Fic: Don't Get Mad, Get Even
It's the same old story: boy meets boy, boy falls in love with boy, boy gets kidnapped by goons and rescued by his secretly-Bratva boyfriend, boy decides to play the part of spoiled Bratva wife to flush out the rest of their enemies. Tale as old as time, really.
~19k, E, fluff and smut and hurt/comfort and a little whump for good measure. Extremely background Roselana.
Thank you to @chaossmagic and @ilya-roza for putting up with my many, many messages about my writing process. <3
Title from, of course, "Vigilante Shit" by Taylor Swift.
“Great to see you, too, Rose. Can’t wait to meet your girlfriend!” Shane stuck out his tongue at his best friend as he and Hayden approached her outside the club. Rose shot him the bird, the silver sparkles of her strappy mini dress glinting under the streetlights.
“I told you to wear something nice!” Rose’s complaints didn’t stop her from accepting hello hugs from both of the boys. “Not your interview outfit!”
“This is something nice,” Shane said, pinching the white Oxford cloth of his shirt between two of his fingers. He had paired it with his black chinos and dress shoes, figuring they were dressier than jeans and sneakers. “And with my closet, it was this or no shirt at all.”
Hayden raised an eyebrow. “You know, that could work for you.”
“Fuck off.” Shane laughed and shoved Hayden’s shoulder. Hayden was also wearing a button-up shirt, but his was short-sleeved and olive green with a faint print - definitely more stylish than Shane’s. “Just because you met Jackie while you were both half-naked and covered in body paint-”
“Is this your whole party, Miss Landry?” A bald bouncer the size of a house cut in and unclipped the rope in front of the entrance, gesturing for the three of them to head inside. “Svetlana Sergeyevna is at your usual booth.”
“Thank you, Oleg.” Rose led their group into the converted warehouse and up a metal catwalk. Waist-high iron railings prevented anyone from leaning too far over and falling onto the dance floor below, while dark wood booths lined three of the walls. The fourth had a small bar, ensuring customers wouldn’t have to fight their way back downstairs just to get more drinks. Shane didn’t know much about nightclub design, but something about this one felt…welcoming. Intimate, despite the blare of techno and the flashing strobe lights.
“This place is something else,” Hayden muttered into Shane’s ear from behind. Shane was glad to have his suspicions confirmed, given that his nights were more frequently spent at the library or the campus gym. “I think they actually clean these floors regularly. My shoes haven’t stuck to the ground once.”
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