#and for vince it's a big deal to have someone he is so comfortable around to make that possible cause he's very iffy about touch | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hockey-fics · 3 years

Text

Should Have Seen it Sooner ~ Vince Dunn

Summary: You make the decision to go visit your brother, Sammy, after graduating university. But that visit quickly becomes much more than you ever would have anticipated.

Warnings: verbal arguments, language, smut (nothing overly detailed)

Word Count: `13.5k

A/N: Let’s all pretend that Vince isn’t about to be traded ahahaha...I’m sad.

Your brother had always been your best friend. Even when you were kids and you refused to do so much as admit you liked him. He was the one who you would run to in the middle of the night when you were six and going through a phase of horrible nightmares. He would walk you back to your room, check under the bed and in the closet and lay with you till you fell asleep again. And when you were a little older and started having bad anxiety at school you would sit in the guidance counsellor’s office and refuse to talk to anyone but Sammy, who they would reluctantly pull out of class to come calm you down. When he had a bad loss in a hockey game he would come home and watch terrible reality tv with you, never wanting to talk about the game. He was the first person to make fun of you when you got a bad haircut but was also the first person to come to your defence when someone else made a comment about it. He picked you up drunk from many highschool parties, promising not to tell mom and dad. You helped him with girl issues, carefully constructing text messages to girls he liked, planning his dates for him and giving him pep talks before those dates.

So when he moved to St. Louis and seemed to be settling in there for awhile you had to admit you were quite upset. Of course growing up with him in hockey you were used to long periods without him, stretches of time when he was on the road. But him moving so far wasn’t easy for you. Then you moved away for university and while it wasn’t any easier, the distraction of new people, new places, and new experiences was enough to make it more bearable.

But once you graduated you were back to square one, realizing you were lost without your brother. So you took your degree and ran straight to St. Louis to spend whatever free time you had between graduating university and starting your life and career with Sammy.

It had been two weeks since you got there, making yourself comfortable in Sammy and Vince’s spare bedroom. You had only briefly met Vince prior to the trip but you were quickly becoming acquainted with him, despite the fact that he spent most of his free time playing video games which you were not about to distract him from.

“Why are you even going on a date?” Sammy asks, sprawled across the guest room bed with his phone in his hands as you stand on the other side of the room in front of the mirror over the dresser, curling your hair. “You’re don’t even live here.”

Glancing at him through the mirror you let a strand of still hot hair fall over your shoulder. “Do you only ever go on dates if you’re imagining spending the rest of your life with the person?”

Sammy looks over at you, his nose crinkling. “Gross.”

“What?” Your eyebrows are furrowed as you set your curling iron down, turning around to look at Sammy.

“You’re just going on a date with this guy to get fuck-.”

“Stop,” you exclaim, eyes widening. The last thing you wanted was your older brother thinking about your sex life. “No, I’m just meeting people, going out, having fun. I’m not just trying to get…fucked,” you tell him, turning around to look back into the mirror and continue on with your hair. “If that was the case I wouldn’t be putting this much effort into my appearance when it’ll just get wrecked in-.”

“No,” Sammy exclaims, pushing himself up off your bed. “I don’t want to hear it.” Laughing you watch him walk out of your room, shaking his head.

An hour later you’re in Sammy’s car after he convinced you to let him drive you to your date instead of taking an Uber. “Call me when you want me to pick you up,” Sammy tells you as you climb out of your car.

“Okay, dad,” you joke, rolling your eyes as you say your goodbye to Sammy, closing the door.

And call Sammy you did, only it was much earlier than you had expected. The date had gone terribly. It was only twenty minutes into the date, the drinks you had ordered not even at your table yet, when he suggested just leaving and going back to his place. And the suggestive comments didn’t stop, till ten minutes later and you were wondering if he was even going to let you leave at the end of the night without putting up a fight. So you excused yourself to the bathroom, pulling your phone out and dialling Sammy’s number. But he didn’t answer. So you called again, and he didn’t answer. Four more times and you were about to hang up and get an Uber when the dial tone cuts out.

“He didn’t answer the first ten times, why would he answer now?” It’s Vince’s voice, annoyed but also distant and you’re pretty sure that means he’s in the middle of gaming.

“Where’s Sammy?”

“The shower,” Vince tells you, too preoccupied with what he was doing to even so much as question the six, back-to-back phone calls.

“Can you tell him to come pick me up as soon as he’s out of the shower?” You ask, sniffling as you feel an overwhelming wash of panic come over you. This meant you would have to go back and sit with that man for even longer. “Or, could you just go like knock on the door? Tell him to hurry…please?”

“What’s wrong?” Vince asks, his tone shifting slightly.

“I…he-he’s weird,” you mutter, anxiously running your fingers through your hair. “Creepy,” you add, making him aware that it wasn’t a matter of simply not clicking on a first date.

“Text me the restaurant you’re at.”

“What? Sammy knows,” you tell him.

“I’m coming to get you.”

You wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to. You hated burdening people, hated asking for help. But that was far outweighed by your anxiety about the man at the table on the other side of the restaurant. “Thank you, I’ll text it to you now,” you tell him, saying a quick goodbye before hanging up and texting the address to Vince.

’on my way’ Vince sends back immediately.

You spend another few minutes in the bathroom before heading out to the restaurant, slowly making your way to the table. “Hey, I just got a text from my friend. I have to leave,” you tell him, leaving a ten dollar bill on the table, more than enough to cover the drink you ordered but never even got a sip of.

Outside you stand near the entrance of the restaurant, not wanting to stray too far from the brightly lit entrance. You’re surprised when you see Vince’s car pull up in front of you. Not because you didn’t think he would show up, but because you weren’t expecting him to be there that quickly. Hurrying to the passenger’s side door you hop into his car, silent as you stare out the front window, pulling your seatbelt across your body.

“That bad?” Vince asks, putting his car back in drive and pulling away from the restaurant.

“Yes,” is all you’re able to mutter leaning back in your seat, elbow on the window sill as you rest you head in your hand.

“Too bad,” Vince comments, glancing over at you, “You look good tonight, sucks it was wasted on an asshole.”

Your cheeks get warm, palms sweaty, and you’re not sure why. All you can manage to do is glance over at Vince and mutter a simple, “thanks, I guess.”

The next thing you know you’re in a Dairy Queen drive through and Vince is looking over at you. “What do you want?”

“I didn’t…wait, what?” But Vince is pulling up to the speaker before you have any longer to question it so you tell him what you want and wait in silence till he pulls ahead. “I didn’t realize we were getting ice cream.”

“And we’re going to watch that shitty tv show you’re always trying to get Sammy to watch,” Vince tells you, clearly having already constructed a plan for how he was going to turn the night around for you.

“Thank you, Vince,” you whisper and he glances over, eyes meeting yours before shrugging casually, as if it was no big deal. But it was. It was a big deal. He had already gone out of his way to pick you up, something he didn’t need to do. Now he was committing to trying to cheer you up.

Before you know it you’re back at Sammy and Vince’s apartment and Sammy is lost beyond hope regarding the situation. “It’s okay,” you assured Sammy when he asked you about the six phone calls the second you walked through the front door. “Vince came to get me.”

“Why?” Sammy asks, glancing back and forth between the two of you.

“Because you have terrible timing to go have a shower.” Tugging your jacket off you hang it up on the hook by the door. “I should have listened to you, dating is just a bad idea.”

“Well I didn’t exactly say that,” Sammy mutters, following after you and Vince as you head towards the living room. “What happened?”

“My date was a creep, I called your phone…a few times, and Vince answered after he got annoyed with listening to it ring.”

“I wasn’t annoyed,” Vince chimes in, flopping down onto the end of the couch.

Rolling your eyes you glance over at Vince, shaking your head. “Don’t lie, I heard how annoyed you were.”

“I wasn’t annoyed,” Vince repeats, eyes locked on yours.

“Fine,” you comment, but you were still convinced it was a lie and he was just trying not to sound like an asshole after finding out about the situation. “We’re going to watch Selling Sunset, want to join?”

Sammy furrows his eyebrows, glancing over at Vince. “You’re going to watch Selling Sunset?” He asks, directing his question at Vince.

Walking over you sit down on the opposite end of the couch from Vince, pulling your legs and crossing them as you reach for the remote.

“Yeah,” Vince replies, looking over at Sammy while grabbing the remote for you and handing it to you.

Sammy stands in a stunned silence for a minute, staring at Vince in disbelief. He could barely ever convince Vince to let him pick a series and now here he was, willing to watch a reality tv show about Los Angeles real estate. “Okay,” Sammy finally mutters, settling into the love seat on the other side of the room, exchanging silent glances with you. Silent glances that asked, ‘what’s going on?’ But you couldn’t answer, verbally or silently, because you weren’t really sure where this behaviour was coming from with Vince.

A few episodes later and you decide to put Vince and Sammy, who were trying their best to seem like they actually cared about what was on the screen, out of their misery. “I’m going to head to bed,” you tell them, handing the remote to Vince as you push yourself off the couch, stretching your arms over your head. “Thanks again, for everything tonight,” you tell Vince.

“Anytime,” he replies, watching as you walk out of the living room and into the guest room down the hall.

It’s not long before there’s a knock on your door and you look up from where you were laying on the bed scrolling through your phone. Sammy pushes the door open, taking two bounding steps before throwing himself onto your bed. “What happened tonight?” He asks, his tone a serious shift from his actions of throwing himself around like a ragdoll.

Shrugging you lock your phone, setting it down and adjusting higher on your pillow so you could see your brother without fully committing to actually sitting up. “My date was just creepy…he kept trying to get me to leave with him like 5 minutes into the date.”

Sammy visibly tenses up when he hears this, shifting to sit up as he looks down at you. “So you called Vince?”

“I called you,” you exclaim, laughing as you reach other, grabbing a pillow and swinging it towards him. “But you seemed to think the date was going to last longer than half an hour.”

“I’m sorry,” Sammy tells you, and you can tell that he really means it. Normally you were sure he wouldn’t care about not being able to pick you up at the exact moment you wanted him to. He was your brother after all, he cared, but he wasn’t sweet about it. This was just a different type of situation, you knew it, he knew it, and thankfully, Vince had figured that out too.

“It’s fine, I just won’t rely on you…ever again,” you joke.

“That’ll last like twenty minutes,” Sammy replies, laying back down along the foot of your bed. “Till you find a spider in your room and refuse to come back in till I kill it for you.”

“Don’t put that in the universe, that’s so mean to wish that upon me.”

You and Sammy continue talking till you’re about to drift off to sleep and he sneaks out of your room, like he did when you were six and had a nightmare.

A couple days later Sammy and Vince had to go on a five day road trip and you considered going home, brought up the idea to Sammy. He pointed out the fact that you had a key to the apartment, you had gotten comfortable there, and it was only five days. So you agreed to stay, relatively easily at that. Because if you were being honest, you missed being around Sammy, and you were happier there than you had been in awhile.

The morning they were leaving you were saying your goodbyes, hugging Sammy quickly. “Good luck, I’ll miss you. I promise I won’t throw any parties,” you joked. You were used to sad goodbyes with Sammy, after he would come home during the summer and you would have to say goodbye for months. This one felt so different though, knowing it was only a few days apart. It was comforting.

When you pulled away you looked over at Vince, hesitating a second before throwing your arms around him too. “Good luck,” you told him, his arms tight around your waist. It was different than your hug with Sammy, of course it would be, but you weren’t prepared for just how different. You weren’t prepared for the the scent of his cologne, the way he held you tight to his body, the warmth radiating from him, would make your stomach fill with butterflies. “I’ll miss you as well,” you added, playing it off as a joke, but you knew it wasn’t really a joke.

Vince had chuckled in response, your body absorbing the way his laughter rumbled through his body. “I’ll miss you too,” he whispered, sending a shiver down your spine with the quiet tone of his voice. He had pulled away, looking at you once more before the two of them headed out.

You went about your normal routine while they were gone but the quietness of the apartment was starting to get to you around day three, leaving you longing for not just your brother but Vince as well, to be back. So when Sammy told you the time they would be back you went all out, going grocery shopping and picking up all of Sammy’s favourite foods and the few you remember Vince mentioning liking. And you were halfway through cooking dinner for everyone when they got back from their trip.

“Hey,” you called from the kitchen, sautéing a pan full of vegetables, music playing loudly from the speaker on the counter a few feet away. “I’m making dinner, if you guys already ate I’m going to be sad.”

“We didn’t.” Shockingly it’s Vince who’s greets you first, walking up behind you and leaning over your shoulder to look into the pan.

“How was the flight home?” You ask, turning your head to glance up at Vince. He’s closer than you expected and you can’t stop the smile that spreads on your face. You’re convinced it’s because you’re just glad to have people around again, and not because you had really started to like Vince.

“Pretty good,” Vince tells you, stepping to the side to lean against the counter beside the stove. “How was your week alone in my house?”

Rolling your eyes you set the spatula down beside the stove, looking up at him. “Fantastic, your bed is so much more comfortable than the one in the guest room.”

“Oh, really?” Vince chuckles. “I’m willing to share.”

You’re caught off guard by Vince’s comment, unable to come up with a witty response before Sammy is in the room as well. “What are you making?” Sammy asks, walking over and giving you a quick hug before immediately plugging his phone into the nearest outlet and unlocking his phone, typing quickly.

“Stir fry…who are you talking to?” You ask Sammy, your tone teasing.

Sammy shakes his head but his little smile tells you that it’s not nothing. “Ooh,” you laugh, stepping away from the stove to try to look at Sammy’s phone. But he pulls it away quickly and the next thing you know you’re wrestling for Sammy’s phone like you’re both teenagers again. “Just tell me,” you laugh, hand grasping for his phone as he pushes your arm back with his free hand.

“Her name is Anna,” Vince says.

Pulling back from Sammy you glance over at Vince, shocked at his willingness to let you in on Sammy’s business. “Oh,” you hum, picking up the spatula again to stir the vegetables in the pan. “So, who’s Anna?”

“A girl I’ve been talking to for a few weeks,” Sammy tells you easily. There was never really any need to keep it a secret, he was just playing the part of an annoying older brother in trying to keep it a secret. “We went on a date a couple days before we left.”

“You didn’t tell me you were going on a date?”

“I actually didn’t think it would lead to anything,” Sammy confesses.

“Like Y/N’s dating life,” Vince quips.

You whip your head in Vince’s direction, gasping at his comment. “You’re an asshole,” you exclaim, laughing. “I’ll let you know, I could have a boyfriend if I wanted…I’m just not trying right now.”

“Seemed like you were trying,” Vince chuckles.

“I swear to god, Vince,” you mutter, wielding the spatula you were holding with a joking threat.

“Can one of you shut up so we don’t burn the house down, please,” Sammy chimes in and draws your attention back to the vegetables that were starting to stick to the pan. As you go back to finishing up dinner the boys continue on with their own conversations, discussing things that happened over the trip and the upcoming schedule for the week.

After you all finish dinner you’re back in the kitchen to tidy up and do some dishes, but Vince is at your side at the sink quickly after. Nudging you to the side Vince grabs the wash cloth from your hand. “I got it,” he tells you.

“I don’t mind,” you retort, not moving much further away from the beside the sink. “I’m sure you guys are tired.”

“I slept on the flight,” Vince informs you, running the cloth over a mixing bowl in the sink.

Huffing you step away from him, “fine.” Walking to the cupboard you grab the box of tea you bought a few days prior, taking a mug down as well as you turn the kettle on. “Want some tea?”

Vince chuckles, an obvious enough answer, but he follows it up with “no, thanks,” anyway. “So did you go on anymore dates while we were gone?”

Rolling your eyes you hop up onto the counter while you wait for your tea to steep, watching Vince do the dishes. “No, nobody here was to rescue me if it went poorly.”

“So what did you actually do the whole time we were gone?”

Shrugging you bring the tea to your lips, taking a sip of the hot liquid. “Hung out with some friends a few times, explored the city, watched all your games.”

“Friends?”

“Yes, Vince, I’m capable of making friends,” you mutter, rolling your eyes.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Vince chuckles, glancing over at you. “I just mean, like, you’re just here visiting and you’re still making friends? Where did you meet them anyway?”

“The gym,” you inform him, your voice quiet and deflated. You didn’t really like to think about that fact, about the reality that you would have to make some kind of move soon. You couldn’t live in this vacation-like reality forever. No matter how much you wanted to.

After the dishes are done Vince heads to his computer to play video games and you head to the living room to watch some TV till Sammy was done unpacking and you could convince him to hang out with you and give you all the details about Anna.

And two days later Sammy was beyond glad that he had given you all the details about Anna when he sent you a panicky text. The boys had the day off and Sammy had gone out to run a few errands while you were hanging out at the house with Vince. ‘I told Anna I would cook her dinner at my place.’

‘that’s dumb, you can’t cook’ you replied quickly, sitting on the couch and watching Vince play video games. You were trying to be more involved with that after he had started watching the occasional episode of Selling Sunset with you.

‘that’s not the issue’ ‘I’ll figure that out’ ‘You and Vince can’t be there, it’ll be awkward’

Sighing you glance up from your phone screen to Vince. “Vince,” you call, standing up from the couch and making your way across the room. “We gotta go.”

“Where?” Vince mutters, not peeling his eyes off the screen in front of him.

“I don’t know,” you confess while sending Sammy a text to tell him you were on it, to give you twenty minutes and you’d be out. “Sammy is kicking us out.”

“What?” Vince asks, spinning in his chair once his game had ended.

“He needs the apartment for a date, now hurry up, we’re going out for awhile.”

Vince groans and sets his controller down, reluctantly pulling himself off the chair. “I didn’t agree to this.”

“I agreed on your behalf.” Walking into your room you grab a jacket, your wallet, and keys before hurrying back towards the door where Vince was already pulling on his shoes. “Have anything you needed to get done?” You ask him once you had your shoes on and you were on your way out the door behind Vince.

“I would have already been doing it.”

Rolling your eyes you reach forward and shove him playfully. “If you don’t stop being an asshole I’ll drop you off at the library for four hours.”

“It’s my car…and I’m driving.”

“No, please, let me drive,” you ask, shuffling quickly in front of him and spinning around so you were facing him. Sammy had given you permission to drive his car while he was out of town and you had loved exploring the city, not really knowing where you were going, just driving.

“No, I’ve seen you drive.” Vince keeps his hand folded firmly over his car keys, gazing down at you.

“That was one time,” you defend.

“One time we almost died.”

Rolling your eyes you cross your arms over your chest. “You’re so dramatic, it wasn’t that bad.”

Suddenly Vince has his hands on your arms and he’s spinning you around, pushing you towards the car. “Get in the car,” his voice is filled with urgency and you notice Sammy pulling up towards the apartment parking lot.

Giggling at the whole situation you hop into his car, watching Sammy pull into his parking stall. Neither you or Vince had to bring up the idea of staying in the car and doing a little light-hearted spying, you were silently on board with the idea. You watch Sammy get out, trying to make it to the passenger’s side of the car to open Anna’s door but she’s already getting out and you watch as the awkwardly fumble around the door for a second. Both you and Vince glance over at each other at the same, bursting into laughter.

“No, but they are cute together,” you comment through your giggles, watching as they laugh off the exchange, Sammy closing the door behind her.

“He wouldn’t shut up about her over the trip.”

“That’s cute.” You watch as they head into the apartment building together before turning your attention back to Vince. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Vince turns his car on, putting it into drive and pulling out of the parking lot, no real destination in mind.

“You must have someone you can’t shut up about…I mean, look at you,” you comment absentmindedly, not really thinking about how it would come across.

“Are you calling me hot, Y/N?”

“Well,” you hum, laughing as your cheeks redden slightly. “I think it’s like, objective, you know. Anyone would say you’re hot.”

“So you don’t personally find me hot?”

“Oh my god,” you exclaim, shaking your head as Vince simply chuckles. He was really trying his hardest to keep you from getting out of that one easily. “Where are we going?”

“The library, I’m leaving you there,” Vince jokes.

“Great, books are more entertaining than you anyway,” you quip.

“I was going to take you to get a coffee but maybe not now.”

“No,” you whine, laughing. Vince had clearly noticed when all three of you would get in the car to go anywhere the first time thing out of your mouth was ‘can we get a coffee’? “I take it back then.”

So a few minutes later you’re in the drive through at Starbucks and you don’t even need to tell Vince your order because he has it memorized, which you’re surprised by. He pays for your coffee even though you insist that you can buy it. Then you’re driving again and you end up parked in front of a shoe store.

“I actually did have something I needed to get done,” Vince tells you, chuckling.

“Oh, so you were just being rude for no good reason then,” you comment, hoping out of the car after him and walking towards the store with Vince. “Does this mean I get to help you pick shoes?”

“Uh,” Vince mutters, glancing down to your shoes. “No.”

“Take me to the library, you’re so mean,” you whine, playfully pushing his arm.

Vince laughs, reaching over and grabbing your hand as you push him. “Come on,” he huffs jokingly, pulling you along into the store. And you suddenly can’t focus on anything but his hand, the way it so easily wrapped around yours, warm and secure. But it makes you nervous, the way it causes butterflies to fill your stomach, so you pull it away quickly.

You’re in the shoe store much longer than you though, Vince taking an excessively long amount of time to make a decision. But you don’t mind because in all honesty, you simply liked being around Vince. Your next stop is for dinner and Vince picks the restaurant, still acting as an unofficial tour guide for you.

By the time dinner is over you had expected to receive a text from Sammy, letting you know that it was fine to come home. But you get nothing, so you and Vince go get ice cream and drive to a lookout, listening to music and eating your dessert. Your conversation flows easily and you would happily have sat there for hours with Vince, talking and joking. But you get a text message from Sammy shortly after telling you he was taking Anna home.

“We’re safe to go back,” you tell Vince, pulling your seatbelt back on.

“Too bad,” Vince mutters.

“What?”

Vince glances across the interior of the car at you, silent for a second as he tugs his seatbelt on. “It’s just been more fun than I thought this would be.”

“I don’t know how to take that,” you laugh. It was nice to hear he had been having a good time, but you didn’t know if you should be upset that he was anticipating it not being a very good time.

Vince chuckles, not saying anything else about it as the two of you drive back to the apartment. You’re back before Sammy and you head for the living room, Vince following after you and not putting saying anything as you pick the movie for the night.

‘going to get an uber now’

You had gone out with your new group of friends for the night, one drink turning to two and two turning to a count you had lost long ago. You had been texting Vince all night, though it wasn’t anything new. The two of you had fallen into a routine of texting almost anytime you were apart. He had picked up on your dwindling sobriety throughout the night, as almost anyone reading your messages could have. So when you told him you were getting an Uber he was quick to reply.

‘I’ll come get you, where are you?’

So you sent him your address, you and your friends paying your bills before heading outside for everyone to wait for their rides. Shockingly it’s Vince who shows up first and your friends are quick to make comments about how none of their real boyfriends were that quick to get there. You brushed it all off, making excuses that he was just a good friend, that he was probably speeding anyway, that you didn’t live that far. Anything to not admit the fact that you and Vince might have a connection that was becoming more than just friendly.

“Hi,” you greet, cheerful as you climb into Vince’s car. It was so unlike the first time he picked you up and Vince was grateful for that, not just because you were in a better mood but also because it meant you hadn’t been out on a date.

“How was your night?” Vince laughs.

“Good,” you giggle, looking over at him as he drives back to the apartment. And you can’t help but think about how attractive he truly was, how he made your heart beat just a little faster. He was your brother’s best friend and you knew the feelings you were having towards him were complicated. “Yours?”

“Probably not as good as yours,” he jokes, taking note of the way you couldn’t stop smiling, primarily a result of the alcohol in your system. But there was also a part of you that was just happy to be around him.

“So anyway, Michael has been staying late at work all the time and Lily is starting to get suspicious about it,” you ramble as you walk through the apartment door with Vince. It’s quiet in the apartment and you realize you hadn’t texted Sammy in awhile, wondering if he was in bed. “Sammy?” You call, stumbling slightly over the edge of the doormat.

Vince wraps an arm around your waist, steadying you as he laughs. “He’s in bed,” Vince tells you. “What do you need?”

“Nothing,” you admit, clutching onto the arm Vince had wrapped around your waist. “Just wanted to say hi to him.”

Vince chuckles and nods. “I think you should go to bed too.” He gently guides you further into the apartment, reaching over to turn the deadbolt on the door while keeping one arm around you, as if you couldn’t stand on your own.

“Hey, Vince,” you whisper although you didn’t need to get his attention.

“Yes, Y/N?” He steps closer now, looking down at you in the silent apartment, waiting to hear what your drunk mind was coming up with.

“Thank you, for everything, for letting me stay here this long. I promise I’ll leave soon. I know you didn’t sign up to have two roommates.”

Vince smiles softly, shrugging. “Don’t worry about it. I like having you here. I don’t, you know, want you to leave if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Oh,” you whisper, processing the idea that you weren’t annoying Vince with your extended stay. “I mean it though, thank you.”

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Vince says, changing the subject as he guides you through the apartment to the guest bedroom. He hovers near the doorway, clearly wanting to make sure you were settled in bed before leaving you.

You knew he was there, you knew you should ask him to look away if he wanted to stay till you were in bed, but you don’t. Instead you simply pull your shirt up over your head, exposing a lacy black bra you had worn for no real reason except that it made you feel confident. Shimmying your jeans down your legs you toss them aside carelessly. You don’t even look over at Vince as you reach behind you to unhook that bra, missing the way he stood there, stunned and frozen with his eyes on you. You let your bra fall to the ground, your body angled away from Vince as you grab a t-shirt from the dresser.

“Y/N?” Sammy’s voice calls through the apartment.

