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sofasoap · 1 year ago

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Lastochka AU - Strange marriage

Pairing : Nikolai x F!Reader ( OC/Mini MacTavish)

Summary: He wants you, and maybe you want him too?

AU to my Lastochka series

WARNING: Mature to Explicit Theme. Crack Fic. I repeat. Crack fic. don’t take it so seriously. Swearing, talk of gore, Smutty smut talks.

A/N : The meaningless crack plot continues. I seriously don't know how. Thanks to @siilvan for listening to my weird blabbering on Nik, @nrdmssgs giving me correct Russian words.

masterlist

You are lying in your bed. Staring at the ceiling.

Naked.

With Nikolai’s face buried between your breasts, arms holding you tight, lightly snoring away.

How did you two get into this situation?

Why did you even say yes to marrying him? To a man that you haven’t even gone on a third date with?

“So what do you say, Lastochka, will you marry me?” Nikolai stood there, with his arms crossed, a scheming smile on his face.

You blinked your eyes a few times before turning towards the ruined carpet.“..... get someone to clean up the carpet first before we discuss marriage please. I am going to lose my bond money because of that.”

Nikolai let out a barking laugh and shook his head, amused by your response. “Oh my dear, dear Lastochka.” he chuckled as he took a step closer, gently pulling you into him.“Whatever my little bird wants, she will get it. Come. Let’s get you back into bed. You must be tired. I’ll deal with all this tomorrow. Don’t worry about it.”

Exhaustion overtook you as you lean into his chest, eyes slowly fluttering close. Getting chased, getting shot at, seeing your date’s (delicious) near naked body, people breaking into your house and dying in it, plus marriage proposal. It’s been a long day.

You woke up to an empty bed.

With a half awakened brain, you started to wonder if the events from the previous day were all but a dream. Until you hear slight clinking noises coming from your kitchen, and the faint smell of cigarette and musky cologne on your bed sheet reassures you that, in fact, everything that happened was real.

Slowly strolling out of your bedroom, yawning and scratching your head, you notice the glasses on the floor have been cleared away and a slight cold breeze blowing through the broken window.

You shivered slightly as you dragged your wearily body towards the kitchen. Some caffeine will do you good. That’s when you notice Nikolai’s standing in front of the stove, pouring some freshly made coffee into a mug. Your mind starts to wander again.

Nikolai wakes you up with kisses on your face, murmuring into your ears, with his low and husky morning voice, telling you how much he wants you,how much he lov..…..

Snapping back to reality again with Nikolai now standing in front of you, two cups of coffee in hand, eyebrows cocking up with a worried look as you stood there, zoning out.

“Morning Lastochka. Had a good sleep?” he greeted you after you rubbed your eyes, distracting yourself from spiralling down a rabbit hole of unrealistic thoughts. Oh the voice, that husky voice, just as you have imagined, making you want to drag him into your room and do unspeakable things.

Damn it, lusting after him again. Grabbing the coffee as you fidget around restlessly, not daring to look at his face nor trusting your voice without blurting out your unhinged thoughts, you let out a little squeak of confirmation after taking a sip of the coffee.

“Good. I have organised someone to come over to get everything fixed when we are out.” Nik said as he made himself comfortable on the breakfast bar stool. Awkward silence ensues between the two of you as he stares at you.

“So…” you perked up, breaking the silence. “About the question from last night..” you trailed off, not quite knowing how to proceed. Nikolai's eyes opened wide, as if he just remembered something.

“Oh, that reminded me. Be right back.” he strides back towards the bedroom, and appears again, minutes later. He proceeds to kneel in front of you, with a ring in hand. “Got to do this properly. Now, my lovely Lastochka, would you marry me? For your own protection? ”

“Where did you get the ring from?!!” you gaped, reeling.

“Somewhere.” he shrugged, not elaborating more. This man just keeps bringing you surprises after surprises, first crashing into your life with his crazy driving, taking you on a surprise date (you still need to plot your revenge against Kyle and the Captain for that, you reminded yourself), and now, where the hell did he manage to produce that ring,out of thin air? Has he been carrying it around with him all this time, or he just kept it in some mysterious space that you don’t know about?

“Don’t like it? I can get a new one, you pick.” he commented as he saw you staring at the ring, frowning. “Oh, no. No, It’s beautiful, I am just admiring the design..it’s fine.” you replied hastily, shaking your head, reassuring him.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” he asked with a hint of hope in his voice.

Closing your eyes letting out a sigh, before you opened it again, to point at your left hand and give him your reply. “Just put that ring onto my finger Nikolai.” you are so sure you are going to regret this later down the track.

The brilliant smile that appeared on his face made you swoon slightly. He carefully slides his ring onto your finger, and holds it up to his lip, kissing it lightly, all the while keeping his eye on yours.

“Not going to give your fiancée a kiss on the lip?” you quipped, “To celebrate our engagement?” One thing you have noticed, after each date, he doesn’t give you a proper kiss on the lip. He would hold you close, kiss your hand, your head, or the most, just lightly on your cheek. What is holding him back?

“I am saving that for much later.” as he replies, you can feel his hand that’s grasping yours tightens up.

“You scared?” you taunted, deciding to be a bit brave, pushing him a little bit.

Nikolai stood up all of sudden, startling you. As he leaning down close to your face, lips a few inches away from yours, he voice drops impossibly low, dripping with want and lust.

“OH my Lastochka, you know why I've been holding back?” he purred, one hand sliding up your arm, your neck and cupping your face, sending shivers down your spine. “Once I start, there will be no holding back. You will be screaming out loud, begging for mercy, and crawling back for more..” he warned.

“Sounds like my cup of tea.” you smirked. Game on. If he is issuing you a challenge, thinking you are some weak damsel that can’t take a bit of pounding. “Let's see if you can satisfy my appetite with what you got, милый.” you deliberately punctuated the endearment in Russian, retorting him.

He growls as he pulls you closer, body impossibly tight against his. “If I was you, I wouldn’t throw down your gauntlet so easily.“ he warned, giving you one more chance to decline. Oh, he is definitely turned on. You can feel the hardness through the pants. Maybe you should play with him a little bit more.

You pushed yourself away from him,letting out a dramatic sigh.“On second thought, maybe we should get married first, before we do anything..out of wedlock.” you said, patting on the face. “I’ll go get ready for our important day, I am sure you want your fiancée to look presentable for the big day?” With that note, you turned back towards your bedroom, leaving a half stunned and roused Nikolai standing in the middle of the living room.

Only if you know what awaits you that night.

“You think it's fun being a tease, Lastochka?” You stared at your… now officially husband, through your half lidded eyes.

As soon as both of you passed through the threshold of your apartment door, he pushed you against the wall, grinding you.

“It’s called getting you into the mood, dear husband.” you replied with an airy voice, fiddling with his gold chain. “Besides, who was the one that kept groping my ass while the celebrant was going through the paperworks?”

“Oh look who's talking?” he smirked, "I distinctly remember my lovely wife’s wandering hand touching me, while begging to be taken before we got home?”

“Oh shut up and kiss me, Nikolai.” you huffed, yanking him down lightly by his gold chain. “And show me a good time, like you promised. Or are you all talk and no show?”

His mouth descended on you before you could react. And it’s not the gentle, loving kiss he gave you at the registry office. This a lust, longing, want, and desire, pouring through the searing kiss. He isn’t holding back this time.

The two of you tearing each other's clothes off as both of you stumble towards the bedroom, mouth only left each other as you spotted the now spotless living room through your peripheral vision.

“Oh, the window and carpet are all fixed up.” you commented, panting away. “Look better than before too.”

“Eyes on me, Lastochka, the carpet isn’t gonna give you a good time, I am. “ he gently grabbed your face, turning your attention back. “ Unless you want me to take you on the floor in front of the window..” he snickered as he made the suggestion.

“Save your back ,old man, I think the bed will be more comfortable for you.” you retorted as your hand searched for the door knob to your bedroom behind your back. He reached over and helped you open it. That’s odd, you thought. You don’t remember shutting the bedroom door before you left the apartment….

Your eyes widened with surprise as you turned around, freshly made bed with rose petals scattered around the top of your bed, incense candles with your favourite scent…..

…. With five boxes of condoms and a large bottle of lubricant sitting on the side table.

“Like my surprise?” Nikolai whispered as he looped his arm around your waist from behind, kissing your neck, eliciting a small whimper from you.

“So confident that we will need that many condoms?” you huffed as you try to control your breathing, getting more and more turned on as his hand wandered further down towards your now dripping core.

“Ah, my Lastochka,” one hand travels back up, brushes past your nipple, making you shiver as he grabs your chin, “ You did request me to satisfy your very big appetite, and who am I to deny my beautiful wife’s request?” he responded with a hint of arrogance.

“Being cocky with your mouth now are we? Now let’s see that real cock of yours is just as clever as the one above.”

You have to admit, you actually like the romantic touch, despite taking a jab at his effort.

No, the sensible side chided you. He is doing this because he is luring you into bed ( which is doing quite successfully) giving you a good time, protecting you from other strange mobs with the marriage of convenience. You reminded yourself, to keep resisting the urge of falling deeper for this man. Just think of it as a one night stand, once off friend with benefits. Until he slides his fingers between your wet folds, teasing your clit with his thumb. Ok, maybe you wouldn't mind having this more often. Keeping him in your bed seems like a good idea.

The moment his cock was fully presented to you, in all its glory, lust triumphs over logic. How he fills you, makes you scream out for him, melting with his touch. You even manage to put his ego in check with him whimpering underneath you a few times, riding him hard.

As you slowly drift off to sleep with his light snoring and rumbling vibration as a calm and soothing presence, you work hard pushing away that little bubbling warm feeling in the corner of your heart. You don’t want to think about it now. Denial switch flipped on.

One thing for sure, you want that cock all for yourself, on call, 24/7, for the rest of your life.

“So, what’s been happening?” Gaz asked as he settled himself on the stool, pushing your pint of beer towards you. “I haven’t seen you in a few months, it’s good to catch up again.”

Nodding him a thanks, you took a gulp of the beer before you answered his question.

“Well… Work has been busy. House got broken into as you probably heard from Price.. And Oh, I got married.” you tried to pass the news off nonchalantly, eyeing your friend’s reaction from the corner of your eyes.

Gaz spat out his beer.

“Could you repeat that?!” he gaped at you, beer dribbling out from his mouth, in disbelief.

“I, um, got married? And please wipe your mouth Kyle…” you replied meekly while passing him a napkin. You held out your left hand out, showing him the engagement ring and wedding band. Gaz grabbed hold of your hand, staring at the ring close up, with a confused expression.

“But, how, when,why, where,what… wait. Most importantly, WHOM WITH?”

Before you could open your mouth again, you felt a pair of arm snakes around your waist, followed by kisses peppering your cheek.

“Hello my Lastochka, sorry I am late. Had few businesses to take care of first..” Nikolai purred, “Oh hi, Gaz.” he greets Gaz, like an afterthought.

“Wait, him?!!!” Gaz pointed at Nikolai, utterly shocked. You smack at Nikolai’s hand that is subtly gliding towards your thigh as you roll your eyes.

“Yes, him. Why are you acting all surprised? You were the one that introduced me to him.” You plaster on an exaggerated and annoyed smile on your face. You finally got your revenge on him. You will never admit to him, not even a little, that his years of matchmaking effort finally paid off.

“Who’s surprised? What is going on?” Soap and Ghost appeared behind you and Nikolai, cutting into the conversation.

“Ah! There is my lovely brother in law!’ Nikolai’s arm let go of you, turned towards Soap and scoop him up into a bear hug, taking him by surprise. Grabbing him by the shoulder after letting him go, Nikolai laughed and dragged Soap towards the bar area, “Come! We have a bit of celebration to do today. Drinks on me! You should know what the best vodka tastes like and you will never want to touch whisky again!.”

Still out of the loop and confused on what is happening, Soap looked back at you for an answer, you just shrugged your shoulders and let your husband drag him away.

Oh well, at least your new husband is having bonding time with his new in-law.

Shaking your head, you turned back towards Ghost, “Sorry, you gonna have to deal with his hungover tomorrow.” you apologised.

“Nothing new.” he grumbled as he took his seat beside Gaz, elbowing him to knock him out of his shock. “Congratulations by the way.”

“Thank you. Just got to tell my parents now.”You sighed. Something you are not looking forward to. Their daughter got married all of sudden, to someone who they never met before. Oh well, you can use Johnny as an excuse, at least he knows Nikolai well enough.

“I am not helping you with that.” Ghost quickly replied, not wanting to get into the mess of things.

“Hey! Not fair, I helped you and Johnny!” you pouted. Damn it, you were hoping he could help you to convince your parents. “At least they knew about my existence beforehand.” he grumbled, still refusing to get involved.

You pulled Ghost’s sleeves. “Come on.. “ Half begging him while putting on your best puppy eyes. “How can you refuse my request???”

“Come on what? Sorry I am late.” Price appeared beside the table, apologising. “Why is Nikolai doing vodka shots with Soap?”

AH, here comes your next victim, you turned towards Price, with plastering a sickly sweet smile on your face, Price frowned, instincts from years of battlefield experiences had his alarm bell ringing.

“Now… wouldn’t you want to know…say, you feel like taking a trip with us to Scotland?”

You ended up dragging the whole team to your parent’s farm, as your backup as you introduce your new “husband” to them.

Tag list:

@homicidal-slvt @nrdmssgs @siilvan @roosterr

@preciouslittlecreature @jynxmirage@gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot

@whydoilikewhump

@alypink

@ashwasherelol

@okayyadriana @merkitty49 @liyanahelena @abbeyrjm-blog @miyabilicious @caramlizedtomatoes

#cod nikolai #nikolai cod #nikolai cod x reader #nikolai cod x f!reader #taskforce 141 #nikolai reboot call of duty #call of duty #nikolai cod x female reader #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty mw 2022 #mini mactavish #mini mactavish universe #sofasoap writes #crack fic #dont take it so seriously

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countrymusiclover · 2 years ago

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11 - Tale of the Five

Part 12

Her Life Means Everything

@mrs-fanfiction-2001 @the-big-bad-klaus

Elijah standing in the doorway. "Take care of her while I go deal with our hunter. He still owes me an explanation as to why he took our mate!"

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes I blink a few times seeing sunlight coming in through the curtains. Sitting up in the bed I stretch my arms over my head seeing Elijah still sitting in an armchair in the corner of the room. Tucking hair behind my ear he doesn't look up from the book he's reading until I spoke up. "I thought you would be downstairs helping Nik with the hunter, Lijah."

"Niklaus asked me to take care of you while he dealt with the bloody mess." He closes his book getting to his feet picking up a glass of water from the nightstand handing it to me. Raising it to my lips I slowly drank it as he suggested softly. "Now what would you like to eat?"

Resting a hand on my stomach I raised a brow slowly lifting my shirt to see the would in my stomach was completely healed and you couldn't tell I was stabbed at all. "That's insane. I mean I literally was bleeding last night and now..." A smile crossed my face hearing my stomach grumbled. "Tacos...have you ever had them before?"

"I can't say that I have. Shall we then." He holds out his hands helping me climb out of the bed as gently as possible. Walking down the stairs we got in the car driving us to the nearest taco place outside of Mystic Falls. Handing him a taco he payed for them before we got back in the car. Closing my door he takes a bite and I nearly jumped out of my seat seeing a huge grin on his face before he takes another bite.

"Good isn't it?" I giggled tearing a bite out of mine seeing him smiling back at me.

"Much better than some of the things I've had over the centuries, Ms. Forbes." He replied where we eat in silence for a moment.

Pointing my index finger at him I corrected him softly. "Maddie. You can call me Maddie. We're not in the royal age anymore." He chuckled alongside me watching a soft smile form on my face with the sun breaking through the clouds softly. "Elijah, tell me what is it like to be over a thousand years old. To live through so many decards with different people in history who wnd up dying?"

He finished his first taco then reached in the bag pulling out another and started eating it while I finished my first shortly behind him. "It is an adjustment I will say that. When you become a vampire time stops. You don't have to worry about most human things killing you. But it's strange to watch people you saw say Queen Elizabeth II for example. I've watched her grow from a young child to the oldest queen ever in England. In my eyes it's a gift even though we must take blood from innocent people to survive..." His eyes fell to the floor and I could feel the regret he had for such things. He was like Stefan in a way feeling remorse for killing where as Damon or Kol even Klaus could care less. At least that's what I was told until the whole soulmate situation occurred.

"Have you and your brothers considered turning me since the bond thing. That way you wouldn't have to worry about me?" I asked tossing my last taco in the bag before he started the car driving us back to the mansion.

Elijah gripped the steering wheel with a heavy sigh glancing over at me on the drive home. "I have once...late last night actually. But it doesn't matter what I feel Maddie. It's your choice after all."

"Kol thinks it'd be fun and Nik well..." I trailed off scratching my head in thought being able to read them like the cover of a book so easily. "I might consider it one day because I wouldn't be this week little human in my sister's shadow. I'd be able to do exactly what she does."

Elijah rests a hand on my leg making me look him in the eye when we parked in the driveway. "Think about what you would be losing, Maddie-"

"The ability to age and have children I know." I replied seeing Stefan's car in the driveway making me confused. "Wait why is Stefan here?"

Entering the house Elijah led me into a room with a fireplace seeing Stefan and Klaus's talking about something. Stefan sighed coming over to me with a concerned look on his face taking my hands in his. "Maddie you're here. I came to ask what you're uh - boyfriend's knew about the five. But he won't say anything. Could you help me out?"

Dropping my gaze to the floor it hurt me to know that Caroline had told him about my ability and was now only here to get information with it. None the less I rounded the chair stepping up to Klaus whose eyes locked onto mine. He wrapped his arms around my waist titling his head to the side softly. "He thinks that I'll cave to you my dear, Maddie. But this bond isn't as strong as he thinks." He smirked until I reach up playing with the dog tags that hung around his neck.

"You sure about that before I uh - right now I can sense you want to take me to bed...at some point through this relationship." Wrapping my arms around his neck I leaned up on my toes whispering in his ear feeling his arms tighten around my waist making me blush deeply into the crook his neck when I bend my head down.

He leans his head down whispering in my ear with a smirk on his lips. "Tis tempting, love...keep it up and I just might do that." He tucks hair behind my ear focusing his gaze back on Stefan draping an arm over my shoulder explaining. "Fine. You might actually be useful in persuading my sister to cooperate. The brotherhood of the five was a group of highly skilled vampire hunters. We crossed paths with them in the twelfth century. Italy. My siblings and I had followed the Normans as they conquered the South. Feeding, turning people as we went."

Stefan trails off. "And Rebekah had a thing with one of them?"

"Oh, she didn't just have a thing. She fell in love with him. He told her all his secrets. Which I will gladly share with you..." Klaus replied through clutched teeth before he left to bring Rebekah here. She plopped down on the couch beside me with a huff until we set up a dinner table with wine glasses since Klaus was getting hungry. "My sister's boyfriend threw a slumber party that night. He and his brothers put us all down in our sleep. Elijah, Kol, Finn... And me."

Rebekah crossed her arms over her chest cutting cut off short by her brother. "How was I supposed to know?"

He raises his glass with an annoyed look with me leaning my elbows on the table listening to the fire crackling in the room. "Cheers. To my sister's uncanny ability to choose men."

"I thought the daggers didn't work on you because of your werewolf side." Stefan tapped his fingers on the table.

Klaus glanced over at me and I couldn't help but feel my face heating up for some reason when he smirked at Stefan's words. "They don't." He leaned forward on the table throwing his arms about. "Go ahead, Rebekah, tell him. Tell him what the hunter told you the tattoo leads to. What's this great weapon that could bring about the end of the vampire species?"

"A cure. He said there was a cure." Rebekah stared my direction seeing the shock on my face alongside Stefan.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years ago

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Title: Kismet {6}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Plot Heavy, Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Flirtation

Words: 4.5k

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘

As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

-Henry-

He couldn’t believe you had this effect on him. He hadn’t been able to think of anything else but you since bumping into you now more than three weeks ago. He thought the weeks you were in England and him in LA would have lessened how he was beginning to feel, but it hadn’t. Then he expected after a few dates that he would have realized that he was working himself up, but one date turned into two and another.

Every time you opened your mouth, he found something else to mesmerize him. If it wasn’t the way you spoke about your friends and family, it was your intellect. If it wasn’t that, it was your sense of humor or your cynical side. There was nothing about you that he tired of. You were fascinating, and he wanted to be around you more and more. That was what took him off guard. He tired quickly, and usually, after a few dates, he usually found characteristics that had him fading into the night.

He knew it was only a matter of time since meeting to exchange phones before you kissed. Every second he was tempted to claim your lips; every minute, he found himself either staring at them or inching closer. He was surprised you hadn’t been able to tell. He felt so transparent and open. It wasn’t a familiar feeling for him. He liked to be cautious of those he spent his time with because no one was ever who they said they were. Everyone had a hidden agenda. He didn’t feel that way about you.

The minute you kissed him, he had no idea how he remained in control. Every internal instinct told him to push you against those cave walls and rip your dress off of you. His palms itched to feel your skin underneath, but he wanted far more than your body. He knew that the minute the first “goodbye Henry” came out of your mouth. He wanted so much more that he didn’t dare voice or confront—not yet at least.

“What in the world has got your attention?”

Turning, he found Halley, Nik’s wife approaching him with a bright smile on her face. Once she plopped down beside him, he returned it. “Nothing—work,” he lied.

“You should have told me that you were coming by earlier. I would have had Kal bathed and nice for you.”

He looked out to see Kal speeding through the dog park and the obstacles that were laid out. He may be a bear of a dog, but he was agile as the most athletic pup.

“It’s okay. I stopped by the house; Nik said you were here. I don’t mind.”

“How long you in town for?”

He shrugged. When he considered work, it could be weeks or days, but now there was you. Right?

“Uh--,” he began rubbing the back of his neck. “Not sure. I left LA a few days ago and had to fly to Prague.”

Halley observed him for several long moments. When his eyes met hers, she gave a contrite grin before she looked down. “You look tired, Hen.”

Sighing, he nodded. He felt tired.

“Yeah. I just have to push on for a few more weeks then a holiday.”

She nodded, and like a mack truck in came Kal crashing into him, knocking the wind out of his lungs to lick all over his face.

“Hey, buddy. How are you? I missed you too, yes I did.” Kal kept licking at his face and nipping him on his excited state. He couldn’t keep his laughter back any longer.

For the next several minutes, he sat on the bench, embracing his best friend that he hadn’t seen in a few weeks. He hated traveling without Kal. He truly was one of the only comforts he had in his busy life.

“You think you want to come over for dinner tonight? I have a friend I’d love to introduce you to,” Halley mentioned.

Scoffing, he shook his head. Nik, Halley, Piers, and Amee had tried several times to hook him up with one of their friends, and none of them had ever been a success. It all came back to those hidden motives he couldn’t trust. Plus, none of them ever seemed to get past the celebrity thing. It was really a thing of fascination for many.

“No, I think I’m just going to lounge with Kal tonight.”

Halley nodded and stood just as he did after harnessing Kal back onto his leash.

“Thank you, Halley, I appreciate you guys looking after him.”

“You’re kidding; we’re family, Hen. Plus, the boys love Kal. He’s such a good boy,” she said as she scratched behind his ear. Like the good boy he was, Kal sat there happily accepting the affection.

After a quick hug, he was on his way to gather some groceries for a quick dinner. London was his town, and unlike America, he was left alone for the majority of the time. The only time he was approached was when he had some project looming for release, and the press had been rampant with promotion. Otherwise, he would walk down the street and have people recognize him but let him carry on with his day. Celebrity was handled differently by the Brits.

When he made it home, he began Kal’s grooming routine, which went on for almost two hours. Once that was complete, he worried about his own hygiene then began cooking dinner as he had the TV on in the background. When he was home, things were relatively quiet. He was a simple kind of man. He wasn’t into the extravagant thing many celebrities were. The most he’d splurged on was probably tech products. If it was a six thousand dollar gaming computer, he had to have it, or a collector’s building item, he owned it within days, or if it were a motorcycle, he’d splurge. The fancy clothes and everything else didn’t appeal to him, as did extravagant women.

That was before you. He could tell you were as extravagant as they came, but he could also feel that there was more to you than that. There had to be; he couldn’t be wrong there. Grabbing his phone, he scrolled to your contact and paused. This would be the fourth time he’d called you in the last two days. The fourth time he’d called with no answer. The first two times, he didn’t worry about optics because he knew just as he was busy you were probably even more so. The third time a nagging feeling took over that you were dodging his calls.

The first few days after he left LA, you answered. You’d talk for hours as if neither of you had anything better to do. When your conversations ended, you’d text throughout the day with only short lags between due to time zones. That went on for three days. By day four, the legs stretched. You didn’t call back as much until you’d stopped picking up altogether. Today was day six. He didn’t know what he’d done wrong.

Tapping your number, he left it on speakerphone as he stirred the mushroom gravy for his pot roast dinner. It rang once, twice, and a third before it went to voicemail. Sighing, he dropped his head back. He’d left you two messages already. He wasn’t inclined to leave another. Once he ended the call, he focused on the meal before him and not the feeling of rejection beginning to settle in the pit of his stomach.

~~~~~~~~~

-Aliya-

-Two Days Later-

It was unseasonably warm for April in New York. It was pushing seventy degrees and had been for the last three days. It wasn’t something you were mad at or even complaining about because you’d rather warm weather to model in the rain and snow. Thanks to the weather, your shoots had gone down without any problems or delays for the last three days. That meant you had a little time to yourself. Tonight you found yourself enjoying that time.

“So you need to tell us what’s going on with hunka hunka fine man,” Amaya began.

Rolling your eyes, you sighed then finished your glass of wine before filling it again. “Nothing, god.”

“What do you mean? Last we talked, you went to exchange phones, and Leece said you stayed for dinner, and we found out about how it was. What then?”

Debating in your head if you should even go down this route, you took a mouthful of your wine. You couldn’t even stop your smile when you thought of him. “He asked me out again, and I went. We ate, talked, then he took me to the beach to this—amazing cave and then he took me home,” you cliffs noted.

Amaya didn’t look convinced at all. “Wait. He took you home? He saw your house?” Her eyes were bugged to match the shock on her face.

“It’s no big deal. He didn’t go in or to the door,” you lied again while pushing to the side that it was, in fact, a big deal.

“Oh my god! You broke a rule,” she accused.

Rolling your eyes again, you tried to push down the anxiety that the accusation brought on.

“I guess I shouldn’t tell you I broke the no kissing on the second date rule, huh.”

The loudness of their gasps had so many eyes drifting to your table. Both Amaya and Alicia sat there, stunned and speechless. You didn’t blame them. This was unheard of.

“Who did it?” Placing your glass down, you looked to Alicia to answer her question. “He went for it, and I stopped him, then—I let him.”

No one spoke. You just knew they were about to make this an even bigger deal. “It’s not a big deal,” you anxiously lied again as your anxiety continued to rise. “We won’t be seeing each other anymore.”

“What! Why?”

“Because he has drama. He’s juggling two women. I will not be the third.”

“Oh god,” Amaya lamented as she rolled her eyes in unison with you.

As you rolled your eyes to the right, they landed on Henry, who was approaching your table.

“Oh holy mother of Christ,” you muttered just as he made it to the table.

“I thought I saw you,” Henry started.

Recovering like the pro you were, you plastered a smile on your face. “Hi.”

“How are you?” Henry bent to kiss your cheek, allowing you to smell him and have all the memories you’d tried to push down resurface. A moan escaped you before you could stop it. You were sure he heard it. When he pulled back, the look on his face confirmed it.

“Good, good—busy, so busy.”

He smirked and nodded. “I figured. I’ve been calling and texting. No response,” he threw out. You were impressed at his candor. Usually, people would keep pleasantries or even not let it be known. You liked that he called you out on it, but you didn’t like the position it put you in.

“Work. It’s been so crazy,” you weakly lied.

Thankfully Amaya clearing her throat brought the attention from you, giving you a needed reprieve.

“Eh-em!” Shaking your head, you took several breaths and looked him over. He looked good.

“Introduce us to your friend, Aliya,” Amaya badgered in her sweet voice.

“Of course. Amaya, Alicia meet Henry, a friend of mine. Henry, these are my best friends.”

For an inkling of a second, you saw a disappointed look on his face before it was gone and replaced with a pleasant smile.

“Henry,” Alicia began.

“Everyone usually calls me Hen or Henners,” he informed.

“Oh, Henners. Interesting,” Amaya gently teased with a smile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ladies,” Henry said, slightly bowing his head in that respectful, charmingly British way.

“Join us,” Amaya insisted, jarring you completely.

“Uh—I’m sure Henners has other things to do than sit with a couple of chicks,” you averted. The way Henry looked at you had you closing your mouth instantly.

“Actually, I was coming in for take-out, but I can stay.”

“Great,” Amaya elated as she raised her hand at a nearby waiter.

As the waiter brought a chair over, you finished your glass of wine, a sinking feeling settling in your belly. Just like your luck, the chair was set between you and Amaya, leaving Alicia across the table, the perfect location to observe you and Henry.

“Are you ready to order?”

“Henners just joined us, maybe a few more minutes,” Amaya informed the waiter.

“It’s alright. I know what I want,” Henry announced.

“Great. I’ll have the sriracha shrimp with mashed potatoes, please,” you nervously began.

“Any appetizer?”

“Chicken Samosas, please. Also, can you bring another bottle of Moscato? I’m sure this will be gone in no time,” I requested as I poured myself another glass.

The waiter took Amaya’s and Alicia’s order leaving Henry’s for last due to his insistence that the ladies went first. Damn his charm, you thought. Once he’d ordered his food and the waiter left to put it in, Amaya wasted no time beginning the conversation.

“I saw the first trailers for The Witcher and the teaser trailer for the next era in Superman and Justice League. I am looking forward to both of them.”

His smile was soft. “Really? Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“Are you in New York for business or pleasure?” As she said, “pleasure,” she raised her eyebrows.

Oh, dear God, you thought, beginning to toy with your wine glass.

“Business and promo. I left my pleasure in LA,” Henry stated, slipping a glance your way. Your belly fluttered.

“Oh no. I’m sorry. Maybe you can find some in New York,” Amaya added.

Henry took a sip of his wine and shrugged. “I wasn’t optimistic about that, but here I stand corrected bumping into you ladies.”

Alicia and Amaya giggled like love-struck schoolgirls. You wanted to laugh. You were able to not laugh outright, but you couldn’t stifle the snort that escaped.

“Guys watch out, Henners here is British. The capital of charm,” you teased.

Henry smiled again. “Not my fault the British were bred somewhat different than the rest of the world. We appreciate simpler things, charm being one of them and beautiful women.”

“Cocky,” Alicia slid in.

“Not at all. I prefer confident,” he finished raising his glass to her. Smirking, you took a mouthful of wine.

“How can you stand to work for so long and so frequently away from family and friends?”

Henry looked to Amaya before he answered. You liked one thing; he paid attention to who he spoke to, ensuring they felt seen. “It used to be tough. I dealt with loneliness a lot but not so much anymore. I’ve learned how to handle it.”

After another sip of wine, you butted in. “Plus, there are a slew of beautiful women dying to aid you with your loneliness. It helps, I bet.”

The look he gave you was a questioning one, but he didn’t speak. He just shrugged with a smirk.

“I don’t notice the women. They all tend to blend together, same attitudes, same motives, same antics. Finding someone original in the sea is rare, and I have better things to do than vet.”

“So, you’re not looking for love?”

It was a bold question, but it was right up Amaya’s alley.

“Never looking,” Henry answered.

“That’s good. When you’re not looking is usually when it finds you,” Alicia added.

“Or something finds you. Love, lust, whichever,” you argued before you took another sip of wine.

“Don’t mind cynical Cathy over there,” Amaya taunted.

“It’s all right. Usually, those who are cynics just need something to believe in or to be showed they can believe in something—or someone,” Henry said as he stared at you.

No one spoke or moved for quite a while. You were the one to look away and knock back the rest of your wine.

The remainder of dinner was interesting. Henry continued to charm your friends with almost every word out of his mouth. It didn’t take long for you to see how much they liked him. Part of you was happy because who didn’t want their friends to like someone that was showing attention. The other part of you hated it. They were typically a lot more difficult to melt than this.

You found yourself watching him, and his body langued for the rest of the night. If he moved his hands as he spoke, your eyes were focused there, noting how large and strong they looked. If Henry took a sip of wine or a bite of his steak, you focused on his mouth. From there, your mind always went back to the feel of his lips on yours. You were still attracted to him.

The week had done nothing. There was a reason why you’d created distance and space from him. It was supposed to serve a purpose, and you thought it had, but this dinner proved nothing had changed. You wanted him, and it was driving you crazy.

By the time the three of you left the restaurant after Henry paid, the night air was cool but not cold. It was pleasant. When you turned, he was there, and your friends had mysteriously wandered off. Henry took a few steps closer to you, leaving only a few inches between you.

“How are you?”

“I’m good. You?”

Henry took a deep breath and stuffed his hands into his pocket. You remembered that move. Biting your bottom lip, you glanced at his lips.

“Feeling the burn out coming.”

Nodding, you answered, “I understand.”

“I’ll be in town for one more day. I fly out tomorrow night. Would you want to do breakfast tomorrow?”

There it was. You sighed, looked down, and shuffled your feet. “Okay.”

“Pick a restaurant. This is your stomping ground,” Henry said with a smile that made you smile.

“You remember.”

He leaned in softly, bumping you. “I remember everything you’ve told me.”

One simple sentence took your breath away. You watched Henry lean into you to place a sweet kiss on your cheek.

“Good night, Aliya.”

Taking a breath to slow your racing heart, you replied. “Goodbye, Henry.”

He scoffed before he walked off down the street, leaving you to watch as he walked. Groaning, you bit your bottom lip. “Damn.”

