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madam-starfall · 1 year

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The Nakurim'ja

Chapter 1:

Emporium Origins

Fate has always been a funny thing. No one exists for the purpose they originally set out for. Nor do they expect where they end up at the end of their journey. But more importantly, the most unexpected part of fate are the fortunate meet ups that end up saving lives and changing the course of history. This story is about a group of people unaware of that fate. Soon they shall all embark together on a journey that takes them up against powerful spirits and masters of the undeath; but for now, it starts with a fortunate meet up.

We find ourselves at the town of Vaicrest. A humble village roughly four miles in diameter that made most of their profits off of lumber and farmland. It is one of the smaller, yet fairly well protected settlements this side of the Quartarius Empire. But our story truly starts a mile northeast of this settlement, at a little campsite of three of our humble adventurers. A man wakes up in his A-frame tent, and begins his day as he normally does. He checks his face to ensure his mask had not gotten loose in his sleep. This mask was that of a plague doctor with golden studs holding the milk colored foundation together. He took a deep breath of the aerosol formula inside the mask, thankful it was still keeping him alive. He makes sure the straps around his half-elven ears and the back of his head are on properly before checking his vitals, noting his still sickly green skin and the veins of blood that somehow had gotten an even darker shade of black.

He sighed, “Well, I suppose that is to be expected at this point.” as he donned his slippers and stepped out of his tent. He stretched his arms upwards as the morning breeze blew against his clothes, wrapping around his incredibly frail body. It was a wonder how he wasn’t blown away with it.

“Good morning Dr.Ike!” a young voice called out.

The doctor turned to see one of his traveling companions. A little girl was standing by a stump, throwing ingredients together into a clay mixing bowl. Her light pink, neck length hair had a bit of flour in it. As well has her small orange dress. Her skin was pale, so he wasn’t quite sure how much flour was on it. She gave Ike a smile and a cheerful look with the biggest, bluest eyes he had ever seen. She was also incredibly short, even for a human child. No more than three and a half feet tall. In fact, she had to make a small staircase out of her backpack and some of Dr.Ike’s books just to reach the bowl on top of the stump.

“Zumi, you’ve made a mess of yourself.”

Ike came over to her and put his open palm a few inches away from her. A small wave of dark green magic emitted from his hand as it cleaned Zumi’s hair and clothes.

“Also, I’d greatly appreciate it if you didn’t use my belongings in that manner.”

Zumi let out a small laugh, “Sorry. I didn’t want to get any dirt in the bowl and Mr.Malachi never taught me how to fly.”

“Well I’m sure Ms.Dooly would-.” He looked upward as he was talking only to see an empty hammock up in a tree, swaying in the wind.

“Where is Ms.Dooly?” Dr.Ike asked.

“Oh, Vinnie said she was gonna look around to make sure nothing dangerous was nearby and also grab some firewood to help me cook breakfast.”

“Well she shouldn’t be leaving you alone like this. Even if I was nearby.”

“Don’t worry Dr.Ike,” Zumi rolled up her long sleeves and flexed her nonexistent muscles, “I’m super strong! I can protect us.”

Ike let out a small chuckle, “Right, right. Of course you can.”

The doctor then set on an opposing stump and pulled out his spellbook and began to overlook it. He worked vigilantly to study new magic that would make the journey ahead easier, and he was on the breakthrough of something that was going to make setting up camp a breeze. Then after a while, he took out his atlas and tried to plot the next leg of their travels as Zumi continued to work on their mixing bowl.

“Alright,” said Dr.Ike, “If I’m correct, we should be able to reach Vaicrest before noon.”

“Sooner than that even,” said another voice from above.

The two would look up to see their other traveling companion, Vinnie, in the treetops. She was one of the most colorful and loud people Ike had ever seen. Her hood was pulled pack, showing her feline facial features. Her fur was light gray with black spots and her eyes were a piercing green. But of course, what stuck out about her most was her choice of clothing. Over her eyes was a pair of goggles with crystalline lenses, one pink, one purple. She had a necklace with what looked like a dragonoid’s tooth, but made of ruby. Her hood looked to be stitched from many different dark colored cloths and it was attached to a vest of purple colored leather armor. She wore dark green shorts and on a belt around her waist was a pistol, a dagger, and a set of tools in a pouch she used for tinkering her gadgets.

Vinnie dug her claws into the tree and used them to slide down safely. She was setting down a bundle of wood she had collected as Zumi ran over and hugged her leg saying, “Hey Vinnie! You’re just in time. Ike is up and I just finished the muffin mix.”

“Perfect,” Vinnie said as she clapped her paws together rapidly, “After we partake in muffin time, we can make our way to Vaicrest and supply ourselves.”

Vinnie spoke in a very thick and odd accent Ike had never heard before, Making it hard to tell where she was from.

“Ms.Dooly, glad to see you back from your scouting. You said we’d be there sooner. Were you able to see Vaicrest on your search?” Ike asked.

“Now doctor,” Vinnie said disconcerted, “I told you that you may call me Vinnie. We are friends, no?”

“My apologies. But could you answer my question please?”

“Ah, yes,” Vinnie said as she began setting up a campfire, “I was not able to see Vaicrest, but I came across wagon on trail west of here. Driver said that Vaicrest is one mile on trail southward.”

“Excellent,” said Ike, “The sooner we can visit a store the better.”

After Vinnie had set up the firewood, Zumi put a muffin tin on top of it and filled the holes with the batter. She then took a step back as Dr.Ike ignited the wood to bake it.

“Alright!” Zumi said excitedly, “I’ll be back, I just need to find the plates.”

As she ran to her tent, Dr.Ike leaned over to Vinnie.

“Just for the record, I am not comfortable with how you left her alone.”

“Oh doctor,” Vinnie said, “it is important to give freedom to improve her. It is how Vinnie grew up.”

“Yes, but she is still very young and anything can happen out here. I need your word that you will take more precaution.”

Vinnie put her hand on Ike’s shoulder, “Doctor, I promised to help you with her, and help I will. And for the record, she may be the more capable one out of the three of us at the moment. Don’t underestimate her.”

Meanwhile in a clearing half a mile west of Vaicrest, we come upon two individuals partaking in a duel. One was a human, roughly six feet in height. He was donned in dark leather armor and the top half of his head, including his eyes, was covered in a red bandana that contrasted with his fair skin. The other was a forest elf with terra-cotta like skin and short curly brown hair. He had a teardrop shaped mask with very narrow eye slits on his face that was slightly pulled down to cover his eyes. He also was wearing leather armor, but it had more earthy, forest-like tones to it. He and the human were wielding makeshift wooden swords out of shaved tree branches.

The elf took the first swing; but missed wide, giving the human time to whack him in the side. The elf tried again, but only for the human to parry and hit him in the shoulder.

“C’mon Eridor,” said the human, “in order for this to work, you have to get a feel for your surroundings.”

Eridor tries to stab forward with his branch, only to hit air as the human turns and lands another strike on Eridor’s waist. Then after he lets out a curse in Elvish, he lands his first hit of the match.

“Excellent,” the man said, “now this time, actually try to hit instead of swinging wildly.”

Eridor adjusted his mask so he could see through it again, “Drex, stop treating this like it’s a game!”

“Oh calm down Eri,” said a female voice from seemingly nowhere.

Suddenly Eridor’s shoulders ignited in flames. The flames continued to grow and stretch down his arms before wisping off of him into the air and taking the form of a small dryad creature. She looked humanoid, but was only three feet tall. Her skin was that of charred tree bark, with flames churning underneath. Her hair was made of red and orange flames and her eyes were like bright red coals. She wore a toga dress that was made out of smoldering leaves that went over her left shoulder. She floated about ten feet up and to the right of Eridor, looking down on him with a mischievous smile.

“I am not in the mood Hestia,” griped Eridor, “I’m trying to focus.”

“Oh relax Eri. I actually came out to help,” Hestia said as she floated downward and into Eridor’s face. “Because you’re not listening to Drex. You’re still trying to rely on your sight and that’s what is screwing you up right now.”

Hestia pulled Eridor’s mask slightly down again to cover his eyes and got behind, “Remember that you’re an elf. Not only do you have better eyes than humans, you also have better ears. So use them to develop this sense Drex is trying to teach you.”

Eridor let out an annoyed sigh as he got back in his stance. He waited for a moment, trying to take in the sounds. He then lunged forward to connect with Drex’s stick.

“Excellent,” said Drex, “keep it up.”

Eridor continued with hit after hit, each time connecting with Drex.

“Good, good,” Drex said with a smile, “now dodge.”

Drex spun around to Eridor’s side before smacking him in the mask. Eridor recoiled and fell on his back.

He sat back up, adjusting his mask so he could see again, “You son of a bitch! I’m starting to doubt you’re actually blind.”

Drex laughed, “You wouldn’t be the first.”

He tossed his stick aside and offered a hand to Eridor who reluctantly took it.

Hestia came back around, “So, how do you do it again?”

“Well part of it is what you said,” Drex explained, “but mostly it’s instinct. It’s almost like I can sense the tension in the air around me. I think Eridor’s biggest problem is that he is trying too hard. You need to give in to your instincts.”

Eridor was brushing the dirt off of him, “I don’t give into instincts. Not in that way.”

“Oh yeah,” Hestia started to say, “You should have seen it, Drex. The last time Eri did, he was-.”

Hestia was cut off suddenly as she turned back into wisps and pulled away, being recalled into Eridor’s outstretched hand and back into his body.

“Enough,” Eridor said bitterly, “Not another word Hestia.”

Hestia’s voice emanated from Eridor’s body, “Oh c’mon Eri. It wasn’t that bad.”

“Nah, it’s fine Hestia,” said Drex, “I’m not a fan of digging up painful memories either.”

Eridor started breaking down the campsite and grabbed his belongings, waiting for Drex to grab his as well.

“Let’s just hurry and get to town. The sooner the better,” said Eridor.

“And the sooner we can find some work the better,” replied Drex.

“We’re doing fine as is. And we can’t afford to be slowed down.”

“We can’t afford anything,” Drex complained. “I get that you have the whole nomad-survivor thing going on, but one: We are spending a lot of energy hunting for our food. And two:you said you would pay me for these lessons.”

“That was before I witnessed your teaching methods,” Eridor muttered under his breath as he started walking.

Drex began to follow and asked, “Did you say something?”

Eridor cleared his throat and turned to face him, “I said if you can find us a job that is worth more than twenty copper, I’ll gladly help you with it.”

A wagon travels down the northmost trail heading towards. It is being pulled by a young brown mare and hauls various grown produce and three individuals. The driver is a human man in his late sixties with short gray hair and most of his face hidden behind his large beard and thick eyebrows. He was wearing a long sleeve shirt and denim overalls. But what was far more noticeable were his passengers. In the back were two women who could not have stayed hidden in a crowd if they tried. One of them was a plump tiefling woman. Her skin was black like coal with vitiligo that caused parts of it to be the color of gold; and just as shiny and reflective. Particularly, part of the vitiligo covered two thirds of her right eye. Speaking of which, both of her eyes were a vibrant yellow that filled the entirety of their sockets. She had two ram-like horns coming out of her short, wavy blue hair that were black at the base and turned to gold at the point. Wrapped around her right horn was a purple feathered viper, sleeping soundly as she played a joyful tune on a small brown hurdy gurdy. She wore a dark leather vest, two frilly sleeves and light green shorts with dark blue leggings that went just above her knees, exposing her cloven hooves to the air.

Her traveling companion stood out just as much, if not more, than her. The most noticeable thing about her was her hair. She was a human with long, multi-colored hair tied back in a long braid. It seemed to have every hue of color you could think of. Her eyes also had a bizarre case of heterochromia. Everytime she blinked, they would change to different colors of the rainbow, but both eyes would never be the same color at the same time. Though in contrast, her skin was very pale. She had a stalwart body underneath a set of chainmail armor. And over that was a plain dark red shirt and pair of tan pants and black boots.

“Those are some lovely tunes madam,” said the old farmer.

The tiefling gave a big, toothy grin, “Thank you kindly.”

“Also, thank you again for taking us into town sir,” the rainbow woman said.

“Don’t mention it,” the old farmer replied. “I can’t thank you two enough for fending off those wolves the other night. And having such nice company on the road is always a treat. I just wish I could have given you a bit more coin for the road.”

“Not to worry,” chimed the tiefling with a grin, “once we get to Vaicrest and find a tavern for me to perform in, we’ll be better off.”

As if on cue, one of the strings on the hurdy gurdy snapped with a loud twang.

“Son of a bitch!” the tiefling blurted angrily.

“Woah, easy there Zashemi,” the rainbow woman had her hands up in a calming motion. “Try to relax now.”

“Relax?! How can I be calm when my baby is broken? This thing is practically my life blood, Bianca!”

“Now now,” the farmer turned to face the two of them, “don’t you worry. A good friend of mine runs the biggest general store in Vaicrest. Once y’all are done helping me unload my cart, head over to Dory’s Emporium and tell her that Jameson sent ya. I’m sure she will fix it up for free.”

Zashemi began to cradle her instrument, her tail wagging back and forth worriedly. Bianca put a hand on her shoulder and gave a friendly smile, “Hey, don’t worry. We’ll have you playing again within the hour.”

Just then, they came over a hill and were able to get a full view of Vaicrest. It was a beautiful sight. A rectangular wall surrounded the settlement of straight roads and brown tiled rooftops of various buildings. People could be seen bustling about like ants from where they were. And the two biggest sights were a large clocktower on one end of the town and an even bigger windmill on the opposite side of town.

As the cart pulled up to one the gate where two guards stood in attention. One of them came up to Jameson. She was a tall elven woman with tan skin and jet black hair pulled back in a ponytail wearing plate armor.

“Ah, Jameson. Good to see you again. I hope-,” the elf stopped talking as she noticed Zashemi and Bianca. She looked at Jameson and gestured to the two of them, “Friends of yours?”

“These two fine ladies helped save my cattle the other day and volunteered to help set up my stall in exchange for a ride into town. They’re good people Cass, I promise ya that.”

The elf looked them over before turning back to Jameson, “Alright, I’ll trust your judgment on this. Behave yourselves, and welcome to Vaicrest.”

Zashemi didn’t respond as she was still mourning over her hurdy gurdy.

“We will, and thank you,” said Bianca as the cart pulled past the gate.

Eridor and Drex were making their way through town, Eridor grumbling to himself over the encounter they had at the gate.

“I keep telling you need to stop wearing that mask all the time,” Drex chimed in.

“I am not in the mood for this Drex.”

“Yeah, you’re kind of beating a dead horse,” Hestia’s voice emanated from Eridor’s body. “He hasn't taken it off in almost a year. So save your breath.”

“I’m just saying that we wouldn’t have the guards in this town ready to arrest us if he didn’t look like a bandit with that mask on.”

“I do not!” Eridor protested. “You look more like a bandit than I do with the way you cover your eyes.”

“Yeah, but I don’t mind showing the rest of my face to the guards to prove that I’m blind and not a threat to the town. You haven’t even really given me a reason why you keep it covered.”

“Let’s just hurry and find a place where we can buy you a whetstone so we can move on,” Eridor said as he scanned the streets.

It took a few minutes of looking, but he spotted one of the larger buildings in town. It was a one story brick building, but built much longer than the houses nearby. It had a large wooden sign on the front that read ‘Dory’s Emporium’ and posters on the front wall about the variety of items on the inside.

“C’mon, think I found something.”

“You found a blacksmith already?” asked Drex.

“A general store, I think. No harm in looking,” he said as he walked into Dory’s with Drex following behind.”

Dr.Ike was hurriedly following behind Vinnie who had Zumi riding piggyback on her. Vinnie was making her way through Vaicrest, glancing at various different establishments before continuing on her way with her company in tow.

“Really now Ms.Dooly,” Dr.Ike said trying to catch his breath, “I trust your judgment, but are you giving enough time to examine these businesses?”

“Not to worry Doctor, Vinnie knows what she is looking for. It is best to get everything needed from one location. If there is nowhere like this, Vinnie has already kept track of which stores are where and what we will get from them.”

Zumi wasn’t talking much. She was preoccupied by taking in the sights. It had been a while since she was in a town this big and she loved seeing all the different kinds of people. It almost reminded her of her hometown. She had a big smile on her face as she was absorbing everything Vaicrest had to offer. But then something caught her eye.

“Hey Vinnie!” Zumi grabbed and turned Vinnie’s head, “How about that one?”

Vinnie was turned to face Dory’s Emporium and she smiled, “Perfect! Well done Zumi.”

The three of them headed onto the porch of Dory’s and Vinnie stopped and took Vinnie off of her back and set her down.

“Would you like to wait out here, Zumi, or come inside?” Vinnie asked.

“Oh, can I stay out here? I wanted to draw some stuff for Mr.Malachi.”

“Just remember to come inside if you see anything dangerous,” said Ike, “but we shouldn’t be too long.”

And with that, the two went inside. The emporium was quite large. There were ten aisles going down the left side with various goods of all kinds and a large counter to the right that had a dwarven woman behind it. She was standing on something so almost her whole body could be seen while she was manning the counter. She had a mess of ginger hair and a beard made up into eight braids going down the front of her olive skin face. The two of them approached her as she looked up from her work.

“Well hello there,” she greeted them. “Welcome to m’store. Watchya lookin for?”

Ike pulled out a vial of ink from his coat, “Do you perhaps have any of this, as well as some finely made parchment?”

Dory leaned forward, looking at the ink, “Oh, your one of them wizard folk? From your get up, I thought you were here for a scythe.” She laughed to herself before pointing towards the back of the store, “You’ll find’em near the end of aisle four.”

Dr.Ike headed towards the back as Vinnie stayed up front and began having a casual conversation with Dory.

After waving goodbye to Jameson, Bianca and Zashemi started making their way in the direction he pointed them towards Dory’s store. Bianca had finally gotten Zashemi to relax about the broken string, but then something happened while they were helping with Jameson’s stall. The second they finished and were told where to go, Zashemi started power walking in that direction.

Bianca called out, “Zashemi! Slow down, what is going on?”

“I had a little epiphany while we were unloading stuff. I think I know why my string broke.”

“Because you played it too much?”

Zashemi stopped walking and sighed, “No. I think it has to do with the reading I did this morning.”

Bianca looked down as she pinched the bridge of her nose. The entire time she has known her, Zashemi has done a tarot reading every morning. And this morning was no different.

“Zashemi, not that I’m trying to judge, but aren’t those things just superstitions?”

“That’s rather ironic coming from you. Isn’t believing in gods superstitious?”

“Hey!” Bianca growled,” It’s not superstition, it’s called faith!”

“Exactly. You have faith in your god. I have faith in my cards.” Zashemi turned and kept walking in the direction of Dory’s store, “My cards told me this morning that we would receive great fortune today. And since this shop is a last minute inclusion, I’m expecting to find it there.”

As the two of them turned the corner, they were able to see Dory’s Emporium. But they also saw something that put them on edge. Six individuals, all wearing leather armor while wielding shortswords and crossbows, were making their way up to the door.

“I don’t think your cards are right about this.”

Inside the store, the doors are suddenly slammed open as these individuals force their way in. Shoppers freeze in place as the front of the store now fills with this dangerous looking group.

The bandit in front wearing a red handkerchief over his mouth approaches the counter, “Alright lady, just stay right there if you know what’s good for you.” He pointed his crossbow at Dory behind that counter. Seeing this, Vinnie wanted to go for her gun; but knew the second she did, then she would be the one hit with an arrow. Just then, a loud CRACK was heard by the entrance. Everyone turned to see Bianca, the end of her whip around one of the bandit’s neck.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll drop your weapons,” said Bianca just before she pulled the whip up with the bandit and slammed it down, knocking the crook prone on the ground.

Zashemi had just entered behind her with a rapier in hand, “Damn girl, you go hard when you get mad.”

After seeing this, a lot of the bandits started lowering to the ground just before their leader spoke up again.

“What the hell are you doing?! It’s just some-.”

“I suggest you do what the rainbow lady says,” Vinnie said with her pistol now pointed at the back of the head of the bandit captain.

With this distraction, Eridor and Drex who were in the store struck as one against the bandit wearing a green bandana. Eridor aimed high as Drex struck low, causing the green clad bandit to fall unconscious immediately.

“God damnit!” shouted the leader as he aimed his crossbow at Eridor and fired. The bolt hit Eridor’s shoulder, but as it did, the impact seemed lessened somehow. He looked at the bolt as saw it had an odd silver glow to it. Eridor looked back up and saw Dr.Ike with his hand outstretched. Ike moved his hand and that silvery energy flew across the room into Vinnie’s gun.

“A little extra energy for your shot, Ms.Dooly.”

“Why thank you Doctor.”

During all of this, the bandit that Bianca had knocked to the ground managed to get out of her whip and moved behind her, with his sword at her throat.

“That’s it, all of you drop your weapons, now!” ordered the bandit.

“No!” shouted a voice from the door.

Just then, the bandit that was threatening Bianca tensed up as an odd purple lightning arced around his body. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell to the ground with a thud, revealing Zumi, her hands crackling with power.

“Zumi?!” exclaimed Ike, “What in god's name are you doing!?”

“You said if there was danger then to come inside.”

“Well not in this scenario!”

One of the bandits, wearing an orange bandana, used this opportunity to try and strike at Ike. Fortunately he managed to duck just in time and the sword struck a shelf full of different baking powders that dispersed into the air. Bianca moved forward and with another crack of her whip struck him in the chest. From the point where it hit him, vines started growing from his armor that wrapped and entangled around him to the point he couldn’t move.

“Three down, three to go,” Bianca whispered to herself.

The last two bandits, each one wearing a yellow and blue bandanna respectively, fired their crossbows at Bianca. One of them hit her in the side and the other sank in between her shoulder blades.

“Nice shot boys,” said the leader who was then immediately shot in the leg by Vinnie.

Vinnie tried to bring her dagger down on him, but he intercepted it with his crossbow, putting them into a stalemate.

“Alright,” Zashemi spoke up, “I think it’s time for the rest of you to calm down.”

Zashemi started whistling a tune. It seemed to be a lullaby of sorts. But it was almost as if it was releasing energy into the air. Then, one by one the last of the bandits fell unconscious. She gave a quick bow for her impromptu performance.

“Wow, way to go Zash,” said Bianca, “but, couldn’t you have done that from the beginning?” Bianca winced as she tried to pull the bolt from the side of her body.

“Please,” Dr.Ike stepped forward,” allow me.”

Quickly, and with little pain, Ike pulled both the bolts from Bianca and inspected her wounds.

“You’re lucky these weren’t poisoned,” he said. “These are serious wounds though. Luckily I have some bandages with me. If we can get your armor off, then I could-.”

“Allow me actually,” Eridor interrupted.

As he stepped forward, his right hand ignited in flames.

“Now wait just a moment,” said Ike a little panicked, “there’s no need to be so hasty!”

Bianca tried to step away from Eridor as his hand came in contact with her. She braced for the pain, but there wasn’t any. The fire in his hand was warm, rather than hot. And it was a comforting heat. She could feel that heat growing throughout her body, and as his hand pulled away and the flames went out, she felt much better.

Ike looked at the wounds again to see only dark bruises, “Well, that’s impressive.”

“Don’t mention it,” said Eridor.

“Well at the very least, allow me to help with that.”

Ike pointed to the bolt stuck in Eridor’s shoulder. He grabbed it and pulled it out.

“Ow!”

“Oh, my apologies. Perhaps I could have done that a bit smoother.”

Bianca let out a small laugh, “Well here, as my thanks.”

She put a hand on Eridor’s shoulder and a small golden light emitted from her palm. When she pulled her hand away, the hole in Eridor’s shoulder was completely healed.

“Huh,” said Eridor, “impressive yourself.”

“Thank you.”

Noise could be heard from outside as four of the town’s guards came into the store and began to overlook the scene.

One of the guards, a human man in his late forties, came up and looked at Eridor and Drex saying, “You two.”

“Please tell me that wasn’t directed at us,” Drex groaned.

“Men, arrest those two first before gathering the fallen ones.”

“What?!” Eridor yelled.

Bianca stepped in the way of the two guards pulling their cuffs out, “Now hang on a second, what are they being charged with?”

“We were told to be on the lookout for these two in case they caused any trouble. They haven’t even been here a day and tried to make out with a robbery. So they are coming with us.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it!” Dory shouted as she hopped over her counter and started approaching the guard.

“Don’t worry Dory, you can take your anger out on them once we have them in the stocks.”

“My problem is with you ya daft bastard,” Dory jabbed a finger at the guard’s chestplate. Despite being half his size, she was by far more threatening. “These two along with their friend’s ‘ere are the ones who took ‘em out, and I’ll be damned before I see ya go puttin’ an innocent person in irons.”

“Yeah!” Zumi protested, “They were fighting the bad guys. You can’t arrest them.”

The guard was struggling to find his footing, “Now look-.”

“If it’th all the thame to you thir,” a new voice was saying, “I’ll take it from here.”

A tall elven man walked out from one of the back aisles. He had dark gray skin as well as a very slim and handsome face. His platinum blonde hair was tied back in an intricate braid and his dark green eyes seemed to be scanning every person in the room. He was adorned in a magnificent purple robe with black trimming. The only thing that seemed to be a little off putting was the fact that some of his teeth were missing, including his two front ones.

Three of the guards seemed to recognize him, but the one leading the charge did not.

“Excuse me,” the guard said, “just who the hell do you think you are?”

“Perhapth thith will anthwer that for you.”

The drow reached into his robe and pulled at a gold medallion the size of his palm. Inscribed on it was a star made out of five arms, each one holding a different item in its hand. A sword, an open book, a cluster of berries, a quill, and an orb of some sort. The guard recognized it immediately, as did Dr.Ike and Zashemi. The drow was holding the symbol of the Bergstrom Council, the most powerful and influential group of people on the continent.

“Yes, of course sir,” the guard stammered before turning to his men. “Get the brigands off the ground and in irons.”

The guards all dragged the bandits outside; and soon after, many of the other customers decided to vacate the building as well. Leaving the new group alone with their new elven acquaintance.

“Well Trin,” said Dory breaking the silence, “I didn’t even notice ya when you entered. What in the hell happened to yer face?”

The elf sighed, “Hello to you too Dory. Blunt ath ever I thee.”

“Pardon,” Vinnie said, raising her hand slightly, “Greatly confused here. Who are you, exactly?”

He put his hand over his heart and gave a little bow, “Arcanist Trindal’thor. Member of the Bergthtrom Counthil.”

The recognition spread to the rest of the group as they all looked at one another.

“And what did you mean by ‘you’ll take it from here’?” Eridor asked accusingly.

Drex elbowed him, “He just kept us out of jail, show some respect.”

Trindal’thor raised his hand, “It’th alright. I admire your caution young elf. I also admire your group here. Your thynergy was quite remarkable. I said I’ll take it from here becauth I would like to hire your little team.”

“Well I hate to break it to you, but we aren’t a team,” Eridor opposed, “I only know this one, and not for that long.”

“I only know this one as well sir,” Bianca put a hand on Zashemi’s shoulder.

“Even more imprethive,” Trindal’thor put his hands together, “You all managed to thubdue them in a matter of thecondth. Thpeaks highly to what you can be capable of when truly coordinated.”

“Not interested,” Eridor stated bluntly before he took a few steps towards the door.

A small smile crept across Trindal’thor’s face, “I’ll pay eighteen hundred gold pieces.”

Eridor stopped in his tracks and spun around. It was impossible to read his face behind the mask, but it was easy to assume it held the same disbelief that was now on everyone’s face.

“Each. I’ll pay two hundred now, and thixteen upon completion.” Trindal’thor finished as he looked for a response.

Zumi was counting on her fingers, “That’s a lot of hundreds.”

“Deal!” Hestia shouted.

Everyone recoiled in surprise as Hestia flew out of Eridor in a burst of flames and got into Trindal’thor’s space sticking her hand out, “You got a deal Trin!”

“Hestia!” barked Eridor.

“Nuh-uh Eri,” Hestia sneered. “You told Drex that if we found a job that paid more than twenty copper that you would take it.”

Drex chuckled, “She’s got you there.”

Eridor let out a sigh of defeat, “Fine, we’re in.”

“Exthellent, that’s two, or rather three,” Trindal’thor turned to the rest of the group, “And you all?”