“Fuck,” you mutter, clutching the shirt to your bare chest. Your wide eyes look over at Vince who comically steps back and forth between the wide-open bedroom door, clearly not knowing what the correct move was. “Just close it.” And Vince does exactly that, from the inside. “Vince,” you groan.

“You told me to,” he defends, his hand still resting on the doorknob.

“From outside,” you tell him. “Now this just looks…weird.”

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Sammy calls through the closed bedroom door.

“Yeah,” you call back, spinning around to leave your back facing Vince as you pull your t-shirt on, grateful for the size and length of it. “Just getting ready for bed.”

“Okay, just wanted to make sure you got home safe.”

Home. Your eyes flick over to Vince, trying to see if he caught onto the same, subtle insinuation. But he still just looked panicky as he stands beside the closed door. “Yeah, I’m just going to bed now.”

“Can I come in and say goodnight?”

Your heart begins to race as stare at Vince in silence for a second. “Yeah.”

You couldn’t say no, he would immediately know that something was wrong. Sammy pushes the door open a second later and Vince looks to you in panic. “How was-,” Sammy begins to ask when he spots Vince, looking back and forth between the two of you. “What’s going on?”

You weren’t sure why you felt so guilty. You hadn’t done anything with Vince, it wasn’t a lie to say that nothing was happening, that he was just making sure you got to bed safely. Maybe the reason you felt so guilty was because that wasn’t all you wanted to happen. “Vince picked me up, was just making sure I got to bed safely.”

Sammy nods slowly, not seeming convinced. “Well I got it from here,” he mutters to Vince, nodding towards the still open door. Vince glances back at you one more time before leaving, the silence in the room painful. “What’s going on?” Sammy repeats once it’s just you and him.

“Nothing,” you exclaim, flopping down onto your bed and climbing under the covers, hoping to make it obvious that you didn’t have anything else to say.

“You two are getting really close,” Sammy points out. “Are you sure it’s nothing?”

“Yes,” you huff, dramatically yanking your blankets higher up around your shoulders. “Go back to bed.”

“Don’t have to be so moody,” Sammy grumbles, turning off your light and closing the door behind him as he leaves your room. Once he’s gone you lay awake for most of the night, your mind racing with thoughts of Vince. Thoughts you knew you shouldn’t be feeling towards him but the more you tried to think of anything other than him the more vivid the thoughts became till your mind eventually silenced itself completely and you drifted to sleep.

“I’m spending the night at Anna’s place,” Sammy told you a few days later as he was grabbing his keys off the counter and heading for the door.

Giggling you glance up from the book you were reading, shooting him a knowing look.

“Don’t be weird,” he comments, chuckling.

“What do you mean? I didn’t say anything,” you joke, feigning innocence.

“I don’t know where Vince is, he left while you were at the gym, don’t know when he’ll be back,” Sammy informs.

“Have fun tonight,” you call as he walks out the front door.

A few hours later you’ve migrated to the kitchen, finishing up baking some cookies while you were trying to figure out how you wanted to spend the rest of the evening.

“Hey.”

Jumping you whirl around to face the direction of that the sudden voice comes from. Bringing your hand to your chest over your racing heart you laugh in relief when you see it’s just Vince. “You scared me, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Sorry,” Vince chuckles, reaching over and taking one of the cookies off the cooling rack on the counter. “Where’s Sammy?”

“He’s at Anna’s place for the night,” you explain, leaning against the counter. “Are they good? It’s a new recipe.”

“Yeah, really good. So we’re alone tonight?” Vince asks, elbows on the counter as he leans against it, eyes focused on you.

“Can’t believe he left us without supervision,” you joke, pulling the last tray of cookies out of the oven before turning it off.

“What do you want to do?”

“Movie night?”

“Sure,” Vince agrees, shrugging as he pushes himself off the counter. “Let’s go pick up dinner first.”

After a quick trip to the grocery store and your favourite sushi restaurant you’re back at the apartment, pouring yourself a glass of wine while Vince was already opening up the boxes of sushi. “Want some?” You ask Vince, gesturing to the wine.

“Uh,” he hums before shaking his head. “I’ll pass on that,” he chuckles, walking to the fridge and grabbing a beer for himself.

“Should have figured,” you giggle, putting the white wine back into the fridge.

In the living room you two settle onto the couch to have dinner and pick the first movie of the night. Halfway through the second movie you’ve lost your focus on the plot, eyes on your phone as you curl into the corner of the couch, scrolling through your instagram feed.

“What is more interesting than this movie?” Vince questions, gesturing to the tv and the movie he had picked that was playing on it.

Glancing up you roll your eyes playfully. “Almost anything.” Scooting down the couch you settle in beside Vince, letting him see your phone screen.

And within seconds the movie is long forgotten as he chuckles at a meme you scroll by. The transition from Instagram to TikTok is quick and so is the movement from you sitting beside Vince to you being tucked under his arm and leaning into his side. You’re both giggling at the short videos and the time slips by quickly, the credits on the tv rolling and reminding you of the fact that you had planned a movie night. “Do I get to pick the next one?”

Vince reluctantly hands you the remote, wrapping his arm around you as you rest your head against his shoulder. His body is warm and his embrace is comforting and you know you shouldn’t want to stay like this with him forever, but you do.

The next movie is more interesting but you find it just as hard to focus on with the way you were wrapped up in Vince’s arms. You’re not even sure what compels you to look up at Vince, he hadn’t said anything, hadn’t moved. But he notices and turns his attention to you a second later. “What?” He asks, voice low and rough in a way that makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Nothing,” you whisper, barely able to make any sound come from your mouth as your cheeks get hot. And you want to say the flushing is from the wine but it only started when Vince’s eyes landed on your and you know he wouldn’t believe your lie.

“Are you sure?”

You swallow hard, shifting slightly towards him. “I don’t know.”

Vince’s lips curl into a soft smile, eyes lingering on your lips as he reaches forward to brush a piece of your hair out of your face. “Then just show me what you’re thinking.”

It’s an invitation and you know he’s saying it because he already knows exactly what you’re thinking. But it’s risky and you both know that, too scared to make the move when the potential of it ending poorly is so high. But you can’t hold back any longer. So you lean forward, just enough for him to get the message and he takes over, hand around the back of your head as he leans over and kisses you.

And he kisses you like he’s making every second worth it if things do end poorly. When you pull back your mind is racing a million miles an hour but your body is begging to do it again. You wait a second, hoping Vince would say something. But he doesn’t, and you don’t either, and you can’t think of anything better to do than lean back in and press your lips back against his. This time it’s heated in a way that you had never felt before and you’re climbing into his lap, hips grinding down on him. You weren’t aware of just how badly you needed him to touch you until that very minute when his lips brushed against yours.

“Are you going to actually share your bed with me tonight?” You whisper against his lips when you finally pull back.

“I would’ve shared my bed with you any night you wanted.” Vince grasps your hips, gently pushing you away from him and helping you onto your feet before standing up with you. “Are you sure?”

Smiling you lean up, kissing him quickly again. “Yes, of course.”

Vince wraps his large hand around yours, slowly walking you through the apartment. As if he didn’t want to seem too eager, careful and tentative around the whole situation.

But once you’re in his room, on his bed, Vince is far less careful and tentative. And the night ends with you feeling barely able to move, body having ridden through more highs in one go than you had ever felt.

As soon as you’re done Vince goes back to being careful, considerate as the two of you shower together and he lets you pick out a t-shirt before curling up under the covers of his bed.

“Should we have done that?” You finally whisper after laying next to Vince with your head on his chest in silence for what felt like ages.

“I’m not sure,” Vince admits with an obvious reluctance, running his hand along your bare arm.

“Sammy was already suspicious of us.”

“I figured,” Vince tells you, sighing. “After the night I picked you up?”

“Yeah…I told him it was nothing…I mean, like, I know it was nothing, but-.”

“It wasn’t,” Vince interrupts, pulling you a little closer and pressing his lips to your forehead. “This isn’t nothing to me, Y/N. If I just wanted a quick fuck I definitely wouldn’t pick my best friend and roommate’s sister, no matter how hot you are.”

“Oh,” is all you can say, caught off guard. “Well then, what does it mean?”

Vince is quiet for too long after you ask, the only way you could tell he was still awake in the dark room was his hand still running up and down your arm. “I have feelings for you, but other than that…I don’t know,” Vince finally mutters.

“I think we need to give it some time, not tell Sammy this happened yet.”

“Just go back to the way things were?”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

Vince moves his hands to your waist, pulling you on top of him.

“Vince,” you exclaim, hands clambering for support till they find his bare shoulders, holding you up as you look down at his silhouette below you.

“I don’t know if I can do that,” Vince chuckles, his thumbs running along your upper thighs, large hands now wrapped around the backs of them.

“I think you can,” you assure him, leaning down to press your lips to his. But the fact that you could feel him getting hard again makes you a little wary about whether he really could. “Maybe,” you whisper, moving your hips back as you reach down, wrapping around his length.

“Fuck,” he groans, head tipping back on the pillow. And the last thing you had expected when you crawled into Vince’s bed after the first few rounds was to be doing it again. But you were making up for lost time. It’s slower this time, both of your tired bodies just searching for another release. And you find it, easier than normal, on top of Vince still in his t-shirt, panties simply pushed to the side.

When you finish Vince is quick to help you get cleaned up again, letting you remain collapsed on his bed. You can’t stop your heart from fluttering with excitement with him, at how considerate and caring he was. And when he finally settles back down you curl back into his side. “We need to agree on something.”

“Alright,” Vince mutters apprehensively.

“We can’t hook up when Sammy is here, it’s too risky.”

“Fine,” Vince finally agrees after a couple minutes of contemplation. The two of you drift to sleep very shortly after.

Your eyes flutter open to a gentle shaking of your shoulder. “Hey, babe, you have to wake up,” Vince says, voice quiet. “Sammy and I have practice in a couple hours, he’s going to be home soon.”

Groaning you roll away from him, head buried in his pillow. “It’s too early.”

“I know,” Vince chuckles sitting on the edge of the bed and running his hand along your arm. “You’re the one who doesn’t want your brother to find out.”

“Don’t act like you want him to know you railed his sister the first time he left us alone,” you mumble, still half asleep.

“When you put it that way,” Vince chuckles, head whipping towards the bedroom door when he hears the sound of the front door closing.

“Shit,” you whisper, suddenly fully awake as you sit up completely straight.

“Just stay here, I’ll tell him you haven’t come out of you room yet this morning,” Vince suggests.

Nodding you run your hands through your messy hair, anxiety creeping up on you. If you were going to tell Sammy anything at this point you would rather just admit that you and Vince had feelings for each other, not that you spent the night in his bed.

“Don’t worry, it’s believable. It’s not like you don’t normally sleep in till one in the afternoon.”

Scoffing you roll your eyes, flopping back onto Vince’s bad. “Whatever,” you grumble. “Text me when you two are gone,” you mutter, glad your phone had been in your pocket when you made your way to Vince’s room the night before.

And when you finally get a text from Vince saying they were gone you pull yourself out of bed, making it behind you before wandering out of the bedroom. The apartment is so quiet and you make yourself some coffee, still just in Vince’s t-shirt. Something about it feels so right, so comfortable. After making a coffee you settle down on one of the barstools at the counter in the kitchen, opening your laptop and navigating to Indeed and before you’re even fully processing what you’re doing you’ve sent out a handful of resumes to jobs in St. Louis.

After you finish applying to jobs you move on to getting ready for the day. When Sammy and Vince finally get home you feel the weight of so many secrets on your chest. Of not telling Sammy about you and Vince, of not telling Sammy and Vince about applying for jobs in St. Louis.

“How was your night?” You ask Sammy as he walks into the kitchen, looking up over the top of your laptop.

“Good,” Sammy replies, grabbing himself a snack from the fridge. “How was yours?”

“Good,” you reply simply, looking back down at your computer.

“Up late?” Looking back up you stare at Sammy for a second, feeling like he was trying to catch you in a lie. “I mean, you were still in bed when I left this morning.”

Nodding you pick up your mug, shrugging. “TikTok is pretty addicting,” you comment, brushing it off as you take a sip of your coffee. “I’m going grocery shopping, do you have anything in particular that you need?”

“Just the regular stuff we keep in the house,” Sammy shrugs, not wanting to have to actually think about it.

Rolling your eyes you close your laptop and slide off the stool you were sitting on. “Really helpful, can I borrow your car?”

Sammy groans loudly. “What if I wanted to go out?”

“Well do you?”

“I’ll just take you,” Vince chimes in, walking into the room.

Glancing over your eyes linger on Vince’s for a second, wanting so badly to be able to say something or hug him, something…anything. “Thanks,” you finally mutter, realizing you needed to say something and not just stand there and stare at him.

“Want to go now?”

“Yeah, sure,” you agree, gathering your things and pulling on a hoodie on your way out the door. Once you’re outside you glance behind you and up at Vince. “So, since when are you so interested in grocery shopping?”

“Since it means being with you…away from your brother,” Vince chuckles, hands on your waist, tugging you to stop and pulling you into him. Leaning down he presses his lips to yours, your head tipped back and to the side, fingers clutching at his arm.

“You’re not being very secretive,” you giggle, pulling back and looking around the front parking lot of the apartment building.

“Fine, I’ll wait till we’re in the car.”

Rolling your eyes you get into the passenger’s side of Vince’s car. “We’re going to get groceries…that’s it.”

You drive to the closest grocery story and head inside with Vince, pushing the cart down almost every aisle, the two of you talking and making jokes the whole time. It’s such a mundane task, grocery shopping, but somehow doing it with Vince makes it enjoyable and fun.

Back at the apartment you lug an armload of groceries inside, seeing Sammy sitting on the couch, xbox controller in this hands. “Thanks for the help,” you call to him sarcastically.

Sammy chuckles, barely glancing in your direction. “You’ve got Vince.”

Your heart beats a little faster at that comment, dropping the bags onto the counter and looking over at Vince. You know that he didn’t miss the comment either by the smirk on his face, the way he walks over and wraps his arms around your waist. “See, he’s already accepted it,” Vince whispers jokingly.

“Shut up,” you giggle, rolling your eyes as you playfully push him away and turn around to begin putting groceries away. Vince continues to make subtle moves, sliding his hand along your lower back as he walks by to put a box of crackers into the cupboard, stepping up behind you to take the can of chickpeas that you were struggling to put onto the top shelf out of your hand and doing it for you. It takes you two forever to finally put everything away and once you do it’s time to start making dinner. “Are you going to help me or just be in my way?” You tease.

“I know you like having me around.”

Shaking your head you look down at the recipe on your phone, unable to argue against that. You really didn’t want Vince to leave, even if he was really just getting in your way. Because you liked Vince, a lot more than you should.

A few days later you received a call from one of the businesses you applied to asking you to come in for an interview, to which you easily agreed. It was during another four day span of Vince and Sammy being gone so you were able to get ready and go for your interview without any questions. There was something about admitting to the fact that you were trying to find a job in St. Louis that scared you. Perhaps it was simply because it was a little crazy. You would need to find a job willing to arrange a visa for you, you would need to find your own apartment, and quite frankly, you probably just hadn’t thought it through enough. But you didn’t want to leave either, you were having a good time here with your brother and Vince, although you were trying to convince yourself that Vince had nothing to do with the decision.

The interview went well and the next morning you got a call with a job offer. You accepted it quickly, not just because it meant you could stay in St. Louis but because it was also a job you were more than interested in.

Sammy and Vince get home later that afternoon and you pull Sammy into the living room. “I have some news.”

“Okay?” Sammy mutters, eyebrows furrowed, hands folded nervously over his knees as he sits on the edge of the couch.

“I got a job.”

“Oh, congratulations,” Sammy says, the news processing in his head as you watch his body language sink a little. “Does this mean you’re going back home?”

Shaking your head you fidget with a piece of thread on your hoodie sleeve. You weren’t sure why you were nervous to tell him that you had found a job there. “It’s here.”

Sammy has his arms around you quickly, pulling you to your feet and into a tight hug. “You’re staying here?”

Laughing you pull back from him, staring up at him in shock. You hadn’t expected him to be that excited about it. “Yes…I mean, I’ll obviously get my own place and car and everything but I’m going to be in the city.”

“What’s going on?” Vince asks, walking into the living room.

“I got a job here,” you tell him, voice quiet and apprehensive. You were a little worried that Vince wouldn’t be happy, that maybe he had only been into you because he figured you would be leaving, that it was a short term thing.

“Here? Like, you’re staying in St. Louis…for good?”

Nodding slowly you glance down at the ground, taking a deep breath. “Yeah.”

“Congratulations,” he tells you, walking over and pulling you into a hug.

“Thanks,” you mumble, pulling back to look up at Vince, trying to read his expression. Unfortunately you come up with nothing, sighing as you step away from him.

It’s not till much later that night when you even get the chance to talk to him more, Sammy barely leaving your side as he excitedly looked through apartment listings with you, even though he assured you that there was no rush for you to move out.

Once everyone had gone to bed you sneak out of your room and down the hallway to Vince’s bedroom, pushing it open slightly. “Vince?” You whisper, trying your hardest not to wake Sammy up in the process.

“Hey, babe,” Vince says softly, making your heart flutter so easily. “Are you going to come in?”

Slipping through the door you shut it softly behind you, fumbling through the dark bedroom to Vince’s bed. “Hey,” you mumble, climbing onto the empty side of the bed and sitting with you legs crossed, watching Vince sit up and lean against the headboard.

“What’s wrong?”

How he knew so quickly that you were worried about something was beyond your comprehension. Normally you weren’t easy to read but Vince saw right through it. “I just…if you thought this was something different because I was going to be leaving, I totally get that. We can go back to just being friends…or not, if you don’t want. We don’t have to tell Sammy, I can move into my own apartment and we can pretend this didn’t happen, it’s fine,” you ramble.

“Y/N,” Vince says quietly, reaching over and placing his hands around your waist, guiding you closer as you slide onto your knees. “I like you…I have feelings for you. I don’t want to pretend this didn’t happen.”

“I just thought, I don’t know. Your reaction earlier wasn’t what I expected.”

Vince pulls you over his lap, hands running along your thighs. “Because you don’t want Sammy to know about us and I didn’t want him to be suspicious if I seemed too happy about it.”

“Oh,” you whisper, sliding your hands along his bare chest, resting them on his shoulders.

Vince chuckles, pulling you closer and leaning up. “I didn’t want to be the one to suggest it, but I was hoping you would look for a job here,” Vince admits before pressing his lips to yours. And you kiss him back eagerly, arms around Vince’s shoulders.

Grinding your hips down into Vince you feel him already getting hard. And you needed him, more than you had ever felt you needed someone in your life.

“Our agreement,” Vince mutters against your lips.

You can feel his breath on your lips, can feel how hard he was below you, can feel every little shift of his fingers along your skin. “Vince, please,” you whimper.

“Fuck, you can’t say it like that and expect me not to cave,” Vince groans, hands on the hem of your t-shirt, yanking it up over your head swiftly. And it comes off easily, your lack of a bra leaving it easy for Vince to immediately bring his lips to your chest.

Tipping your head back you close your eyes, every single kiss, flick of his tongue over your nipples sends waves of anticipation through your body. “Vince,” you moan, rocking your hips back and forth against him, desperate for some kind of contact.

Reaching down Vince slides your pyjama shorts down your legs as you move from one leg to the other, helping him take them off. His hand slips between your bodies, fingers up along your folds towards your clit. He eases his way towards it, circling around your clit till your nails are digging into his back and your body is writhing in desperation. When he finally gets to your clit the wash of pleasure is enough to bring a quiet cry of relief from your lips.

“Fuck, I love hearing you, but I need you to be quiet,” Vince mutters in your ear as he brushes gentle circles over your clit. “Can you do that for me, baby girl?”

All you can manage to do is nod and hum out a muffled “mhm.”

“Good girl,” Vince mutters, replacing his fingers on your clit with his thumb, fingers travelling down towards your entrance, one finger sliding inside of you. You’re trying your hardest to stay quiet, head dropping down to Vince’s shoulder as you bite down on your bottom lip. “Fuck,” you whisper a few minutes later, a few muffled moans slipping from your lips as you reach your high.

Coming down from it you stay on Vince’s lap, pulling your head away from his shoulder to look into Vince’s eyes. Remaining where you were you reach down, hand guiding Vince towards your entrance, a heavy breath leaving your lips as you sink down onto him. Vince groans, hands on your hips as he shifts further down the bed. It’s unbelievably quiet in the room as the two of you find a rhythm, both of you fighting with every ounce of your self-control to remain quiet. You stay on top of Vince the entire time, both of you too scared to be too loud to switch positions. But it doesn’t take you long to reach your second wave of pleasure, your body already sensitive from the first. And it’s only a couple seconds after that Vince reaches his, groaning quietly as his grip on your hips tightens. When you climb off of him and collapse on the bed beside him Vince hops up, grabbing a towel for you and returning quickly to start the cleanup process.

After using the washroom you return to Vince’s bed, curling up at his side, head on his chest. “I shouldn’t sleep in here.”

Vince sighs, running his hand along your back. “We’re going to have to tell him.”

“Do we really, Romeo?” You joke, tugging the blankets up higher on your body despite the fact that you had just told Vince you weren’t spending the night.

There’s a few minutes of silence, Vince’s hand pausing on your back as if all his energy was being funnelled to his brain. “What?”

“Romeo and Juliet,” you tell him.

“You think I’m going to get your Shakespeare references?”

“At least you knew it was Shakespeare.”

Vince chuckles and shakes his head, “I’m not that stupid.”

“Well…,” you giggle, tipping your head back to look at Vince.

“Oh, really?” He laughs, grabbing your wrist and flipping you around onto your back. He hovers over top of you, pinning your wrists down. “That was kinda rude.”

“Too bad I’m actually into this,” you whisper, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you bite gently on your bottom lip.

Vince groans quietly, rolling off of you and flopping back onto his back. “Why is everything you do so hot?”

“Kinda glad you think that way, seems like it gives me an upper hand.”

“Looking like that you definitely have the upper hand, for sure,” Vince chuckles, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pulls you into him. And the two of you continue talking, the whole time you were fully intending to make your way back to your own bed.

But you don’t ever make it out of Vince’s room that night.

“Get your lazy ass up.” You’re startled away by a voice yelling through Vince’s door, fist knocking a minute later. “We’re going to be late for practice again, enculé.”

“Oh, shit,” you mutter under your breath, grasping at the blankets on Vince’s bed yanking them up over your bare torso as you sit up. “Vince,” you whisper, shaking his somehow still sleeping form.

“Hmm?” He hums, rolling over to face you. “What’s wrong?”

But before you have the chance to say anything Vince’s door flies open and your eyes meet with Sammy’s. You watch him visibly try to process what was going on in front of him, eyes wide and fists clenched.

“Sammy,” you begin, watching him step back, shaking his head in disbelief. “Sammy, wait, I…it’s not what it looks like.”

“Really?” Sammy counters, obviously knowing that it was exactly what it looked like. But he’s already on his way back out of the bedroom and you make a move to stand up but Vince grabs your arm before you have the chance.

“Give him a second to process,” Vince suggests, glancing down at the way you were clutching his blankets to your naked body. “And maybe put some real clothes on.”

Nodding you crawl out of Vince’s bed, pulling on the pyjama’s you were wearing when you showed up in his room the night before. Vince gets up a minute later, pulling on a pair of jeans a hoodie, glancing at his phone. “We are going to be late,” he mutters, his back to you as he gathers his keys and wallet, jamming them into his pockets.

“Vince, I’m scared.”

Vince turns around quickly, eyes on you. You had your arms wrapped tight around your body, eyes teary. “Hey,” Vince says gently, walking over and pulling you into a gentle hug, resting his chin on top of your head. “It’s okay, everything is going to be fine.”

“Did you see him? He looked so upset…he’s going to be mad, Vince. I can’t, I can’t handle him being mad at me.”

You didn’t even realize you were crying till Vince pulls back, reaching up and wiping away the tears from your cheeks. “He won’t be mad at you, he’ll be mad at me. I’m the one who started this.”

You’re caught off guard by this, laughing softly. “That’s a lie.”

“It’s not.”

“I kissed you on the couch,” you remind him, your hands wrapped around his forearms as you stare up into his eyes.

“I came home early and skipped going for drinks with the guys that night because Sammy told me he was going out for the night. I was hoping for what happened that night.”

You’re caught off guard by his confession, speechless and frozen in place.

Glancing over you see Sammy step into the doorway, slowly pulling away from Vince “We have to go.”

“Yeah,” Vince mutters, reaching over and grabbing your hand, squeezing it as he steps out of the bedroom with Sammy.

You watch them walk away in silence, not leaving Vince’ bedroom till you hear the front door close. Slowly making your way out of the bedroom you try to busy yourself with tidying the apartment to keep yourself thinking too much about the situation.

“Y/N,” Sammy’s voice calls later in the day, walking into the living room where you were sitting on your laptop, scrolling through apartment listings.

“Hey,” you say quietly, looking up at him. Reaching forward you slowly close your laptop, setting it down on the coffee table in front of you. “How was practice?”

“Fine,” he says, sitting down on the love seat beside the couch you were on. Sammy watches you glance in direction of the hallway. “He went to Jordan’s place.”

“Oh,” you whisper, feeling your heart sink a little.

“It wasn’t his idea,” Sammy tells you, noticing how disappointed you seemed. “I wanted to talk to you alone.”

“Oh,” you repeat, not knowing what to say. Your brother had always known the details of your relationships, telling him all about your crushes, dates, when boyfriends would upset you. This had been the first time you kept something like that a secret from him, and now you were regretting it. Perhaps if you had told him earlier, when you first started to develop feelings for Vince things would have been different. But now it seemed like you two knew there was something wrong with what you were doing, needing to keep it a secret.

The silence in the room is heavy, and it feels painful as you fidget in your seat. Sammy staring at you for a few minutes before finally saying anything. “Why?”