~~~~~~~~

-The Next Day-

With plenty of debate about canceling or keeping the breakfast plans, you gave in and kept it. After putting in way too much effort into your hair, makeup and outfit, you found yourself rolling up to the designated meet spot—Sarabeth’s twenty minutes late. Once you approached the restaurant, you saw him sitting by one of the windows with a newspaper in one hand and his phone in the other. Once he saw you, his smile widened, showing you his sharpened canines that were longer than his other teeth and slightly poked out. It was an endearing quality.

As you approached, he stood to greet you, then kissed your cheek.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

“I’m pretty sure from now on I’ll be waiting for you happily,” he joked.

Once both of you had settled, you looked at him, almost losing your train of thought.

“Have you ordered?”

“Just some tea,” he informed, motioning to his white ceramic teacup.

“Tea? You’re not a coffee drinker?”

“I am British,” was all he said.

Snorting, you laughed at his serious expression.

“Let me guess, Earl Grey?”

“Now, I’m just cliché, aren’t I?”

Giggling, you shrugged, pleased with yourself for guessing correctly.

“Welcome to Sarabeth’s. Can I start you guys off with something to drink?”

Glancing to Henry, he motioned to you to go first.

“I’ll have an Earl Grey tea, please.”

Henry snorted, making you smile.

“Coming right up.”

When the two of you were alone again, his smile widened. “You too, huh.”

“I start my day with Earl Grey. Guess it comes from the British part of me.”

“Must be,” he replied.

“I saw the trailer last night. Amaya is right. It’s amazing,” you elated.

His smile was adorable, but he looked embarrassed. “You think so?”

Nodding, you placed your hand over his as reassurance. “I promise.”

Henry looked down at your hand, bringing your eyes to it as well. Pulling back, you cleared your throat.

“I’m excited. I’ve been doing this for the last year. I’ve put a lot into it, blood, sweat—everything.”

His passion shone through, and it pulled you closer to him. “I can imagine,” you responded before you flipped through the menu.

“I take it you’ve been here before?”

“Yes, one of my favorites. The food is fresh and organic,” you answered.

“So you’re health-conscious,” Henry filled in.

“Not at all. I just like good food.” His laugher echoed around the small restaurant. You had to shrug off the shiver that ran through you.

Hoping to change the subject, you inquired, “Ready? I’m hungry.”

Henry nodded and waved the waiter over. Again, he allowed you to order first before he went ahead. Once the waiter got your orders, the conversation turned to work. He told you about the plans for season two of The Witcher and even gave some tidbits about the new Superman project. It was clear he enjoyed what he did and took pride in it. Many actors saw acting merely as a means for millions and fame—that was until you got that intrusive fame.

“Your friends are great.”

“Ha. That’s because you just met them,” you teased. “Over time, you’d be whistling a different tune.”

“Sound like my friends and family if I’m honest.”

You laughed together. “Mine too. Aren’t they the best?”

Picking up on the sarcasm in your voice, he nodded, giving you a quirky face.

The connection between you was evident, as was the attraction. It was something challenging to repress or pretend wasn’t happening. When you spoke, you noticed he watched your mouth and even picked up how his body swayed to you. It was similar to what happened to you. As you explained to him how you enjoyed traveling when you were promoting an album, his phone rang. Seeing as it could have been important business, you insisted he answer to his protests. Before he did, he promised it would be quick.

“Hello?”

The look on his face was instant shock.

“Um—It’s—it’s not a good time. I will call you later,” Henry rushed out lower than he’d began.

Thanks to the lowness of his tone, you could hear a woman’s voice from the call. That was all you needed to be slapped to reality.

“Tomorrow. I’ll be home, and then we have to talk,” Henry stated. Your jaw clenched before he ended the call to look at you.

“Everything all right?”

After clearing his throat, he nodded. “Yes.”

His smile was forced, but he forged on with the conversation. A conversation you were ready to check out of entirely. Pushing through the remainder of the meal, your only goal was the end. Once breakfast was finished and the bill settled, this time by you, the two of you found yourself outside together.

“If I call you in the next few weeks, will you pick up?”

Another bold question. Too bold, considering you’d just heard a woman on the phone. Sighing out, you tied your trench again.

“Henry--.”

Henry moaned then sighed out. “Chris, my name on your lips sounds so much more different than anyone else saying it. I like it.”

He truly spoke what he thought, no concealing. Shrugging it off and pushing through your stupor, you stepped back and continued. “This has been fun. You seem like a really good person on top of being uber-talented. I wish you nothing but continued success in your career and life, but—for anything here—I don’t think it’s going to happen,” you said surprisingly steadily.

His confusion was apparent. Tilting his head to the side, Henry’s brows knitted. “Why?”

Quickly you searched for a reason deciding on the plainest answer. “Because it won’t work.”

“Give me a reason,” Henry pressed but not in a disrespectful way.

Feeling cornered, you straightened your back. “Why do you need a reason?”

“I’m a man. I need to know the reason why I’m being rejected. I thought we were progressing on the same page,” he honestly revealed. You could see the confusion and hurt increasing in his eyes.

Fuck it, you thought. “I don’t do drama or messy, and your situation screams drama and mess,” you blurted out.

“My situation?”

“Henry, I had your phone for two weeks. I saw the messages and calls from Francesca and Abby. That is messy and the potential for more drama than I have the energy for. I don’t do three ways. I don’t share. I’m not a juggling ball. I will not be juggled.”

“How do you know you’re being juggled?”

“That call in there. Was that Francesca or Abby? I’m going to guess it was Abby since you said you’d be home, and she’s sent messages asking about you coming home before,” you deduced. Henry nodded and looked down.

“Downside to a woman having your phone for a long period of time,” you mumbled.

“Have you been juggling me with Jesse and Liam? I’ve seen the messages and calls too,” Henry countered.

“I don’t juggle. Juggling means one or both do not know about each other. Jesse and Liam know about each other. I don’t juggle,” you finished.

Henry sighed and nodded.

“So, you’ve been seeing the three of us.”

“I haven’t, and that is my honest answer.”

Henry glanced down the street. His whole disposition changed. Where he was warm and inviting, he was now cold and rigid.

“So that’s just it?”

Shrugging, you nodded. “Pretty much.”

“Even though we both felt it.”

Keeping a straight face, you proceeded. “I don’t know what you mean. The bottom line is I’ve broken three rules already when it comes to you, and I will not break this one.”

With that, Henry nodded.

“Have a safe flight. Goodbye, Henry.”

Staring at each other for a few moments, neither of you moved. Henry nodded, and you took that as your out. Walking down the street away from him, you did your best to keep your head up and your back straight. You’d talked the talk, and now you had to walk the walk.

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

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#kismet fic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x black reader #angst fanfic #slow burn fanfic #black fanfiction

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lilianaswhatever · 5 years ago

Text

A place in the sun

Oh well, here is my contribution to the Tyler Rake fandom. Thanks to @givemeabite for the inspiration! I also listened to “A place in the sun” by Engelbert Humperdinck which gave me major Tyler vibes.

Tag list: @alievans007

Summary: You broke up with Tyler because of his reckless behavior but you just couldn’t get over him.

Warning: Mentions of blood, swearing (it’s just one word but still), and angst.

Pairing: Tyler Rake x Reader

Word Count: 3013

You were in the line at immigration and had your passport in your hands, ready to be next in line. When it was your turn, you stepped to the counter. The question that you thought about the whole flight then came: “What is the purpose of your trip?” The answer you gave to the immigration officer was simple: “I am here on vacation.” A smile rounded up your appearance as a normal tourist. The truth was you didn’t know why you were here. A part of you wanted to turn around and take the next flight home but the stamp came into your passport as if it sealed the deal. You had spent the whole day in an airplane just to get to Sydney. So instead of getting a ticket back home, you proceeded to board your connection flight to Broome International Airport, located in the Kimberley. After finally arriving at your destination, you were just happy to have solid ground under your feet. You got your luggage and went on to search for a cab. During all the time you had alone with your thoughts you came to the conclusion that you would make it your purpose to at least have some kind of vacation no matter if you would see him or not. But as soon as you stepped outside the airport into the dry heat of Australia your phone buzzed. ‘Nik’ was all you read on your screen, which caused you to sigh. You looked around to see if you could make out someone suspicious watching you -she had her tipsters everywhere- before you answered the call. “Hello Nik.” “(y/l/n). Where are you?” “I am pretty sure you already know, or you wouldn’t have called.” “Alright, I knew as soon as you stepped foot on the ground in Sydney, but I thought I would grant you some time to get settled.” You shook your head at that, waiting for a cab with your luggage in hand could hardly be classified as getting settled. “What do you want, Nik?” You opened your handbag searching for a pair of sunglasses to shield your eyes from the afternoon sun. “Are you up to work?” “Depends, I am technically here on vacation.” “And you picked Australia? More specific the Kimberly region?” “It is as good a place in the sun as others. Look, Nik, I gotta get going. Call me again in case you got something. Bye.” But before you could hang up you heard her say: “He is at home,” followed by the silence of the disconnected line.

- Time skip -

You spent three days in a hotel before you decided you needed to see him. So, you rented a Jeep and started navigation to the middle of nowhere. You carefully folded the small piece of paper with his scribbled address and put it into your jeans pocket. The paper showed clear signs of having been crumbled up and thrown away many times before, but you always fished it back out of the wastebasket and kept it after all. It had been almost a year since your last mission together, which ended with you leaving him in the rain at a small private airport near Tijuana. You had always asked yourself if you wanted to see him again, but the question which nobody could answer for you was if he wanted to see you. It was hard not to enjoy the beautiful landscape that passed by although your thoughts were racing, and your heart was restless. Back then you let your head rule thinking it would shield your heart from greater pain. But it never healed. Tyler was the ghost that haunted you wherever you went, no matter where you had run to, emerged in gun fire or sitting tight in a stake out somewhere in the harsh winter of Russia, he was always there with you – at least in your thoughts. You turned into an unpaved road which lead you to a small settlement. You passed by small houses, a bar and a store until you left the village behind. You had debated with yourself to stop at the bar to get a drink thinking the alcohol might soothe your nerves, but you needed to keep a clear head. You reached the coordinates as you pulled up in front of a little house secluded from the rest of civilization. Your heartbeat was fastening as you turned off the motor. It was almost dark now and a part of you still doubted if this was the right choice. It wasn’t too late to turn around and your hands were still on the steering wheel, grabbing it hard enough for the white in your knuckles to show. But you came all the way and you would not pull out now although you weren’t even sure what you expected from your visit. The only thing you knew was that you couldn’t get Tyler out of your head. You got out of your car and walked towards the small home, which was a nice way of saying a pile of wood and metal. You came to a stop on his front porch and closed your eyes while taking a deep breath before you eventually knocked on the door. But nothing happened, not even the slightest sound could be heard from the inside. A nudge on your leg ripped you out of your sudden sadness and you looked down to see a dog. “Hey there, little buddy. Do you know if Tyler is home?” You asked while leaning down to pet the doggo. And as if he had understood you, he raised his paw to scratch at the door. “Ohh, you live here?” You made the decision to not give up now and almost on an instinct you begin lifting up every flowerpot in hopes to find a key. You knew that Tyler had a habit of drinking a little too much, and you were right, under one of the pots was a key. He had probably left it there in case he forgot where his own was. You shook your head at this careless behavior by the mercenary but that was typical of him. You opened the door, letting the dog in, before stepping into the darkness of the house. “Tyler?” You called out his name to announce your presence. But only silence answered you. The thought that Nik might have been wrong crossed your mind before you quickly discarded it. If someone knew his whereabouts, it would be her. Maybe it just shouldn’t be. You turned around again, ready to leave, but in this moment the door opened, and Tyler appeared. Just like that he stood there. You haltered in your movement and for a moment the two of you just looked at each other. “Tyler, I…” But you got stuck with your explanation because he suddenly collapsed onto the ground. You and the dog were by his side in an instant. “Tyler, are you alright?” A grunt was his only answer as he tried to get up, but he immediately needed to lean against the wall to remain standing. “Come here, you have to sit down.” You wrapped an arm around his torso and pulled him off the wall. His heavy weight rested on you and you had trouble even getting him to his bed, which was the closest thing you could find to let him rest on. This reminded you so much of the past, only this time he was not nearly bleeding to death. You tried to gently place him on the bed, but he plopped down like a sack of potatoes. You went back to the door and found the light switch. You could only hear a groan in the back as a reaction to the sudden brightness. You then filled a glass with water and brought it to his side. Tyler had already sunken into his bed and had his eyes closed. Now the light laid bare the reason for his current state. He had a cut on his right eyebrow and his nose was bloody and his shirt was torn. But what concerned you way more was that blood now stained his sheets. So, scratch what you thought before, this definitely was a lot like some of your last encounters. You grabbed his hand, the source of the blood flow and looked at his palm. A gaping wound greeted you. “This needs stitches,” you concluded. “I’m fine.” An annoyed sigh escaped your lips. “Where is your emergency kit?” and before he could even start to debate with you, you added: “Tell me now or I will turn your house upside down.” “Nightstand.” He vaguely pointed in the direction beside his bed and you went over there and opened the drawers. At first you couldn’t find anything despite some pill bottles and other things. Only at the last drawer you finally laid eyes on the emergency kit, which turned out to be an oversized yellow lunchbox container. You opened it up and relief washed over you as you saw that most of the things you needed were still there. As you lifted the kit out and wanted to close the drawer a familiar picture caused you to pause. Your fingers gently picked it up and you stared at the faces of Tyler and you. He had his arm slung around your shoulder and was grinning at the camera while you looked at him with a loving expression. A pain went through your heart not only at the sight of how happy you once were but also as you saw that the side of the picture was burnt away and a black ruffled edge replaced what had once been the view over the mountains of Mexico. Tyler turned on the bed and you quickly put the picture on the bed before coming back to his side. You needed to tend to his hand first and then you would take care of his face. “Can you sit up?” He did as he was told for once and you went to his sink to fill a bowl with water. You cleaned his hand and disinfected the wound. But the blood was still flowing so you needed to work quickly. You sat down beside him and placed a cloth on your leg. You grabbed his hand and got to work, carefully stitching him up. Once in a while you looked at his face. His eyes were pressed shut and his jaw was clenched but these were the only signs of his pain. Now that you were so close to him you could clearly smell that whatever had caused his injury was probably to blame on alcohol and a bar fight. But the alcohol in his blood would at least numb most of the pain. “What are you doing here?” he mumbled as you cleaned off the blood from the now closed wound. “I am on vacation.” Despite not really answering his question it was also a lie. “Looking for a place in the sun, ey?” Another of those countless sighs left your lips. “She told you.” “I thought you wouldn’t come.” Now you looked at him, really looked at him for the first time in a year. His eyes were still bright blue but to your disdain they still carried the same amount of pain as the last time you looked into them. You turned your gaze toward the emergency kit and drenched some cotton balls with disinfectant and dabbed them onto the cuts on his face which caused him to close his eyes again. You slowly placed your free hand on his cheek to support his head as the last blotches of blood disappeared. Nonetheless, he would have a black eye in the morning, you were sure of it. His skin was hot under your touch and his stubble scratched your palm. You brushed your fingers past the scar he had above his eyebrow and a nameless dread filled you deep inside. You let your hand linger a little longer than necessary. Suddenly you felt like you were back in a shabby motel somewhere in the middle East, patching him up as one of your missions turned out badly. It was a habit even before the two of you became involved with each other. How often you had been in these situations you couldn’t say. You physically shook your head, trying to rid yourself of those sentimental thoughts. “So, I am finished,” you stated before you distanced yourself while grabbing all the blood-stained utensils. You stood up and looked for a trash can in his kitchen. “Thank you.” “No worries, that’s what friends…” you stopped yourself mid-sentence. Did you really just want to say that’s what friends are for? You had been something more than friends before but now you weren’t even friends. You just let it go and left the sentence unfinished and washed your hands. The blood was slowly running down the drain. “I should go,” you uttered. “You just came.” He sounded exhausted and it almost pained you to disappoint him, but you just couldn’t relive the past. “I know but this was a mistake. I am sorry.” “So, you are just leaving? What were you doing here in the first place? And I don’t buy the ‘place in the sun’ bullshit, in case you haven’t noticed.” His voice was strained with anger and it sounded like he had regained his strength just to confront you. “You haven’t changed at all, Tyler.” You started to dry your hands with a kitchen towel, rubbing harder than necessary. You fixed your gaze on the darkness outside the window. You couldn’t look at him for what you wanted to say, afraid that otherwise you couldn’t pull through. “You know this is why I left. You just throw yourself in some situation that could get you killed. You don’t even care. I love you but apparently that was never enough for you. You still threw yourself in front of every bullet that came flying your way. And every time we were not together, I feared that I would get a call from Nik saying that you are dead in a ditch in the middle of nowhere. Honestly, I don’t know what I am doing here, I don’t know why I came. I just…for some fucked up reason I can’t let you go. But I also can’t live with the thought that you go off on a mission and decide that that’s it.” Your chest was rising and falling as you tried to compose yourself again. “I am still here, am I not?” his voice was so near, and you turned around only to find him standing right behind you. You leaned against the counter to have some space, but you imagined that you could still feel the heat of his body radiating off him. You realized that what he said was true. He was still here, and that years’ time was lost. Time you could have spent with him. You were so afraid to lose him that you hadn’t realized that by pushing him away you lost him. “I think I need a drink now.” You brushed past him to his table where you poured yourself a drink, not caring what it even was. You walked back to the bed, not sure of what to do next. “Quit walking away from me, would you.” He exclaimed before heaving himself back to the bed. “Hmm.” Was all you had to say to that, but you still went to sit next him, turning around to grab the picture of the two of you that was laying on the bed behind you. You placed it on your lap and proceeded to pull the piece of paper with his address out of your pants to place it beside the picture. “Guess we both couldn’t bury the past.” A sad smile rested on your lips as you looked at the two remnants of your love. “You love me?” he suddenly asked. “What?” Now you were confused. “Earlier, you said you love me and not loved.” Realization hit you. You couldn’t believe that he caught that out of everything while being drunk. “That doesn’t matter.” You glanced down at your beverage, rotating the glass in your hand. “It does because I love you, too, (y/n).” Your eyes began burning from tears you couldn’t spill. This whole time you thought that love just wasn’t enough. But it had to be enough, at least for the night. “Did anybody ever tell you that you think too much?” You huffed out a quiet laugh at his question “Yeah, you, many times. And you…” you looked at him, the words being stuck in your throat at the sight of him. You couldn’t imagine being separated again. You felt too weak to run away again, the strength you had minutes ago had left you as soon as you sat down. He chimed in, placing a hand on your cheek: “... and I don’t think things through, I know. That’s why I need you.” His eyes travelled from your lips and you caught your breath for a moment. He leaned down to kiss you, but he paused just before your lips could meet and asked: “Will you stay?” You nodded your head slightly. It was all you were capable of before you closed your eyes and welcomed his lips pressing against yours. As you two separated he raised his fingers, tracing the side of your face. A smile lit up his face and the pain in his eyes seemed to have subsided, at least a little bit. You always loved his smile, which was a stark contrast to his usual brooding expression. You knew that when he looked at you like that you would fall for him over and over again. His smile turned into a grin before he said: “I think I sobered up quite a bit but tell me you love me again in the morning.” Maybe you found your place in the sun.

#tyler rake x reader #tyler rake imagine #tyler rake fanfiction #extraction fanfiction #extraction imagine

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fragmentedink-archived · 4 years ago

Text

Hell to Pay: Part Fifty

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XVIIII, XXX, XXXI, XXXII, XXXIII, XXXIV, XXXV, XXXVI, XXXVII, XXXVIII, XXXIX, XL, XLI, XLII, XLIII, XLIV, XLV, XLVI, XLVII, XLVIII, XLIX

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

A/N: trigger warnings for child death, mentions of stillborn children, child illness, abusive parents, appearance of Az’ril

Amara shuffled in front of the doors of Biela’s palace. This was not a conversation she wanted to have. But it was a conversation that needed to be had. Not that she really had a choice either way.

With a small breath to steady herself, Amara slipped inside. There were no guards in sight, but there weren’t supposed to be, anyway. In sight, at least. That didn’t mean Amara wasn’t aware she was being watched every step of the way up to Biela’s office.

Halfway there, a familiar face poked out of a nearby room. “Caius,” Amara said in greeting, relaxing some. He looked the image of his sister, Biela. Black hair, blue eyes, and bronze skin. Other than the fact that he was an alpha, and, well, a man, was that he was at least six foot, and Amara didn’t think she’d ever seen Biela smile so openly.

Today his smile was a bit more strained as he said, “If it isn’t the reason my sister’s more prickly than usual.”

Amara grimaced at that. “I know I joke about wanting your sister to step on me, but- not really digging it at the moment.”

“Probably wise, considering she’s dealing with this personally,” Caius said, before adding, “I can’t imagine your cousin’s first interaction with her was all that pleasant.”

That deserved the wince it got. “Probably not,” Amara agreed. “I haven’t been to see him yet. He’s wanted... space.” She swallowed, tried for a smile. “At least he’s not the type to hit on her like Nik? He probably shit himself when he saw her.”

“Oh he’d definitely be dead then,” Caius said.

“Good thing for us all that he’s an anxious gay mess then,” she said.

“Not for you.”

She winced.

“Do you realize the position your actions put us all in?” he said. “My sister went herself to deal with this. There is a reason that I am usually the one to go in her stead, and a good deal of that reason is because I am far more likeable and far more merciful. You made a mistake, Amara.”

“I know,” Amara said softly. “I fucked up.”

“You can’t unring this bell with an apology.”

“I can’t unring it period. Even if Lev dies, and I’ll be the first to admit he’s not out of the woods yet, it’s not going- it’s not going to undo what I made Cyrus do.”

“We’ll see if the witch survives this too,” Caius said, nodding up the hall to Biela’s study. “She’s waiting for you.”

Lovely. She just nodded and eased inside the office.

The office was bright, full of far more color than Amara would have expected if she hadn’t been there before. It was warm and open, but not even that could ease the trepidation in Amara’s chest as she crossed the room to Biela’s desk.

“Sit down,” Biela said, not even looking up from her paperwork.

Amara sat.

The silence stretched long enough Amara shifted uncomfortably in the soft chair. She’d not been stupid enough to bring weapons with her, and the lack of anything to fidget with didn’t help with how antsy she felt.

Eventually Biela looked up, leaning back in her chair. “Well thank you for gracing us with your presence.”

It took Amara a few seconds to pick out her response. “I should have come sooner,” she finally said.

Biela lifted a brow. “Before or after you poisoned my lands?”

“Before,” Amara said quietly.

“Yes.”

As Amara struggled to figure out what to say, Biela started sliding photos across the desk. A cold, sick feeling curdled Amara’s breakfast in her stomach. Those were sick children. Infants. Stillborns. Mortality was high in angels and demons both, but Amara’s magic was screaming that something was wrong with these children beyond the usual difficulties both immortal races had with pregnancy and childbirth, even if she couldn’t see anything beyond the sickly, unnatural thinness. When Amara looked up at Biela, who hadn’t stopped sliding more and more across the desk, there was no forgiveness in her icy stare.

I didn’t know. She choked the words off before they could even rise in her throat, stuffing it back down deep. Biela was a telepath. Likely she’d seen it, but Amara shoved it deeper anyway, and looked back down at the growing pile.

“How many?” She finally croaked.

“How many what?” she asked, venomously. “How many were born dead? How many died shortly after birth or how many are untouched by what you have done?”

“How many dead?” She asked, hating herself more with every word. “How many sick because of what I did?”

“The numbers are still coming in, but they’re in the thousands.”

Amara folded her arms over her stomach to keep from reaching for one of the photos. She had done this. Caius had warned her an apology wouldn’t fix this, but she hadn’t even imagined-

She couldn’t even look Biela in the eye anymore.

“Nothing to say?” Biela asked in a steely tone.

“I could spend the rest of my life trying to atone and nothing would-” Amara thought she might be sick. “I had no idea- but that is no excuse.” Gods, those were children. Infants.

Biela stood, leaning across the desk enough that Amara finally looked up out of sheer instinct. “I have half a mind to whip you and your cousin bloody.”

Amara would have taken it, and gladly, but that could kill Lev, on a good day. Lev was far enough from a good day to send a chill down her spine. Still, she knew better than to say anything at all, and just pressed her lips into a shaky line.

“Why should your pathetic cousin live, and thousands of children die?” Biela demanded. “He’s had a hundred and thirty seven years to do something with his life, and he’s done nothing but cower.”

The worst part was Amara had no answer for her.

“What, nothing to say to that either?”

“I don’t,” Amara admitted in a small voice. “I don’t have any answers.” She was in so far over her head.

“Well that is indeed a first.” Biela stared her down unflinchingly. “Maybe this time you’ll keep your arrogance in check. Instead of executing you, I’m letting you live with this.”

Amara almost would have preferred an execution. And maybe that was exactly why Biela wasn’t going to give it to her.

“I’m sorry doesn’t begin to cover it,” Amara finally whispered. “But I am. I am so, so sorry.”

“I’ll be sure to pass that along to the thousands of families that are grieving,” Biela said, before giving a final, dismissive, “Get out.”

Amara all but bolted. The guilt chased her down the hall, and would for a good few decades yet.

---

Nik had to admit he was less than pleased with the anxiety curling in his stomach as he waited outside of Cameron’s office door. He had probably been standing outside for a solid five minutes, trying to form exactly what he was going to say to make sure Cameron didn’t hate him, when Cameron’s voice yanked him out of his head.

“Get in here.”

Right.

Nik went inside, not surprised to find the window was already open for Nik’s benefit when Cameron motioned to shut the door. Of course Cameron was working on something; there wasn’t a single minute of the day that wasn’t allotted for something. He did find it interesting, however, to find bedding folded neatly on the couch by the wall.

Nik didn’t comment on it.

He plopped down in the chair across from him, feeling like he somehow got yanked into the principal's office for getting caught smoking in the boy’s room in high school. He folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the chair, not really sure what else to do.

Cameron finished reading the paper he was on before removing his reading glasses and peered up at Nik. “Nothing has stopped you from speaking before,” Cameron said. “Don’t let it stop you now.”

Nik grimaced at the slight irritability in Cameron’s tone. “Why didn’t you say anything.”

Cameron scratched his face. “Not my place to say anything,” he said, after a moment of thought. “Your body, your choice. Tell me, don’t tell me. I didn’t and don’t care. As long as you were taken care of, I didn’t see why I should have commented on anything.”

“Maybe because you’re my alpha?” Nik retorted, annoyed.

“Again, not my place.” Cameron eyed him carefully. “Have you decided on what you’re going to do with the fetus?”

An excellent wordsmith, Cameron was. It irked him. “I don’t- I don’t know,” Nik said. “Why do you care when it’s clearly not yours.”

Cameron didn’t bother blinking, and just kept watching him. “Is that right?”

It’s your brother’s. “You know it is.”

“As far as I am concerned, it is mine.”

“I-”

“Yes,” Cameron said, leaning forward. “Unless you want to suggest otherwise, or do plan on aborting, I do not care. It is mine, it would have the same protections Eden has because that little cretin is mine as well.”

Nik’s face prickled and he curled back in the chair uncomfortably. “But- why?”

Cameron looked at him as if he were obtuse. “Because I care about you, idiot. If I did not, I would have gone ahead and let you be ripped to shreds when you decided to waltz your way into my house to spy on my family. If I did not, you would not be in my bed. You would not be in my house, and Lev sure as hell would not be alive and in my house, either. Neither of you would be here. Understand? I can live on my own, by myself without you or Lev or anyone decidingly annoying the hell out of me, but I choose to let you both drive me up the wall. So yes, as far as I am concerned the fetus is mine, because you are mine. Do you have a problem with that.”

“....no,” Nik said, in a small voice.

“Good,” Cameron said, with finality. “Then what are we going to do, because I’m sure Ash has hounded you with details about what you need to be doing. So you need to be deciding, and deciding soon, so I can deal with everything that needs to be done.”

Nik watched him blankly, not really sure what to say. “I cheated on you, though.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Nikolas, we have never established anything exclusive. We are also not in a relationship, meaning exclusivity is void to begin with. What you have done while Lev was dead, as far as I am concerned, does not negate anything between you and myself. However, if you decide to overdose again, especially in my house, I will personally take you to Death’s door so do not ever try to do something like that again.”

“You can’t just excuse everything you don’t like, Cameron!” Nik snapped. “I- everything I did was completely out of line.”

“I’m not,” Cameron said, not even raising his voice an octave. “I am telling you, do something like that again, and you won’t live to regret it. Lev’s death was clearly hard on you, and I was willing to work with it- as it was my choice. Just like it will be my choice to not deal with anything else like that again. I’m too busy and tired to deal with any more mental breakdowns that are going to give me another headache. Do I make myself clear.”

Nik sighed sharply. “Why don’t you hate me,” Nik said, voice breaking. “I’ve done nothing more than be a thorn in your side and you’re still being like that.’

“Hate is a useless emotion,” Cameron said, baldly. “And not one I’d waste on you when you’ve done nothing to warrant it. Just because you annoy me doesn’t mean I do not enjoy your company.”

Nik wrinkled his nose. “That sounds suspiciously like affection,” Nik muttered. Cameron only rolled his eyes. Nik was quiet, not sure how to feel about anything Cameron just said, when Cameron didn’t really do fancy speeches regarding anything. “I just…. I don’t want to mess this up. I can’t take any of it back.”

“Then don’t take it back,” Cameron said. “Live with it, like the rest of us, and move forward.”

