What's the matter, cat got your tongue?"

Both of you stop as Ardent moves to clear off the billiard table. You can feel your pulse quicken, and he doesn't bother to let go of your hand, not until it's cleared it.

He turns to you a grin on his face, reaching his hands up to cup your face, before gently pressing his nose against yours, feeling his warm breath as he pulls you closer. There's a tenderness in the act and then, as your noses linger, he leans in for a kiss, your lips meeting softly yet eagerly, sighing into it as his fingers lovingly brush against your cheeks.

"I'd rather fuck you here." His voice is husky, and you don't miss the shakiness of it.

You push him back until he leans against the billiard table. "Then you better go to that dispenser your uncle mentioned."

[runninriot]

written for @steddie-week day 4

and the @steddiesongfics july prompt

Easy

prompts: trade, body swap & song: Nik Kershaw (Wouldn't It Be Good) | wc: ~1.2k | rated t | cw: recreational drug use | tags: steve has a bad relationship with his parents, good uncle wayne appreciation, repressed feelings, steve has a crush on eddie, friends to lovers | also on ao3

They’re lying on Eddie’s floor, sharing a joint like they often do. Hanging out, just the two of them, enjoying each other’s company.

Eddie’s been rambling for the past ten minutes, talks about how he’d like to swap bodies with Steve for a day, how he’d want to experience a day in Steve’s life first-hand.

   “Why the hell would you want that?”

   “You got it easy,” Eddie says matter-of-factly and Steve snorts at this very untrue claim.

   “Yeah right, I wish.”

   “What could possibly make Mr popular rich boy’s life hard, huh?” Eddie teases and Steve knows he doesn’t mean it in a hurtful way but it still stings.

   “You don’t know a thing bout it,” he answers simply, before snatching the joint from Eddie’s fingers and taking a long drag.

Steve doesn’t want to open up that box. He came here to forget, not to talk about what’s keeping him up at night.

   “So? Tell me then. I wanna know. Because- and don’t take this the wrong way, Stevie – but I really can’t see it. I mean, look at me. I’m certified trailer trash. I know what it’s like to live on nothing but toast and peanut butter for weeks because the washing machine broke and the next pay check isn’t yet due.” Eddie laughs but Steve can’t find it in him to join in on it.

He hates when Eddie calls himself that, trailer trash. As if living in a trailer park makes him less of a person. It doesn’t! It just means that Eddie and his uncle are less fortunate than others.

Steve didn’t do shit to earn the comfort of growing up in a big house, was just... lucky to be born into the Harrington family.

Wayne on the other hand is doing his best, is giving his all to make their life as good as possible.

Steve envies that.

Wayne is an honest and hard-working man, and even if Eddie likes to joke around and belittle himself for their situation, Steve knows he cherishes everything Wayne has done for him. Steve knows Eddie will do everything to make him proud. To repay him for taking him in when he needed a place to stay. For always being there for him, for supporting him. For loving him unconditionally.

They might not have much but they have each other. It’s something Steve would trade everything he owns for without hesitation.

In a heartbeat, he’d give up his inheritance for a relationship with his parents that is as respectful and loving as the one between Eddie and his uncle.

Because Steve might have a nice car, a pool in the backyard, and a name that can open doors for him but- at home, he feels lonely, unloved. He’s a failure, his father keeps reminding him. And worst of all, he’s afraid to be his true self around them because they’d never accept it, would never understand.

   “Steve? You with me?” Eddie pushes himself up on one arm, his face hovering over Steve’s. “Hey, did I say something wrong? I didn’t mean to-“

   “Nah, you’re good. Just got a little lost in my thoughts.” Steve offers a weak smile but he can sense that Eddie doesn’t buy it.

He knows him too well.

Has this annoying ability to read Steve like an open book.

It’s like he can see right through him, can see right through Steve’s little white lies whenever he tries to talk himself out of something.

There’s only one thing Eddie doesn’t know about him and never will. It’s Steve’s best kept secret; not even Robin knows. Because he can’t risk his parents finding out about it.