“Hell yeah!” screamed Zashemi.

“It would be an honor, sir,” Bianca bowed.

Vinnie looked to Ike, “Any objections, Doctor?”

“None whatsoever.”

“Woo hoo! New adventure!” Zumi jumped with joy.

Trindal’thor clapped his hands together, “Wonderful. Perhapth we should move this thomewhere more comfortable in order to dithcuth what you will be doing. Come along, I know a very nice tavern clothe by. Shall we?”

#d&d #dnd #5e #fantasy #original story #Nakurim'ja #chapter 1 #long post

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mrsarnasdelicious · 3 years

Text

Tis a Wild Universe [BMFM Fic]

Warning: Self Insert and artistic liberties!

Yes, this is probably a dead/dying fandom, but I will never let it go. So yeah … I am probably talking to a wall with this fic. Which is fine by me, as long as I can talk.

Charley’s cousin is in dire need of some help, which the bro’s are willing to provide. Especially Modo develops the feels for her. Limburger is interested in the girl for entirely other reasons, especially in using her against our Hero’s. But eventually Limburger and also the bro’s go back to Mars, taking along two human women and a few plant species to revitalize the red planet. The war wages on and it seems Throttle is finally taking his role at the helm of the ship.

Ch 1: Fins that reach far

Bring bring, bring bring. “The phone’s ringing!” Vinnie yells. “I ain’t deaf Vincent, only rather occupied.” Throttle hollers in return. “I’ll get it, I’ll get it.” Modo gets up, throwing his polishing rag over the handlebars of his bike. He walks over to the phone. “Last Chance Garage, this is Modo Maverick, what may I help you with?” The big fella is polite as ever. The man on the other end of the line asks for Charlene Davidson. “I will hand her the phone, one moment please.”

Modo walks over to Charley. “It is for you Charley ma’am.” He says. Charley wipes her hands on a rag and takes the phone from Modo.

Naturally the mice are curious, but Charley walks away from them.

“She looked sort of .. troubled. I hope it is nothing serious.” Throttle says. “We should leave her alone for a while. Let’s see what Fishlips is up to. Chi-town is unusually quiet this week.” Modo adds. “Yeah I need some action!” Vincent says. “Then we check on the big fish.” Throttle nods. “But our bikes are in .. maintenance mode.” Vinnie hangs his ears. “We’ll take the bus.” Throttle says. He dons his nukeknucks glove and lowers his shades for better vision. “Bro’s it is time for a calmer sort of rock and ride.” Modo chuckles.

But just as the mice are about to go to the door, Charley returns into the garage. She has tears in her eyes. “Charley girl!” Vinnie rushes over to her. Charley wails and presses herself against the white furred martian. Modo and Throttle come over as well. The three friends enclose their human companion, holding her while she cries. “It’s alright Charley babe.” Throttle cooes sweetly. Charley sniffles and shakes her head. “No boys, not this time.. I was just called about my sister… She passed away, along with her husband and youngest daughter.. And somehow...” Charley lets out another loud wail. “Yes, somehow?” Throttle encourages her. “Somehow my other sister wants to give full custody of my one surviving niece to … To Lawrence Limburger!” The mice can see the anger in Charley’s green eyes. “Well, now we know why the Big Cheeze was so docile the past week.” Vinnie says. “He is in England, preying on my niece.” Charley hisses.

“But what would he want with an innocent little girl?” Modo asks. “Tessa is not a little girl anymore. She’s University age now. Last time I spoke to her over skype.. That was half a year ago .. She said she did freelance translating. French, German and Latin. She ain’t stupid. But she has no idea who Limburger is. And she hates her other aunt.” Charley dries her tears. “We need to go to Colchester, ASAP.” The spice is back in her voice. “Colchester, is that in France?” Vinnie asks. “No, England. I’ll need to use my savings to book us tickets to the UK. And I’ll need to call Tessa, to let her know that we will be coming.” Charley wrings away from the martians and runs to her computer.

“We had best get packing. To the scoreboard, bro’s.” Throttle says.

~ ~ ~

The following morning, Charley and the mice have boarded the plane to the continent of Europe.

The mice are not happy. Their bikes had to stay behind in Chicago. The mice don’t like leaving their bikes behind. It feels very unsafe. But they don’t want to let Charley go on her own. Not to mention they are itching to meet Tessa.

“What happened to your sister anyway?” Throttle needs to make small talk to break the tension. “She and her husband got into a car crash. Their youngest was also in the vehicle.” Charley answers. “All the more reason to prefer bikes.” Says Modo. Throttle can’t help but chuckle a little. Vincent, however, remains silent, which is of course rather odd. “Vinnie what is the matter?” Modo asks his white furred friend. “I don’t know bro, I just feel like we won’t, ya know, blend in in Clutchester.” Vinnie replies, gazing out of his small round window. “Colchester.” Charley gently corrects.

Throttle thinks on the matter for a little bit. “Vincent has a point. The windy city has bikers enough. Colchester is very different.” He says. He exchanges a look with both Charley and Modo. Charley is thoughtful, Modo rather insecure, which the tan martian recognises by the narrowing of Modo’s sole slitten pupil. The big mouse’s tail swishes a little. Throttle nudges his tall brother in arms. “Don’t worry bro, I read that the UK is a cesspool for the strange and unique. Maybe we just fit right in.” He says. “You read?” Charley frowns at the leading mouse. “I do have to know a few things about the stage before we ride into battle. Being caught unawares is very lacking. I wasn’t Stoker’s successor for shits and giggles.” Throttle seems a bit irked by Charley’s surprise.

~ ~ ~

They take a taxi cab from the airport to a very decent looking house in Colchester. A strict looking woman is waiting on the front porch.

Charley swallows audibly. Modo takes Vinnie’s suitcase, so that Vinnie can take their terranean friend by the hand to give her confidence. Charley looks at her three friends. “That is my older sister Syl...” She muttered. “Syl does not like me, or Tessa, for that matter.” She looks like she dreads talking to her sister.

The mice get why when Syl meets them on the steps of the porch. “What did you have to sell to be able to afford four plane tickets, Charlene.” Her voice is sharp and mean. Modo’s eye lights red. This sour old hag is not allowed to insult his friend. Throttle puts a hand, with activated nukeknucks, mind you, against his chest. The amplified power is needed to hold Modo back. “Not now, big fella.” The leader whispers. “I am not here for you Sybil. I am here for Tessa.” Charley says. She is very well capable of standing up for herself. “She is inside.” Syl’s nose scrunches rather unattractively. “Then we will be there too.” Charley marches past her older sister. The mice follow her without looking at Syl a second time. Charley opens the front door. “It has been a while since I’ve been here last. They redone the place, I see.” She mumbles. “It isn’t much different from how we used to live, Save from the fact we prefer to use stone instead of wood.” Throttle comments.

Charley trails into the kitchen. Throttle and Modo put down the suitcases and the mice follow her.

Modo is last to enter the kitchen. But he stops in the door frame, frozen and dumbfounded in his tracks. He suddenly begins to understand what Vinnie finds so interesting about Charley. The girl standing at the counter makes all of his thoughts fade out. He’s never felt like stopping in his tracks for another individual before. Of course stopping for someone in need or in order not to drive someone over is entirely different. Modo thinks to himself that this must be how Throttle felt when he first saw Carbine.

They had only just graduated the academy, Throttle with flying collars, Vinnie only barely. They had been as old as 17. And the war with Plutark had only just been admitted to be true. It was before Stoker had grounded the Freedom Fighters. It was before Mars was sold. They were young and sick of practising their aim on sandraiders. They joined the army. At the same time as a certain Carbine Canonball. She was spicey and perky. Modo was polite and Vinnie showie, as usual. But Throttle, usually so cool and collected, looked like he had his foot in his mouth. He was awestruck and dumbfounded and so was Carbine.

The young woman is short and gently curved. Her hair is red as the fur of a fox. Her pale face is littered with freckles, even on her lips and the lids of her eyes. She wears a skinny black, torn up jeans, a green tanktop and a white hoody. Her ears are pierced in multiple places and her bottom lip once. She wears a necklace with a wolfhead pendant. She looks up at Modo. His heart sinks into his boots. Her eyes are unbelievably blue.

“H-hello, ma’am.” Modo sputters. She approaches him with the elegance of a panther. There is an unfamiliar tightening in Modo’s trousers. His cheeks heat up and he thanks all his lucky stars that he has fur to cover it up. “Hello sir, my name is Tessa Lockheart.” She extends her hand for him to shake. Instead Modo decides to use his good hand to bring hers up in order to kiss her knuckles. ”My name is Maverick, Modo Maverick.” He tries to sound as sultry as he can.

Charley rolls her eyes. “He watches too much James Bomb.” She says. Tessa giggles softly. “I think it is kinda cute.” She says softly. “Just wait until the helmet comes off. She’ll know I am muuuch cuter.” Vinnie says. Without an ounce of hesitation, Modo removes his helmet. Throttle and Vinnie follow suit. Tessa is shocked, but recovers very quickly. “Miss Tessa, allow me to explain. We are the Biker Mice From Mars. Martian Cave Mice, to be precise. My name is Throttle Davidson.” The tan leader extends his hand. Tessa takes it and they shake on it. Vinnie butts Throttle aside. “Lovely to meet you sweetheart. I am the baddest motorcycle mama jama on all o’ Mars. The name is Vincent van Wham. But you can call me Uncle Vinnie.” He winks and gives Tessa a crushing hug. Charley turns red as a beet. “Green next!” Tessa giggles.

“You took our little reveal surprisingly well.” Throttle says. “This is Englands and we are an hour drive away from London, anything is possible here. Plus, I have my own … secret.” Tessa replies. “But that’ll have to wait until the old dug up banshee went to her hotel.” She seems to softly growl.

“She has a hotelroom?” Rage appears in Charley’s eyes. “She doesn’t want to be alone with me after dark. I dine and sleep in solitude.” Tessa sighs, looking disappointed. Modo’s eye lights red. “You are all alone at night?” He asks. Tessa nods, but gives him a confused look. “Easy big fella. If Limburger wanted to get to her, the old woman wouldn’t have stopped him, even at day time..” Throttle tries to soothe his friend. “Limburger … The fat man in the suit?” Tessa asks. The mice nod. “He smells like rotting dolphin tar.” She scrunches her nose adorably. “Yeah … The Big Cheeze did not invent showers.” Vinnie says. “Is he..?” Tessa is reluctant to finish that sentence. “He is our, as you could call it, Arch Nemesis. He usually wreaks havoc in Chicago. His race wiped out most of ours. He’s from Plutark. They are … fish like.” Throttle explains. He leans in to lightly tap Tessa’s forehead with his antennas. He shows her how the Plutarkians wrecked Marks. A single tear rolls down her cheek. Throttle catches it. “Such pure heart.” He says softly.

Sybil comes into the kitchen. The fact that the three mice don’t even startle her is very worrying. “Did you already find a hotel? Or are you unable to afford that?” She sneers at Charley. Tessa snarls like a wild beast. “They will stay here. Feel free to piss off to your hotel.” She bares her teeth, showing her sharp and elongated canines. Sybil backs off, her eyes wide. Tessa barks and Sybil stumbles away. “Now bugger off.” Tessa says. Sybil leaves in a hurry.

“I wonder how she met Limburger.” Throttle says thoughtfully. “And how she convinced the court a twenty year old needs a legal guardian.” Charley adds. “Both are worrying issues, but can we save it for later, I need a nap.” Vinnie stifles a jawn. “Let me show you the guest room.” Tessa says. She leads her guests to the first floor. She gestures to the large guestroom. “One queen and a fold out couch. I sleep across the hall in my parent’s room.” She says. She holds herself so strong, even when grief turns her eyes watery.

Charley hugs her niece. Both women still refuse to break. Even when the three Martians join the embrace. “It is okay to cry.” Throttle whispers.

The mice know their fair share of losing. Modo and Vinnie lost their fathers in the war. Throttle’s father is a prisoner of the Plutarkians. Modo’s brother in law, Rimfire’s dad, Rover Refton died after brutal torture at the hands of Dominic T Stilton. Vinnie’s older brother Welder is left with severe PTSD. And Throttle’s brother and sister are both lost. Nobody knows where Harley has gone and only Mother Mars knows if that rat killed Mace. Yes, the heroic trio also has scars on their soul, which influences the way they act, at times. It is true that centuries of war with the rats and the sandraiders have engraved a durability into the DNA of the Martian Cave Mice. But the war against Plutark has been taxing, even by Martian Standards.

Yes, Vinnie has always been rather hyperactive and a rush chaser. But to cope with the death of his comrades and relatives and the destruction of his brother’s mind, he’s become an outright adrenaline junky. He’ll get trembles when there is no rush to be had and has an attention span of a terranean gerbil. Modo, gentle giant he is and always has been, does his best to uphold the values his grey furred old mommah has taught him and the duty his black furred late pops has charged him with. He fights with honor and treats those around him with valor. But in his heart there is a lot of fear, insecurity and anger. His temper runs hot rather quickly. He might also be susceptible to bouts of depressive emotion. Throttle, on who’s broad shoulders rests the responsibility of the Martian liberation, also feels the burden of guilt. The guilt of leaving Mars behind to make sure Earth does not become part of the conflict. His heart is empty and insecure for his family as well as for his lady love. He might be prone to melancholy at times, but so far he is the most resilient. But none of them have ever hidden their emotions. Even though they are the manliest of martian men. Because they have been raised with the idea that their emotions are a manifestation of the sacred. And to always let them show to those closest to your heart.

But Charley and Tessa keep their tears in. Because it feels to them this is not the time yet to cry.

Charley leans into Vinnie’s chest and heaves a sigh. Tessa looks up at Throttle. He gives her a gentle nod. Tessa closes the embrace on her aunt. She is keeping it together still. Throttle gently gives her shoulder a squeeze. Tessa heaves a sigh as well. “Thank you guys. But this is just the beginning.” Charley gently lets go of the embrace. “We’ll get some rest.” She says. Throttle nods and gestures to the guest room.

Tessa leaves, heading down the stairs. “Poor girl, about to be alone in this wild universe...” Throttle open the door to the guest room. “No way bro, she’s got us.” Modo flaxes his bionic fingers, showing his agitation and determination. “Do you think what I am thinking?” Vinnie sits on the side of the bed and takes off his boots. “That you are in dire need of new socks?” Throttle pulls the lever on the side of the couch, while peering at the numerous holes in Vinnie’s socks. Vinnie snorts. “Yeah, that too … but about Lil’ Red.” He replies. “Is it Little Red already?” Charley asks. Vinnie nods. Throttle spreads a blanket over the sleeping couch and sits down to take off his boots. “Your family is ours, Charley girl. Plus, Limburger is keen to get her in his cheesy fins. Keeping her close is the best way to make sure she remains safe.” He says. Modo flicks his tail. “She will come to Chicago with us.” His voice is almost demanding. Charley looks up at him. “We will have to take Syl to court, though.” She tells him. “We will, if that is what it takes!” Modo replies. After a few hours of sleep, it is the grey mouse that awakens from his nap first. He smells roasting meat and his mouth starts to water. He slowly gets up from the couch. Throttle stirs, but doesn’t wake up. Vinnie and Charley, on the bed, notice nothing. On socked feet, in his pj bottoms, Modo leaves the room. He silently closes the door behind himself. He toes down the hall and stairs.

He finds the ground floor cloaked in silence, so deliciously devoid of Vinnie’s snoring. He smiles despite the direness of the reasons he is here. He is well aware that Tessa must be hurt, traumatized and probably scared, but he is happy to have met her and to be in her presence.

A few minutes alone with her is just what he is looking for. He finds her in the kitchen, her back turned to him. Modo tiptoes over. “How was your nap, Mr. Maverick?” Tessa asks, her voice innocent and sweet. She does not turn to him. Modo gapes at her, his jaw hanging slack. “Now now, no need to be so surprised.” Tessa giggles. Modo does his best to compose himself. “H-how did you know?” He stutters. “Chemosignals.” Tessa turns to him. “Everyone has their own scent and every emotion it’s own signals.” She has to crane her neck to be able to look at him. Modo feels flustered again. Her blue eyes just seem to suck him in, so much. His self consciousness is starting to rear its ugly head. Thoughts like I should have showered and I should leave her alone shoot through his head. He flicks his tail nervously. Tessa puts her hand on his arms. His hair stands on end, making him look rather fluffy. Tessa giggles again. “You smell nice, Modo...” She cooes, ever so sweetly. Modo has to look away from her, because he feels like he would do foolish things if he’d keep looking at her.

“Would you like something to drink?” Tessa asks him softly. Modo, who feels positively parched, especially with all the over thinking he has been doing in the few minutes he has only been in her presence. “What would you like?” She draws open the fridge. “Got any root beer?” Modo sits down at the kitchen table. “No, I am sorry...” Tessa shakes her head. “I have actual beer, though, and wine. I also have cider, cola, ginger ale and cream soda.” She says. Modo tries to hide his disappointment, but his ears start to hang. “I’ll have cream soda… Never had that before.” He mumbles. Tessa nods and pours him a glass. “Enjoy luv.” She cooes. Modo feels his heart skip a beat.

Throttle is downstairs after a little while too. He’s taken the time to put his trousers back on, but didn’t feel like wearing his vest. He’s bunning up his hair as he walks into the kitchen. “There you are big fella.” He puts his hands on Modo’s shoulders. Modo looks up at him. “Missed me?” He asks teasingly. “Of course, I will always miss the brethren I ride with, when they are not in sight.” Throttle takes the chair beside his grey furred friend. “So, what is cooking, good looking?” He says, good natured. “Stew.” Tessa answers, pouring Throttle a glass of cream soda too. “I can only hope she is as good a cook as your ma, Modo.” Throttle grins and takes the cream soda from Tessa. “Thank you Tessa girl, so sweet.” He says gently. Tessa smiles softly. “Yeah, my grey furred ol’ mommah’s cooking, now there is somethin’ I miss.” Modo sighs softly.

Vinnie and Charley come down as well. “What does my beady little nose smell!” Vinnie singsongs. “Tessa’s specialty.” Charley replies. “Specialty huh, I am eager for a taste.” Vinnie jogs over to the stove, lifting the lid off of the pan. Hot steam hits him right in the face, causing his face mask to haze over. “Ouch.” He slams the lid back onto the pan. “Be careful you.” Charley gives him a little yank on his tail. “Hey, careful with the merchandise, sweetheart.” Vinnie whines.

“Come on you two, sit down, let me do the work.” Tessa says. “You are my guests after all.” She nudges Charley towards a chair. Her aunt sighs and plops down. Vinnie sits in the chair beside her. “Wine?” Tessa asks Charley. Charley nods. Tessa pours her a glass of sweet red and Vinnie a glass of cream soda. “Shouldn’t you get yourself something to drink too?” Modo asks. “I have tea.” Tessa sits down at the table, a warm mug with fragrant tea. Throttle heaves his glass. “To Mars, bro’s.” He hollers. “To Mars!” Modo and Vinnie echoes. They clang their glasses together and upend the contents into their mouth. Vinnie belches loudly. Modo belches louder. Immediately after he realizes that wasn’t the most gentlemanly thing to do in front of Tessa. “Pardon me ma’am.” He says, hanging his ears a little. Tessa pats his good hand. “Better in than out.” She cooes. “Still not very polite.” Throttle teases. “Like you never do it bro. Even around Carbine!” Vinnie objects. “Yeah, but I’ve known Carbine for about 9 years now, Vincent.” Throttle points out. “So?” Vinnie seems to miss the point. “We have only just met Tessa, we need to give her the chance to think we are gentlemen.” Throttle says. Tessa has to smile gently at that.

Dinner is served in painted bowls. Charley admires the Egyptian looking motive. “Brand new, ma bought them a week ago.” Tessa says with a sigh. She struggles lifting the large pan from the stove. Modo gets up. “Let me help you.” He grabs the pan as if it weighs little more than a feather and sets it down on the table. “Thank you, Modo.” Tessa says sweetly. She grabs a ladle and gives everyone a bowl full of rich smelling stew. “Eat up, sweetlings.” Tessa says sweetly. “Oh you bet.” Throttle picks up his spoon and scoops himself up a big mouthful. He takes his time to taste. Modo and Vinnie peer at him intently. “Just like yer ma’s cookin bro.” Is Throttle’s verdict. Only then Modo and Vinnie dig in as well. “Oh mommah, you’re right Throttle, this is like my grey furred old ma’s cookin.” Modo praises. Tessa flusters a little and smiles.

For a while all three mice are silent, just enjoying the stew. Charley and Tessa neither feel the need to say anything. That is, until Tessa clears her throat. “It is time I reveal my true self now.” She says. She has the attention at once. Throttle puts his bowl down and Vinnie’s fork clatters onto the table. Modo folds his good hand over his bionic one and gives her his undivided attention. “Tell us whatever you feel we should know.” He says. Tessa nods and heaves a deep sight.

“You had your own little reveal and now I shall have mine. I hope I am not too monstrous.” She says. “I am sure you won’t be.” Throttle gives her a crooked smile. Tessa gives the three mice and her aunt a hesitant look, but then seems to take heart. Her eyes turn from blue to red, her hands turn to long nailed claws and her teeth grow longer and sharp. With a jolt she gets up, her chair tumbling backwards. The mice startle when they hear a loud snap,as if someone breaks a bone in two. Tessa is hunched over. Her ears are growing pointed and there is foxy red fur on his arms, and white on her chest.

Vinnie and Charley gape at her. Throttle has his fists clenched with tension and Modo rises. “T-Tessa...” He reaches out, but she backs off. The snapping sound returns and Tessa’s back straightens out. Her fur fades away and her facial features return to normal. She turns her blue eyed gaze to Modo. His heart skips a few beats in relief. “Are you alright?” He asks. “Yes, don’t worry about me.” She puts a hand on his arm to reassure him. But it only makes his heart leap faster. Tessa notices it and back off, picking up her chair and sitting back down. Modo sits down as well.

“And what do we call this?” Throttle asks calmly. “Loup Garou, Homos Lupus, Werewolf. Whatever you want. Here in the UK we are mostly named Lyco’s, Lycan’s or Lycantropes. Many consider Lyco a slur, but I don’t mind.” Tessa replies. “I thought werewolves only excited on tv.” Vinnie says. “Just like Aliens, perhaps?” Tessa asks teasingly. “Y-yeah… point for you.” Vinnie mumbles.

Tessa clears away the dishes. Modo picks up the pan and puts it back on the stove. “Need any help?” He asks. “No, not at all, sit down, I’ll make you all coffee.” Tessa shakes her head, her red locks dancing on her shoulders. “Alright, Vinnie drinks decaf.” Modo says. He wanders from the kitchen to the living. He flops down in the large armchair by the fireplace, looking as if he is lord of the house.

“So, what is the plan for now?” Vinnie asks, looking at Throttle. “Tomorrow we scout out Limburger and try to talk to Tessa’s aunt. If that does not work we have to set up a lawsuit ASAP. I will have to study on the laws of this country a little bit.” Throttle replies. “We have to get Tessa away from Limburgers sleazy fins as soon as we can and if need be, we get restraining orders for him and her other aunt.” Modo adds. “Hmm don’t rush into it too hard bro, we just need to make sure Tessa can be her own person, without Limburger as her legal guardian.” Throttle says. Charley nods. “Throttle is right. I don’t have money to do all sort of weird stunts in court, we just need to make sure Tessa is safe.” She tells the mice. “And then Tessa sells the house and comes to Chi-town.” Modo says.

He, in his distracted curiosity pulls a lever on the side of the couch. A foot rest flops out of the chair and the backrest tilts down. “Ah, a mouse could get used to this.” Modo chuckles and gets comfortable.

Tessa comes into the living room with two mugs of tea and three cups of coffee. She puts down the tray and hands her aunt a cup of tea. “PG tip for me aunt.” She cooes. “Ah thank you Tessa.” Charley smiles. “Decaf for me future uncle.” Tessa hands Vinnie a mug of coffee. “Hey, who said I wanted decaf?” Vinnie whines. “Bro, we don’t want to put up with you hyperactive ass all week.” Throttle says. Vinnie groans and drops six sugarcubes in his coffee, stirring profusely. Tessa hands Throttle a mug and walks to Modo to hand him the last one. “I see you have found my father’s chair.” She cooes. Modo jumps up as if he’s been sitting on a hedgehog. “I’m s-sorry Ta-Tessa ma’am. I meant no disrespect.” He says. Tessa clutches the mug of coffee and is very glad he hadn’t taken it from her yet. “It’s fine luv, sit down.” She says softly. Modo slowly takes his spot in the chair again. Tessa sits on the armrest and hands him his coffee. “My father was a large man as well. I have my Lycantropia from him. He was very strong and a good man. I’ve always aspired to be like him. You fill his chair out well.” There is something sentimental in Tessa’s eyes that makes Modo weak.

“We know the feeling, we all aspire to be like our old men in some way.” Throttle says. “Our fathers were all great warrior in their own respect, with heart for the cause and they all perished… Safe for mine. Mine is a prisoner of war.” He tells. “I am so sorry for all three of you. I wish there is something I can do for you.” Tessa says softly. “For our fathers it is too late, Tessa girl, we are here because you need us. We are here to make sure Limburger doesn’t get to you. We are grateful to stay under your roof and eat at your table. And we can only hope this doesn’t take too long.” Throttle replies, a kind smile on his face. Tessa sits beside her aunt on the couch and focuses on her cup of tea. She is silent for the most part. She is sad, the mice understand. But they also know not to pry.

“I’m heading to bed. Good night.” Tessa says. She hugs Charley and gets up. “Sleep well sweetie.” Charley says. “Yeah sweet dreams, sweetheart.” Vinnie pulls Tessa into another bone crushing hug. Tessa wriggles free. Throttle gets up for a fatherly kiss on the girl’s forehead. Tessa giggles and pats him on the chest. “Tell us if you need anything.” Throttle says. “I will.” Tessa says. She bends down to give Modo a kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight.” Modo mumbles, feeling how his entire face heats up. “Thank you.” Tessa smiles weakly and heads upstairs.

The mice sit around for a little while longer, but only for half an hour or so. Charley nods off against Vinnie. He picks her up and heads to the guest room. “We’d best go to bed too, big fella. tomorrow will be a taxing day, if things will go the way I suspect them to.” Throttle rises to his feet. “Yeah, I suppose you are right.” Modo gets up as well. Together they head up the stairs.

By the door of the master bedroom, Throttle halts.

“Do you hear that, only now that she is alone she’ll show her emotions...” He mumbles.

Modo peers at the door to the master bedroom. “Go to her big fella. I know what you feel. I have felt it too, with Carbine. I still feel it for her. But I suppose terranians need more time to catch the vibe.” Throttle places a hand on Modo’s shoulder. “Let her know she can rely on on you big fella.” He says. Modo nods and puts his hand on the master bedroom doorknob. Throttle enters the guest room.

“Tessa?” Modo knocks the door. There is no answer. He twists the doorknob and opens the door. He finds Tessa on her bed, still dressed. He goes over, sitting on the edge of the mattress. Slowly he reaches out his good hand to gently stroke her hair. Tessa turns to him, looking at him. Her face is wet with tears and she sobs softly. Modo gently strokes her cheek. “It’s okay to cry.” He rumbles softly. Tessa whines like a kicked puppy. She crawls into his lap. Modo puts his arm around her. She curls into him and sobs heartbreakingly. “See, there it is, let it out.” He says softly.

“T-thank you Modo.” Tessa mumbles. “It is quite alright baby.” Modo replies. Tessa giggles softly. “I do feel like a baby in your arms.” She whispers. “I’ll keep you safe, I promise.” Modo runs his bionic fingers through her hair. Tessa shivers at how cold the digits are and gooseflesh rises on her arms. Modo immediately removes his hand. “Don’t stop.” Tessa whines. “S-sorry.” Modo resumes the motion.

Slowly Tessa nods off. Modo gently tucks her in and toes out of the master bedroom. He goes into the guestroom. Vinnie is already sleeping, his arms around Charley, who peers over his shoulder to look at Modo. Throttle is seated in the windowcill, looking at the night sky as if he peers up at Mars. “How is she?” He asked softly. “Asleep, but very sad.” Modo sits on the edge of the sleeping couch. “We better get some shut eye too bro.” Throttle comes over to the sleeping couch as well.