“Well when you put it like that.”

“I sound reasonable?” Cameron said, dryly. “It’s almost like I have five hundred years on you and know what the hell I’m talking about.”

Nik sniffled and wiped at his face. “I think…”

His voice faltered.

Cameron watched him, expectantly. “You think what?”

“I think I want to keep it- the baby,” he said, in a tiny voice. “I just…”

“Then keep it and we’ll deal with it,” Cameron said. “However, there is the matter of making sure the child is recognized as legitimate.”

Nik blinked at him, confused. “Are you saying you want to get married? Because if so-”

“That is not what I’m saying,” Cameron said, looking vaguely repulsed with the idea.

“Oh. Well. I was going to say that was a shitty proposal.”

“Good thing it wasn’t a proposal, then.”

“Then what were you saying? Because I don’t want the kid to be a bastard. Less likelihood of one of your brethren eating it.”

“Well,” Cameron said. “You’re not wrong.”

That was comforting.

Cameron sighed and scratched his face. “What I was saying, before you rudely interrupted me, was that there is a way to legitimize the child, without marriage. However, that is through a mating bond. I am willing to provide one if it will protect the child.”

Nik stared at him, mouth slightly open. “You what.”

The annoyance returned to Cameorn’s face. “Nikolas, you know I detest repeating myself.”

“Yeah, well, I detest getting punched in the face with that kind of offer, Cameron, so excuse me if I’m a little surprised.”

“Do you or do you not accept.”

Nik fell silent. “Cameron?”

“Hm?”

I love you was on the tip of his tongue, but he knew it would make Cameron uncomfortable, and Nik cared enough about Cameron’s boundaries to not push it. So instead he said, “Thank you.”

The smallest crease appeared between Cameron’s brows. “For?”

“Seeing me.”

----

Lev tried not to let it bother him that Cameron had cleaned up his mess with the plates before he could get to it. And he tried not to let it bother him that Nik was being quiet, and even a little hesitant around him. The unspoken trauma that he knew Nik and Cameron both carried was something that they’d all avoided talking about in the time Lev knew them, but he didn’t like knowing he was the one to trigger Nik’s.

So Lev spent his time napping, as he had for the past month or so, hoping that sleep would magically cure the fact that he’d been dead not too long ago. Or at least make everything hurt a little less. It hadn’t helped anything. Telling them. And maybe that was because of how he’d told them about the pregnancy he’d hidden and lost. The bitter taste of anger still frightened him; it wasn’t natural for him. It felt wrong.

It took Lev a good long while to realize Cameron was leaning against the doorway. Lev tucked his arm under his cheek so he could peer at Cameron a bit more, and gave a quiet, “Hi. Everything okay?”

“Ash will be here in a little bit. You need to get out of bed.”

Lev blinked. Cameron was already gone, so Lev slid out of bed, pausing long enough to slide on one of Nik’s hoodies that he’d stolen several days ago. He figured that and the pair of boxers he’d slept in were good enough. He stuffed his hands in the pockets and shuffled after Cameron. At least he was allowed to nowadays. He nodded awkwardly at the sentries he passed, and found Cameron, as expected, in the kitchen.

Lev settled at the table, watching Cameron make lunch. “Do you want to talk about...” He hesitated, and just left it at that.

Cameron glanced up at him. “Start talking.”

Fair enough. “I never got the chance to decide if I was going to tell you,” Lev admitted quietly. “Before I died. That I was pregnant.”

Cameron was quiet for a minute. “Did you have it confirmed?”

Lev hesitated. “No,” he admitted. “But too many... symptoms lined up. I didn’t get the chance. I just panicked. I couldn’t think.”

“Sounds about right. It was your choice either way, about what to do about it. I’m sure I would have agreed with whatever you wanted.”

“I know,” Lev said. “Just from how you’re handling Nik’s pregnancy.” He watched Cameron for a few minutes, and then said, “He knew. When he killed me.”

Cameron looked his way, for a bit. Lev waited him out patiently, but in the end Cameron said, “That does sound like my brother.”

With a sigh, Lev looked down at the table. “There’s more,” he said eventually. “He said Eden is his.” He mulled over the memories, trying not to flinch at the fresh reminder of pain. “He... implied there might be more than just Eden. But he could have been- by that point I was very confused.”

Cameron gave a forceful sigh, and said, “That also sounds like my brother,” before going back to chopping vegetables.

Lev nodded slowly. “I wanted it,” He finally admitted. “I still do. And it kills me that- I lost it.”

“What would you like me to do?”

“There’s nothing we can do,” Lev replied. “It’s not- I just have to learn how to live with it. And... making sure Nik is healthy and as close to happy as we can get him is more important. But I thought- if it had to come out, you should know, I probably- I would have chosen to keep the baby.”

Cameron put down the knife. He rubbed his eyes, before saying, “I’m sorry I didn’t protect you.”

“I left,” Lev replied. “And you said you wouldn’t make me stay. I made that choice. It was a terrible one, and I lost everything because of it. But it was mine.” He tapped his fingers on the table.

“Well.” Cameron said. “Do you want another one?”

Lev blinked. “Eventually,” he admitted after a moment. “But not now. I don’t want to- Nik comes first. He needs us more than I want a child. I waited almost a hundred and fifty years to find someone I felt safe enough to want a child with anyone. I can wait more, if that’s an open ended offer.”

“We’ll see.”

Lev had to smother the instinct to try to take it back, to ask if they could- but he’d meant it. Nik needed him. And Lev had Eden. Would have whatever child Nik did, if Nik decided to keep it. And besides. Things were... messy right now.

“Cameron?” Lev said quietly. “I’m... I’m sorry. And I know words won’t fix what I did. So I’ll do my best to show it. Everything, but especially what happened with Nik.”

“Yes,” Cameron said, icily. “I imagine you would feel sorry for telling a suicidal nineteen year old to stay dead.” Cameron went back to slicing vegetables with careful precision. “I’m sure Nik has forgiven you, though.”

“He’s not the only person I wronged, though,” Lev replied.

“Hm.”

Lev waited, but when nothing else was forthcoming, he nodded at nothing. Rather than continue digging, he settled his chin on his hands and watched Cameron cook in silence. When Cameron put a fancy salad in front of him, Lev mumbled a thank you and poked at it and blinked gratefully at Cameron when he handed Lev some ranch.

While Lev dug in with a little more enthusiasm, Cameron left, presumably to go get Nik. When Nik plopped down beside him, he looked a little sick. Lev patted his knee in comfortingly, but Nik just wrinkled his nose.

“What are we? Rabbits? I thought demons eat people. Why the fuck are we eating salads?”

“There’s chicken in the salad,” Lev offered helpfully. “It’s healthy to eat a vegetable or two, Nik.”

“Yeah, if you’re a rabbit.”

Lev bit his shoulder lightly. “Or in need of some vitamins.”

Nik shot him a dirty glare. “Fine,” he grumbled.

Lev hummed and took another bite.

Ash showed up while Cameronw as cleaning up, before Lev could go back to bed. Probably for the best. Ash hadn’t approved the amount of moping Lev had been doing lately. Lev waved at Ash, giving a small hello.

Ash lifted a brow. “Hi.”

Lev watched Ash for a moment, and then said, “How’s Lucas?”

Ash smiled. “An angel. Compared to Eden.”

“Do you know when we can bring her home?” Lev asked hesitantly. He missed his little monster, and he was quite sure she missed him too.

“I’m sure Bay would let you take her right now, if you wanted.”

Lev perked up a little, but then settled again. “We can’t until you say I’m healthy enough to handle it,” he said solemnly. “And I don’t want to rush it and get sick again, if you don't think I am.”

“Well. I think one final check up is in place. You seem to be keeping your food down. And, you know, not dying. Maybe then you can bring her home.”

Lev nodded, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “Okay,” he said agreeably. “Can we start?”

“So it looks like you’re doing pretty good,” Ash confirmed an hour later. “All things considered anyway. But you shouldn’t strain yourself or push your luck. I don’t want you lifting more than thirty pounds until I give the okay.”

Lev nodded vigorously. “I understand,” he promised.

Ash stared him down. “If you lift more than that, I will know.” Coming from Ash, that was more a threat than a promise.

“I know,” Lev promised.

“Good,” Ash said. “Bay also wants to see you.”

If it hadn’t been that tone, Lev might not have paid attention. “See me?” Lev asked slowly. “Or... see me see me?”

“What do you think?”

Right. Lev swallowed. “When?” He finally asked.

“Well,” Ash said, “As soon as I gave the green light. And I just did.”

“O-oh.” Lev looked down at what he was wearing. Still in boxers and Nik’s hoodie. “I should get dressed, then,” he said. “And... ask Cameron to drive me?”

“Probably a good idea. I doubt you can drive.”

Lev shook his head, flushing. He stood, looking to Cameron, who had stuck around. “Is that okay?”

Cameron nodded. “Go get ready.”

Lev nodded. “I’ll get Nik?” he said, backing for the door.

“He’s by the pool.”

Lev scooted down the hall, trotting to the pool. Nik was on the edge of the pool, feet in the water. “Nik,” Lev said. “I gotta go see Bay,” he said, settling beside Nik.

Nik toed the water. “Hm?”

“I don't think this is the sort of talk I can wear just your hoodie and some jeans to,” he said. “You know more about clothes. Can you help me?”

Nik splashed the water a bit with his foot, and then stood. He pulled Lev towards the house again. “I think I got something you can wear.”

Lev nodded, tucking himself into Nik’s side. Nik pulled away only to go digging through Lev’s closet. While he waited, Lev settled on the bed. He pulled off Nik’s hoodie and folded it while he waited for Nik to pull things out.

Eventually Lev found himself dressed in dark jeans and a grey henley. Nik stuck him in a blazer and tried to put him in a pair of white sneakers.

“Aren’t my converse good enough?” Lev protested.

“Considering you came to me for fashion advice, what do you think?”

“That I’m going to be very uncomfortable,” Lev mumbled, reaching for the shoes Nik picked.

“Well it either these or dress shoes,” Nik said, even as Lev put them on. Lev stuck his tongue out at Nik in reply. Nik just lifted an eyebrow. Instead of saying anything, Lev kissed his cheek.

“Are you ready yet?” Cameron asked from the doorway.

Lev pulled away from Nik. “Do I look okay?”

“You look like a gay high school principal,” Nik said solemnly, just as Cameron said, “You look respectable.”

He felt ridiculous, but he supposed that would have to do. He fussed with the blazer and looked at Nik. “Anything else I need?”

Nik pursed his lips. “Spectacles?”

“I can see just fine, Nikolas.”

“I didn’t say you were blind,” Nik said. “I just said you needed glasses.”

Cameron looked annoyed, but Nik’s teasing had eased some of Lev’s anxiety. He took Nik’s hand, and said firmly, “No glasses,” before looking at Cameron. “I think I’m ready to go now?”

Cameron’s answer was to simply leave, so Lev tugged Nik along after. He opened the front seat door for Nik.

Nik made a face. “Is this because I’m pregnant?”

Lev kissed his nose. “It’s because I’m a romantic. And a thank you for helping me figure out what to wear.”

“Uh huh,” Nik said, sliding into his seat.

Lev decided to ignore that, and got in the backseat.

---

It surprised no one that Eden was throwing a fit when they got there. Lev could hear her before Silas even opened the door. The bigger angel stared down at him with wide eyes, like he didn’t really believe Lev was there, but Lev peered around him.

“Is Eden okay?” Lev blurted.

Silas blinked, stepping back automatically. “Uh, yeah. She just- I don’t even know, she’s just angry.”

“Hm,” Lev said, ducking around him. He didn’t have to go far to see Eden tottering down the hallway, screeching around a stuffed giraffe with big black tears rolling down her grey cheeks. She stopped when she saw him so abruptly she fell back on her butt, which really only made her wails get louder.

Lev was quick to scoop her up, murmuring comfort to her as he settled on the floor. When Eden tried to smack him, he caught her little hand easily, and despite that, she settled somewhat.

By the time Eden calmed, Lev realized that Bay and Nate were there. The moment Lev locked eyes with Bay, however, Bay said, “My office.”

Lev pulled himself to his feet and handed Eden off to Cameron, wiping a few tears off her face before following Bay back to his office.

After a moment of hesitation, Lev settled in a chair, trying not to fidget as he waited for Bay to start talking.

“I see that you’re not dead.”

Lev nodded. “I think it was a bit touch and go there for a little bit,” he admitted. After a second, he added, “Once they brought me back. I was definitely dead for a bit there.”

“Ash did seem irritable lately.”

Lev winced at that. “I’m sorry,” he said automatically.

Bay leaned back in his chair, watching him expectantly. “Ash is always like that,” he eventually said.

“Oh.” Lev considered that. “I didn’t see much of him before I died. I think the last time I saw him for any extended time was the night I left Remiel.” He thought for another second. “He seemed irritable then, too, now that I think about it.”

“Hm,” Bay said.

Lev fiddled with his sleeve.

“I’m assuming that Ash told you I wanted to speak to you now that you’re not in danger of dying again.”

After a second, Lev nodded. “He did,” he finally said.

“I’m assuming you know why.”

Lev stared at him for the longest moment. Eventually he said, trying very hard to not sound unsure, “It’s about Nik. Or- what I did while I was dead, with Nik- and- that.”

“It has nothing to do with Nik, and everything to do with the fact that you ignored and disobeyed a direct order from your king.”

“Oh,” Lev said in a small voice. “I- oh.”

“Oh, indeed.”

Lev swallowed. “I don’t have any excuses,” he finally said. “And I’m not going to waste your time trying to think of any.”

“Probably wise. You don’t need to dig yourself a deeper hole.”

Lev watched Bay for several awkward minutes. “I’m assuming there’s consequences,” he finally said.

“Correct.”

“Okay,” Lev said simply. Hadn’t he asked for exactly that, days ago when he’d shattered Cameron’s dishes?

“I’ll even let you choose.”

That got a blink from Lev. “Choose?”

“Well I was thinking nineteen years imprisonment, no contact with outside sources,” Bay said. “All your assets and lands would be seized, all titles forfeit. You would have nothing and be nothing.”

Nineteen years. One for every one that Nik had lived, Lev assumed. “And the other option?” he finally said.

“Exile with the same stipulations, except it’s for fifty-seven years,” Bay said levelly. “I’ll leave the choice to you. Choose now.”

For a few moments, Lev stared blankly, thoughts spinning too fast to catch. After a couple heartbeats, though, he forced himself to focus. “I can’t- I won't - put Eden though losing me again,” he said finally. “I’ll- I’ll go into exile. She needs me.”

“Fine. You’ll have twenty-four hours to say your goodbyes and leave the territory. If you’re still here when your twenty-four hours are up, you’ll spend the fifty-seven years in a cell.”

It took a few seconds to click. “O-oh. Okay.” He stood, and then hesitated. “Thank you. You didn’t have to give me any time at all.”

“I know,” Bay said. “My actions have consequences too.”

Lev backed out of the room, sidestepping sentries until he could lean against a wall and breathe. He wasn’t sure he’d made the right decision, but- he’d missed four months of Eden’s life. He’d missed her first steps. He didn’t want to miss anything else.

To his surprise, no one interrupted him. He had all the time and space he needed to gather himself before he went to find the others.

Nate was the first person he ran into. Guilt twisted Lev’s stomach up in knots, but he blurted out a quick and fierce, “I am so sorry,” before Nate could say anything at all.

Even Nate’s kindness was clearly strained. “You should be,” Nate replied. “You almost cost me my brother.”

“I know,” Lev said in a small voice. “I wasn’t- I was wrong. He’s so young. And I was selfish. But I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make up for even a fraction of what I would have cost everyone if he’d stayed dead. He deserves that and so much more.”

Nate cocked his head, but didn’t say anything at all.

“I know Nik forgave me, but he shouldn’t have. I haven’t done anything to deserve it yet.”

“Hm. Of course he did. Nik will forgive anyone he loves.”

The fact that Nate, of all people, was being so abrupt with him hurt. Nate was the kindest person Lev had ever met. But Lev’s betrayal had cut deep, and he knew it. “I’ll take care of him,” Lev promised, forcing some spine in his tone. “I promise.”

“Good. Be sure that you do.”

Lev nodded, and slipped around him. He found them in the kitchen. Cameron was holding Eden, looking annoyed, and Nik was sitting at the counter, chewing anxiously on one of his bracelets. The first thing Nik said when he saw Lev was, “Are you okay?”

At some point Bay had joined the rest of them, and had Lucas in his arms. Lev glanced in his direction as he crossed the room to Nik’s side. Lev leaned into Nik, pressing his nose to Nik’s neck. “I’m okay,” he promised. He looked at Cameron anxiously. “I’m being exiled, for fifty-seven years.”

Cameron didn’t even blink. “I suppose that’s better than the alternative.”

Lev winced. “The other option was being in a cell for nineteen years.” He could feel Nik tensing underneath him.

“That’s bullshit,” Nik said loudly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Eden was getting restless, giving a small cry

“Yes, I did. Bay ordered me to leave you alone. I did not. Technically, disobeying my king is a form of treason,” Lev offered softly.

“Yeah, well, that’s because Bay’s an emotionally constipated dick,” Nik retorted.

Nate gave a small, “Nik, please. There are two infants in the house.”

Lev fisted his hand in Nik’s shirt, biting Nik’s shoulder in warning. “It’s okay,” he said as firmly as he could, before looking at Cam. “I can stay, can't I?” He stopped, and then asked, “I mean, can I stay?” He didn’t add that he didn't have anywhere to go; it would have felt manipulative.

“Of course you can stay, that’s your home,” Nik said sharply.

Lev pulled back, looking at him. “It’s not my house,” he said simply. “It’s why I’m asking Cameron.” He switched his gaze to Cameron. “After everything, you have every right to say no.”

Cameron bounced Eden lightly. “Nik wants you there.” That seemed to be the end of what Cameron wanted to say.

Lev touched Nik’s chest lightly. Before he could figure out what to say, Nik once again tensed underneath him. Lev followed his gaze to the man that stood in the doorway. He looked almost like Nate, with the fine boned features and longer hair. It took several seconds to recognize him as Az’ril.

Nik and Nate’s father.

Out of the corner of Lev’s eye he saw Nate looked at the ground. Nik, on the other hand, glared at his father. “What are you doing here?” Nik demanded hotly. “Scare any children lately?”

Az’ril leveled Nik a look. “Nikolas. I see you’re just as crass as ever.”

Nik pursed his lips, but before he could say anything, Bay said, “Az’ril that’s enough. You’re here to see me.” Bay handed Lucas to Nate. “We’ll take this to my office.”

As Az’ril left, Lev realized Nik was trembling. When he realized Cameron was approaching, he moved so Cameron could hand Eden over.

Lev swallowed. “Can you take me to see Reneé and Amara?” he asked Cameron.

“We should probably get going then. You can’t have long before your sentence goes into effect.”

He wasn’t wrong. Lev caressed Eden’s cheek lightly.

“Do you want to take Eden with you?” Nate offered. “It won’t take long to pack up her stuff.”

Lev looked to Cameron hopefully. “Can we?”

Cameron inclined his head. “Might as well.”

Lev smiled at Nate. “Can I help pack?”

---

Lev tried to stay engaged on the ride to Reneé’s apartment. She seemed happier, with her own place, andfreer, almost. Amara never showed up, even though Lev texted her to let her know what was going on. He tried not to be hurt by that, and spent a lot of time hugging Raziel. Cin lurked, but he ruffled Lev’s hair when he left, though he gave Eden a wide berth.

On the way home though, it was a struggle to keep his attention on Eden. Nik was quiet too, and since Cameron didn’t bother to put on music, Eden’s babbles were the only sounds in the car.

Cameron whisked Eden away, likely to feed her and put her to bed, so Lev wandered to his bedroom and flopped down, kicking off the stupid sneakers as he did. Nik settled beside him, watching him with an unreadable expression.

“You okay?” he finally asked.

Despite his best efforts, Lev’s eyes burned. “I’m fine,” he forced out.

Nik’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you didn’t lie to me.”

Lev considered that, and found himself closer to tears. He too a few breaths before reaching for Nik’s hand. Nik let him press it to his heart, feel the steady, if a bit fast, rhythm there. “I- I’m here. I’m home. And I’ll get to be here to raise Eden. I- I consider that just fine.” He licked his lips as he tried to explain why his chest felt so tight. It didn’t help to watch Nik’s lips thin, but Lev made himself go on. “But- even though I never considered angel territory a home- it was just where I lived. I wasn’t happy there, Nik. I didn’t feel- few enough liked me. But I still feel like I lost something today. I don’t regret choosing you and Eden over a shorter sentence. I don’t. I won’t, ever. But- I’m sad. I’m... grieving, and it feels- sounds- stupid to say that.”

“Well, yeah, I imagine being forcefully evicted from your home for the last hundred and forty years and all of your shit taken from you hurts a little bit. Even if you do romanticize it.”

Confusion was strong enough Lev’s tears never made it to his cheeks. “What do you mean romanticize it?”

“Saying that Eden and me are enough,” Nik said, sharply. “That because you love us, that's enough. It was still where you lived. It was where your family is, where you grew up. A hundred and forty years in one place and you’re perfectly ‘fine’ as you put it. That suffocating shithole is still my home, even if I was miserable there, because even if you hated it, it made you, you. So yeah. I’d say you were lying to me.”

Lev blinked. “This is why I forget how young you are,” he mumbled. “You make more sense than I ever did at nineteen.” Closing his eyes felt like a betrayal, so he just squeezed Nik’s fingers where they pressed to his chest. “I spoke the truth as I understood it,” he finally said. “But you’re not wrong. It’s... it’s a lot. And I don’t know how to process it yet. I don’t think I want to.”

Nik yanked his hand back. “Will you stop saying how young I am? I am perfectly aware of how old I am.” There was something hard in his face. “You don’t seem to care how young I am when you suck my dick.”

Now that one hurt. Because Nik was right. Lev watched him warily, unsure of how to respond just yet. It wasn’t like he could apologize. He knew how Nik flinched when someone said sorry around him. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he finally said. “I’m not good at- talking about the important things. I’m trying to be better, and it’s good that you call me out on it. Right now...” Lev trailed off, thinking hard. “Right now, I’m feeling a lot, and I don’t want to. Deflecting was automatic. I didn’t mean to lie.”

Nik watched him long enough Lev wanted to squirm. Eventually, he said, “Sure. We should probably go get Eden settled.”

Lev nodded. “Give me a few minutes?” He asked. “I’ll follow soon?”

“Okay,” Nik said, rolling off the bed.

Lev waited until it was quiet, tucking his arm under his cheek. “Darius?” he whispered. There was no answer, but Lev hadn’t expected one. “Did I make the right decision?” he asked anyway. A lump was forming, and he hated it. Hated how quick he was to cry. It made him feel weak. Childish. “Should I have come back at all? I keep making things worse.”

Something cold touched his cheek, and a shiver went down his spine. It felt like it was leeching all the feeble warmth he’d produced, especially as that cold traced down his throat.

Lev was out of the bed before he could think about it. Whatever he was supposed to understand from that didn’t matter. He took off his blazer and threw it on the bed before he followed Nik to the kitchen. He’d think about it later. Or maybe he wouldn’t.

---

Amara was exhausted by the time she made it to Biela’s palace. She’d flown the whole way there. Hadn’t even bothered to take her motorcycle. She made her way past the gates, trying to get her panting under control.

After searching the halls for a bit, Amara had herself a little more under control. Somewhere along the fifth corridor she wandered, haf hoping she didn’t find Biela, she ran into Dacia.

The plump, blonde angel sized her up with a knowing eye. “You look a little lost.” Despite those words, Dacia had a kindness to her. It reminded Amara a little of Nate, whose sheer goodness made Amara feel... a little guilty sometimes.

“I’m looking for Biela,” Amara admitted.

“I assumed. Would you like me to take you to her? Or would you like to stay a little lost for a while longer?”

Amara managed a small smile. “I have a bit of a time sensitive conversation,” she said. “As much as I’d like to be a little lost a while longer, I think I should... probably bite the bullet.”

This time Dacia looked a little grim. “Fair enough. She’s in her dance studio. I’ll take you to her.”

Amara looked down at the floor as she followed. She only looked up when they approached a pair of double doors Amara recognized. She waited until Dacia had stepped inside to poke her head in. Biela was not in her usual outfit, and she looked sweaty. If she was tired, it didn’t show.

The music Amara had barely noticed stopped the moment Biela looked her way. “What do you want?”

“Bay exiled Lev,” Amara said before she could stop herself.

“I’m aware,” Biela said. “I’m failing to see your point.”

“I made the poor choice of not keeping you informed once. I won’t do it again.” Amara fought to keep her voice steady. “I came to ask you to consider mercy. If you’ve not decided whether or not he can stay in your lands, I- he has nowhere else to go. I just- please.”

“Stop groveling. You sound pathetic.”

Amara straightened - stiffened.

Biela reached for a towel, patting her face. “Him not having anywhere else to go sounds like a poor choice on his part.”

“He made that choice because Eden needs him.”

“What is one child to thousands?” Biela asked. “That child is not your cousin’s. He has no right to her, or to be in my lands. He offers me nothing. I have to make the right decision for my people. Not an angel.”

“Then I don’t have any argument for you,” Amara replied quietly, her heart cracking just a little. “All I can do is ask for your mercy.”

Biela gave her a little smile. It wasn’t one bit friendly.

“Biela,” Dacia said softly.

Biela flicked Dacia a sharp look. “Don’t call me that.”

This time Dacia smiled, the expression small, and maybe a little fond. “Bea,” she corrected herself.

This time Biela looked a bit satisfied. “What will you give me? How much is your cousin’s life worth to you?”

“Anything,” Amara breathed. “I did all of this so he could be happy. I’ll do anything to give him that chance again.”

Biela lifted her chin ever so slightly. “Fine. I’ll restrict him to Cameron’s house. You will not see him again.” Dacia made a small noise. Biela looked a little annoyed, but added, “Until I feel otherwise. Any contact and he’s back in the ground.”

Amara swallowed the lump in her throat. “Okay,” she whispered. “Thank you, Majesty” she added, more clearly, flicking a look to Dacia to let her know she was included in Amara’s feverish gratitude.

“Anything else you came to beg me for?” Biela asked, drawing Amara’s attention back to her.

“If there’s anything I can do to- to at least- ease the effects of what I did- even if it costs me my life- I’ll do it,” Amara said, even though she knew it was stupid.

“Do not tempt me,” Biela said, turning away in a dismissal even before she clipped out a curt, “Leave.”

Tagging: @incandescent-creativity @solangelo3088 @lil-miss-red @halstudies @littleyellowdinosaur @caelisis @idreamonpaper

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #wip boost #angels and demons #ch: cameron #ch: nik #ch: eden #ch: ash #ch: bay #ch: nate #cameron and nik and lev

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just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi · 5 years ago

Text

Permission - Nik

Previous ~ Masterlist ~ Next

CW: fear of dubcon/noncon, conditioning, manhandling, prolonged strangulation, brief suicidal idealization (better off dead kinda thing), brief vomit mention,

Nik had never been ashamed of crying. It was a natural response, so why should he be? Before, he hadn’t really cared if people saw him cry.

Now, he had more reason to cry than ever.

He laid curled as small as he could. Back in his cell, he was miserable and shivering. His skin was still flush and sensitive, but he felt lightheaded and cold from blood loss. His back was the worst of all; he knew from when he reached back and his fingers found strips of his own skin. The feeling of the thick strips in his hand made his stomach curl, but he didn’t dare let himself vomit. That would surely be worse. He laid on his side, holding himself tightly. It was a hell of impossible opposites, both freezing and burning simultaneously.

No, Nik wasn’t ashamed of crying, he was ashamed of the thoughts that came with the crying.

He wished it wasn’t him. He wished that someone else would have stepped up to protect his people. Kia was so much stronger than me; she wouldn’t have given in so easily. She wouldn’t be this shivering, trembling mess. She would have been better at this. It should have been her.

He pulled himself away from that train of thought. No, he couldn’t think that way. He could never wish this pain on anyone else.

Anyone else but the vampire, he thought as he bitterly held himself tighter. His chest was still bare, but the cold stone felt, well, not good but better, on his bruised and battered body.

No, he would never wish this on Kia. She deserved to live her life, to be the person that they both knew she could be. They had been friends since childhood, and he thought of her like a sister that he never had.

Besides, humans were known for their… appetites. Either I’m not His type or that’s still yet to come. His mind was cruel, forcing scenes to the front of his mind without his permission. Scenes that flooded his system with fear and made him pull himself so close to never feel so exposed again. No, he needed to get away from this train of thought, too. Nothing had ever been suggested or even implied.

Even if it had, he would give himself every day so Kia would never have to.

Breathe in, breathe out, Nik coached himself. If there was no one else there to give him comfort, then he would do it himself. He focused on his breathing and let exhaustion take him.

When he woke again, he could feel his arms and legs again. He smiled, until the pain started to register. They were just as bruised and sore as the rest of him. He wished the numbness would have lasted until his body wasn’t so damaged. Just a bit of reprieve, please.

He flexed his fingers carefully and weighed the options. He knew healing spells. He could make himself feel better. How much is left in me? he thought. He had never needed to ask himself these questions before. There were limits to what he could do, but he had never even considered it before. He sighed. Last time He went to far, I stopped breathing. He looked at the dark, cold, removed cell around him. Maybe that’s not so bad.

Painfully, Nik pushed himself to a sitting position. As unsteady as he felt, he didn’t dare brace against a wall; not with his back in this condition. He winced as he pulled the bandage away from the cut on his arm. It was deep, but not to the bone. He pulled the words from his mind, mouthing them lightly. His eyes fluttered and he began to massage his palm. Soon, light pooled in his palm. He laid it against the wound, and waited for it close. He felt the skin pull together and go taut with a comforting warmth.

Another source of light caught his eye. The cuffs. The cuff on his left arm was glowing threateningly, pulsing and slowly warming. Before he could register what happened, pain seared through his body. He cried out and fell back to the ground. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.

A blink, and the Sorcerer was looming above him. He lightly tapped the cuff on his own wrist against Nik’s, and the pain stopped instantly. It was abrupt, and Nik felt off balance as a result.

“How dare you,” he screeched as his hand wrapped around Nik’s neck. Nik’s hands flew to his neck, to scratch and fight and breathe, but they accomplished nothing. The Sorcerer lifted him by his neck so only his bare toes grazed the floor. Panic set in. His breathing was shallow and restricted, every breath hindered by an iron grip. He scrambled to try to get his feet under him.

“Listen to me very carefully. We made a deal. You are mine; all mine. Every part of you, from the hair on your head to the blood coursing through your veins belongs to me.” His eyes drilled into Nik’s wide, panicked stare.

“You heal when I want you to heal, you bleed when I want you to bleed. You breathe,” the hand around Nik’s neck closed, crushing his airways. Nik scratched and kicked and fought, but his vision started to grow hazy. His head pounded and his legs grew weaker and weaker. He tried to plead, to beg. The vampire had once called him well-spoken, perhaps Nik could convince him, but the grip was too tight.

He could feel just how crushed his airways were as they pulsed with his heartbeat. He pleaded with his eyes; the man had always seemed to like his eyes.

Nothing. No pity, no mercy. His hands and feet grew still as his vision got darker and darker. Surely, he wouldn’t let him pass out; would he? Nik’s last coherent thought was overpowered by raw, animalistic panic.

Nik gasped awake, held by his shoulders to the wall. Before the open wounds on his back could rear in pain, his throat cried out. Even without the hand, it was still partially closed and painful. Gasps of dry air might as well have been glass, shredding and tearing through his throat.