Staring down at the ground you try to come up with an answer to his question. “I like him,” you whisper, shrugging.

“Why him? Did you not even think about what’ll happen when things end between you two?”

“That’s really optimistic,” you mumble, eyes focused on your fingers as you pick a few pieces of lint off of your jeans.

“Well what?” Sammy asks, voice raising in frustration. “You going to marry him?”

Finally looking up at Sammy you roll your eyes, sighing loudly.

“God, now I see why mom got so mad every time you rolled your eyes,” Sammy mutters. “Why the hell are you even rolling your eyes?”

“Because I’m not even thinking about marriage…with Vince or anyone else. That’s crazy,” you reply, your voice getting louder and louder with each word.

“So you’re going to break up with him, or he’s going to break up with you and then my friendship with him is going to be fucked,” Sammy snaps. “You really didn’t consider that? That you’re ruining my friendship with Vince…and for what?”

“Stop yelling at me,” you yell back, hoping up from the couch and staring down at him, tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m sorry, Sammy. I don’t know what to say, I like him.” Sniffling you reach up, wiping away tears from underneath your eyes.

“I’m not okay with it.”

Wrapping your arms tight around your body you try to compose yourself, try to stop the tears from continuously flooding your eyes. You hated that you cried during conflict, hated that when it was conflict with Sammy that reaction was always heightened. “What do you want me to do then?”

Sammy glares up at you, shaking his head. “You already fucked it up, it’s too late for you to do anything.”

It feels like someone just punched you in the stomach, physical pain radiating through your body in response to his words. But you can’t think of a single defence for yourself. “Fuck you,” is all you manage to croak out before turning around and hurrying in the direction of the front door.

“Where are you going?” Sammy calls, following after you.

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly, yanking on a jacket you had hanging up on a hook beside the door. “Does it really matter? I mean, I’m such a fuck up anyway.”

“I didn’t say that,” Sammy exclaims, watching you pull on a pair of shoes. “Can you just stop? We’re not kids anymore, you can’t just fucking run away.”

“No, we’re not,” you snap, standing up straight again. “So why are you treating me like one?”

“Because it’s my goddamn life you’re messing with.”

“You don’t have to be such an asshole,” you whisper, tears now streaming down your face with no chance of you being able to contain them. “I’m sorry I developed feelings for your friend, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about, I’m sorry I acted on it…I’m sorry I came here, I don’t know what you want me to say.” You’re reaching for the doorknob a moment later, yanking the door open.

“Don’t say that, stop, Y/N, where the fuck are you even going to go?” Sammy asks, reaching for your arm which you pull away from him before he has the chance to grab you. “You can’t just wander around alone crying."

“Well it’s not like this apartment is feeling overly hospitable right now,” you tell him, wiping the tears off your cheeks. “I never would have thought you would be such an asshole over me falling for a guy. I’m sorry he’s your friend, I wasn’t trying to make that happen. In fact, I was trying not to. But you don’t really care, do you? Because the situation isn’t perfect for you so why should you even try to accept it?”

With that you leave the apartment. You take an Uber to one of your new friend’s houses, thankful that she had replied before your Uber even got there that she was free and wanted to hang out. After a brief explanation of what was going on you settle down on her couch, her puppy curled up in your lap as you two talk, able to get your mind off of the situation with Sammy and Vince, even if only for a short period of time.

You two order take out and lay on the couch, sending each other dumb tiktoks for the majority of the night.

‘Are you okay?’ It’s a text from Vince and you switch from the tiktok app to your messages.

‘Yeah, I’m fine. I’m at my friend’s place. You’re home now?’

“Vince texted, I think he just got home,” you tell your friend, sitting up on her couch with a sigh.

“Did he say anything about the situation?” She asks, turning her head to look over at you.

Shaking your head you look down at your screen, watching the three dots inside a text bubble, waiting to get the text he was typing. ‘Yes, when are you coming back?’

‘I don’t know. I guess soon, I just don’t know what to do.’

‘About what?’

‘Sammy’ ‘Us’

‘Can I come pick you up?’

And twenty minutes later you’re leaving your friend’s house, promising to keep her updated on the situation.

“Hey,” you greet as you get into Vince’s car, glancing over at him while pulling on your seatbelt.

“Hey.” Vince reaches over, placing his hand on your thigh, squeezing gently. “How did it go with Sammy?”

“Not great,” you admit, placing your hand on top of Vince’s, sliding your fingers between his and folding your hand over his. “Did you guys talk?”

“A bit.” Vince says, pulling out of the parking lot of the apartment. “What did he say to you?”

“That I’m messing up his life,” you mumble, your eyes filling with tears. “Basically I fucked up and whatever the fallout from this is it’s all my fault.”

Vince’s hand clenches around the steering wheel as he drives with no particular destination in mind. Of course Sammy was one of his best friends and that wasn’t about to change over one fight. But friends didn’t always agree on everything, didn’t always get along. And by the way Vince’s jaw was clenched, eyes glaring through the windshield in front of him, it was clear that was the case. “That’s such bullshit. You know that’s not true...right?”

“What if it’s not?” you croak. “Are we being selfish? Your friendship with Sammy, jeopardizing that when this ends?”

“It doesn’t have to end poorly and ruin anything,” Vince points out. “It doesn’t have to end,” he adds.

“Vince,” you whisper, glancing down at your hands folded together. How perfect they fit, how comfortable you were with him. “That’s crazy to say right now.”

“I know,” he admits, squeezing your hand. “So it might not last forever, but no matter what happens we’ve already started...whatever this is, so why does it matter when it ends?”

You can’t really argue with that point. Your options are end it now or give it time, see how things play out. “But…Sammy,” you whisper.

“Give him time.”

The two of you drive around aimlessly for a little while longer till he pulls into the parking lot of the apartment building, glancing over at you. “You okay?

Nodding you pull your hand from his, resting it on the console as you lean across it and Vince is quick to react, bringing his hand to the side of you face to cup your cheek. His lips are gentle but eager, moving with intent but not pushing too far. And for a moment it feels like everything else has faded away, worries and stress blurring till they’re no longer visible anymore. “How do we do this?” You whisper, pulling back from Vince.

“Do what?” He asks, sitting back in his seat, body angled towards you.

“Deal with being in there, together, with Sammy.”

Vince is quiet for a moment, tapping at his steering wheel. “We’ll just figure it out when we’re in there, see what he’s like.”

Nodding slowly you open the car door, slipping out and walking towards the apartment with Vince. With every step closer you feel a growing anxiety, each and every possibility running through your mind. Would Sammy still be mad? Would he try to pick up the argument right where it ended? Would it be worse if he just decided to ignore it? Would you all need to sit down and have a conversation like an awkward family meeting nobody wants to be a part of?

When you step into the apartment after Vince you hear the sound of the TV from the living room. Slowly making your way into the living room you notice Sammy with an Xbox controller in his hand, eyes trained on the TV. “Hey,” you greet, sitting down on the couch and alternating between watching the game he was playing and glancing at Sammy.

“Hey,” Sammy mutters, finishing up his game before tossing the controller down onto the coffee table and sitting up to turn and face you. “Did running away solve everything?”

Shaking your head you pull your legs up to your chest on the couch. “Should I have stayed here and let you yell at me about fucking up your life instead?”

“I didn’t say you were fucking up my life.”

“Maybe not in those exact words,” you retort. “But you may as well have.”

Sammy sighs and leans forward, his elbows on his knees, running his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he grumbles, looking over at you. “I just…fuck, I hate it so much. Like why him?” His tone is different now, lighter, easier than the last conversation.

“I mean…look at him,” you say, trying your best to to lighten the mood even more.

Sammy chuckles under his breath, shaking his head. “I guess I really should have seen it sooner,” he comments, staring down at the ground.

“What do you mean?”

Sammy looks up from the ground, eyes meeting yours. “You’re exactly his type and he’s been spending way more time just hanging around here since you got here. I’m such an idiot for not thinking this would happen. I pretty much set it up.”

You wait a few seconds in silence, processing that information. You had really just assumed Vince spent that much time at his apartment normally. You figured they were on the road a lot, when they were back in St. Louis he would just want to relax at home playing video games and watching TV. You never would have thought that you played a role In keeping him there. And you definitely wouldn’t have assumed you were exactly his type either. “So you can’t really be mad then…you said it, you set it up.”

Sammy laughs, sitting up straighter and shaking his head. “I didn’t say that either…But I’m not mad, I don’t like it…maybe that’ll change, I don’t know. But I’m not mad at you. You know I can’t stay mad at you.”

You smile softly, standing up and walking over to the couch he was on, dropping down beside him and throwing your arms around him dramatically. “Good, because I can’t handle you being mad at me,” you tell him. Pulling back you let your arms drop from around him. “So, will you come look at apartments with me tomorrow so that Vince and I can-.”

“Stop,” Sammy interrupts, pushing you away playfully. “I don’t want to hear it, you’re so gross,” he says, both of you laughing as you lean back in response to Sammy pushing you.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Vince walk into the room hesitantly and you give him a reassuring smile. “Sammy admitted he actually set us up.”

“I did not,” Sammy exclaims, laughing. “I said I pretty much did…not on purpose though.”

“Close enough…I’m going to make dinner. I don’t know how you two are going to survive when I get my own apartment,” you laugh, standing up and walking over towards Vince, grabbing his hand and pulling him with you towards the kitchen.

“You can come over and cook us dinner,” Sammy calls as you leave the living room.

Shaking your head you make it to the kitchen, only there for a second before Vince is pulling you into him, leaning down and kissing you gently. “I knew it would be okay,” Vince mumbles against your lips.

Bringing one hand to the back of his neck you press your body closer to his, confident that Sammy would be avoiding the kitchen now that you and Vince were in there alone. “No you didn’t,” you giggle. “You just said that because I was panicking.”

“Kind of,” Vince admits.

“Well I’m glad it worked out,” you whisper, sliding your hands to his shoulders. “Because if we never got around to you pinning me down like you did last night I’d be really disappointed,” you joke, looking up at Vince through your eyelashes with a mischievous smile.

Vince groans, shaking his head. “So that’s all I am to you?” Vince asks, playing along.

“Of course,” you joke. Pulling out of his grasp you begin to prepare dinner, but the absence of touch doesn’t last long, Vince stepping behind you and placing his hands on your hips. “Someone is a little needy.”

“I’m hurt after your last comment,” he laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist, watching you chop up some vegetables.

Pausing you turn your head to the side, looking up at Vince. “Fine, I like you for more than just sex,” you tell him.

“So when are you letting me take you on another date…a real one.”

“Anytime,” you tell him, glancing over at him as he stands beside you, leaning against the counter. You can’t help but get caught up in staring at him for a little too long. A few months ago you never would have imagined your trip to St. Louis would even last this long, let alone end with you moving there and falling for a boy. And of course you weren’t sure how it would end, but for the time being you were happy with the new adventure you were embarking on.

#vince dunn #vince dunn fic #vince dunn imagine #vince dunn fanfiction #vince dunn fanfic #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl one shot #st louis blues imagine #st louis blues fanfic #st louis blues fanfiction #st Louis blues one shot #hockey fanfic #hockey fic #hockey one shot #Hockey Fanfiction

564 notes · View notes

storiesforallfandoms · 4 years

Text

maybe i should ~ tommy lee;the dirt

word count: 1512

request?: yes!

“Could you do a tommy lee story based on the prompt “I’m too sober for this.” “You don’t even drink.” “Maybe I should start.””

description: in which the hate starts to get to her, and she considers ways to numb the pain

pairing: tommy lee x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol abuse

masterlist

“Look at this shit, man,” Tommy groaned as he threw a magazine onto the table in the tour bus. On the cover was a picture taken of his girlfriend at a very unflattering angle, with yet another offensive caption underneath it.

“How do they keep managing to catch (Y/N) at her worse?” Nikki questioned as he took the magazine in his hand.

“Man, I don’t get why the paparazzi keep targeting her like this,” Tommy sighed. “She’s done nothing, she’s just my girlfriend. But ever since day one they’ve dragged her name through the mud for no reason.”

“You should call her, man. See if she’s seen this one yet,” Vince told him.

“I will when we stop. God, I hope she hasn’t seen anything.”

The minute the bus parked, Tommy raced for the phone to call (Y/N). It rang for longer than usual, which made Tommy feel uneasy. He wondered if maybe the time difference meant she was at work or still in bed, but he was only in a few states over. The time differences couldn’t have been that bad, could they?

Finally, her voice answered, “Hello?”

“Hey baby!” Tommy said, trying to sound cheerful until he got a hint from her tone as to if she had seen the article. “What are you doing right now?”

“Still in bed,” she said, her voice still even. It was killing Tommy to not know, but he didn’t want to flat out ask her if she had seen the magazine in case she hadn’t.

“What time is it there? Isn’t it time for work?” Tommy tried again.

“I’m off today.”

Tommy sighed, realizing the subtle approach was going nowhere. “Are you okay, baby?”

He heard her sniffle, a tiny action that broke her heart. “No.”

“Did you see the magazine?”

“Of course I fucking saw it, Tommy! Someone put it on my fucking doorstep!”

This was new information to Tommy. He wondered how anyone knew where he and (Y/N) lived. He made a mental note to put out an announcement that a huge lawsuit and restraining order would be coming to whoever found (Y/N)’s address.

“I’m sorry they’re still doing this, (Y/N). I don’t get what their problem is, you’re literally just...existing.”

(Y/N) sighed on the other end, and Tommy could hear her holding back sobs. “You know what? I’m too sober for this.”

“Baby, you don’t even drink.”

“Maybe I should start.”

This concerned Tommy greatly. Unlike Tommy, (Y/N) wasn’t one for the partying and excessive drinking. She was very much a good girl, a perfect balance to Tommy’s rockstar ways. To know things were getting so bad that she was considering getting intoxicated to deal with it broke Tommy’s heart.

“Listen, I’m coming home tomorrow. Just...wait for me, okay baby? Don’t do anything yet.”

There was a brief pause and Tommy wondered if he had lost her. He started rooting around in his pocket for change when her soft voice spoke again.

“Okay, I won’t. Get home soon, okay?”