#bmfm #biker mice #biker mice from mars #modo #Throttle #Vinnie

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superman86to99 · 3 years

Photo

Superman #85 (January 1994)

Cat Grant in... "DARK RETRIBUTION"! Which is like normal retribution, but somehow darker. On the receiving end of Cat's darktribution is Winslow Schott, the Toyman, who suddenly changed his MO from "pestering Superman with wacky robots" to "murdering children" back on Superman #84, with one of his victims being Cat's young son Adam. Now Cat has a gun and intends to sneak it into prison to use it on Toyman. She's also pretty pissed at Superman for taking so long to find Toyman after Adam’s death (to be fair, Superman did lose several days being frozen in time by an S&M demon, as seen in Man of Steel #29).

So how did Superman find Toyman anyway? Basically, by spying on like 25% of Metropolis. After finding out from Inspector Turpin that the kids were killed near the docks, Superman goes there and focuses all of his super-senses to get "a quick glimpse of every person" until he sees a bald, robed man sitting on a giant crib, and goes "hmmm, yeah, that looks like someone who murders children." At first, Superman doesn't understand why Toyman would do such a horrible thing, but then Schott starts talking to his mommy in his head and the answer becomes clear: he watched Psycho too many times (or Dan Jurgens did, anyway).

Immediately after wondering why no one buys his toys, Toyman makes some machine guns spring out of his giant crib. I don't know, man, maybe it's because they're all full of explosives and stuff? Anyway, Toyman throws a bunch of exploding toys at Superman, including a robot duplicate of himself, but of course they do nothing. Superman takes him to jail so he can get the help he needs -- which, according to Cat, is a bullet to the face. Or so it seems, until she gets in front of him, pulls the trigger, and...

PSYCHE! It was one of those classic joke guns I’ve only ever seen in comics! Cat says she DID plan to bring a real gun, but then she saw one of these at a toy store and just couldn't resist. Superman, who was watching the whole thing, tells Cat she could get in trouble for this stunt, but he won't tell anyone because she's already been through enough. Then he asks her if she needs help getting home and she says no, because she wants to be more self-sufficient.

I think that's supposed to be an inspiring ending, but I don't know... Adam's eerie face floating in the background there makes me think she's gonna shave her head and climb into a giant crib any day, too. THE END!

Character-Watch:

Cat did become more self-sufficient after this, though. Up to now, all of her storylines seemed to revolve around other people: her ex-husband, Morgan Edge, José Delgado, Vinnie Edge, and finally Toyman. After this, I feel like there was a clear effort to turn her into a character that works by herself. I actually like what they did with Cat in the coming years, though I still don’t think they had to kill her poor kid to do that -- they could have sent him off to boarding school, or maybe to live with his dad. Or with José Delgado, over at Power of Shazam! I bet Jerry Ordway would have taken good care of him.

Plotline-Watch:

Wait, so can Superman just find anyone in Metropolis any time he wants? Not really: this is part of the ongoing storyline about his powers getting boosted after he came back from the dead, which sounds pretty useful now but is about to get very inconvenient.

Don Sparrow points out: "It is interesting that as Superman tries to capture Schott, he at one point instead captures a robot decoy, particularly knowing what Geoff Johns will retroactively do to this storyline in years to come, in Action Comics #865, as we mentioned in our review of Superman #84." Johns also explained that the robot thought he was hearing his mother's voice due to the real Toyman trying to contact him via radio, which I prefer to the "psycho talks to his dead mom" cliche.

Superman says "I never thought he'd get to the point where he'd KILL anyone -- especially children!" Agreed about the children part but, uh, did Superman already forget that Toyman murdered a whole bunch people on his very first appearance, in Superman #13? Or does Superman not count greedy toy company owners as people? Understandable, I guess.

There's a sequence about Cat starting a fire in a paper basket at the prison to sneak past the metal detector, but why do that if she had a toy gun all long? Other than to prevent smartass readers like us from saying "How did she get the gun into the prison?!" before the plot twist, that is.

Patreon-Watch:

Shout out to our patient Patreon patrons, Aaron, Murray Qualie, Chris “Ace” Hendrix, britneyspearsatemyshorts, Patrick D. Ryall, Bheki Latha, Mark Syp, Ryan Bush, Raphael Fischer, Dave Shevlin, and Kit! The latest Patreon-only article was about another episode of the 1988 Superman cartoon written by Marv Wolfman, this one co-starring Wonder Woman (to Lois' frustration).

Another Patreon perk is getting to read Don Sparrow's section early, because he usually finishes his side of these posts long before I do (he ALREADY finished the next one, for instance). But now this one can be posted in public! Take it away, Don:

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow):

We begin with the cover, and it’s a good one— an ultra tight close up for Cat Grant firing a .38 calibre gun, with the titular Superman soaring in, perhaps too late. An interesting thing to notice in this issue (and especially on the cover) is that the paper stock that DC used for their comics changed, so slightly more realistic shading was possible. While it’s nowhere near the sophistication or gloss of the Image Comics stock of the time, there is an attempt at more realistic, airbrushy type shading in the colour. It works well in places, like the muzzle flash, on on Cat Grant’s cheeks and knuckles, but less so in her hair, where the shadow looks a browny green on my copy.

The interior pages open with a pretty good bit of near-silent storytelling. We are deftly shown, and not told the story—there are condolence cards and headlines, and the looming presence of a liquor bottle, until we are shown on the next page splash the real heart of the story, a revolver held aloft by Catherine Grant, bereaved mother, with her targeting in her mind the grim visage of the Toyman.

While their first few issues together meshed pretty well, it’s around this issue that the pencil/inks team of Jurgens and Rubinstein starts to look a little rushed in places. A few inkers who worked with Jurgens that I’ve spoken to have hinted that his pencils can vary in their level of detail, from very finished to pretty loose, and in the latter case, it’s up to the inker to embellish where there’s a lack of detail. Some inkers, like Brett Breeding, really lay down a heavier hand, where there’s quite a bit of actual drawing work in addition to adding value and weight to the lines. I suspect some of the looseness in the figures, as well as empty backgrounds reveals that these pencils were less detailed than we often see from Jurgens.

There’s some weird body language in the tense exchange between Superman and Cat as she angrily confronts him about his lack of progress in capturing her son’s killer—Superman looks a little too dynamic and pleased with himself for someone ostensibly apologizing. Superman taking flight to hunt down Toyman is classic Jurgens, though.

Another example of art weirdness comes on page 7, where Superman gets filled in on the progress of the Adam Morgan investigation. Apparently Suicide Slum has some San Francisco-like hills, as that is one very steep sidewalk separating Superman and Turpin from some central-casting looking punks.

The sequence of Superman concentrating his sight and hearing on the waterfront area is well-drawn, and it’s always nice to see novel uses of his powers. Tyler Hoechlin’s Superman does a similar trick quite often on the excellent first season of Superman & Lois. The full-bleed splash of Superman breaking through the wall to capture Toyman is definitely panel-of-the-week material, as we really feel Superman’s rage and desperation to catch this child-killer.

Pretty much all the pages with Cat Grant confronting Winslow Schott are well-done and tensely paced. While sometimes I think the pupil-less flare of the eye-glasses is a cop-out, it does lend an opaqueness and mystery to what Toyman is thinking. Speaking of cop-outs, the gag gun twist ending really didn’t work for me. I was glad that Cat didn’t lower herself to Schott’s level and become a killer, even for revenge, but the prank gun just felt too silly of a tonal shift for a storyline with this much gravitas. The breakneck denouement that Cat is now depending only on herself didn’t get quite enough breathing room either.

While I appreciated that the ending of this issue avoided an overly simplistic, Death Wish style of justice, this issue extends this troubling but brief era of Superman comics. The casual chalk outlines of yet two more dead children continues the high body count of the previous handful of issues, and the tone remains jarring to me. The issue is also self-aware enough to point out, again, that Schott is generally an ally of children, and not someone who historically wishes them harm, but that doesn’t stop the story from going there, in the most violent of terms. In addition to being a radical change to the Toyman character, it’s handled in a fashion more glib than we’re used to seeing in these pages. The mental health cliché of a matriarchal obsession, a la Norman Bates doesn’t elevate it either. So, another rare misstep from Jurgens the writer, in my opinion. STRAY OBSERVATIONS:

I had thought for sure that Romanove Vodka was a sly reference to a certain Russian Spy turned Marvel superhero, but it turns out there actually is a Russian Vodka called that, minus the “E”, produced not in Russia, as one might think from the Czarist name, but rather, India.

While it made for an awkward exchange, I was glad that Cat pointed out how her tragedy more or less sat on the shelf while Superman dealt with the "Spilled Blood" storyline. A lesser book might not have acknowledged any time had passed. Though I did find it odd for Superman to opine that he wanted to find her son’s murderer even more than she wanted him to. Huh? How so?

I love the detail that Toyman hears the noise of Superman soaring to capture him, likening it to a train coming.

I quibble, but there’s so much I don’t understand about the “new” Toyman. If he’s truly regressing mentally, to an infant-like state, why does he wear this phantom of the opera style long cloak while he sits in his baby crib? Why not go all the way, and wear footie pajamas, like the lost souls on TLC specials about “adult babies”?

I get that Cat Grant is in steely determination mode, but it seemed a little out of place that she had almost no reaction to the taunting she faced from her child’s killer. She doesn’t shed a single tear in the entire issue, and no matter how focused she is on vengeance, that doesn’t seem realistic to me. [Max: That's because this is not just retribution, Don. It's dark retribution. We’ve been over this!]

#superman #dan jurgens #joe rubinstein #cat grant #adam morgan #toyman #dan turpin #joke guns that only exist in comics #cat grant the dark retributor #coming soon to image comics

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slasher-smasher · 4 years

Text

16 yrs old

Sinclair Twins x Reader

A huge thank you to the wonderful @thesightstoshowyou for beta reading my mess. I know I just posted the first one, I just have a lot in my head and want to get it down. Thank you for those who are reading, really makes my day. This one is a bit longer. Other parts here: 8 yrs, 19 yrs pt1, 19 pt2\

Warnings: none

Today was a beautiful day. There were no clouds in the bright blue sky, and the trees swished with the caress of an unusually cool breeze that blew through the town of Ambrose.

You were walking toward the station and laughing with friends you made while visiting your Uncle over the summer. Your parents have been fighting more at the most ridiculous things, so you relish the time you get to run away to the busy town.

“There’r drinks at the station we can ‘ave,” you say while wiping the sweat off your forehead.

As your little group enters the blissfully cool garage, you pass your uncle who was currently tucked underneath the body of an off-yellow vehicle.

“Hey Grumps, can we git some soda from the cooler?” You squat down next to him so you can hear him better.

“Sure, don’t care,” the muffled grumble replied, “Er, that Sinclair boy left gifts for ya’ earlier. Sumthin’ ‘bout yer birthday. It’s in my office.” You stand with a puzzled look on your face.

“Sinclair boy? No way it was Vinny. He never leaves the museum.” You ponder while walking to the small office that was tucked into the back. Looking at the desk you find the “gifts,” and let out a short laugh. One was of a poorly whittled wooden rabbit. Or, at least, you think it’s a rabbit.

“Oh Lester,” you sigh with a smile on your face. Next was a wax sculpture of a moth. The figure itself was unnerving in the usual Vincent fashion that just made you love it even more. The moth’s wings have the image of a woman’s face. It was a joke from when you embarrassed yourself when hanging out with Vincent in the House of Wax.

You moved some old papers and let out the highest pitched squeal when a large moth fluttered at your face from being disturbed. You tripped over the chair that was behind you. There was no noise but you could see Vincent’s shoulders shake from his place by the piano, his eye shining with amusement.

“Oh shut it! The damn thing tried to jump on my face!” You could feel the blood rush to your cheeks, but you were happy that the normally stoic man was laughing. A voice that sent chills down your spine broke you out of reminiscing.

“Ya gunna pay fer that?”

‘Oh no,’ you panicked as you gathered the gifts and raced out of the room.

You come into the sight of your friends protesting and saying Y/N gave them the drinks. The eldest Sinclair himself leans against a yellow car that looks like he was working on judging by the grease on his coveralls and cheek. His arms are crossed over his chest, pale eyes set in a frown.

“Bo Sinclair, quit bein’ an ass! Ya’ know Grumps lets me ‘ave some drinks.” You stomped right up in front of the young mechanic, clutching the figures to your chest. He was a whole foot taller than you, so the intimidating effect from your friends’ point of view was a bit washed out.

As Bo looked down at your face, then the sculptures.

He straightened and grabbed your jaw in a firm grip with his right hand, rough from the engineering he likes to study.

The touch making a dream you had flash like lightning behind your eyes of the way his hands caressed your skin and how you awoke breathless, angry, and slick.

His lips slid into a smirk that made you want to slap it off…or maybe run your tongue across it.

‘Fuck off hormones!’ you scolded.

“How was I supposed to know they were with you Prince/Princess?” he asked in that condescending way of his. The blood in your cheeks boiled. You would never admit nor understand why this bastard of a man gets under your skin so easily.

“I told you not to call me that,” you gritted out through your teeth not taking your eyes off his blues that now shined with glee. Oh, how he loves revving you up.

Bo was just about to make a retort that would make you want to break his handsome face when your Uncle yells, “Boy! Git the fuck over ‘ere and help me with this tin can. What am I payin’ ya’ fer?”

Bo closes his eyes and growls under his breath. When he opens them, they are a darker shade, the same shade as when he is angry.

“Another time, sweet cheeks,” he winks as he caresses your cheek with his thumb before he letting go and turning to lean over the hood while your uncle is under. He acts as if you two weren’t surrounded by tension so thick you can suffocate on it.

“Yer still on the fucking fan belt? Damn it old man let me do it.”

“Prick,” you huff and turn to your two friends who seemed like they were frozen, “Let’s go, ya’ll. I want ter see them new puppies they got.” The offer of cooing over cute things seems to perk them up and the chatter and laughter resumed as you all exited the garage.

As you leave you can feel the red-hot burn of Bo’s eyes crawling up your legs and body. Mainly, your ass.

‘Nope, not looking.’ You force yourself to face forward, not at the stormy eyes that follow you as you walk to the pet store down the street. You did your best to ignore the tingling on your face where he touched you.

Later, you find yourself lounging on some dusty couch under the House of Wax where Vincent usually works on his art and spends most of his time. You were facing the ceiling, lost in thought, arms draped over the back, legs crossed at the ankles. The candle that Vincent had for a light source bathed your skin in a warm glow. All you could hear was the scrape of a pencil over the paper as Vincent sketched in his book.

You were thinking about something one of your friends said while you were gushing over the tiny puppies.

“Hey, are ya and Bo together?” she had asked while cuddling a wiggling puppy to her chest. You let out a sharp bark of laughter and shook your head violently.

“With that jerk? Hell no. Most of the time I wanna bop him in the nose whenever he opens his mouth.” You giggled as you watched the pup you were giving attention nibble on your fingers.

“Yeh, but ya’ basically grew up wit them Sinclairs and even went ter the funeral. You guys must be close righ’?” asked your other friend. The mention of Trudy and Victor’s funeral made you sad, though it didn’t show on your face.

You had mixed feelings about it. They weren’t the best of parents; God knows you know firsthand with your own. But you were saddened about how it all ended; Trudy getting sick, and poor Dr. Sinclair. Despair, like a black viscous goo consuming every good thing in your life, swallows you up too. They all deserved better.

You remember when you saw Vincent, Bo, and Lester all standing in front of the casket, heads bowed in their black suits. Lester, being at the age of seven, only knew that his Momma and Pa are gone, too young to grasp the concepts of sickness and heartbreak.

Vincent was, as usual, stiff, and with his mask on you couldn’t tell what was going through his mind. You wanted to comfort and embrace them, but what made your heart feel like it was constricted by fishing wire was Bo. His hands were balled into fists, his face pinched like he was going to scream any second. One would think he would start throwing things, but it was his eyes that gave it away. The watery bright blue eyes that were looking at the face of his mother and jailer.

You have never seen them that clear blue before. A dark, stormy ocean seemed to permanently take residence in his eyes, but not that day. You will never understand the relationship the boys had with their parents, the twisted love they had. Hopefully, the neighbors who volunteered to take them in will fill the gaping hole that has been created.

You doubt it.

The scrape of a chair on the floor made you blink. Lifting your head, you watch Vincent get up from the desk and stand in front of a small block of wax that will soon be transformed into a creature born from the man’s dark imagination. His head cocked to the side as if debating what to do. His midnight hair that is getting longer every year brushed over his right shoulder. Getting up from the couch, you groaned at feeling of the small pops when you stretched.

‘God, how long was I zoned out?’ you thought. Walking behind him, you bit into your bottom lip in hesitation. You knew you had a bit of a crush on the quiet and probably emotionally stunted artist. He was so much better to deal with than that bastard of a twin of his.

‘Ah fuck it,’ you thought, then proceeded to wrap your arms around Vincent who stiffened like he’d been electrocuted.

“I never thanked you for the moth. It’s lovely,” you whispered into his shoulder blades as you laid your head on the middle of his back. He was still like a statue and you started to get worried you overstepped, about to let go when you felt him relax and squeeze your fingers once with his soft warm hands, the total opposite of Bo’s. A soft raspy, “Welcome,” could barely be heard.

You let go and step next to him, tilting your head to see his good eye. You always felt naked when that light blue eye was on you. You did not see any expression in them, just a cold emptiness.

“It was a monster of a moth by the way. I nearly escaped death.” You grinned as you saw him roll his eye in exasperation, “Also, Lester is gunna cut his fingers off wit those knives of his. He’s just thirteen. Where is he gettin’ all those damn things?” Vincent just shrugged and picked up some tools from the tray and proceeded to make his next creation. You huffed and walked back to the couch and ungracefully plopped onto it, content to watch him work in silence.

#bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #fanfic #reader insert #horror #slasher #house of wax (2005)

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niksixx · 4 years

Text

Patience

~The final part!! Thank you for reading and supporting this mini series. I hope you enjoy part 5.~

Pairing: Axl Rose/Vince Neil x Female Reader

A/N: Reblog so others can see!

*Picture is NOT mine. Found on Google. Credit to the owner!*

Tag list: @littlemisscare-all @curly-hudson @julessworldd @madamsixx @headlight-queen @metalheartofgold @ginny-baker-sixx @mickmarstookmyheart @gunsngunners @bex-tothe-rescue

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

It’s raining again, and the weather outside matches your mood. Dark gray clouds cover the sky, and lightning strikes every so often. It’s one of the colder days in California, and you tug the sleeves of your sweater down to cover your wrists.

Vince hasn’t spoken to you in two days, and you haven’t heard from Axl since your boyfriend threatened him out of your house. You spent that day scrubbing the icing from the kitchen, tears sliding down your cheeks as Vince screamed at you the whole time. He left that night to visit a bar with Nikki, leaving you to cry softly in your bed. He didn’t return until the next morning.

Two days later, your lips still tingle from the kiss you and Axl shared. It was the first time in weeks you’d felt something. Something good. Something wholesome. The tenderness in the kiss kept you wanting more, wanting to feel his lips on yours again.

In your heart, there’s conflicting feelings. And no one is there for guidance. Whatever Axl feels for you is strong. It could be love, and you’re not sure if you feel the same thing.

Of course, all three of the Mötley boys would listen to you ramble about your troubles, but none of them were experts in the dating scene. None of them had been in love before, with the exception of Tommy, but he fell in love with every woman he laid eyes on.

There’s an ache in your heart as you sit by the television, thinking back on the past three years you spent with Vince. Times that you hid in the shadows away from paparazzi. Times where you watched music award ceremonies on television, a pain in your heart knowing that you’d never be on Vince’s arm congratulating him. What kind of a relationship was that?

Even in the privacy of your own home, Vince struggled to love you and care for you. He wasn’t affectionate by nature. He’d greet you with small little pecks on your cheeks or lips, and his sex drive was usually through the roof, but being intimate with Vince felt anything other than intimate. It felt like a chore, and you were bored within ten minutes. With Vince, there was no cuddling or showering after sex, no confessions of love. It was hard to be open and honest with him about your wants and needs, because half of the time he seemed uninterested, or played you off as needy, clingy. It hurt, especially because you’d do anything for him. Mick had always said you deserved better. And Axl had said it too. When were you going to believe it?

There’s faint footsteps behind you as your eyes are glued to the TV, catching the last bit of a Skid Row music video. They were good, sure, but nothing compared to Motley Crue or even Guns N’ Roses.

There’s a change of scenery on the TV that makes you blink twice. It’s a live video, currently happening right at that moment, as Axl and his bandmates settle themselves into stools in an empty studio.

“Get them off my screen,” Vince calls from behind you. He sits at the dining room table, beer bottle suffocating in his grasp.

You don’t even pay him much mind. “You can leave if you don’t like it. I’m keeping it on.”

Surprisingly, he doesn’t fight back, but you hear him mumble a few curse words under his breath. The last words out of his mouth sound like a defeated “I give the fuck up with you.”

On screen, Axl is handed a microphone as more are distributed to the rest of the band. Tilting your head slightly, you drink in his appearance, obsessed with the way he presents himself. He’s more casual today, with both a bandana and a hat on his head, a short sleeve white shirt that shows off his unique tattoos, and tight leather pants that shouldn’t look as good on him as they do.

“This was a spur of the moment type of thing,” he says shyly, rubbing a palm on his thigh. Nervous habit. “We wrote this song in about two hours a few nights ago and the reason I was eager to play it today...is because I wrote it for a woman who I’ve been shamelessly in love with since I was sixteen years old.”

Something in the air shifts. Slack mouthed, you sit up straight as you turn up the volume. The sound of a chair scratching against the floor has goosebumps littering your skin, and before you know it Vince is standing beside you, gritting his teeth. He takes a long swig of the alcohol, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, before setting his jaw, folding his tanned arms across the front of his black muscle tee.

“So Y/N, if by some miracle you’re watching this right now, I want you to know that you were the only person on my mind as we wrote this song. It is solely, purely, for you.”

“Along with all the other love songs he’s written,” Izzy deadpans.

Vince’s eyes burn into the side of your head, but all your attention is directed toward the television as Axl begins to hum a soft tune.

~~~

It’s almost as if you forget how to breathe. It’s an easy process, in and out, in and out, but you struggle with something so simple as the song ends.

Vince hasn’t moved. His face is still visibly flushed, knuckles the palest shade of white as his hand still grips his beer, but he stands completely frozen, eyes boring into the television screen.

You shift uncomfortably on the sofa, pushing your feet deeper into the back of the couch underneath you, reaching out to place a gentle hand on your fuming boyfriend’s elbow. He pulls away, uninterested, and he sips the remaining liquid in the bottle.

“Vinnie…”

“The dude just doesn’t listen,” The laugh that falls from his lips is anything but humorous. It’s empty and dark. There’s an edge to his low voice, and while it’s not angry, it’s...cool. Even. It frightens you. “How many times do I have to tell him to stay away from you? How many different fucking ways can he come up with to get your attention?”

“Vince I had no idea he was going to do something like this.”

But hell, if it wasn’t the most romantic thing a man has ever done for you. He’d broadcasted to the world his raw feelings and emotions, and there was something so sexy about a man who wasn’t afraid to be vulnerable and knew what, or who, he wanted. And the song, so sweet and meaningful, confirmed your suspicions. Axl Rose, the little boy from the playground, the man who sang his heart out on live TV, was in love with you.

Vince shakes his head, clapping a closed fist into an open palm. “This is your fault, you know.”

You blink, standing from the couch, folding your arms over the oversized green sweater. “My fault?”

He takes a step forward, but this time you don’t back down. “You let him back in your life. For seven years you’ve been fine without him, but all of a sudden you meet him one day on the street and decide you apparently can’t live without him? Bullshit.”

“He was my best friend!”

“And I’m your boyfriend!” Vince shouts back. He takes another step forward, nose to nose, and with the strength you gather from your very core, you shove him out of your face.

“You’re nothing!”

The anger in your voice shocks you, startling Vince. He stumbles against the dining room chair, holding onto the arm to regain his balance.

The air between you sizzles with resentment as Vince licks his lips, chewing on the skin. You're both breathing heavily, neither one backing down. “What did you say to me?”

And everything you've been feeling for the last few years comes out in a wave. “I can’t be with you anymore, Vince. I can’t be with someone who is so controlling of my life. I can’t be with someone who would rather please his record label than his girlfriend. I have been waiting for you to wake up for three years now and realize that I deserve better than what you’re giving me.”

“What the fuck have I done that is so bad, huh?” Vince yells, throwing up his arms. “Tell me. Because I sure as shit don’t know.”

It’s hopeless.

He’s hopeless.

And there’s nothing else you can do besides give up.

~~~

You fight for two hours. Screaming, crying, followed by more screaming and crying. It’s exhausting. Somehow, after pointing out everything Vince has done to you, or what he hasn’t done, he convinces himself he’s never been the problem. And that’s when you realize he’s never going to change.

Your phone has buzzed four times in those two hours, but whoever it was would have to wait. There was too much going on, your head was spinning, skin sweating, heart beating wildly. You were on the brink of ending your relationship after wasting three years of your life trying to convince yourself the man, who was currently nestled in the couch nursing another beer, loved you.

Letting out a defeated sigh, your feet drag against the wooden floor as they carry you to your room. There’s a small duffel bag under the bed and you grab it, fishing out some clothes and stuffing it into the bag. Grabbing a few of your necessary toiletries, you shove them in the side pockets as Vince watches from the doorway.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m not staying here. I’ll go stay at Lei’s or maybe my parents or hell maybe even Mick will let me stay over, but I’m not staying here.”

“We still have a lot to talk about.”

The closet door slams closed as your blood boils. “No, Vince. We have nothing to talk about. Not anymore.”

You zip up the duffel and heave it to the living room, slipping on a pair of beat up Chuck Taylors. You pace the house for your keys, Vince following, watching your every move.

“I love you.”

You stop abruptly, spinning around, sucking in shallow breaths of air. No way. No fucking way was he going to manipulate you into staying. Not with those three goddamn words you longed to hear after such a long time.

“You don’t even know what love is, Vince.”

“Kiss me and I’ll show you.”

You find the keys to your car on the kitchen counter, snagging them from the tile. “I’m not kissing you, Vince. Never again.”

“Why not?”

“Because there’s nothing left!” Heaving the duffel onto your shoulder, you grab your phone and slide it into the side of the bag. “Fuck, at least with Axl I felt something!”

Vince freezes, veins popping out from his forehead. Fidgeting with the hem of your sweater, your mouth dries as you mentally scold yourself for the slip of the tongue.

“He...kissed you?” And for the first time in his life, Vince looks almost...upset. “And you kissed him back?”

Drumming your fingers on your jean clad thigh, you rub your palms against the fabric, wiping off the sweat. “Um…”

“Did you kiss him back?” Vince asks, emphasizing each word. “Yes or no?”

You can’t bring yourself to say it. So you don’t.

But no answer is always an answer.

In a flash, Vince is flying out the door, and you’re following just behind him. He throws open the door to his car, turning the key in the ignition, and fishes his phone from his jeans pockets, quickly dialing before holding it to his ear. “Sixx, what’s the address to Slash’s apartment? He still lives with the rest of ‘em, right?”

All the blood rushes to your cheeks when you realize what Vince is about to do. Throwing yourself at him, you try to pry the phone from his ear, but he stiffarms you, keeping you from the phone. “Don’t worry about what I’m going to do, man. Just tell me the damn address, I know you know it. You did coke with the guy for fucks sake.”

“Vince, please don’t do this.”