“Did I say you could breathe?” came a voice. Nik’s head spun and ached. He couldn’t even form words in his mind. The hand returned to his neck, and Nik’s body went rigid. The grip, the pressure on already damaged skin was unbearable. Nik’s body burned as already exhausted muscles fought again for survival. Darkness came quicker this time, but it still came.

He gasped awake again, hazy and unfocused. He was still pinned against the wall, but he felt as if he was floating. His body didn’t register; not pain or cold or even discomfort.

“Again, you insolent creature; did I give you explicit permission to breathe?” Nik’s mind shot back as the hand laid against his throat. Please, no, please, no no no. I can’t, I can’t, please I need to breathe, please, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Nik’s mind protested, but none of the words could make it to his lips.

Fear and panic overrode his system, taking control away from him. Instinct kicked in, but a different instinct this time. He pressed his mouth closed and held his breath. His heartbeat pounded through his skin. Surely the man could feel it? He can tell right? I’m not breathing. Please Gods let him know I’m not breathing. I’ll obey, please let me breathe. Please, I need air. I need to breathe.

“Good. Breathe.”

Nik gasped, taking in as much air as he could. He sputtered and coughed, filling his lungs as quickly as he could. His throat still burned, like the air was made of hot coals. A hand gently cupped the side of his face, sending a shiver down his spine.

“You’re mine. You follow my explicit permission. You obey me regardless of what your mind and body tell you. Do you understand?”

Nik moved to open his mouth, then closed it quickly. Is this a trap? Am I supposed to answer? Is a question explicit permission? His thoughts raced, trying desperately to figure out the right answer. There must be a right answer. He needed the right answer. His eyes flicked up to try and read the face of the Sorcerer to try and gather more information. At the furious glare, pure dread filled him as he realized he never gave any answer.

A fist knocked his head to the side, white exploding in his vision. His ears rung and drowned out the sound of his own body crashing to the ground. The ringing bore through his mind as a flurry of kicks broke his ribs and battered his already weak frame. His body tried to curl in to protect itself, but it was never allowed. When he finally snapped back to his body, his back was pressed down hard against the gravel floor. His back roared and seized, rising above the other pain that ravaged his body. He cried out, voice already breaking from use and fear. He could feel his ribs bend dangerously far underneath the boot that pressed him down.

“Why did you not answer me? You obey me! Tell me!”

“P-P-Please, Sir,” his voice was broken and split, hoarse from crying out and strained from lack of use. “Y-you, you never g-gave me, ex-xplic-cit permission. I’m s-s-s-sorry”. Tears rolled down the side of his face.

The boot lifted immediately. Nik desperately needed to breath, but he tried to keep it shallow and unnoticeable. His eyes were shut tightly, as if not seeing the blows would make them hurt less.

A soft laugh. A hand cupped the side of his face again. Unsure of what to do, Nik remained perfectly still. No instructions, wait for instructions. Please god let me breathe. Please don’t hurt me again. I’ll obey. I promise; just let me breathe

“You’re not as stupid as those other creatures, are you? You are actually capable of thought.”

Was that a compliment? Was that good? No permission to respond, so he tried to stay as still as possible. He tried desperately to calm the full body trembles, but nothing worked.

Just wait. Just wait for permission and don’t move. Don’t move a muscle.