“I’ll try my best, baby.”

~~~~~~

The drive home seemed to last forever. Tommy couldn’t help but bob his leg anxiously the closer the bus got to them getting home. He stared out the window, intently, waiting for the familiar sights to come into view again.

The minute the bus came to a stop, Tommy grabbed his bags and threw them into the car waiting for him. He called a brief goodbye to his friends before driving off towards the house he shared with (Y/N).

He hoped that he wouldn’t be coming home to the worst. He hoped (Y/N) was sober, that she hadn’t touched a single drop of alcohol in the place. He was glad he wasn’t stupid enough to bring his cocaine home with him, there was no telling how she’d react to that.

Tommy pulled into the driveway and fumbled with his key before finally getting the door open.

“Baby? I’m home!”

There was no response. Tommy’s heart pounded in his chest as he looked around the house for his girlfriend. As he made his way to the bedroom, he began to think of things worse than just (Y/N) getting drunk.

Luckily enough, he opened the bedroom door and there she was, just laying in bed. She lazily turned her head to look at him and gave him the best fake smile she could muster. “Hey baby. You’re finally home.”

Tommy crossed the room to scoop (Y/N) up in his arms. A genuine giggle of excitement slipped from her lips as Tommy held her close, hugging her as tightly as he could without actually hurting her.

“I’m glad to see you, too, baby,” she giggled, wiggling out of Tommy’s arms to kiss the top of his head.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he told her as she got back into bed. He followed her lead, wrapping his arms around her again to hold her close to him. “I’ve been so worried since yesterday. When I got here and you didn’t come to meet me at the door...”

He trailed off, afraid to voice his biggest fear.

(Y/N) sighed and settled into his body. “I’m sorry, Tommy, I never meant to worry you. I just...I haven’t felt right all day. I couldn’t even bring myself to get out of bed when you got home, although I am happy that you’re home. I’ve missed you so much.”

Tommy gave her a slight squeeze and kissed her forehead. “I missed you, too.”

They fell into a comfortable silence for a while. Tommy absentmindedly played with (Y/N)’s hair, thinking of everything that the press kept saying about her.

He was still so angry over the magazine headline from the day before, and the news that people were starting to harass (Y/N) at their own house. He couldn’t understand what anyone’s problem with (Y/N) was. Even looking at her now - no makeup, dressed just a baggy hoodie and pajama shorts with a sad look on her face - she looked like the most beautiful woman in the world. She was so kind to everyone, even people she didn’t know. Tommy just couldn’t understand why the press liked to bash on her so much.

“They never treated Heather like this,” (Y/N) mumbled against his chest.

“What?” Tommy asked, although he knew exactly what she had said.

“I said they never treated Heather like this!” (Y/N) repeated louder this time. “God, the press loved her! The sweet little princess that had her heart broken by the big rockstar drummer.”

“You can’t possibly be comparing yourself to my ex that I cheated on,” Tommy said. “Baby, they loved her because she was a popular actress, and because she married me at the height of my fame. Once we got a divorce they forgot all about the both of us.”

“Then why can’t they just fucking forget me?!” (Y/N) exclaimed, pulling herself away from Tommy. The sudden outburst shocked him. He didn’t think he had ever heard (Y/N) raise her voice before. “Or at least just leave me alone! I’m not even fucking famous, what do they get out of this?”

Tommy took (Y/N) in his arms again and shushed her. “It’s okay, baby, please don’t let what they say get to you. They’re just vultures, all of them. You can’t let that go to your head.”

“It’s hard to not let it go to your head when it just feels like everyone hates you,” (Y/N) said, her voice breaking as she attempted to hold back tears. “I haven’t seen one nice thing be written about me in the media, and what makes it worse is that everyone I know also sees what’s been written! My co-workers are constantly making snide remarks about the things that have been written about me, and my friends and family just give me this look of pity whenever something new comes out.”

Tommy gave her another reassuring squeeze. “I’m sorry, baby.”

(Y/N) shook her head. “You shouldn’t have to be sorry. This isn’t your fault.”

“It feels like it is. I wish I could protect you more than I have, that I wasn’t the reason you’re in the spotlight.” Tommy took her face in his hands and tilted it for her to look at him. “But don’t ever believe a single bad thing the press writes about you, and don’t let what others say get to your head. You’re an absolutely beautiful woman with a heart of gold, and I love you more than I could ever describe. I’m so lucky to have you in my life, I don’t deserve someone like you.”

Tears were forming in (Y/N)’s eyes as she leaned forward to kiss Tommy. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, baby.”

She settled back into his arms, resting her head on his chest. “Don’t leave again, okay? Stay with me for a while.”

“I promise, baby, I will be.”

#Tommy Lee #tommy lee imagine #tommy lee x reader #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson baker x reader #The Dirt #the dirt imagine #imagine #netflix #request #one shot

432 notes · View notes

writingsbychlo · 3 years

Text

smoke and fire (03)

word count; 10,638

summary; you and thomas almost find some common ground, but clinging to petty hatred might ruin it all.

notes; making some progress, and I know y’all are going to love the tension building.

warnings; burnings buildings, minor burns, reference to injury, reference to explosions.

Humming along to the tune playing from your phone, it was plugged into the speaker atop the counter, the lowest volume you could get it as you tried to keep the volume down. You never had been one to sleep while at the Firehouse, no matter how late at night your shifts were, and while this was your team’s two weeks of night shift rotations, you’d adapted to it easily.

Maybe you’d been forced to. Maybe you’d force yourself to. You weren’t exactly comfortable with the team yet, and something about going to sleep surrounded by people you didn’t know felt uncomfortable to you. You trusted them with your life, your job required that you did, but you would only get restless sleep anyway.

Cooking, however, was something you were comfortable with. Cooking at night while the rest were asleep, the clock barely tickling past 5AM as they all slept until called to duty gave you free time to be with your own thoughts.

The smell of frying bacon was filling the room, lyrics falling quietly from your lips as your hips swung, and you heard the first of your colleagues begin to shuffle into the room. You turned to look over your shoulder, Minho being the first to wake, and you’d learned recently that he was always the first to wake. He was an early bird, someone who normally went for a jog before coming on his shifts, and he groaned, scratching at his stomach while the other arm stretched over his head, trying to wake himself up a little more.

“Smells like bacon. Did you make enough for two?”

“I made enough for about twenty.” You teased, hearing his sleepy laugh, and he came to hop up onto the island counter behind you, bypassing the chairs as he took a seat on the higher surface instead, and he rubbed at his eyes.

“You cooked for us?”

“I cooked for me, and figured I might as well make sure you all get a healthy breakfast in, too. Can’t have you slacking on the job because all you ate for breakfast was three candy bars and a skittle, can I?” You grabbed for a plate, a stack that you’d placed beside yourself, the first one being dished up to your friend. A couple of pancakes from the hot plates, sausages, bacon, eggs, and a pot of coffee, and you dished it up, sliding it towards a seat as he fetched a set of knives and forks for you both, groaning loudly at the sight of food.

“This looks amazing.”

He took a seat on the stool this time, poking at it all in the lower light as he chopped up his food, folding a piece of bacon inside a pancake, and lifting the bundle to his mouth. Serving yourself up and covering the rest, you leaned against the counter in front of him, beginning to chop at your food. As he chewed the mouthful longer, he tipped his head back, a louder and longer groan falling from his lips as he showed his appreciation for the meal, and you covered your snicker with your food, chewing a mouthful and shaking your head fondly.

“Who’s folding porn in here? It better not be Minho, again.”

“Again?” You almost choked on your food as Winston came wandering in, your brow raising as you turned to your colleague, and he sighed dramatically.

“They were filming a tour video for the Firehouse for a thing online, I don’t know.” He waved his hand, shoving another forkful into his mouth, and you realised the men here had never been raised to chew with their mouths closed, as though they were raised wild as teens. “Anyway, I was seeing this chick at the time, and y’know, she was hot. A bit too feisty even for me.”

“I somehow find that hard to believe.”

“Hey, there are things even I wouldn't do!” He objected, and behind you, as he helped himself to food, Winston snorted. “Yeah, not much, though.”

“Anyway, as I was saying, she comes to visit me at work. She’s got her hands all over, she was just dating me because I was a fireman. She drags me behind a truck and we were, well, making out pretty heavily. Like teenagers behind the science block. They caught it on the camera while touring, and had to cut it all out and refilm that section.” He shrugged, like it was no big deal, and Winston took a seat beside him, your eyes fixed on your coworkers, brows raising.

“It was more than just making out. She had her legs around your waist.”

“She did not!” Minho scoffed, crumbs of the food flying everywhere, and you couldn’t contain the laugh as he turned to punch his friend in the arm, the two setting off in a weak match of slaps and punches as they tried to keep eating.

Brenda was next through the door, already seeming to look composed and poised like she’d had hours to get ready, all but gliding through the room, and she flickered her eyes over the two tussling boys. “What’s going on in here?”

“Winston was just telling me about the time Minho got caught on camera kissing a chick behind the trucks.”

“Oh, you mean the girl with her legs around his waist?” Brenda was then immediately drawn into the argument, hissed whisper-shouts as you tried to contain your laughter, and as the hours ticked on from the discussion, your plate slipped into the dishwasher, a fresh pot of coffee being started, more and more of the team began to join the room. The next was Gally. His nose turned up at the offer of coffee, Brenda mocking him for his selective taste in teas, trying to copy his accent too, but he did help himself to a plate of food. Clint and Jeff were next, the two practically attached at the hip, moving as a unit, always one with the other. They were talking among themselves as they got their breakfasts, but took enough time free to offer their greetings to everyone, mumbling a vague ‘thank you’ to ‘whoever had cooked’, before they were sitting at the table and becoming invested in their conversation once again.

Newt came in next, bright and cheery and full of energy, as he had been for the last three days since getting the boot taken off his foot and being able to rotate his ankle and walk normally again, limp barely present now he was like a bright ray of sunshine, rising with the actual sunrise. Fry and Zart followed, passing through as the sun in the room rose, the music being drowned out by the loud chatter in the room, the clattering of cutlery and utensils, with the vague noise of the morning news being turned on for a weather update.

Taking your phone back from where it was placed on the stand, you lifted it up, barely any of the food you’d made remaining, and you felt an overwhelming sense of accomplishment at providing for your team, and never having a single complaint. It wasn’t often that you made this kind of gestures, it wasn’t often worth it, not when you were so used to take your meals and finding a quiet spot to eat alone, but more and more, you’d been finding yourself enjoying the company of the people around you, progressively feeling more included in the conversations and activities as the ripples across the water caused by your arrival began to settle.

Chuck was a late riser, still looking completely dazed as he stepped into the room, a little wobble in his step, and you took the liberty of creating a plate for him, and a large mug of coffee, taking it over to where he had slumped down at the dining table with his head rested on his hands, eyes already closing. Creeping up behind your friend, you leaned down, light snores leaving him as he began to doze off again, despite being surrounded by stimulation, noise and light.

“Boo!”

He jerked violently, almost knocking the food and mug out of your hand as he sat up, looking shocked for just a moment, before red-twinged cheeks were facing your directions, narrowed eyes in a glare, and a scowl on his face. “You suck.”

“I brought you food and coffee.”

He considered it for a moment, eyes sweeping over the plate, before sitting up a little straighter. “Okay, you suck slightly less now.”

He accepted the offerings, digging in almost instantaneously, and you took a seat beside him, sipping the hot drink in your own hands as you absorbed the environment. Making friends was hard when you skipped about so much, even making friends outside of work, as you moved from one side of the city of the other to new houses, never bothering to decorate or properly unpack because you weren’t sure how long you’d ever be in one location.

It was undeniably nice to be surrounded for once, and not be immediately looking for the next exit.

Chuck was happy to just talk, filling the space between you both as he spoke about everything he could think of. He told you about his mother, and his four older sisters, the second of whom was getting married, and the first of whom was halfway through her pregnancy, and how excited he was to become an uncle. He asked you about your bruises, and how the swelling was doing, making you demonstrate the rotations of your arm for him as the muscles no longer ached as you could lift them over your head, some discoloured splotching where the bruises were almost healed was all that was left.

As the clock ticked over, just past 8AM, the room was full. Even Vince having passed through and joined you all for a cup of coffee and a reasonably quick chat, giving into the teasing he was getting from Newt and Brenda about an update on the doctor he’d been seeing, her name revealed as Mary now things were getting serious, and you hoped to meet her one day at the hospital.

It was clear to you that the people here were a family, and despite the friction between you and some of the members, certain ones sticking strong with their guards up against you as they followed in their Lieutenant’s footsteps, you were winning some of them over. Newt had yet to bring it back up, the challenge that he’d issued you of giving it a year, and promising that this house would be different, but you knew he hadn't forgotten the conversations, because every so often, you’d catch his gaze lingering on you when you were chatting to another colleague, and reaching out a little more.

Chiming about your head signalled a call coming in, the room falling from commotion and filled with activity to dead and silent as everyone listened, and the second it was over, all of the chairs were scraping, pots and cutlery clammering as plates were stacked up haphazardly, and the room was cleared in seconds. Only you and Newt remained, being given a free minute, maybe two at the maximum, as you waited for the foremen to grab their equipment and swap out shoes for protective boots, gear in hand as they loaded the trucks.

“I’m going to go and check on Tommy, make sure he’s up.”

You nodded, realising now why the atmosphere around you was so peaceful. There was no walking on eggshells or lingering glares, nothing that might put you off about saying the wrong thing in fear of getting yelled out, or burning gals into the back of your skull, but simply the calm and quiet of being surrounded by people who were at least civil with you, instead of hating your guts.

Grabbing the trays that were barely even warm now, the food having cooled a while ago, you stacked up what was on a single plate, covering it with a quick wrap of foil, and watching as Thomas stumbled on past in a flurry of movement that made you think he might trip, grabbing his boots from the floor and his coat and helmet form the rack, not even bothering to change them before getting onto the squad truck waiting, and watching as it disappeared.

Tucking the reserved plate into the fridge, everything else was left out to be sorted later, and you grabbed the keys from the rack, meeting Newt in the doorway, the two of you jogging side by side to the vehicle. Since the period of time when you’d been driving instead of him while his boot was on, he seemed to have gained a little more trust in you, allowing you to drive the vehicle instead, every so often, despite how precious the rig maybe to him.

Doors slamming shut on either side, and as soon as the engine was on, Newt flipped on the emergency sirens, letting you strap yourself in beside him as you began to pull out of the courtyard, chasing after the red trucks ahead of you both in a rapid pursuit to your destination.

Early morning traffic cleared, the palm of your hand continually pressing down on the horn as people tried to pull back across lanes in the road as soon as the firetrucks had cleared, never having the patience to wait for the ambulances to go through to, but you battled to keep up with them, the smaller vehicle making it easier to navigate and weave through the other cars.

Smoke was already curling up into the air as you arrived, thick and dark, worrying bursts of it, and the stench of gas was filling the car as soon as you arrived on the street, pulling up to the sidewalk and throwing the van into park.

Hopping out of the vehicle, you let out a long breath, trying not to cringe at the smell on the air or the taste it was leaving in your mouth, your stomach twisting a little. You shared a look with Newt, looking around at the situation as you tried to assess it all, feet carrying you closer to the group of firefighters who were coming up with a game plan for the situation at hand. Thomas was already barking orders, hair messy from scratching at it and running his hands through with stress, a look you’d seen several of the men get when things shit the fire, pun intended, and you came to a halt.

Crossing your arms over your chest, Thomas’ eyes flicked to you and Thomas, words pausing in his mouth, snapping shut as he tried to reevaluate the plan. sniffling at the air, he groaned a little, skating his head.

“Alright, Minho’s on shutting these gas lines. Go and find an override until we can get this fixed. Take Chuck with you.” The official firefighter nodded, the unofficial firefighter perking up a little at the task, and pulling on their masks, the two of them set off. “Can I get paramedics setting up a stretcher straight away, we got reports that there’s a family inside, the house that started the fire. Mother was cooking when the main exploded, and it shot right through to her stove.”

You had your instructions, the two of you heading in a quick jog back to the van, because no matter what everyone else did, you had your instructions. The back of the van was opened, and you worked on unfastening the stretcher wheels as Newt prepped the van, a medkit laid out on the shelves and the ramp down. There were already people beginning to inch their way, undoubtedly complaining of headaches and nausea due to the exposure.

There was a breeze along the road, warm and reasonably calm, nothing intense enough to whip up smoke and dust into your eyes, and it was good at clearing away the lingering cloud of gas on the street, but it wasn’t so good for the firefighters. You couldn't help the way that your eye swerve flickering over to the house every so often, bright and roaring as you felt the heat all the way from here, warm cheeks under the burning glare, and you worried the flames would spread.

They were only raising higher, the entire downstairs of the house had taken alight, and Thomas and his team were still trying to work out how to get inside of the house without endangering themselves, and how to get the family out. Brenda was on hoses, dragging the reel down the street to the closest fire hydrant as fast as she possibly could, trying to screen the nozzle into place.

It was easy enough to access people, giving them each a small mask and an oxygen tank, sitting them down on the opposite curb of the sidewalk, and making sure to run along and check on their symptoms again every five minutes. The roads had been closed off on either side, barricaded by police cars and trucks, and Minho and Chuck were returning, helping Brenda with the hose as they went. The first member of the family was being brought out, a young girl being carried by who you assumed to be Gally, purely based on the height of hi as he came running over, the little girl in his arms out cold as she hung limply in his grip, and he rushed to lay her down against the bed.

“Newt, can I get a monitor?”

He yelled his reply, words not making much sense as he fumbled in the back of the van, grabbing at the monitor as best he could, and you began your initial assessment of her. Your suspicions were confirmed as the helmet and mask form the firefighter before you were removed, Gally staring down at you, wide eyes as your hands scanned along her. Tipping her head back, you opened her mouth, checking her throat hadn't become blocked, before using the small flashlight on your keychain to check the reaction in her pupils.

“She’s got some rapid ration to light in her pupils, no brain damage, smoke and gas inhalation isn’t too bad.” He let out a sigh of relief, lips flicking up at the sides as you confirmed her safety to him. Pressing gently along her lungs, you found no broken bones or ribs, making sure to keep her head a little tipped back so her airways were open as best they could be, and Newt rounded the table to the other side Bumping Gally out of the way slightly, the taller boy stepped back, waiting anxiously for more confirmation. It was sweet, his concern for the younger ones, and you’d noticed it over the last month and a half, watching him interact with children was always special. “You got a sister, Gally?”

“How’d you know?”

“Call it a lucky guess.” You teased, watching Newt beginning to cut away the sleeve of her shirt to hook up a child-sized heart monitor band onto her arm. Gally seemed just as panicked, and you’d be willing to bet money on his little sister being young, probably around this girl’s age, and seeing his own family in the victims. “Tell me about her? I bet she’s really cute.”

“She is, actually. She’s going through a unicorn phase, has been ever since turning seven.”

Bingo.

“She likes glitter too, and if you ask her what her favourite colour is, she’ll probably say rainbow. My parents have this neighbour, who is a couple years older than her, but they still hang out. The neighbour just got her first eyeshadow kit, you know, those ones they give away as free gifts with kids magazines and stuff? All the latest gossip on Selena Gomez or High School Musical, or whatever?”

You laughed a little bit, stepping away into the truck long enough to find another of the pre-prepared rows of oxygen tanks made up, and bringing it back with a small mask. Putting the band over her head, a soft beeping took up around you both as Newt confirmed that he couldn't find any further injuries on the girl, her stomach feeling soft and so there wasn’t much likelihood of any internal injuries, she was just unconscious. “Hey, don’t knock those magazines! That’s where I got my first lip gloss from!”

“She’s too young for makeup!” He huffed, the overprotective brother in him shining through to the foreground as he spoke. “So, uh, this little one. She’s going to be okay?”

“Of course, she is. Newt and I are a great team!” You beamed, Newt cheering from a few metres away where he’d wandered off to go and check on the other patients, check they were all still doing okay, no further symptoms arising. Turning the box with the heartbeat to him, his eyes closed in on it, looking as confused as ever. “There’s a lot of symbols and crap that looks confusing, I know, but just listen. Steady heartbeat, nice and strong.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, it is.” Pointing to a collection of numbers, the meaning of which was like reciting the alphabet to you but you didn’t have time to explain it to Gally right now. “See these numbers, that means her heart is staying at that strength too, she’s not fluctuating or dipping, she’s doing just fine. She’s got a mask on, and other than a killer headache when she wakes up, she’s going to be just peachy.”

“Thank you.” He finally let his shoulder’s slump, looking back towards the house, and pulling his mask back on, a nod shared between you both as his helmet followed, and with that brief break to check on the young girl he’d saved, he was returning to guide his team.

The flames in the wind were getting awfully close to the other house, despite the teams trying to put out the flames, but there were only two hoses, and they had to focus on getting the downstairs of the current house controlled first. Now that the gas was out, the flames were beginning to be tamed, no longer having an accelerant to burn on, only the fuel of the house, but it didn’t make the charred black marks along the outside of the house any less concerning.

The second patient you were receiving was the father, coughing and spluttering, conscious but in a worse state than his daughter, though he looked like he didn’t care about any of it as his eyes locked onto the little girl, and he tried to put more weight on his own two feet and less on the member of your team who was holding him up.

You didn't get to see who this was, because he was dashing away from the second that the man was showing signs of being able to support his own body, right back into the flames to become a hero once again. You rushed forward as he stumbled, hands grabbing onto him to try and keep him held up, and you walked him backwards slowly as he wheezed, sitting him down on the edge of the truck, his eye moving over to his little girl.

“My girl-”

“-is going to be just fine, sir, don’t you worry. I’ve already checked her out, and she’s doing great. She’s strong, a little fighter!” You offered him a smile, one that he weakly returned, his shoulder’s slumping as he coughed violently. “Can you tell me your name?”

“John.” He wheezed, and you nodded, grabbing a fresh set of forms from the truck and placing them down beside him. Checking his airways and his vision, you deemed him okay, asking him about his pain levels, while preparing a new mask for him, and hooking it all up, twisting the oxygen on and hearing the canister let out a little hiss as it was activated.

“Can you tell me your last name?”

“Davidson.” He muttered, accepting the mask happily from you as you held it out to him, lifting it over his head, and he was covered in soot, ash still lingering in the hair around his head, a light burn on the patches of clear skin on the top, his head ducking as you began to check them over.

“Well, Mr Davidson, I’d say you’re looking rare, maybe medium-rare, but you’ll be just fine.” His eyes creased a little at the sides, a muffled laugh from behind the mask as he tried to take deep and steadying breaths, nodding his head. “You think you can start filling out those forms for me? Get one filled out for every member of your family, and it’ll save you so much time at the hospital, and it’d really do me a solid.”

He held slightly shaking hands out to you, a collection of them all pinned on the board, beginning to write his name slowly, both of your attentions looking up at the sound of snapping wood. The porch had collapsed, the smoke in the doorway clearing a little, but just because the lower flames were beginning to give way, the upper was still burning bright, only catching more heat, and you nibbled on your lower lip.

“Everyone is alright, neighbours are doing a headcount among themselves, but there’s an elderly chap, mid-seventies, name of ‘Mr O’Hare’ seeming to be missing.”

The sound of a pain clattering onto the metal of the ambulance floor before rolling away and hitting the concrete made you jump, both of you turning with raised brows to look at the man behind you, Crouching down to get the pen again, you handed it back to him, and he raised a weak hand to pull at his mask, concern and imminent fear on his face again. “That’s our neighbour.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Mr O’Hare, that’s our neighbour. He hasn’t been doing so well, lately, my wife brings him groceries every week, his family comes to visit. He sleeps a lot, he gave us a key to get in to put the groceries away.” A wash of panic set over both you and Newt, your eyes flicking back up to the house you’d been concerned about, the black marks of charring on the walls beginning to grow as the flames curled over, and as you squinted a little, you found the edges of the rood were already beginning to powder to ash, sizzling orange as the risked igniting.

You grabbed ahold of Newt’s arm, encouraging the man in your care to go back to the sheets he should be focusing on, trying to keep him calm. “Nobody has been in that house yet, Newt. That house is full of gas, the doors and windows are closed. It’s a time bomb waiting to go off.”

“You’d better go and find a fireman, because here comes the wife, and I’m going to need to go to the hospital as soon as she’s checked out.” You only nodded your head, grabbing for your medkit, swinging the bags up onto your shoulders and setting off. The first you came across was Chuck, standing outside of the building at the back of the house, making sure no wires were becoming trapped, and just as you were about to try and get his attention, a blur of movement in your peripherals brought you to a stop.

A concerned neighbour, no idea what was about to happen but you felt like you were watching it in slow-motion as the young man made his way up toward the door, kicking at it roughly as he did, the lock popping as he tried to venture inside for his neighbour. A split second, he’d barely gotten through the doorway, before the loud explosion of a houseful of gas igniting in an instant made your eyes ring, as though your eardrums had shattered. The blast sent you down to the floor, smoke, splintered wood, shards of glass, all flying around you at the sudden implications.

You could hear muffled screaming around you, your fingers digging into the dirt beneath you as you scraped your hands back to your body, and pushed yourself up. Cuts along your skin, nothing you couldn't take care of, simply the light pieces of glass that had flown past, leaving a message in their wake, a warning not to play with anything sharp. Large hands locked onto your body, pulling you to your feet, and you blinked away the stunned feeling you had, watching as the mask was lifted.

Shaking your head little, it all suddenly came back into focus, piercing sounds, the yelling of worried neighbours, and the closer yelling of the man in front of you. Gally. “(Y/L/N), are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah. I’m good, I’m fine. A few bumps and scratches, nothing serious.” He nodded his head, eyes sweeping over you regardless, and you pushed messy hair back out of your face. “There’s someone in that building, though. I was going to suggest going through the door after leaking the gas out slowly, but it’s a bit late for that now.”

You looked around, a cord forming around the man who’d been blasted back, and it wasn’t looking good.

“We’re going to need another ambulance. Call med, get one here.”

He nodded, his head, stepping away from you for a second to bring his radio to his mouth, and your hand snagged onto Chuck’s arm, shaking him a little as he stared in abject horror at the scene before him, his age really showing on his face now. Orange flickered over his features, the presence of freckles on your friend’s face distracted by hair that almost looked red in front of flames, and you shouted his name to catch his attention, wide eyes snapping to you.

“Where’s your team?” He raised a hand, pointing to the smoke of the building, and you nodded your head. He was rattled, and you shook him a little, hands on the lapels of his fireproof jacket for leverage. “Hey, Chuck, listen up. This is no time to freeze, alright? You’re a firefighter, now get someone who can spare a hand on the radio, because there’s someone else who needs saving.”

He swallowed thickly, nodding his head, and bringing the device up, button on the side pressed to talk into, and it crackled for a minute as he put the message out there, waiting for someone to reply. Grabbing his arm, you dragged him along behind you, letting him stand behind you as you shouldered through to find the groaning man on the floor, skin raw and burned, grit stuck to him from where he’d rolled along the floor in the blow back, and you hissed a little, kneeling down.

Dropping your bag and snapping on a fresh pair of gloves, Chuck sent out another call for help, and you rolled the man onto his back carefully. There wasn’t much you could do for him here, except get him on a mask and disinfect his wounds, but it wasn't going to be a pleasant process. A canister of disinfectant was your best bet for covering raw areas this large, and you pulled it out, shaking it aw you went.

“Chuck, what’s wrong?”

You bit your tongue from groaning at who replied, glancing over your shoulder for a second, the nervous boy’s eyes meeting yours, and you gave him a nod, staying focused on your task at hand and waiting for Chuck to speak instead. “We’ve got a situation, Lieutenant. That building that just went up, (Y/N) says there’s someone trapped inside, upstairs, I think.”

“Fuck. Not exactly getting in through the bottom floor, are we?” There was a series of rattles, scuffling as you assumed them to be checking over the rooms, and you swallowed thickly, hearing the wailing sirens of another ambulance beginning to get close enough to you. The conversation around you fell away, letting Chuck and Thomas hash out a plan, before you were looking back to the man on the floor, his eyes wide and on yours, shaking with pain as he still tried to stay strong.

“Hey, that was real brave of you there. Trying to save your neighbour, huh?”

“I just wanted to help.” He mumbled, words broken and light as he tried not to cry them out, his voice strained, and you nodded your head.

“Yeah, and it was admirable. One of the bravest things I’ve ever seen, and I work with firefighters! I’m going to get you patched up, alright?” He nodded his head, gritting his teeth as you warned him that it was going to hurt, before spraying the cleaner over his skin, and a shrieking scream left his lips. It was blood-curdling, and you’d never get used to the way your stomach clenched or your teeth ground together when you knew you were causing someone that pain, even if you were trying to help. It would cool, a foam setting over his skin as it dissolved softly, and the pain faded away as the paste helped start to remove trapped heat from his skin, soothing burns and making him slump back a little. “You hear those sirens, real close now. They’re for you.”

He only nodded, before a hand was finding your shoulder, and Chuck was pulling you back a little, much to your confusion.

“What is it, Chuck? I need to get him loaded onto an ambo’.”

“No, you need to come with me.” Your brows furrowed, his hands finding your wrist, and as the ambulance pulled up, you caught sight of another paramedic, one you’d seen around the halls at the hospital, flagging them down to where the man was as they grabbed a board and set off toward him. “Lieutenant has a plan, best we got.”

“Alright, what is it?”

He stopped you before the truck, opening up one of the storage doors on the side, eyes scanning over you for a second, before he was beginning to pull out equipment. “We’re going to extend a ladder from one window to the other, crawl across, and get him. Then, come back across the ladder.”

“That’s a twenty-foot drop, you’d break bones if you fall, maybe even your neck, and the older man in that house won’t be able to balance.”

“He’s going to have to.” Chuck placed a helmet onto your head, wrapping a jacket around your arms, and you barely caught the mask he was pressing into your hands. “You’re going to have to as well, because he’s going to need a medical check.”

“A medical check? The man won’t even be conscious with the amount of gas built up in there!”

“Good thing you’re coming then. Do your job well, save his life.” The static-covered voice over the radio called out, and you glared at the device, jaw clenching at the insinuation that you ever did anything less than your best. Gally and Winston were unloading a manual ladder from the truck, setting off into the house with it, and you gulped as you felt your friend's hands move along the front of the jacket to fasten it up. Pants came next, a large pair of baggy and protective pants, stepping into them as he held them out to you, as fear filled your body at the idea of having to crawl from one burning building and into another. “Hurry up and get her kitted, Chuck, we don’t have all day! Floors getting weaker up here by the second.”

He followed with boots, a little too big for your feet but they would do, your sneakers left discarded on the floor beside you as he laced them up, and you forced yourself to be strong, just like everybody else had been today. Leaning down to take the radio and make sure it was on for you to speak into, you found yourself rearing into action. “I’m going to get a neck brace from our ambo’ and a blackboard, our best bet is to just slide him across it while he’s unconscious, like a conveyor belt, fastest way.”

“I’ll get you two men and we’ll call in for a third ambo’ to collect him.” Thomas confirmed, and you tried to get used to walking in the heavy material, feeling like your body was being weighed down by all the gear. Newt was just getting himself ready to leave for the hospital, closing up the back of the ambulance, and his eyes scanned over you before a cheeky grin was taking place.

“Wow, look at you. Hot date?”

“Yeah, real hot.” You muttered, jabbing a finger over your shoulder. “I need the backboard and the neck brace, I’ll meet you back at the station, alright?”

He only nodded his head, hanging both pieces of equipment to you and sealing up the van, but before you’d managed to catch sight of the smile that John had sent you, his wife petting their daughter’s hair as they were confirmed to all be alright.

Chuck checked your mask, turned on your tank, and a rush of pure air filled your lungs as you took a breath, before the helmet was being placed over your head, and you already felt like you were burning up from the inside out. You’d dashed into a burning building before, hopped up on adrenaline and desperation, but this somehow felt different.

Like an out of body experience as you felt the wooden flooring chip under your feet, crunching as it burned away to ash, the actors half-fallen apart, and Chuck guided you upstairs slowly the bottom of the house utterly destroyed. Brenda met you at the top, her hands held out for you to take, her fingers wrapping around your forearms as you reciprocated, and she eased you the rest of the way up.

Minho was next, visible through his mask as you got closer, and he nodded his head to you, hands holding firmly onto the hose as he tried to get control over the building once again. It felt odd, like you were walking in one of those simulation arcade attractions or playing a video game, every movement you made never feeling like your own through the layers of equipment.

The ladder was already set up, balancing precariously from one window ledge to the other.

The one opposite you seemed much more secure, not yet tarnished by flames, whereas this one was uneven, the end being held down by Gally, and all the men in the room stood a little teller, springing to action as you reserved. “About time.”

“I was doing my best.” You sneered, brown eyes rolling a little at you through the cover of the glass. Gally took the board from you, tying a piece of rope to each end of it, and checking the length, and you wandered over to the window ledge, looking out and peering down at the grass below.

“I’m going to go over fist, and secure it at the other end for you, then you come over. We get him on the board, send him back. Gally and Chuck will take him out to the ambo’. You’ll go across next, Minho will hold the ladder for you, and I’ll come last, you got it?”

You could only nod your head, feeling like the information was going in one ear and out of the other, and your head spun a little as you watched Thomas climb up and out of the window, crawling his way across the divide in a fast shuffle, no hesitation present, jumping right into the action.

He pried the window open, a precarious balancing act that made your breath hitch in your throat as the ladder-bridge wobbled, before he was slipping inside. Turning back and waving his hands out, Gally sent the board across, a piece of string pulled tighter, and now, you understood what the string had been for, the length reaching all the way from one house to the other, even when the board was taken inside and laid on the floor.

You were next, hands placed on the edge of the window, and jumping back a little as still fighting flames from the lower floors roared up at you. Your back pressed to Gally’s chest, and he placed a shoulder on your upper arm, the tank between you both that had collided with his chest making him huff, but he squeezed reassuringly and pushed your forward again.

“Any time today would be great, (Y/L/N).”

“I’m fucking scared, okay? Give me a damn minute, this isn’t what I do, I don’t go into the fires!” You yelled, hands forming fists as you tried to contain yourself, and Thomas didn’t say anything else after that. You climbed up, one knee pressed to metal that was already beginning to get warm, you could feel it through the protective pants you wore, and your hands sealed around the edges. Bringing the other own up, you found yourself kneeling over a twenty-foot drop directly into a fire from two windowsills, one of which was crumbling. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck..”

“You’re doing great, alright?”

His voice was much softer this time, your head snapping up, and while one hand was still holding onto the ladder, the other was reaching out, pointing a little ahead of one of your hands.

“One rung at a time, alright? You can do this, c’mon. This man needs your help.”

The brace you had clipped to your back swung a little, your body moving as your instinct to catch it kicked in, and the ladder rocked, a small shriek leaving your lips. The encouragement he gave you was a nice alternative to the constant feuding, but it was more the other words he’d said that gave you the confidence to go on. Someone’s life was in your hands, and you’d be damned if you took so long being scared that he died before you could help him. Picking up motion, you did as he said, one rung at a time as you moved out toward the middle of the ladder.

“That’s it, nice work.” He nodded, pointing at other spots to put your hands, before lifting his own, offering a thickly gloved hand to you, and you hesitated for only a moment, pausing, before reaching out to take it, and he gripped onto you tightly. “See? I got you, you’re fine.”

He tugged you closer, inching you the rest of the way forwards, and helping you down from the window at the other side, until you were balancing on your feet again. This room wasn’t yet on fire, but smoke was filling it, beginning to seep between the floorboards as an ominous and foreboding orange glow was present, the floor burning away beneath your very feet.

As told, there he was, the old man on his bed, looking as peaceful as though he were sleeping, and you made your way over to him. Smoothing along his body, you tried lifting one of his eyelids, barely being able to get a soft grip through the gloves, and struggling to hold down the tip of your keychain flashlight.

“I can’t do a damn thing with these stupid gloves on!”

“Don’t you da-” You didn’t care, stripping them off and pushing them into his hands as you hissed, not having realised just how much these clothes were shielding you from, the heat in the room almost unbearable on your flesh as your skin tingled. Checking his eyes and his pulse, you found movement of his pupils, slower than ideal but still there, and a low but prominent pulse under his skin.

“He’s okay, we’re all good here.” Thomas only nodded his head, handing the gloves back to you urgently, and moving to unclip the neck support from your pack as you worked. Sealing the plastic contraption around his neck to keep his head secure, you rolled him onto his side, the board coming next, rope beginning to pull tighter as you tried to cross the room to reach him, before finally getting him situated.

Strapped down and sealed on tight, you helped Thomas begin to place him delicately on the ladder, and once again fear was taking you over completely. There were flashing cameras, a group of people far bigger than it had been when you were on the street, and a final ambulance ready to offer assistance.

“That’s a lot of people.” You mumbled, feeling a hand on your shoulder as Thomas pulled you back and away from the window.

“Then don’t look.” He tossed you a glance, before helping Gally begin to inch the man across the bridge, rope always pulled tight to keep him secure, and it felt like lifetimes passed as you watched him go, inch by inch, until Chuck was taking a hold of the top half, pulling it further inside until Gally could take the other, and just like that, the man was safe.

Minho took their place, the man on the stretcher disappearing into the smoke with both of the taller firefighters as Thomas was stuck with you, and you shook yourself out, trying to rid yourself of tension and patting yourself down to check everything was okay.

“Don’t pay any attention to them, okay?” Hands found your arms, turning you to look at him, looking up through the glass to find his eyes. “They’re a distraction, just focus on my voice, and Minho’s voice, that’s it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? You ready?”

You weren’t sure you’d ever really be ready to crawl over a pit of fire on an unstable bridge between two burning buildings, but you nodded anyway, and climbed up onto the frame. One inch at a time, you made your way across, whimpering a little under your breath with every shake and jolt it made as the windowsill finally started to collapse. You wanted to be fast but cautious, keeping it steady without freezing up, and there was a point in the middle where the hands Thomas had placed on your hips to keep you steady slipped away, but you were not yet in reach of Minho, and you were completely on your own.

Two feet, and then you’d be able to reach Minho, to let him pull you inside and back to reasonable safety, and you were pretty sure that after this, you were never going to be offering to go into a burning building again. One foot, and Minho was lifting his hands up to you, the gentle but firm mumblings to hurry up echoing from Thomas, and then a hand wrapped around yours, giving you the confidence and security to speed up.

When your feet finally touched the ground once again, you were letting out a happy sigh, a kind of high racing through your system at the relief of being safe once again making you feel like you could float in clouds. You turned back, watching Thomas adjust his gloves, the flames in the room behind him beginning to grow as the floorboards started to give way at the cracks, and Minho was holding the ladder secure, but the flames were growing higher, and the charred wood was beginning to give way.

“Lieutenant, you need to speed up, this window is going to give way soon.”

“My glove won’t tie.” He muttered, trying the toggle again, but the plastic clip seemed to have snapped, and as he tried to fasten it again, the creaking of the wood made his head snap up. Surveying the scene, the ladder was already sitting at a slightly uneven angle now, and you swallowed thickly at the sight, now wishing you’d had the bravery to move a little faster. “Right, well, guess we’re going as it is.”

Climbing his way up onto the bars, his body was tilted, slumping a little towards the flames as the team below moved the hose, trying to spray the flames enough to keep them down, but without creating smoke that would blind him. Stepping back, you crossed your arms over your chest, anxiety taking over, and you brought a thumb up to your mouth to chew on the nail from habit. Your thumb hit against the glass of your mask, a low curse on your lips as a single strike of pain moved along your arm.

Thomas was only halfway across, before the ladder was shaking again, a chunk of burned wood falling away as the ladder shuddered and fell, falling onto its side a little further, and Thomas had only stuck to the rung by hooking each foot into the rungs, body leaning into the flames a little more. The sirens, the ambulance pulling away and the shouts of those outside, the burning of flames, creaking of wood, spraying of water, all fell away. It was terrifying, to think that if you had just moved a little fast he could be back by now, if you’d made it to the door to leak the gas faster, or notice the neighbour a little sooner that nobody would have been on a ladder at all.

“Thomas, hurry up!”

“Yeah, thanks for that, I was thinking I’d take it even slower!” He huffed into the comm, and you weren’t sure where your own words had come from, but the desperation and fear of losing a team member had you on edge.

The window was giving easy, the closer he got and the more weight was on that spot, the more it began to crumble, and you saw it give way before it registered, Minho’s hands leaving the handles of the ladder to grab for Thomas, and you heard the grunt he let out as the side of his body collided with the building.

The ladder clattered to the ground outside, and just like that, plumes of smoke were rising as the flames were finally put out, black clouds rising up and blocking your view of the other house as an acrid smell filled the air. Minho had one hand, pulling him, up, and the other latched onto the windowsill, scrabbling. His wrist was exposed, a raw gap between the sleeve and the glove that wouldn't fasten, and you managed to find action on shaky legs, stepping forwards and wrapping your hands around his wrists, helping to pull him up and through the window, protecting the exposed patch.

He rolled over the floor, a loud banging as he collapsed down onto it, splayed out across the floor and relieved. One hand lay across his chest, and your legs felt weak and wobbly from the exertion and adrenaline of the day, and you leaned on the wall for support. Minho patted at your shoulder, a weak laugh on his lips, and the floorboards and you creaked with the weight of Thomas shifting, before you could sense eyes on you, cracking them open to see him standing before you.

“Go, c’mon. This house is still dangerous, you need to get out.”

You nodded, body trembling a little as you tried to control it, following in his steps as he led the way, thick smoke and glowing ass as the house was destroyed, melted plastic and synthetics, like some kind of horror scene, and you supposed that, in a way, it was. When your feet finally found the grass again, you stripped your helmet off from your head, mask following, a gasping breath as you felt the cool breeze sweeping over your skin, and you felt practically layered in sweat. Making your way back to where your pack and your shoes were still laying by one of the firetrucks, you leaned against it, sinking down to the floor as you finally let the tension go.

Your elbows propped up on bent knees, holding up your head as it fell forwards, and you let out a shaky breath, finding that you weren’t a fan of the fire scene. It wasn’t what you were used to, last-minute decisions in burning houses weren’t your forte. You were good with medicine, and you knew how to save lives, that was your skill. Burning buildings and heights over a sinister drop to your death, not so much.

A scuffing sounded beside you, and you looked up, frowning at Thomas as he let his jacket fall down his arms, the red and burned flesh of his wrists shown to you more obviously. He placed it back inside, before turning to you, hand held out to take your helmet and mask from you, silently as he put them back in the correct places within the van. Next up was your jacket, and you stretched your legs out before yourself to lean forwards and strip it off, handing it up to him, and shivering and the sudden cold that took you over as you were down the layer you’d grown accustomed to.

Leaning forwards to undo the boots, you pulled one foot forward, beginning to struggle with the laces that Chuck had down for you, unbelievably tight, and huffing as you finally got it untangled. “You did good in there.”

You paused from where you were loosening the laces down, turning to look up at him, and he wasn’t paying any attention to you, but he did catch your eye for a split second. “Thank you. I hated every second of it.”

His lips flicked up at the sides, and he nodded his head, moving to take a seat in front of you, and pulling your other foot to sit before him on the concrete and beginning to undo the knots. “I can tell, but you pulled through as a part of the team, it was good work.”

“I think this is the longest you’ve ever been nice to me.”

“I’m not being nice, I’m simply giving you feedback. If I wanted to be nice to you, I would be.” He muttered, pulling both boots from your feet and standing back up, leaving you to wince as your heels hit the ground, a shock running up the nerves along your legs. “Hurry up and get yourself up, Brenda is already rolling up the hose, we’re going to leave soon. You’ll have to get a lift back with us.”

“Sure thing, Lieutenant.” Your eyes rolled, standing up to push the baggy pants down your legs, leaving you once again in your paramedic trousers, and kicking them off at your ankles, leaving them in a pile at his feet, a sickly sweet smile on your lips as you bent to collect your bag and your shoes. “I’ll get a lift with Truck.”

You gave him a small salute, walking right past him as his stare flickered between you and the pile of clothing, a growl on his lips, but you were already walking away from him. Gally was more than happy to offer you a lift, holding open the back of the truck, and settled down into the leather seats, the smell of sweat and burn lingering in the cabin. Tying up one shoe, you switched feet, sorting the other out, before slumping into the chair.

Fry was the first back, up into the front seat as he restarted the vehicle, the engine under your feet chugging to life, and as the humming of the engine started up, the pounding behind your eyes becoming apparent, rubbing at your eyes as they closed. Winston was next, sliding into the seats opposite you, Clint following, and you slumped out as they began to discuss the day.

It had been exhausting, everything in you was screaming out for sleep, and with only a few hours left of your shift, you knew you would be collapsing into sleep from the moment you got home tonight. The day had been taxing both mentally, physically and emotionally, and as Chuck squeezed in beside you, your head fell to his shoulder.

“You’re all sweaty.” You grumbled, and he only laughed, the vehicle charging into motion once Gally was in the front seat and the rest of the Truck team were on board, your eyes sliding closed.

The journey seemed to slip away, the headache in your skull pounding away, and you managed to find your phone in your backpack, bringing it up at one point to text Newt and find out where he was, only to discover he'd been back at the Firehouse for almost half an hour, and was probably eating the cereal bars you’d hidden.

The time slipped away, and you felt as though you’d almost drifted off, against your own intentions, jerking up a little as the truck came to a halt.

“You’re tired, huh?”

“Yes.” You muttered, groaning as you forced yourself to your feet and stepped down from the platform of the truck, leaving the men to swap out their shoes and hang up their equipment, and Newt had his arms held out to you with a grin on his face, cooing at you as you stumbled forward. “Stop making fun of me.”

“Someone looks exhausted!” He practically sang the words, and you groaned, slumping into him as his arms wrapped around you, and he laughed in your ear while rubbing a hand up and down your back. He eased you for a second, going quiet as he held you, before pulling back, and squeezing at your arms. “How’s that headache?”

“Raging.”

“I got you some painkillers out.” He mumbled, one arm wrapping over your shoulders and guiding you over to the truck. He had a hot bucket of disinfectant and the mop, and as well as all the cleaning equipment, the smell of chemicals already present and showing off that he’d already started on the work to be done. “If you keep me company, I’ll clean the ambo’.”

“You’re a blessing.” He only nodded, handing you two tablets and a plastic cup of water, you chugged them down, all but crawling through the van to slump into the front seat, legs curled up a little as you rested against the still warm fabric.

The rhythmic motions of the mop along the floor created a soft noise, one that was steady enough to lull you into sleep, and even from in here, you could hear the loud ticking of the clock on the wall outside, every single second passing by being counted off in your head as you matched your heartbeat to it.

“Newt, I need a favour.” You groaned, keeping it internal as you bit on the inside of your cheek at the grating sound of a voice belonging to the person you arguably despised most in the world right now. “I got a little burned up, so I need some treatment.”

“I’m busy right now, Tommy. (Y/N) can do it.”

“I’m perfectly fine, I’ll just wait.” You cowered a little behind your chair as you hoped Newt would let him go, but your meddling blond friend tutted his lips, putting down the mop, and you already knew what was coming.

“Not with those burns you won’t. You don’t mind, right, love?”

“I really, really do mind.” You raised a hand over your head, flipping the pair off, but waiting only a second longer, before standing up. Making your way through the vehicle, you were at least feeling a little better, even if the weight of the equipment you’d worn, the heat and the terrifying near-death experience was still making you feel physically drained, your almost-nap and painkillers had taken care of you mentally. “Fine, but you can come here. I’m not standing up.”

You collapsed down on the edge of the van, a white vest-clad chest filling your view as he came to stand before you, and you reached for your bag, Grabbing at the medkit inside, Newt snorted, hopping down and moving away to empty the mop bucket, whistling obnoxiously. Pulling on a fresh pair of rubber gloves, you wiggled your fingers a little, latex snapping against your wrist as you let the edge go, before moving onto the job at hand.

Doing an assessment of his injuries, you sighed, letting his hand go to sit in the space between you both, to find both the types of disinfectant. Holding up one canister and one clear bottle, a coppery coloured liquid inside, he looked between them both, brows furrowed, before looking back to you. “Which do you want?”

“What’s the difference?”

“This one-” You held up the can, shaking it a little. “-is a foam, it stings a bit more, but it makes a cool covering that makes it feel better. But this one-” You shook the bottle, the liquid inside sloshing a little as a layer of bubbles built up. “-is just a liquid, doesn’t hurt as much, but won’t take the heat out.”

“I literally could not care less. I just want to get something to eat, and go back to sleep.” You shrugged, grabbing a pad of cotton and tipping some of the liquid onto it, making sure the soft bundle was soaked enough, before folding his fingers into a fist, and beginning to clean at the skin, ignoring the hiss on his lips.

“I made you a plate of food, from breakfast this morning. It’s in the fridge.”

You jumped a little as you heard the aww-ing from across the room, both of your heads turning to look at Newt as he leaned on the cabinets not far away, arms crossed over his chest as he was busy with absolutely fuck-all, and you scowled at him.

“You made me food?”

Thomas’ voice was whispered, and you only glanced up at him for a second, before dipping your head in a series of slow nods, confirming his question, and reaching for some burn cream. Smearing it on your fingers, you rubbed it against the back of your hand, warming it up until it was longer as stiff, and rubbing it onto his skin.

“Thanks, that was nice of you.”

“I’m not being nice, I’m simply doing my job.” The neutral expression on his face dropped into a scowl as you grinned, using his own words against him. Switching to a set of wrappings, you adjusted his arm in front of you, placing the edge of the gauze between his thumb and forefinger, you sealed it down over unblemished skin with bandage tape. “You know, it’s actually in my job description to keep the firefighters in peak health.”

With each layer of bandaging, you added a layer of cooling spray, and he grunted under his breath. “You couldn't just accept a compliment?”

“Well, you made it very clear that we aren’t nice to one another.”

“You’re being petty.” He grouched, snatching his hand back from you as soon as the wrapping was sealed up, one more glare at you before he was glaring at Newt, and walking back out of the room and ignoring you both, especially Newt’s laughing. He made his way over to you, still cracking up, his hand wrapped around his stomach, and you raised a brow at him as you began to pack everything away.

“What’s so funny, chuckles?”

“You and Thomas. Your bickering,” You turned to him, shaking your head as you tried to find an argument for his meddling, and pulling off the gloves from your hands. “You’re like a married couple.”

“If married couples argued like Thomas and I did, they’d be getting divorced.”

“I don’t even think you know what you’re arguing about anymore. You’re just getting at each other, now.” He shrugged, pulling you up from where you were sitting, in order to lock up the doors of the ambulance. “You just got off on the wrong foot, but mark my words, you won’t hate each other forever. I already know it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Newt.”

#thomas #thomas x reader #thomas/reader #smoke and fire #SAF #tomuary #tom-uary #tommy month #thomas/reader smut #thomas x reader smut #thomas the maze runner #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien/reader #dylan obrien x reader smut #dylan obrien/reader smut #dylan obrien thomas #dylan obrien the maze runner

204 notes · View notes

stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 3 years

Text

Top 5 Most Hated Characters

As y’all can see, this week’s T5F is a request sent in by anon. I picked it because I guess at the time I thought it would be fun to explore some of TWDG’s least popular, and most hated, characters while also taking into account characters that I can’t stand.

These are characters that the vast majority of us don’t like or downright despise for many different reasons. None of us are going out of our ways to defend most of these bastards, and anyone who is I get the impression they’re doing so for the sake of being Different™... though while looking around for info about these characters and what people were saying about them, I did find myself in some odd places.... come across, eh... odd fanart.

But I guess this is the part where I say this is all in good fun and if you happen to be a legit stan of any of these people, that’s cool. Maybe you can answer some of my questions as to why??

5. Nate

Okay, when I said that I found myself in odd places, it turns out that Nate actually has a bit of a fanbase. It’s not big or anything, from what I can tell, but big enough for me to question why because I was under the impression that we all agreed that this dude sucks.

Seriously, I would’ve put him higher on this list if I hadn’t discovered this handful of people making fanart for him and claiming him as a comfort character. While I find that an odd choice, you do whatever makes you feel comforted, y’know? Just would like to understand why.

As for the rest of us, he’s terrible. Every time I go back to 400 days, he’s someone I never look forward to seeing. I’ve even tried not getting in the truck with him while playing Russell’s story, but in true Telltale fashion, you’re forced to drive along with this creep.

Red flags start going off when Russell’s sharing his story about his previous group, something you can tell left some trauma with him, and Nate is just weirdly fixated on the girl Russell liked. Like yeah okay dude, I get it, it’s the apocalypse and you haven’t had any action for a while but oh my god.

Then the whole walker thing that almost gets Russell chomped is annoying. Oh, and how could I forget about how it’s implied that he attacked the old couple before and was there to finish them off, which he does no matter what and it’s not great.

Hell, he even uses the line Russell gave him but it’s worse because crazy eyes. And if you don’t say anything, Nate murders them right there without a thought and then continues to be a real creep. Fuck this guy.

As the wise Eddie once said, “I don’t what that guy in my life, man!”

4. The Stranger

Hey, have I ever mentioned how much this dude sucks?

I don’t even have to tell you why he’s on this list. We all know the obvious reasons-- manipulated and kidnapped Clementine, which caused Lee to get bit by a walker and fucking die. No one here is white-knighting for this dipshit.

Sure, it sucks what the Stranger went through. He lost his family and that would be enough to drive anyone up the wall. I mean, just look at Kenny. But this dude, okay. Look. Listen. I can only feel so bad for you when you lost your son on a hunting trip that your wife told you not to go on, then when you went looking for him, you literally left the car unlocked and running for anyone to come across. Then you come back and gasp. So your wife leaves you for being a moron... then when you find her dead, you cut off her head and keep it like a damn bowling ball because...??

At least that’s what I get from it. The writers probably should’ve done a better job with explaining what the hell happened but y’know.

That’s not the only reason no one likes this guy. Oh no, you also add to the pile that the Stranger himself is dull. As a character, the dude is just.... boring. And I get that’s probably what they were going for with the whole “I’m just a guy, but you ruined my life and made me this way.”

However, when you set him up the way you did with the talks over the walkie and the stalking, I was expecting a bit more personality outta this loaf of soggy bread. But no... boring yet crazy. Interesting combo and I’m afraid it doesn’t work.

3. Larry

Larry?? On a list of most hated characters?? Nooo...

Yeah, surprise. Larry also sucks. Stop the presses.

Larry is a pain in the ass to deal with for two episodes, constantly belittling the people around him and treating his daughter like shit. Oh, and don’t forget how he behaves towards Lee even if you try to be as nice as possible. Nope, he doesn’t care, he still thinks Lee is garbage and will continue threatening to reveal Lee’s secret to the group. Who cares if that could fuck up the dynamic and endanger the group? Larry sure doesn’t.

Until the very end, this dude is just a splinter in the foot. By the time you get to the meat locker and he has a heart attack, you’re not gonna save him because you think he’ll be better if he survives. No, you’re attempting to save him for Lilly and Clementine’s sake, and if you don’t even care about that, you siding with Mr. Family Man to smash his head in.

Not only is he a soiled diaper, he also don’t have much personality outside of asshole. He has maybe two moments where he’s shown to be just a bit chill? I mean, Lilly tells us that he has a lot of pain and that’s why he’s like this.... but that doesn’t excuse his behavior.

Oh, and can’t forget that apparently he was obsessed with Lilly leaving the lights on so he let the power get cut, so Lilly couldn’t eat ice cream and had to let her hair air dry like a heathen. Unforgivable.

So yeah, fuck Larry.

2. Troy

Ugh, Troy. Fuck this guy.

No really, out of all TWDG characters, this dude and my #1 pick are my most hated. Can’t stand Troy and the only reason I didn’t do a tie for #1 is because for a split second, Troy does show a tiny bit of humanity when Carver is beating down Carver, but blink and you’ll miss it.

Which had me a little concerned to find a handful of posts about having crushes on Troy and drawing fanart but.... again, I guess you do you? And if you can, please explain why because I honestly don’t understand.

Just looking at the screenshot of him annoys him. He’s got one of those punchable faces, y’know?

Anyway, when playing as Clementine, I’m always worried that he’s gonna pop up outta no where and grab her by the neck like he does later in ep3, even though I’ve played s2 a bunch to know that he’s not going to.

But hell, he doesn’t need any excuse to smack anyone around, and there are a handful of times he can really hurt Clem depending on her choices.

Not great, dude.

Can’t say I’m too sorry that Jane shot your dick off.

1. Badger

Yeah, you guys remember Badger. Y’know.... the man who murdered Mariana then laughed about it, claiming that he enjoyed watching her head explode and would do it again and again if he could?

That’s what puts him at #1. He may not have the most screen time like Larry or Troy, but when he is around, he’s fucking awful.

He gets joy from killing Mariana, like it’s some sort of sick thrill for him to go around murdering children and other innocent people.

Remember Francine? Caught her and used her as bait to try and get Javi to come down, and even went as far as to have some fingers cut off. Like, he gets off on destroying people, entire communities.

Shit, he seems to even get off to his own beat down.

He’s fucking gross and outta everyone on this list, I haven’t found a single person being like “Yeah, he’s garbage but I like him kinda?” like no, you’re such garbage that even the Different™ crowd don’t want you.

Fuck Badger.

By the way, if you’ve never had Conrad kill him in your game, I suggest looking it up. It’s pretty good. Gives Conrad a little bit of closure after what happened to Francine, as well as give Javi some closure for Mari’s murder.

Not a single soul wept for you, Badger.

---

Dishonorable Mentions

-Joan. She’s boring, forgettable, and no one is out here gushing over her because most of the time, we can’t even remember her name. -Danny from Vince’s story in 400 Days. Y’know, the dude going to prison because he was convicted of SA. I’ll never understand why people go with him over Justin. Justin sucks, too, but not the same level Danny does. -Lilly in S4. Ugh. That’s a whole other topic for another day. -Arvo, though I guess he has a bit of a following, too

---

Well there ya go. Do you agree or disagree with any of my choices for this list? Or have anything to add? I’m always down to chat.

Have any suggestions for future T5F’s? Feel free to send ‘em in! :D

---

Next week’s T5F Top 5 BROTPs

#twdg t5f #twdg clementine #twdg lee #twdg kenny #twdg lilly #twdg larry #twdg jane #twdg troy #twdg russell #twdg nate #twdg aj #twdg #twdg joan #twdg danny #twdg arvo #twdg conrad #twdg javi #twdg mariana #twdg badger

30 notes · View notes

niksixx · 4 years

Text

Bed Head

Requested: Anonymously

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x Female Reader

Description: “Can I request for Nikki please :) She’s on tour with them and is Nikki’s favorite person to flirt with and when they get to the hotel they have to end up sharing a room and sharing a bed which leads to her admitting she likes him and then some smut because Nikki can’t keep his hands to himself? Thank you!”

Warning: Smut

A/N: Reblog !!!

*GIF is NOT mine, but found on Google. Credit to the owner.*

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

“This is so unprofessional! How do you overbook a hotel room?”

The check-in lady gives you a sympathetic look. “I cannot apologize enough for this, ma’am. I understand the inconvenience.”

Inconvenience your ass. This was just plain unacceptable. In a country you’d never visited before, the last thing you expected to worry about was not having a place to stay.

“Everything okay?” asks Tommy, your very best friend. He sees the worry etched in your forehead, and a hand covers your shoulder. Tommy’s band, Mötley Crüe, was on the second leg of their European tour. As best friends from childhood, you and Tommy had been inseparable before his band took off. You went your separate ways for a while as Tommy adjusted to his newfound fame, but Tommy never forgot where he came from. The band was currently touring Europe on their Theatre of Pain tour, and you were ecstatic that you were at a point in your career where you could take a few weeks off to join them.

“They overbooked my room,” you answer sadly, blowing a strand of hair from your eyes. “Now I have to pray that they can find me another room or else I’m fucked.”

“No need to pray, I’ve got it all worked out,” Sunglasses perched atop his head, Nikki Sixx rolls his suitcase over to the desk, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “She’ll be staying with me, ma’am.”

The thing about Nikki Sixx...your relationship was complicated. Out of Tommy’s bandmates, you clicked with Nikki the most, almost instantly. His easy going persona just made you comfortable, want to be around him. He understood you were Tommy’s friend, but that didn’t stop him from poking fun at you, and he loved that you were able to take it. Somewhere down the line, the lighthearted teasing morphed into flirting. With how close the two of you were, it was surprising that Tommy didn’t have a problem with someone he considered a brother flirting with someone he considered his sister. If anything, he encouraged it.

“Easy fix,” Tommy grins, turning back to the lady. “Sorry for the trouble.” Tommy wanders ahead to catch up with Mick and Vince as Nikki stays back with you.

You feel his eyes burning into the side of your head, and you turn to face him. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

His smirk has you weak in the knees. Nikki’s lips were his best physical feature. Soft. Thin. Pink. Maybe one day you’d have the luxury of feeling them on your body, but you’d never get your hopes up. Sure, Nikki flirted with you and had called you pretty, but millions of other women had caught his attention. You were just another girl with a wild fantasy. “It is more than okay, baby girl.”