A wicked gleam shines in his eyes, and you hear Nikki recite the address on the other end of the line. Frantically, you run to your car, throwing open the door, only to see Vince take off down the street.

~~~

When you pull up to the apartment, Vince is quickly climbing the stairs, cracking each knuckle. Grabbing your bag from the passenger’s seat, you stagger out of the car, locking it, before climbing the steps two at a time. “Vince, stop!”

He sprints down the hall, too fast for you as you heave the bag further up your shoulder. You watch as he knocks loud and hard on the door, and when it opens, he forces himself inside the apartment.

You hear Duff’s voice. “What the fuck--.” He peeks his head out, eyes widening when he sees you hobbling over. “Y/N? What is going on?”

By the time you reach the door, Vince has Axl pinned against the wall. From the kitchen, Izzy watches, horrified, as Steven and Slash pull on Vince’s shoulders.

“Stop!” Dropping the duffel by the door, you sprint across the room, pulling the two boys away. The last thing you need is someone getting hurt. “Vince, get off him!”

By some miracle, he lets go.

“You want to tell us what’s going on?” Steven directs to no one in particular, hands on his waist.

“How many times do I need to threaten you, Rose?” Vince asks, nostrils flaring as he glares at the startled redhead. “Because clearly, once wasn’t fucking enough.”

“Vin--.”

“She doesn’t fucking want you,” Vince continues. Axl fidgets under his gaze. “No song, no kiss, and yeah, I fucking know about that, too, will ever make her want you. You’re a pathetic excuse of a man. Your daddy didn’t want you, your step-daddy didn’t want you, and my girlfriend sure as fuck doesn’t want you.”

Your heart stills when Axl’s face falls. His father had always been a touchy subject. Though Axl hadn’t remembered much about his biological dad, there was still trauma hidden deep within as his brain tried to block it out. You were the first person Axl had told about the abuse, as he was a victim of both his biological father and step father. You were there for him then, and just like you promised all those years ago, you’d be here for him now.

Vince backs away and you seize the advantage, positioning your body between them. Letting an open palm fall behind you, your heart bursts with love when another hand slides into yours.

Vince eyes your entwined hands, letting out a shaky laugh. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“We’re done, Vince. You have hurt me for the very last time, and I will not stand here and let you hurt Axl. I simply won’t. Axl is a good man with a good heart and he always has been. And I know he loves me. He’s proved it,” Glancing back over your shoulder, you offer Axl a smile. His eyes are full of love as he watches you, squeezing your hand encouragingly. “And that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

There’s nothing Vince can say. He can’t fix it. He can’t change. He’s lost you to a better man, a man that knows what he wants, and how to love someone the way they need to be loved.

He looks around the room, fists balled by his sides. Frowns, narrowed eyes, and bared teeth are directed toward him.

From the kitchen, Izzy is the first one to open his mouth. “You have three seconds to get your ass out that door before I call the police.”

With burning eyes, Vince backs away to the door, keeping his gaze locked on your face. “You’re going to regret this.”

He’s met with a confident shake of your head. “No, I don’t think I will.”

At the door, Duff gives Vince a warning stare. The blonde bassist towers over the scrawny blonde singer, looking even more intimidating in his leather apparel. Vince gives him a look before crossing the threshold, and Duff doesn’t hesitate shutting the door in his face.

Tension leaves your shoulders, the boys in the room letting out loud sighs of relief. You turn, lips turning upward. “I heard the song.”

Axl’s face softens. Sliding his hands around the sides of your neck, he pulls you close, foreheads just barely touching. “I figured. And you should know I meant every word.”

You don’t care that there are four boys watching you.

You don’t care that your eyes are shining with unshed tears.

You don’t care that you just ended a three year relationship.

All you care about is the moment when you push forward and kiss the lips in front of you with a fervent need. Arms circle your waist, pulling you deep as lips kiss you deeper. You cling to Axl’s shirt, never wanting to be apart from him again. But you know in your heart he’ll never let you go.

The warmth of his body dissipates when you pull back for a breath, the tips of your fingers grazing over the angles of his jaw, his cheekbones, and slowly coming back to the outline of his lips. They purse together, gently kissing the soft pads of your skin.

“I don’t want to rush anything,” Axl murmurs, and the butterflies in your stomach flutter at the sincerity in his voice.

“Oh, bullshit,” Duff laughs, leaning against the door. “He’d marry you tomorrow if he could.”

“Lovesick fool,” Slash chuckles in agreement, arm resting on Izzy’s shoulder.

“They’re not entirely wrong,” Axl says with a wink. “But the name of the song is Patience for a reason. We have all the time in the world, sugar.”

“I mean, you waited over seven years already, what’s another seven?” Steven jokes heartily.

Hands sliding around Axl’s neck, you pull him toward you once more. He dips to kiss you, and you savor in the feeling. Yeah, you’ll definitely get used to this.

“According to Izzy, you have a few other songs you wrote for me,” you say with a wiggle of your brows. “What do you say you sing them for me?”

In those perfect gray eyes, there’s nothing but love. And you feel it in your heart that you’re beginning to love him, too. Maybe you won’t have to be patient after all. Love is natural, and with Axl, you don’t have to force it.

He whisks you away to his room, serenading you as you lie comfortably in his arms. He knows the songs by heart, and each one is unquestionably unique with different tones and melodies.

Turning in his arms, he continues to sing as you gaze at his face. So calm. So peaceful. So breathtakingly beautiful. And you realize now that somewhere in your heart, you had always loved that little boy on the playground.

And you were in love with the man he became.

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tommynikkivincemick · 5 years

Text

three way call — part 9

Summary: Tommy Lee and Nikki Sixx find themselves in the frustrating predicament of being infatuated with the same woman. This calls for a competition.

Author’s note: What’s up fuckers, it’s been a minute! Sorry for the long hiatus, but shit’s been fucked! But now I’m back and will hopefully be writing more. This will probably be the last chapter of three way call, but I’ll totally write an epilogue if y’all would like one. Also sorry if I forgot anyone on the tag list, I haven’t been keeping up with requests very well. Sincerest apologies. Enjoy.

Warnings: Language, alcohol, mild violence, the usual.

Over the following weeks, Tommy, Y/N, and Nikki became inseparable and the Terror Twins became the Terror Triplets. The trio would constantly be touching, kissing, cuddling, sitting on top of each other, or excusing themselves to go have sex. They knew how each other member of the throuple liked their coffee and what kind of cigarettes they smoked, how they tossed and turned in bed, their preferred brands of beer, and what toppings they liked on their pizza. Y/N knew that Nikki didn’t think Crown Royal was worth the money as far as whiskeys went and that Tommy preferred sativa over indica because it didn’t make him feel as hazy. Nikki knew that Tommy didn’t like cheap vodka when doing shots because he’d thrown it up so many times before and he knew that when Y/N made the coffee, it somehow tasted better despite being made the exact same way by everybody. Tommy knew that Y/N only used Sally Hansen nail polish and owned every shade of red ever made, or so it seemed, and that Nikki only burned dragon’s blood incense, only from this weird little hole in the wall shop downtown.

To Vince and Mick, the closeness was nauseating. Vince was tired of fourth wheeling in his own home and tired of being kept up all night and some of the morning by “Oh Tommy, oh Nikki, oh Y/N,” and the pounding of the headboard on the wall. The most blissful times were when Y/N was at work or the trio decided to spend the night at her apartment instead. However, when Y/N was away, the boys had begun to play, testing boundaries romantically and in the bedroom at all hours of the day. Even band practice has changed; Nikki with his perfectionist tendencies harped on Vince and Mick as usual but suddenly everything Tommy did was perfect. In Tommy’s eyes everything should be dialed back a bit, unless it was his drumming or Nikki’s bass.

“I’m so sick to death of those three,” Mick said one day while the Twins were visiting their third at work.

“Oh, shut up, you don’t even live with them! They’re so far up each other’s asses, you can’t even tell where one ends and the others begin at this point,” Vince bitched.

“Don’t get me wrong, Y/N is great, and I’m glad they’re all happy, but when it affects the band is when I draw the line.”

“I know! Nikki and Tommy have been skipping practices and they’re god damned lucky all of our gigs have gone smoothly. I mean, hell; Sixx is supposed to be the leader of this band and who was it that had to call back that Zutaut guy about scheduling a meeting with those record exec guys? Fucking me! I mean, we call Nikki the leader, we call Y/N our manager, and Tommy’s the second in command, so they need to start fucking acting like it if we’re gonna score this record deal.”

“Should we break them up?” Mick asked, a devious sparkle in his eye.

“Absolutely not. Good material has been flowing from Nikki like fucking water; have you read the lyrics for new piece? ‘Looks That Kill’, or whatever? It’s bitchin’, and I don’t even care that it’s about Y/N. He told me what he wants for the instrumentals and it’s gonna be awesome, the whole next album will be.” Vince gushed.

“They’ll tire themselves out eventually,” Mick sighed, “Until then, we suffer, and also tell them to get their shit together.”

Meanwhile at the record store, Y/N swore she was about to throw her lovers out of the store.

“When’s your lunch break?”

“When does your shift end?”

“We miss you!”

“Just close the store for a little while, we won’t tell...”

“Yeah, come on, baby, live a little!”

She loved Tommy and Nikki— really she did— but today they were making her want to tear her fucking hair out. The Twins were especially needy today and it seemed like their whining and pleading wouldn’t ever stop.

“Guys, you’re gonna get me fired, stop it!” She hissed, slapping Tommy’s hand off of her ass.

“Your boss is never even here! Nine times out of ten, you’re the only one working in here,” Nikki reminded, taking another cherry sucker from the bowl on the counter, and watching as Tommy slid behind her again.

“Yeah, but there’s customers here and sometimes the owner’s son comes by to check in and... and...” Her eyelids fluttered and her train of thought went off the tracks as Tommy began kissing her neck and nibbling her earlobe to distract her, “Tommy! I’m gonna slap you in the face if you don’t stop it!”

“But don’t you like it?” He whispered.

“I love it, that’s the problem. You two go home and I’ll see you in an hour for lunch, yeah? I’ll even call in sick for the rest of the day and have what’s-her-name cover for me.”

“Fine,” Nikki pouted, “You promise?”

“I promise, lover,” She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him gently, “But I promise nothing if you two don’t get out and let me get some work done.”

“C’mon, Sixx,” Tommy huffed and leaned down to give Y/N a kiss on the cheek, “See ya later, sweet thing.”

“Later, babes,” She smiled and waved goodbye as they left at last.

She sighed a sigh of deep relief and sank into her chair that sat behind the register. Finally she could take a breather and get some work done. Then the phone rang.

“Mötley residence, Mick speaking, can I please speak to Y/N?”

“Black Cat Records, Y/N speaking, what’s up, man?” She greeted.

“Are the boys still there?”

“Nope, just left. Why, did you need something?”

“No, no. They’ll be home soon enough, I’m sure. We’re having a band meeting later, though, and you need to be there, too.”

“Yeah, got it. Good news or bad news?”

“Little of both. Well, little bad, lot of good.”

“Okay, I’ll be off in a little under two hours and I told the boys I’d call in for the rest of the afternoon. See ya later, Mars man.”

“See ya later, Terror Triplet.”

She chuckled at the name and hung up. As she stuck price labels on a new shipment of records, she wondered what the news could be. The rest of the morning drug on slowly with few customers and boring music on the radio. No Mötley Crüe, that’s for sure. Finally, it was time for the lunch break. Y/N made a quick call before she left.

“Hey, Sylvia? Can you cover me this afternoon? Yeah, yeah, band stuff, you know. Yeah, I’ll tell the boys you said hello. Thanks, hun, I owe you one.”

She was lucky her coworker picked up and was even luckier she agreed to cover her. Even though her boys annoyed her, she still couldn’t wait to go home to them. Y/N was also anxious about Mick’s news. There was so much on her mind that she couldn’t even pay attention to the Blondie song that was on the radio as she drove to the Mötley residence. She climbed through the window of the apartment to find all of the boys laying around the living room in various states of undress.

“Why are you all half naked?” She snickered.

“It’s hot as balls, babe. Our AC broke, I think,” Tommy whined.

“Did you hit it?”

“A little,” Vince sighed, “It didn’t help.”

Y/N hummed to herself and went to the other window, kicking the air conditioning unit as hard as she could, to no avail.

“Damn, that usually works. Oh well, is there cold drinks in the fridge?”

“Yeah, Vinnie went grocery shopping today. We got beer, Diet Coke, bitchy wine cooler things, and some other shit,” Nikki replied, fanning himself with a random piece of sheet music.

She kicked off her shoes and shirt and grabbed a Coke from the fridge, sitting on the floor between Nikki’s legs and leaning her head on his thigh.

“Why are you wearing these leather pants, babe? Aren’t they hot?”

“Fashion before function, sweetheart,” The bassist shrugged.

“So Mick,” Tommy piped up, “What’s your big news?”

The guitarist sat up in his chair, and cleared his throat.

“Good news first. Do you guys remember that Zutaut kid?”

“Dorky rugby shirt?” Tommy asked.

“Yeah, that’s the one. He talked it over with Electra and called today saying they want to sign us as soon as possible.”

The boys and Y/N erupted in a chorus of whoops and hell-yeahs.

“So what’s the bad news? I don’t think anything can sting after that,” Nikki grinned.

Vince shifted uncomfortably before addressing the rhythm section and their lady love.

“Nikki, Tommy, Y/N, let me start by saying we love that you guys are happy together. But me and Mick feel that you’re letting this relationship consume you a little too much. Nikki, you’ve been letting Tommy get away with murder during practices. Tommy, you’re going soft with Sixx and Y/N, man. And Y/N, you’re our manager, but you’ve been devoting more of your time to the guys than the band as a whole. You should have been the one to talk to Electra and tell us we’re getting signed, you know? But we’ve been having to pick up the slack and that sucks.”

The trio nodded guiltily. They knew their priorities were a bit skewed as of late. Y/N had been meaning to call Electra for days, Tommy had been slacking and not taking his position as second in command seriously, and Nikki was too in love to whip Tommy into shape again. It wasn’t fair to Mick and Vince, and they knew that.

“Yeah, I mean us being together makes us happy, but maybe we should’ve considered if it would be good for the band,” Tommy sighed.

“Maybe taking a break would be the best thing for the band,” Y/N mused, words soaked in sorrow.

“Hey, no! You don’t have to take a break from each other, just even out your priorities a little more, you know?” Mick offered, “Tommy still acts like a ten year old but has more grown up moments since you guys started this. Nikki broods less and the creative juices really seem to be flowing. And you seem really content, and me and Vince don’t want to take that from you. You just needed to be straightened out. It’s cool, just focus on the band more, okay?”

The three nodded and sighed in relief. Y/N excused herself to go lie down because it had been a long day, and Nikki followed. Tommy would have, but insisted that Nikki’s bedroom was too stuffy for the Los Angeles heat with no air conditioner. The bassist opened the window in his bedroom to allow for some air flow as the manager removed her shirt and pants to lie down on the dark sheets.

“Were you serious when you talked about us taking a break?” Nikki asked, sitting on the floor beside the bed.

“Only half. If it would be better for the band, I think we could all agree on it. But it would kill me not to be with you and T-Bone anymore,” She whispered.

“Yeah, I get it. I don’t think I could go back to not being with you two dumbasses,” He cracked a smirk, “The bed’s too big without a couple extra warm bodies next to me.”

“I bet you’d write some killer breakup songs, though. Everybody loves a heartbreak,” She joked, fanning herself with a magazine from the table.

“I wouldn’t love this heartbreak,” Nikki sighed, leaning his head on the mattress, inches away from hers.

She took the memo and kissed him deeply before the sounds of chaos erupted from the living room.

“Damn it, Tommy! Don’t drink all the beer!” Vince whined, “Grab another one and I’ll... I’ll shoot you with a staple gun!”

“Did you leave your bag out there?” Nikki whispered.

“Mhm,” Y/N hummed.

“Is your staple gun from the store in it?”

“Mhm, wh—“

There was a metallic pop, followed by shouting.

“FUCK, BLONDIE! YOU MISSED MY EYE BY AN INCH!” Tommy shrieked.

“HALF AN INCH!” Vince yelled back.

“Oh, fuck,” The couple in the bedroom sighed in unison, before going out to join back in the chaos.

Tag list: @jayprettymuchomw @kayladurin @crazysaladchopshop @iamtiber-andtiberismusic @loveofmyloif @saints-of-the-universe @tommyfuckinlee @oh-well1 @cranberribread @princesadeltoro @prostidudes-for-justice @miriampraez @tarahell @n-osebleed @valentines-in-london @bohemian-war @cuntlord0606 @holding-on-to-my-youth @abbysdogcollar @deacontaylormercurymay @fuckyeah-motleycrue

#motley crue #the dirt #bass daddy #nikki sixx #tommy lee #t bone #nikki #tommy #nikki sixx imagine #tommy lee imagine #nikki sixx smut #tommy lee smut #nikki sixx fluff #tommy lee fluff

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writingismyhappytime · 4 years

Text

The Christmas Party

Ryan Sitkowski x Reader

Warnings: Language, Smut

A/N: Merry Christmas, @happys-crazy-queen22

"Why don't we get out of here?" You sigh, leaning into Ryan's side, his arm casually looped over your shoulder to keep you close, a drink held in his other hand. He knows you're restless, you don't particularly like coming to the events his studio throws, you find them incredibly boring. It's usually celebrating a new album release, sales, something like that, and you typically do good for the first hour, it's just after that your attention wanders. This time it's a Christmas party, nicely decorated, with the scented pine cones and a large tree strung with popcorn and guitar ornaments.

"Just a little longer," Ryan presses a kiss into your hair, ignoring the pout on your lips. You look as bored as you feel, you'd gotten over your excitement from the free food and glasses of eggnog early on. "You know this one is important. They wanted us all here to celebrate."

"Do you realize they've played the same song five times now?" You grumble, the light glinting off your black nails as you start to sip from your cup. They keep playing music from the different bands from their label instead of Christmas carols. "Whoever did their playlist apparently really likes hearing you scream in the background. Here I thought I was the only one who got to hear you scream."

Ryan pinkens slightly, but no one seemed to hear your comment. There's a large crowd, so many people a person is easily lost in the group, so it's loud with the chatter and music. "(Y/N)."

"Don't you think we'd have more fun somewhere else?" You say suddenly, getting an idea. You send him a sly look beneath your long lashes, your lips curving. You can think of ten different things you could be doing --- specifically to the good looking man at your side. "I mean, we could still technically be at the party."

Your boyfriend looks down at you, recognizing your tone. So you want to sneak off somewhere and have a little fun? He's not exactly opposed, the party is in full swing, half of his band is talking to their producer, so everyone is pretty preoccupied. .

Still, there's not exactly a lot of places the two of you can go, it might not be a good idea. "Maybe here isn't the best place," he hedges, green eyes flicking across the room. He shifts slightly from where he leans back against one of the tables, hearing you sigh indignantly.

Fine.

You finish off your drink before setting your cup down, straightening and stepping out from beneath his arm. Your smooth your fingers down your dress, brushing any wrinkles out of the black material; you tried to dress really nice today for his party, right down to your black stilettos that always make your legs look fantastic, the diamonds glinting in your ears a perfect addition to set off the darkness of your outfit.

You only wish Ryan appreciated the effort, he said you looked nice but you weren't content with that! He could have said you looked beautiful, or sexy, or told you all the things he'd like to do to you once he got you out of that dress, but no, just "you look nice, let's go, we're already late."

Ugh.

Your eyes flick about the room, and eventually you spy Vinny, standing rather off to himself, looking at his phone. He looks as bored as you feel, so at least there's one person who'll understand your plight. Someone steps up to Ryan, talking and distracting him for a moment, so you take the opportunity to escape, trotting over to the youngest member of the band.

"Hey, Vin," you sigh, tugging one of the metal chairs out from beneath the round table and sitting down in it with a flounce. You prop your chin on your hand, your painted eyes flicking up to his where he looks surprised. "Are you as bored as I am?"

"Uh," Vinny shifts a little, clicking the screen of his phone before looking at you. "I mean, it's a work party, so..."

"So it's supposed to be boring? Right. They couldn't even have some champagne or liquor to keep the poor unfortunate souls from losing interest," you complain, leaning back in your chair. You gesture at Vinny to join you at the table, and after a moment he does, albeit reluctantly; he knows you're Ryan's girlfriend, he's met you plenty of times, but he doesn't think he's ever had a conversation with you where it's just explicitly the two of you --- although he can't really think that, the entire room is packed with people.

"Most of the guys don't drink."

"Sure, but what about the rest of us?" You roll your eyes, shifting in your seat again. You want your boyfriend to agree to leave so you can go have some fun, even if the two of you only make it to the car. You can usually get Ryan to bend to your will, he's such a passive person, if not a perfectionist when it counts. You just get frustrated that he always wants to play by the rules, that he's not spontaneous.

You want to have some fun, make memories, and this is so not up to your standards! There's not even any games! No "pin the eyebrow on the lead singer," or "how many guitarists does it take to change a lightbulb." Just boring speeches by old white men and the occasional eyeball from the security who aren't checking you out but are more likely wondering what you're going to steal.

Come on, does it really look like there's room in this dress that you could hide something? It's pretty tight as it is, you doubt you could hide an award down the front. Someone would definitely question the bulge --- although these days, maybe not.

"Where's Ryan?"

"Over there talking to that short guy."

"Uh. Ricky?"

"Yeah," you frown, tapping your nails impatiently on the white tablecloth. Why is it always white? It stains so easily, you'd think they'd go for a different color. Red, considering the occasion, would have been a much better choice.

Hmm.

You wonder how you can seduce Ryan at his work party. Maybe flash him a little, cross your legs so he can catch a peek, something to motivate him to leave! Maybe he doesn't really like how you look tonight, what if he dislikes your dress, is that why he's not interested? If he didn't like your outfit he should have said so!

Hmph.

Wait... you suddenly have an idea!

You purse your lips before grabbing a napkin off the table, grabbing one of the pens from the cup in the middle you assume has a logical reason for being there. You scribble something on the napkin before folding it in half, abruptly offering it to Vinny from between your fingers. "Be a pal and give this to Ryan for me, would you?"

"Uh, you want me to give him a napkin?" Vinny blinks, reluctantly taking it.

"Yes. And unless you want your ears to turn red, don't read it either," You wink at him, amused as he immediately turns a bright shade of red as you rise from the table. You tug a little at the hem of your dress as it rides up, but you don't mind it short, you like showing off your legs. "Thanks, Vinny."

"Uh. No problem."

~~~~~~~~~~

Ryan can't believe he's doing this.

He can't believe you did that to Vinny! The poor kid looked incredibly uncomfortable as he shuffled up to Ryan, handing him a folded napkin like it was burning his flesh. He mumbled something your boyfriend couldn't hear before disappearing off into the crowd, and Ryan had flipped the napkin open curiously.

Meet you in you-know-who's office if you want to have a real party.

Considering there's only one person you dislike the most at the label company and you know where their office is, he knows exactly where you are. He sighs as he takes the elevator, leaning back on his heels as it slowly goes a few floors up. The doors ding, revealing a red-carpeted hallway, the walls lined with pictures of bands and performers, records and stars telling of their music.

He exhales heavily as he starts down them, seeing the door at the very end closed, the frosted glass hiding the interior. He glances around nervously, but everyone is downstairs, so he's not really worried that anyone will see him. He gives it a moment before he opens the door, nearly rolling his eyes.

"(Y/N)."

"Took you long enough," you sigh, sitting in his producers chair, your feet propped up on his desk as you twist one of his hats around in your delicate fingeres. "I've been in here for a few minutes, I almost thought you weren't coming."

"You really sent Vinny to be your messenger? He'll be scarred." Ryan chuckles, amused as he glances at your relaxed pose; man, his producer would have a heart attack if he saw either of you in here right now.

"Oh, it's good for him! Besides, I didn't write anything bad on the napkin, I just made him think I did," you chuckle, carelessly tossing the hat away. The office is dark, you hadn't bothered to turn on any lights, hadn't wanted any extra attention after all, but there's just enough light to see by thanks to what's filtering through the blinds. "And it worked, didn't it? No one will notice that we're gone."

"We have a speech in like twenty minutes."

"Guess we better make the most of our time then, hmm?" You drop your feet off the desk, quickly standing as he shuts the door firmly behind him, flicking the lock just in case. He would be mortified if someone walked in on the two of you, he'd never live it down.

You grin as you near him, your fingers curling in his collar as you force him to take a step back into the door, pleased that you have him all to yourself. He's just yours right now, you don't have to share his attention with anyone else. You take a moment to glance him over, from his dark hair to the button up shirt he wore tonight, admiring the handsome man who somehow decided dating you was a good idea. He looks so good, just like he always does.

You love the scent of his cologne, it's familiar and comforting. You like how his eyes crinkle in the corners when he smiles at you, the deep rumble of his laugh when you catch him off guard with a smart comment. You adore this man, everything about him, from his kisses to his voice to his pretty eyes and his gorgeous... everything.

He's perfect.

Your eyes flick to his and you give him a coy smile, your talented fingers already working on the buttons of his shirt. Ryans hand rises to cup your cheek, tilting your chin gently so his lips can find yours and slow the pace. You feel so soft and warm against him, so eager for his touch, that he can't help but pull you closer, his tongue parting your lips to hungrily take control.

Ryan would never do this with anyone else, but there's a level of trust between the two of you he's never had before. He knows you're doing this for fun, to keep your love life interesting, not because you're going to blast social media about it later or tell all your friends. Everything he's ever told you has never gone anywhere else, and it makes caring about you all that much easier.

You giggle as he urges you to step back, only a few feet until you feel the producers desk against your thighs. You shift, easily lifting yourself up onto the rough surface, Ryan's lips still glued to yours as you both fight for dominance over the kiss --- he's always so quiet and laidback, no one would ever expect him to always want to be in control when in bed. You don't mind it of course, you like a man who knows what he wants.

Your thighs part as you tug him closer, already urging his shirt off his shoulders, cold fingers pulling impatiently on the black t remaining until you manage to wiggle it off of him as well. You can feel your tight dress ride up against your hips, your eyes roving the tattoos that decorate his skin --- you like them so much, they fit him perfectly, and god why is it guys are always so much hotter when they're inked?

Ryan's fingers slip up to your shoulders, tugging at the black straps there holding your dress up. You shrug them off, hearing rather than feeling him jerk on the zipper roughly, dragging it down your back and letting the cool air rush against your skin until you shiver. His lips are already on your throat, feathering kisses and nips across your sensitive neck as his hips push into yours, your thighs rising higher on his waist.

You hastily put one hand back to hold you up, biting your lip as your fingers curl into his thick black hair. You've never had sex on someone else's desk before, so this is going to be a nice experience. His fingers curl around your waist, gliding up to tug on the top of your dress, dragging it down until it's bunching at your hips. Your thighs tighten slightly against his torso, and you have no idea how turned on he is right now --- you're always so spontaneous, ready to get into some kind of trouble and drag him with you, but it's always worth it.

He sighs softly as your hips shift tantalizingly against his again, causing his jeans to grow increasingly uncomfortable. He wishes he had hours to kiss every inch of your skin, to show you how much he wants you with his lips, but there's just not the time --- he'll have to wait until he gets you back to your apartment. He pulls you tighter against him, making sure you can feel just exactly what you're doing to him, and you don't even have to try!

His fingers twitch at the thought of touching you, and he knows you're rubbing your chest against his enticingly, your fingers stroking through his black hair as he nibbles and kisses at your throat, just how he knows always gets you in the mood. He can tell by the way you're shifting you like it, the thin material of your panties all that's keeping him from your heat.

His fingers glide up your side, leaving goosebumps in their wake as they shamelessly cup your breast, giving a firm squeeze. You moan softly in his ear, your skin flushing just at the thought of what you're going to do to him.

When your mischevious eyes flick to his, his grip on you flexes, recognizing the gleam. You're in the mood to cause as much trouble for him as possible, and he doesn't have the mind to tell you no, either. So when you shift, urge him to take a step back so you can get to your feet, he lets you turn him around. His thighs press against the back of the desk as you drop to your knees, his eyes shamelessly focusing on the lovely pair of tits you have as you tug his jeans down his hips.

This is why he loves you.

Well, not this specifically, but the rest of you.

Okay, that's --- no, that's not what he means. He hasn't told you how he feels yet, and obviously, if he states it like that you'll blow him off and roll your eyes. He means he just... well, you're spontaneous where he's a stick in the mud, you make him want to be adventurous, get out of his comfort zone more often. He would never do something like this with someone else, he wouldn't have the guts.

You just... you just seem to bring out the best in him, and he doesn't want to live without your coy giggles or that look in your eye when you're about to start trouble. He's head over heels for you and he thinks he was from the very beginning. According to the guys, he's never looked at anyone like he does you, although he doesn't know what look they're talking about. He just knows you're the only woman in the world for him.

It's why ---- oh, fuck, that feels good.