The Sorcerer wound a long strip of fabric many times over his eyes, keeping them closed tightly. A punishment for using his own magic to heal himself. That, and the beating he had received. Nik laid on the ground, exhausted and in pain. If he ever could have willed himself to pass out, to drift away into hazy darkness, he would have.

~~~

@luminouswhump @lonesome–hunter @pepperonyscience @insanitywishes

#iwrotethis #whump #nik #whumper #magic whump #poor boi #he's trying his best #implied non-con tw #conditioning tw #Magic whumpee #non human whumpee #vomit mention #death thoughts #strangulation tw

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gothpanda · 5 years ago

Text

A Little Bit of Attitude Ch. 15: You Should’ve Been Smart

WORD COUNT: 7.1K

A/N: Did you guys know Times Square was slutty in the 80s? Anyway enjoy!

Warnings: Language, Drug mention

Tag list: @madamsixx

Previous/Next

Read on Ao3

JANUARY 28th 1984

NEW YORK CITY

Doc and Sammi stood in the middle of a high-level glamour hotel, resting against the cherry oak wood desk. Sammi wiped away the barely-there snow off her heavy coat, trying her best to warm up. She saw the passing of professional business people, walking in like they knew they owned New York City. Sammi's daydreaming was cut short, feeling a strict hand on her shoulder.

"Here go, Sammi. Give the boys their room keys for the night. Room 543 has the double beds for Tommy and you," Doc said, passing four shiny gold keys into Sammi's hands. "And please tell the boys to stay in their rooms tonight. I'm already getting warnings from both Elektra & Ozzy's people."

Sammi gave the nod to Doc, "Is there anything else you need me to do afterward?"

"No, I need to head up and do some paperwork. Just give the boys to their rooms, and you can call it a night," Doc said, giving Sammi a professional smile and pat on his assistants' shoulders.

"Aye aye captain. Wish me luck," Sammi said, giving a salute to Doc and spinning on the balls of her feet, heading to the glass revolving door. The air became colder with snow picking up, covering the sidewalk. Sammi's nose and cheeks turned red as she jogged her way into the city garage. Music and chatter could be heard from the outside when Sammi reached the door, swinging it open to hearing the loud laughs of Tommy. The tour assistant climbed up the bus, pulling out all the keys for the guys.

"Okay, boys! Listen up!" Sammi yelled, clapping her hands together. The sound of a glass bottle falling onto the carpeted bus floor was the only response Sammi received. Nikki, Tommy, and Vince chuckled, playfully hitting each other in the arms. Mick is the only standing for his orders. "Or at least try," Sammi muttered.

"I have all of your guys' room keys. Mick, you are in room 549." Sammi said, walking up to Mick.

"Nikki, your ass is staying in room 545," Sammi said, tossing the bass player his room key. "Vince, you will be in room 547. And Tommy, you and I will be in room 543, since that's the only room with two beds," The guys muttered amongst themselves in agreement.

"Oh, and another thing. You guys cannot leave your rooms for the rest of the night. Doc's order," Sammi said, placing her hands on her lips. Nikki, Tommy, and Vince groaned like toddlers, annoyed with the simple command.

"Why do we have to stay? It's barely fucking 8," Nikki said, slumping down on the nearest chair.

"Because you guys are already causing shit with Doc and Elektra. It's barely been three weeks, and you've caused so much shit. Well expect Mick," Sammi said, crossing her arms.

"Well, what if we don't want to? What makes you the boss of us?" Vince asked, walking right up to Sammi with crossed arms and a pouty lip. Sammi only rolled her eyes, readjusting her beanie. "Just listen to her, Blondie. You do it anyway," Mick said, grabbing a bottle of water from the mini-fridge.

"I'm technically the boss you because I was told to keep you guys in check," Sammi said. "You three can't be nice for one second and listen to me? I'll get you guys whatever you want if you call up me and Tommy's room,"

Nikki and Tommy still groaned from the idea, trying their hardest to make Sammi crack from being responsible. "What do I have to do to have you guys fucking listen? I'll do anything," Sammi tried to plead with Motley.

"You can sleep in room 545 tonight, and maybe I'll stay in my room," said Nikki, giving out his smirk. Tommy didn't let time pass, smacking Nikki right across his head almost on his ear as Tommy stood above him. Nikki winched at the pain, rubbing his head and giving his best friend an icy stare. Sammi shook her head, shutting her eyes at the sight of Thing 1 & 2.

"Any other way for you all to stay in your rooms?" Sammi asked.

"How about you and I get to have the double bedroom?" Vince asked, swinging an arm around Sammi. She rolled her eyes with a smile on her face. "I'll stay put knowing I got a bigger room for two days,"

"Ask Tommy to switch, and maybe you'll get it," Sammi said with a raised eyebrow to Vince.

"I don't mind switching. It would be great to have a room to myself for the night," Tommy said, grabbing his unfinished soda on the table. "I promise I'll stay in my room if we switch," beaming a smile.

"How is it you hit me in the head when I want to room with Sammi, but you're fine with Vince rooming with Sam?" Nikki asked, wrinkling his eyebrows to Tommy. "That's a little unfair, don't you think,"

"You want to share a bed with my sister. Vince just wants a bigger room, and I get to be by myself," said Tommy, sipping his drinking. "I love you, Nik, but it's still Sam we're talking about," Nikki glared at Sammi, raising an eyebrow, bouncing his leg up and down. Sammi looked away from him, leaning herself onto Vince.

"Just switch the keys and lets fucking get to sleep. I'm weathering away standing here," Mick said, getting his duffle bag from the chair and stepping off the bus. Vince threw his room key to Tommy, grabbing his luggage for the night. Sammi grabbed her purse and double checked everything on the bus, playfully pushing Vince out of the bus with her. Nikki stared down onto the floor, leaving him alone for a moment. He fumbled with a baggie of barely anything, slumping more into the chair. "Nikki, hurry your ass up! I have to lock the bus already!" Sammi yelled on the outside.

"Hold your horses, Princess," Nikki shouted, dipping his finger and rubbing his gums.

The hotel room for the night was the prettiest they've seen while on tour. Vince was right on getting a bigger room with the two king-sized beds. Fluffy pillows on the bed, a stocked mini-fridge of alcohol and snacks, and a decent sized bathroom with a shower and tub. Dropping all of their bags on the floor, Sammi kicked off her boots and heavy jacket. Vince turned on the lamp next to the T.V., enjoying the warmth of the room with dim lighting. Immediately, Sammi dropped herself face-first on the soft duvet, groaning in relief. Vince chuckled at the sight of Sammi, appearing like a starfish on the king-sized bed. Vince jumped up in the air, slamming his back right next to Sammi, hearing her muffle a welp in a surprise from the jump. Sammi turned on her back, stretching her arms above her head, getting to listen to her spine pop. Vince yawned for a moment, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.

"I'm so happy we're finally gonna have a day off. I'm so tired," Sammi mumbled

"I know. Three weeks and I'm dead," said Vince, scratching his head. Sammi leaned on her elbows, looking down on Vince with scrunched eyebrows.

"Are you serious? All you do is give Doc and me a headache! You hardly listen to anything we say," chuckled with sarcasm. Vince's jaw dropped dramatically, sitting up from his spot.

"I jump up and down on stage and sing! That's tiring!" Vince said, pinching Sammi's sides. Sammi squirms in bed, letting out a screech. Sammi pushed Vince's arms away from her body, grabbing a pillow to shield herself.

"Vincent, every time I ask for your help to go to the laundromat, you bail because you sleep all day!" Sammi said, smacking Vince in the face with her pillow. "All the shit you four wear is way too delicate to wash. Also, you and guys just do reckless shit!" Sammi tried to hit Vince with the pillow again, only to get it ripped out of her hands. Vince playfully hit the back of Sammi's head, chuckling along with Sammi's screams of joy. "You're hitting me because you know I'm right!" Sammi said, kicking the pillow out of Vince's hands. Sammi sat up, fixing the flyaways of her hair while giggling along with Vince. "Admit it, I'm right," Sammi said, smacking Vince with the pillow from the floor.

"I was hitting you so you can shush up." Vince giggled, throwing the pillow across the room. He caught his breath from laughing, resting a hand on Sammi's knee, seeing her smile at him. Vince cleared his throat, averting his attention to his shoes, kicking them off to try to look somewhere else. "I promise I'll help you next time," Vince said, laying back down, interrupted by the phone ringing on the nightstand. Vince sat up against the headboard, holding up the phone to his ear. "Ello, Neil-Bass Residence. How can I help you?" Vince said, faking a voice that almost resembled Mr. Bass.

"Vin, pass the phone to Sammi," Nikki said, sounding anxious from the few words. "I need to ask her something,"

Vince rolled his eyes and shook his head, "What do you want Nik? It's only been 20 minutes," Sammi's ears perked up from hearing Nikki, trying to listen attentively.

"I need Sammi to get booze and coke from Doc. You know he keeps it in his suitcase," Nikki said. "I have to do some writing, and I need my creative juice. Come on, stop being a dick and pass the fucking phone,"

Vince gently hit his head against the headboard, seeing Sammi look curious to him. "Nik shut up, Sammi's tired. I'm pretty sure you can write new lyrics without coke, you've done it before. I'm pretty sure there's whiskey in the mini-"

Sammi ripped the phone out of Vince's hand, sitting up next to him. "Hey, Nikki, what do you need?" Vince huffed in annoyance, rolling his eyes and head away from Sammi only crossed his arms.

Nikki smirked on his end of the phone, "I need a little coke and whiskey from Doc. You said not to leave, so I'm hoping you can help your favorite rockstar," Sammi chuckled. At the same time, Vince only closed his eyes, letting his head hit the headboard from the sound of Nikki flirting.

"Favorite rockstar is a little much, I think Tommy has that spot saved. I'll be there in a minute, Nik. Don't worry," said Sammi, shutting the phone across from Vince. Vince wrinkled his nose together, glaring at Sammi as she got up from the bed. She put her boots back on, tying the laces in a knot.

"I thought you off the clock once we got to our rooms?" Vince asked.

"Yeah, but I still have to keep you guys in check. Besides, it's just like if I got water for someone," Sammi said, placing one hand on her hip.

"Water isn't the same thing as drugs and alcohol, Sam," Vince said, eyeing Sammi.

Sammi rolled her eyes with a shake from her head, "Okay Vince whatever you say,"

"Well, if you're gonna be a drug trafficker, you better get me some coke and a full bottle of whiskey while you're at it," said Vince, taking off his boots and chucking them away from him. Sammi stood in front of him, crossing her arms and looked down towards him.

"Calm the fuck down scarface. If you ask nicely, I'll get you coke and Jack Daniels to shut you up," Sammi said, smiling.

Vince gazed up at Sammi, biting the inside of his cheek, "Can you please bring a bottle of Jack for you and me with some coke on the side,"

"Of course, Sir. I'll be right back with your order," said Sammi, patting the blonde's head with a smile. With the door closing behind Sammi, Vince threw himself on the bed. He ran his hands over his face, giving a loud sigh.

Sammi stood in front of the light yellow door, knocking gently against it. She leaned against the door frame while yawning, becoming more repetitive as the night grew. Once Doc opened the door, Sammi pulled a Tommy-like smile to her boss, gaining an eyebrow raise. "Can I help you, Sammi?" Doc said, moving aside to let Sammi into his room.

"I need essentials for Nikki's writing process and to be a nice friend to Vince. Maybe also some drinks for the guys," Sammi said, shooting a tight-lipped smile to her boss. Doc huffed at Sammi, walking over to his briefcase to reveal individual bags of coke. Sammi's eyes popped out of her head as she saw the entire organization Doc had for drugs.

"You know Sammi, you can always just say no to the boys every once in a while," Doc said, grabbing three bags of coke, two of them having significantly less. Sammi opened the mini-fridge, pulling out a bottle of vodka and 2 of Jack Daniels. She shoved the baggies in her back pocket, not saying a word to Doc. She knew he had a point. "Give a smaller amount to Nikki and Tommy. Don't want them jumping off the walls," Doc said, sitting back down in the office chair. Sammi nodded to Doc, grabbing the three bottles of alcohol for the guys.

"I will. Goodnight, Doc!" Sammi said, closing the hotel door behind her. She was lucky all the rooms were close by, not having to balance bottles in her arms for long. Sammi knocked on room 549, holding on the glass bottles tighter. Mick opened the door wide, wrinkling his eyebrows in a scowl as he saw Sammi in front of him.

"Surprise! A little drink before bed! Better than small hotel bottles," said Sammi with a pearly white smile. Mick mustered a small smile, happily taking the vodka for himself. "Goodnight, Mick,"

"Thanks, little one, and goodnight," said Mick, shutting the door.

Sammi shuffled through the halls, stopping in front of room 547, where she knocked on the door with her boot. The running steps came from the other side, getting Tommy to open the door fast and wide. Tommy raised an eyebrow to Sammi, eyes going wide with curiosity to two Jack Daniels. "Whatcha doing, Sammi?" Tommy asked, leaning against the doorframe. She pulled out a baggie to her brother's eyes, seeing him smile like a little boy on Christmas. "Thanks, Sammi!" said Tommy, snatching his favorite white powder from his sister's hand. Sammi giggled, shaking her head at Tommy. "You're welcome. You can thank Nikki for making me get coke," Sammi said, walking her way down to Nikki's room.

In front of Room 545, Sammi knocked hard against the wood in hopes of making Nikki listen. Nikki opened with a smirk on his face, stepping aside to bring Sammi in. She matched his grin, strutting to see Nikki had made himself at home with his jackets and shoes thrown around. Sammi placed the whiskey bottle on the nightstand and pulled out the baggie from her jean pocket. She held it between her fingers, holding it upright under Nikki's nose. "Thank you, Princess. I knew I could count on you to deliver," Nikki said, taking it from Sammi with a smirk. Sammi only tapped Nikki on the shoulder, looking down to the ground as she began walking to the door. Nikki took a quick hold of Sammi's wrist, "You're not gonna stay for a bit?"

"I'm sorry, Nik, I have to go back to Vince. He asked for some whiskey, so I can't disappoint," Sammi said. Nikki let go of her wrist immediately, dropping down onto the bed. "Alright, Sam. Night," Sammi only pressed her lips tight to Nikki, walking out without another word. She just wanted to go to bed for another day.

Walking into the shared hotel room, Sammi threw the bag of coke to Vince, who stayed put in this place but now shirtless. He smirked at the sight of the whiskey bottle, taking it to open as Sammi sat in front of him. "So, I guess this is your bed?" Sammi asked, stealing a sip for herself.

"Not unless you wanna share for the night," Vince smirked to Sammi. She rolled her eyes, kicking off her shoes as she yawned. Sammi shook her head and dropped herself to the other bed. Vince took a bit of coke off the tip of a credit card, snorting the small amount.

JANUARY 29th, 1984

"It's amazing how one night it can be snowing hard in NYC but sunny the next," Tommy said, readjusting his sunglasses.

"Yeah, but can still freeze anything that walks," Mick said, sipping on his drink. The three guys soaked up the exposed sun from the all-around glass rooftop pool, getting a moment to feel like they were back in the California sun. Sammi laid at the edge of the pool, feet in the water, and soaking up the sun as possible on the warm rooftop. Before Vince could try to gawk at Sammi, a pretty little number in a pink bikini walked right past him, Nikki, and Tommy who all got their attention pulled. Sammi turned to see the looks on their faces, rolling her eyes as she stood up and adjusted her blue bikini top.

"How many girls have you banged?" Nikki asked Vince.

"Uh 2," said Vince, thinking for a moment.

"No, not from today since the tour started," Nikki snickered.

"Oh man, I lost track after that gangbang in Salt Lake City," Vince chuckled like a schoolboy, taking a sip of his beer with Tommy and Nikki laughing along with him. Sammi scrunched her eyebrows to the guys with a frown.

"That's why we couldn't find you?" Sammi says, tying her hair up in a ponytail. Vince's chuckling soon ended but didn't stop from the Terror Twins. Sammi could only shake her head to the three men. Mick shook his head, "You don't think the slobs that fuck you guys, probably fucks every other band who comes through town?"

"Yeah. Yes, they do!" Nikki said, laughing along with all the guys.

"Man we're like pussy brothers with the whole scene!" Tommy said with a chuckle.

"I happen to have respect for myself and the females of our species, unlike you animals," Mick said, putting on his sunglasses and crossing his arms. Sammi smiled at Mick, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Vince stayed silent in his pool chair, sipping his Corona beer. "Thank you, Mick. It's great to know someone still respects women, unlike your three bandmates," Sammi said, sitting down next to him. Nikki only bit on the straw of his drinking, looking ahead of him.

"Hey I respect you and Athena," Tommy mumbled. The guys wanted to argue with Sammi but couldn't help get their attention pulled by the Prince of Darkness himself coming in wearing a sundress. He pranced around the pool, pulling up his dress to show off his bare ass with a dollar bill right between his cheeks. Nikki, Tommy, and Vince all laughed like madmen while Mick tried his best to repress his chuckle. Sammi only rolled her eyes, trying her best to make herself small.

"Afternoon, Oz! Can I get a refill?" Nikk shouted, raising his glass to Ozzy as the singer walked up to Motley. "How about this love?" Ozzy said, lifting the front of his dress, flashing everyone. Sammi shields her eyes behind her hands with her cheeks turning red from surprise. Mick stopped chuckling when noticing Sammi's discomfort, turning back into his cold demeanor. "Gotta hand it to ya Oz. All these years and you're still keeping up with us kids," Nikki said to Ozzy, seeing the English man walk up the lifeguard post.

"I fucking lapped ya, mate! Come close, Uncle Ozzy needs to give a life lesson to youse youngins," said Ozzy, looking down at everyone. Sammi wanted to stay in her seat, but Tommy pulled her up with him, dragging her along to the crazy man. "This is your second proper tour, so be careful. A life of booze, drugs, and unprotected sex is only gonna fuck ya up. Take it too far, and you'll get fucking mad!" Ozzy said, gripping onto his hair. Nikki, Tommy, and Vince laughed along with Ozzy while Mick and Sammi stayed quiet. She only scrunched her eyebrows together in a frown, keeping her distance. Ozzy jumped off the lifeguard post, stumbling on his feet to regain his balance. "Give the straw, I fancy a bump," Ozzy slurred.

"Oh sorry we're all out of blow right now, dude," Tommy said, switching glances between everyone. Ozzy still requested again with a stern voice, getting the thin straw from Tommy's drink. Ozzy looked around the concrete floor, finding two tiny black spiders near his feet. Crouched down, he snorting both the spiders as if they were cocaine. The guys groaned but laughed along with Ozzy actions, unlike Sammi who winced. "Do ya think ya ready for that man? Ya think ya ready?' Ozzy slurred to the guys before proceeding to urinate right by the pool. Nikki, Tommy, and Vince continued to groan and laugh at him. Sammi only looked out the window with Mick rubbing the front of his head. Once done, Ozzy went back down and licked up his piss, making everyone around cringe. Nikki immediately followed Ozzy, unzipping his pants, and pissed right next to him. Ozzy licked it up as well.

Mick tried his best to shield Sammi from the gross antics but failed. The young girls gagged from what was going on in front of her. Tommy barely paid attention to his sister's discomfort when hearing her gag. "You all are fucking disgusting!" Sammi shouted, storming off from the group. Tommy and Vince watched Sammi pushing the door aggressively with wide eyes, Nikki only shrugged his shoulders seeing Mick glared at him.

Sammi slammed the door shut behind her, dropping herself back first onto her bed. She ran a hand down her face, staring up at the ceiling. She thought for a while on that antics the guys have gotten that make her question certain things. While it was funny in the moment of Tommy getting chased by cops in his underwear, having to try to fix it later made Sammi think. The sound of the door carefully opening jolted Sammi up from her position. She frowned at the sight of Vince, slowly walking into the room, holding Sammi's baggie shirt. Vince kept his head low, leaning against the dresser. The two maintained silence with each other, Vince looking at the ground and Sammi questionably looking at him. "Are you just going to stand there?" Sammi asks, raising an eyebrow.

Vince looked Sammi in the eyes and sighed. "I brought you your shirt. Didn't want you to lose it..." Sammi rolled her eyes at Vince. "And I just wanted to make sure you weren't thinking of quitting on us,"

"Well, let's see, you had almost burned down Mick's room last week. Tommy has almost gotten arrested for public indecency and Nikki destroys everything around him. Maybe making pissing in public and licking it up is the straw that breaks the camel's back," Sammi said, tilting her head with raised eyebrows. "Great to see on my day off,"

Vince bit his bottom lip, looking down at his feet. "Nikki and Ozzy did go to the extreme. I'll agree with you on that," Vince mumbled.

"Which you and Tommy seem to find so amusing. Glad to know you guys have gangbangs too,"

"Sam, I'm sorry we were acting grossly around you; it was a bit disrespectful. Let me make it up to you?" Vince said, kneeling in front of Sammi. "Come on, I'm on my knees for you," Vince smirked.

Sammi giggled and matched Vince's smirk, "What do you have in mind to cheer me up?' Vince wiggled his eyebrows for a moment before getting playfully shoved. "Get dressed, Sunny, I'm taking you on out on the town,"

New York City lived up to the name of the urban jungle having taxis and people speed through the busy city. Every part of the city, Sammi and Vince walked were fast-paced, just like their lives on tour. With the freezing air, people still flooded Times Square by shopping or entering the bars. The giant coca-cola sign was set right in the middle of the square, followed by signs of X-rated material. Showing New York to be more scandalous than the Sunset Strip. Men leaning against walls peeped at every woman walking past them, whistling.

"Hey, Pretty Face! Come spend time with a real man, not a blondie like that!" a muscular man shouted to Sammi as she walked past him, getting Vince to wrap his arm around her shoulder and looking forward.

"I swear New York would be a nice place to stay if it wasn't fucking Antarctica! How the fuck does people enjoy staying in the cold," Vince wailed into the air, gaining Sammi to laugh with him. Sammi stuffed her cold hands into her pockets, eyeing all of the clothes displayed on the windows.

"I'll admit it is making me miss L.A pretty fast. We really are typical SoCal trash, huh?" Sammi said, zipping her jacket to almost cover her mouth. Vince looked around to see how many marquees had advertised peep shows for practically no money and sex stores open nearly 24 hours. He hasn't seen a regular strip club today, but he wasn't complaining at the new level of smut around him. One store painted in hot pink with black spray paint lettering caught Vince's attention the most, Sammi seeing the lingerie on silver mannequins. Vince turned his head slowly to Sammi, raising an eyebrow.

"Does going to a sex shop count as seeing the city?" Vince asked jokingly, smirking at Sammi.

"Only if it's fucking warm inside," Sammi said, pushing the glass door to step into red faux fur carpets and black velvet wallpaper all around them. Sammi scooped the store with raised eyebrows and wide eyes, viewing all the mannequins dressed in either lingerie or novelty costumes up high on the tables. Her eyes went entirely to the attention of the two employees around Sammi's age wearing revealing clothing even in the winter. Curly blonde in a black mesh top with no bra on next to a pixie cut goth girl in the same outfit behind the cash register.

"Welcome to The Velvet Room, how can I help you two?" the goth girl asked, not hiding her visible scanning of Sammi. The curly blonde couldn't help but check out Vince as soon as he walked into the door, getting almost the same look in return. Sammi couldn't help but curl her upper lip at the goth and glare at the blonde, looping her arm around Vince's.

"We're here to spice up our sex lives. Do you two have any suggestions? Considering you girls definitely look like you do," Sammi asked with a hint of sarcasm, leaning her head against Vince's shoulder with a smile. Vince only looked at the girls with wide eyes and a coy smile, trying his hardest not to break into a laugh.

"We have toys and other accessories all around. Let us know if you need any help," the blonde said. The two employees smiled to themselves, returning to their previous tasks as Sammi let go of Vince with a snared expression. Vince only scratched the front of his head. He followed her along the aisles of playboy and hustler magazines, passing by porn VHS tapes and entering the 'toy' section.

Sammi looked around the novelty section, getting her attention drawn to the displayed black metal handcuffs. "Oh hey, maybe I should buy four of these handcuffs to make sure you guys don't run away on me. It'll save me some time and headaches," Sammi said to Vince, dangling one cuff on her finger and a smirk. Vince only chuckled at the comment. He took the handcuffs from her, finding the key on the shelf and unlocking them.

"While that would make things easier for you, these are meant to spice up the bedroom. Just like you said," Vince said, snapping both cuffs around Sammi's wrists tight. "Look, they match your bracelet," Vince smirked, tapping the leather piece of jewelry. Sammi curled her lip at Vince, pulling the cuffs to try to open them.

"Vince take these off of me before I break them," Sammi said, trying her hardest to slip them off her wrists. Vince only began to chuckle to himself at Sammi's annoyed look to him.

"Oh I think someone's calling my name. I'm just gonna leave you here," Vince said, slowly drifting away from Sammi. Sammi stepped up to Vince, grabbing him by his wrist to stop him.

"Take these things off me, and maybe I'll buy you a drink," Sammi asked, pouting and fluttering her lashes that convinced Vince quickly. "Pretty sure the bar up the street is a cool place. Dontcha think, Vinnie?" Sammi said, tilting her head innocently, making Vince swallow a bit harder than usual.

Vince scuffed, obeying Sammi's orders for that free drink. Sammi smiled proudly, rubbing the itch away from the wrist. "Thank you. I am serious about those handcuffs though. They'd be great to keep Tommy from trashing hotel rooms in the future," Sammi said, walking away from the Blondie to see what else was in this place. Short skirts that barely had fabric with matching g-strings with next to them. Sammi only snared at the outfits once more; maybe at a different time, she'd get something. Vince grabbed a pair of sealed black cuffs, strolling his way to the cash register. The goth girl looked at the package and eyed Vince once more.

"Guess she was right about spicing things up," the woman said, leaning on the desk and flashing her heavyset cleavage. Vince took his chance to glance, "Always listen to the girly, am I right?" Vince smiled ear to ear tight-lipped.

The bars in Time Square weren't as different to L.A., making Sammi and Vince settle comfortably in the corner of a round booth. The atmosphere felt a bit crazier, but that's what drew people into New York City. The drinks flew in this funky looking bar, waitresses dropping off Cosmopolitans and Manhattans to almost all the tables. Sammi sipped on the pretty in pink cosmo, feeling a tad bit fancy next to Vince's Old Fashion. They felt like in their own little world, Vince only paying attention to Sammi. Sammi rambled about stories of Athena and her going to San Diego with Tommy, seeing him fail at picking a girl up. Vince finished his old fashion, a light bulb turning on in his head.

"Hey I just thought of something. How come you haven't called Britney or Amanda? You always call your folks and Athena," Vince said, motioning for another one to their server. Sammi gulped what was left of her cosmo, fixing herself in her seat.

"We haven't been talking for a while. I kinda fucked up before the tour started," Sammi said. Vince scrunched his eyebrows together to Sammi, taking a sip of his fresh drink.

"Damn Sammi, someone mad at you? What did you do, steal Amanda's hairbrush?" Vince chuckled.

Sammi rolled her eyes playfully, "I didn't tell them I was leaving until I quit my job. I told Amanda to fuck off then sped the fuck out of my apartment. That was a couple of days before we left,"

"You left? Where the hell did you go and how come you didn't tell me?" Vince asked, having a stern tone in his voice. Sammi's eyes stayed glued to the white linen-covered table, twirling the cocktail glass by the stem. "Sammi?"

"I went to Nikki's…" Sammi mumbled, averting her eyes away from Vince.

Vince only huffed and shook his head. "Weren't you still mad at him for fucking with Tommy?" Sammi nodded. "Then why the hell did you go to his tiny fucking apartment?"

"Because it was raining and I could barely see the fucking streets, his place was closer to mine," Sammi said through her teeth, glaring at Vince. "Besides Nikki already told Tommy about Roxie so fucking drop it,"

Vince rolled his eyes, drowning down his old fashion. "His place and mine are almost exactly the same distance from your place, Sammi, so don't give me that bullshit. Also, you have siblings that could've let you sleep on a sofa,"

"Why do you care so much if I stayed at Nikki's for a couple of days? Because I chose him over you?' Sammi whispered harshly, raising an eyebrow.

"Because for some reason you listen to every single word Nikki says and do it. Your brother and sister don't like him around you, even when Tommy loves Nikki," Vince said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You really need to calm down. I don't listen to everything Nikki says," Sammi said, leaning her head back against the booth and crossing her arms.

"Really, then how come you still snort when you're only with him when one of us isn't around? I know you snorted with him when we were all in Doc's room," Vince said, turning his body to Sammi. She sighed out loud, violently shaking her leg. "Now it makes sense why you two were pretty close when we got to buses back home,"

"You really cannot say shit about me getting high, which I haven't since that night in Doc's room. So shut up and think of something else to say," Sammi said, clenching her jaw.

"I really don't believe you. A couple of days in an apartment with Nikki then show up with his arm around you. Just like at the U.S. festival! My theory is still right!" Vince says, smiling for a moment, then looking to Sammi with a cold stare.

"You really want to know why I didn't show up at your place? Because chances are you had a girl over for the week before we left to fuck! Why would I want to disrupt your fun? If you want to hear if Nikki and I fucked, we didn't. So shut up, Vince," Sammi said, turning her body and Vince staring her down. "Also how would you know if I snorted at U.S.? You were on the bus almost the entire time after your set, remember?"

"That's a fucking lie. I was not on the bus the whole time," Vince said, looking away from Sammi. He could feel his heartbeat out of his chest from those words. Vince thought Sammi couldn't have known.

"Really? Because if memory serves me right, which it does since I was sober, you and Amanda went to the bus. Both of you didn't come until Van Halen was almost done with their set. So you're really going to tell me you weren't there for long?" Sammi asked, narrowing her eyes to him and slouching back. Vince bit the inside of his cheek, falling back into the booth and looking ahead of him. He could feel it in his bones now that Sammi knew something. Vince bounced his leg from the nerves, scanning the bar in front of him. Vince looked back at Sammi next to him, trying to read her face. Sammi didn't bother to look at Vince, feeling her heart pound out of her chest and palms sweat. She bit her lip, reliving having to hear what was behind the door.

"Why did you fuck Amanda?" Sammi asked with a crack in her voice, finally looking Vince in the eye. Vince dropped his head, scratching the back of his neck. The thought began running through his head, finding the right thing to say. Looking to his right, he could see big brown glossy eyes stare back at him. He felt all the air suck right out of him from the look of Sammi. Vince did not want him trying to save the day end like this.

"You said you would never hurt me after I told you about Nikki and Roxie yet you fucked my best friend," Sammi said, looking down at the table.

"Okay let's talk about something else like you suggested," Vince mumbled, swallowing hard.

"You're the one that brought up the U.S. Festival, not me," Sammi whispered, wiping away any tears that almost fell. Vince ran a hand through his hair and resting his chin in the palm of his hands, averting his eyes to people talking in the booth far away from them

"You're not going to answer me?" Sammi asked, looking left of her.

"It just happened, Sam… I didn't think she would tell you," Vince said, still looking away from her.

"She didn't, I heard you two on the bus in the bedroom," Sammi mumbled. Vince closed his eyes for a moment, genuinely feeling his nerves go haywire. "You know some words of advice since you're so keen on giving me some. Don't send a girl flowers, flirt with her every chance you get, and expect to still be a great guy in her books," Sammi said, taking hold of her heavy coat as she slid out of the booth.

Vince dropped his arm against the table, eyes following Sammi walk out into the cold. He fumbled to grab his wallet, pulling out the only 50 he had onto the table. Stumbling out of the booth, he put on his coat as he tried to catch up to Sammi.

Sammi ran out right out the bar, almost colliding against a young girl who tried to walk in. She sped down the icy sidewalk, squeezing her eyes from the built-up tears. She walked for what felt a reasonable distance from the bar until a strong hand grabbed Sammi by the arm, spinning to face Vince.

"You can't get rid of me that easily, you've already tried," Vince said, remaining his grip on Sammi's arm. Sammi made an effort to yank out of Vince's grasp, only to realize how strong he can be. Sammi glared up at the blonde, inhaling sharply.

"Let me go, Vince!" Sammi shouted, still trying to get out of his grip.

"Sammi, I'm sorry, I didn't think Amanda and I hooking up was going to bother you this much!" Vince said, letting go of his grip on Sammi. Sammi scuffed at Vince, stepping away from him as she shook her head.

"You really didn't think fucking one of my closet friends was going to bother me?! You acted as if you hated her! I only kissed Nikki, and you fucking dragged me out of a club!" Sammi shouted with wrinkled eyebrows, walking away from Vince. Vince went to grab Sammi's wrist one again, having her yank it away from him. "Amanda was right. You don't give a shit about me only when it's fucking necessary to you," Vince wrinkled his nose, blocking Sammi from walking away from him.

"Sam, I never said I didn't give a shit about you, you should know I care about you?" Vince said, holding onto Sammi by the shoulders.

"Really because that's exactly what you told Amanda before you fucked her, and I believe it from how you act," said Sammi, pushing Vince's hands away from her. "Just admit so we can save our breath,"

"Sammi, I never fucking said that to Amanda. She told me you were going to get with Nikki, that she told you and I believed it. I shouldn't have had sex with her, and I'm sorry for that, but please don't be mad at me," Vince pleaded.

Sammi stayed staring at Vince for a moment, inhaling sharply for a moment. "You were so against Amanda from the moment you met her. I'll admit she's a horrible friend, and after that day, we're barely roommates, but you actually listened to her? You should've been smart enough to know she was lying. I barely understood how bad she was, and I've known her since I was 16. I never told her anything about Nikki and me, I never told her anything about you. If you really wanted to know if Nikki and I were going to get together, you should've asked Britney. Amanda manipulated you just from what she saw, you are still an idiot for falling for it," Sammi said, walking away from Vince.

His mouth was parted open, feeling his cheeks turn red from embarrassment and the cold. Vince stayed frozen on the sidewalk, seeing Sammi walk into the distance for the unfamiliar city. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, not sure on what to do or where to go, seeing taxis pass by him and hail for one.

"Tommy can you please just be a nice brother and switch so I can get the room to myself with no question?" Sammi asked Tommy, sitting on his single bed. Tommy drank his beer, sitting on the plain dresser with scrunched eyebrows. He was able to see Sammi's distress, never really seeing her like this as this was a job for Athena. Tommy had already seen Sammi mad for the day, he might as well try to make it up. "Fine I'll switch, but you are going to have to tell me what's going on one day. And by one day I mean like tomorrow," Tommy said, finishing his beer. He threw his room key on the bed and grabbed Sammi's with all of his belongings under his arm. Sammi gave Tommy a small smile, Tommy ruffling the top of Sammi's hair. Tommy walked down the hall, catching Vince walk out of the elevator. "Oh hey man! Guess who's your new roommate!" Tommy said, smiling from ear to ear. Vince halts in his path, scrunching his eyebrows to Tommy.

"What? What do you mean, new roommate?" Vince asked, following Tommy to their room. Tommy unlocked with his key, stepping inside to toss all of his belongings. Vince scanned the place to see everything of Sammi's was gone. Tommy jumped onto what was Sammi's bed, spreading out like a starfish on his back. "Tom?"

Tommy sat up, moving the hair out of his face. "Oh yeah, Sammi came to my room with her shit and wanted to switch. She seemed sad so I just agreed, I have no idea what happened. Hey, wanna go find a strip club? Nikki has been trying all day but no luck, also we need more blow," Tommy said, walking up to Vince. Vince huffed under his breath and only gave Tommy a nod, feeling slaps against his back. "Awesome, let's get Mick and Nik and head out!"

Vince only cursed in his mind, looking down to the ground as they got closer to the room Sammi was in. He had no thought in his mind how he was going to fix this situation now.

31 notes · View notes

bandzrus · 6 years ago

Text

The No Fun Tour (Part 1)

The Dirt!Tommy Lee x Reader

Masterlist

SUMMARY // You’ve been working as a roadie for Motley Crue for a number of years because of your interest in the music business and family connections with Doc. The boys are touring with Ozzy and things are looking promising for them, but if they mess up one more hotel room they’re in big trouble with Elektra Records. Doc has assigned you to watch Tommy for the night, and while the boys are like second family to you, you realize you may actually have more feelings for the drummer than you originally thought.

NOTE // This is my first one-shot, and I’m really hoping to do more. REQUESTS ARE OPEN! MGK as Tommy is so friggin’ cute, I just had to write something for him.

WORDS // 6092

***

Working with Motley Crue was exhausting and never easy, but you couldn’t imagine yourself doing anything else with your life. You had grown up being obsessed with music and your parents always encouraged you to pursue that, even though it wasn’t the most convention career path. You had tried picking up a couple of instruments over the years, but nothing really stuck despite your passion. You were probably the best at singing, but nowhere near good enough to make a living out of it, so you decided that working in the business was good enough. And that’s where Doc came in. He was a family friend of your dad’s and he was kind enough to invite you along as a roadie when he got control of Motley Crue. Sure, a lot of it was packing and unpacking instruments and props, or picking up booze for the boys, but it would look great on your resume one day when you decided to make more of yourself. You were content where you were right now, and that was all because of the boys. Mick, Nikki, Vince, and Tommy were hilarious, and getting to spend so much time with them was something other girls only dreamed of. It wasn’t glamorous all the time that was for sure, but you still wouldn’t trade it for anything. They made you laugh, you got to travel, and you got to learn the ropes of the business. Besides, you were already used to holding people’s hair while they puked their guts out from your year or two in college.

Usually you weren’t that worried when the Motley circus rolled into another town, but things had not been going over well with Elektra Records lately (and by things it meant the exceedingly expensive hotel and damage repair costs). You and Doc were very familiar with the insane partying habits of the band, but had been warned that if Motley Crue messed up so much as a single glass at their next hotel, they’d be out on the street again. It was NOT going to be an easy task. Doc had been massaging his temples all day on the bus, which was never a good sign.

“Hey,” you said, coming over to him. “We can handle this.”

“God, I hope so,” he replied. “Otherwise we’re screwed.”

“Got any ideas on how we’re going to herd these cats?”

“Well, if we can have a person assigned to each of them, then at least we’ve got eyes on them for the night.”

“I was thinking of handcuffing them all to their beds by 7pm and calling it a night,” you chuckled, running a hand through your hair. Doc laughed too, which seemed to relieve some of his nerves.

“That’s not a bad idea actually,” he said.

“Something tells me they’re not going to be thrilled about it. Why don’t we just tell them they can’t mess anything up tonight?”

“You think I haven’t?” scoffed Doc. “I’ve told them all individually at least three times, and as a group at least five.”

“They’re probably not going to listen anyway,” you sighed, letting all the air leave your lungs for moment. “Bunch of meatheads.”

You and Doc exchanged defeated looks. Tonight was going to be nothing short of a struggle for the both of you.

“I think assigning someone to each of them is a pretty good idea thought. Any ideas of who’s getting paired with who yet?” you inquired. Doc scratched the back of his head and looked over his shoulder at the four boys passed out in varies places in the bus. Nikki was face down on the carpet with only one shoe on, Vince’s blond hair was peeking out from a pile of half-naked women no doubt completely naked himself, Mick was laying on the couch looking perfectly vampiric with his hands crossed over his chest, and Tommy was drooling on one of the tables.

“I’ll get Harry to watch Mick, since he’ll be the easiest to manage. Dom can handle Vince, I’ll take Nikki since I want to run some stuff by him tonight anyway, and I think I’ll leave Tommy with you.”