~~~

“You can’t stop me from sleeping on the floor.”

The argument surrounding your sleeping location had been going on for the last two hours, and you weren’t going down without a fight. The realization that there was only one bed in the hotel room had hit as soon as you opened the door. Immediately your cheeks had flushed with embarrassment when Nikki automatically assumed you’d be sharing the bed with him.

There was no way you could, especially because of your feelings for him. You knew it’d be harmless, but sleeping beside him would give you the wrong idea, even if you’d enjoy the close proximity of his body and the warmth radiating from his skin. You simply couldn’t do it.

“I don’t understand what the big deal is,” Nikki calls from the bathroom as he adjusts his belt in the mirror. “We’re just sleeping!”

Rummaging through your suitcase, you dig around for the small case of earrings you’d packed for nights out on the town. Tonight’s plan was to hit up a few clubs, and you wanted to look your best for a certain bass player.

You find the earrings at the bottom of the suitcase, holding onto the end of the bed to push yourself off the floor. Turning toward the bathroom, you collide with Nikki’s chest. “What are you doing? You’re in my way.”

“Unless,” Nikki clicks his tongue, and the look on his face has you hesitating to move. “Unless there’s a reason you don’t want to sleep with me.”

Oh boy if only he knew how much you’d love to sleep with him.

“Maybe it’s because you snore?”

Scoffing, you slap his shoulder. “I do not snore.” Brushing past him, you head into the bathroom, leaning toward the mirror to get a closer look at your earrings.

“You have your period then,” Nikki suggests, and your mouth drops immediately. He recognizes his mistake and holds up his hands innocently. “Alright, alright, you’re not on your period.”

“That’s not even something you’re supposed to ask a woman,” You remind him, fiddling with the back of the earring.

Stuffing his hands in his jeans pockets, he steps toward you, shoulder resting on the bathroom door. “Then what could it be, hm?”