Your fingers are curled around the base of his cock, your lips parted as you slowly begin to lick your way down his shaft. You're gazing up at him, and he knows you'd be smirking if you could. You pride yourself on your skills, and he's never once had any reason to doubt you, this is no exception.

"Fuck..." Ryan groans softly as your mouth envelopes his throbbing length, warm and wet and so very inviting. His tattooed fingers thoughtlessly tangle into your hair, curling through the soft locks as he tilts his head back slightly, eyes closing. His free hand curves against the edge of the desk, holding tight as you begin to work him over, your tongue grazing the underside of his cock, making its way all the way to his tip before starting again.

You like it when Ryan swears, it's how you know you're getting to him. He can be so uptight sometimes, but usually a good blowjob makes him putty, it's his weakness, you've learned. It's also how you get him to agree with you or convince him that you're right, he's very swayable when he's relaxed.

Your lips take more of his cock between them, hearing that deep rumble of pleasure start in his chest as your fingers curl around his thigh. You're sucking with just enough pressure, bobbing your head, his shaft pillowed by your hot, damp tongue that he thinks is made of magic. You hum softly when he groans again, pleased before you reluctantly pull back, not wanting to take it too far, after all. You still want your fun.

"Isn't this a lovely party?" you purr as your fingers lightly caress his shaft, your tongue flicking against his head teasingly. "We should come back next year."

"Mmm-hmm," Ryan doesn't care about the party at this point, Freddy Krueger could show up and terrorize everyone and he'd ignore the screams. His eyes are for you only, on the gleam of your painted lips, your eyes, that chest just demanding attention his fingers are itching to give.

He can't stand it.

His cock is throbbing, aching in your talented fingers are you caress and tease his head with your tongue, torturing him slowly. His brain has switched gears, he just wants you, on this desk, your thighs tight around his hips as you hold onto the table for dear life.

When he urges you to your feet, when his hands clasp your cheeks so he can kiss you, you don't argue. One of the things you adore about Ryan, is that he makes every moment count. From the first time you slept together to even now, you don't feel like it's just a fuck to him, it's... different, with him. The way he wants to kiss you, show you affection even when you're getting rough with each other, you like that. He has his own way about him that you're not sure you'll ever have with anyone else, and you're not sure you want too.

You've not been together too long of a time, but so far it's been your favorite relationship.

You can't help but smirk as you feel the desk behind you again, Ryan's lips eager on yours as his hands close around your hips, lifting you just enough to shift you onto the desk. Your thighs open for him, letting him return between them without hesitation as your tongue traces his. All you can smell is his cologne, feel the rough brush of his stubble against your jaw, the warmth of his arms as they close around you. He's holding you to him, taking just a minute to kiss you, not rushing to the finish line like everyone else.

Another reason you're a little concerned you're going to fall for this guy.

You shift where you sit, feeling his warm hands coast up your bare thighs, urging your dress around your waist and out of his way. Your fingers curl instinctively at the corner of the desk as he works the thin material keeping him from having his way with you off, and you lift your legs just enough to let it disappear into the floor --- you hope you don't forget those in his producer's office.

"Ryan," you sigh impatiently as you tug on his hips, urging him higher between your thighs. Your hand cups his cock as you feather kisses down his jaw, hearing his intake of breath. You're not sure how long you've been gone from the party, but you figure you better speed this along before someone starts missing the rockstar.

You lean back, letting your elbow bend to better hold your weight, Ryan's lean frame over yours. He takes only a brief moment to nuzzle your breasts before you feel the head of his cock at your heat. He strokes your damp folds with his length, bumping your clit teasingly as his tongue languidly circles your breast. Your teeth dig into your lower lip as you watch him, squirming against his teasing cock.

"Ryan," you whine. You need to move this along, despite the fact you're enjoying yourself. The attention to your chest feels good, he always has a tendency to kiss and suck and lick and just generally give your tits plenty of the appreciation they deserve, but you feel like you deserve the whole package right now too! You're impatient for his cock.

You feel him smile against your heated skin, and you groan as he suddenly pushes his hips forward, easing the head of his throbbing cock inside of you. Your head falls back in pleasure as he slowly enters you, thighs widening to accommodate.

Ryan exhales heavily as your heat closes around him, hugging and squeezing every ridge of his hardness as he pushes deeper. His eyes are on your face, admiring the gleam on your parted lips as your hips meet, bringing the two of you as close as you could possibly be. His arms lips beneath your lower back, pulling you flush against him, hearing your light gasp with satisfaction. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as your arms curve around his neck, and you moan as he begins moving, thrusting inside of you forcefully enough to move the desk.

You can't help but kiss his neck, his jaw, his lips --- whatever you can reach. You can feel his muscles beneath your fingertips as they draw down his back, clasping his hips and urging him to fuck you as hard as he can. You love it when he does, when he just bends you over and you fuck the daylights out of each other --- the back of the sofa, on the kitchen counter, there was one time at band camp...

"Fuck, you feel amazing," you breathe, feeling a rush of heat throughout your body. Your knuckles are almost white where they grip the shaking desk, absently hearing items start to roll-off or clatter to the floor --- well that sounded like it broke.

You hook one leg tight against his lower back, spreading the other further apart. You shudder as his angle changes slightly, his cock easily gliding between your wet folds; he groans when you wiggle your hips, when you squeeze his length and murmur hotly in his ear what you're going to do to him the moment you two get home --- you have a feeling you'll be leaving the party early after this.

Ryan is going to have a heart attack, he just knows it. His heart races as he listens to your whispers and taunts, your fingers stroking down his damp skin. Fucking you on a desk in his boss' office, your dress tangled at your waist, displaying your delectable body --- he didn't realize it was on his bucket list until now. Your tits bounce with every hard thrust, and he can tell you're trying not to be loud, considering the environment, but there's no one on this floor, everyone's downstairs, and --- he wants you loud.

"Ungh, fuck, Ryan!"

There you go.

He smirks as he grinds his hips into yours, forcing you hard against the desk as his fingers suddenly pinch your clit. He feels you jerk beneath him, thighs squeezing hard around his waist as you tense abruptly. There's a rush of electricity through your veins so abrupt you're caught off guard, your skin flushing as you bury your face against his neck helplessly.

You're soaking his cock at this point, that felt so good. You love it when he's rough, when he takes control, when he doesn't ask but just does. He knows what your limits are, how much you can take, and you welcome the surprise when he's ready to take control. You don't mind being the instigator of course, but...

"I love your cock," you whimper as his hips buck harder into yours, clenching your fingers so tightly they start to ache against the smooth wood below you. He's holding you so tightly against it him you might as well be in his lap, his hands cupping your ass and squeezing. He can feel you shudder in his arms, you're panting, one hand clinging to him as your head tilts back once more.

He can tell you're on the verge of cumming, you're squeezing him, pressing your lips hard against his shoulder. He nudges you, urging you to lie back against the desk, knowing your arm is shaking with trying to hold yourself up at this angle.

He tugs you roughly to the edge of the desk, bracing his arms on either side of you as he kisses you, his fingers caressing up your trembling thighs as his cock enters you over and over. There's a roaring in his ears as you fuck, he can barely hear your panting breaths, the sounds of your body meeting, the shaking, and the jingling of what remained of the items on the desk.

Your fingers dig into his bare sides, pulling him hard against you where he leans over you. Your nails skim his flesh as you kiss him, your tongue parting his lips and desperately finding his own. He's cupping your breast, pinching and rolling your sensitive nipple between his fingers while your cling to him. There's a deep throbbing inside of you, on the cusp of taking over, of throwing you into the chaotic pleasure you crave. The harder he thrusts inside of you, the better it feels, and you find your back arching off the desk as he finds your swollen clit, your body going rigid beneath his.

Ryan's thrusts are relentless, even when your back arches and you threaten to cum on his producer's desk. He loves the sharp feel of your nails digging into his skin, the sheen of sweat on your chest he can just barely see in the darkness of the room. His arm thoughtlessly sweeps to the side as he moves a stack of papers out of his way, barely hearing them scatter to the floor so he can have more room.

Why is that so hot?

Your body clenches around his, hugging tight to his heavenly cock. The desk is wanting to creak beneath the two of you, and you're so tense, on the edge, on the precipice of pleasure --- you just need a push, a nudge, a bump ---!

The closer you draw to your own pleasure, the closer Ryan is getting to his. He lets his eyes close for a brief moment, enjoying the feel of your bodies together. Being with you feels so good, so right, he never wants to not be with you. Sometimes he finds it hard to believe that you enjoy being with him so much, but when you're together like this, even after a fight --- there's nowhere else he'd rather be.

Your fingers slip to the nape of his neck, caressing through his dark hair and causing him to shudder. He has no idea how much fun you have with him, when you can get him out of his comfort zone, that is. This is probably one of your best ideas to date, plus you're also riding high on the mess you've made of this desk and its contents --- you're going to have to start doing this more often.

"We should," Ryan agrees with a rasp, and you realize you must have said that out loud. You give a breathless laugh that ends on a moan, your nails abruptly digging into him as he finally gives you that nudge you'd been dying for. His lips find yours, stifling your moan of pleasure as you cum beneath him, that heat inside of you finally exploding into fireworks that take over.

Ryan rides it out with you, unable to hold back a moment longer. He presses his forehead against yours with a gasp, his fingers clenching against the desk as he groans and shudders.

Fuck.

Best Christmas party ever.

"I don't think I mind coming to work events anymore," you manage after a moment, brushing errant strands of hair out of your eyes as they slowly find his. You're still gently caressing the nape of his neck, and it's such a soothing, comforting feeling. He presses a kiss against your neck before lifting up, arching a black brow.

"I thought you hated them."

"You made me change my mind," you give him a half-smile, content. If it wasn't for the fact that a desk isn't comfortable to lay on, you'd never want to move! You wish the two of you could stay in this moment forever, just enjoy yourselves, well, more.