“Me with Tommy?”

“He’ll run over Harry, I can’t spare Dom, and besides, he listens to you best anyway,” Doc said, waving you off. You frowned.

“Since when does that happen? None of them really listen to me even though I’ve been here pretty much since you’ve been in charge of them.”

Doc sighed and said

“Just trust me on this one, okay Y/N?”

“Alright,” you agreed, putting your hands up in surrender. “I’ll do my best to keep him under control.”

“You had better or it’s all our asses on the line.”

The tour bus finally pulled up in front of the hotel around 10pm, which meant the boys had had a couple hours to get back on their feet and down more booze. It was still early though, which meant you still had a hope of controlling them. Doc had explained one more time before everyone got off the bus that if Motley Crue didn’t behave tonight, things with Elektra would be over. And to enforce this behavior, he had assigned the band their babysitters for the night. Nikki was of course the first to start shouting, followed very shortly after by Vince and then Tommy. Mick looked sulkier than usual but just shot daggers out of his eyes at Harry and made him promise he’d stay far, far away from the guitarist while he worked out a few licks for tomorrow’s show.

“You can’t be fucking serious!” shouted Nikki. “We’re not damn five year olds!”

“Stop acting like kindergarteners and maybe we wouldn’t have this problem, Nik.”

“What the fuck are we supposed to do all night then?” inquired Vince, blond hair seeming to poof up even more due to his anger. He looked like a scrawny blond cat.

“Work on your set for tomorrow, write some new songs, sober up, I don’t care, just don’t cause any mischief!” Doc snapped back. The singer threw his hands in the air and cursed under his breath. Nikki was clearly looking for something to throw at Doc.

“Fuck you, man,” snarled Tommy.

“Hey, it’s one night guys, let it go,” you tried. Only the drummer seemed to even hear you.

“I’m going to be bored out of my fucking mind,” he groaned, sidling up next to you and abandoning his bandmates in their rant at Doc.

“Doc’s other idea was to handcuff all of you to your beds as soon as we got here, so be thankful he’s not doing that right now.”

“Do we at least get booze still, or is this really turning into the No Fun Tour?”

“I’ll buy you a few rounds at the bar but that’s it.”

“How many is a few?”

“Five.”

“FIVE?” screeched Tommy. “That’s nothing! I won’t even be buzzed!”

“It’s not my problem you have a high tolerance, now is it?”

“I’m going to fucking die.”

The drummer ran his hands through his long hair in frustration. You chuckled.

“You can handle one night of no booze, drummer.”

“What the hell are we gonna do then? It’s not like I can actually practice anything for tomorrow, they’re not going to let me bring my drums inside.”

“We can watch TV or something, or I’m sure Doc will let you guys hang out for a while as long as you keep it down,” you suggested, waving a hand absently. He still didn’t look impressed, but didn’t argue with you anymore. “Why don’t we go inside and find your room first before you start whining about something else.”

And to that Tommy agreed, but only after you promised him a sixth drink.

It was only three drinks in when he started bitching about Doc’s rules again.

“Ah come on, Y/N, can’t we do anything fun tonight? We could rent a car and cruise around or something, or hit up a gas-station, by some cigs, I dunno.”

“Those all sound like potentially terrible ideas, Tommy. Plus Doc doesn’t want us leaving here tonight.”

“Doc can suck my dick,” the drummer muttered darkly under his breath.

“He’s trying to keep you guys from fucking things up for yourselves. If Elektra drops you guys, it could be a while before we get another record deal and you guys are close to finishing another album.”

“Nikki says we’re close, but Vince thinks most of the new record sucks,” confessed Tommy, motioning for the bar-tender to get his fourth drink.

“And what do you think?” you asked him, sipping your own drink and cocking an eyebrow at the drummer.

“I dunno, I just like getting to play new stuff. I think it’s going to be an alright album.”

“I didn’t realize Motley Crue settled for just ‘alright’,” you commented.

“Ouch, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Kinda sounds like you did.”

“It’s not done yet, I’m sure Nikki and Mick will figure some shit out and it’ll turn out great,” defended Tommy, tipping his head back to down the last of his fourth glass. You motioned to the bartender that there would only be two more for Tommy.

“You’re a really killjoy, you know that Y/N?”

“Unfortunately it’s my job to take care of your sorry, drunken ass,” you shrugged.

“I can think of better ways you could be taking care of my ass.”

“So could I, like calling it quits after four drinks and hand-cuffing you to your bed so you don’t cause any trouble tonight,” you smirked, taking another sip of your drink as Tommy gaped open-mouthed at you.

“Fuck, you’re mean.”

“Kinda your fault.”

The two of you spent the next bit in relative silence while Tommy polished off his last two drinks. Thanking and paying the bartender, you hopped off the bar stool and made for the elevator.

“Come on Tommy,” you beckoned. He gave you his best puppy-dog face and pout that really, really made your job difficult. “Please.”

“Fiiiiiinnne,” he whined, trailing after you and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You rolled your eyes. It was going to be a long night. Pressing the button in the elevator for the fourth floor, you stole a glance over at Tommy. Sometimes it was weird seeing them all without their stage get-up and makeup on. He was just wearing jeans and long-sleeve shirt and for once in his life wasn’t stinking up the entire elevator. They usually all smelled like booze, cocaine, piss, cigarettes, sweat, and hairspray. You were thankful because at some point tonight you were going to be staying in the same room as him. Doc had insisted all the babysitters not leave the band at any time. Follow them into the bathroom (even you), stay in the same bedroom, etc.

“Do you want to pop in and see Vince?” you asked, walking backwards to keep eye-contact with the drummer.

“Sure,” he shrugged. Walking down the hallway, you spotted Dom standing outside of Vince’s room.

“Hey Y/N,” he greeted coolly. Dom was never much for talking, and with his size he really didn’t need to be. No wonder Doc assigned him to the little blond singer.

“Hey Dom, mind if we say hi to Vince?” you asked. He nodded and opened the door. You couldn’t help but laugh out loud as soon as it opened wide enough for you to see inside. Vince was dressed in a fuzzy bathrobe and slippers, with the TV remote in one hand, and his other hand-cuffed to the bed.

“Don’t even fucking start,” the blond warned Tommy as the drummer followed you inside. You and Tommy were beside yourselves with laughter. Doubled over, it took over a minute before you composed yourself. Vince was right back to looking like a very pissed off cat.

“Vinny-“ Tommy started, only to burst back into a fit of hysterics again. “Oh my god Y/N please tell me you have a camera.”

With a malevolent grin, you slowly pulled your polaroid camera out of your purse. You used it mostly to take pictures of the boys, even though your parents had gifted it to you before you left for LA to take pictures of your travels. You had a whole collage back home in your apartment of pictures you’d taken, but since being on the road with Ozzy, you had taken to just shoving them in an envelope.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” shouted Vince, struggling against the handcuff and chucking the remote at Tommy as if that would stop you from taking the shot. You took it anyway. Snatching it from the camera and waving it around, Tommy was still trying to keep from cackling.

“Doc is so dead after tonight,” he chuckled.

“I was joking about the handcuffs, I didn’t think he’d take it so seriously,” you confessed to the singer.

“This was your idea?!”

“I said it as a joke!” you promised, lifting your hands in surrender and dodging the bible Vince had dug up from the night-table with his free hand.

“Dude, quit throwing shit at Y/N,” Tommy said.

“She got me into this fucking mess!”

“It was a joke!”

“DO I LOOK LIKE I’M JOKING RIGHT NOW?! Tell Dom to get his ass back in here and uncuff me!” hissed Vince, desperately trying to get the cuff off with no success. You glanced over at Tommy who was trying his hardest not to laugh again just like you were.

“I’ll ask him,” you sighed. “Come on Tommy, let’s go.”

Closing the door behind you and muffling Vince’s swearing, you turned to Dom.

“Vince wants you to uncuff him,” you said.

“Yeah he’s pissed, man,” affirmed Tommy, standing behind you.

“Not until he chills the fuck out,” Dom vowed, which made you and Tommy chuckle.

“Probably a good idea. Might want to give him the remote back though, he threw it at Tommy and the TV’s stuck on Brady Bunch reruns.”

All three of you laughed for a moment before you grabbed Tommy’s arm and bid Dom farewell.

“I loved The Brady Bunch as a kid,” Tommy commented, following after you down the hallway.

“Me too. That and Gilligan’s Island.”

“Shit, yeah! I could probably still sing you the whole song!”

“Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale

a tale of a fateful trip,

that started from this tropic port,

aboard this tiny ship.

The mate was a mighty sailin' man,

the Skipper brave and sure,

five passengers set sail that day,

for a three hour tour,

a three hour tour.”

You and Tommy burst into another fit of giggles as you finished singing.

“I wish you’d sing more,” you confessed, brushing your hair out of your face and unlocking the door to Tommy’s room.

“Really?” he asked, giving the bed a few good bounces before flopping onto his back.

“Yeah.”

You tucked the room key safely in your bra where you knew Tommy didn’t have the balls to steal it from you, then shrugged off your jacket. The drummer was quiet for a bit, just content with staring at the ceiling fan as you putzed around the room. Drawing the curtains, grabbing two water bottles out of the mini-fridge, and turning on the TV, you sat down on the edge of the bed next to Tommy.

“I’ll see if I can find a movie or something,” you said, flicking channels. Most of it was local news, and you stopped briefly on MTV where a brunette was talking bullshit about Motley Crue’s ‘Shout At The Devil’ album.

“They’re still going on about that?” asked Tommy, apparently paying more attention than you thought.

“Guess so.”

You flicked through more boring new channels, then stopped.

“The ship's aground on the shore of this

uncharted desert isle

with Gilligan,

the Skipper too.

The millionaire and his wife,

the movie star,

the professor and Mary Ann,

here on Gilligan's Isle.”

They were playing Gilligan’s Island reruns too tonight apparently. Tommy kicked off his shoes and propped himself up against the headboard.

“Keep it on this,” he said, waving a hand at you to stop flicking channels. You put the remote down and started digging in your pockets.

“You better not have brought cuffs,” warned Tommy, hands out in front of him like he was ready for a fight. You laughed.

“No, I didn’t bring cuffs,” you promised him, pulling your wallet out of your pocket and depositing it on the chair next to the window. You kicked your boots off onto the floor as well, then using your legs, you shimmied up further on the bed until you were leaning against the headboard too. You were particularly thankful in this moment that Tommy didn’t smell like his usual self. You were still a good foot away from him thanks to the size of the bed, but none the less it was nice. It didn’t hit you until the episode was over that there was no extra cot or couch for you to sleep on.

You reached for the phone as the credits rolled.

“I hope they’re doing a bunch more reruns,” Tommy commented, gesturing at the TV. “Hey, who are you calling?”

“Doc didn’t get me a cot.”

“Oh… shit.”

“And there’s no couch,” you said, dialing Nikki’s room where you knew Doc was. There was some static on the line and a yelling that could only be Nikki before Doc’s voice came through.

“Doc speaking.”

“Hey Doc, it’s Y/N. You didn’t have a cot sent up to Tommy’s room.”

There was more crackling and you could hear Nikki laughing. What a prick.

“Sorry Y/N, Maggie probably forgot to call it in when she booked the hotel. Phone down to the desk and see if they can arrange something. Nikki and I are in the middle of something with Mick, so if you need anything, call Dom.”

With that and one more snicker from Nikki, Doc hung up. Holding the button to end your call, then redialing the desk downstairs, another episode of Gilligan’s Island started.

“Hey, this is room 407, would you be able to send a cot up?” you asked.

“I’m sorry ma’am, all our cots are currently rented out and it would be another $75 a night. We can bring you some extra bedding if that would help.”

You sighed. This night just got more interesting.

“Yes, if you can send that up that’d be great,” you said, thanking the receptionist and hanging up. Sleeping on the floor after a long day on the road and babysitting Tommy was not how you wanted this evening to go.

“They bringing you a cot?” asked the drummer.

“Nope, apparently they’re all out. Someone’s gonna bring up some extra bedding and I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Oooor you can stay up and watch Gilligan’s Island with me.”

“Trust me, I wasn’t going to be nodding off any time soon. Doc made me swear I wouldn’t go to sleep until I knew you were passed out,” you promised.

“That’s going to be a bit difficult considering you’ve cut me off from booze and anything else that would allow that to happen. Looks like it’s gonna be an all-nighter!”

Tommy raised his hand waiting for a high-five. You just sighed and took up your position next to him at the head of the bed, leaving him hanging.

“Can we at least order room service, I’m hungry.”

“It’s late, but I can see what they’re bring us,” you agreed. There was a menu next to the phone on the nightstand and you held it so Tommy could read.

“Omelet looks good,” he pointed.

“And it comes with bacon. I think I’m gonna go with the grilled cheese. Want anything else?”

“Other than a Jack and Coke? No.”

“Fine.”

You picked up the phone again and ordered. The two of you were partway through another rerun of Gilligan’s Island when the food and extra bedding arrived, and it took another episode before you cleared the dished off the bed and dropped them outside. Ditching your socks next to your boots this time, you crawled back onto the bed next to Tommy for another episode.

You hadn’t watched Gilligan’s Island since you left for LA, and it looked like Tommy was enjoying watching it as much as you. Before you knew it, the two of you were at least five or six episodes in, it was way past 2am, and you had sunken much further into bed. As the credits rolled on yet another episode, Tommy finally got up.

“I gotta go to the bathroom,” he said when you gave him a funny look.

“That had be all you’re doing.”

“Would you like to come in and watch?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

It definitely wouldn’t be the first time. You’d watched Motley Crue pee on all sorts of things, and after the first five times you got used to it. As the drummer went into the bathroom, you got out of the bed too and stretched. You loved the leather pants you were wearing, but they were by no means comfortable for lounging in and you wished you had worn something else. Sleeping in them was going to be a bitch. Meandering into the bathroom with Tommy, you examined yourself in the mirror. Your hair had deflated a bit, but the small bit of makeup you had put on that morning was still intact and would last through the night if you needed it to. It was really just your pants bothering you, and somehow Tommy noticed.

“Those can’t be comfortable anymore,” he gestured, flushing and washing his hands.

“It’s not like I have a choice,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair.

“You could always take them off,” Tommy shrugged. It would have appeared innocent if you hadn’t known him.

“You’re a prick, you know that?” you snapped.

“Ouch, that was uncalled for!”

“I’m not taking my pants off!”

“I was just making a suggestion, that way you’d be more comfortable,” Tommy said, raising his hands in surrender.

“Does this normally work with girls?” you asked him.

“Wha- no most girls aren’t wearing any pants by the time they get to me. So no. Plus most girls are not you.”

“You’re damn right,” you said, the both of you walking back to the bed. Another episode was already on and you were starting to wonder just how long these reruns were going to go on for. The longer they went, the less you had to worry about Tommy. Climbing back onto the bed you cursed your morning self for picking these pants. Arms crossed, you leaned against the headboard while Tommy peeled his socks off. And then his shirt. You should have been used to him shirtless, you’d seen him like this a thousand times on stage, backstage, and throwing up in the back of the bus, but this was different somehow. He was sober this time, and the way he did it was almost… graceful. Shaking out his hair, he balled up the shirt and tossed it to the end of the bed. Letting out a sigh, he flopped back onto the bed.

“Is this the one episode with the totem pole thing?” he asked, glancing over at you.

“Yeah,” you chuckled. You recognized it too. The two of you kept watching, quiet again. Then Tommy spoke.

“You seriously can’t be comfortable,” he said, back on the pants topic.

“I can’t just take them off.”

“You can borrow my shirt if you want,” the drummer offered, gesturing at the black ball of fabric at the end of the bed. “It’s longer than the one you’ve got on if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Seriously?”

“What, it is.”

“No, not that.”

“Then what?”

“Now is the time you decide to be gentleman?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Suffer in your stupid pants then.”

“And there’s the prick I remember.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re really mean?” asked Tommy, turning to you and stretching his arms over his head.

“It’s come up once or twice before, but never from a reliable source.”

“Damn. Y/N, the cold bitch who likes to suffer in her leather pants,” chuckled Tommy, christening you with a new title. Snorting, you got off the bed.

“Woah, hey, sorry. Just not used to being sober, I say dumb stuff when I’m sober.”

“That is totally not how it’s supposed to work,” you chided, untucking your shirt from your pants and making for the washroom. Tommy watched you with curiosity and slight amusement as you grabbed his shirt from the foot of the bed and slammed the bathroom door.

Letting out a breath and shaking your head at yourself in the mirror, you shimmied out of your pants and shirt. You may have been cursing your morning self for wearing the leather pants, but you had picked out great underwear and your favourite bra. You pulled Tommy’s shirt over your head and looked back at yourself in the mirror. It was way longer than your shirt, which made sense. The drummer was damn lanky, the thing went well past your butt. But the thing you noticed most was that it smelled like him. Not booze and cigarettes and cocaine and whatever other shit he managed to find, but something else. Something you couldn’t describe as anything other than just Tommy-smell. You hated that this was what this night had come to. There was no way Tommy was every going to let this go. Balling up your clothes, you stepped out of the bathroom. You were expecting him to whistle or make some kind of joke while you chucked your clothes on the chair and crawled back on the bed, but he didn’t.

“Better?” he asked finally, as if he had been absorbed in the TV and just noticed you.

“Yeah,” you confessed, tugging the long sleeves over your hands.

“Cool.”

And that was all he said. The two of you went back to being engrossed by the antics of Gilligan and Skipper. That is until about 4am when the reruns finally stopped and the TV switched to nothing but infomercials.

Untangling yourself from the mess of blankets that had slowly started to form over the hours of TV you and Tommy had partaken in, you sifted through the extra bedding, preparing to set up on the floor. You weren’t going to sleep yet, since Tommy wasn’t, but it didn’t hurt to be prepared.

“This is gonna fucking suck,” you muttered darkly under your breath as you laid down a couple of pillows.

“You could always sleep on the bed,” suggested Tommy as if it was the most normal thing in the world. He was really trying to sell you on the innocent-puppy-dog thing today.

“And you’ll sleep on the floor?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Hell no I’m not sleeping on the floor.”

“Then what, we’re just going to share?”

“Well, yeah.”

“No!” “Why not? How bad could it be?”

“How bad? Tommy, I know you! I’ve already lost count of how many girls you’ve hooked up with on this tour, and that’s only the ones I’ve been unfortunate enough to have seen. I’m not sleeping with you,” you snapped.

“You can like, put pillows between us or some shit. Whatever you want.”

“Seriously? What is with you today?”

“Uh, I’m sober?”

“Other than that. Why are you trying to peddle me this innocent nice guy crap?”

“Am I not allowed to be nice to you? Would you rather have me throwing the TV remote at you like Vince?” asked Tommy, looking genuinely annoyed with you for not believing him.

“No, but-“

“But what?”

“Fine,” you sighed in defeat. “We’ll use the pillows.”

Grabbing the extra bedding off the floor, Tommy helped you make the Great Wall of China out of pillows down the middle of the bed. Hands on your hips, you scowled at Tommy. He chuckled.

“What?” you demanded.

“I dunna, it’s just funny seeing you like this,” he confessed.

“Laugh now drummer, because it’s not happening again,” you assured him. Turning the TV off, you yawned. “Oh shit, did you want that on still?”

“Naw.”

“I don’t know what else we can do tonight, I’m sorry.”

“I can think of a lot of things we can do tonight, but I’m sure you don’t want to hear them,” joked Tommy.

“If those ideas go anything along the lines of ‘get wasted, get high as fuck, set fire to this hotel room, destroy three cars with nothing but a single line of cocaine and a girl’s bra, team up with Nikki to give herpes to an entire town, or stick your penis anywhere near me’ then no I do not want to hear them,” you confirmed, kneeling down on your half the bed.

“Wow, you really do know me.”

“I really do. I know all of you.”

Tommy unbuckled his belt nonchalantly and dropped it on the floor, his pants sinking just a little lower on his hips. You found yourself staring a bit longer than you should have.

“Don’t get any more ideas, drummer.”

He just chuckled again and pulled his pants off, one long leg at a time. Again, it wasn’t as if you hadn’t seen his chicken legs before. You’d seen him butt-naked far more times than you’d like to have, but something about him not being wasted or high out of his mind and alone in a hotel room with you made it different. Throwing back the sheets, Tommy flopped back into bed.

“You’re going to sleep?” you asked, genuinely confused. To him it probably wasn’t even that late. The band stayed up to ungodly hours and therefore woke up sometime during the afternoon usually.

“I’m so fucking bored and there’s no more Gilligan’s Island, so yeah, gonna go to sleep and pass the time,” Tommy answered.

“You’re not fooling me, Lee.”

“That’s because I’m not trying to; can you turn the light off?”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes, turn the goddamn light off.”

Reluctantly you did as he asked and the room went dark. There was still a little light from the signs outside coming in through the window, but you couldn’t make out much more than Tommy’s general outline on the other side of the Great Wall of China.

“Are you really just gonna sit there and stare at me?” he asked. “Because a) that’s really creepy, and b) it’s making me uncomfortable and it’s much harder to go to sleep.”

“Sorry,” you muttered, crawling under the sheets too. The Great Wall didn’t come all the way up to the head of the bed as it was just intended to stop body contact, and because you still needed to keep an eye on the pesky drummer. Doc would kill you if you fell asleep first, so there was no way you were letting it happen. Plus who knew what kind of shenanigans Tommy would get into if you somehow fell asleep on the job.

Letting out a sigh, you let your eyes wander and adjust to the dark. For now Tommy seemed genuine about going to sleep. His eyes were closed and his breathing mellow. Hopefully it would last and you’d wake up tomorrow and everything would have gone smoothly. You could only hope the rest of the band would behave themselves too and things with Elektra would smooth over. You listened as the clock slowly ticked, cars went by, and Tommy’s breathing eventually evolved into soft snoring. He was actually asleep. Which meant you could also finally close your eyes. Letting your lids shut, it took all of ten seconds for you to nod off.

You had no idea what time it was when you woke up, but it was still dark and you were freezing. Rubbing your eyes, you peered around in the dark. It was no wonder you were cold, all the blankets had been pulled to Tommy’s side of the bed. Grumbling to yourself, you tried to pull at least one of them back over to your side but to no avail.

“Fuckin’ drummer,” you muttered, trying once more in vain to rescue one of the blankets. Swearing under your breath and cursing yourself, you broke down the Great Wall. If Tommy wouldn’t let go of the blankets, then there was only one thing you could do. Even your very sleep-addled brain recognized this as a bad idea, but you did it anyway. Pulling at the corner of the blankets just enough to get under, you wiggled under and up against Tommy. Between the blankets and the drummer’s body heat, you were finally warm again. Nestling your head into his shoulder and closed your eyes and fell asleep again, though somewhere in the back of your mind there was a little voice screaming about never living this down as long as you lived.

It was the phone that woke you up. Blearily looking around, the clock read 12:47pm. Reaching for the phone, you were stopped by an arm around your waist and a groan.

“Fuck,” Tommy mumbled. Wriggling, you managed to reach the phone.

“Hullo?” you anwered.

“Y/N, it’s past noon, we need to get the boys back on the bus in an hour so they can go to their interview. Think you can manage?”

It was Doc.

“Yeah.”

“Good, we’ll see you back on the bus then,” Doc said before hanging up. You nearly dropped the phone putting it back. You were still mostly asleep, curled up under the blankets all warm and – holy shit – in Tommy’s arms. You were about to get mad at him until you remembered that it was your dumbass that got under the covers with him. Fuck.

“Was that Doc?” asked the drummer, voice laced with sleep.

“Mmh,” you said. “He wants us back on the bus in an hour.”

“Fuuuuck but I’m so cozy. And you smell nice.”

You didn’t want to, but you could feel yourself blushing. You hated how nice this felt; to wake up in Tommy’s arms.

“You’re probably smelling your own damn shirt, which I washed,” you argued, pulling the blankets back around you.

“Can you just take a damn compliment for once,” Tommy said into your back. His forehead was resting against your shoulder and his arms wrapped around your middle.

“You don’t smell half-bad today yourself,” you replied quietly. So quiet you weren’t sure he heard it, but then he squeezed you gently.

“This is so fuckin’ nice,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve slept this good… ever.”

“We can’t get too comfy, Doc needs us in an hour,” you lamented. But as much as you tried to convince yourself to get free or Tommy’s arms, you couldn’t do it. The two of you almost fell back asleep. By the time you finally crawled out of bed, you only have 10 minutes to get ready and down the bus.

“Well last night totally sucked,” grumbled Mick, his usual moody self. Nikki and Vince looked like total shit so you had to agree with the guitarist.

“Worst fucking sleep of my life,” Nikki growled. “Try having Doc stand over you like some fuckin’ gargoyle.”

“Try being handcuffed all night!” said Vince, rubbing his wrist and glaring at Dom. You were surprised Vince hadn’t tried taking a stab at the guy yet, or Doc.

Tommy on the other hand looked as giddy as a golden retriever on a morning walk.

“The fuck’s with you?” asked Nikki, giving him a look. “And why the fuck is Y/N wearing your shirt?”

You opened your mouth, ready to deny absolutely everything or hurl insults until they forgot anything ever happened, but Tommy spoke first.

“Y/N got ketchup on her shirt so I let her borrow mine,” he explained. You nodded a little too aggressively because Mick gave you a funny look.

“That doesn’t explain your happy-go-lucky attitude,” Vince pushed.

“We watched a shit-load of Gilligan’s Island yesterday man.”

“Dude! That shit’s real!”

You let out a sigh as the band started going on a tangent about Gilligan’s Island, forgetting all about you. You were about to head onto the bus and clean up a bit, but just as you were going up the stair Tommy caught you eye.

“Thank you,” you mouthed to him.

“You owe me,” he mouthed back and winked.

And just like that you knew that wasn’t going to be the last time you woke up in the drummer’s arms.

***

Wow that ended up being so much longer than I thought it was going to be. I’m hoping to do more one-shot stuff, particularly for The Dirt. Requests are open, and let me know if you want me to tag you in anything.

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 5 years ago

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A Family of Five- Part 7: Secret Holder

Calum and Harlowe’s marriage hasn’t always been easy, but it has always been filled with love. This is a collaborative experience with In Sorrow and In Joy. Dad!Calum. Black OC.

CW: Over the course of this series, there are mentions of pregnancy, therapy, and postpartum depression. There is also 18+ Content (Smut)

Enjoy my masterlist | Series Masterlist

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No one has my permission to repost my work of fiction. This includes translations as well.

______________________________

Te Koha wipes his brow, the dry heat wafting in through the open door of the garage. He needs the draft though, when there was the occasional breeze that manage to keep him cool. He is determined to finish. Nikau has been dying for a jukebox style dresser. It does not go with the soccer paraphernalia plastered across his room, but Koha’s not one to try and make sense of his brother’s decor sense. Though both his parents tried to talk the little boy out of it, Nikau stuck to his guns.

Calum and Harlowe tried to find one online, nothing too expensive, since who knew when the boy would grow tired of it. But nothing was coming up. So Koha offered to make him one. He liked working with his hands, he said it’d be a birthday gift, if Calum and Harlowe were okay with going in for half on the supplies. Calum did a step better and paid for it. Koha had money from his gig at the cinema. But he wasn’t going to argue with his father on that. Calum did it because he knew the amount of time it would take Koha to do it and he was touched that Te Koha would work this out.

Koha turns the sander off, setting it aside to look over the final piece before he can prime and paint. Running a hand over the wood, it’s smooth. He slips the dust mask down right as a knock sounds.

“How’s it going?”

Koha looks up to see Nikau standing in the opening of the garage that faces the driveway. “Good.” He waves his brother over. “Come here. You can put the last piece in place, yeah?”

“Really?” Nikau asks, eyes growing in excitement.

“Really really. Now, c’mon.”

Nikau speeds into the room, steps carefully the cables. “We gotta make sure this fits.” Nikau pulls over the stepstool and carefully grabs the wood as it’s put over his head. “Have you put the dowels in?”

“Not yet.” Koha watches as the wood sits perfectly. Then he grins down to Nik. “Fits like a dream. “You can help me put them in, if you want?”

The little boy nods, the back of his head tapping lightly against Koha’s chest. The pair work twisting in dowels, unaware of their father’s presence. Calum leans against the garage door that leads into the house, arms folded across his chest. “So how are we going to paint it?” Nikau asks.

“Esha said she had some designs. We’ll ask her after dinner, I guess.”

“I want it neon! Yeah! That’ll be cool, right, Koha?”

The older boy nods. “Yeah, super cool.”

It goes silent. Koha playfully ruffles Nik’s hair, earning him a huff from the young boy. Nikau gives his loose curls a shake to undo Koha’s mess of his hair. “Alright, boys. Dinner time,” Calum says. His boys turn around and nod at their father. Nikau climbs into the house first, gently bumping against Calum’s hip. Calum falls into the wall, huffing a little in an over exaggeration. “Watch it. I’m fragile!”

Nikau chuckles at the antic. Calum does it every time. “You can take a hip. It’s not your fingers or voice.” He skips out the way of Calum’s reach, before he can be tickled. “Gotta clean up!” he beams. Te Koha cleans his hands off, before putting the garage door down and closing the second door that leads outside.

“It’s coming along nicely,” Calum notes, walking further into the garage. He looks at the wooden frame. He knows once it’s prime and painted it’s gonna be amazing.

“Neon lights would make it pop,” Koha mutters. “Just don’t have the time.”

Calum looks to his eldest, much like him. Maybe too much like him, Calum thinks. Always hyper critical of himself, always thinking of something better, a way to improve. As if right now is not enough. “Next time. Besides, this is amazing. You’re making an actual dresser. From scratch. That’s pretty incredible.”

“Thanks Dad.”

“Te Koha David Hood,” Harlowe bellows before her head pops around the corner of the door molding. “You’re a rock star,” she shouts. Then her voice lowers to normal, “And it’s time to eat. For all your hard work, I made peach cobbler.”

“Thank, Mom.”

“Of course. Don’t be too long, boys.”

“Good thing she doesn’t yell too often right?” Calum teases. Koha lets his laughter escape him. He honestly is too accustomed to the shouts of his mother. The house feels a little emptier when she’s gone for conferences. Though Esha for sure picks up the slack. Dinner goes as every other dinner does. Nikau and Esha talk to the most, animated while recreating their days at school or out with friends. Te Koha goes last. His days go about the same, or at least they appear to to his parents.

“Today was fine.” Sometimes he’ll se good if something exciting happened. But most days are just fine. “I passed that maths exam. Didn’t do stellar, but I passed. Teacher will let me work over those problems I got wrong for half points to add back to the score.”

Harlowe nods. She knows the trig and Te Koha aren’t the best of friends. He does well in all his subjects, but this year has been a little tricky for him. “Well that’s good. You staying after tomorrow then?”

He nods. “I’ll stay until Esha’s done with her rehearsals and bring us both back home.”

“Are we painting my dresser this weekend?” Nikau asks, reaching for another spoonful of green beans. One of his favorite veggies. Getting him to try new foods is still a struggle so they stick to the knowns for him though they slowly introduce new things.

“Of course we are!” Esha cheers, reaching across like she’s going for some extra helping of potatoes. In reality she’s going in for the roll off Koha’s plate when her mother’s gaze is turned away. Te Koha doesn’t care for them but instead of fussing when Harlowe puts one on his plate, he just smiles. Esha takes it for him and splits it with Nikau, next to her.

Calum knows. He always knows and tries to keep Harlowe’s attention until the theft is complete. Thankfully he doesn’t have to work to hard because Jack walks over, and sets himself down at her feet, creating the perfect distraction. Harlowe reaches down to scratch the top of her head. Calum knows that she knows about Te Koha and Esha’s deal. But rather than break the cycle, she places the roll and lets Esha take it without saying anything.

At the dawn of the weekend, Calum wakes all too early in the morning, Harlowe still sleeping next to him on her back. He presses a kiss to her cheek and slips out of the bed. She’ll wake soon, feeling the shift of the mattress. But she will lay in bed for just a few more minutes. It’s about 6 but he can hear shuffling from across the hall. Then the stairs creak. Too heavy for Nikau. And it’s too early for Esha to even consider waking. Finishing up in the restroom, Calum waits at the door, listening to the alarm disarm itself. The front door opens, the alarm beeps twice to signal it. His first thought is that something is wrong. Though Te Koha can be an early riser, he’s never up before Calum. But rather than panicking, Calum slides into some basketball shorts, changes into a sweat resistant t-shirt and remembers that his running sneakers are downstairs.

He slides into his sneakers and notices Te Koha in the backyard with the dogs, head tilted up to the sun. Te Koha can sense his father’s presence but doesn’t move. Much like his dad and Nana Jay, Te Koha and Calum share a silent language, a gut understanding of the other. “Wanna go for a run? We can take the dogs with us.”

“Sissy would not be down.”

“Sissy can keep up. But once Mum’s out of bed, we’ll take Pepper and Jack.”

“How is she? Like for real,” Koha asks, turning to face Calum. He remembers the years of watching her curl up into the sheets. He remembers the whole reason for the move. He overheard Harlowe’s breakdown in that bathtub. He was supposed to be asleep, but the sob woke him. Calum ran to the bedroom and Te Koha watched from the crack in his door. He waited a minute or two and then carefully walked into his parents bedroom, pressing his tiny ear to the bathroom door. The sound of his mother’s crying never ceased to break his heart.

Calum drops his head for a moment. He can’t lie to his son. “She stopped taking her meds for a couple weeks there. She’s back on track, but it’s tough sometimes.”

“Why does she do it? She knows those meds work.”

“It’s-she thinks she can go without. And she knows she shouldn’t. She minored in Psychology in undergrad, you know that?” Te Koha shakes his head. “Yeah. She took enough classes though that she should’ve declared a second major. But didn’t turn in the paperwork in time.She knows good and well she because she takes meds and goes to therapy that her chance of relapse is greater. But the brain’s a powerful organ. It fools us all sometimes.”

It’s understood that Te Koha shouldn’t say anything about this. And normally he wouldn’t. He would press this information deep into himself and keep his lips closed. He would instead push her pill bottle closer to her in the mornings. He’ll count the number of pills when she’s gone. He’d ask Calum about the number of refills. He would ask about therapy. But he’s tired. He’s tired of holding secrets, of keeping his mouth shut. A tap sounds from the glass of the backdoor. Harlowe waves, signaling to both of them that’s she’s out of bed before turning and disappearing further into the house.

This is it, the time of silence is over. Te Koha steps up onto the deck, walking right past the questioning stare of his father. This isn’t about Calum. This is about his mother. He steps into the house, words barreling over his tongue. “Do you know that I don’t like rolls and let Esha takes them?” he asks to his mother’s back. That’s an easy confession.

Her hair scarf is still on, but she’s in a sweatshirt and lounge pants. “I know,” she says, still walking into the kitchen. “Would you like me to stop?”

“Do you know that Dad tells me when you stop taking your meds? Do you know that all of us can tell? Nikau, Esha, Pepper, Jack, Sissy--all of us.”

She pulls the fridge open, stepping back with the brita filter in her grasps. “I know.” Her voice is quiet. She puts the filter down on the counter and turns around. “I know because you look at me different when I do. You look at me like you did when you were 5 and thought my depression was your fault. You walked into our old garage and cried, apologizing and saying you would do better. What happened wasn’t your fault and never has been.”

“I know it’s not my fault. I know that now.” Te Koha walks closer to her, pausing a couple steps from her. She looks up to him, eyes watering. He may favor her physically, but his soul is all Calum. She takes his hand, pulling him into a hug. She wishes she could undo all the fear put in him from her own demons. She swore to herself that she would do her best to protect all of her children. But she was the one to hurt him. Not intentionally, not maliciously, but she had done it nonetheless. Te Koha folds into her embrace, feeling the slight tremor to her hands.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I keep hurting you after I promised I wouldn’t.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Ma. You don’t have to hide either. You told me how you got pregnant with me before marrying Dad. You told me that Dad and you nearly didn’t make it. You tell me so much and yet, you hide this. Something that you can’t control.”

“I’m your mother. It’s my job to worry about you. You aren’t to worry about me.”

“Of course I worry about you, Ma.”

“Momma’s just hardheaded, huh?”

“Just a little.” They embrace for a moment longer. “I love you,” he whispers to her. He wants no one but her to hear. Not even an ant, not the dogs, not his dad, not even the chill in the air. It is for Harlowe’s ears only.

He reply is just as quiet in return. “I love you. With every ounce of me.”

Te Koha slowly pulls back from his mother’s hold, wiping her tears from her cheeks. “You gotta take care of yourself. Who’s gonna nag me or shout in the house even though we’re not supposed to shout in the house? Who’s gonna give those bear hugs that make you feel like you chest will implode? Who’s gonna just put hair oil in my bathroom with little notes on what they’re good for? Who’s gonna do all that if you don’t take care of yourself?”

“Esha,” she says with a wobbly smile. “Well, she’ll definitely shout into the house.” Harlowe nods, sniffling hard. “I’ll take care of myself. I know I shouldn’t stop taking them. I know. I’m just human. Parents are human too. And you shouldn’t be so worried about me. You should be a kid, staying out late, getting drunk, stumbling home shambly.”

Te Koha laughs. He’s not shy about a pint here or there thanks to his Dad. He has friends. He is a still a kid. But he’s a kid that needs his mom. He’d be so lost without her. After things started getting good again, she’d pull him and Esha into her lap, playing with their hair. Their favorite movies on the TV screen. He remembers when they renewed their vows and he watched her dance. That propelled him to relearn the Haka. Thanks to Calum too and his encouraging words. Every birthday she made him cupcakes because he wasn’t a fan of cake. His was the biggest one, lemon with lemon icing.

When his crush in year 7 rejected him, she held him throughout the night, let him cry it out. She never tried to tell him she was too good looking, never tried to tell him that they were wrong. She held him, told him that his person was out there. She told him that it was okay that this hurt. Pain was not to be pushed down, but felt and dealt with it. He needs his mom. It’s as simple as that. “Funny you mention that,” Koha starts. “Ken and Davon and I might be going out tonight. So I wouldn’t wait up for me.”

Harlowe laughs. “But I surely will try to.”

“I know you will.”

After one last hug, Te Koha slides into his sneakers, grabbing the leash for Pepper and following behind Calum and Jack. They stretch for a few minutes, silent between them. The pavement in unforgiving beneath their sneakers, sending jolts up Te Koha’s bones. The air is crisp, warm, but not unforgiving. Pepper keeps pace next to Te Koha’s strides. He pushes past Calum without even realizing. “Keep up, old man,” he teases between pants.

Calum grins at the taunt. “I’m old, not Superman. Let me be.”