His voice is slightly higher pitched, almost as if he knows the answer but is waiting for you to confirm. You feel his eyes on you and you turn to look at him, head tilted to the side as he waits for your answer. “Maybe it’s because I like you.”

Nikki smiles. “I figured.”

You’re stunned. “How?”

He shrugs, stepping out of the way to let you back out into the room. You take a seat on the bed, legs dangling off the side as he stands in front of you. “Tommy’s the worst at keeping secrets.”

Anger vibrates in your bones. “That bitch…” He’d betrayed you! Breaking the pinky promise and everything. “Oh I’m going to kill him.”

Nikki sits beside you, hands clasped together between his legs as his elbows rest on his knees. “To be fair, he technically only confirmed it. I think I knew all along, but I wanted to be sure.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, heat rising from your neck. “It was that obvious, huh?”

His grin expands across his pale face. “Pretty much.”

Groaning, you fall back on the bed, covering your face as Nikki laughs. Well, now that the cat’s out of the bag, you have to try and come up with a better excuse. There’s no way you’d be able to sleep next to Nikki now, not after everything he knows.

As you try to concoct another explanation, you feel Nikki crawl on top of your body, pinning you to the bed with his weight. Your eyes shoot open, breath hitching as his tattooed fingers trail up the side of your waist, to your neck, and skim against the base of your throat.

“Nikki,” you swallow nervously, “What are you doing?”

“Well, we don’t have to meet the boys for another ten minutes,” He flashes a knowing smirk. “What do you say we break in the bed? Make you a little more comfortable.”

His lips cover yours and you give in, arms wrapping around his torso, pulling him deeper against your body. His tongue teases you, poking out of his mouth to lick your bottom lip as a hand finds your breast, kneading it through the fabric of your short blue dress. Hooking your leg over his waist, you grind your crotch against him, needing to feel some type of friction.

His mouth moves from your lips to your neck and throat, licking and sucking the skin, biting occasionally to claim you. You couldn’t believe this was happening. All the nights spent dreaming of kissing Nikki were finally becoming a reality in front of you.

Nikki inches down your body, fingers skimming over the end of your dress, pulling it up your body, letting it gather at your stomach. Your pussy is right in front of him, clad only by a thin white lace thong. He gazes up at you. “Can I touch you?”

Nodding eagerly, the word flies out of your mouth. “Please.”

Nikki drags his finger up the front of your clothed vagina, sending the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. Two fingers touch your clit, rubbing slow, agonizing circles. Wetness coats the inside of the thong, and Nikki’s eyes blaze. Pulling the fabric aside, he again uses one finger to brush your clit. Arousal pools between your thighs, and Nikki’s cock constricts against his pants, begging to be free.

“I want you,” Nikki’s voice rasps, lowering his mouth to press a feather light kiss to your pussy. “I want to taste you.”

“Yes,” you moan out, bucking your hips while Nikki lightly nibbles the inside of your thighs. “Yes, Nikki.”

He dives right in as soon as his name leaves your mouth. His tongue is warm and wet against your flesh, licking between your folds, savoring your taste on his tongue. The tip of his tongue flicks your clit rapidly, arms wrapping around your thighs to bring you closer to his face.

Your hands tangle in his messy hair, yanking the strands while simultaneously pushing his face impossibly deeper. He hums against your pussy, sucking your clit into his mouth, and it feels even better than you could have imagined.

“You like being fucked by my tongue, don’t you, beautiful?”

“Yes, fuck, please give me more,” Rocking your hips, you drag out a groan, fisting the bed comforter in your palms as Nikki’s tongue swipes across your hot flesh. “Fuck, fuck, yes.”

A loud squeal fills the room. You bite down on your tongue, pussy adjusting to Nikki’s mouth on your clit as three fingers pump in and out, juices coating his digits.

“Oh, God, Nikki! Nikki!” You’re screaming his name, completely disregarding the neighbors in the hotel room next door. “Let me cum, Nikki, please let me come.”

“Not yet,” he growls, flattening his tongue. His fingers continue their assault on your cunt, curling inside in a come hither motion. “You come when I tell you.”

Can you hold on? Throwing your head back, your back arches off the bed, legs twisting as Nikki tries to keep them apart with his free hand. Beads of sweat coat your arms as you try to support your weight, thoughts focusing on Nikki’s expert tongue.

When your thighs begin to shake, you automatically sense a pit of pleasure burning in your lower stomach. You bite down on your lip hard, stifling a cry.

He knows your close and goddamn it he’s so ready to help you ride out your high. “Come, baby. Come all over my tongue.”

He didn’t need to ask you twice. Reaching back for a pillow, you cover your face just as your orgasm rocks through you, juices dripping down Nikki’s chin as he licks you clean.

He lets you catch your breath before sitting back on his haunches, admiring your body. A knock on the door startles you. “Yo, Nikki! Y/N! You ready to go?” Vince calls from the other side.

Licking his lips, Nikki gives you a once over before slapping his palms down on his thighs. “We probably should get going.”

Where the confidence came from, you’ve no clue, but you grab Nikki and pull him on his back, stunning him. Slithering down his body, you come face to face with his growing erection, and you can’t help but run your hand over his clothed dick. His eyes widen. “Uh, baby girl? The boys?”

You offer a small smile, slowly unzipping his pants and digging his cock out of his boxers. Licking a stripe up his shaft, you swirl your tongue around the head, emitting a groan from Nikki’s throat. “The boys can wait,” you purr, kissing the head of his cock. “Can you?”

360 notes · View notes

gothpanda · 3 years

Text

A Little Bit of Attitude Ch. 37: Vancouver

WORD COUNT: 5.1K

A/N: haha three ch in under a week? love that for me

TAGS: @madamsixx @nosebleedblitz

@emariehorror

WARNINGS: none

Read On Ao3

Previous/Next

February 5th, 1988

Tucson, Arizona

Nikki popped his bubblegum, resting his leg across his other to get comfortable in the dark green armchair. He waited patiently in the therapy office, looking out the wall-to-ceiling window to the Arizona desert. The sound of the door opening made Nikki's head turn, the on-edge feeling turning into a relaxed emotion.

"Sorry I'm late, Nikki. I had run into a colleague for a minute," said the Dr. grabbing his notebook from his desk.

"It's okay, Ortiz. Felt nice to think of what to say before we started," politely said Nikki, spitting his gum out onto a tissue.

"Good. It's always best to think before rambling during an appointment. Gets all the bases," said Dr. Ortiz, sitting down in front of Nikki. He clipped his pen and wrote down the date on his notes for Nikki. "So, how have we been feeling personally?"

"My mood has been good. I haven't tanked and felt depressed. It feels great to say that. I really haven't felt depressed since being here," said Nikki, scoffing at the fact of being healthy working out for him.

"Well done then. According to my notes here, you had a group therapy session a couple of days ago with a guest? Is that correct?" asked Dr. Ortiz. Nikki nodded. "And how was it seeing a familiar face for the first time since admitting yourself into rehab?"

"I was happy, then I was scared. Scared and happy at the same time. I don't know how anyone can have those feelings together, but I did," said Nikki, rubbing his hands together, Sammi's face popping in his head.

"Why were you scared?" asked Dr. Ortiz, ready to write down what Nikki was about to say.

"Sammi and I didn't leave on the greatest terms in California. When I saw her, I was scared of what she would say about being around me when I was doing heroin,"

"And how did you feel in the end after she expressed her feelings?"

"Sad… I really didn't realize how horrible Sammi felt about everything from the moment I started. It never crossed my mind the conversation we had when we broke up. I don't want to hurt her like that ever again," said Nikki, continuing to rub his hands together.

"While it may have been a terrible feeling to hear to her side of the abuse, it helps make you a better person living a sober life and get rid of the fear,"

"What if I'm still scared of being sober?" asked Nikki, looking down at his feet

"And what is it that you're scared of exactly?"

Nikki sighed, rubbing his hands on his pants. "What if I'm a terrible boyfriend to her being sober? That's what I'm scared about,"

Dr. Ortiz is taken aback but almost lets out a chuckle. "Why would you believe you'd make a terrible boyfriend? You seemed like a great man to her and only her. Even with your troubles from all of our sessions. So why worry when you'd be healthy?"

"Because I've never been with someone I love without some kind of 'help,'" said Nikki, blushing from saying the L-word. "I've always been under the influence even to a small extent with Sammi because I needed it. Without drugs I'm a timid man who wants to be with the smartest girl he ever met," sighed Nikki. "That's why I'm scared,"

Dr. Ortiz takes a second to think before speaking, ready to talk man to man. "Nikki, I'm not going to be speaking in a way of a therapist but how a normal married man would. If Sammi dealt and stuck around long enough when you had your shit, then what makes you think she's not going to love Sober Nikki?" asked Dr. Ortiz, narrowing his eyes at Nikki.

"But she blamed herself for me dying…"

"And that is when you act like a man and treat her like the queen she is to you. Understood?" Nikki only nodded. "Very good. It's going to be a learning curve but hiding isn't going to work out,"

June 3rd, 1988

San Francisco, California

Boxes upon boxes were scattered among the small place that was now Sammi's old apartment, ready to be filled with every single little thing she can take home. Sammi kneeled in front of one labeled 'photos' as Emma and Sabrina were graciously beside her, putting other things in different boxes. Sabrina organized all of Sammi's books while Emma took the time for her snack break.

"Thanks for the help you two, even if Emma's been eating the whole time," said Sammi, smiling over at Emma in the middle.

"Your kitchen is empty for your information thanks to me so you're welcome," said Emma with a mouth full of banana, Sabrina shaking her head playfully.

"Why thank you, Emma. Is it still hard to believe I'm finally done with school? No more having to deal with grades,"

"Tell me about it. I'm starting to miss it already and I'm only taking a year off," said Sabrina, reading the back of one book.

"Yeah yeah we get it. You two are done with college while my ass is still going to classes," said Emma, pouting.

"Awe you'll be fine," said Sabrina, pinching Emma's cheeks. "Just one more year and then you'll be free to your heart's content," The three girls chuckled along, Sammi continuing to pack her belongings on the living room floor.

"Hey Sam, I have a question," said Emma.

"Shoot,"

"Do you have any regrets moving over by yourself? I'm starting to think about what I wanna do when I graduate,"

"You're gonna leave me and move away?" asked Sabrina, raising an eyebrow.

"You're gonna leave us?" corrected Sammi.

Emma giggled at the two. "No, I'm not moving out just yet. I just want to know what it's like here since it's the 'gay mecca'. I have to be with the lesbians at some point," joked Emma.

Sammi stared into the distance for a moment, pursing her lips as she thought about the question, "Yeah I actually do. I wish I never moved here,"

"What? Why?" asked Emma, scrunching her brows together.

"Think about it. I didn't make any friends here. I only met rude and miserable people when I had the chance to make friends. All I have are bad memories. Me leaving didn't do any good back home with Nikki, leading to another fight with Vince. I should've just stayed in L.A,"

"Damn I never thought about it that way," said Sabrina.

"Me neither," added Emma.

"If I stayed then maybe I wouldn't have any awkward tension between Vince and now Nikki. Maybe we'd all be living under one roof. It's just something I think about," said Sammi, looking down at the scattered photos.

"Well hey, who needs friends when you have us," said Emma, swinging an arm around Sabrina to pull her into their side. Sammi only smiled at the two with a sweet chuckle before going back to finishing the last of the photos, taping the box shut.

"You do have multiple points. Speaking of which, how are the guys since getting out of rehab?" asked Sabrina.

"They are currently in Canada working on a new album, so that's always good. Tommy, Mick, and Vince left in April. I would say they're doing great since being out. Tommy was a big help going apartment hunting with me," said Sammi.

"What about Nik?" asked Emma.

Sammi sighed. "He went straight to Canada after being released. I haven't heard from him since that therapy session," said Sammi, lowering her eyes from Emma and Sabrina. They could see the change in Sammi's face. Even if she didn't say it loud, the girls knew Sammi missed Nikki.

"You should just go visit them," suggested Emma. "I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be the biggest shock in the world to the guys,"

"Yeah but this isn't a tour date. They're working this time, and I don't want to be a nuisance,"

"You seriously don't think Heather or whoever is dating Vince doesn't barge in when they record back home?" asked Sabrina.

Sammi did shrug a shoulder in acknowledgment until something clicked in her head. "Wait I just remembered Mick said I could visit,"

"Then go!" shouted Emma and Sabrina in unison.

"Fine! Fine! I'll make some calls after we're home and I'm somewhat settled," said Sammi, standing up on her feet and walking to see what needed to be packed in parts of her bedroom.

June 14th, 1988

Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada

For being summer in Canada, the country proved to be the coldest place Sammi has ever visited, needing to wear her warmest leather jacket for the trip. She was quick to learn Vancouver was a calm city with still enough action going around. Sammi made a mental note to come back whenever L. A got too hot for her.

With the help of Doc setting Sammi up in Canada, it didn't take any time to find the recording studio Motley was working at. Sammi walked straight into the two-story building, hands in her pocket as she looked at the wooden interior. She stood right in the middle of the lobby where no one occupied the front desk, surprised by the quiet. The sound of steps walking down the stairs caused Sammi to turn on her heels, facing a young man with papers in his hand.

"Uh hey!" said Sammi, smiling politely at the young man.

"Hi… um who are you?" asked the skinny young man, walking down the last steps with hesitation.

"I'm Sammi, sorry to just pop in like this," said Sammi, extending out a hand.

"Like the name. I'm Kevin," said Kevin, shaking Sammi's hand. "What can I help you with?"

"Well I was wondering if Motley Crue was here right now. I'm Tommy's little sister," said Sammi, fixing the strap of her purse.

"Oh yeah they're upstairs with their producer right now. Did they know you were coming?" asked Kevin.

"No, I wanted to surprise them. It's been kind of boring back in California," smiled Sammi to hopefully let Kevin lead her to the boys.

"Well…" said Kevin, looking up the stairs and back at Sammi. "I know their producer Bob might not like you being here but I do know you're pretty special to the guys,"

"Yeah, the guys and I are pretty tight,"

"Alright then come with me," said Kevin, leading Sammi up the stairs. Kevin led Sammi through a spacious long hallway, knocking on the second door to their right. He peeked his head inside once, opening the door slightly. "Um, sir, the boys have a visitor,"

"I said no visitors. These four don't need any female distractions," said Bob in a deep and intimidating voice. Sammi almost regretted surprising the boys if they had this man working with them.

"It's Tommy's sister Sammi, sir,"

"Sammi!" yelled Tommy, Sammi hearing his steps rush out the door. Tommy swung the door open and, in one quick movement, engulfed Sammi in a tight hug, lifting her up in the air. "I've missed you!"

"It's only been 2 months!" giggled Sammi.

"I don't care, I miss you!" said Tommy, placing Sammi down on her feet. Before Sammi could say anything, she soon noticed Nikki right behind Tommy, almost in hiding. Nikki sheepishly had his hand in the back of his jean pockets and a slight smile on his lips.

"Hey, Sammi," uttered Nikki, stepping closer to Sammi. Sammi couldn't keep her eyes off Nikki, first noting every single new thing about the man. He had more tattoos all down his arm of what appeared to be Japanese artwork. It complimented his now bigger biceps and toned body, seeing Nikki's pecs through his shirt. Tommy could see the shock and plan to gawk on Sammi's face, finding it downright humorous.

When Nikki stood right in front of Sammi, Sammi blinked rapidly and cracked a smirk. "Wow. You look…" lingered Sammi.

"Different?" blushed Nikki.

"I was going to say great. You look great with your new look," smiled Sammi, finally one take forward and hugging Nikki like normal. Nikki didn't question anything, wrapping his strong arms tightly around Sammi. She could feel the difference in strength right away.

"Come on, let's not be greedy," said Tommy, grasping Sammi's shoulder and leading her into the recording room.

Without Sammi facing the terror twins, Tommy flashed a smirk to Nikki as if the adults were back to being teenagers in high school. Mick was the first to welcome Sammi in, heading straight for a hug and a pat on her head.

"Ain't this a surprise, Little girl," said Mick.

"You're the one who told me to come," smiled Sammi, causing Mick to shrug his shoulder.

Mick was almost pleased with himself. "Didn't think you'd take the bait," chuckled Mick. Mick looking healthy was Sammi's first thought, causing the smile to stick on her lips.

"Hey Sammi," said Vince, going straight for a hug that was gladly returned. "Finally we can have some fun around here,"

Right as Sammi was close to responding when the sight of Bob caused her to shut her mouth. Bob was a big tall man whose voice matched everything about him physically. He towered over Sammi, glaring down at her with an intense stare. Sammi took a few steps back, almost hiding right behind Nikki.

"Am I really that scary?" asked Bob, breaking into a smile.

"Do you want an honest answer?" asked Sammi, staying beside Nikki. Nikki crossed his arms, puffing his chest to seem as if he was protecting Sammi. Bob nodded. "You're more than a foot taller than me and built like a football player. You are scary to me!" said Sammi. Everyone burst into laughter, any tension dissipating.

"Well I am not a mean person. It's a pleasure to meet you, Sammi. You just came at the right second, the boys are on a break," said Bob.

"I really hope I'm not imposing. I can just go back to my hotel and wait,"

"No!" said Motley in unison.

"Sammi trust us, we need you for a bit," said Nikki, squeezing Sammi's shoulder gently.

"You can stay for the rest of the session if you like, Sammi. I'm serious. If anyone needs me, I'll be in the offices. We'll start recording vocals in 20," said Bob, walking out, having Kevin follow him right behind. Sammi let out a sigh of relief, happy to not bother anyone who was working with Motley.

"See, Sam, you're welcome wherever you go," said Tommy pulling out a chair for Sammi that she accepted.

"I guess I am. But enough about me, how's the album going?" excitedly asking Sammi, smiling with bright eyes at the guys.

As the guys all settled back into their seats, Mick whipped out a piece of paper of every song for their new album, all in Nikki's handwriting. Sammi took the form for closer examination, reading off every circled name of a song.

"Okay so we have 'Dr. Feelgood'. That one sounds cool. 'Slice of Your Pie', I wonder what that one's about," said Sammi, glaring at all the guys with a smirk.

"Get your mind out of the gut, Samantha," teased Vince.

"Rattlesnake Shake. That one also sounds cool. Kickstart My Heart. That has to be about Nikki. Without you?" stopped Sammi, scrunching her brows together. She looked up at Motley, trying to read all their faces. Vince and Tommy shifted their eyes to each other, looking at Nikki and Mick. Nikki bounced his leg a bit more than usual. "What's 'Without You' about?" asked Sammi. Nikki and Tommy glanced at each other, waiting for one of the two to speak.

"It's a song about Heather and I. You know how record labels are about having love songs on albums," said Tommy, putting on a somewhat convincing smile.

"Oh so you wrote a song!" exclaimed Sammi. "That's awesome. Did you help him, Nikki?" Nikki shook his head. "Well can I hear it? Especially if you wrote it Tommy,"

"It's not done yet, Sam. We still need the instruments on some parts," said Vince, Nikki thanking him in his mind. "Anyway! How many days are you staying in Vancouver?" asked Vince.

"I'm only staying for 2 days. I just wanted to make sure you four were still good and running," said Sammi.

"Awe come on Sammi, you don't have to worry about us. We're adults who have now figured out life. Kind of," said Vince with a proud smug smile.

"Vince is right and we can prove it to you," said Nikki.

"Oh really? How so?" asked Sammi, raising a brow with a smirk to Nikki.

"How about you come out to our rental tonight. We can all make dinner together and catch up especially since I haven't seen you in months," said Nikki, matching Sammi's smirk.

"And whose fault is that, Nikki?" asked Tommy, chuckling at the glare he received. Sammi snickered but hid her smile behind her hands as Nikki faced her again.

"That sounds like a great idea, Nik. I would love that," smiled Sammi. It was like they were in their own little world again, where Nikki only knew Sammi. Vince didn't feel the massive sting of jealousy as before, only by a quarter of the feeling. Nevertheless, he had to admit it was nice to see Sammi happy as well as Nikki.

"I can pick you up from your hotel, Sam. Our place is basically in the middle of nowhere. It's by a small lake!" said Tommy.

"Well isn't that cute. I hope you four are ready for my cooking," teased Sammi, standing up from her seat as she noticed Bob about to walk into the room again. It was time to somewhat finish what the boys started, more vocals on Vince's behalf. Sammi just sat on the loveseat right behind Nikki with a happy smile on her face.

"Okay!" Bob clapped. "Let's get back to work!"

Sammi shouldn't have been surprised when she first laid eyes on Motley's rental house that appeared to be a country log cabin. It subtly screamed Nikki and his Idaho roots. A beautiful two-story log cabin in the middle of the green forest with a lake within walking distance. It was a fantastic little escape for the guys after a long day at the studio, calling this home for who knows how long. In the open space kitchen, Sammi and Tommy served the five plates ready for Sammi's food. Nikki set up the dining table with forks and knives, placing the guys' drink of choice. Without asking her, Nikki popped open a bottle of Sammi's favorite red wine and poured a glass for her. It didn't take much energy for Nikki to completely ignore the alcoholic drink. Vince and Tommy set the plates of food on top of each placemat while Mick put the garlic bread basket right in the middle. Everything smelled amazing.

"Okay! Are we all ready to eat?" asked Sammi, walking into the dining room, seeing Motley sat down like well-behaved children with Tommy leaving a spot right next to him. "I'll take that as a yes," Sammi said, sitting beside her brother.

It was a comfortable silence that filled the room. Only the sound being made was of forks hitting the plates that felt like music to Sammi's ears. Silent people eating was a compliment for Sammi.

"I forgot how great your cooking is, Sammi," said Vince, finally taking a breather as he sipped on his glass of water.

"It's just spaghetti with meatballs," snickered Sammi, looking over Tommy to see Vince.

"Yes but we are used to frozen meatballs and pregos spaghetti sauce," said Mick, mouth almost full of food.

Sammi shook her head, taking another bite of a meatball. She glanced over at Nikki right in front of her, smiling at how he ate in silence. "Nikki seems to love my food. His head has been down his plate the entire time." teased Sammi. Nikki only flipped Sammi off in a matter she knew was playful. Sammi notices her glass of wine, looking around the guys. She smelled it and took a sip, happy to know it's her favorite. "Did you pour me some wine, Tommy?" Tommy shook his head.

"I did," said Nikki. "I thought you would enjoy a nice glass of wine,"

"But-"

"Sam, you don't have to quit drinking just because we did," said Mick, patting Nikki on the back. Sammi didn't say anything else, taking another sip of her wine.

"So, Samantha, a little birdie told me you got your pharmacy license. How does it feel being a full time grown up?" asked Nikki, relaxing in his chair.

"I'm so happy I passed, I did not want to react that stupid exam. Now it's just interviews back in L.A," said Sammi.

"Finally settled in at your new place?" asked Tommy, finishing the last of his food.

"Yeah I just need to figure out what to put in the second room. I only have my San Francisco sofa,"

"I'm surprised you kept anything from that tiny place," said Vince. "This might sound so stupid but does a pharmist apply? All I can think of is Walgreens,"

"I am mainly aiming at the hospitals now that most have their own private pharmacy," answered Sammi, finishing the last drop of wine. "Oh! I almost forgot! I finally bought a new car! It's a mustang,"

"Hallelujah! She finally listened!" said Nikki, dropping his head back to pretend he was looking at God.

Sammi smirked and flipped him off. "Great to know you didn't leave your sarcasm at rehab,"

"Oh, I love family dinners!" exclaimed Tommy, being the first of a domino effect to rise from his seat to take his dirty plate to the kitchen. Mick and Vince soon left, leaving Nikki and Sammi alone. They stayed in silence, Sammi scratching her neck as she looked away from Nikki. Nikki kept his eyes on Sammi.

"Do you wanna go for a walk outside? I can show you the lake," asked Nikki. Sammi only nodded.

As Nikki and Sammi walked beside the stream, they still kept a fair distance between themselves, keeping a guard up. Compared to how they were only a moment ago, they couldn't speak to each other the same way in privacy. One of them had to break the wall first, but they didn't know who it would be or what they would say first.

"I'm sorry," said Sammi.

Nikki halted, scrunching his brows in deep 11's at Sammi. "What? You're sorry? For what?"

Sammi sat down on the dry grass, inching close to dip her finger in the cold lake water; Nikki sat beside her. "I started to think after the therapy session about how we started, and I realized I wasn't nice. It wasn't ideal to how a couple should start,"

"Sammi-"

"Just hear me out, please," said Sammi, biting her lip as she stared out into the water. "When I got with Vince I knew you had feelings for me, but I didn't do anything about it. I just ditched you and you have to admit that must've hurt, Nikki. Even if we got together in the end,"

Nikki sighed out, pulling out pieces of grass under his feet. "Yeah it did,"

"I should've never gotten with Vince right after we had sex for the first time, and I'm sorry I would go to you when Vince pissed me off, I shouldn't have done that either. I knew how much you cared about me and I still listened to Athena & Tommy. I should've just chosen for myself," said Sammi, finally looking at Nikki.

"Would you have gotten with Vince even if your siblings weren't in your ear?" asked Nikki.

"No… but I think I needed it. I needed that little heartbreak to learn," said Sammi.

"Thank you. I appreciate it, Sammi. I really do," said Nikki with a smile. Sammi sighed out, feeling the weight leave her shoulders.

"Also I'm so fucking sorry I called you by that name. I was just-"

"Sammi, again, I appreciate it," chuckled Nikki. Silence soon filled between them again.

"Hey, have you happened to have any 'demons' hit you up?" asked Sammi.

Nikki dryly chuckled. "If you mean my past drug buddies, only one. Veronica called me when I was in rehab,"

"Oh," said Sammi in straight monotone.