Just wait till you get him home.

~~~~~~~

You hastily smooth your dress down your thighs as the two of you leave the elevator heading for the party, realizing that you're nearly late for his so important speech. You make sure that your hair is back into place after the mess he made out of it, your dress is zipped, and you think you're good! He looks fine of course, except his hair is a little messy, but you like the look on him so you're not going to mention it.

You smile warmly at him as his fingers curl through yours, squeezing. You lean into him as you both make it to the hallway where you can see the Christmas party in full swing, everyone pretending to have a good time. You know you're definitely not as bored as you were earlier, that's for sure.

"I don't think we missed your speech," you murmur as you stop in the door, seeing the makeshift stage is still empty and it doesn't look like anyone's buzzing around waiting for some grand announcement.

"Oh good," Ryan looks relieved. "Chris won't murder me then for skipping out."

"Mmmhmm," you smooth at the collar of his shirt absently, your eyes flicking up. "Oh, look."

Ryan glances up, noticing the mistletoe hanging above his head. "Haven't you had enough of me, already?"

"Oh, I could never have too much of you," you chuckle, tugging on the front of his t shirt and drawing him to you. You grin up at him, glad that you're wearing heels as you look at him expectantly for a kiss. "You wouldn't tell me no, would you?"

"No."

"Ryan."

He chuckles, and his fingers rise, tilting your chin a little more before he kisses you. You lean into him, tightening your grip on his shirt as you deepen the kiss, absently listening to the chatter of the crowd and the vague sound of Christmas music. It's such a perfect moment, kissing your boyfriend beneath the twinkling lights, the soft music, the warm smell of cookies and his cologne.

You couldn't wish for a better Christmas.

Also wait.

You were wearing panties earlier, weren't you?

#ryansitkowski #secretsanta #Ryan Sitkowski #ryan sitkowski smut #ryan sitkowski christmas party surprise #smut

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joseph-mazzellos · 4 years

Text

THE OCEAN OF YOUR EYES | PART ONE

Happy birthday, Ana! I love you!

Word count: 2.1k

Character: Arthur Barone x Original Character (Inspired by a friend)

The sun was high in the sky, making this one of the hottest days of the year. There should have been a rule against playing baseball when the temperatures could have melted the rainbow sprinkles off the ice cream faster than the time it took the D-Backs to grab it in their hands to start their pre-game ritual, but there was something between those boys and baseball that not even a scorcher like that day could have broken. Ty was already pacing back and forth in the dugout, worried that half of his players hadn’t yet shown up, whilst the other team was already stretching out in the field. They had never been the most professional team in the league, but somehow - with a little luck and a lot of help from Maz’s impeccable record, they had managed to make it to the semi-finals this year as well. Ana had never cared much for baseball, it was never a very popular sport back home, but ever since she had met Emily she had slowly learnt how to appreciate the game - or at least, how fun it was to watch a bunch of guys hit very small balls and shout a bunch of words she didn’t fully comprehend. Since Emily was engaged to one of the guys on the team, and she was the sister of not one, but two of the players, she really didn’t have much of choice of where to spend her Saturday afternoons, but it had started being slightly more bearable ever since Ana had agreed to join her and keep her company on the bleachers. They were definitely not the Yankees, so there were rarely more than a handful of people sitting there with them, but Emily always made sure she brought a little banner to encourage her fiancée Vinnie, who wasn’t exactly the best player in the team.

“Oh good, looks like my brother is already losing his mind”

Emily said, waiving in the direction of the dugout when she caught Ty’s eyes, but he was too distracted by something to wave back.

“We better hope and pray that they don’t get to the finals, then. The stress alone might kill him.”

Ana smiled at her friend, gaining a small laugh as she distractedly looked for Vinnie behind the metal fence.

“Losing is just not something I do, baby girl”

Ana didn’t even have to turn around to know who was talking to her, and she made sure she turned to face him before rolling her eyes, not wanting to let him think for one second that he had an effect on her.

“If only you could hit as well as you can bullshit your way into conversations, Barone, you’d be the first team in the league”

Ever since the first day he met her, Barone had been intrigued by Ana. It wasn’t only the fact that she was one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen. Her dark chocolate coloured hair fell perfectly on her back, long enough to fall right above another feature that he hadn’t failed to notice from the first day. Her eyes were a shade of brown lighter than her hair, and he had thought he had never seen eyes as bright as hers. When he first introduced himself to her, he had broken up with his girlfriend only a few days before. That felt like the perfect opportunity to meet someone knew, and he had never seen a rebound like her before. She had the potential to become one of those few things he was passionate about. Little did he know, though, that she wasn’t going to make it easy on him at all. When she straight up rejected him, giving the D-Backs something to laugh about for a whole week, he had found himself even more intrigued by the incredibly beautiful girl going to every one of his games, but not giving him the time of day. They had started this game, where he would say something to annoy her just to see her eyes roll and a proud smile form on her lips at her usually witty retorts.

“I could always show you other things I am very good at”

He moved his face closer to the fence were she was standing and she promptly pushed his face away from her, her tiny hand barely covering half of his face. She felt a shiver at the contact of her hand against his stubble, pulling back quickly as she brushed off the sensation as annoyance.

“Why don’t you go stretch, playboy. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt... By someone other than me.”

She gave him her best fake smile, and he took it in and metaphorically put it in his pocket to revisit later when he was alone. He still needed to work hard if he ever wanted to be on the receiving end of one of her real, brighten-up-the-whole-room smiles, but for now this was all he could hope for. He just responded with a smirk, as he started walking backwards towards the dug our where Ty was about to pop a vein in his neck as he tried to call him.

“He sure is persistent.”

Emily said, with a small smirk, looking at her best friend.

“He needs to take a hint.”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like you enjoy your little exchanges more than you let on. They make the games way more exciting.”

Ana roller her eyes again, it felt like everything she was capable of doing when the subject of the conversation was Barone.

“I think these games are exciting enough with all those lunatics.”

She teasingly said, desperate to change the subject as she started thinking that maybe her friend knew her better than she cared to admit. She had been hanging out with a few guys in her class at uni, and they all seemed pretty interested in her, but she never got the little spark of excitement when talking to them that she did when Barone was around. It didn’t help that he was undeniably, objectively gorgeous. She needed to focus on the grass at her feet whenever she was trying to prove to him she was unbothered by his advances, cause whenever she caught a glimpse of those blue eyes she understood a little better what all those girls throwing themselves at him were talking about. The truth was, she hated only knowing the first layer of a person. It was the reason why she had only a few really good friends that she would do anything for, and not a lot of acquaintances. She needed to know someone deeply, create a connection with them, be able to understand them. It really bothered her to know that she only knew that side of him that he wanted everyone to see. She shook herself from the train of thoughts she had boarded, and she came back to reality just in time to hear the whistle of the referee mark the start of the first inning.

Ana’s ears were still ringing from all the shouting she and Emily had been doing during the game - good shouting when the D-Backs got a hit, or they managed to run back to base, bad shouting full of profanities when the other team scored or the referee made a bad call against the boys in red. Everyone had started dispersing and Ana was looking at her phone distractedly as she waited for Emily to reappear with Vinnie, who was meant to drive them home. She was hoping to go home and take a really long shower to wash away all the dirt from the clouds of sand that the wind and the players had sent their way during the game before they met at Pat’s house to celebrate their victory. Ana had never been one for parties, but she was learning to feel comfortable around the boys and the few friends she had made through them. Plus, Em had basically begged her to go.

“You sure sounded like a little sailor during the game.”

How could she have hoped to have missed him leave? It was almost as if he had waited for her to be alone. He rested his arms on the fence, resuming the same position they were in just a couple hours earlier, as if he was trying to imply they needed to pick up the conversation where they had left it off. She ran a hand through her hair and pushed them back, casually noticing his eyes follow the movement as if he was trying to memorise it.

“Let me guess, you only like girls who say pretty please and wash your uniform for your next game.”

She tried to push his button, not knowing enough about him to be able to really comment on what he liked. So far he only seemed to really like her body and to annoy her.

“Quite the opposite, darling. I do like girls with a mouth on them. Sure, most of the time they don’t use it to insult me...”

Ana caught a glimpse of his blue eyes and felt the need to grab ahold of the fence with both hands, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of showing even the slightest sign of attraction to him, but he took that as an invitation to move even closer, so he moved his hands on the fence, each hand laying right next to hers. She could feel the warmth of his fingers against hers even if they weren’t properly touching. She needed to say something, or run away. She decided to go with the one that did not make her look like a crazy person.

“I think you might have gathered I am not one of your little cheerleaders.”

“Oh. Believe me. You’re very different.”

His tone made it sound as if it was a very good thing, but she was sure that he had nothing against his little groupies, he sure made sure they were well taken care of when they were there. Not that she had noticed how he would flirt with every single one of them every game, anyways, she had better things to think about.

“But you still root for me, though.”

“I root for the whole team, you could be sitting on the bench the whole game and I wouldn’t even notice you’re gone.”

He laughed, bringing one hand up to his face and stroking his stubble with one hand before setting it back down right next to hers.

“Interesting. I always notice when you’re gone.”

Ana started to wonder whether it was something he said to everyone or if he really meant it. She doubted he sat in the dug out noticing if she was sitting on the bleachers or not. She ruled it as bullshit in her mind and decided to reply with one of her signature eye-rolls, leaving him with something familiar. She spotted Em with the corner of her eye, and she thanked God the conversation was about to be cut short.

“See you around, Barone.”

She said, turning away from him before she could stare into his eyes again and picked up the pace to join Vinnie and Emily.

“Are you coming tonight, Barone?”

Vinnie shouted back.

“What’s tonight?”

“Drinks at Pat’s. You never come. Ana will be there.”

Ana hit Vinnie right in the chest, and he brought his hands to the spot she had hit very dramatically.

“Sure. It’s a date.”

Barone shouted in Ana’s direction, making her flip her middle finger upwards in his direction and making him smile widely.

“There’s my classy lady again.”

He just said, grabbing his bag and walking in the other direction, excited to be able to see her again, for the first time without a metal fence acting as a shield.

“I would kill you if she didn’t love you so much.”

Ana scoffed as she walked to the backseat of Vinnie’s car, thinking of how she was now very confused about her feelings regarding that night. Was she nervous to see him outside of his D-Back uniform? In a setting that wasn’t so familiar to both of them? Maybe the sand was really starting to cloud her brain.

“I thought you guys needed a little push. Em says you might be good for him.”

Em proceeded to hit him in the same exact spot Ana had just hit him previously, and he let out another dramatic groan, while Emily turned to look at her best friend with a small smile.

“Ignore him. Tonight’s going to be fun.”

#happy birthday ana!#i’m so embarrassed i have never posted anything i wrote publicly ever

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cruecifymesixx · 5 years

Text

Love and Leather /part forty three/

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: smooth sailing for our favorite toxic couple, less toxicity however. More cute shit that will probably make you cry though.

Warnings: languages, smut for a brief second, drug talk, nikki being a cute little shit.

Taglist: @brideofdraculana , @xstarryeyes , @aryssav , @miserablecunt , @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol , @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies, @fandomshit6000, @anntheboneless, @venus-calum, @justjodeye, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @are-we-real, @hi-my-name-is-riley, @extremesadnerding, @thatbandchick39, @awkwrdcait, @countrygirlswonderland, @baiabouk @awesomealmostdopestudent, @martabastic, @romanticvengeance , @tashy-bear, @krazykatkay456, @terror-triplet, @shouttatthedevill @beachystars, @rodriguez025, @kickstart-myheart-sixx, @s-outhie, @anxious-diabetic, @awkwardblackgirls, @rockersbox, @brooklyn-antiques, @shamelessobsessions, @jerseytaint, @lilytalebi, @criminalyetminimal, @motley-queen, @trapt-in-a-dream, @lunamadhatter99, @broke-n-bitchy, @thanks2pete, @slowandangry, @lovesick-heart0, @keepcalm-and-beyou, @miriampraez, @teenwolflover28, @lilyhw1, @swoopygorl, @motherloovebone, @random-internet-user-4471, @falcon-arrows, @talranocchia2001, @wheresmyvodkabitch, @waywardprincess666, @malibubarbievince, @iluvmesomemarvelndc, @vamprlestat, @supersoldierballerina, @primal-screamer@electradestiny, @marshbev, @n0-sh0rtage-0f-faults, @cruebaby, @ggorehorror, @valentines-in-london, @miss2001babe, @nassauartist@emmaelizabeth2014, @cmft-jr-winchester, @bokkie92, @notworthyofyou1120 @xrosegoldwolfx, @cranberribread, @lauravic, @mgkobsessed, @chaoticvybe, @opalrustad, @kellysimagines, @zoenicoles, @marvelismylifffe

January ‘89

I had walked through the doors of the recording studio Tommy had given me the address to last night and went straight for the room with the red light above it. I leaned my head against the door, hearing Vince’s voice as he sang to a loud beat. I took a deep breath in while my hand reached for the doorknob, slowly turning it as I walked inside, quietly shutting the door behind me.

Nikki, Tommy and Mick had their backs towards me as they were tapping their foot to the song.

Vince had seen me walk in and had a huge smile on his face, which quickly fell when Nikki paused the recording track.

“Let’s...lets just go again Vinny, this album is gonna be perfect, just...start it from the top.” My heart skipped a beat when I heard Nikki’s voice, it sounded different. Still rough, but less tiredness? I’m not sure.

“I don’t know why I gotta keep doing it, when it was fucking fine the first time. What? Now that you’re sober, you’re a perfectionist?” Vince snapped back at him, a scoff leaving his lips.

I chewed on my nail as I watched them go back and forth, “Vince, it’s just gonna be perfect. Alright, I’m sorry man. Just...just one more time, alright?” Nikki pleaded with him, I caught a glimpse of his arm, the newfound ink covering his skin.

“Y’know, maybe we should ask Vanity.” Vince said, as I covered my mouth to keep my laughs in, “Yeah, well if she was fucking here maybe we could.” Nikki groaned, resting his head in his hand as he leaned onto the soundboards.

“Go ahead and ask me.” I said sweetly, watching as Nikki turned around in the chair, dropping his bottle of water as he stood up and started walking over to me, almost tripping over the coffee table.

Nikki was swift to pull me into a tight hug, “Hey, what-what are you doing here?” He said, gripping my shoulders as he pulled away from me.

I examined everything about him, he had put weight back on, as well as some muscle. He had a nice olive complexion going on. His arms were covered in tattoos and his hair was still the same but with buzzed sides. He looked like a completely different person.

“I came to see you! All of you...wow, look at all these tattoos.” I was amazed at how much ink was in his skin, “and the hair? I love it...you look so handsome.” I told him, Tommy and Mick snickering. “Handsome...” Tommy mumbled as him and Mick laughed with one another.

I could tell Nikki was blushing, “Yeah...Uh....I had a lot of free time and much needed cover ups.” He rubbed his arm as he looked at the ink, “And, I shower again...well more frequently now, so I thought a haircut would be good.” He continued as he chewed on his bottom lip, looking down at me.

“Does that mean I have to get the tattoo on my ass covered up, now?” I scratched the top of my head, “I was just starting to like it after all this time.”

Nikki smirked as he snuck his hand around mine, “Hell no. I love that tattoo.” He stated, pulling me over to the couch as I sat down next to him. I could feel his hand sweating as he wouldn’t let go of mine.

“You look great doll, I mean you always do. But you look really good. I guess I’ve missed you a lot.” Nikki rambled, his voice was shaky as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’m really glad you’re here. How long are you staying?” Nikki asked me as I shrugged, listening to what Vince was singing.

‘Top hat to match

Dressed in black on black

She's got a Philipino girlie

She claims is her friend

I tell you boys you just gotta laugh

Now I used to call her Cindy..’

“Wow, is the new album? It sounds amazing!” I said, as Tommy turned in the chair to face me, “Sounds dope right? It’s gonna be so fucking sick.” He said, throwing up the devil horns before giving me a tight hug and picking me up off the couch.

“Because we can actually think clearly and hear the music, god that still sounds awful-Vinny c’mon man.” Nikki stopped the music again as Vince glared at him.

“Dude, seriously? What is wrong now?” Vince questioned, as I pushed down the button and spoke into the mic, “You need to sing faster, it’s not matching the tempo, you’re going too...slow.” I got quieter towards the end when they were all staring at me.

I laughed nervously as I saw Nikki’s face get scrunched up, “I Uh...I mean if you want, I’m not an expert..never mind.” I said, going to sit down on the couch. A woman with a busty top offered me a water, I quickly took a sip. I was becoming nervous.

“Sorry...” I mumbled to Nikki as I knew I overstepped my boundaries. He shook his head and turned back around, “Try it Vince.”

He sounded better, way better as the guys were all bobbing their head to the music. Nikki turned slightly and gave me a smile, nodding his head to the door as he got up. He stuck his hand out for me and I took it as he intertwined our fingers together.

We walked out to a back patio behind the building and sat down on a bench that was being shaded by a giant pine tree. I sat down at the opposite end of Nikki. I heard him chuckle as I brought a cigarette to my mouth and lit it.

“You’re nervous.” He stated as he scooted over to me, making me stand up in front of him, “Am not.” I was shaky as I dropped my cigarette. He picked it up for me before taking a drag and handing it back.

“It’s like you haven’t met us before, what’s the deal? I can tell you’re nervous.” He asked, bringing his black ray bans down to his face and stretching his arms across the back of the bench.

“I just...I haven’t met sober Nikki yet or sober Tommy, Mick and Vince. I have to get to know everyone all over again.” I explained, exhaling the smoke from my lungs as I saw his lips curl into that smirk of his.

“I’m just dumb. Ignore me.” I rambled, laughing at myself afterwards.

“I’m still me, just clear headed and not thinking about my next fix every five minutes.” He explained, pushing his hair back, “Is this about the last time we were together?” He questioned, taking off his sunglasses and folding them into the hem of his shirt.

I glanced at him before looking down at the broken up concrete that laid beneath my feet, “I just- where do we go from here Nikki? You didn’t want to talk about it when you were in rehab...”

I thought about the day he came back from the hospital every single day, how he was gone and off to rehab come the following morning.

“Could talk about it over dinner if you wanted...there’s a restaurant near the falls, it’s really nice.”

I stared at him, as I again dropped the cigarette from my fingertips, “shit...” I muttered as I picked it up.

“Dinner? Like a...uh..date?” I swallowed the lump in my throat as he smiled and stood up.

I backed away from him as he took the hint to not come any closer, “Yes, Princess. A date. You wear something nice, I’ll wear something nice and we’ll have dinner and talk it out.”

I gawked at him, not believing the words that left his mouth. This was not the Nikki that I knew a year and a half ago.

“...okay...”

*later that evening*

I was sitting in the back of the limo Nikki had sent to the hotel to get me, along with all of my luggage. I was trying to keep myself from freaking out. I was amazed when we pulled in front of the restaurant. He wasn’t lying when he said it was right by the falls, seeing it glisten as the sun was setting.

“Uh, thank you.” I said to the driver, “Have a wonderful evening.” He replied back as I got out of the limo, smoothing out my dress as I walked up the stairs, clutching onto the railing.

I opened up the door and was immediately greeted by the hostess.

“Hi, I’m meeting someone here...um Nikki Sixx? I don’t know if he’s here yet.” I explained, wrapping my arms around myself, I should’ve brought a jacket.

“Oh yes, he’s here. He’s been coming up to me every ten minutes asking if you’ve arrived. Let me take you to him.” She gave me a warm smile, motioning me to follow her.

When he saw me, he stood up and fixed his clothes. He was wearing a dark red half buttoned dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of leather pants. Typical Nikki style.

“Hey doll.” He said, kissing my cheek as he helped me into the chair, “I like the dress.” He said as he sat down, “You look hot.”

I smiled, a soft chuckle leaving my lips. “Thank you, you look hot too.” I replied, looking around at the lightly dimmed atmosphere. The table had a singular lit candle with rose petals around it that over looked the falls and the sunset.

“Wine?” A server walked up to us, holding a bottle in his hand, “Uh...” I trailed off as I looked over at him.

“For her, yes. For me, I’ll just have a water-“ the waiter began to fill up my glass half way, “You don’t need to walk on egg shells with me, it’s French wine.” He explained as I took a sip of it. It was pretty damn good.

“So, you’re not even drinking?” I questioned, as he thanked the waiter for his water.

“It’s better if I don’t. One glass turns into a bottle, a bottle turns into me being drunk all day. Cigarettes is about as far as I go now.” He explained, his eyes watching as I brought the glass to my lips again.

“And it doesn’t bother you if I’m drinking?” I clarified as he shook his head, “Just because I’m in the no fun club doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy yourself, babe. It’s fine, really.” He explained, leaning back into the chair.

“Well, why’d you stop calling me? I waited for your call everyday. I mean, I know we got into that fight, but I still wanted to talk to you.” I asked him, deciding that diving head first was the best way to go.

He laughed, “Hard hitting questions already?” I shrugged in response as he let out a sigh. “It wasn’t my idea...I wanted to keep calling you, but the stupid therapist thought it was a very bad idea with me detoxing and us fighting still, even if it was over the phone. He thought it was better to wait till I was clear headed...”

*Flashback*

I slammed down the phone after Vanity continued to bitch at me, saying there was random girls and a few drug dealers still coming over to the house.

“And what the fuck are you writing down now?” I snapped at Marcus, my therapist I was working with while I’m stuck here in rehab.

“Do you two always fight?” He questioned me, pen ready in hand to write down whatever the fuck I said so he can use it against me later.

He sighed, putting down the pen and notepad as he took off his glasses, “Fine, man to man...tell me about Vanity. We have yet to discuss your romantic relationships.”

“There is no romantic relationships. I’ve always just fucked the girls and kicked them out in the morning.” I replied, crossing my arms against my chest.

“Well, it sounds like she’s not one of those girls, so who is she? A girlfriend? An ex girlfriend?” He asked, “She’s just....I’m in love with her, man.”

“How do you know you love her?” He asked, picking up that stupid notebook I wanted to rip in half.

“I just...I just know. I want to be with her. I’ve always wanted to be with her. She’s so god damn beautiful, she’s always made me happy.”

“Is She your girlfriend?” Marcus asked, I shook my head telling him no.

“We started fucking and I fell for her. We did everything together. Slept together, partied together, did drugs together, I met her family a few times. We had a relationship without ever putting a label on it.” I explained.

“And now you want a label? Does she feel the same way?” I shrugged, “I’m sure you know, Nikki.” I shrugged again, silence filling the room for a moment as I thoroughly thought my response.

“I’m no good for her. I’ve been so fucked up towards her, I’ve hurt her a lot. But, she told me she loved me after my OD. She was at my house waiting for me to come back home. It just makes me think, what if I didn’t come back and I just left her to hide these feelings away?”I expressed as I think about the tears she shed for me every night, the look on her face when she saw me in the kitchen.

“I want to show her that I won’t hurt her ever again and that it was truly just the drugs and that I’m actually a decent guy that could be what she wants and needs.” I explained, cracking my knuckles as he looked up from his notepad he had begun writing in again

“I think you two are toxic. At least when drugs are involved. I think there’s potential for you to have a healthy relationship with her after your recovery.” He explained, as I nodded at his words.

“But, I do believe right now she is triggering for you. She’s associated with all these bad feelings and moments-“ “No, she’s not. She’s-“

He put his hand up, a signal for me to listen and stop talking, “I just watched you scream at her over the phone, and her words were pretty clear too. I don’t think it is a good idea for you to be talking, I’ll be adding her to the do not call list.”

“You can’t do that! I can talk to whoever I fucking want!! You’re a fucking idiot, I’m the one signing your god damn paychecks.”

“Nikki...” he said my name calmly, how the fuck could this motherfucker be this stoic?

“Nikki, if she loves you she will understand-“ “No she won’t, she’ll be upset.” I cut him off as I expressed my worries.

“Nikki, she wants you to get better, she will understand.”

*end flashback*

“I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did...and the way I talked to you at times. All of it was so fucked up. Every single thing I’ve done to you, I truly am sorry for.” Nikki reassured me, giving me a look of softness

I took a sip of the wine as I looked at him, “You did a lot of fucked up things to me, Nikki. I know it was because of the drugs, but it didn’t hurt any less. Your words would cut through me every time because you know me and you know just the right things to say to get under my skin, as do I for you.”

I paused as I tapped my fingers against the table.

“And it was partially my fault too, I would test your patience and make you mad just because you made me mad, and I’m sorry for that. I enabled you a lot telling you to go find it, just so you would get out of my face and I’m so sorry for that.” I chewed on my lip as he listened to me.

“I mean, sleeping with Slash was just in spite of you and that fight we had. You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve to see me having sex with him. I am sorry.” I apologized to him as he nodded.

“I deserved it. We both know I did. I am a shit person that’s a work in progress. Working through my relationships with everyone in the band, Tom, you, and eventually, picking things slowly with Deanna.” He looked at me, “I know you did, I shouldn’t have acted out like that though. Throwing the picture frame...I shouldn’t.. that-I made you cry and I felt bad...I didn’t mean to upset you the way I did....”

“I meant what I said that night though...and I know you’re scared and I already know you’ve had shit luck with guys, that’s me included. But I meant it, I do love you.”

I huffed as I pushed the menu and glass away from me, “I love you Nikki, I love you so much and when you overdosed and I thought you were dead I was extremely angry with myself, because I was a pussy and didn’t tell you how I felt that night when you said it and you’re right, I am scared. I’m fucking terrified to be with you, but I’m willing to get over it.”

*flashback*

“I know she’s scared to be with me. I mean fuck, dude. I fucking slipped her smack for starters, I pretty much called her a slut in front of all her family at her birthday party. I fucked her while she had a boyfriend as he was passed out in the bed outside the door, I don’t regret that one though. Not at all. Ryan was a fucking douche.” I smirked as Marcus let out a scoff, his face twisting up with disgust.

“I threw a picture frame at her, more than likely reminding her of her abusive ex boyfriend and then called her a slut again when I found her fucking Slash.”

Marcus wiped his glasses clean as he stared at me, “You’re an asshole.” He said as I furrowed my eyebrows together, “Fuck you, man. You can’t fucking talk to me like that!!” I yelled at him, as he stayed calm.

“I just....She makes me so mad sometimes. Cause let me tell you Vanity Blackwood is no fucking angel either, alright? Everyone thinks she is, but she isn’t. She’s stubborn, bitchy, she complains way too fucking much sometimes, even though she has everything she’s ever fucking wanted. She’s angry and she blows up and breaks things. She’s...she’s argumentative and she just knows how to test my god damn patience.” I breathed out, reaching for the water bottle as I took a sip.

“Just let me fucking call her, please? I miss her.” I admitted as he shook his head, “No, not yet.” He retorted as I let out at a groan.

“So you two have always fought?” He asked as I nodded, “Always, rather it be bickering about what to watch or a full blown screaming match that ends in her walking away from me crying.”

“Do you think by her walking away from you, it sets off your abandonment issues?” I nodded as I looked down at my hands.

“I’m scared she’s gonna leave and not come back. That’s when I would panic and lock myself away, slam needle after needle into whatever vein I could find.”

“So, she drove you to shoot up?” He sounded concerned, “Did she shoot up with you?”

I chuckled, “God no, I would have lost my shit if she ever tried to touch it, the most she ever did with me was blow. She doesn’t like the pills and she doesn’t like smoking anything other then cigarettes.”

“So the feelings are real? It wasn’t just the drugs?” He questioned, writing down something.

“No. It was never the drugs. They fucked with my head, but I know what I feel for her is real.”

*end flashback*

Nikki’s eyes lit up as I saw the smile form across his lips, “I love you too...and we can take things easy, you know? Don’t have to rush.”

“So I’m guessing we’re not sleeping together tonight? If we’re not rushing?” I said, half joking as I finished off the glass of wine.

“Yeah, were not. We can lay down, cuddle. Watch a movie or something...” He explained slowly as the smile I had left my face, his smile copying mine almost simultaneously.

“Oh....” I said, ending the gaze I had upon him, “Can I have some more wine?” I asked a server, grabbing his arm to stop him as he walked past our table. I sat in silence as he poured another half glass.

“I mean....that’s fine. I don’t care.” feeling pure embarrassment, I buried my face in the menu to avoid looking at him.

I just assumed we would y’know? That he would be more than happy to fuck my brains out again.

“I know it’s not ideal...And trust me I want to, but I seriously want to do this right, Vanity.” Nikki expressed, I glanced over to him for a split second, “No, yeah, that’s fine.” I said quickly.

“Am I fucking up already?” He asked, the tone of his voice oozed hesitation.

“No! No you’re fine...I just assumed that we would, we don’t have to. I like slow, we can take it as slow as we want, babe.” I reached for his hand, “so many tattoos now.” I said, turning over his hand and seeing them all up along his arm, “I like them. You need a tattoo for me next.” I joked as he smiled, “Don’t tempt me, I’ll go get your name tattooed on me tomorrow.” He laughed, as I rolled my eyes, I smiled, knowing he wasn’t joking either.

After dinner and some rehab stories involving Nikki almost throwing a chair out a window due to all of his frustrations, his therapist apparently pushed his limits. But, I think he was just doing his job. He mentioned Vince crying on Micks shoulder during a group therapy session. I could only imagine how Mick reacted.

Nikki had drove us back to the condo he has been living in for the last little bit, it was rather small for his rockstar taste but it had a killer view of the ocean.

I stood in the middle of his bedroom as I looked out the sliding glass door that led to a balcony, “I mean, it has nothing like the view in Van Nuys, but it’s nice.” He expressed as he stood next to me. I turned and looked up at him, his eyes met mine which eventually made me look away from him.

“Are we gonna watch a movie?” I asked, stepping over to his bed and sitting on the edge of it. I crossed one leg over the other as he looked at me, he was keeping his distance still, I think he was having a hard time controlling himself.

He cleared his throat, “Yeah...I uh...I have a few you can pick from...” He said, grabbing a few Blockbuster VHS tapes and handing them to me.

The Lost Boys. Full Metal Jacket. Lethal Weapon. Dirty Dancing. I handed him Lethal Weapon. I’ve seen it a million times already, so I wouldn’t have to pay attention and I could test how serious he actually is about not sleeping together tonight.

“Can I have something to wear?” I asked him, as he turned around to look away from the tv and at me.

“Your bags are downstairs.” He said as I raised an eyebrow, narrowing my eyes as I looked at him, “But..uh, here.” He said, crossing the bedroom as he went to the dresser, pulling out an old T-Rex shirt and handing it to me, “Thanks...”I mumbled as he went to the bathroom and quickly came out in sweats and no shirt. God damn, the tattoos were all the way across his chest too.

“What is that!?” I laughed as I poked his nipple ring, he looked down with a smirk on his pink lips.

“Like it? I thought it was cool.” He confessed as he laid down on his side of the bed, back propped up against the headboard. “I like it a lot actually, it’s surprising.” I explained as he laughed, “You should get yours done then.” I rolled my eyes as he laughed again, before watching the previews of the movie.

I kicked off my heels and slipped out of the dress, I heard him exhale deeply as it fell down my legs. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him glaring at my body. His eyes wandering to the matching black laced bra and thong I was wearing.

“I’m gonna make popcorn..” he grumbled, as I watched him get off the bed and stomp out of the room. I giggled to myself as I slipped on the shirt quickly and got into the bed.

*Nikki’s POV*

I almost ripped the damn bag in half as I started pouring the popcorn into the bowl. I knew she was doing this shit on purpose. I’m really trying so god damn hard to control myself. Trust me, I want nothing more than to fuck her right now. To feel her underneath me and moaning into my ear as I fuck her how she loves it. I just didn’t want to do that yet, I wanted to take my time. It would be better for the both of us even if she agreed with me or not.

I pushed those thoughts to the side when I walked back into my room, seeing her laying on my bed, legs crossed at her ankles. The shirt was raised up a little bit, showing off her naval piercing and that rose tattoo on her hip.

I felt like it was the first time again, that night I slipped her smack that’s when I saw her out of clothes for the first time. And man, did I need another cold shower again.

I laid in the bed next to her, putting the bowl of popcorn in between us for it to act as some type of barrier so she couldn’t try anything, but of course, why would I think that would stop her?

“I really love this hairstyle, Nikki. You look sexy.” She said, grazing her nails over the shaved sides of my head. I ran my fingers through my hair, “It’s cool, right?” I looked over at her, my gaze quickly falling to her plump lips. “I wanted something different, and Tommy had me shave his.”

She turned on her side to face me, her thigh laying on top of mine as she trailed her nails over the tattoos on my chest, “You trusted T-bone with a razor?” She laughed as she laid her head on my shoulder, “The blood shed was minimal.” I said, pulling her closer and kissing the the top of her head.

She relaxed as she laid against me, her arm wrapping around my waist as she held me close to her. I sighed under her touch, but tensed up shortly after when her fingers drifted across the top of my sweats. My eyes followed her every move as she began to play with the drawstring of the pants.

“Vanity...” I warned, grabbing her hand and holding it tight. She in return, looked up at me with a shit eating grin, “What, Sixx? I’m just watching the movie.” She batted her eyelashes innocently as she placed a soft kiss on my chest.

“I know what you’re doing.” I muttered as she smirked at me, “What are you talking about? I’m not doing anything, Nikki.” She smiled, biting her bottom lip as she ran her fingers through my hair.

I caught her wrist and glared at her, “Stop...” I pleaded as she nodded. Her actions proved otherwise when she pulled her wrist away from my grip as she got on top of me, straddling my waist.

“You’re really telling me you don’t want to touch me?” She looked down at me intently, grabbing my hands and putting them on her hips. I clutched her hips and the shirt, feeling her slowly grind against me.

“Doll, c’mon...just, let’s just watch-“ I stopped talking, letting out a groan when she put one of my hands in between her legs. I watched as she moved my hand against her, feeling that she was wet under the thin fabric.

“I’ve missed you so much, Nikki.” She let out a breathy moan, “I touched myself to the thought of you a lot while you were gone.”

I bit my lip, tasting blood as I watched her rub her hips against my hand, “Y-yeah?” I choked out, moving uncomfortably underneath her.