As his feet slap the pavement, Te Koha considers telling his parents. He’s been seeing Davon for a few weeks now. But there’s something fun about having his own secrets. He holds so many others. But this one doesn’t hold him down. This one makes him feel alive, remember the way his lips feel against Koha’s. It’s only technically true that Ken, Davon and him are going out. It’s a double date, Davon and him with Ken and some girl. Koha’s yet to actually meet her. He’s seen in her passing around school, but they’ve never interacted much. She seems nice. But everyone seems nice. Ken’s track record isn’t the best.

As they look back around to the last stretch of the block, Calum notes the way Te Koha’s head is not on his shoulders. It’s physically still attached, but he’s clearly mentally elsewhere. And not the bad kind either. The release is the best medicine, the unburdening of all the stuff inside is how people break free. The dogs are let inside for water and Koha heads to the detached shed. They converted that into a home gym. Calum follows behind him. He’s tired for sure, but he’s going to try and see if he can get to the bottom of this new good mood.

“Pull up challenge?” Calum offers.

Koha nods. “You will lose.”

“I’ve hoisted three babies for many years. I think I got this. But if you’re so confident,” Calum steps aside, waving his hand for Te Koha, “be my guest.”

Koha reaches for the bar, hops just a little to grab the bar. Koha pulls up for one, swings for the second. He gets through the seventh one before dropping from the bar. His face a little red and huffy. Calum’s got some weight on Koha. It’s bound to happen over the years, but he does his best to keep his weight down. He’s slowed on the beers. There’s not much liquor in the house because of Harlowe. Calum exhales deeply before taking more air in and then grabbing the bar.

He pulls up, chin resting over the bar. He’s a push up guy but knows Koha’s been working to improve his pull-up strength. So here is his huffing to get past the sixth pull up. He gets up the seventh time and keeps pushing. Eight. Nine. Ten. He let’s go, feet planting to the ground. He’s still got it. Te Koha huffs, a smile lifting half his face. “Show off”

“Just mad you’re old man still got it.” Calum reaches out and squeezes Te Koha’s bicep. “You’re getting there though.”

“I mean you’re right. You’ve got some years on me. But I still think in the end, I’m going to have you beat.” Te Koha flexes.

“I’m not sure about that,” Calum grins, flexing in return.

“I’m polling this on Instagram.”

Calum laughs, rolling up the sleeve to his shirt. “It won’t be a fair fight. I’ve still got it with the ladies.” Calum pulls his phone from his pocket. They pose in front of the mirror, Te Koha in front of him slightly. Both flexing to show off their biceps. Calum puts a poll on the picture. Who’s got the better gains. Pops or son?

When they enter the rest of the house, Harlowe’s sitting at the counter, pen in hand, reading over papers. Koha kisses her cheek, eying her last slice of cinnamon toast. “I made too much. Take the last one,” she hums not looking up from the page.

“Thanks, Ma,” he grins chomping down on the slightly cold piece of bread. “Dad and I have a poll on instagram about who has the best biceps.’

Harlowe points the tip of her pen to Koha and he beams at his father. “She’s gotta say that,” Calum retorts with a smile.

“I picked in a random direction, I swear,” she grins, finally looking up. She knows she didn’t. She picked Te Koha on purpose. “Love you Cal,” she calls out as he ascends the stairs.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he huffs. She can hear the grin in his voice.

Once everyone is awake, Calum fixes a quick breakfast, pancakes, eggs and bacon. Nikau begs to start painting the dresser so Esha throws on an old shirt she took from Calum’s drawer many years ago and Harlowe sacrifices an old shirt of hers from when they painted the new house to put on Nikau, knowing for a fact he’ll ruin his own clothes. Esha takes charge once they’re settled into the garage. She outlines what sections needs to be painted what color. She lets Nikau paint the sides of the dresser. It requires less precision, the perfect job for a seven year old.

“I’m going to miss you when you go,” Esha says to Te Koha. He leaves for uni soon. He won’t be too far away. Just far enough. “Who can I collude with to bring alcohol into the house?”

“You heard nothing, Nik,” Koha says with a wink. He winks back, understanding not to say a word. “I can come home on the weekends.”

“It’s just not the same, ya know. Your room will be empty,” she whispers, cleaning her brush before going back to detailing to make the top look like the song selections.

“I know. I’ll be there for every show and every football game too. I love you guys.”

Esha holds the back of her hand to forehead. “My stars!” Koha marks her arm with the green paint on her arms. She retaliates with the white.

“Paint the wood, not each other!” Nikau laughs. Both Esha and Te Koha eye each other before putting a mark on each of his arms. He scoffs and then swipes at Te Koha first before just barely getting Esha as she jumps out of the way.

Calum and Harlowe can hear their laughter echoing from the garage. She sneaks to the garage door from the inside of the house. Cracking open the door, she can see her babies, covered in painting, smiles on their faces. Calum peeks over the top of her head and watches the scene too. They get about halfway done painting before calling it a day. Harlowe fixes dinner that day, lunch was a free all except Nikau who eats dinosaur nuggets and broccoli.

Te Koha shouts at his departure that evening, hoping to avoid his mother’s spill. She shuffles down the hallway. “Don’t drink and drive, eat something, text you when I’m on my way back.”

She smiles and nods. “Is that Ken or Davon outside?”

“Davon. He’s got a meet tomorrow, so he’s not drinking.”

He waits for the hug, the kiss on the cheek. But she just smiles, arms folded against her chest. Her smile is different, a little shier than usual, as if holding something back. Te Koha’s heart hammers in his chest. She finally steps into him, kissing his cheek. “Tell Davon I said hi and next time, he can come inside.”

Te Koha nods, stepping through the door. He blinks rapidly, hands a little shaky. She must know. But he was sure he had been careful. As she settles back onto the couch into Calum’s side, he kisses the top of her head. “Think we should tell him we saw him last week with Davon at the gas station?”

Harlowe shakes her head. “No.” He knows she knows. He knows they’re okay with it; they love him all the same. But if he’s not ready to spil that secret, she will let him hold onto it. She will let him keep the secrets a teenager is supposed too. “Let him have that.”

Te Koha settles into the passenger seat of Davon’s car. He registers the kiss to his cheek but he’s still in shock. “Everything okay?” Davon asks, holding onto Koha’s hand for a moment.

His parents know. But they won’t bring it up. They will let him have this. This is how he’ll still be a kid to them. His parents still love him; they want him to stay young. Tears are blurring his vision. “Yeah,” he sniffs. “I’m fine.”

“You’re crying baby. You sure?”

Te Koha’s laughter is inevitable. He’s sure. He’s more than sure. He’s so glad to have his mother, even in all her craziness. There’s no one else quite like her.

#calum hood #calum hood fanfic #calum hood fic #calum hood imagine #calum hood blurb #calum hood series #dad!cal #dad!cal series #5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5sos imagine #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer imagine #calum hood x black oc #h writes

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clansayeed · 5 years ago

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Bound by Circumstance ― Chapter 8: The Tower Upright

PAIRING: Nik Ryder x trans*M!MC (Taylor Hunter) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Circumstance ⥽

Taylor Hunter (MC) has made it good for himself in New Orleans; turns out moving to a new city fresh out of college to reinvent yourself isn’t as hard as people make it out to be. Things only start to get confusing when he finds himself the target of a malevolent wraith. Good thing someone’s looking out for him though — because without Nighthunter Nik Ryder as his bodyguard he definitely won’t survive long in the twisting darkness of the supernatural underworld he’s tripped into.

Bound by Circumstance and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the book Nightbound and the rest of the Bloodbound series. Find out more [HERE].

Note: Circumstance only loosely follows the events and plotline of Nightbound, and features a separate antagonist, different character motivations, and further worldbuilding.

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Circumstance/series tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

Ryder and Taylor head to local out-of-the-way voodoo vendor Laveau’s for the final ingredient in their protection ritual. While he waits, Taylor gets his fortune told by the real deal—a spirit medium descended from Marie herself.

[READ IT ON AO3]

Krom’s barely through the threshold before Taylor pounces; hovers around him comically short and buzzing like a gnat.

“So, what did they say? Do I need to call — I don’t have my phone, shit — please tell me I’m not cut from the show.”

Luckily the stone troll looks freaked-out enough to get him to stop and apologize. “Sorry,” he mutters, “I just…”

“No, no I completely understand!” Krom scratches the tips of his head and laughs it off, “I just didn’t want to step on you.”

“He’s not that short.” calls Ivy from her booth at the back.

Taylor shrugs it off. “But I appreciate it.”

“Anyway; the company manager’s a little mad no one could reach you but I convinced them to give you a week of sick leave? Even though there was this one weirdly giddy guy…”

They join Ivy on either side. Taylor groans and rubs his hand over his face.

“That would be Antoni. He doesn’t matter. I really appreciate you doing this for me, Krom.”

“It’s no trouble!” And the troll’s voice is so filled with sincerity he has no trouble believing it.

“That’s our darling Krom.” Garrus returns behind the bar with his tray of collected dirty steins and beer glasses. “He’s like an angel; always helping others. You’ve got nothing to prove sweetheart — you know that.”

Ivy answers Taylor’s question before he even has the chance to ask it; “Stone trolls have a bit of a rep’ around here. You saw their natural element at Persephone.”

“Bodyguards, hired muscle, and the like.” Krom agrees; pointedly trying to keep his voice his usual baritone despite Garrus’ casual compliments.

“So you’re a pacifist?”

“In the flesh — so to speak.”

There’s a thud from behind and all eyes turn to see a stack of crates stumbling out from behind the back room curtain. Not hovering in midair as Taylor originally thought but carried by a very red-faced Cal. Who still forces on a smile through his gritted teeth at Garrus.

“Where… where?”

The fae gestures with a bony finger. “Just leave ‘em behind here. I’ll unpack before the evening rush.”

He slams them down before Taylor can even try to offer help — grumbles under his breath about something he can’t quite catch but he knows Cal’s grateful to Garrus for giving him a place to stay. He must be paying off the stupor he drank himself into following their return as less-than-triumphant heroes.

“I should start taking in strays more often — pun not intended,” Garrus teases but all in good humor; especially when he slides a cool glass of water for Cal to chug when his hands are free, “someone to do the heavy lifting around here and all that.”

Krom shifts in his seat. Something so subtle only the two beside him notice it. But Ivy doesn’t give him the chance to let it go and kicks his rock of a leg with her heels.

“I — I could help with whatever you need, Garrus?” Even though it comes out as more of a question than anything.

The look the two exchange is strange but fond. Garrus’ eyes softening under the twinkling lights. Maybe he regrets what he said — or the implications behind it.

“But if you’re laboring around here then what would I have to look at for inspiration?”

Not the smoothest save, in Taylor’s opinion. But Krom acts like it’s the highest form of praise and brushes the compliment off with a wave.

“Are they always like this?” Taylor whispers to Ivy. The revenant just sighs and nods. A long-suffering struggle on her end no doubt.

Heavy footfalls on metal steps herald Ryder’s arrival from the apartments above. He looks around and beelines towards Taylor in a way that almost has him jumping and hiding.

“You, me; let’s go.”

“That’s not how you ask a man out on a date, Nik.” chides Ivy as she pushes the mortals together.

“What?” He blinks; shakes himself out of whatever thoughts compelled him to seek Taylor out. “Wh — shut up, Iv’.”

“Right,” she winks, “he’ll go with you anyway. It’s part of your brutish charm.”

“Shut up, Iv’.” Taylor parrots with a glare. “Is the spell finally ready?”

Not that he’s not enjoying his time at the Shift. And following the disaster that was the Bayou and Persephone he’s not exactly eager to go into other supernatural spaces any time soon.

But he’s never been one to stay cooped up for long.

Ryder huffs. “Not quite. Damn toad wart expired. Luckily though there’s a shop down the road that carries simple ingredients — so put away that grin Iv’. I’m done owin’ you for now.”

Probably a good thing judging by the low witchy cackle she gives instead.

“So let’s get goin’, hustle hustle.”

“But wait — is it safe?” Taylor follows anyway. Keeping at the Nighthunter’s heels is practically his new job. “You didn’t even want me leaving for the theater.”

“I’ll be right there.”

“With your hallelujah arrows, right?”

“Holy light arrows, Rook. You sound like an idiot when you say that.”

“Well now I’ll keep doing it to piss you off.”

“‘Course, because why would you do anything else?”

Their bickering continues out onto the ruins of another day of Mardi Gras fun. At least some things never lose a sense of normalcy.

It’s a small shop — one of those ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ types. The shop name LAVEAU’s is hand-painted above a doorway embellished with the classic purple, green, and golden plastic beads of the season’s parties.

Taylor stops Ryder before he opens the door. “‘Laveau’s’ like…?”

“Read the signs, Rook.”

There they are clear as day; painted by the same hand as the top sign but with an artist’s frustration behind every black-painted stroke. One on the door declaring ‘Yes, like Marie herself’ and then one blue-tacked beneath it; ‘Not Affiliated with Marie Laveau’s House of Voodoo.’

“Oh. Got it.”

While the outside may lack the flair and panache that attracts the usual tourist crowds the inside is a whole other looking glass. Probably looks the way it does to differentiate between those who want fake dolls to poke with pins and those who want a real hex to mess with.

God, he’s talking about real hexes. When had this become his life?

Together they weave through the cluttered mess of uneven shelves and their uneven products. Books stacked flat where they’d fallen over at some point and left that way with little concern. A bundle of glass-looking orbs balancing precariously without cradle to keep them from rolling off the edge. A plant hanger in the middle of the room holds a pile of sage sticks just there. At second glance some look a little used.

The back ‘counter’ isn’t even that. It’s a folding table with a frayed tablecloth unevenly distributed atop and an old and rusting register in the corner.

First Taylor sees the joint resting in an ash tray made out of a mason jar lid. Only when it’s picked up and placed between two pink lips does he realize the man sitting kiddie-corner to the till.

“Welcome, wayward souls, to another side of the witch you know,” he recites as if from a script; monotone — doing everything he can to dissuade those who might darken his doorstep, “everything you see is one hundred percent bona fide authentic to the craft. Don’t do the rhyme if you can’t do the wiccan time.”

Ryder stops abruptly. Arms folded and a raised eyebrow looking over the pile of scattered tarot cards strewn across the table. That which holds the proprietor’s attention more than customers.

Unbidden he reaches out and plucks a card at random. Turns it over to stare at glittering golden words ‘The Emperor’ upside-down.

There’s no way the shop owner should know what card was grabbed — not like he can see though the matte black backing — but he gives a low and throaty chuckle. Lets smoke billow in a thin stream around the same lips now curled in a smirk.

“You always picked predictably, Ryder.”

Ryder who frisbees the card back onto the table carelessly. “I’m not still unconvinced you don’t set me up every time, Luc.”

“For all the shit you see…”

“I’ll always be skeptical of some damn cards, yeah. What else is new?”

“Good question.”

Luc finally drags his gaze up and away from his reading. Gives Ryder an easy and lazy smile that might possibly be the friendliest greeting to the Nighthunter Taylor’s seen so far. Had he not joined Ivy in teasing Krom only a short while ago he might have run himself ragged trying to understand the electric connection he’s witness to.

There’s definitely a history here.

Ryder sighs; knows Luc isn’t going to answer him until he answers himself. “The usual, man. Another day another job. Not much changes for me.”

“That’s not what I hear. In fact — I hear quite the opposite.”

“Sure those aren’t just voices from a bad trip?”

Luc laughs and kicks himself up to balance on the back two legs of his chair. Teeters dangerously close to falling backwards. “Could be, brother, could be. But I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout the spiritual radio this time. Everyone who’s anyone heard tell of a gutsy break-in among the city’s most elite. And all the chaos that followed.”

Ryder’s teeth grind together; his brow gives an almost imperceptible twitch.

“What did I tell you about listenin’ to the rumor mill, Luc?”

“Are they wrong?”

Not giving an answer is answer enough. Makes Luc give a haughty grin so wide Taylor likens him to a shark.

“I said what I said; another day, another job. It got me a rare ingredient I needed. I figured I could get the rest from your sorry ass if I could get you to look away from that damn deck long enough to ring me up.”

Luc makes everything look easy; from getting on Ryder’s bad side to letting his chair fall forward so he can stand. Like he’s not moving through air and gravity but dancing through deep watery depths.

But there’s a defensive edge to his voice — the first emotion beyond amusement — as he starts to gather up his cards.

“I’ll have you know I’m fond of this deck in particular. They were given to me as an apology from someone who never apologizes.”

“Oh yeah, what for?” Judging by Ryder’s tone, though, he already knows.

Still he lets Luc’s bright hazel eyes bore into his soul.

“Skippin’ out come dawn without so much as an adieu.”

Taylor laughs because, well, it’s funny? Only to quickly realize it’s not the right thing to be doing when he catches the strange look Ryder throws back at him; halfway and in profile — like he stops himself before he can make it a whole confrontation.

The teasing’s gone, now. “Yeah — listen, any chance I still have that standing credit here? I need frog warts and a few other things for a protection spell.”

“Ain’t like you to run around on an empty wallet.”

“Yeah, well… this job ain’t just another.”

And as ‘Another Job’ Taylor kind of takes offense to it.

Luc jerks his head towards a doorway shrouded with a curtain of thick wooden beads and the occasional bird feather. “You know where the stores are, cher. Just consider ya’self lucky Mardi Gras is a prosperous time for us all.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Luca. And if it makes you feel better the life you’re savin’ ain’t even mine.”

Taylor’s a step behind his heels when Ryder turns and keeps him at bay with a palm to his chest. His heartbeat stutters; spandex yielding to the firm press, but Ryder says nothing of it.

“Stay up here.”

Taylor scoffs. “Why? I’m not going to accidentally cast a spell or anything.”

“Maybe not, but the last thing I need is you gettin’ clumsy on the wrong object and fuckin’ us both even deeper.”

While he fumbles for a retort worthy of the witty comeback, though, Ryder makes his escape. Calls back; “don’t touch anything, don’t look at anything — and don’t let him suck you up in that damn deck!” before he’s gone in a clatter of beads.

They both know he’s not going to listen — he only says it so he can tell Taylor off when something inevitably happens. That seems to be how they function. Not that he plans on flailing his arms and messing with the first thing he hits, but…

“Since you ain’t dead I’m gonna assume Ryder’s not takin’ on the role’a teacher of the nighthunting arts.”

Snaps Taylor’s attention back to Luc; back in his chair and shuffling the deck in long and ring-adorned fingers.

“No.”

“Good. You might just stay alive then.”

“Apparently that’s a hard thing to do so, sure.”

Luc gestures to the chair across from him. It’s an offer, not a demand, but out of spite for Ryder’s twenty different moods — follow me, don’t follow me, around and around again — he takes it up. Watches Luc shuffle and reshuffle with naught but the soft collision of the cards as music.

When he realizes Ryder’s going to take his time, he figures the best way to start might be an introduction.

“I’m —”

“Pick a few cards for me, Taylor.”

He hadn’t even realized the man had started a spread; each card turned down and black as the void in a soft arc reaching out to him across the table.

Luc is courteous enough not to blow smoke in his face. Sits back slightly hunched and letting his focus flicker between Taylor and the cards. Like both are equally likely to speak to him in the silence.

“It’s probably useless asking how you knew my name, huh?”

“Smart boy. Sometimes they whisper an’ sometimes they scream, but I gotta say it’s been a good long while since I heard the cards call out the way they do to you, Taylor Hunter.

“So help me out here. Pick a few and let them show us why they’re so damn chatty.”

He wants to point out that the only chatty one around is Luca himself, but again that’s one of those useless things he’s finally starting to come to terms with. Knows another useless thing would be to ask why he can’t hear anything… but that’s because hearing is the only word he can think to describe it too.

They’re cards — just plain tarot cards. But like inky tendrils they’re reaching out to him across the table on another plane of reality. One where they have soft black fingers that wrap around his wrists and bring his hands to hover over them. Like safety.

Ryder said… “Well, Ryder said…”

The look Luc gives him cuts him off. Yeah, that was a bit of a stretch, wasn’t it?

He points at random; watches Luc pull a card out without flipping it over. Keeps going until a curt nod cuts him off and nine rectangles of shadow form a square across from him.

“This ain’t your average reading,” that much being obvious by the reverent way the shopkeep looks down at his selection, “and I ain’t your average reader. You’re not from around here.”

“Are you asking?”

“No. But I figure that means you did what all newcomers do — got yourself one of those back room phony shows at the House of Voodoo.”

He wants to say he hasn’t only for how ashamed Luc’s tone makes him feel about it. But yeah — yeah he had. Doesn’t remember much about the event itself but knows somewhere buried in the clutter of his desk back at his place there’s a piece of paper from whatever the alleged ‘psychic’ had him ask.

Luc nods slowly. “Mmhm. Sometimes — ‘bout as oft’n as pigs fly — the cards they play don’t listen and give out an ounce of truth. Nothing life-changing, but a slip enough to tempt the handler into believing.

“You won’t get none’a that here. Whatever’s shown when I flip these babies around has been, is, or will be whether you know it or not. But they only tell as much of a tale as you’re ready to hear.”

The unasked question: are you ready to hear it? And Taylor isn’t sure he knows how to answer.

He knows a lot about himself; inside and out. Has lived through too much and shoved too much inside for too long not to. It’s something he’s proud of. A lot of people spend their lives with no understanding of their inner self but he’s never had that problem.

But there’s a difference between knowing it and seeing… whatever these cards might show him.

What if what he knows isn’t what they say?

Life would be easier if Ryder took that opportune moment to reappear and save him the trouble of having to make the choice.

But life isn’t easy.

He nods — but before Luc can flip over the first card he reaches out and stops him.

“I’m not, like, sealing a deal with a demon or something, am I?” Judging by the look he gets he really shouldn’t have asked.

“Do I look like a demon?”

“I don’t know what demons look like.” He knows it’s a lie but says it anyway; can think only of that skeletal face sneering at him under the moonlight.

Luckily it’s not enough to deter the shopkeep who just bats Taylor’s hand away. “Judgin’ by your ghostly pallor I’m gonna call your fib on that one. But if it eases ya mind; no. No deals here. I get as much outta this as you do.”

Well that’s okay then, isn’t it?

Luc flips the first card over and has himself a little laugh. And why wouldn’t he — The Fool isn’t just an apt card but an apt description.

Taylor’s humor is, however, short-lived. “Seriously?”

“You drew the card. Only one to blame is you.”

“So I’m gonna be even more of a joke in my future or something?”

Luc shakes his head; spreads his fingers as far as they’ll go as the shadow of his palm casts over the center card. “This ain’t your future, but your self. This is you, Mister Hunter.”

“A fool.”

“A man of innocence,” comes the quick correction, “and oftentimes a free spirit. You do your own thing; march to your own drum. Ev’ry Sally and Joe likes to laugh at the Fool but he’s got his eyes set on the horizon and that’s worth admirin’. So don’t sell him — or ya’self — short.”

Innocent — not quite. But the rest Taylor doesn’t disagree with. Seems he knows himself as well as he thought.

Luc’s painted nail traces along a jagged line on the image. “But see here; the Fool stands at the cliff’s edge. He’s a card so it ain’t in his nature to look anywhere but where he’s told but you’re not a card, are ya?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you lookin’ forward at the horizon or down into that abyss,” — he flips over another card before Taylor can answer — “or maybe you see the Tower on the other side.”

The Tower card is actually at the Fool’s back but he’s learned enough now not to question the metaphors.

“All that love for life might come at a cost. An’ hey — maybe it’s one you’re willin’ to pay. I don’t judge.”

No matter how hard he looks he knows he isn’t going to see the same thing as his reader. But… “I’m gonna need you to be a little less cryptic and a little more straightforward.”

“This ain’t science. Everything’s up for interpretation when the cards are involved.”

“Okay so interpret what exactly you mean by a cost. What cost?”

His rings drum on the plastic surface slowly before Luc clicks his tongue. “Looks to me like you’ve been through some shit lately. Life-changin’ shit — shit that skips right over dippin’ a toe into destiny and pushes you right in the deep end tied to an anchor — or ten.”

Finally Luc looks back up but his gaze is guarded; carefully and excellently so. He can’t get a thing out of just a look.

“I could have told you that.” He mutters a defensive reply. “A couple of days ago everything was fine and then my best friend’s in a coma, I find out the shit I’ve been hallucinating my whole life is real, and on top of it some big scary Ugly wants my skinny ass for a meal.”

“That explains our friend Ryder, then.” Luc almost seems to peek at the row’s last hidden card. When he turns the Eight of Cups over the hum he hums reminds Taylor of endless weeks of therapists and their noncommittal noises failing to cover the scratching of pen on paper. “And it’s all a helluva lot, I bet.”

It’s a bit hard to play off the full-body adjustment to hide his discomfort but Taylor likes to think he pulls it off pretty well.

“Understatement of the century.”

“Makes a world ‘a sense. You’ve tried gettin’ away from it.”

“Actually I haven’t really had the time.”

Only Luc disagrees; shakes his head curtly and offers the Cups to Taylor like it’s written on the surface in plain sight. “The cards ain’t just talkin’ ‘round the physical. Sometimes we do all the runnin’ in our minds and we don’t even know it. It could be as simple as connecting new things in ya life to old ones and convincing ya’self they’re the same; whether they are or not.”

Oh, there it is — on the surface and in plain sight. Struggling for Cal and Donny. Taking blame for what happened (not that he’d tell Cal, he’s got enough to feel bad over). Jumping down Krom’s throat about the theater company.

“Don’t beat ya’self up too bad,” continues Luc in a way that makes him freeze in the sudden fear that he can read thoughts as well as tarot cards, “a little escapism is good for the soul. The hard part’s when you gotta come back to reality an’ doin’ it without a fight.”

Taylor offers the card back and watches it settle home beside the Fool. The same Fool he’s now a little reluctant to identify with so quickly. “Yeah. I guess.”

“Got it — now cut the ramblin’; you’re talkin’ over the cards.”

Only hasn’t he been the one doing all the talking? Arguing won’t help but that little nugget of petulance persists.

This time Luc reveals three cards one after the other. Makes sure to let each one rest face-up before moving on. Letting them breathe. Letting them speak.

Strength. The Hermit. The Two of Swords. The first two facing Taylor this time as if in judgment. No; they haven’t drawn that card just yet.

He realizes he’s waiting on bated breath when his lungs start to burn and beg for fresh air. Why is he so quiet all of a sudden?

“Tell me more about those hallucinations ya mentioned, Taylor.”

That’s not where he was expecting that to go at all; catches him off guard. “Sorry?”

“Don’t be,” but the other man sounds distant; lost in his thoughts, “jus’ tell me. Said you been seein’ things ‘your whole life’ right?”

“Yeah. But I’d really rather not, uh, go into…” Wasn’t his life story down on the cards? It was hard enough explaining everything to Kristin — and they knew things about one another bound to secrecy by the sanctity of roommate-dom. So he tries to keep it all in the realm of the reading; “I mean I know what they are now. I was seeing glamours. Like through them — without a charm or spell or whatever. I dunno, Nik can explain it better.”

When Luc doesn’t give the same shocked jaw-drop the trio at the Shift had he entertains the brief hope that the same talent runs through the psychic’s veins. But that’s dashed when he catches sight of the unconscious way Luc grabs onto one of the numerous stone pendants draped over his neck — the way he thumbs over the polished surface and tugs on the leather cord.

It’s not the same one Ryder has but pretty damn close; close enough to assume his glamour-charm used to have a home in this very shop.

“That kind-a inner sight’s awful rare.” He practically mumbles.

“Yeah, it’s been mentioned.”

“Not unheard of, mind you. Not in things that ain’t entirely mortal by blood and bone. When you draw Strength in reverse it’s not the opposite like you’d think; it ain’t sayin’ you lack strength.

“Think of it more like the meanin’ is just turned about. Upright’s outside and the other is inside.”

“So it’s inner strength.” He can get behind that.

“Or lack of it.”

I’m fucking sorry? “Who—what-now?”

“This row,” he gestures a little too grandly for the subject matter, “is your past, present, and future. I told you the cards were screamin’ — and they still are — but not this one,” — not Strength — “this’un’s more of a whisper. And it makes sense given that you called ‘em ‘hallucinations.’”

“And an explanation for us ‘card’-of-hearing?”

Luc bites his tongue — really and without metaphor; wince and all. Grabs a stray bit of crumpled receipt from god-knows when his last sale was and scribbles on it in blocky letters.

“‘Note to self,’” he enunciates his writing harshly, “‘add sign to shop: ‘Owner Has the Right to Refuse Service on Account of Shitty Fucking Puns.’”

The glare that follows tells Taylor it won’t be long before that sign has his name added to avoid confusion.

No regrets. None at all.

Puns aside, though? The level eye he gets across the cards takes a turn for the serious.

“I think it tells me a lot more than you’re ready to share. About ya life before this; about the things you done to make the pain go away. Some of us may be human but that don’t mean we ain’t still animals. And animals lash out when they’re scared.”

He’s right. It’s a lot more than Taylor’s ready to share. Makes him want to scramble the deck — flip the table on its end. And maybe the old version of him, the version in those cards, might have.

In his silence Luc gets the answer — “moving on…” he almost sing-songs — lets his fingertips dance on the card showing the present: the Hermit.

Which Taylor tries not to take personally. Who is there to be angry at other than himself?

“So since that one’s reversed too that means… what, that I’m a hermit on the inside?”

“I can see how you’d think that,” laughs Luc, “but not quite. How about we let the professional do his profession?”

Taylor gestures. The professional carries on. “It ain’t easy comin’ into this life so late. ‘Specially when you end up seein’ all the bad before a lick’a good comes your way. But you’re drownin’ in it — that’s what the Hermit’s tellin’ us. No time to ruminate?”

He scoffs. “Something like that.”

“Well make time. Lest it all starts crashin’ down and you get the proverbial water in ya lungs.”

“It’s not by choice. There’s things after me and —”

“And excuses ain’t gonna keep you afloat.” The man reaches over faster than Taylor can move back; actually flicks his forehead dead center.

“Ow!” He swats Luc’s hand away.

“It ain’t me sayin’ this, Hunter. It’s them,” he gestures to the cards, “and they know more about this world than either of us could learn in a hundred lifetimes. Take ya damn time and really work out how you feel. Else you won’t be able to face this here future with a clear head.”

Luckily Taylor doesn’t have to ask; isn’t certain he’d be able to as he looks at the Two of Swords card and feels sweat start to bead at his temples.

Playing with tarot cards is all fun and games when you don’t believe. Even when you do — a measure of healthy skepticism is good for the soul. But with everything he’s seen; been told?

Who would willingly ask for their future foretold after that?

“I think we can skip to the next cards.”

“Oho, this don’t work like that.”

“Why,” doing his best to keep his voice level, “it’s my reading, right? I don’t want to know.”

“Sucks to be you, then. You draw; you listen. That’s how all true readin’s go.” Luc leans back on the creaky chair and lets the Swords card flip and twirl between his fingers.

He could make it easy on them both; stop arguing and just get up and leave the reading unfinished. Find Ryder in the back and apologize for doing what he said not to do — again — and book it out of there right quick.

But he doesn’t.

“Now I get why Nik said not to do this.”

“Ha — well, hindsight ain’t much use in a house of foresight baby. So listen; an’ listen well.

“In proper tarot some cards are real close in meanin’. That’s where the spread comes in — the order, the intent; not to mention the cards all ‘round it. The Swords in your future point to some hard fuckin’ choices. And if ya keep on the path ya’re on you won’t be makin’ ‘em with all your marbles.

“I ain’t talkin’ about decisions that can be made for you, neither. When it comes down to it you’re likely to find ya’self alone — not only in the act a’ choosin’ but in dealin’ with the consequences.”

“So what kind of choices? What do the cards scream about that?”

“They don’t —” he tosses the card back down and it’s probably not a coincidence that it slides magically askew back in the reading’s place, “— on account of all the changes between now and when that time comes.

“The cards give truths where mortals lie; hope where the world pushes despair. But at the end’a everythin’ they’re just cards — bound by the same circumstances as you or I.”

It’s probably meant to be poignant; something that might be sold on a re-purposed wooden palette hand-painted and polished. In a shop similar to this — right between the mismatched crystal balls and Ryder’s coveted frog warts.

But all Taylor can think is; “Well that’s absolutely useless to me beyond freaking me out.”

Luc gives another one of his gap-toothed grins — “C’est la vie, mon petit,” — and doesn’t wait for permission or argument to reveal another card.

“If it makes ya feel any better —”

“Doubtful at this point.”

“— Fair. But they won’t leave ya hangin’. Unless the Hanged Man is drawn, a’course. Naw, rest easy knowin’ you won’t be goin’ the journey alone.”

He frowns; confused. “But you just said —”

“Hush. All the best journeys are made with friends. Though I… I ain’t sure I’d call the Nine a’Wands a friend…”

Curiosity replaced by twists and turns of his bewildered head; Luc bites down on his thumb nail and scrutinizes the seventh draw. “In fact, I’d call whomever this bad draw represents —”

“Ryder!”

The Nighthunter emerges in a wave of beads carrying a pearly sphere the size of his head tucked in the crook of his arm. At the same time Taylor jumps — a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar — and swears when his knee bangs under the table.

Luc doesn’t notice — or doesn’t care; still fixated on the black-and-gold design in front of him. Mutters “could be him, but…” under his breath so low that no one catches it.

Taylor fumbles for an explanation — which is a pretty stupid move seeing as he was ready to just come clean only a minute ago — but doesn’t get the chance. Though he would like to state that it probably would have been an extremely convincing and well-versed one had Ryder not just held up a hand and rolled his eyes.

“I figured you’d ignore me. Already took out my anger with a mortar and pestle in the back.”

Well he’s a little offended now. “I wasn’t blatantly disobeying you or anything,” then; “I’m a grown adult and can make my own choices.”

And doesn’t that karma come around to bite him in the ass pretty damn fast. He makes a great effort not to look at what is no doubt a haughty look of ‘I told you so.’

“Yeah yeah, cry me a river.”

He props the sphere on a large cushion nearby to keep it from rolling and drags the last free seat over into Taylor’s personal bubble. Already looking at the spread like he, too, can hear these alleged screams from the deck. “So, Luc? Any tell on whether or not I’m gonna get paid for this gig?”

“Wha — hey!”

Taylor knows he doesn’t hit Nik’s arm that hard but the offended look he gets back is more than enough.

“Ouch. That hurt.”

“If that hurt I need a new bodyguard.”

“Don’t tempt me to pawn you off.”

“Please do.”

A tinny click draws their focus away from each other and to Luc’s newly lighted blunt. No longer puzzled by the cards — his eyes are brighter; they shine with understanding.

“Nevermind. I get it, now.”

“Get what?” barks Nik a little too defensively.

“Didn’ I jus’ tell ya not to mind it?”

Taylor cuts Nik off before he can continue arguing. They’ve been here too long already. “If we can’t leave until this is finished — can you finish?”

Two cards remain to be revealed. The fortune teller takes his sweet time with a few puffs before agreeing, if reluctantly. Maybe he just doesn’t like an audience?

All sense of the mysterium is gone. Luc flips the cards one at a time with one hand while sucking in his joint with the other.

The Five of Swords. The Wheel of Fortune.

It’s totally the secondhand high that makes the golden wheel glitter and seem to turn before their eyes. Totally.

He braces himself for another round of cryptic semi-explanations. Only they don’t come. Luc’s eyelids droop heavy — almost closed. And judging by Nik’s frown that’s not a normal part of the reading.

“Luca? Hey —” — he snaps in front of the man’s face — “— Laveau!”

He doesn’t quite jerk out of his momentary trance; eyelids flutter as if awakening from a dream.

“Maybe you had a point, Hunter,” after a throaty cough, “maybe it’s best this go unfinished.”

“What seriously? After all that earlier shit?” He balks. Beside him Ryder grabs the Swords and looks it over back to front.

“You’ve never left a reading hanging. What gives?”

“He’s still new to the life. I think he’s had enough bad news for today.”

Taylor practically snatches the card from Nik. But it seems just as reluctant to give up its secrets to him, too. Makes him toss it back down in frustration.

“Just tell me,” even he can’t believe what he’s saying, “since I dunno if it’s worse to know or to guess.”

“Trust me. The worst one’s knowin’.”

“I’ll take that as you’ve never encountered crippling anxiety, then.”

In rare sympathetic form Ryder reaches out and rests a hand on Luc’s exposed forearm. They aren’t hiding behind quips or dancing words any longer; you could see the remnants of intimacy between them from space.

“Luc — come on. For my sake, too.”

The doubt doesn’t ease off from the fortune teller’s brow. In fact it looks deeper than ever before. Finally he yields. “All right — but don’t blame me or the cards. We’re jus’ messengers after all.”

No longer in need of a familiar touch Luc shakes the hand off. Mutters something unintelligible under his breath and takes another few puffs to calm himself down before he covers the Five of Swords like he can’t do the reading while looking at it.

“There’s more than difficult choices ahead for you — and for those what end up around you. A fight looms —” he turns the Swords card on its back atop the revealed Wheel of Fortune, “— on a bigger horizon than that’a the Vieux Carre. Might even be one bigger than this world of ours.

“Not so much a fight as a battle; a war. Turnin’ and churnin’ at the banks of the river and out into the ocean. Ready to flood the whole damn city — every corner of the earth. And it’ll keep ragin’ and screamin’ with every body what falls to it.”

Ryder goes still as stone beside him. Taylor finds himself revisiting the notion of it being better not knowing.

“What does any of that have to do with me?”

“You, Mister Hunter — you’re smack dab in the middle of it. More’n that… you belong there.”

Apologies. Sympathy. Condolences. Luc can’t seem to settle on one way to look at Taylor so instead he just focuses on packing his deck back up. He isn’t as careful this time around — like he’s angry at the cards and what they had to say; to scream. Two separate entities working off of one another but, at the very least, both unhappy with the outcome.

“I’ll get a box for that crystal ball — the warts are yours but I’ll need interest on that relic.” He can’t get away from the pair fast enough. Shuffles the tarot deck in his hands as he goes.

He wants to be surprised that Nik doesn’t follow; doesn’t go to check on someone he obviously has a past and present connection with. But in the goody bag of his emotions he just keeps pulling out resignation — even when he cheats and peeks inside.

That’s all there is. All he can feel.

Where’s that opportunity for escapism the cards had mentioned earlier? He could use a bit of that at the moment.

Doesn’t know when exactly Nik started trying to comfort him; hand on his upper back, the gentle back-and-forth of his thumb. Taylor’s not a big fan of touch but that seems to be how Ryder connects to the world; through the physical.

And oddly it’s working. The comfort thing.

“You okay?”

He’ll sass such a ridiculous question later. “Uh, honestly I don’t really know what I am right now.”

Ryder’s face is unusually close when Taylor looks his way. The barest flicker — a crack in the bravado. Nik is worried for him.

“That can happen after Luc’s readings. You think I warned ya away to keep you from somethin’ fun? Knowin’ his connection with the spirit world makes it all really…”