If Eddie knew, maybe he’d understand and take back what he said earlier because yeah, sure, Steve’s life might seem easy from an outsider’s point of view, someone who only sees the shiny exterior of his golden cage.

It’s a false illusion, because contrary to Steve, Eddie does not have to hide a certain part of himself out of fear of the consequences.

Wayne loves him regardless, accepts all of him. Wayne knows, and he’d put up a fight with anyone who doesn’t agree with Eddie’s... choices.

Steve’s father would kill him if he ever found out that his son is-

   “Alriiight, enough for you!” Eddie sits up and reaches for the joint that’s slowly burning down in Steve’s hand.

Their fingers brush and it feels like the world stops for a second. Steve finds Eddie’s gaze, can’t look away, slowly loses himself in Eddie’s dark brown eyes. The air is crackling between them and Steve feels tiny electric shocks prickle on his skin when Eddie lifts his free hand and cups his face.

The hand doesn’t linger, unfortunately, moves up his temple to brush a strand of hair back from Steve’s forehead. It’s a kind gesture and Steve wishes he could lean into the gentle touch.

But he can’t. He can’t let the wall crumble because Eddie would instantly know what it means.

Would know that, behind layers of pretentious confidence, Steve hides this vulnerable part of himself.

That there, locked away in his fragile heart, burns a small flame. A flame he tried to smother, that keeps flickering unrelenting.

Because every time Eddie looks at him, every time he smiles, every time they touch – it’s like gasoline to the flame, setting his insides ablaze.

Eddie’s hand retreats but the sensation on Steve’s face remains, hot and red. He knows he’s blushing, hopes he can blame it on the buzz from the weed.

   “Sometimes I wish-“ Steve realises too late that he said it out loud.

   “Wish what?” Eddie asks, curiously waiting for Steve to continue.

   “Sometimes I wish things were different.”

   “What would you change?”

    This right here, Steve thinks. You being so close but not close enough.

   “I’d change who I am.”

   “Who would you want to be, if you could choose?”

    Yours.

   “I’d want to be someone who’s brave.”

   “Pff, you’re literally the bravest person I know.” Eddie scoffs affectionately.

   “If I’m so brave, then why I am so scared?” Steve knows it’s more than he should confess, too much for Eddie not to keep digging.

   “Scared of what?” Eddie looks at him like he’s searching for the answer in Steve’s eyes, intense and pensive. And then he smiles, bright and warm and fond in a way that makes Steve’s heart stutter.

Inside him, the flame flares up, spreads heat from his heart through his veins and Steve knows, in that moment, this might be his only chance.

   “Scared of my feelings for you.”

Eddie kisses him and suddenly, everything does seem easy.

Kissing Eddie back is easy.

Leaning into his touch and holding him tight is easy.

Loving Eddie is easy.

Because it feels right.

It doesn’t matter what his parents will think of him if they know – this is right and it’s all he wants.

This is who he is underneath.

This is who he wants to be, openly and unafraid.

   “You don’t have to change, Stevie. You don't have to be anyone else. I love you just the way you are.”

And that, Steve realises, is more than enough.

[laswells-ashtray]

Absolutely need more Kate, Sarah, Eli and 141 content!!! All the interactions are just too cute 😭😭

Eli has several uncles, he has two mommies and several uncles. Even Alejandro and Rudy count as part of the army rallying behind this little boy, they know Kate. They hear about him and a few days later Sarah finds a package at their front door with a DC superhero blanket and a bunch of Batman figures and toys. Rudy's idea, it's what he would've liked when he was a boy.

Kate goes from Station Chief Laswell to Mommy when she gets home, he's running at her with sticky fingers from whatever slimy creation Eli and Sarah have made while she was gone and she's picking him up regardless. She can wash her shirt but eventually, Eli will get too big and independent for her to pick up. She cringes at the thought. Eli is a chatterbox if he's talking to Kate, he's telling her every little part of his day and she loves it.