“So I know, if I thought about you, you had to think of me.” Her smirk was confident as I rubbed my hands up her sides, feeling the curve of her body under my palms.

I stared at her as I pushed her panties to the side, seeing the smile form across her face as I was giving into what she wanted from me. She’s such a little devil sometimes.

“I have something for you.” She moaned, as I brushed my thumb over her clit repeatedly, “Yeah baby? Show me.” I groaned as she got off my lap.

“Just, lay right here. Don’t move.” She warned as I watched her leave my bedroom. I rubbed my face as I was breathing heavily, noticing that my dick was standing at full attention.

She came back, a smile on her face and her hands behind her back, “What do you got for me?” I asked as she crawled back on top of me.

She ran her nails up and down my chest, as she held her hand open, showing me a syringe: ten cc’s full of heroin.

I shoved her off of me as I got off the bed, “What the fuck are you doing!?” I screamed at her, she laughed as she sat on her knees.

“C’mon nik. It’s not like you’re really gonna stay sober.” She cackled as she shoved the needle into my hand.

“Yes I am! I’m never touching it again! What the fuck is the matter with you!? Get the fuck out!” I yelled at her, forcefully grabbing her hand and dragging her over to my bedroom door.

“Wake up, Nikki. You’re still a junkie. Still a scared little boy!” She shouted, shoving herself away from me, “Shut up! Shut the fuck up!” I yelled back at her.

“Wake up!” She yelled at me, “Fuck you!! I can’t fucking believe you!? How could you fucking do this to me!!”

“Baby! Wake up!” She yelled again, “Why are you fucking saying that!!”

“Nikki! Wake up!!”

I jolted up into a sitting position, as I looked at Vanity who sat next to me, staring at me confused. I quickly got out of the bed, tripping over the blankets as I fell down on the carpet.

“Nikki? Are you okay?” She asked, crawling over to the edge of the bed, “Do-Don’t come near me.” I stuttered as I got myself up, wiping sweat from my face.

“Did you have a nightmare?” She asked quietly as she watched me. I looked at the alarm clock and saw that it was seven in the morning.

“You fucking....you...” I couldn’t get it out of my mouth. That’s like my worse fucking nightmare, her offering it to me.

“I What? What did I do?” She questioned me, a look of confusion written all over. “If it’s about last night I’m sorry....” Vanity said, looking away from me.

“I just...I missed you. And I thought we would have sex when I saw you again, I wasn’t trying to upset you if I did. I know I was pestering you and I’m guessing that’s why you fell asleep not even half way through the movie.”

“We didn’t have sex?” I asked, looking around at the room as I tried to figure it out, “No? You fell asleep. Are you okay?” She said, finally getting out of the bed and walking to me, moving the messy hair out of my face.

“You fucking...you tried giving me heroin.” I told her as she looked taken back, “and you were saying all these fucked up things to me, and then I woke up.”

“Nikki...” she stopped talking as she scrunched up her eyebrows, “I would never do that to you, you know that, right? I would never put your recovery in jeopardy, I love you. I want to see you succeed.”

I nodded, closing my eyes as she put her hand on the side of my face. “I know. I know, it was just a nightmare. “ I shook my head, until I felt her press a gentle, warm kiss on me.

She pulled away as her hands glided up my bare chest, before she rested her head against me. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer to me as I breathed in the scent of her shampoo and the lingering smell of her perfume from last night.

“I love you so god damn much.” I mumbled into her hair as she nodded, hugging my waist tighter.

“I love you more, Sixx.” She whispered, kissing my chest as she peered up at me, “I was wanting to stay a few days if that’s okay, I know you’re busy.”

I shook my head, “No, it’s okay. I want you to stay as long as you want, we just have to spend the day at the studio then I’m free tonight, we can go do something or whatever, so hurry up and get ready. We have to be there at nine.” I shrugged, running my hand through my hair.

“Well I’m gonna shower, you want to join me?” She asked, wiggling her eyebrows as she took my hand but I let go of it.

“I’ll wait till you’re done.” I said as I watched her tilt her head to the side, “What? Now that you’re sober you are celibate?” She questioned as I chuckled, shaking my head, “Don’t start with me.” I warned as she giggled.

“Fine, your choice.” She said before she took off the shirt she was wearing, throwing it at my face before she pranced over to the bathroom, more sway in her hips then usual.

*later that day, Vanity’s POV*

Nikki held my hand as he led me into the studio, seeing Vince in the booth singing something while Tommy and Mick were lounging around, “Nikki, no girls allowed.” Some guy with short brown hair and a beard spoke up as he nodded over to me.

Some guy with short brown hair and a beard spoke up as he nodded over to me.

“Relax man, Van c’mere.” Nikki motioned for me as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder, “Meet Bob Rock, he’s help producing the new album. He’s worked with Metallica, Bon Jovi and some others. Bob, meet Vanity, my girlfriend.”

I looked up at Nikki, “Girlfriend?” I questioned, furrowing my eyebrows, “Sh.” He said before kissing my forehead. This guy Bob stared down at me, “Don’t be a distraction, he’s working.” He warned as he went back to playing with some buttons and beats to a song.

“You didn’t ask me to be your girlfriend.” I whispered to him as he looked over some papers. He looked up at me, grinning as he kissed my lips, “Didn’t think I had too.” He smirked arrogantly as I scoffed, “Okay, fine. You wanna be my girlfriend?” Nikki questioned me, running his thumb across my cheek.

“Hm, I’ll think about it.” I smirked as I watched the scowl form across his face. I chuckled, trying to kiss him but he avoided it by tilting his head up. I quickly gripped his chin to make him look at me, then quickly kissed his hips before I let him work.

“So, how was your date?” Tommy asked, giving me a cheesy smile as he wiggled his eyebrows, “Don’t see any bruises on your neck.” He teased, putting his hand under my jaw and moving my head around until I slapped his hand away from me.

“Stop being a child, to think I missed you.” I rolled my eyes, smiling at him as he laughed.

“Oh please, you probably missed me more than Nikki-“ he joked, “but seriously, how was the date? He wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it all day after you left yesterday.” Tommy expressed as he took a sip out of a bottle of some sparkling water.

“It was nice. We talked about it all and I think we’re finally gonna be okay, T-bone.” I smiled, looking over at Nikki as he was discussing something with Bob.

Tommy nudged my shoulder, “Thank god, you two deserve to be happy finally.” I nodded at his words

“Also, was getting really, really fed up with the fighting. Shits annoying.” Mick spoke up as I looked over at him sitting in a chair and strumming away on his guitar.

“Missed you too, Mick.” I smiled as he nodded, “Beautiful as ever, princess.” Mick spoke soft before continuing to play his guitar at a slow place.

Nikki spun around in the chair, “Come over here for a minute.” He spoke as I stood up and walked over to him, “I have written all these songs over the year I was away. I mean the guys helped but a majority of it was me.” Nikki said handing me a small stack of papers. I went through it, reading some of the lyrics. They were amazing.

I found my way onto Nikki’s lap as I felt him tense up, “Do they have music to them yet?” I questioned, putting them down on as I wrapped my arm around the back of his shoulders.

“Uh…” he cleared his throat, trying to adjust underneath me as he wrapped an arm around my waist, “Some of them do. I wrote some for you actually, or about you or you were inspiration for them.” He rambled on as I started running my nails through his hair

“Is that so? Are you gonna let me hear them or are you gonna make me wait until whenever you publish the album?” I questioned him, eyes locking on his as he looked away from me. He grabbed a glass bottle of sparkling water, taking a sip before he spoke up again.

“I can show them to you now, but you can’t take it too personal and you can’t get upset. They sound amazing.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, “Okay, I won’t. Play them for me.”

Nikki exhaled, before pushing a button. The song started with a woman’s laugh followed by what sounded like a zipper being pulled down.

‘…..A country smile and charm

Out in the back of my ‘58 Chevy

She said she’d do me no harm

You know she makes me feel good

Just like a bad girl should

She goes down

She goes down, down down down….’

As the song went on, I found myself getting frustrated and my smile was slowly fading away. I looked over seeing Tommy and Vince laughing at the song, “And what’s so god damn funny to you?” I asked, glaring at them as they both shut their mouths.

‘…..Always a lady

I love Southern ladies

They just know how to please

It’s like connecting the dots

Start at the bottom, lick it to the top….”

I scrunched up my face, “Nikki…” I warned him as his laughed, kissing the side of my arm.

Nikki wrapped his arms around me tighter when I tried getting off his lap, “Babe, baby it’s just about the sexual acts. No one is gonna know it’s about you. They’ll think it’s just some random girl.”

I glared at him, “Really Nikki? Really? I’m going to know it’s about me-“ I gasped at the next part I heard, “For all of my friends she goes down? Huh, wonder who that could be about?” I side eyed Tommy, before looking back at Nikki “You’re lucky it’s well done.”

Nikki let out a laugh, “Okay that I could have changed but look, it sounds good right? And you know you like it I can see it. I didn’t just do a song about you doing all that okay? There’s another one.”

I looked him over, exhaling, “I am ecstatic can’t you tell?”

He pulled me closer, giving me a soft kiss on the lips, “Shut up and listen.” He pressed more buttons, stopping the track before another one started up

I bounced my foot to the beat of the song, nodding my head as I go into it, “I like this one better.” Nikki smiled at me, as I continued listening to it.

My lips parted as I heard the chorus, I lightly smacked his chest, “Girl, don’t go away mad, Just go away. Nikki what the fuck?” I pouted, as his song were making me feel insecure, “When you said you wrote some songs for me I was picturing something more romantic, not a complete roast on me.” I explained as he let out a laugh, hands squeezing my hips.

“Oh relax, Van. I’ll write something romantic for you one day.” He reassured with a kiss on the cheek.

Tommy shuffled over, nudging Nikki’s shoulder, “You did that one sappy love song, show her that one.” He let out a shrug as Nikki glanced between him and myself.

“Fuck no, no that’s too soft. I can’t believe you assholes even agreed to let it get produced.” Nikki fought back, shaking his head.

“Let me show you Dr. Feelgood. That’s what we’re calling the album.” Nikki tried changing the subject.

“Enjoy kid.” Mick said coming over, tousling my hair as he played with some buttons, “mick please don’t.” Nikki begged, seeming embarrassed.

The song began with a sad sounding electric guitar riff as Vince’s voice seemed more powerful than usual:

“…Without you, there’s no change

My nights and days are grey

If I reached out and touched the rain

It just wouldn’t feel the same…”

I looked at Nikki as he looked into his water bottle, “Stop looking at me.” He mumbled as the song went on, and man, was I becoming a puddle in his lap. I leaned into him, moving my legs so they were draped over the arm of the chair as his hand moved to lay on top of them.

“…I could face a mountain

But I could never climb alone

I could start another day

But how many, just don’t know

You’re the reason the sun shines down

And the nights, they don’t grow cold

Only you that I’ll hold when I’m young

Only you… as we grow old…”

I chewed on my bottom lip, feeling him gently move my legs off of him as he turned off the song, “And that’s enough of that.” Nikki said, his eyes meeting mine. I lowered my head, pressing my lips against his. He smiled into the kiss as Tommy and Vince started hooting and hollering.

Maybe things would finally be okay with Nikki and I now that he was sober. We just need to take things one day at a time and it will be fine. We can do this. I want to do this.

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ladyfogg · 5 years

Text

Cold is the Night - 1/20

Fic Summary: You and Pat have known each other for years but this summer, everything will change. As the two of you start to grow close, your matching tempers threaten the foundation of your rocky friendship and prevent both of you from realizing your true feelings. Cold is the Night Masterpost.

A/N: I was going to wait to post this next week but ended up finishing it early. So, enjoy! Hope you guys like it!

Fic Song: Cold is the Night by The Oh Hellos

Pairing: Pat Murray/Female Reader

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Language, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Multiple Chapters

Gif by @joe-mazzello

It was the hottest day of the summer and Pat Murray thought he might melt. Literally, melt.

The D-Backs weren’t even supposed to be on the field but Ty had insisted they needed the practice. No amount of whining or convincing could change his mind, not even from Maz.

Pat stood just outside the dugout in the bright sun, sweat dripping down his face, his uniform stuck to him unpleasantly.

“Come on, Murray, hurry up and hit something so we can get out of here!”

“Shut the fuck up, Palacco!” Pat snapped. He was the last to practice and had been at the plate for far too many swings. The rage and anxiety had long since taken over, made ten times worse by the heat. He had stepped away for a moment, hoping that would help. But it hadn’t.

He took a deep breath but the air was so thick it did nothing to help. He stepped back up to the plate, took a few practice swings, raised his bat…and missed again.

“That’s okay, that’s okay,” Ty assured him as Pat let out a string of swears. “Try again.”

“Ty, dude, why can’t the rest of us go?” Zapata asked. “We’ll die of heat if we have to wait for Murray.”

“Fuck you, Zapata!”

“Hey! No one’s going anywhere!” Ty snapped. “We start practice together and we end it together. Now shut it!” He gestured to Dells who looked just as exhausted as Pat felt.

Dells sighed and wound up another pitch. Pat’s hands were so sweaty, the bat was sliding against his palms. He gripped it as tight as he could, readied his body for the throw…

“Vinnie, what the fuck? You said you’d be done an hour ago!”

At the sound of your voice, Pat swung wide, missing Dells pitch by a long shot. The bat flew out of his sweaty hands and soared through the air, hurtling straight toward you. “FUCK!”

You saw the bat just in time to jump out of the way. “Shit!”

“Ey, Murray, be careful! You almost hit my baby sister!” Vinnie exclaimed dramatically. He pulled you against his gross chest protectively. “You poor baby! Did the mean ginger hurt you?!”

“Vinnie, g'off!” You struggle against your older brother, punching him in the rib to get him to let go. “I’m not even that much younger than you!“

Pat was furious with himself and unloaded his rage into a colorful array of swears. “Fucking fuck shit balls, fuck! Fucking idiot!”

“Alright, we’re done,” Maz declared, getting off the bench and swinging his bag over his shoulder.

“We’re not leaving yet!” Ty exclaimed.

Maz fixated him with a stern look. “Ty, we’re done,” he repeated. “It’s too hot, Murray is losing his shit, and we’re all going to get heatstroke if we don’t get inside soon.”

Ty could never argue with Maz. With a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumped in defeat as he nodded. “Yeah alright. Garvey, Dells, bring it in. Everyone’s dismissed.”

An eruption of cheers interrupted Pat’s continued tirade. Still fuming, he headed for the shade of the dugout, throwing his helmet against the chain-link fence.

“Aww, don’t worry, little buddy! Someday you’ll hit the ball!” Vinnie cooed.

Pat felt bad enough as it was but to hear Vinnie tease him in front of you made the whole situation unbearable for reasons he couldn’t quite understand.

You elbowed your brother. “Stop being an ass. Come on, let’s go. I’m tired of waiting for you.”

“Ooo, yeah, about that…” Vinnie gave you a sweet smile. “I forgot to text you. I’m going with Ty to meet up with Nellie. Sorrrryyy!”

Pat’s own rage settled as he watched yours build. You rounded on Vinnie, eyes flaring.

“Are you fucking kidding me?! I waited for no goddamn reason?!”

“Aww, don’t be upset!” Vinnie reached out to squish your cheeks, something he knew you absolutely hated. “Now give your big bro a biiiig smile!”

Without warning, you pounced on him, knocking him into the dirt. Vinnie tried to fight you off as the two of you wrestled in the dirt, a common occurrence to everyone who knew you.

Pat gathered his things while the other guys laughed He just wanted to go home and forget about his miserable performance. He slipped away before anyone could notice.

He loved baseball with every fiber of his being and yet he couldn’t hit the ball even if his fucking life depended on it. There was nothing else he’d rather do. He just wished he had half as much talent as some of the other guys.

He didn’t usually drive to the field since his house was so close. But he would have if he had bothered to check the weather before he left. A thought that had suddenly occurred to him as he reached the parking lot.

“Great. Just fucking great."

He was beyond exhausted and now had to walk home. He didn’t want to text his dad to come and get him, seeing as he was a fucking adult. Which left the one option. In theory, he could ask one of the guys but he couldn’t bear the thought of being alone with them, knowing they’d tease him, or worse, try to give him advice.

Pat was just contemplating if he could make it without passing out when a voice sounded behind him.

"Hey, Pat. Need a ride?”

He turned around to find you standing behind him. Your jean shorts and tank top were caked with dirt and sand, both of which were smeared across your face and in your hair.

Pat swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the hammering of his heart. “Nah, I’m fine. I’ll walk.”

“The hell you will! It’s hot as balls!” you said, pushing past him. “Come on, my car is right over here.”

A million protests came to mind, only a few having to do with the heat. He could only imagine the comments from the guys if they saw him and you getting into a car together. Vinnie would definitely have a few words.

But with a cloudless sky and temperatures pushing mid-90s, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse. “You sure?"

"Yeah. Since my shitty brother made me come over here, I might as well give someone a lift."

Pat looked up at the sun and then back to your retreating frame. "Thanks,” he muttered, falling into step with you.

Your car was already running and when Pat climbed in, he was met with a blast of cold air. “Shit that’s nice.”

You laughed as you climbed into the driver’s seat. “Right? Okay. Where to?”

Pat gave you his address and sat back as you pulled out of the parking space. He scanned the direction of the field, praying no one had seen the two of you together. The guys were just cresting the hill, Maz in the lead. They seemed too preoccupied talking to each other to notice him in your car.

As you drove in silence, Pat realized it was the first time the two of you had ever been alone. You had known of each other for a long time, had met on several occasions, but that was the extent of your relationship. He realized he knew very little about you.

Stealing a glance, he studied your profile, eyes taking in the features he had admired from afar. Maybe not admired, but definitely noticed. You focused on the road, singing along with whatever song was on the radio. He didn’t recognize it.

“Tough practice?” you asked.

Pat scowled and remained silent, his anger at himself flaring back up and forcing him to look away.

“That bad huh?” You drummed your hands on the steering wheel as you pulled up to a red light. “I forgive you then. You know, for almost killing me with a bat.”

“Oh shit! I’m sorry!” Pat exclaimed. He had completely forgotten about that and now he felt a thousand times worse. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot!”

“Relax, I was teasing,” you said, stepping on the gas. “It was my fault for standing outside the dugout. I’ve been around you assholes long enough to know shit goes flying.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose. It’s so goddamn hot, the bat slipped.”

“Isn’t that why you’re supposed to wear gloves?”

“I forgot them.”

“Probably don’t do that next time.”

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Tension filled the tiny space between you two as Pat sat stewing in his own anger. Sometimes it felt like he couldn’t do anything right.

“You’re brooding.”

Pat glared at you. “I’m pissed off. I’m allowed to brood.”

“Well don’t, you’ll get wrinkles.”

“Don’t you start with me too. I’ve had a shitty day.”

“Well, let’s talk about it. You’ll feel better if you let it out.”

Pat looked at you in surprise. His angry outbursts were well known to anyone who had seen him play. Most of the time he was told to calm down, not keep going.

“Fucking fuck!” he exclaimed, yanking his hat off and throwing it against the dashboard. “I’m such a fucking loser! God, no matter what I do I can’t ever get a fucking hit! Most of the time I can’t even get close!”

“Hey you got close to hitting me, that’s something!”

Pat glared at you and you gave him the same shit-eating grin your brother was famous for. “It’s not the fucking same. If almost hitting people with bats counted I’d have been drafted years ago.”

You laughed. “In all honesty though, I know you can do it.”

“How? You barely know me.”

“I’ve been to plenty of games over the years, I’ve seen you play more times than I can count. You hit when you’re not psyching yourself up. You just have to stop overthinking it.”

There it was, exactly what he didn’t want to deal with. Unsolicited advice. “Thanks for telling me the same thing I’ve heard over a thousand times before. Really helps.”

“Fuck you, I was just trying to make you feel better.”

“Well, it didn’t work.”

The rest of the drive was done in silence. When you pulled into Pat’s driveway he sighed with relief. All he could do was think about taking a long shower and passing out for a few hours.

“Thanks for the ride,” he muttered, grabbing his bag.

“Yeah, sure.”

As he opened the car door and climbed out, the heat blasted him in the face, making him grimace. The stark change reminded him how lucky he was he didn’t have to walk home.

She really didn’t have to drive me and then I go snapping at her. Well fucking done, Murray.

Pat paused on his way to the front door before he turned around to go apologize. But you had already driven away. Cursing under his breath, he headed into the house.

#pat murray #pat murray x you #pat murray x reader #joe mazzello #undrafted

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titan-wolfdog · 5 years

Text

I spy, I spy with my little eye...

Disclaimer: I do not own FF7, or any of the characters here present. This is just a work for fun and I gain nothing from posting it.

Characters: Yuffie Kisaragi, Vincent Valentine, Tifa Lockhart, Cloud Strife, Cid Highwind, mention of the rest of the gang.

Rating: E for everybody.

The bedroom’s door swung open, a little harsher than she had planned. She looked around and approached the occupied bed.

‘‘Vincent… wake up!’’ She whispered to his ear, already irking the barely asleep raven-haired man.

‘‘The hell you doing here?!’’ Cid’s voice broke through the silence, and Vincent attempted to protect himself from them with the sheets.

‘‘I want Vincent to accompany me to… the Gondola!’’ She tried to come up with an excuse on the spot, and Yuffie could tell by Cid’s expression he couldn’t care less and was just straight up annoyed with her being present in their shared bedroom.

‘‘Yuffie, it’s 8pm, I’m not going to take you to the ride.’’ He rose from the bed and walked to the teenager.

‘‘Oh pleaseeee?’’ She was starting to beg, and her pitch was starting to rise too. Vincent sighed and tried to reason with her, Yuffie was not giving up that easily. Cid knew this could go on for the rest of the night, which he had planned to spend downing a bottle of fine wine, since it was all on Cait Sith’s account.

‘‘For fuck’s sake!’’ Cid was not going to take more of it, he grabbed Yuffie by the ear and dragged her outside. Vincent was about to thank him, before he felt himself be aggressively poked with the tip of Cid’s staff, as he was being pushed outside.

‘‘And don’t come back until she shuts up!’’ He shouted, slamming and locking the door shut. Vincent’s tired red eyes turned to Yuffie, who was clutching to his arm like her life depended on it.

‘‘I actually want to spy on Cloud and Tifa’s date, I spent the last two hours hyping her up and I want it to be perfect-’’ Vincent covered her mouth, sighing in defeat.

‘‘Fine, I’ll help you out, just, don’t talk so loud please, it’s bad enough I got the short end and have to share a room with Cid.’’ He undid her grip, with no purpose really, as she took his hand and dragged him to the entrance of the hotel.

The first stop was the theatre play, Vincent and Yuffie kept their distance from the childhood friends, the teenager giggled as both were dragged backstage. Vincent however, noticed Cloud’s face turn several shades of red, and his head cocked in curiosity.

They sneaked around and to the very back, not sitting down among the crowd in order to not be spotted. They watched them participate in the laughably-good play, Yuffie watching the play, and Vincent eyeing Yuffie when she had to muffle her laugh. Her face changed, and her smile faded quickly.

Vincent lifted his gaze to look at the play, where Cloud was kissing Tifa’s hand with a tenderness that even made him blush. Yuffie’s sigh snapped him out of it, she was caressing her own hand. He didn’t want to interrupt her thoughts or bother her with questions, and silently waited for the play to be over.

They continued to chase the couple around, but it looked more like they were just trying to have fun themselves despite of Yuffie’s initial mission. Tifa and Cloud snatched the last two tickets for the inside of the Gondola ride. The ninja puffed her cheeks and was about to walk away, until Vincent stopped her and lead her up a set of stairs from where they could look at them from afar and enjoy the fireworks, that were ought to start in a few minutes.

‘‘Are you sure we can be here?’’ She pondered, sitting next to him.

‘‘We probably shouldn’t, but after all this hard work, we deserve to see the fireworks, don’t you think?’’ He smiled a little, and she gasped to exaggerate.

‘‘Vinny’s a rule breaker?!’’

‘‘I told you not to call me that-’’ His retort was cut off by the whistle of the first firework, followed by the loud, distant bang. Red and brown eyes squinted for a moment as they tried to adjust to the splash of bright, neon colors that now illuminated the dark sky.

For her, it felt magical. It felt like time stopped as she was transported to the last festival that could be celebrated under Wutai’s region. She was no older than 6, her training was soon to begin, one had to start young if anyone wanted to even hope to achieve the status of ninja. Was it always this beautiful?

For him, it felt good, not excellent or anything, but it was certainly better than dwelling in his own guilt for once. Vincent’s gaze turned to Yuffie, 30 years hidden from the world can really throw you out the loop, and when revisiting Wutai, it certainly felt like all happiness and uniqueness was somehow stripped away from one single place, the void being filled with conformity and quietness.

He opened his cloak for her, and she snuggled against his side, perhaps she tried to hide the fact she had never seen so much joy in one single moment in her short 16 years of life, perhaps she tried to remain bubbly to not be swallowed by the current depression her home country was going through, but it was clear she needed it, even if it was for just a little bit.

She fell asleep not long after, it was a little embarrassing to carry her back to the bedroom she was sharing with Aeris, Nanaki and Cait Sith, or that he had to wrap her up in his cloak because she her entire bodyweight was holding it down; it was even more embarrassing to have to go back to his bedroom without it. He just endured Cid’s annoying comments for a few moments before the old blond passed out on the bed. He was glad he could at least make Yuffie’s night, and he laid his head on the pillow, resting the night away.

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

That was a good night, wasn’t it?, Vincent’s eyes locked on the setting sun, the cold afternoon breeze blowing his hair back. He pulled out his phone and began dialing.

‘‘Hello?’’

‘‘Hey Yuffie.’’

‘‘Vincent!’’ Her voiced squeaked with delight. ‘‘What’s up, Vinny?’’

He smiled, something he wouldn’t admit to her out loud. ‘‘Say, Yuffie, I was thinking of heading out, would you like to come with me to the Gold Saucer?’’

#yuffentine #yuffietine #cloti #yuffie kisaragi #vincent valentine #cloud strife #tifa lockhart #final fantasy 7 #writing #mine

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kingsdominionalumni · 5 years

Text

The Princess and the Rat (part one)

Deadly Class fanfic, fluff, kind of angsty, Reader x Billy Bennett

Warnings: mentions of abuse, prostitution, murder, blood, swearing

You’re new at kings, but not new to the whole killing thing. Your parents sold you to a pimp who used you to kill “customers”. Master Lin found out about you, how young you are. Only fifteen and has a higher body count then most his other students.The only person you trust, the man Master Lin sent to find you, punk, green mohawk wearing Billy Bennett.

(First fic so this is probably going to be bad 😂🤷🏼‍♀️ Also the name probably doesn’t fit the story, but when I thought of it I loved it lol )

Word Count: 2023

Nobody. I know nobody. I have to get through my life day by day. I wish I had a normal life. When I was little I watched all these sitcoms about happy families sitting around the dinner table just talking about their day. The last time my family sat around the dinner table, halfway through dinner a man came into the house. I had no idea who he was. He gave my dad some money then my dad pointed at me. Tears streamed down my ten year old face as I yelled “Daddy! Daddy! Stop them!” my dad just turned away. A coward too weak to even watch what he had just done. The man slapped me in the face. Told me that was not my daddy anymore. Told me that Vinny was my daddy and not to call him Vinny either or I’d get hit like that again. Vinny told me I was special, that because of my age I didn’t have to do the same as the other girls. That he had a job just for me. He handed me my first knife and told me that everytime he needed me to I had to come with him to meetings. Because I was so young the men didn’t think I was going to kill them, Vinny said “Go give your uncle a hug” and when he said that it meant “Go hug that man and shove the knife into the back of his skull”. This went on for five years until now. Last week was my fifteenth birthday and Vinny called me up and told me that I was moving up. I was too old to fool the men and I had to sell myself for him. I didn’t mind doing the killing for him when I was little because at least then the men didn’t touch me, but now I’m done. It’s getting harder to hide. I’ve had seven customers this week and I did what I knew how. I took the money for Vinny, but after that I gave them my “hug of death” as Vinny called it. He doesn’t want me killing these men, I know that, but I can’t have them touching me, I can’t do this anymore. I have one last customer tonight, but after him, I’m out. I'm going for the big fish. Vinny. I will die doing that I know, if not by Vinny then by a goon after I finished him, but it would be worth it to kill that piece of shit. I have one last customer, a man they call Lin. After I’m done with him I go after Vinny.

———————————————————————————

“So, I can’t hangout tonight. Sorry dude, but master Lin has me on some mission to get this new student. She’s got some rep. She’s only fifteen, but has probably killed more than all of us combined.” said Billy to Marcus as they smoke their cigarettes up in the graveyard.

“Doubt it.” Saya said from behind him.

“Holy shit! Dude when did she get here!” This made Marcus laugh. Billy was always over the top, but in a good crazy way. “Well anyway miss perfect, I meant all us rats,” he motioned to Marcus, Petra, Lex, and of course himself “We weren’t born into this shit. Anyway, this chick is posing as a prostitute and taking money from men and instead of doing… you know… she kills them. Lin said that she’s only been doing that shit for a week though. That before she was just killing them. No prostitution. She posed as a sweet young girl instead, but apparently she’s not a sweet young girl anymore…” Billy went on

Marcus interrupted “Well it sounds like she really wasn’t that sweet. She also sounds like someone who could fuck you up, no offense Billy, not saying a fifteen year old girl could fuck you up, but if she’s been doing this her whole life… it sounds like she can fuck you up.”

“Well she was told that Lin was her client and that he was old and shit, so when she opens the door and sees that it’s me instead, I think it’ll throw her off.”

“Wait so you’re getting a prostitute?” Petra asked, seeming all of a sudden interested in the conversation she was trying to ignore

“Oooh, is that jealousy I sense in the air?” Lex piped in

“Fuck off Lex, I’m just saying what if she has STDs or something…”

“Well, I’m trying to get her here so I won’t actually be sleeping with her, and if you actually listened to what I said about her before you would’ve heard the part about how she kills people before they even get the chance to sleep with her, so I’m pretty sure she’s STD free…” Billy realises it’s getting late “hey any of you know what time it is?”

“Six forty five” Marcus said

“Shit I gotta go.”

And with that Billy ran down the stairs, to the closest exit of the school and started down the road to the Coastline Motel

———————————————————————————

You sat on the bed of probably the grossest motel room you’ve ever seen.

“Glad this shit is done after tonight” you thought

There was a knock at the door. You go to the door expecting a old man, but when you open it you see a cute guy who seems around your age… You haven’t had to communicate with someone that young in a long time, you actually got a little bit nervous. This wasn’t who was supposed to be here. You’re honestly not sure if you can even kill this guy.

“Lin?” you say

“Haha okay well about that, umm well can I come in?” The guy asked you

You hesitated. This isn’t who you expected and you nothing about this guy, but for some reason you trust him… You have this feeling that he is someone you should know, and if you’re wrong and he kills you, well whatever. You step to the side opening up the door and letting this boy in. You shut the door after him.You notice him looking around.

“I don’t live here, my da- boss is the one who sets up the rooms.” you blurt

Thoughts rush through your mind “Why did I say that! He doesn’t care. God dammit.” you think

“Hey it’s not that bad right? There’s a bed at least, some people don’t even have one of those” He says

“Well I didn’t think about it that way…. Ummm so since you’re not Lin… who are you?”

“Oh right sorry! I’m Billy, Billy Bennett.”

He reached out his hand for a hand shake. You’re hand feels connected to his before you even reach out, you start to reach for his hand, you pull away a little then finally you shake his hand. Why is this such a big deal to you? People shake hands every fucking day, but there’s something about him…

“Hello?”

You were staring off into some other world. How long have you been staring at his hand? Does he think I’m weird? Y/N what the fuck is wrong with you? You kill people, but this fucking guy is throwing you off! Get in the fucking game!

“Oh right umm sorry right, I’m Y/N”

“Wow that’s a pretty name”

“I mean I guess. It’s just my name… I don’t even know if it has any meaning to it.”

Stupid bitch! Why did you say that! You just made yourself so vulnerable

You continue before he can respond to that

“Well what the hell are you doing here? Why did you use a fake name? Are you here for… you know. Because I’m not going to just sit here and talk. I have other stuff… to do you know…”

“Oh right like murdering people”

“What the fuck did you just say”

You freak the fuck out. You grab him and push him up against the wall your arm on his neck basically strangling him.

How does this man know about that? Is this some kind of joke to him? Is he here for revenge? DId he know someone that I…

“Woah okay okay, I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, calm down okay. I’m here to recruit you for this place where you’ll like fit in and shit, well maybe not fit in with everyone since you’re not a legacy, but since you are pretty badass..”

“What the fuck are you saying?”

“I go to a school that trains people to be assassins and the headmaster dude sent me to get you because he heard about you and thinks you belong at this school.”

“How am I supposed to believe you?”

“Let me go, trust me, you need to actually trust me. I’ll bring you there okay? Okay?”

You start backing off, still not fulling trusting him, but for some reason you feel like he’s telling the truth with no evidence…

He smiles “Good okay, you trust me. Well we can go to Kings and I can show you around and you can meet Master Lin, that’s where the name came from, he set this up, but thought it probably would be better coming from someone my age”

“Well if I’m honest, I haven’t really talked to anyone my age in a few years, nothing for real. Not a really conversation. The men who come in here they are fucked in the head old guys who think they can touch me. I haven’t even had my first kiss, but because of this shit I feel like a piece of shit. I’m nothing. I can’t go with you. This place you talk about sounds great for some people, but I can’t be there, I’ll probably be dead tomorrow and I’m okay with that. Go back to your Master and tell him that I’m not interested.”

You turn away from him. Not sure if you can trust this guy, once you have your back turned he could try and kill you, but after this it doesn’t matter. Everything is done tomorrow with Vinny. You need to kill him. You walk over to the bed and sit down. For some reason Billy follows suit and sits next to you. You look forward, staring at the wall not in the moment, but you can feel the man next to you looking at you. Why does he care this much? You turn to where you’re facing him. He has these beautiful blue eyes, they’re almost grey, but you can just tell that the shade of blue depends on his feelings. People with eyes that changed color like that always intrigued you. Do they know their eyes do that or is it just something that happens for the amusement of the outside world? Does he realize that his eyes look like that? Subconsciously you put your hand on his cheek. This makes him smile. Once you snap back into reality you pull away.

“I have unfinished business. I can’t go to your school until I finish that.” You finally say

“Well maybe we can help. What’s the business?”

“I need to kill someone, but if I kill him his people will probably kill me…”

“Is he a like the leader of a gang or something? Why does he have people?”

“Well he is a pimp. Pimp’s tend to have followers. His name is Vinny. My dad sold me to him when I was ten. He is the reason I’m in this situation. He is why your master is even interested in me. I need him to be dead. I don’t want anymore girls like me. He needs to be gone.”

“I didn’t know.. I’m sorry.”

“Why would you know? I literally just met you. I don’t even know why I’m saying all this shit to you…”