"Don't worry, she finally got the idea we're not getting married,"

"Hope she returned that fucking ring. What did she want?" asked Sammi.

Nikki smiled at Sammi, finding her jealousy amusing. "She said she almost overdosed a week before calling me, only to have her call me high off her ass. So I just wished her well and hung up. I couldn't handle that,"

"You sadly can't fix them all I guess," said Sammi sadly.

"I'm scared, Sam. I'm scared to go back to L.A," blurted out Nikki.

"Why?"

"Because I'm not the same Nikki that left. I know I'm going to lose friends but what if I get home and find out I really had no one this whole time?" asked Nikki, looking down at the grass. "Then what do I do?"

Sammi swallowed away her nerves, inching closer to Nikki as she laid a gentle hand on his bicep. "Hey, look at me," said Sammi. Nikki turned, eye dilating from how close to Sammi for the first time. "You have people now who truly care about you and you alone. I can already see a better relationship between you and the guys," Sammi soon grew hesitant, looking away from Nikki for a second. "And you have me. That's all you need right now after finally getting better. Remember that," said Sammi, squeezing Nikki's arm.

It took all of Nikki's strength to not lean in and kiss Sammi but be a miracle he managed. "Thank you, Sammi. I appreciate it," said Nikki. Sammi rested on her knees and hugged Nikki the best way they could. Nikki leaned into her, wrapping an arm around her waist.

June 15th, 1988

A knock on the hard hotel door almost scares Sammi, jumping off her bed and softly tiptoeing to look through the peephole. When seeing Nikki appear anxious in the hallway, she swung the door open with worry.

"Nikki, what's wrong? Are you okay? Are the guys okay?" asked Sammi in one breath, lightly placing a hand on his chest. Nikki shook his head, walking right into the single bed hotel room.

"I, um, I just really needed to give you something before you go tomorrow," said Nikki, rubbing his fingers together in a nervous habit.

Sammi eyed Nikki, not downplaying scanning him from head to toe. "Okay but just know you're scaring me," said Sammi, sitting at the foot of the bed. Nikki stood right in front of Sammi, pulling out a cassette tape from his jean pocket. He gave it one last look before handing it to Sammi, not looking her in the eye. As Sammi took the cassette, she quickly noticed "Without You" written by Nikki on the front, scrunching her brows together.

"You can play this right when I leave," said Nikki, ready to walk right out of the room. Instead, Sammi took to hold onto his wrist.

"What the hell is going on? Why're you giving me the song Tommy wrote?" asked Sammi.

Nikki sighed. "Tommy didn't write it. I did. It's finally a love song I wrote that isn't disguised… and that's about us,"

"You wrote me a love song?" smiled Sammi. Nikki nodded with a blush on his cheeks. Sammi couldn't help it any longer, standing on the tips of toes, cradling Nikki's face as she leaned in for that kiss. A kiss so soft and kind, Nikki felt his heart burst out of his chest, afraid to kiss again.

"Thank you," whispered Sammi, a smile still on her lips. Nikki scoffed, matching a smile. "But I need to listen to this right now," Sammi said, darting straight to the radio on the desk table. Nikki didn't protest, only groaned as he dropped himself on the bed, hiding under a pillow. The song in its entirety was touching but more so for Sammi, paying deep attention to every lyric. Sammi took the cassette out when it finished, looking over at Nikki's body thrown on the bed. She stretched herself on the bed, taking the pillow off Nikki's face to see his deep red flush.

"I love you," said Sammi. Nikki looked up in shock at Sammi, lips parting as if he wanted to say something. But all he caught was another kiss from Sammi with more passion. The two fell almost into the same old routine, Nikki's hand caressing Sammi's hair, Sammi's hand on Nikki's clothed chest. As Sammi started to lower her hands, the feeling of excitement turned into anxiety for Nikki in a blink of an eye.

"Sammi," whispered Nikki, placing his hands on her shoulders, giving the distance between them.

"What's wrong?" asked Sammi. Nikki slowly sat up, wiping the sweat off his hands. He took a few deep breaths, not able to look in Sammi's direction. "Are you okay, Nikki?"

"Remember when I told you I was scared?" asked Nikki. Sammi nodded. "Being with you like this was in that same word," said Nikki, meeting Sammi's worried eyes. "I-I've never been sober and doing this… with you,"

"Not even a little sober?" asked Sammi.

"When I say I was dependent, I really mean it. I needed a bit of something to bring me nerves down,"

"Guess your shyness didn't go away either," joked Sammi, rubbing her finger softly on Nikki's cheek. "Nikki, I'm not going to pressure you to do anything you don't want to do,"

"And trust me I do. It's just what if I'm bad at everything I thought I was good at between us?"

"I don't think it works like that, sweetheart. But I still don't want you to feel pressured to sleep with me. We can just cuddle and fall asleep. It'll be okay," reassured Sammi.

Nikki smiled lovingly at Sammi, leaning in to kiss her softly. "I love you, Sammi Lee. I really do," whispered Nikki.

Sammi's cheeks flushed. "And I love you, Nikki Sixx," whispered Sammi, leaning her head on Nikki's shoulder.

"Come on, you have a flight in the morning," said Nikki, playfully pushing Samami down on the bed. As Nikki stood at the bed's foot to strip down to his boxers, Sammi got under the soft white covers. The two fell back into the routine of late-night tv and cuddles. Nikki having his arm securely around Sammi with her head laid on his bare chest. The feeling of calm security quickly engulfed the two after a long marathon of danger. It was perfect.

23 notes · View notes

tiny-banana-time · 3 years

Note

Gimme 96, 83 and 63 :D

Ey thanks! Prompts are here.

63 How well does your character handle difficult people?

Oh man, it depends? Lol so like, difficult children? Fine. Just talk to them, calm them down, encourage them, whatever. Not a big deal. Difficult adults? Very little patience haha. He can have a pretty short temper for people that are rude / unpleasant / aggressive / general dickbags. Vince pulls out that smile that says "I'm trying to decide how to beat your ass, and if I feel like exerting the energy to do it." He's such a sassy, shitty 'lil fucker lmao. He tries to solve with words first (however snarky and aggressively sarcastic they may be) and fists second.

83 What is the first thing they say and/or do when they wake up?

Snooze the alarm for five minutes and roll over hahaha. Just once, though. He still has that Nomad discipline ingrained when it comes to sleeping habits, though it has relaxed a bit over his time in N.C. (and especially once he gets together with Kerry...). First thing he says is usually either a grunted curse, or a begrudged mornin' to Ker.

96 How do they move and carry themselves? What energy do they project?

Doing what he does, he has to have that presence, you know? He's always gotta make himself look bigger than he is (at 5'11" he's not small, but he can still be towered over) and have that aura around him like "please don't fuck with me". Vince tries to always move with confidence and purpose. For the most part, when he's working, he succeeds. That projection totally falls around certain people, though. If he can be comfortable with those he's with, you can feel his guard drop and his shoulders relax, almost like he takes the tension out of the air itself. His presence becomes warm, welcoming, goofy, and like that of an older brother or lifelong friend. He feels like someone you can trust with both your childhood secrets and your darkest regrets, if he likes you.

#Vince #I should probably have a different tag for him #my v #he's a dork and a sweetheart #onlymeandlife

6 notes · View notes

sheerbeautyreigns · 3 years

Text

DESIRE

Part 57

Joe awoke the next day, squinting against the bright lights. He could instantly feel his swollen lip. His eyes searched the room, trying to figure out where he was. “Baby, I’m so glad you’re awake.” Paul sounded releived, clutching his hand. “Where am I?” He still felt groggy.

“You’re in the hospital. I have the best doctors taking care of you.”

“What happened?” He asked, confused. “You don’t remember?” Joe nodded, raising his hand to his head. “You were assaulted at the party. When we found you, your face was bleeding and there’s some damage to your rectum. This is all my fault.” A look of horror crossed Joe's face as flashes from the night before came to mind. “It was Michael. I remember…” Tears streamed down Joe face. “I knew it! Don’t worry baby. The cops are on it.” Paul leaned over the bed and stroked his better cheek, wiping away his tears. “I’m so sorry! I’m gonna take care of you, I promise. I’ve already spoken to Vince.” Paul assured him

“Oh God.” Joe panicked. “It’s OK, he’s fine. I told him you were attacked. I told him I’m dealing with it.” At that moment, a nurse came in. “Honey, you should be resting. Sir, you shouldn’t be here getting him all worked up. He needs to rest. He’s had a traumatic experience.”

“I’m sorry, I just need to be with him.” Paul intervened, still clutching his hand. “It’s OK, I want him here.” Joe said weakly. “Well you need to rest and you need to get some rest too. You’ve been here all night.” She told Paul off.

“I’ll be fine. Why don’t you go back to the hotel and sleep?” Joe suggested. “I’m still tired. Please?” The hotel was maybe a 15 minute drive. “OK.” Paul finally gave in. “I’ll be back in a few hours. I love you so much.” He stood and kissed his forehead tenderly.

After Paul left, Joe lay alone in his room sobbing to himself, remembering more about the night before. He felt sick to his stomach. Eventually he drifted off to sleep again. When Paul arrived back a few hours later, Joe had just woken up. “I brought some of your things.” He said setting his gym bag aside. “Did you get any sleep?”

“A little. My heads all over the place.” Paul leaned down and kissed his forehead, stroking his hair. “It’s strange seeing your hair in a ponytail.”

“It’s not my choice.” Joe tried to smile but his mouth hurt too much. He hated that Joe was going through this. It had already been an eventful week for them. “Do you remember anything more about…about what happened?” Paul asked hesitantly, settling into the seat by the bed, holding onto his hand. “It was Michael. He was already being forceful with me. Then this other guy showed up. He was kinda big, tanned, dark hair. It’s like they planned to hurt me. Michael slapped my mouth at first and then he…he punched me in the face. I don’t remember anything other than the other guy trying to fuck me. It hurt so much.” Joe raised his palms to his face and inhaled deeply, trying not to cry again. Paul’s blood was boiling. “I promise. We’ll get them. I promise.”

“I feel so bad about missing work.” Joe sniffled. “Hey, don’t worry about that. Vince totally understands. Obviously he doesn’t know exactly what happened, just that you were jumped but he didn’t ask many questions. As long as he knows I’m dealing with it, it’s fine. Based on what the doctors say, you might only be out for a couple of weeks. They’ll have to reconstruct your nose and obviously you’ll l have to take it easy. You wonwon’t need to forfeit your title.”

“I don’t care about that. I just don’t want people to start asking why we were together…” Joe looked slightly worried.

“Let them ask. It’s nobody’s business. All I care about is you.”

Joe ended up having surgery on his nose the following day at lunchtime. It was a success and Paul was told he should be out in a couple of days. He wasn’t able to see him as he had to be in Stamford for important meetings with the board. Once done, he flew to LA to bring Joe back to Tampa. He took him straight to his apartment where his mother was waiting. She had been worried sick and was horrified to see what had happened to her baby. Understand his eyes were slightly swollen as was his lip. His face was bruised around the midsection. After spending the whole evening making a fuss and thanking Paul over and over for taking care of him, she left but promised to be back.

“Your mother makes such a fuss.” Paul laughed coming into the living room after saying goodbye. Joe forced a faint smile and nodded. “As much as you do.”

“I just wanna be here for you.” Paul said settling down beside him on the sofa. “Can I get you anything?”

“Just relax. You haven’t stopped since we got back.” Joe said, resting his hand on Joe's lap. “You must be shattered after today.” Paul commented, brushing a loose strand of hair from his face. “I am. I would have made this place more presentable if I’d known you were coming to stay.”

“Baby, don’t be silly. It’s totally fine.” Paul smiled. “I’m glad to be here. It’s better for NXT and I can pick up the keys for the new house.” Joe could hear the excitement in his voice. “I’ll take good care of you baby.” Paul kissed his temple after Joe lowered his head onto his chest. The rhythm of his heartbeat relaxed him to the point on falling asleep. Paul was content to lay in silence for a while stroking his fingers through Joe’s hair. It was crazy to think that he had wanted to hurt him, himself less than a week ago when all he wanted to do now was protect him.

The next morning, Paul woke early to go for a run. When he returned, Joe was still asleep. He made himself comfortable in the dining area and did some work on his laptop. It was about 10am when Joe padded into the kitchen wearing nothing but his house coat.

“When did you wake up?” He asked groggily. The swelling on his face was starting to go down. “About 8. I wanted to go for a run.” Paul was already preparing a pot of coffee. “You were out all night.”

“I’m still so tired. I think it’s with being in my own bed again…” Joe pulled up a chair at the breakfast bar where Paul was sat. “Here, have this. It shouldn’t be too hot.” Joe took the mug of coffee. “Thanks. What’s your plan for today?”

“Well I have a few emails to respond to this and I was gonna swing by the Performance Centre to see a few of the guys and also meet the realtor to get the keys for Piney Lane. Do you wanna come?”

“I can’t, I look terrible.” Joe frowned. “Baby, I get it. You will be back to yourself in no time. I just wanted to get you out for a little while.” Joe looked at him apologetically “Maybe when this swelling goes down. It’s just too soon.”

“Take all the time you need. There’s no rush.” Paul stroked his cheek and kissed him. “Have you heard anything more from the police?”

“Not yet but I’m on it. He hadn’t been back at his place in New York.” Paul sounded stressed. “I wish I never left you alone with him.”

“Hey, you didn’t know.” Joe tried to tell him. “I just didn’t think he would be capable of doing that. I swear if I get my hands on him-” Joe raised is hands to him. “Let’s just leave it to the cops. They know what they’re doing.”

Joe kissed Paul softly and placed his hands on his chest. “I do appreciate you being here. I just don’t want to take you away from where you need to be.”

“I don’t need to be anywhere. I want to be here with you. You need someone here to look after you.”

“I just don’t want Vince and the others to start becoming suspicious.” Joe said with concern. “They won’t baby. They trust me. I told them I would be helping you out. Besides, they know we’re friends.”

“I guess so.” Joe answered “By the way, I hope you’re still taking your medication for your anxiety?” He checked. “Yes Sir.”

“Good boy. You need it now more than ever.” Paul settled at his laptop after pouring a cup of coffee. “I’m gonna jump in the shower.” Joe told him. “OK babe.” After Joe had gone into the bathroom, his phone rang about 10 minutes later. Paul eyed it on the breakfast bar. It was Colby. He let it ring out before he called him on his own phone out in the balcony.

“Hey, are you with Joe?” He asked upon answering. “Yeah, he’s in the shower.”

“Is he OK?” Colby asked with urgency. “What do you mean?” Paul asked. “Paul, people are talking. We heard he was assaulted a few nights ago. Paul palmed his forehead “Who’s talking?”

“A few of us. Steph told me because she knows we’re close and she knows I’d suspect something if he wasn’t here tonight.”

“Shit…I told Vince to keep it quiet.” Paul said shaking his head. “Paul! Tell me. How is he?” Colby pushed. “He’s fine. He’s had surgery to repair his nose so there’s swelling. I’m just staying at his place to look after him.”

“OK well I’m in Florida next week-” Paul cut him off. “No! Don’t come. Sorry, he’s very self conscious right now.”

“Paul, I need to see him. He’s a good friend. You can’t dictate who he sees.” Colby spat.

“Look, I didn’t mean it like that. He just needs some time. He’s not in a good place and you know he’s already had problems with his anxiety. I’m trying with him.”

Colby sighed. “OK. Please take care of him.”

“You have my word. Whoever knows about this, tell them to keep their mouths shut. I don’t want this getting anywhere near the dirt sheets. It’s too much for him right now-” At that moment Paul turned to see Joe standing in the living room watching him. He hadn’t closed the door fully. Paul eyed him. “I gotta go.”

“Who was that?” He asked. “Who knows?”

“It doesn’t matter baby-” Paul tried to brush him off. “I don’t appreciate being talked about behind my back.”

“Hey wait a minute, I’m here trying to help you-” Paul started, spreading his arms. “Help me? I wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for you.”

“What the hells gotten into you!?” He raised his voice. “I don’t need you telling people about my anxiety Paul!”

“I’m sorry! If you must know, it was Colby so he already knows about it. I can’t believe you’re snapping at me like this.” He walked over to the breakfast bar and closed down his laptop. “Look you’ve gotta understand, I’m in a bad place right now…” Joe started following Paul into the spare room where his case was. “You will not talk to me like that after what I’ve done for you.”

“All you’ve done is cause me a world of fucking pain!” Joe snapped again. “You ungrateful son of a bitch.” Paul glared at him and threw the last of his things in before closing it. Joe retreated to his room and slammed the door. Paul stared at it, fuming. He wanted to kick it in but he left instead. A few minutes later, Joe came out of his room. The apartment was silent. He looked around and there was not a trace of any of Paul’s belongings. He felt a lump in his throat and moments later, burst out crying when he realised he was really gone.

#roman reigns #roman reigns fic #tribal chief #fanfiction #triple h #paul levesque #wrestling fiction

6 notes · View notes

xxisxxisxxis · 4 years

Text

Gateway Drug | Part Seventy-Five

Words: 4k

Warning(s): explicit language, domestic abuse, violence, drug abuse

Tag List: @unknownoblivion @edwardtriggerhandzz @lemmyjelly @haileynicoleseavey17 @cierrasixx19 @oskea93 @mgkobsessed @sharon6713 @itsametaphorbriansblog @miriampraez @allie-mcginn @xpoisonousrosesx @rebeccaphillips14 @nicholeh7 @lilmou5ie @tamedhearts @divaanya @6ixx6ixx @ratedrkohardychick91 @floregrohlssard @oldschoolimagineblog @thanks2pete @abaldboi @liith-ium @caos18blog @ytwahsog @scarecrowmax @random-internet-user-4471 @solohqrry @sparxx27 @kaitieskidmore1 @cruecifymesixx @meetthesixxter @sublimeprincesswasteland @arianareirg @girlnight-terror

@fancywasmyname1 @teller258316 @ggorehorror @blowinmeupwithherlove @xrosegoldwolfx @mylifeisjustafeverdream @redlipscrystalskies14 @str4nge-haze @reigns420 @sixxseconds2love @leatherandheels @dogmom2014 @allyouneedislove-mp3 @n0-self-c0ntro1

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED

"Hey, Nikki, c'mon!" The sound of Fred shouting on the other side of the bathroom door pulls me to my feet, making me swing the door open and catch myself on the side of the doorway before I can face plant.

His expression is neutral, but I see it in his eyes...he knows they're losing me. "Three more nights to go," he reminds me, "make it count."

I wipe my mouth, following him down the hallway, catching a glimpse of Vivian talking to Izzy while Steven's got his arms around her hips, pulling her to sit in his lap and she does, patting at his arms while he rests his cheek against her back and closes his eyes to rest a second as her conversation with Izzy doesn't skip a beat.

Maybe she's sleeping with all of them.

Not like it matters at this point.

We're over anyway and I'll probably be dead before either of us can even file.

She looks like she's about to look at me but I make sure to cut away from looking at her to avoid being caught, grabbing my bass from the tech as Tommy starts in on the drums, the screams of our fans echoing backstage as Mick, Vince and I head under the stage, my fingers lightly brushing against her crucifix around my neck for a split second.

I'd stolen it when I found it in Duff's bathroom...when people asked me, "dude, how'd you take that news? You kicked his ass, right? You showed that cheating bitch, right?"

Well…

The Night Before

"Hey, Nikki, man, can you help us with this?" Slash asks me once I get my room's door open, and I raise my brows.

"With what?" I reply, confused.

He motions down the hall, and I peek my head out to see Steven and Duff trying to push a desk out of Steven's room.

"We're fucking with hotel. We need help getting the desk, chair, lamp, and night stand from Steven's room into the elevator before someone needs to use it." He explains.

"So they can have a more comfortable ride." Stevie pipes with a grin.

I've been locked in my room all day and I won't get to see these guys until the end of next month starting in a few days, so…

"Hell, yeah." I agree, stepping out of the hall.

"Where's your clothes man?" I ask Duff when I get to him and Steven, helping them push the desk along the carpet, to the elevator.

He's in his boxers and a pair of his cowboy boots, and he replies, "me and this girl got in an argument and she stole my clothes."

I can't help but laugh.

Poor Duff, he's probably never dealt with crazy, vindictive, mind-screwing women before.

We get the desk and chair into the elevator before the doors try to shut, signaling someone needing to use it, and I'm snatching Steven out of there before it goes down.

Whoever the fuck uses it will probably shit a brick once they realize it's gonna be impossible to get inside without crawling over the desk.

After that, we get the elevator back pretty quick and finish the job before pressing every button in the elevator to make a stop at every floor, just to make people in need of it wait longer.

"What're you guys doing?" I hear Viv's voice and turn to see her standing in the hallway with her room door open.

"None of your fucking business." I snap at her, just as the elevator dings and the doors open to reveal all the fucking furniture, Izzy, and a groupie.

They're sitting on the desk as if it's no big deal, and Izzy hops off of it and helps his lady friend down, the two of them looking at me and the guys.

"Good one." Izzy tells us, nodding to the elevator and I chuckle as he passes by, lightly patting at my shoulder, saying, "goodnight, man."

"Children." I hear Vivian mumble, shutting her door behind her.

"She's not feeling good today." Duff tells me, trying to get me to drop it before I even pick it up.

I don't listen, stomping to her door and banging on it.

She opens it, and I sneer down at her.

"We're having fun, what the fuck makes you think you can come out and shit on it when nobody even wants you on this fucking tour to begin with?!" I bark at her.

"Nikki, all I said--"

"--I know what you fucking said because you've been saying it the past six fucking years. We get it. I get it. So just fucking drop it and mind your own goddamn business!"

She shuts the door in my face, making me kick the door, before taking a breath, and turning to see Steven, Slash, and Duff, trying not to be too uncomfortable.

"You guys got any booze?" I ask, knowing they do.

"Yeah, man." Slash nods, motioning me to Duff's room.

He hands me a bottle of Jack and I start downing it with no hesitation, wrinkling my nose at it's peculiar taste--more peculiar than usual.

"It's half Jack, half Vodka." Slash explains and I wrinkle my nose, my throat on fire as I cough.

"What the fuck?" I ask, my head swimming, and he shrugs.

"We got bored and figured we'd try it."

"Don't let Viv know. She'll pour it out." I mumble, wiping my mouth, sitting on the foot of Duff's bed as he and Steven join us.

"I know you two have a lot going on but go a little easier on her, man." Slash says to me, next.

"Yeah, you guys are our friends so seeing you fight is weird." Steven adds.

"Like watching parents try to kill each other in front of their kids." Duff states and I sigh.

"I know you guys are friends with her but you don't see what she's really like." I insist. "She's fucking nuts."

"Trust us, we know." Steven scoffs.

"She's a sweet girl, she's just going through a lot." Duff interjects, grabbing the bottle of jack/vodka from me, taking a sip for himself.

"She was a sweet girl." I argue calmly. "Breakups just fucking make people unrecognizable. I don't see the chick I proposed to. I see a wicked bitch from hell that possessed her and just uses her body as a disguise." I add.

None of them say anything, because they can't argue it.

They see how we treat each other.

It's a given I'll be an asshole, but when someone like Vivian starts spewing venom, it's because she's lost their fucking mind.

"I think I'm gonna be sick." I grumble, feeling my stomach wrench before I'm stumbling to the bathroom, vomit spewing past my lips into the toilet, my hand grasping the edge of the counter to keep myself from falling forward, the sound of the clink of metal against the floor as I accidentally knock one of Duff's necklaces to the bathroom tile.

Once I'm done puking, I take deep breaths, closing my eyes for a moment before flushing the toilet.

I reach for the necklace to put it back on the counter, before I get a good look at it.

It's a small, sparkling cross a little too dainty for Duff...my stomach drops, my mind going back to the night I first met Vivian, when I first saw it around her neck and sneered everytime I looked at it.

How she took it off before she and I fooled around for the first time, and everytime after that, until we got married…

My blood runs cold, another wave of nausea hitting me, bile rushing up in my throat before I can stop it, splattering onto the floor.

Maybe I would've been prepared had Vince told me what was going on. He'd found out after Sparkie got blacked out on smack and told him what he had discovered about saint Viv.

It felt like a twenty-five pound weight had busted my balls. I didn't have time to think about it much in the moment.

"Gross." Steven wrinkles his nose a little as he peeks in to check on me. "I'll call the cleaning people." He adds, shutting the door, and I look at the necklace one last time before tucking it into my pocket. I'll confront her with it, later.

I get out of the bathroom, Duff, Slash and Steven all looking at me.

"Dude, you alright?" Duff asks, smoking a cigarette, and I nod.

"Yeah. I just feel like shit." I reply, trying to mask the fact I just found out he's been fucking my wife. "I'm gonna go lay down for a few minutes and see if I don't feel a little better." I tell them, stepping to the door.

"Alright, man." Slash replies.

"See ya." I mumble as Steven adds, "feel better, Sixx!"

I get to my room, slamming the door, pacing, throwing my empty bottle of Jack at the wall and watching the glass shatter, my fingers raking through my hair.

How the fuck could Vivian do this to me? How could Duff? My band gave his band a shot--a good one. I thought he and I were friends. You don't fuck your friend's chick.

Okay, I fucked Roxy but that was different, I was high.

Duff isn't into hard drugs and Viv's sober so neither of them have an excuse for it.

A pit grows in my chest as I think a little more.

What if they were messing around back when she posed for Playboy? Maybe that's why he went with her…or maybe they've been at it since before Vanity let it out that me and her were together…that would explain why Viv hid him from me for so long.

My nostrils flare at the thought.

Who the fuck does she think she is?! Cheating on me?! Does she realize how many girls would love to be married to me and here she is with my own fucking buddy. Heartless cunt. And he's an ungrateful bastard. I gave his fucking band a shot at getting what they've been hungry for and this is how he repays me? Nailing my wife on the very tour I invited him to play on?