Whenever she's gone for more than a day, she'll come back, and he'll be plastered by her side. Even if she goes to the bathroom, he'll wait outside for her because he misses her. She'll walk around the entire house holding his hand because he wants to spend time with his Mom. Sarah takes a photo of them, facing away from her and standing in the hall, Kate leaning down so she can hold Eli's hand without the little boy straining his arm. She gets it framed and put it on the wall in their house.

Sarah commits to the games she plays with Eli. She'll set up all of his stuffed dinosaurs around their living room and push him around on a little wagon and recreate Jurassic Park just without the dead people/. She'll fill a tank with water and drop letter magnets into it, so Eli can fish them out and then she'll help him spell out different words with them. It's good for his development.

If she's cooking then he wants to help, she's not gonna give a little boy anything that can hurt him but she'll add spices to a bowl and let him mix them so he can feel included. She'll let him help make Kate sandwiches and he'll insist on giving her a packet of cookies so she can also have a snack.

Nikolai and John are two different types of uncles. Nikolai is sitting Eli on his shoulders whenever they're outside and the little boy loves it. Nik will take him to the park and play with him the entire time, an old kid makes the mistake of pushing Eli, they take one look at Nikolai and run. He does not play about Eli Laswell. He introduces Eli to a couple easily made Russian dishes, buys him toys and once Kate makes the mistake of mentioning that Eli needs a new jacket, Nikolai buys him three so he has a variety. A nice jacket, an everyday jacket and a jacket like Nik's.

John is different if he's looking after Eli because he and Nik will whenever Kate and Sarah need it and they're available too, whether at Kate's hour or back home in the UK when the Laswells are visiting. He'll sit the boy on the couch with a blanket and put on a good movie for him to watch with whatever takeaway he ordered. Yes, Eli wears his hat. He buys Eli one of those abominable snowman plushies from Tesco at Christmas without thinking and it's only when he gets home does he rethink it. He doesn't know a lot about kids, would Eli even like it? Is he thinking too hard about it? Should he give it to the neighbour's kid and forget about it. In the end, he gives it to Eli and the boy adores it. He carries it around everywhere with him, John gets sent photos of the fluffy thing sitting at the dinner table, on the couch between Eli and Sarah, in the car and tucked under Kate's arm while she and Eli sleep on the couch.

When the Laswells decide to host the 141, Simon almost acts instinctively when he helps the boy cut up his food whenever he sees Eli falter. He'll lift him up to make it easier for Eli to grab a cup if he wants juice. If he sees Eli trying to carry multiple things at once then he'll take one from his hands and follow the boy to wherever he's going. Sometimes the boy will ask him to colour in his tattoos, Simon doesn't think twice before pulling up his sleeve and letting Eli decorate his arms in blues, pinks and purples.

Johnny will play action figures at any point in time with Eli, he's just waiting for the boy to ask. He'll come up with child-friendly stories for them both as Eli's Batman "beats up" Johnny's Superman. Hell, he finds some vintage Ninja Turtle figures and they find their way into Eli's toy chest. If any of them break, Johnny has them repaired as soon as he can. Whenever he sees Kate, he'll wait for the right moment to ask how Eli is doing and if she has any new photos of him. She does, she always does.

Kyle's brother works with kids, he took the childcare courses and when Kyle was at home, he'd help his little brother study. He knows more than the average person about child development. They know that Kate loves her son, as does Sarah but they can pick up on the fact that the both of them worry over Eli. They were thrown into parenthood with little preparation and that is a big thing for the best of people. So, Kyle is the first to reassure them that they're doing fine. he stands next to Kate as they watch Eli playing with Soap and makes a comment about how advanced Eli's language is for a boy of his age, it's impressive on their part. He recommends different activities and games to play with Eli that are good for his development.

Eli Laswell has a small army behind him and that boy grows up loved.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Kimmy did this to him, didn't she? She heard her uncle call him a bear while joking around with her mum in the kitchen, and in her childhood innocence, she gave him bear ears.

Your tags make me want to read Price getting to pat Nik. Please? 🥺

Nik's hair is a reflection of his character.

cw: none (partly inspired by a post by @panchulien with a young Nik and Price).