He struggles for the right word. Weird, coming from him.

“‘Real?’” offers Taylor, and gets him a nod.

“Yeah, really real.”

Noises of shuffled boxes and Luc’s grunts draw them out of Taylor’s personal space and back to the world around them. Up near the back curtain Luc gently eases the crystal ball into a wooden box.

“So, question.”

“Yeah Rook?”

“What do we do now?” Because if turning tail and running like a shameless coward away from this war is an option, he’s taking it.

“We keep on going,” Nik answers, “We get back to the Shift and finish up this blasted protection spell and then we dive into findin’ your attacker and punch a bunch’a holy light holes in it’s ugly-ass face.”

This time when he reaches into the bag of emotions, luck gives him a break and lets him pull out the barest ghost of a smile.

“Man, it is ugly. Like — fugly ugly.”

Ryder’s smile is just as small — but no less sincere — than his.

“It damn sure is.”

#nightbound #nik ryder x mc #nik ryder #playchoices #choices fanfiction #cal lowell #garrus #krom #ivy #nightbound mc #mc: taylor hunter #oblv: bound by circumstance #oblv: new chapter #; my fics

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rock-em-sock-em-rock-n-roll · 5 years ago

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Blueberry Pancakes (The Dirt! Nikki/Tommy)

Pt. One

(Summary: Nikki wakes up with Tommy in his bed, and tries to remember what happened the night before.)

Warnings: Alcohol, slight smut, swearing

Nikki’s POV

Oh God, my head hurt. What day was it? Saturday? Monday? Tuesday? I didn’t know. All I knew was that I was hungover, and I needed more sleep.

I rolled around in my bed, trying to find a comfortable sleeping position, when I bumped into something. That something was Tommy Lee. What the fuck happened last night? Just how drunk was I?

I looked over at him despite myself. His face was completely covered in the sheets he pulled over from my side of the bed. Okay, so he was a blanket hogger. Good to know. -Wait. Why would that be good to know? Scratch that bit.

Although I couldn’t see his face, I could tell it was Tommy by that huge, trademark hair of his. I’d never say it aloud, in fact I almost never even think it, but sometimes I got jealous of Tommy’s hair. Only sometimes.

I was shaken out of my thoughts when Tommy rolled over, finally revealing his face. Damn, was he pretty. Even when he was drooling he was gorgeous. He looked so peaceful and happy. The happiness, I’m glad to say, I was used to. But the peacefulness was a nice change of pace. Now don’t get me wrong, I loved the usual restless, wild Tommy. We were absolute hell when we were being restless and wild together -get your mind out of the fucking gutter- We were the Terror Twins, after all. It was just nice to see him all calm and relaxed. He deserved it. You know what else he deserved? Some fuckin blueberry pancakes.

I quietly get dressed, without disturbing Tommy, shielding my eyes from the ultra-bright sunlight that somehow came in so vibrantly from the closed curtains. I get a little dizzy now and then thanks to the hangover, but I power through it. This routine is nothing new. Aside from Tommy being here, someone I care about, instead of just some groupie I hardly knew.

I walked into the kitchen, and looked for any clues that might have told me what happened the night before. There was nothing unusual besides Tommy’s jacket on the ground by the door. Somehow, that’s exactly what my brain needed to get the memory stirring.

~Last night~

~ Tommy and I rushed in, practically hanging of each other. I tore off his jacket, leaving it on the floor, as he smothered me with wet, speedy kisses, starting at my lips, and making his way down my neck. A small moan escaped my lips.

We were both completely wasted. Nothing new there. What was new, was the sensation Tommy was giving me. We had never kissed before that night, but in that same night, we went way over that line.

We made our way to the bedroom, and things escalated pretty quickly from there. The weirdest thing about all this was how much I enjoyed it. And I don’t just mean Tommy’s body -Although Tommy’s body was a huge plus- but just being with Tommy alone, for once. All alone. All to me. ~

~Present~

Okay, so with that, and some other pieces I’d put together, we didn’t just get drunk and fuck. We talked and danced at some club.

~Last Night~

~ “Hey, Tommy,” I greeted Tommy, who was sitting at the bar, trying to get some big shot producer to leave him alone. “Why don’t you piss off, Suit?” I said to the producer. He left immediately, as if I was the first person to say this.

The waitress came and took my order of a rum and coke. Tommy was at least buzzed, I could tell.

“Hey, Nik,” he smiled. “You look nice tonight. Did you do something new? Maybe new lipstick?” He was staring at my lips, and complementing my lipstick when I wasn’t even wearing any. Yeah, he was definitely drunk.

I laughed, “Thanks, dude.”

“Dude’s getting kind of old. Why don’t you come up with another name for me? Maybe even change my last name.” He winked.

I stammered. “Uh, yeah, sure, Tommy. Whatever you want.”

“You mean that? Anything I want?”

A waitress came and brought me my drink, and I chugged it down quickly, wanting to keep talking to Tommy. I knew he was just saying all this because he was drunk, but I wouldn’t deny that I loved it.

Another waitress past by, and saw that I had emptied my drink, so she slid me another one, which I also knocked back.

“Anything,” I challenged, leaning forward. Tommy leaned forward too, and for a second I thought he was going to kiss me.

Instead he said, “Come dance with me.”

Before I could even answer, he had dragged me to the dance floor. Vince was off on the side, flirting with some girl, and Mick sat at the bar, drinking.

Unsurprisingly, Tommy was a great dancer. What he did with his hips, I couldn’t even describe. Soon he held out his hand for me to grab, and he pulled me into his arms, flush against him. He grabbed my waist, and somehow managed to bring me even closer to him.

“T-Tommy,” I stutter, completely red faced. Just what was he trying to do to me?

“Yeah, baby?” He whispers breathily into my ear. I shiver, and he’s so close he can feel it. “There a problem?”

“Yes,” I thought. “You’re not in my bed.” “No, Tommy Boy. Nothing’s wrong.” He laughed his amazing laugh at “Tommy Boy”.

“Good. I wouldn’t want you to be…” He thrusted his hips into mine, causing me to go weak. “uncomfortable,” he purred.

“Tommy, we’re in public,” I told him, voice threatening to give out. I looked over to Mick and Vince who were now both at the bar, laughing senselessly at us.

“Then come on,” he whispered in my ear. “Let’s have some booze.” And with that, he slowly dragged his hand across my chest before swaying off to the bar. I followed, not knowing what else I would do.

Once I made my way through the crowd and to the bar, Tommy had already ordered me a whiskey.

“There you are, Nikki. I was afraid you ran away,” Tommy said, smiling.

“What? Run? From you? Now why would I do that?” I took a swig from my glass bottle, and looked him in the eyes. “I’d never run from you.”

He leaned in closer. “You mean that?” And then he kissed me. He really fucking kissed me. I’m not gonna lie, I was a little disappointed that our first kiss was when we were both two sheets to the wind, but what are you gonna do? He kissed me, so I wasn’t gonna focus on the little details.

I could see Vince and Mick from the corner of my eye. Mick rolled his eyes at us, but I could see a little smile. Vince looked genuinely surprised that we kissed, which I thought was kind of strange, considering he wasn’t at all shocked to see us practically grinding on the dance floor earlier.

I kissed Tommy back, because what else would I possibly do? Why would I want to do anything else? His lips were soft, and maybe a little chapped, but that was covered with his blood red lipstick, which I was sure was now on my own lips.

He gently pulled away, and put a bottle up to my lips. I took a sip.

“Stop trying to get me even more drunk than I already am.” He looked at me a little sad. Did he think I only loved him when I was drunk? I fucking loved him weather I was sober or not, and he better have known that. “I love you when I’m sober too, babe.” Did. I. Just. Fucking. Drop. The. L. Bomb. Did. I. Really. Just. Fucking. Do. That.

He looked completely taken aback. That was understandable. But also com-fucking-lutely nerve wracking.

But then he smiled. He smiled his pretty, gorgeous, life saving smile.

“I love you too, Nikki.” Nosebleed time? No. Not yet. But I did want to fucking faint and fall into his arms. Tommy said he loved me. Tommy said he loved me.

I couldn’t even say anything. So I did what any rational person would do. I grabbed his faced, and smashed it into mine. He giggled into my lips. He was so perfect.

But something was weird… He was absolutely shitfaced, but he hardly smelled or tasted like alcohol. I pulled away and looked at him, confused.

He seemed nervous now.

“What’s wrong?” It kind of hurt me to see him looking scared of me like this. Did he think he did something wrong?

“Nothing, just…. Are you sober right now?”

I know it’s kind of weird for the first chapter to leave off in a cliff-hanger in a flashback, but whatever.

At first this was at first gonna only be a short fluff oneshot, but do you really think I control the stuff I write? Do you really?

Anyway, I hoped you liked this, and the second chapter is on it’s way.

@fan-with-issues If anyone else wants me to tag them in the next chapter, all you have to do is ask :)

#fanfic #motley crue #terrorcest #god i don't like that ship name lol #nikki x tommy #tommy lee #nikki sixx #mick mars #vince neil #blueberry pancakes fic #god i hope this isnt trash

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vintageneptune92 · 6 years ago

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Do The Unexpected

@fafulous requested this forever and a day ago. I wrote it and apparently never posted it? Well here it is.

"You look amazing tonight" Elijah fluff/smut please!

So I don’t do full blown smut. But I hope you like this!!

You stood in your room at the Salvatore Boarding House staring at yourself in the full length mirror. It was the night of the Mikaelson Ball and Elijah had invited you to be his date. The thought of him made the heat rise to your cheeks. The dress you wore was a dark teal. The bodice was a satin with a sweetheart neckline covered in black beading. The full skirt was made of tulle. The dark teal color accented your hair and skin beautifully.

You didn’t start out having feelings for him. Quite the opposite actually. Elena was like your baby sister. Your Mother, Miranda, Abby and Liz Forbes were all close friends. Like Abby and Bonnie, you and your mother were also Witches from a strong bloodline. You were the sole survivor. Miranda and Grayson had taken you in when your mother died. You had most recently learned that Mikael had killed your mother before Abby and entombed him.

Your mother was strong enough to break the Hybrid Curse without the Sacrifices. Mikael wanted to make sure that Klaus could never find her. Sheila had been protecting you while Abby took care of The Mikaelson Patriarch. Sheila knew that had Mikael known that you were the last of your bloodline he would have slaughtered you as well. She knew that you too one day would be strong enough to perform the spell. So she burned the pages of your mother’s Grimoire to keep you safe. The spell died with your mother. When you met Elijah, he had kidnapped Elena, attacked Damon and Rose and then made some asinine deal with Elena that you knew would end her life. So you went after him. You didn’t care that he was an Original. He had admired your courage and loyalty to your family. That had enraged you. The way he acted as if you were simply and itch that needed to be scratched. You unleashed your substantial power on him, after his shock wore off, he figured out who you were. No one had ever told you the truth about your Mother’s death. Elijah held you as you sobbed at the thought of the pain your mother went through. She endured torture at the hands of Mikael. You spent a substantial amount of time with Elijah as he told you stories about your mother before you had been born. He had found information on your bloodline when he had been searching for a way to break Klaus’ curse. At that time they didn’t know that Katherine’s bloodline had continued. They didn’t know there was hope for another Doppleganger. Originally he wanted her to break the curse. However he had discovered your mother after he and Klaus had their falling out. Elijah instead found her to warn her. They became friends and he promised to protect her. Unfortunately he was too late to save her from his father. The two of you researched to try and piece together the spell to break The Hybrid Curse. You were getting close and then Katherine convinced Damon to dagger Elijah. You felt his absence. That’s when you knew you cared for him. You had tried to convince Damon and Stefan to undagger him. That you had almost figured out how to stop the sacrifice, but almost wasn’t enough. So you continued searching. Fearing for Elena’s life and missing Elijah. You and Elijah had continued to work on the spell once Elena removed the dagger. He had a contingency plan. But that was useless once Damon fed her his blood. At that point Elijah asked you to stop working in the spell. Elena would survived the sacrifice. He was afraid Klaus would kill you even if you did break the curse for him. Elijah couldn’t have that. He felt for you what you felt for him. That night he had betrayed you all when he didn’t kill Klaus. You hated yourself for not finishing the spell. Had you, Jenna and John would still be alive. It was then that you moved in with Stefan and Damon. Your mother was dead. Miranda and Grayson, your surrogate parents were dead. And then Jenna. You needed a change of scenery. The betrayal and grief were a lot to deal with. Elijah had left you a long voicemail explaining himself and asked for you to meet him at the apartment when he and Klaus returned. That was when you watched Klaus dagger him again. Stefan made you run as he worked on Klaus to save Damon. You, Elena and Damon had spent that summer hunting for Stefan and grieving. You just had to add Elijah to the list of those you had lost. You smiled at yourself in the mirror thinking about the day Damon had undaggered Elijah. After everything that had happen, there was a light at the end of the tunnel. The monster that took your mother was dead. Granted that meant Klaus lived but you couldn’t help but be happy karma had been served. Stefan was back and filled with humanity even if he pretended he wasn’t. And you were going to see Elijah again. You had went with Damon to meet up with him after he had surprised Klaus. You couldn’t stop yourself from running to him and jumping into his arms. No one had ever kissed you like that before. “You look gorgeous.” Damon’s voice came from the doorway. You turned and smiled at him. “Thank you.” “Elijah is a lucky guy.” He had the signature Damon smirk on his face. “He better keep you safe from Mommy Dearest and the rest of his psycho family.” “I can take care of myself you know. I might not be able to kill them, but I can sure as hell make them wish they were dead.” Damon smirked. “Stefan still pretending his humanity is off?” “Yes. I just don’t know why.” “Yes you do Damon. Stefan’s guilt knows no bounds. He slaughtered dozens of people because Klaus told him to. He attacked Elena when he was compelled and was pretty much an obnoxious dick to her. And while his sarcasm amused me, it hurt her. And then him threatening to drive her off the bridge? He doesn’t think he can come back from any of that. So he pretends.” “You’re right. I just hope he behaves tonight.” “He will. He’s been on his best behavior. Elena will be there. If he ever wants a chance of getting back with her he won’t make a move she won’t approve of.” You studied Damon’s expression. “I know that’s not what you want. And I know that you love her and want to be with her. But if she chooses Stefan...” “You mean when.” He huffed. “No if- then promise me you’ll move on. You’re not the monster YOU pretend to be. And you deserve to be happy too.” You patted his cheek. “Wait- what do you mean Elena will be there? She promised she’d stay home.” “Uhh no. She didn’t. You demanded, she ignored. Stop trying to control everything.” “If I was you certainly wouldn’t be with Elijah. You smacked him in the arm and headed out of the room. “See you later.” You winked at him and headed downstairs to the car Elijah had sent for you. “Well hello darling...” Kol oogled you as you walked into the Mikaelson Mansion.“Kol I wouldn’t unless you want Elijah to feed you your entrails.” Klaus quipped. He kissed you on the cheek. “Elijah will be down shortly. Primping and what not. Come, we’ll get you a drink while you wait Y/N” Klaus gestured for you to take his arm and you complied. Klaus on his best behavior was something you weren’t used to. You figure you should enjoy it while it lasted. He led you to the bar area and handed you a glass of champagne. “I hope you know that Elijah will lose his mind when he sees you in that dress” Klaus had his signature teasing smirk gracing his face. You wished he was like this all of the time. When the paranoia didn’t rule. You expressed your gratitude and he left you to your drink. A little while later you had your back to the party, it had just started filling up. You hadn’t even noticed him approaching. You were in your own little world. You almost jumped out of your skin when his hand graced your waist. When you spun around your face grew crimson in embarrassment. Elijah looked handsome as ever in his tuxedo. “You look amazing tonight.” Was the first thing that came out of his mouth. You didn’t know if it was the champagne or the grandeur of the evening that made everything seem fuzzy. It was like a movie. When Elijah leaned down and kissed you, you felt like everything around you was spinning. You spent the evening on Elijah’s arm, shipping champagne and dancing. You couldn’t have been happier. A while later you and Rebekah were upstairs giggling like school girls but you just couldn’t stop. “Y/N you are absolutely drunk!” Rebekah exclaimed while laughing. “I blame Klaus really. He got me my first drink.” “But not the remaining 5.” You shrugged and took a sip out of the bottle you had in your hands and passed it to her. “When in doubt- blame Nik.” “That is an excellent motto Y/N” Kol was smirking from the doorway. “Why are you two hiding up here?” “She’s annoyed with Elena. I’m annoyed with Caroline and the Salvatore drama is too much of a buzz kill. Elijah was chatting Elena up so I slipped up here. Apparently she had a sagey closed door meeting with your mommy and he’s curious.” You shrugged. “She is smashed.” Kol laughed he picked you up and spun you around. You’re giggled again and then stumbled. You were about to take another drink from the champagne bottle when Elijah snatched it from you. “You know Rebekah I would think you would explore some sense knowing she’s human and doesn’t have the tolerance that you do.” You rolled your eyes. “Wiiiiiitch! Not human.” You poked Elijah in the chest. He didn’t seem as amused as Kol. He took a deep breath and steadied his patience. “Kol, Rebekah- leave us.” He demanded. Neither argued and quickly fled the room. You removed your silver strappy sandles knowing you were in for a lecture. “You know I never expected this kind of behavior from you. Drunkenly slurring your words and acting like a child. I expect more from you. This is absolutely juvenile. If this is how you are at parties then I can’t say I’ll be inviting you again. It’s a shame you can’t behave more like Elena.” Elijah didn’t expect you to whip around and slap him. He was more surprised than angry. He didn’t expect to see your eyes so filled with rage. “Screw you Elijah. I apologize for forgetting to ram a stick up my ass so I could keep up with you this evening.” He went to say something but stopped when he saw the look on your face. “For someone so intelligent you really are an idiot sometimes. I was having fun tonight Elijah. Fun. Getting along with your siblings. Laughing. Do you even know the last time I genuinely laughed and had a good time? Because I don’t!” You felt sobriety hitting you fast and hard. “When I met you, it was after stopping Katherine from killing more people I loved. Then it was trying to save Elena from Klaus and figure out how to reconcile loving you and saving her. Then Jenna died and Klaus didn’t. Then I had to watch him dagger you in front of my eyes and take Stefan on a murder binge. Fighting to save him and get you back. Not to mention all I lost prior to that. So how dare you judge me. Talk to me like I’m your damn child. I did NOTHING wrong. I wasn’t embarrassing. I even charmed Finn for Christ Sakes. Don’t you ever- EVER speak to me like that again. Loving you won’t stop me from making your brain drip out from your ears.” You tried to stalk away but he grabbed your arm and pulled you back. You felt your anger build. But his words disarmed you. “I love you too.” You looked at him like he was crazy, not realizing what you had admitted. “What?!” He realized that you probably hadn’t meant to admit that you loved him in your tirade. “You said that you loved me. Well you yelled it at me. But none the less you put it out there. And I want you to know that I love you too.” He watched as your fury started to burn out so he continued. “I’m sorry for what I said. Maybe it’s because I’m not very good at letting loose like that.” “Maybe you should try it sometime. Do the unexpected. Be a little reckless.” You saw a slight twinkle in his eye. “Okay.” Before you knew it he had you pinned to the wall, hands all over your body, kissing you. You felt his nose travel down the side of your neck and felt electricity travel to your core. He spun you around and eagerly undid your dress and let it fall to the ground. You stood there in nothing but a pair of black lace panties. When he turned you back around you slid off his jacket and undid his tie, then slowly unbuttoned his shirt. You had no idea when he had taken off his shoes and socks. He was kissing you again. As his lips trailed your neck you knew he was holding back. You didn’t want him to. There was something erotic about him feeding from you. “Do it Elijah. Don’t hold back.” ��No- I won’t hurt you.” You stared at his face, he was fighting back his fangs and the veins around his eyes. “Elijah I want you to. Please” you begged. That was all he needed to hear to not be able to control himself anymore. When you felt his teeth sink into your skin you moaned. In a flash you were on the bed. You whined slightly when he removed his teeth. He quickly finished undressing and slipped off your panties. He licked the blood off your neck. He was slightly amazed when you used your own magic to heal yourself. You were mesmerized by him as you enjoyed watching him care free and let loose with you. He brought you to peaks of extascy you didn’t know were possible. Deep down you knew as well as he did that there was another fight coming but he followed your lead and let it go just for that one night.

#TVD #TVD Imagine #Elijah Mikaelson #Elijah Mikaleson x Reader #Elijah x Reader #Klaus Mikaelson #Kol Mikaelson #Rebecca Mikaelson #Damon Salvatore #Elena Gilbert

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sleepysirenprincess · 6 years ago

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The unnatural pack 2018 chapter 1

Before we get started I want you guys to go ahead and get to know the characters a little bit, (you will get to know the backstory of the new characters soon!) Richie and Bill are werewolves, Eddie, Mike and Ben are vampires, Stans a warlock, Selah and Kiaha are banshees, Niklyn and Malia are fairies, Bev is a mix between a witch and a banshee and a secret character who is coming soon is a wendigo but don’t worry about him just yet. ALSO this is my first time writing a fanfiction sooo!! Couples: Eddie and Richie Stan and Beverly Bill and Malia Selah and Ben Niklyn and Mike Kiaha is single “Help me with these boxes!” Mike demands “ugh why do I have to be the one to help?” Ben complains, “because you're the strongest assbag, now stop complaining and grab a box” Mike chuckles, they place the boxes into the small pale colored empty living room where eddie and beverly were sitting on pillows, Eddie sat up when he heard the raspy voice of his boyfriend, jumping into his arms before planting a kiss right on his lips, “I love you but gosh rich, you smell like a dog” Eddie says jumping off his boyfriend with a fake disgusted look on his face , “oh shut up, you should be used to it considering you’ve been dating a werewolf for almost 2 years, and I love you too” Richie says playfully picking Eddie up and throwing him back onto Bev. “What's our plans for today?” Richie says while grabbing a bag of chips from the cabinet and sitting down beside his boyfriend, “nothing that I know of, just unpacking and moving stuff into place” Bev says “we’ve been doing that for the past 4 days, can’t we do something fun today? I mean c’mon Bev, Kia just turned 21 lets go to the bar! Please!?” richie begs with a mouth full of food “Are you sure you want to be taking your boyfriend to a bar where there are horny, filthy creatures? Ya really want that richard” Bev smirks Richie rolls his eyes at the word “Richard” he's always hated his name. “If anyone even thinks about touching him, they won't have a throat or hand to do anything!” Richie says with a protective growl. “Calm down alpha boy” Eddie wrapped his arms around his tense boyfriends neck, “l-lets go guys, its c-could be fun.” Bill says trying not to stutter “yes, we haven't been anywhere since we got here and it's kinda getting boring around here” Malia says while standing over Bills shoulder and kissing behind his ear. Bev annoyance subsides and finally gives in, “whatever bitches, lets go” earning a “yay” from everyone. They get to a pretty big bar in the middle of town well you could call it a club due to its size, the person at the front lets Beverly, Richie, Saleh, and Mike through, stopping at Kiaha “ID princess!” he says firmly, Eddie being her closest best friend pulls her close, “call her princess one more time and…” he gets cut off by Kia shushing him handing the buff guy her ID, he gives his head a quick flinch and lets her and Eddie in. asking for the others ID’s. they all sit in a booth type thing, before Richie even gets a chance to whistle at the bartender, Kiaha whistles “ hey hottie” at the extremely attractive waiter with dark brown hair, grey eyes, and olive skin, he comes to the table and seductively winks at her and says “what can I get for ya cutie?” Kiaha looks down and back up before speaking “ go ahead and get us as many shots as you can...and a side of you if that’s possible” he blushes but says “that can definitely be arranged” Kiaha was one to be seductive since she was the girl version of richie, besides having bright red hair and piercing yellow eyes which was rare due to her being a banshee. Everyone looked in shock with mouths wide open especially her sister Bev, “umm okay, damn Kia!” Eddie grins “seems like you've been hanging around Richie too much” Stan blurts out they all start laughing “and she isn't even drunk yet” Richie eyes her but its welcoming, “Kiaha next time why don't you go ahead and jump on the poor man” Malia cooes, “you should probably take it down a notch” Bev says with an annoyed face “why should I, i’m 21 now and single I don't see a problem in it” Kiaha defends “yea, c’mon Bevvy just let her be free for once.” before Beverly can say another word the two huge tray of shots were put in front of their faces. “There ya go sweets” the waitress smirks handing her a napkin that says “meet me in the back @8:45 I go on break then” and walking away. She looks at the group then the napkin then back up to the group eyes turning a glowing white lighting up the table and cheeks blushing a bright shade of red, “Kiaha your eyes, your eyes!” Eddie says concerned at someone seeing her, “fuck, sorry” Kiaha says nervously, they drink the shots and most are already pretty messed from so many shots but they order another round, once they finished that, the rest of the group are on the dance floor, and Kiaha sitting at the table alone looking anxiously at the clock, it strikes 8:44 and she sees the guy turn around the corner picking her up kissing her hard and sloppy, “GET IT, SLUT” Eddie yells from across the room whos dancing practically on top of Richie she just waves her hand at the comment. Bev looks at her with disapproval until bursting out laughing and resting her head on her sweet Stans shoulder, The two are completely indulged into each other, sweaty, slobber, moaning, thrashing, knocking things over, it was terrible honestly, Kiaha wasn't a virgin, and she hasn't been since the age of 16, her sister Beverly did NOT know about this even though they can't change the past she knew her older sister would be so disappointed in her and she couldn't bare the thought of that, lucky Richie was a good teacher and taught her how to lie straight to her sisters face she begin lying like it was her religion. Back out on the dance floor they were all over each other, not just Richie and Eddie but all of them while Kiaha was gone they got 2 more rounds of shots and were completely drunk out of their minds, Beverly casted a spell on the vampires allowing them to get drunk because without it they would only get a tiny bit tipsy due to their bodies healing so fast. Beverly was on Mike and Stan was on Richie, Eddie was on Selah and they were all huddled into a group alternating every so often, but when they go back to the couples it was like a sex club, kissing, grinding, moaning, touching it was worse than what was going on in the back. Once they all got to hot and needed a small break they go back to the boothe ordering yet another round of shots and glasses of water, being wasted at this point none of them knew where they were, or even who they were Kiaha had finally come back after almost an hour and half, her hair was mess, lips swollen and red, hickeys all over her neck and down her chest, “did you get into a fight with a wendigo?!” Richie asks smirking yet proud of who he had created,”you should see the other guy” she winks and slides in beside Niklyn. “wanna grab a smoke?” Nik asks and Bev nodded then asking Richie to join them he says “yes” moving Eddie off his lap, Eddie groans and pulls Richie back down, “baby, i’ll be right back stay there” Richie says softly kissing his boyfriend innocently on his soft brown locks, they move through the crowd and push the door open. Richie grabs the pack of menthol cigarettes from his pocket and offers one to each of the girls, Bev takes one and Niklyn immediately shakes her head and pulls out her own pack, “dont like menthols?” Beverly asks “nah, they hurt my lungs.” Nik says with the cig between her teeth, they stay smoking outside for a good 5-10 minutes just talking, Richie finishes last taking one more drag before flicking it into the concrete, “you’re gonna start a fire dickhead” Nik chuckles “I have a dickhead” Richie says winking at her “Ew gross Rich” they open the door and Richie notices someone trying to dance with his boy who is obviously pushing him away. Richie's blood boils at the sight, Bev notices immediately and takes Richie by the hand “hey don't freak out hun, its a bar everyone's all over everyone” Bev says with a stern yet comforting voice, Richie yanks his hand out of Bevs quickly as he sees the guy kiss Eddies neck, and Eddie moving forward back into Stan, Richies charging forward “EDDIE, GET RICHIE NOW!” Bevs screams since being a banshee the whole bar looks at her she's so loud it shakes the bar causing Richie to pause for a short moment. Eddie looks forward noticing his alphas anger from where he's standing, he tries running to him but Bill pulls him to the side saying “no Eddie, he’ll hurt you, he's not himself right now, his protective especially right before a change is coming up” Eddie tries to escape but there's no use Bill is stronger than Eddie and he knows this “I CAN'T JUST WATCH HIM BEAT THE LIVING HELL OUT OF THAT GUY BILL! LET GO!” Eddie growls, Richie already on top of the guy, Bill finally lets go, Eddies running over to Richie but as soon as he touches him Richie throws his hand back knocking Eddie out cold on the floor, RICHIE, NOW DAMNIT, LOOK WHAT YOU DID!!” Bev screech's causing Richie's ears to ring, stopping suddenly…there's a pause before Kiaha begins to cry saying ”Richie he wont wake up…” noticing the huge scratch on his arm.

#reddie #gay #supernatural #stanverly

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archivesdiveronarpg · 8 years ago

Photo

Congratulations, ERICA! You’ve been accepted for the role of NICK BOTTOM. Admin Bree: We had two fantastic applications for our Nikolai, but Erica, it was your interview and small details that ultimately tipped the scales. You captured his personality beautifully in his dialogue, as well as his little nuances such as his fidgeting, his complaint about his ass hurting, and his red car and motorcycle. I especially loved, “Cars screeched to a halt to admire his work. People screamed in awe at how fabulous the craftsmanship was. And best of all, he wasn’t dead” - you presented his eccentricity perfectly in three succinct lines. Congrats Erica - we can’t wait to have Nikolai on our dash! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

Out of Character

Alias | Erica

Age | 24

Preferred Pronouns | she/her

Activity Level | You guys pretty much know my activity. I work Monday-Friday and have weekends off, and my goal is normally to get at least one reply out through the week, even if I can’t always do that, then try to play catch up on the weekend.

Timezone | EST

Permission | Yup!

In Character

Character | NICK BOTTOM, Nikolai Borisov

What drew you to this character? | Beyond Sebastian Stan, the whole arsonist career was a big reason. It’s so different from what anyone else does, and I would be delighted to have the chance to be as creative with it as I’m sure Nikolai is. Another thing is he seems like he’d be so much fun to play, and I absolutely need someone like that to mess around with, to bring something upbeat to the table rather than someone so serious. He seems like quite an explosion on our saddened Verona and I’d love to strike the match.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? | One of the great things that I feel like I got from his bio is that he doesn’t seem to have a master plan he’s trying to achieve, beyond setting the city aflame, basically, and perfecting his craft as best he can. He isn’t trying to take over an empire, nor is he trying to save one, so I feel like a lot of his development, good or bad, will be strictly to mess with him specifically. Some ideas that aren’t set in stone at the moment are:

LOONEY TUNES | You will never be able to convince me that Pavel isn’t the roadrunner to Nikolai’s coyote, meep meeping his ass into the sunset while Nikolai gets burned with his Acme products. I just want to see how his relationship with Pavel progresses, or anyone else who has the rare opportunity to get on his bad side (seeing as I don’t think he really has one normally.) It definitely sounds like it could be a good time and I insist there be lots of these two in particular, but just lots of shenanigans in general, to be honest.

YOU KNOW YOU’RE IN A WARZONE, RIGHT? | As was demonstrated by the colosseum upset, all three sides could have a use for Nik’s particular talents, even though he doesn’t really have much interest in any of them. But with his streak of falling in with the wrong crowd, it’s hard to tell which way he might be pulled toward, who might sway him or appreciate his work the most. I’d like to see how he fares in this feud that just keeps getting bigger.

DUDE, WHERE DID YOU EVEN COME FROM? | I don’t think Nikolai thinks about his past much, and I don’t think he’d know how to answer anyone if they asked about it. How did he get this way? Was he born from hellfire, spreading across the world like a plague/cure, depending on whom you asked? I want to dive deeper into this son of a blacksmith and lady of the night, and how that affects who he is now.

In Depth

The following THREE questions must be answered in-character, and in para form (quotations, actions written out if applicable, etc). There is no minimum or maximum limit for your response - simply answer as you would were you playing the character.

What is your favorite place in Verona?

Nik’s leg bounced up and down with a jittery energy as he thought. “The streets,” he said, nodding as he considered it more. “Yeah, definitely the streets. Where you feel like you can go anywhere you want? Go as far as you want for as long as you want? You’ve got the wind against your helmet as your motorcycle flies past the people stuck at home. Yeah…good times.” He slapped out a beat on his thighs that was surprisingly not a mess, despite the quickness of his hands and the distant look on his face. It was hard to tell if he was even paying attention anymore until he spoke again. “Is that the only question?”

What does your typical day look like?

Nikolai smiled, his fingers flicking a lighter on and off. The flame was dangerously close to his jacket, but he didn’t seem to notice. “I don’t know. It always changes.” He probably went through three different sitting positions before he answered again, his lighter gone and back in his pocket. It was hard to tell where it went with the way his hands moved everywhere at once. “I get up, I go out…I stay out.” Nikolai opened his mouth, closed it with a thoughtful expression. Then a light bulb seemed to go off and it was open again, words spilling out in a rush. “You know what I like to do? I like to drive. Have you seen my car over there?” he asked, pointing to a bright red sports car. “That thing flies. I go between it and the bike, drive them around and see what there is to get into.” He rubbed the back of his neck, tapping out another beat, this time with his heel. “Now we’ve gotta be done with questions, right?” His brows furrowed at the accusation of being in a hurry to get somewhere. “No, my ass just hurts from sitting so long. Doesn’t yours?”

What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?

It was the first time Nikolai laughed during the interview, and hopefully it was the last. The startling sound came from nowhere, and died just as abruptly, leaving a smile behind as he shook his head. “It’s fucking entertaining is what it is. I mean, you’re telling me these guys are still uptight over something that happened eons ago?” He paused, seemed to think it over. He frowned. “I guess I can see why they’d hold a grudge. Sometimes someone just gets under your skin and…” he stopped, squeezed his hand into a fist like the annoyance was there to feel his grip. Eventually he released his hold on the phantom and waved his hand as if to say never mind. “But that’s besides the point. The point is: I don’t really give a shit.” Nikolai shrugged. “We all know—“ He stopped, laughed that unsettling laugh like he had a secret no one else could know. “We all know they’re gonna turn the city to shit, but it’ll rise. Like a phoenix from the ashes, it’ll rise, and goddamn, it’ll be beautiful.”

In-Character Para Sample:

It’s a bit chilly out. Why don’t we heat things up?

No, no, scratch that.

Wait until his chestnuts roast on an open fire.

What the shit, it’s not even fucking Christmas.

Nikolai groaned, connecting the last wire so that his detonator would actually fucking work this time (last time’s attempt resulted in him almost getting a new haircut.) The faint sound of Buster Poindexter’s Hot, Hot, Hot played through his earbuds, his iPod snug in his pant’s pocket while he meticulously worked on his latest creation. If all went as planned – and it damn well better – the rigging would set the whole ten story building crackling in under a minute.

How, you might ask, Nik thought as he gathered his materials and made sure not to leave any evidence behind. Why, that’s simple. Because I’m a fucking genius, that’s how.

Sucking down his third juice box, he strolled through the building’s basement like it was just another day. Well, mostly, it was just another day. This was his fourth outing in St. Petersburg this month, and a lot more fun than the first three that consisted of burning an empty grocery store, making sure some poor sucker couldn’t drive anywhere, and lighting up a church full of poorly dressed sinners. But this time…he thought he might’ve outdone himself. A ten-story building that belonged to some curmudgeon he could’ve cared less about? It was the perfect testing ground for such experiments, for such masterpieces.

He only went as far as he had to, the bare minimum to keep from getting blasted (the explosion should mostly be internal, if he didn’t account for shattered glass, and go up, not outward, which would hopefully allow for him to be closer.) That was the plan, of course, but this shit always had a way of backfiring.

Ha.

Nik pushed the sunglasses down from the top of his head so that everything was covered in a partial darkness. Just a couple more minutes, and he’d be able to smell the smoke, feel the wave of heat that came barreling toward him. It was quiet except for the sound of cars honking and driving down the street. The flap of birds’ wings as they flew away, sensed a storm coming. The slurp of Nik’s juice box as he sucked up the last of his drink.

5…4…3…2…

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

Like a down-on-their-luck musician, it started from the bottom and rose to the top, glass glittering down like rain as the explosives went off, one after the other. Cars screeched to a halt to admire his work. People screamed in awe at how fabulous the craftsmanship was. And best of all, he wasn’t dead.

Taking a deep breath, and one last moment to appreciate his latest success, he nodded and turned to leave.

Nik made his way through hidden alleyways and abandoned streets to get back to his car, parked far from the crime scene after his last close call with the police. It was tough to drive fancy cars and be a fireman. It made it all too easy to find him sometimes.

A fact he remembered quickly when he saw someone standing by his car.

But they weren’t dressed in the normal uniform he was expecting to run from. No, she was dressed in expensive furs to keep the chill away, hair done up all fancy like she was going to a ball. She stood at attention as Nik walked to his car, a bag full of questionable items in his hand. She hardly paid attention, bright green eyes glued to him, nervous as she tugged her coat tighter.

“Borisov?”

“Maybe,” he said, eyeing her since he had the cover of sunglasses to cover his scrutiny. “Who wants to know?”

Who wanted to know? Well, in that moment, with that very transaction, Nikolai Borisov’s first paying client exploded onto the scene.

And that’s how you do that.

Extras: I have a mock blog for him at totallynotajackass, where I’ve put some graphics and reblogged some things. As for further headcanons:

Cars/Motorcycle – I definitely see him with a motorcycle that he likes to drive everywhere, and I absolutely see him as someone who enjoys the thrill of street racing. Nice cars that go really, really fast? That have engines where it sounds like they roar to life and screech against the street? Nikolai is definitely into death defying stunts, and what better way to get his heart pumping than speeding down Verona’s streets at night against some of the fastest drivers out there?

Drums – probably not a surprise, but he was never taught to play anything like the piano, and he sure as hell never bothered learning. But the drums gave him an outlet for his constantly moving hands and feet. Turned out he wasn’t horrible at keeping a rhythm either.

Burns/Scars – also not a surprise but I see him with burns everywhere. A lot on his back where he’s tried to get away from ones that went astray and didn’t get to walk away like a cool action movie star. Who needs tattoos when your body is littered with striking remembrances of your creations?

#accepted #accepted: nick bottom

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