“Well I’ll help you. I totally understand shit dads. I had to kill mine because I wanted to protect my mom and little brother. Pieces of shit need to be killed. If my dad wasn’t a piece of shit I wouldn’t be at Kings either. I understand, so I’ll help you.”

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Thanks for reading even if it was shitty lol. Part two will probably be out tomorrow as long as I have time to type it. I have school vacation until wednesday so I’ll write the whole time… also I’m going to keep posting parts even if people don’t really like it because I like it 😊

#deadly class #billy bennett #deadly class fanfiction #reader x billy bennett

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halyconskies-blog · 5 years

Text

kodak moments

riding my bike to the gas station on the end of my street, i'm on a mission. gigantic beautiful trees provide shade the whole way there. what's my mission? buy batteries for my dinky little point and shoot kodak. my favorite musing is my dog, the outside world, and my pubescent body in my underwear. i see an even smaller girl riding her big wheel... seemingly following me. there’s tinsel coming off her handles. the almost white, pinks and blues twinkling as they flutter in the breeze. the wind kisses my skin and it's sparkling too.

my mother is feeling shiny and sparkly too. she just had one of those surgeries where they shrink your stomach so you can’t choose to be horrendously fat anymore. now she's just a deflated balloon. unfortunately for her, the hanging fat around her back started pulling on a dislocated plate in her spine. for which she's been taking prescription medication (although she doesn’t always receive it from the pharmacy). despite the awful pain, she felt hot for the first time in 20 years. ever since then she has been cheating on my dad...

it’s 2007. people are making phone calls to those television ads for hot hookups in ur area! or at least my mother did. she begins speaking to a man named franky luzar... truly a loser. he is tall, dark, and “handsome”. he sticks a heart shaped sticker on his ass when he goes tanning-- so it’ll leave a mark, of course. long blades of black grass grow from his head with salt at the roots, all kept tightly in a pony's tail. his face is a pleather hand bag, eyes are blue and sharp. his thin body is lavishly draped in tattered dusty jeans, those tan work boots with the steel in the toes, and a white wife beater... a favorite of his.

i’m not sure what he does, or where he goes when he’s not here... but he’s over a lot. he has an obsession with sick horror movies— always excited to show us the latest and greatest. i watched a man get pulled in half in gruesome because franky said so.

i rush inside the house, to switch out my old batteries. i take a picture of my dog cuddling my stuffed bulbasuar on the couch. my mother’s feet are in the shot. she’s been sleeping there since yesterday afternoon— it’s 5 pm. i hear the door open and hit the wall. a couple shoes are tumbling down the stairs. franky is always happy to add some flare to his entrances. his voice is rusty and low. what do you think he’s got in his hands? if you guessed, a white plastic bag filled with movies, beer, and a small weird maraca of sorts, you'd be correct. my mother is finally awake, or so it would seem. her cigarette ashes itself into her lap.

my living room set is dusty white with bright green flowers embroidered in a line going downwards. i can’t remember why the love seat is in the middle of the living room, but it is. i’m sitting on the ground right next to the tv. my mother and franky are planted on the crooked couch. a man is making cookies out of some people he just killed brightly displayed in liquid-crystals. i glance over into the darkness. the light hits their faces and a small, fraying pillow. i notice the pillow is moving slightly, up and down. my eyes flash to franky. his face is serene and intense... my head jolts back to the tv. i’ll just pretend it’s not happening.

i like to spend as much time at my dad’s as i can. his girlfriend and her daughter are fine enough. heather is her daughter’s name. she likes to throw up in milk jugs in her closet because she eats too much. her mom puts locks on the cabinets so she doesn't go back for round two. heather's a little older than me but she tells people she’s 15. she likes to take me to her boyfriend’s house, his name is damian. a couple hours later we go to her other boyfriend’s house, his name is eddie. this time her nice boyfriend is mad, because he suspects her to be cheating on him. she brings of a bottle of parrot bay to say sorry. he doesn't care, they go into his bedroom to fight about it for a while. i sit on a cold couch in the living room with his brother. there's nothing to do but stare. i quietly go peek in the bedroom to see if they've made up. i see her jumping on top of him so maybe it's not over? his brother, vinny, says i can just sleep on the couch if i don't want to walk home by myself. so i just lay there, in dark silence, my eyes are open all night staring at the hint of pale yellow light out the window, but i am asleep.

its weird i know, but my dad and his girlfriend found a duplex right across the street from my grandmother’s. there wasn’t enough room for all of us there, so my brothers stay across the street a lot. they don’t like it though, our grandma drinks all day and gets mad at them for stealing the remote, the phone, the tv guide, her commemorative elvis dinning plates... i'm standing on the wooden stairs of her house, coming down, peeking through the fake palm trees to see if the coast is clear. she is throwing up into a bowl she keeps planted on the coffee table. her head flies up to come up for air and there's a piece of residual rice on her lips. her tongue flicks it back into her mouth. i hold my mouth to keep in my gagging air.

this morning i was actually at my mother’s. on my way to school, rounding the corner to go out the front door. my eyes flash to frankie’s ass-heart thrusting into my mother’s face on the couch— it’s 7:45 am. i take a picture. i tell my best friend rachael about it at the bus stop. she thinks it’s funny and weird. i can't think at all. the next couple months i'm going to just stay at my dads, i'll have better luck there.

i do however have to go back once to retrieve some of my things i left behind after a week or so.

“sammy ran away!” my mother told me. her voice is like an untuned instrument.

“he didn’t come back?”, i ask— because he runs away a lot. he always comes back

though, even if by the means of our neighbors dragging him home, knocking on our door, and hating us.

“he’s been gone for.... two weeks” my mother said.

i don’t have any way to mass produce a flyer with pictures of him so i begin to individually draw out a picture of him and the words LOST DOG on about 30 pieces of paper. i put a couple of

them in sheet protectors because i’m afraid the rain will ruin them, or my tears. i ride my bike to the ends of all the streets nearby. i nail them to the posts. my tears make it hard to see sometimes, but i get through it. this is my misson.

it's been so long now that i wonder if he's just gone for good. i start to think about him less and less. i am hoping that he was able to find a new home, or at least a couple friends along the way.

i know it's not true, but the bright side is comforting.

it’s october in 2009. my best friend somier and i are having my mother drive us to go see

a movie. i'm testing the waters with her being around me— i'm still a little bitter, but she’s trying to buy back my love. so i allow the chance.

we’re at a stop light. the red light from the brakes in front of us trace the outline of her crazy curly hair. little pieces of it are blowing in the breeze, the windows are down. the air is very brisk— i like it though. she’s talking about something, but i can’t hear.

“i still can’t believe he did that to me— to sammy!” my mother blurted.

“....what are you talking about? i mean i figured it was him who let him out?” i replied. him being franky...

“oh shit— i forgot!” she let out loud laughter. “i guess i just didn’t want to make you

cry... but you know franky killed sammy, right? he smothered him to death right in front of me.”

i'm in shock. “......why didn’t you do anything??” i get out.

“oh... well that’s because he tied me up. he covered sammy's mouth and closed his nose”

i look at somier. her face is blank. i’m sure mine is too...

we’re at burger king. my mother calls the garbage cans "trash receptacles". we think it’s a funny "old person" thing to say. we all laugh pretty hard.

#writers on tumblr #childhood trauma #past life #personal #essay

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multi-fxndom446 · 5 years

Text

My Happiness (Undrafted Dells)

Tyler Hoechlin!Jonathan Dellamonica x reader

Warnings: cursing

“What’s going on over there?”

You and a couple of your friends had been hanging out for a few hours just walking around and having fun when you came across a baseball field.

There was a team on the field and it only looked like they were practicing for a game but still it intrigued you.

“Just dumb baseball stuff lets go” one of your friends said grabbing your hand to drag you away but stopped when you didn’t move.

“Let’s go watch” you said looking at them and rolling your eyes when they just scoffed at the idea “Come on we have nothing to do, plus those guys are pretty hot”

“To you! Besides y/n they aren’t even playing against anyone they’re just practicing” your other friend said before she looked at you waiting for you to give up and leave but sighed when you shook your head

“You guys go ahead. I’m gonna go watch” you didn’t even wait for a response just started walking over to a set of bleachers that you hoped would be close enough to see yet far enough to where they couldn’t tell a random person was just watching them practice.

You watched with a smile as the guys yelled and cussed at each other while throwing a baseball back and forth before they moved to practice on there usual position and your eyes followed the pitcher as he threw a few to get ready to throw some serious tosses.

“Hey!” You looked over at the voice and saw a few of the players looking at you before they started walking over to the fence close to where you sat. “You know there’s no game today?”

“Yeah I know, just wanted to watch” you shrugged and they smiled before they introduced themselves.

“I’m Vinnie this is Mike” Vinnie introduced and you got up from your seat to shake there hands.

“I’m y/n” you smiled and before you could say anything else someone had called out to the two of them.

“What are you guys doing let’s go! This is a practice not social gathering!” The guys yelled from across the field making everyone on the team look towards the three of you.

“That’s Ty, our coach so we should probably get outta here” Mike said and Vinnie nodded in agreement.

“It was nice meeting you, hopefully we see you around more often” Vinnie called over his shoulder and you laughed as your eyes scanned the guys again before your eyes drew to the pitcher again but this time he was also looking at you.

You smiled at him as your cheeks turned a slight shade of pink and you turned back to walk to the bleachers again, where you sat and watched the rest of the practice.

It had been like that for a few months, you just coming to watch them practice sometimes you’d catch them when they were actually playing a game.

You had learned everyone’s name by now and had gotten pretty close to them. They all just expected to see you everyday when they practiced so when one day you weren’t there Dells wanted to know why.

“Dells I don’t keep tabs on her why would I know where she is?” Vinnie asked looking to his friend who shrugged

“Because she became closer to you then any of us” Dells said trying to hide the slight edge to his tone but Vinnie caught on and started smirking.

“Aw does our little pitcher have a crush on little Y/N? Adorable really but I actually don’t know. Although she seemed kind of sick the other day so” Vinnie tried and Dells sighed but nodded and walked away.

That’s the day Dells started accepting his feelings for you. He had always been nervous to talk to you so you guys weren’t that close but he always threw his best pitches when you were there. Which is why everyone started calling you Dells’ lucky charm. They noticed how he pitched worse when you weren’t around and eventually the whole team caught on to his crush.

When you finally came back to practices again everyone was relieved because they could finally get a good practice in.

“Yo y/n you don’t have a choice now. You have to show up to every practice and game” Zapata told you one day when the practice was over.

“What do you mean?” You asked and he only chuckled at you.

“I mean you’re our pitchers lucky charm. He’s at his best when you’re around” Zap explained and your face went red as you looked over to said pitcher who was talking to Garvey, their catcher. “So you’re gonna come to the big game right? Our last game if we lose. It’s in two days we have another practice tomorrow too.”

“Yeah of course I’ll come to the game. And the practice” you laughed before you grabbed the mini cooler you had brought and walked around the fence, tossing Zapata one before making your way into the dug out.

“You guys looked good out there” You commented as you passed out the water, a few of them mumbling out a thanks.

“I always look good” Baron said making you roll your eyes at him before you turned to give Dells a water bottle. He smiled at you before grabbing the bottle and he went to say something to you when he stopped making you sigh before you turned around.

“Well I should head out, I’ll see you guys tomorrow” all the guys knew that you didn’t have a car so you walked everywhere unless you got a ride, today was no exception.

Dells wanted to offer you a ride and everyone could see it on his face that he was trying to make himself ask you but he just couldn’t. Ty shook his head at his brother before he stopped you.

“I can give you a ride, I’m taking Vinnie home anyway” he said and you smiled up at him gratefully before you started to follow after him.

When the three were gone everyone looked towards Dells with disapproving looks

“What?” He finally snapped

“Dude you’ve got it bad. You know she liked you too right?” Palacco said and Dells shook his head, disbelieving. “Alright well don’t be to disappointed when you lose your chance with her”

The next day you had arrived to the field a little earlier then intended and the only other person there was Dells.

“Hey Dells” you called and his head snapped up at your voice before he gave you a smile and watched you walk to your usual seat.

He sighed, annoyed with himself that he couldn’t talk to you like a normal person. He looked around at the empty field before he grabbed his glove and baseball and walked over to you.

“You wanna throw a bit? I don’t know when everyone else will get here” what he said threw you off you weren’t expecting him to talk but you smiled and nodded nevertheless and walked up to him.

“You know how to pitch?” He asked and you shook your head.

“I never was a pitcher I always played (any position besides pitcher)” you told him and he nodded while he tossed you the ball and stood right behind you.

“Alright show me your best throw” he said and you looked at him nervously and he gave you a reassuring smile. You turned back and gave your best throw, the ball hitting the fence “not bad not bad”

The next twenty minutes went by like that, with Dells teaching you his pitches and even though he wouldn’t admit it he was trying his best to show off since you were so close to him, watching his every move. The two of you joked around and had laughs not noticing the other boys standing on the outskirts of the field right where the trees cut off and the field began

“Good thing we were late huh?” Fotch said looking over to Ty who was smiling at the scene in front of him. He hadn’t seen his brother smile like that in a long time it was like you were his happiness.

The team watched from the sidelines, telling each new arrival to be quiet so they could watch on and then Garvey came. He came running down the hill calling out to his team

“Shh Garvey!” Ty said but it didn’t stop him as Garvey got up to them but kept walking, looking back at them confused.

“What’re you guys doing come on!” He yelled causing you and Dells to take a step away from each other.

“Hey lucky charm, we’re gonna start practicing” Garvey called to you and both yours and Dells faces flushed at the name.

“I’ll go sit down then” you said smiling at Dells before walking to your seat. As you watched them practice you noticed the smile that never left Dells face.

The next day you showed up to the game early so you could get a good spot near the fence to watch the boys. You knew it was a rough day for them because the draft had just ended and Maz, another good friend of yours, didn’t make the draft.

You looked over to see Vinnie struggling with two trays of ice cream. You also knew this was a tradition of there’s before every game. When he was about to drop a tray you quickly swooped in a grabbed hold of it.

“Thank you, that would’ve been a waste of money” Vinnie joked and you laughed while you walked behind him to the dug out.

“Ice cream ice cream get it while it’s hot” Vinnie called as the boys crowded around you and him.

You passed the other tray to Ty and smiled at the boys. “Good luck guys, I’ll be the one cheering the loudest”

“Y/n wait!” You hadn’t even gotten on the other side of the fence when Dells caught up to you. “Ah I just wanted to say thanks for coming”

You smiled up at him before leaning up and kissing him on the cheek. “Good luck”

Dells walked back to the dugout with a huge smile on his face as he put his focus on one hundred percent.

Throughout the game it started to get worriesome. You knew the boys were struggling with Maz not getting drafted but you didn’t think it would be as bad as it was. Pat had been losing his mind every time he struck out and the other team was throwing insult after insult especially at Dells.

“Don’t listen to them Dells you got this!” You shouted to him at one point and he tried his best to ignore them.

Ty started throwing dirt at Baron in the middle of the game. Then Pat struck out again and completely lost it. He broke his bat against a fence then threw a ball into a board and then tried to kill Zapata which erupted into a big fight between the team. Then Dells got tired and you could see it. You tried your best to cheer him on as did everyone else but it ended with the bulldogs getting 2 points but on the last player he tackled Garvey to the ground causing a huge fight to erupt.

“Garv!” You yelled quickly running onto the field to pull the catcher away from the fight “Maz help me!”

Maz came over and helped you drag Garvey away from the chaos as you both started taking off his padding.

“It’s okay just breath” Maz said as Garvey shook.

Next thing you knew Garvey was being taken to a hospital and Ty and Vinnie were being arrested, setting something off in Dells as he went into a completely different mood, this one being trying to beat the Bulldogs at any cost, which seemed to be working.

The huge crowd around you cheered him on as he got player after player out before they switched and it was the D-backs turn to bat. He looked around at the crowd on trying to look for you to calm himself down and when his eyes landed on you his whole demeanor changed and he took a deep breath. You gave him a nod as if asking if he was okay and he nodded back at you.

The rest of the game went by after that Zap was first and got out then Fotch who walked then Murray who finally got a hit and made it to first base

“Yes! Yes Murray!” You screamed, cheering with him as he screamed at Palacco to murder the other team.

Palacco made it too then David went up and struck out then the last to go was Maz after a few pitches he finally hit a home run and Fotch, Murray and Palacco all ran to home base giving them the points to win.

“YES!” You screamed in joy as you shoved your way through people to get to the opening of the gate smiling as the team embraced in a group huge group hug. “YOU GUYS DID IT!”

All of them started grabbing you into hugs as well as you all cheered with big smiles on your faces. You eventually stepped out of the overwhelming circle and watched with a loving smile.

Dells eventually pulled from the group to look for you and when he saw you on the side he smiled and before he could lose his confidence he walked over to you. You went to tell him how proud you were of him but you were cut off by him swiftly throwing off his hat and grabbing your face in his hand before his lips came crashing down onto yours.

You felt your entire body buzz in happiness as you kissed back and held onto his waist to steady you from falling over.

“Well if that’s what happens every time you win you guys should win more often” you whispered when you pulled away.

“Well I’m hoping to do that more then just the few times we win” Dells said and you smiled brightly.

“I’d love that” you said before the boys erupted into more cheering and wolf whistles. You both laughed and looked over to them as the all gave you thumbs up.

“I think there happy” you said looking up at him and he smiled

“I’m happier. You’re my happiness” he said quietly before he pulled you into another breathtaking kiss

A kiss you would be getting a lot from him

#undrafted #tyler hoechlin #joe mazzello #dells x reader

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quickeningheart · 5 years

Text

Twenty

The garage doors were shut, which meant either the gang was still out investigating, or it was later than Alley had thought and the Last Chance was closed for the night. She hoped for the former as she typed the security code into the panel on the wall, allowing the door to raise halfway before slipping under it.

No such luck. They were all back. She wasn’t particularly shocked to find people still inside the garage; she was surprised to find that Chris and Chex were among them. She hadn’t noticed either of their cars parked on the street.

“So, you totally blew off lunch,” Chex scolded as she bounced forward. “I was mad until I got your text. Man, that blows. I can’t believe—Holy hell what happened to you? You get into a fight or somethin’?” She stopped talking long enough to give the frazzled blonde a lengthy once-over.

Embarrassed, Alley glanced down at herself, noting the state of her clothes, wrinkled and liberally stained with grass and dirt. She was sure her hair was a tangled mess, their braids long undone. She couldn't even guess where the elastic bands had gotten to; she strongly suspected they were still back at the lake. “Oh. Uh…” She felt herself blushing under the scrutiny. “M-My pet rat just died.” She held up the empty box. “Throttle took me out to bury her.”

“What, did he try ‘n bury you along with her?” Chex jumped when Chris elbowed her sharply in the side.

“Ignore the birth defect. She suffers from chronic Foot-in-Mouth Syndrome. I’m sorry about your pet, Alley.”

“Uh, yeah. Me too. That bites.” Chex offered a sheepish grin. “Rats are cool.”

“It’s okay. I feel a little better now. I was afraid I'd just have to dump her body, but Throttle helped me bury her under a tree. It was kind've therapeutic. He carved her name into the trunk. Even said a little blessing over her grave and everything. It was really sweet.”

Charley and the mice exchanged glances, eyebrows raised all around. “Yeah,” Vinnie sniggered. “Real sweet of ‘im.”

Now it was Charley’s turn to make use of her elbow. “You gonna be okay?” she asked her cousin, concerned. “That’s a lot of bad news for one—”

“Holy shit, girl, is that a hickey?” Ignoring her brother’s exasperated sigh, Chex grabbed Alley’s sweater and peeled it back. “It is! There’s like a whole flock of ‘em!” She looked inexplicably delighted by the discovery, eyes sparkling with devilish humor. “Sooo … after burying your pet, I guess he decided to help distract you from your grief with a little wrestling and—”

She was once again cut off by a swat from her brother. “Don’t be disgusting, Chex,” he snapped. “She’s a human! He’s a giant rodent! There’s no way they could—”

“Says you,” Vinnie cut in with a derisive snort, stepping forward to sling a possessive arm around Charley’s shoulders. “From where I’m standin’, we can just fine, thanks.” Two jaws dropped, and Charley looked like she wanted to crawl into the floor.

“You mean … the two of you are—” Chris choked out.

“She’s my girl,” Vinnie confirmed proudly. “An’ I’m her mouse!”

Charley just sighed and shrugged in a what-can-ya-do gesture.

Chex’s shock slowly faded as a delighted grin reappeared. “Gettin’ frisky with the furries!” She nodded approvingly. “Dude, that’s hot.”

Charley and Chris both choked. Vinnie preened. Modo looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. Alley kind've understood how he felt. She groaned and wiped a hand over her face. “Chex, really?”

“What?” Her expression was all innocence.

“I’m goin’ to bed.” Alley stalked to the garbage bin to dump the empty box into it.

“Aw, come on, it was just gettin’ good!” Laughing, Chex moved to keep her from leaving. “What happened between you two while you were out burying things? And how come he’s not here?”

Alley was wondering that, herself. Damned mouse, throwing her to the wolves like this… “Nothing happened,” she growled.

“Your appearance would suggest otherwise,” Chex teased. “Come on, tell!”

Alley shot a pleading glance at her cousin, who merely raised an eyebrow in return as a small grin twitched around her mouth. Clearly, she would be getting no help from that quarter. Huffing, she turned to stomp up the stairs, only to run headlong into a furry body directly in her path. Startled, she looked up to find Stoker standing over her, shirtless, with a towel draped around his neck. His fur was damp, clearly just from a shower. “Yes,” he deadpanned, expression droll. “Do tell us what happened while you were out tonight.” He stepped back to look her over, face darkening as he took in the smattering of love bites visible under the open sweater. He reached out to yank its hood until it slipped down around her elbows, revealing the bruises peppering her throat and collarbone and even further, vanishing under her clothes. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he took in the suspicious hole in her shirt, dotted with traces of blood. She could feel the hot flush spreading over her skin, wanting nothing more than to crawl into a crack and hide.

“Did he attack you?” Stoker finally asked, voice deceptively soft.

She gaped at him. “Do you even hear yourself?”

“Yeah! She was obviously a willing participant,” Chex put in with a snicker. Stoker shot her an annoyed glance; she held up her hands in surrender and backed off, still smirking.

“Nothing happened,” Alley growled, stamping her foot.

“I can smell him all over you. Those bruises don’t look like ‘nothing’.”

Blush darkening, she yanked her sweater closed and glared. “It’s none of your business, either way!”

Chris shifted uncomfortably. “It’s getting late,” he muttered. “We gotta get back to the dorms or we’ll miss curfew.”

“But we just got here! You were soooo insistent on coming out and making sure Alley was okay. What happened to helping her in her time of need?” Chex asked, pouting.

He sneered. “Looks like someone already beat me to it."

Alley straightened, shooting him a wounded look. “That’s not fair!”

“Oh, don’t mind him.” Chex smirked. “He’s just pissy ‘cause his crush totally got laid.”

Chris’s face slowly turned a deep shade of crimson. “Blow it out your ass, Connie,” he snarled over Alley’s denials. “I’m going back to the dorm. You comin’ or you gonna walk?” He turned to stomp off.

“Wait! Chris…” Alley called after him. He ignored her.

“Ooooo, touchy. No worries, I can catch a ride!” Chex shot Modo a hopeful glance, who in turn frowned at her, the very picture of fatherly disapproval. She heaved a sigh, rolling her eyes. “Okay, fine. Should’ve drove myself. Hold up, Spaz, I’m comin’!” Mouthing a quick “call me” to Alley, she turned to trot after her twin.

Leaving Alley to face the wolves by herself. She gulped.

There was a long, awkward silence, during which Alley fidgeted nervously and considered making a mad dash for her bedroom. Of course, Stoker effectively blocked her route up the stairs, but there was always the fire escape...

"So," Charley began, effectively breaking the silence. "Can I take this to mean that you've become more open to inter-species relationships?"

Alley pursed her lips, nonchalantly picking caked dirt from under her fingernails. “I’m no longer … completely opposed to the idea,” she mumbled.

"How generous of Throttle, steppin’ up to help you overcome your aversion to our species," Stoker snorted, looking anything but happy. "Way to take one for the team."

Jaws dropped all around. Modo and Vinnie exchanged alarmed glances as Charley sighed heavily and wiped a hand over her face, shaking her head.

Alley calmly stepped up, hauled back, and delivered a clean uppercut directly to Stoker’s jaw.

His head snapped back as a startled grunt escaped. The force of the hit caused him to stagger back a step or two, where he promptly tripped over the bottom step and stumbled backwards, landing right on his tail, sprawled over the stairs. He gaped up at the blonde, who stood over him with an evil glare, shaking the pain out of her hand. “You’re an ass,” she hissed, stepping over him and marching up the stairs. A few moments later a door slammed.

He gingerly worked his jaw, rubbing the abused skin; he could feel the welt already swelling under his fur. Charley knelt beside him, her expression a mix of sympathy and amusement. “You okay?” she asked, shooting a scolding glance at Vinnie and Modo, who were trying (and failing miserably) to hide their snickers.

He let his head rest against the step. "Been better," he sighed

She grinned. “She clocked you a good one, huh? Need some ice?”

He huffed, insulted. “What do you take me for?”

She patted his shoulder. “I hate to say I told you so—"

"No, you don't," he snorted. "An' I know. I had it comin'."

She hummed in agreement. “I think you’ve probably got a bit groveling to do.”

He chuckled. “Stuck my foot in it, huh?”

“Sure,” she teased. “Your foot, your knee, your upper thigh…”

“Okay, okay. Smartass.” A grin twitched his mouth and he tossed his damp towel over her head. "Think she'll forgive me if I buy her another rat?"

"I dunno, Coach. Rate you're goin', you better make it a pony," Modo quipped, earning more snickers from Vinnie.

"I think she'll forgive you if you offer a heartfelt apology." Charley tugged on a lock of his hair.

"I was afraid you'd say that."

"You do know what one of those is, right?"

"Sure! It’s that thing where you tell your lady that you were wrong about everything in your entire life, an’ pray she won’t make you sleep on the couch for the rest of it.”

“Oh, stop it.” Charley laughed and delivered a playful smack to his shoulder.

He smirked and hauled himself to his feet, wincing when his back popped with the effort. He was gettin’ too damned old. His sleek black racer rolled over to him, and he hopped on with a grateful pat to the crankshaft.

“Where ya goin’?” Vinnie asked. “Ya ain’t runnin’ away, are ya?”

“Better let her calm down a bit. Word of advice, punk. It’s a lot easier to apologize when yer not too busy dodgin’ the blunt objects bein’ hurled at your head.” Stoker pulled on his wing-eared helmet. “‘Sides, I’ve got a few phone calls to make.”

“You realize there’s a perfectly good phone right over there,” Charley offered, bemused.

“Ain’t the right kinda phone, honey.” He gave her a wink before revving his engine and shooting out of the garage, barely missing the half-open door on the way.

~*~*~*~*~

After convincing the guys to go to the scoreboard for the night, Charley found herself standing outside of Alley’s bedroom. She took a fortifying breath, knocked lightly, opened the door a crack to peer into the room.

Alley looked up from her spot on the floor, where she was busily cleaning out the empty cage. “I’m not gonna apologize for hitting him,” she warned.

“I don’t expect you to.” Charley wandered into the room and made herself comfortable on the bed. “He deserved a punch.” She smiled at Alley's surprise; clearly, she’d been expecting a scolding. “Don’t hold it against him, though, huh?” she added. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on anybody.”

The blonde snorted and turned back to the cage. “Where is everyone?” she asked after a moment.

“Dunno where Stoker got off to, but I sent the other two home. I suspect they might’ve gone looking for Throttle.”

“They’re not gonna yell at him, are they?”

“Of course not.” Charley shrugged. “Not like he did anything wrong. Right?” She watched her cousin for a few moments, before nudging her leg with a booted foot. “So. You and Throttle, huh? How long has this been going on?”

“It hasn’t,” Alley muttered, dumping a tray of used wood shavings into a garbage bag.

“He’s been spending an awful lot of time with you, hasn’t he? Not that it’s a bad thing. I’m glad to see you’re both getting on so well, actually. But…”

Alley sat back with a sigh, running a hand through her hair. “It’s not like I went out there planning to seduce him or anything,” she mumbled. “We were just talking and then … and then he was kissing me and…” She flushed, glancing away. “I didn’t … hate it.”

“So, he’s a good kisser, huh?” Charley’s eyes sparkled.

The blonde shifted, blushing. “Well, honestly, it was kind’ve awkward,” she confessed. “I mean, he doesn’t even have lips! We didn’t quite … mesh.”

“Soooo … he’s a bad kisser?” The mechanic’s lips twitched.

“I didn’t say that.” Alley rolled her eyes, smirking. “Once we figured out what went where, it was actually quite—” She stopped, clearing her throat as her cousin laughed. “But then I had to go and bring up Carbine.” She sighed heavily, dropping the litter scoop and sitting back against the bed, drawing her knees up to her chest. “After that he got real quiet. Then we came back here. He dropped me off, and took off on his own. Said he had to clear his head.”

“Hmmm. Probably feels guilty. At least you stopped when you did. It’d be worse if you’d kept going.”

“I know.” She leaned against Charley’s leg. “But part of me wishes I’d never mentioned her name. Now things are gonna be all awkward between us and I don’t want that. I really like him, you know? I want to get to know him better.”

“Well, the fact that he made a move suggests definite interest. What kind and how much is another issue.” Charley sighed. “Carbine is the problem. Those two have been together for a long time, but I know their relationship has been pretty rocky at times. They hardly see each other as it is, and now that she's been made general, I don't imagine it will get any easier. What with her being on an entirely different planet and all…” She shifted. “Fact is, he might just be lonely, you know? And if you've developed any feelings for him, he might be picking up on that.”

“Oh, that makes me feel much better,” Alley grumbled.

Charley grimaced. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—I'm just trying—” She huffed and ran a hand through her hair. “I'm not very good at this love advice thing, am I?”

Her cousin offered a faint smile. “No, I understand. What you said makes sense, I guess. But what am I supposed to do now? Pretend like it never happened? I don't want to be just a convenient placeholder until he can go back to his real girlfriend."

Charley tipped her head back. "Well, I imagine you and Throttle will have to figure that out for yourselves,” she replied. “Either way, I suggest having a conversation. Soon."

“Yeah.”

The two women sat for a few moments, lost in their own musings. Alley finally shifted, breaking the silence. “So, Throttle said you’d gone to the college to try and break into the computers.” She raised an eyebrow. “How’d that work for ya? Did you have to flee a zillion security guards?”

Charley wrinkled her nose. “Please. Do I look like an idiot? I sent in backup.” She reached into her shirt pocket, withdrew an object and held it out.

“What is that?”

On closer inspection, “that” turned out to be a small mess of metal components, smashed microchips and hair-thin copper wires.

"It used to be an electronic beetle," Charley explained. "But it sort've met with a little ... accident." She sounded perturbed.

“You mean it’s like a robot or something?”

“Mmmm. Something like that. It’s essentially a spy cam. It’s purpose is to plug into a computer and wirelessly download information to another hard drive. In this case, my laptop. That’s what I was trying to do last night. As you can see, it didn’t work out so well.”

“What happened?”

“The secretary spotted it. Thought it was an actual insect. She brought a book right down on it. Feedback damn near blew out my eardrum, lemme tell you.” Charley huffed a laugh. “And that was the end of that. It was a good test run, at any rate.”

“Where did you even pick up something like this? Spies R Us?”

“Oh, it’s just something I cobbled together in my spare time.” She gave a casual shrug as her cousin gaped at her.

“Cobbled toge—Charley.” Alley pinched the bridge of her nose. “You cobble together a backyard tree fort, or a quick fix for a broken table leg. You do not ‘cobble’ a technologically advanced … robotic … spy beetle!”

“Sure I do!” The redhead grinned. “It’s just a prototype, like I said. I built it using spare parts. I needed to test it, and this was a good chance. Now I know its limitations. I’ll take them into account when I build an upgraded version.”

“What sort of limitations?” Alley asked, curious.

“For one thing, its signal range is too small. It only extends about twenty meters or so. I had to sit in a tree last night to get close enough to the third floor to maneuver the bug through my laptop. The commands weren’t getting through very well, though. It couldn’t read the order to disappear when the secretary showed up, which is how it got smashed. Good thing she didn’t look too closely and realize she’d just killed a robot. Adding working wings next time might be useful. It does climb walls pretty well, though.”

Alley shook her head, impressed. “I dunno, Cuz. I think you totally missed your calling. Why are you fixing cars for a living, barely scraping by? You’re like a real-life James Bomb with all this spy crap! You should be making billions selling it to the government!”

Charley hummed. “You know, I used to design bikes and stuff for small companies and private investors. Even had Washington sniffing around, expressing interest in my engines and a few of my weaponry designs.”

Alley stared. “And?”

“Martians crash-landed my hometown.” Charley grinned wryly at the blonde's expression. “I tried for a few months to keep working on my prototypes, but…” She sighed and shrugged. “The problem with private investors and the government is they’re all incredibly nosy. And they tend to be super paranoid about their investments. They wanna know exactly what they’re getting, how it’s all put together, what sort of equipment I use, where I get my parts… I couldn’t have the CIA poking around the garage with the guys constantly in and out. Three giant, talking alien mice would be just a little hard to explain. Not to mention where I acquired some of the more advanced components in my gadgets.”

“Yikes. I see your point.”

“Yeah. So, I just content myself with using my creativity to help out my best friends against the Plutarkian invasion. Little things like my spy bug will be a great help in the future. Once I perfect it, if we need info on Limburger's schemes, rather than putting ourselves in the direct line of fire, I can just send in a few of these little beauties to gather all the intel we need, safe and sound.”

Alley scoffed. “I dunno, Charley. That's all well and good, but isn’t putting themselves in direct line of fire sort of what they do? Being the psycho adrenaline junkies that they are and all…”

Charley snorted. “They might be. As for me, I have no such issues about giving my heart a few less attacks per month, thanks very much. Constant kidnapping never did sit well with me.”

#bmfm fanfiction #BMFM #Main Cast #OCs #Humor #Stoker's definitely got groveling to do #and Charley's a friggin' genius

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