I take heavy breaths before stepping to the phone, dialing Tansy's room number.

She's supposed to be back by now from her little break, and when I hear her answer, I sigh in relief.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Tans, whatcha up to?" I ask, grin on my face, knowing exactly what she's about to be up to, if she isn't already.

Tansy and I were like arsenic and cyanide. She was like Vanity--without the batshit craziness, or the sex. We'd hang out and just spend hours getting high together. I was one of her best friends, so it should've been my job to protect her, but if that were the case, I would've been encouraging her to throw her smack and coke out, instead of always wanting to hang out just so we could get high together like it was a bonding experience or something. Yeah, seeing each other at their fucking shittiest really bonds people to one another, right.

It was a punch in the stomach when I found out about all the hell she'd gone through for years, that made her want to get lost in drugs, and eventually made her want to get lost past the confines of this life.

A majority of her friends were protective "manly" men who would fist fight a pole if need be, well, Steven, at least.

We were supposed to protect her.

And I know, "Well, you didn't know."

We would've known, had we paid more attention, and I wasn't paying attention because I was like a woodpecker with its head in a branch, except my head was in a pile of smack.

I hang my head over the toilet, vomit pouring from my lips as my head reels with dizziness, my veins aching as Tansy rests against the bathtub, slobber rolling down her chin from being in the same position I'm in only a few seconds ago.

Our burnt spoons and sharp smelling foils are left to the floor as we're taken over by a monster bigger than ourselves, the sound of Slash, Steven, Duff, and Vivian's laughter from the hallway creeping past my door, slipping under the bathroom's door, pushing through the smoke and mirrors, nearly shattering my high before it even has its full start.

The next night results in the same outcome, only this time, I've decided to pick myself up with help from my favorite smoke, except the hit from the crackpipe comes with the expected.

Sweat beads down my back as I shake, curled up in the bathtub with the shower's curtain pulled, hearing the footsteps of my room's intruder.

"Nikki?" A familiar voice calls softly, but the demon in my ear overpowers my want to go to her.

I curl further into myself, squeezing my eyes closed, my shaking hand gripping at the cross around my neck that belongs to her.

"If you're real just make it go away." I'm saying before I can stop myself. "Help me cut this shit, and give me my wife back."

I knew I hit rock bottom when I prayed to a God I didn't even believe in…and I guess, in the end, my prayer was answered, but fuck if I didn't get in my own way.

I finally coax myself out of the tub after a few more minutes, seeing the light is off in my room under the door, before I open the bathroom door, my hair standing on end, my bare, ragged feet moving as quietly as I can move them as I pad onto the carpet, stepping to the bed where a figure is laid out, the shine of red hair across a pillow radiating from the bathroom light drifting into the room. Peaceful, sleeping features show no threat, but something wicked is beating in my head as I slowly approach her, my boney knuckle rubbing at her cheek, slowly, opting a tired, soft moan to leave her, her body shifting before stilling.

I know it's bullshit. It's a facade. I know she's waiting for me to fall out so she can leech off of me.

Fucking witch.

If I pass out, she'll strike, and I won't make it out alive.

Her nails are clawing blood from my arms as she gasps out, kicking her feet when my hands lock around her throat, my eyes glossing over as she tries to scream out.

Her hand bangs, hard, against the wall the bed is against, her hands trying to fight me off as tears roll down her cheeks, her face beginning to turn a deeper shade of red.

"Nikki, what the--Nikki, what the fuck?!" I hear Fred's voice, but I hear it as if I'm under water, my focus captivated completely as my eyes burn into Vivian's before I'm being snatched off of her and thrown into the floor.

She's a coughing, gagging, gasping, crying mess.

"What the fuck, Nikki?!" Fred yells at me and I look at Vivian.

It's as if I'm coming back to myself, the reality of what I just tried to do…

What the fuck, Nikki? You already fucking shot her, and now this? If you don't get your shit together you won't have a fucking wife to patch things up with!

What am I saying? I already don't. She's fucking Duff.

She's legally married to me, but emotionally she's already been single for months, now.

I didn't strangle her because I was pissed over Duff. I strangled her because in my fucked up paranoia I was convinced she was going to kill me, first.

The truth was she wasn't. Duff, on the other hand, definitely considered it once he found out. But I don't blame him for it, now.

The next night, I feel my lip curl as I spot greasy, unkept hair, and scabbed, yellow skin.

Sparkie's smoking a cigarette, his arm around Tansy.

Its fucking pathetic.

He's contributing to her demise--if not the reason it kickstarted in the first place--and she still looks at him like he's the only dude on the fucking planet and she can't get enough.

My mind drifts to what would happen if by freak chance Vivian did decide to try something with him.

It makes my skin crawl to think of Vivian in the same position as Tansy: doped up, exhausted to the point she can't fight back when she's pimped out by him, worn down…

The mere idea of it makes bile rise to the back of my throat.

The fact Tansy's gone through it only adds to my nausea.

I hold it in and step past them, glaring at Sparkie.

"Stay away from my fucking wife." I threaten him and he flinches a little.

Pussy.

I spot Axl shooting a death glare at him from the corner of my eye.

He looks pissed as a hornet, his sharp jaw clenching and unclenching as Vince and Tommy walk past him to get ready to go on stage.

I hear Skylar crying from the dressing room with Sharise--they came down a few nights ago.

I look back to Axl, tension getting tighter and tighter in his body.

All it takes is Sparkie clapping his hands one good, loud, time, just to see Tansy's jittering, withdrawal-beginning, body nearly jump out of it's own skin.

This does it.

Out of fucking nowhere Axl is tackling him like a linebacker, not giving the walking incarnate of an STD time to think before he's beating the shit--literal, shit--out of him, the putrid smell taking up space backstage, making me and the guys gag as Fred, Doc, and Izzy try to get the pissed redhead off the junkie.

I expect Tansy to be screaming or crying like usual when someone gives Sparkie what his punk-ass deserves, but she makes no protest to Axl.

I immediately look away when Viv comes into the picture, a look of worry on her face as Axl yells: "Bitchy little princess, I'll give you a fucking reason to go fucking shoot up!"

The smell of Sparkie's shit continues to permeate the area as Doc and Fred get him away from Axl.

Tansy just stands still, her big, blue eyes blinking at Axl.

I meet Vivian's gaze, noticing the cake of makeup covering her neck, and a pit is dug into my stomach.

Fuck.

"Dude, you good?" Tommy asks me, and I nod.

"Yeah, just grossed out." I mumble, seeing Izzy leaning against the wall, dry heaving from the smell as Viv and Duff coax Axl down the hall to their dressing room.

Me, the guys, Emi and Donna all get into position, and I try to shake off all the shit that's happened, because we need to have a kickass show.

As soon as mine and Mick's cue hits, and I'm face-to-face with thousands of people who all want a piece of me, I can't control uneasiness of my stomach, and when I take a moment to grab a drink of water, my throat ignites when I down a gulp of vodka, instead.

What the fuck?

I figure it's set aside for Mick, and try not to let it happen again.

Only I do.

Repeatedly throughout the show.

And that on top of smack, on top of the Jack Tommy and I chug during part of the show, leaves me sloppy as hell and stumbling off stage come curtain call.

I see two Duff's stomping over to me, looking the most mean I've seen him ever look, Vivian on his heels.

"Hey, man, wha--"

I don't have time to finish my question.

He knocks the shit out of me in the blink of an eye, and I stumble back, not able to react in time before he's shoving through Fred and Doc, giving another punch to my cheek, but I strike back this time, twice, before he just starts waylaying me relentlessly, Vivian screaming, stupid enough to try to get between us before Izzy's yanking her away.

I feel my skin split under the pressure of one of Duff's rings, my vision spotty before he's thrown back by Fred and Axl.

"You mother fucker!" He screams at me viciously as Doc comes to my side. "You stay the fuck away from her, you understand me?!"

"Duff, it was an accident!" Vivian cries out hoarsely.

"Look at your fucking neck! How is that a fucking accident?!" He's so pissed he's nearly in tears, too, and I feel my heart pound as I see where the makeup has been smeared off of Vivian's neck, revealing dark bruises in the shape of my fingers.

"He was high!" Vivian insists.

"He was high when he shot you, he was high when he proposed to another woman, he's high everytime he treats you like shit, he was high when he fucking tried to kill you last night…" Duff rambles off, his face bright red. "...Stop excusing his bullshit with 'he was high', he's not high--that's just who the fuck he is, now!" He shouts, her feelings hurt from the looks of her expression.

"Come on over here and see who the fuck I am, now!" I can't help but to spit out, even though I'm in no position to win a fight.

"No, no!" Fred scolds as he and Doc are in front of me while Steven and Axl stay with Duff, trying to calm him down.

First Axl and Sparkie, now me and Duff, all in one night.

I bet Fred and Doc regret bringing them on tour, too, because I sure as shit do.

If I felt like arguing anymore I'd ask Duff how my balls taste since that's where Vivian's mouth spent a good amount of time the past six years...if I wanted them to know that I know about them, I'd say it.

If I knew it would make a difference, I would.

But I know it won't, so I keep my mouth shut.

#gateway drug #nikki sixx #mötley crüe #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx x oc

49 notes · View notes

livingmybestfictionallife · 4 years

Text

Live Wire --The Dirt--13

Summary: Wren Ledden, Tommy’s best friend from high school, has had a rough life, and she intends to keep the nitty gritty details of her suffrage to herself until the day she dies. Only Tommy has gotten her to open up about a small portion of her troubles, and it’s only Tommy who she trusts with her life. That is until her life gets turned around sneaking into a concert one night…the same night Motley Crue is born.

Warning! This chapter contains attempted physical abuse. Please be cautious when reading if this triggers you.

A/N: Idk if the slow pace is killing anyone or if you’re liking not having time jumps, so let me know because I’m debating adding a time jump, but I don’t really have to. Please respond with any feedback!

Previous Chapters: Masterlist

Nikki grumbled as he rolled over in bed, the uncomfortably cinched leather pants from last night still clung to his legs, and slowly, last night returned to him. Vince’s dumb ass shooting coke in the bathroom, Wren angrily disposing of the coke he and Tommy were snorting, him yelling at her, her storming off to her room after slamming a man into the ground, and him going to bed shortly after, still fuming.

As he attempted to stand, his brain pounded against his skull and a straining pain pierced through his eyes. A groan escaped his lips as he felt the alcohol and cocaine hangover in his gut and head. The only solace from his pain was the intoxicating aroma of coffee that drifted through the crack under his door. Slowly, Nikki stood and made his way towards the kitchen, silently hoping he wouldn’t encounter a soul. As his sock-clad feet fell along the carpeted hallway, his frustration with Wren grew as his presence in the living room brought back all the anger he felt the previous night. He knew she was already awake. The lingering aroma of coffee had woken him up, and at first it was comforting, a sensuous reminder of her—mint and coffee either together or apart always led to him thinking of Wren—but as the image of her fist colliding against that man’s face flooded his mind, Nikki couldn’t control the boiling in his blood.

He couldn’t put his finger on why it bothered him so much. He knew Wren was hot headed, that she has reacted violently out of anger before, and that her ability stand her ground had even been something that he admired about her. Why was last night different for him? Why did the smell of coffee leave a hardened knot twisting around in his stomach? Why did he not want to see her? As Nikki found his way into the kitchen, he poured himself a bowl of cereal and lingered in the crevices of the apartment where he hoped she wouldn’t see him.

Suddenly, all of Nikki’s other senses began to overpower those of smell, and he was able to push the scent of coffee from his mind. As he scanned the kitchen, guilt fell over him as he realized Wren had cleaned up the mess he, Tommy, and Vince along with their guests had made the night before. His hands shook slightly as he held the bowl, a side effect from the anxiety he felt as well as the craving he had to drink in order to forget his frustration with Wren and hers with him. His ears could hardly pick up the steady patter of water through the wall behind him as well as the high-pitched squeak that follows when someone turns off the shower. Quickly, Nikki placed his bowl on the counter and desperately searched the apartment for any trace of Tommy—maybe it was him and not her in the shower. Maybe she was gone already. Be serious, where would she have to go? Where would you have to go?

Wren shoved a towel along her limbs and sighed in frustration as she realized the towel wasn’t drying her, rather it was pushing all of the residual water from her skin to the floor. Fuck it, she thought as she examined the puddle around her feet and quickly tied her hair up in the towel, one of the other assholes who live here can clean it. She slipped her legs into her shorts and pulled them up to her waist before she shoved her arms into the sleeves of a t-shirt and shimmied it down her body. She stepped out of the bathroom and wrung the ends of her hair out in the towel, paced past her room and through the apartment to hang the towel over the banister outside to dry. Only upon re-entering her home did she realize she was no longer alone.

“Oh, hey,” she said softly upon noticing the flattened mop of raven-dyed hair poking out from the kitchen.

“Hey,” Nikki offered apathetically in return. He didn’t turn to face her, look her in the eye, or even speak her name. Wren held her tongue. Don’t over react. He’s a dumbass who got wasted last night. He’s just hungover, she tried to reason away Nikki’s obviously sour attitude, but on some level, she was even more angry with him now than she was the night before.

“What time were you wanting to work on some new stuff? I have to call the Roxy at some point today, but that’s all I—”

“I’m not feeling it today.” Whether or not he meant for that simple sentence to cut down any semblance of civility Wren was upholding, Nikki succeeded in pressing a button he knew would cause her to self-destruct.

“You’re ‘not feeling it’,” she mimicked with a tinge of venom in her voice. “What does that mean?”

“It means I’m not in the mood,” Nikki hissed in return as he threw his plastic bowl in the sink and allowed the spoon to clink and clang around in a fury.

“Probably because your dumbass decided to do coke last night,” Wren hissed under her breath as she lowered herself onto the armrest of the couch and folded her arms across her chest.

“Why is that such a big fucking deal to you?” Nikki gasped as his voice raised in aggravation.

“Why is it such a big deal for you?!” Wren snapped in return as she narrowed her eyes and furrowed her brows at him. Both Wren and Nikki glared at one another with their jaws clenched, eyes narrowed, and noses pointed directly ahead. Tunnel vision enveloped them as they spouted insults across the room, and neither noticed Tommy had emerged from Wren’s room wearing nothing by his underwear and a hesitant expression as he examined the scene before him.

“It’s not,” Nikki grumbled as he defiantly took a step forward.

“Then cut that shit out! The band isn’t nearly successful enough for you to fuck it up for us!” Wren snapped.

“For me to fuck it up? I’m on that stage every night playing, what are you doing?!” Wren pursed her lips and sighed heavily in retaliation of Nikki’s words.

“Hey, come on, man. Knock it off,” Tommy’s voice was barely enough to cut through the bellowing from either of his closest friends.

“I’m getting you gigs! I’m marketing you sorry, coke shooting fucks!” Wren jumped up and shouted in response to Nikki’s jaded comment.

“It’s just coke! It’s not amphetamines or fucking heroine! So get that stick out of your ass and back off!” Nikki shouted his hostile words across the three feet that separated them.

“Dude, leave her alone,” Tommy immediately stated as he stepped between the two.

“Come on, Tommy,” Nikki grumbled at the lanky teen pretending to be a barrier between him and Wren. “Clearly she doesn’t need you, or anyone to fight her battles.”

“Yelling at her doesn’t do anything but make her even more mad! You’re just pissing her off to have her pissed off, Nik!”

“Is that what you’re in a mood about?” Wren scoffed as she poked her head out from behind Tommy.

“You made me look like some weak punk!” Nikki countered with fury in his eyes. “You made me look like I need a girl to fight my damn battles when I was headed over there to help you.” Wren folded her arms tightly across her chest and met Nikki’s eyes once Tommy had fallen back to stand beside her.

“I’m not going to pretend to be weak and defenseless to boost your ego! You were piss drunk and fucking high! You could barely stay standing let alone do any real damage to that asshole,” Wren huffed as she paced towards the front door, grabbed her sneakers, and jammed them onto her feet. “Fuck this. I don’t have to sit here and listen to you bitch at me for dumb shit you can’t even vocalize to me because you’re too high at the time to process your emotions,” she grumbled as she tied her laces tight against her feet and swung the door open before taking off down the steps and through the street in a light jog.

Tommy lowered his eyes and pursed his lips so that he was glaring an Nikki. His long brown hair was stringy with sweat from last night’s performance, he needed a shower, and he was expected to be at a girl’s house in less than two hours, yet there he stood, grimacing at the oldest person who lives in their apartment for being a dumbass.

“Get off my dick, Tommy,” Nikki groaned in irritation at the look on Tommy’s face.

“She’s only pissed because she gives a shit about you, you dumbass,” Tommy stated as he punched Nikki in the arm hard enough to make him realize how much of an ass he was being. “She’s pissed because she gives a shit about all of us, about the band,” his voice trailed off as he continued to explain to Nikki the way Wren’s emotional reactions work. “You were a dick, asking her what she’s doing for us. She’s doing more than either you or I could and you just shit on that! I told you from the beginning, she’s a deal-breaker. You don’t get to treat her like shit when she’s just trying to protect Mötley. Wren is choosing to be here, choosing to help Vince with vocals, to help write with you, to help us fucking make it. She could be finishing her Bachelor’s degree somewhere on a full-ride scholarship, but she’s here. She doesn’t fucking need us. We need her!”

“So, I’m not allowed to have a problem with her every now and then? I’m just supposed to get over it if she does something that pisses me off?” Nikki scoffed.

“Yelling at her only makes things worse for both of you. Just talk to her. You’re twenty-three, Nikki. Do you honestly mean to say that a twenty-year-old girl is more capable of responding like an adult than you are?” Tommy sneered as he retreated to Wren’s room to grab a change of clothes from the dresser.

“Wren’s nineteen, just like you,” Nikki’s voice traveled through the rooms of the apartment and into Tommy’s ears.

“No, she’s twenty. Yesterday was her birthday you asshole! You need to make this right.”

*** *** *** *** *** ***

Wren carefully counted her paces as she ran in order to make sure she was breathing in and out on opposite feet. In school and sports, she hated running, but sometime during her last year of high school, she began to see running as something therapeutic. She cherished her alone time, but often hated to be stuck with her thoughts for longer than a moment. Running seemed like the only solution at the time; not only does she get to be alone and distracted from her thoughts, but she also gets to have the sensation as if she’s running away from her problems. She knew that she would have to go back to the apartment at some point and that like herself, Nikki has no where else in the world to be. It was inevitable that they’d cross paths again in the next ten or twenty minutes, but at least by then she’ll be too tired to fight with him.

After going south on Clark street, cutting behind the Whisky A Go Go, turning south again on Hilldale avenue, and running along the Sunset boulevard until she passed the Roxy, Wren turned around. She still had to call the Roxy, and although she was already at the venue, she didn’t want to represent the band as a sweaty jogger. Still not quite ready to end her run, Wren decided to lengthen her route by continuing north on Hilldale until it intersected with Ozetea Terrace, and then turn right and head south on Clark street.

As she grew closer to the apartment, Wren could make out a vehicle parked along the back side of the apartment building. A black, 1975 GMC pick-up truck was barely visible, and Wren decided to quicken her pace. It wasn’t uncommon to notice strange cars in strange places in Los Angeles, but due to her time living alone on the streets, she was privy to the any danger that could that present itself from that situation. As she approached the stairs leading up to her apartment, Wren noticed the silhouette of a man leaning against the building. He was of relative height and weight, yet everything about him was too familiar. Hazel eyes poked out from strands of long, mousy brown hair that fell over his face, and his hollow cheeks seemed to fill once Wren had finally returned to the building.

“A friend told me where I could find you.” His voice brought back memories of not being able to breathe, of being thrown around, hit, and overpowered. A small, weak, ‘no’ fell from her lips as Wren dashed for the stairs. “You’re not getting away that easy this time!” he growled as Wren hurried to leap up the steps three at a time. She could feel his slender and grubby fingers graze her leg as she took her last two leaps and strides up the stairs and sharply kicked back in defense.

After flinging open the door and closing it shut behind her, Wren cursed her roommates for deciding to take the locks off the door for the party last night. “Tommy!” Wren called out and quickly scanned the room in search of her friend. Quickly, the footsteps outside grew heavier and heavier as Clay came closer to catching her. Heart pounding and tears threatening to spill from her eyes, Wren sprinted through the apartment to the very last room, Nikki’s room. She opened the door and slammed it shut and hastily attempted to turn the lock between her shaking hands. “Nikki I--”

“What do you want? An apology?” he hissed without even looking up from the guitar he held in his hands.

“Please, Nikki,” Wren pleaded as her shaking hands caused the already loose door handle to jiggle uncontrollably.

“I’m not just going to forgive you for--” Nikki’s voice faltered when he finally brought his eyes to the woman before him. Her normally porcelain features were phantom white, her eyes were coated with a heavy veil of tears that she refused to let fall, and he could feel the anxiety and adrenaline that pulsed within her veins as if they were his own. He’d never seen anyone look as terrified as she did in that moment, and her fear put their spat into perspective. She needed him and that was all that mattered. “Wren, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“He’s here,” she panted through deep breaths.

“Who’s here? In the house?” At his words, the pair could hear a fist begin to pound on Wren’s bedroom door.

“I told you I would find you,” Clay hissed as crashing sounds began to occur around the house. He was moving around, searching for her, invading all privacy of their home.

Nikki noticed Wren had frozen the moment she heard his voice. She stopped trying to lock the door, she stopped shaking, she almost stopped breathing in an attempt to be so quiet she couldn’t be found. Throughout the silence of the room, he could hear the steady rise in the sound of footsteps as the man neared where Wren had run to for safety. In a swift movement, Nikki hurried towards Wren, grabbed her by the arms, and pulled her away from the door. As he pushed her behind him, he could feel her fingers tighten around his and the shakiness of her hands from earlier manifested in her grip. He knew she wasn’t capable of letting go of him in that moment, which would make fighting this asshole fairly difficult, so he was careful to keep his bass within reach. As both Nikki and Wren watched the door knob turn and the door creep open, they each tightened their grasp on one another; one in desperate need of support, and the other assuring he wasn’t going anywhere.

“There you are,” the intruder sighed as he locked his sights onto Wren. “Come on, you know we have some unfinished business to get back to.”

“You need to leave,” Nikki stated firmly as he glared at the man before him. He couldn’t have been older than twenty-one or twenty-two, but the small scars on his face made him appear older.

“And what are you going to do about it?” Clay huffed at Nikki, indifferent to his presence.

“Get the hell off this property and stay the fuck away from her, and in return, I won’t kill you where you stand.”

“Really, Wrenny? You’re going to let this guy speak for you?” Clay scoffed as he peered past Nikki and at the sweaty, broken woman behind him.

“Leave me alone,” Wren stated, and although her voice was firm and unwavering, her hands trembled within Nikki’s. At her words, Clay began to make his way forwards. Step by step, he closed in on Wren, even with Nikki acting as a human shield between the two. Nikki pulled his hand free from Wren’s grasp and threw a solid punch in Clay’s direction. His knuckles cracked when his hand collided with the side of Clay’s face, and Nikki let out a brief shout.

“Run! Go!” Taking heed of his instructions, Wren managed to slip past the two men just as Clay’s fist made contact with Nikki’s face.

“Nikki,” she called out, only to hear him repeatedly yelling for her to run away. Wren tried to take off in a sprint, but not even a second after Clay punched Nikki across the face, he shoved him against the bed and turned to chase Wren. Throwing himself after her in a full-fledged dive, Wren felt her body collide with the ground as another body was pressed against hers. A hand found her breast while another groped along her stomach and ribcage as she writhed beneath the weight of his body and the weight of his torment. As quickly as his body landed on her, it was shoved away. Wren scurried away from where she lay and retreated back into the safety of Nikki’s room to try and keep herself from breaking down. Her breaths were choppy and incomplete, her heart thumped and pounded as if it were that of a racehorse after a derby, and her stomach was emptier than it had ever been, yet it churned with the urge to vomit.

With each passing second, Nikki’s hands began to ache more and more as they took turns striking each side of Clay’s face. Right and then left, right and then left, right, left, right, left; one after the other, Nikki pounded into Clay’s skin until he begged for mercy. Wren saw nothing. She didn’t see Nikki brutally beat Clay for attacking her, she didn’t see him retreat from their home, she couldn’t even hear Nikki’s screams as Clay ran from the apartment and down the stairs to his vehicle. She had her back pressed against the wall and her side pressed against the mattress on the opposite side of the room as the door, attempting to hide from the initial line of sight as she scraped the tears from her eyes and tried her hardest to steady her hands. For a long time, she could feel nothing other than the beat of her own heart and the deep inhales of her own breaths, or at least until Nikki entered the room.

Bloodied, beaten, and bruised, Nikki made his way to where Wren sat. His arms wasted no time in snaking around her back, his head hurried to rest on her shoulder, and his chest ached to be against hers. All he wanted was to reassure her that she was safe. His insecurities from earlier were moot, his anger with her and hers with him had all faded away into dust. Without thinking, Wren crawled closer to Nikki so that she sat on his lap and clung to him as if her life depended on it. A smile crossed his lips and he held her even closer than he had before. Every now and then a hot tear would connect with his skin, but slowly, her tears stopped, her breathing stabilized, and they were simply holding each other. All Nikki wanted was to stay in that moment, and so he held his arms tightly around the woman he never wanted to let go of, and prayed with all his might to anyone who would listen to please not take her away.

Continued Reading: Chapter 14

Tags: @prettyyoungandbored, @hot-young-runningfree, @crue-sixx, @oskea93, @dancergirl5527, @thatonemoviefan, @motley-queen, @american-satanxx, @infernalrats, @gothpanda

11 notes · View notes