Price had realised he was obsessed with Nik's hair quite early on. When they had met, it had been a harsh buzz cut; a number two all the way over at the very longest, with a clean shaven jaw. It hadn't suited him. Not even in his blue uniform and cap. His eyes were too warm for the austere, minimalist impression the rest of him was trying to communicate. It was like his internal conflict had manifested in his physical appearance; the severe officer battling the warm-hearted Russian patriot.

After Price had "liberated" him, or rather, encouraged him to turn informant and cut his own path towards liberation, Nik had grown his hair out. Price remembered seeing him for the first time after freeing him from the detention centre in which his own government were going to execute him. Nearly a year had passed, and Nik's hair had grown into an unruly mane. Close to a mullet, but with erratic, thick black curls paired with roguish facial hair. He had reminded Price of a musketeer or a Renaissance poet. The sombre misery had been replaced by an almost manic charisma.

That had suited him. It set off the wildness in his eyes. But that wildness had manifested in other, more dangerous ways. Price and Nik had fed off of each other's anger and their penchant for violence in those early days. When they were on op together, their lack of boundaries had led them to dark places; Nik, without direction or purpose beyond point and shoot, and Price with a chip on his shoulder.

Price had watched those thick curls fall across a blood smeared face after Nik had beaten a man to death with his bare hands more than once, the crooked smirk that followed revealing a flash of something raw and in pain beneath the surface. They crossed lines, violated boundaries and codes of ethics, telling themselves it was for a higher purpose that not even they had much of a handle on.

Mac had tried to keep them apart. Had warned Price away and told him to get a grip. Dogs that bit the hand that fed them were put down eventually, one way or another. But Nik had been intoxicating. His rage completed and complemented Price's in the worst and best ways.

Nik needed to heal. They both did. It took years. Years of dancing around each other, of finding the limit of what they would do for the "greater good", working out what that even bloody meant in the first place. They carved out their own morality, separate from the hypocrisy of the institutions that had made them, and slowly, slowly, the rage, the bleeding wounds, inside Nikolai had healed. Price had fallen in love with that wild, uncontrollable maniac, and he had stayed in love with him once he had found enough peace to stop his own self-destruction.

Price sat across from him in the little boat they had hired for a tour down the River Oder. Nik had wanted to show Price Wrocław, the Venice of Poland. Twelve little islands connected by over a hundred little bridges, with one of the biggest markets in Europe. Nik had spent the morning dragging Price down side streets to find some of the three hundred odd little bronze gnomes scattered throughout the city. "To commemorate the Orange Alternative movement," Nik had explained, his big hands gesturing expressively towards the Gothic Town Hall, tone excitable and boyish, "they used absurdist humor to protest against communist rule in the eighties."

Nik was at peace now. Nearing his fiftieth birthday, his hair was receding into a deeper widow's peak, smoothed back and neat, with slight curls at the back and beneath his ears. His stubble flattered his jaw and Price liked raking his nails through it when they kissed. Not too wild, not too austere. A perfect balance that reflected the equilibrium in Nik's heart.

"John?" Nik asked, his eyebrows raised. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, comrade," Price said, flashing rueful smile. "Just thinkin' about old times."

"Ah." Nik scratched up his bare forearm to the fold of the sleeve at his elbow. "Well then," he picked up his glass of krupnik and Price did the same, "to old times."

"And all the good times to come, cheers." Price knocked back a mouthful of the liqueur and grimaced. "Jesus fuck, Nik, this shit is fockin' 'orrid." He tipped the remainder of the glass overboard. "Could murder a man for a decent stout."

Nik rolled his eyes. "You take the Englishman out of England, but..."

Price kicked his shin lightly. "Yeah yeah, Mr World Wide. I'm a simple man with simple tastes, not all of 'em good."

"Oh, I don't know," Nik hummed. "You are dating me after all."

And there, just for a moment, was a flash of that wild, curly-haired man that had stolen Price's heart in the first place in that devilish little grin on Nik's face, and Price's blood ran hot in his veins.