Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/13770633. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No_Archive_Warnings_Apply, Underage Category: F/F Fandom: Wynonna_Earp_(TV) Relationship: Waverly_Earp/Nicole_Haught, Waverly_Earp/Champ_Hardy, Minor_or_Background Relationship(s), Wynonna_Earp_&_Nicole_Haught Character: Waverly_Earp, Nicole_Haught, Wynonna_Earp, Doc_Holliday_(Wynonna_Earp), Xavier_Dolls, Champ_Hardy, Wyatt_Earp, Willa_Earp, Bobo_Del_Rey_|_Robert Svane, Chrissy_Nedley, Jeremy_Chetri, Stephanie_Jones Additional Tags: Alternate_Universe_-_Modern_Setting, Alternate_Universe_-_No_Curse, Alternate_Universe_-_High_School, Alternate_Universe_-_Rock_Band, Cheerleader_Waverly_Earp, Lead_Singer_Wynonna_Earp, Bassist_Wynonna_Earp, Guitarist_Nicole_Haught, Songwriter_Nicole_Haught, Drummer_Xavier_Dolls, Keyboardist_Doc_Holliday, Alpha/Beta/Omega_Dynamics, Rutting, Mating Cycles/In_Heat, Alpha_Nicole_Haught, Alpha_Purebred_Nicole_Haught, Omega Waverly_Earp, Alpha_Wynonna_Earp, Beta_Xavier_Dolls, Omega_Doc_Holliday, Curtis_McCready_is_Alive, Ward_Earp_is_Alive, Ward_Earp_is_a_Good_Father, Wynonna_Earp_&_Nicole_Haught_Bromance, John_Henry_and_Doc_Holliday_Are Two_Different_Characters, Bobo_Del_Rey_and_Robert_Svane_Are_Two_Different Characters, Sex_Drugs_and_Rock_and_Roll, Wyatt_Earp_is_Their_Cousin, Recreational_Drug_Use, Underage_Drinking, Underage_Sex, Underage_Drug Use, Implied/Referenced_Character_Death, Implied/Referenced_Depression, Worldbuilding, lots_of_worldbuilding, All_the_Characters_are_Deeply Flawed, Champ_Hardy_is_a_Good_Boyfriend, frenemies_to_lovers, Teenagers are_Irrational_and_Highly_Dramatic, Loss_of_Virginity, Eventual_Smut, Platonic_Wynonna_Earp/Nicole_Haught Series: Part 1 of Hit_This_Hard Collections: Vodkabite's_Wayhaught_A/B/O_Verse Stats: Published: 2018-03-19 Updated: 2018-03-28 Chapters: 2/? Words: 3155 ****** Like A Rockstar ****** by vodkabite Summary In which Waverly Earp and Nicole Haught are a pair of highly irrational and overly dramatic teenagers making incredibly flawed decisions that ultimately bring them together to form the most unlikely pair imaginable. Not a bad way to start the year, or is it? Notes Been a long time coming this one, but now that it's here, I hope you guys enjoy this. I would also like to stress that everyone is a teenager here which means that they are bound to do and say stupid things. Just as the summary states, they are highly irrational and overly dramatic. Story inspired Post Malone's "Rockstar_(ft._21_Savage)", and Sofia Karlberg's version. ***** Intro (Part 1) *****   The scene is set. One that is repeated in bedrooms and basements across the world. But this isn’t some musty basement where the tabletop is situated between a worn-out couch and a small television that has seen some better days, or some preteen’s bedroom in an effort to divulge long held secrets and steal their first kiss like some teen flick from the 80s, Africa by Toto playing softly in the background; this is Purgatory and the bottle slowly coming to a stop did not ounce contain an ounce of soda, but Merlot. Cheap, supermarket brand. The kind that leaves a horrible aftertaste that can only be washed down with several shots of mouthwash, or to continuously drink the bottle and get used to the flavor. Alas, the kids did no such thing. Taking to dumping out the entire bottle down the kitchen drain after the first unlucky soul was brave enough to take a sip and in turn scrunched up his face. From her position, off to the corner near the kitchen where a person is serving up body shots to the cheers of a crowd, Waverly Earp watches the rowdy group in the middle of the living room with abject curiosity. And a slight twinge of confusion and annoyance. She rarely made a habit of watching her sister and her less than reputable friends, but tonight they were in their element—at the center of the drunken haze of a party where the alcohol continuously flows like water and the smell of weed and god knows what else saturates the air—she had to take advantage. She talks amicably with Chrissy Nedley about some of the new routines Coach Johnson wanted them to do for the upcoming competition. Jeremy Chetri chiming in occasionally with simple observations, because while he spent his Tuesday afternoons on the bleachers watching his friends practice, no one can deny that his focus would be consumed by his crush Ambrose Fish doing cartwheels. The blush on his cheeks giving him away whenever he tried to deny it. The conversation shifts to one about the Science Club already planning to host several bake sales in an effort to save up enough for a trip to the Canadian Air and Space Museum in Toronto. Now usually Waverly wouldn’t be so distracted, but lately her attention is pulled towards her sister and her friends; where they playfully nudge and shove each other, enrapturing the other party guests whenever they would break out into an impromptu song and sing. The air around them is cloudy, thicker than the smell of cigarettes hanging in the air. They share a rolled-up joint amongst themselves, separating themselves from the rest who simply watch in awe. As if it was 1984 and they were a group of highly revered celebrities, exuding a sense of cool that turns everyone into rabid fans; something to be worshipped and imitated. Waverly imagines that the blunt is laced with something a little stronger than marijuana. Flavored even. She wouldn’t put it passed them. But they’re relatively sober tonight. They’re being good. She watches as the bottle stops on Doc Holliday, Purgatory’s very own wavy- haired, blue-eyed gentleman and the dark-skinned beta next to him kiss. Chaste, hardly a kiss at all and they both groan while the tiniest blush colors their cheeks, it’s adorable. Her sister, Wynonna, however boos and demands a redo at which she receives a throw pillow to the face. All smiles and laughs; the perfect picture of normal seventeen-year-olds. Wrapped up in their own little bubble of fun and games. They have an easy rapport with each other, hard not to see it when they’ve all been inseparable since birth. A pack of rowdy troublemakers, who found pleasure in wreaking havoc and being the center of attention. Just simple kids with their whole lives ahead of them. Before drinking and smoking on the weekends became a regular ritual for them. Before the occasional visits to Yiska’s tattoo parlor, inking their skin with mark after permanent mark. Waverly can still remember the fit of rage their father went into when Wynonna came home with a lotus flower covering her entire left arm. Face red and foaming at the mouth, he couldn’t look at his middle child for an entire week without going into a tirade about the tattoo. He got over it eventually, especially when Wynonna came back with more, her latest: a massive revolver over her ribcage, going down her side and over her hip with the word Peacemaker written underneath the barrel. Whenever her alpha sister walks around the house in oversized tank tops, the eldest of the Earp girls, Willa, makes it a point to tell her how stupid the gun tattoo is. They get into an argument over it, throwing insults and hurling objects at each other. It still is a stupid tattoo. The first of many on her sister’s skin. But she isn’t the only one in her little group of friends with marks inked into their skin. Doc Holliday, a theatre nerd who could easily recite the entire first two acts of Shakespeare’s Macbeth at a moment’s notice without misquoting a single line. Charming and unbelievably easy to talk to. Compassionate as well, despite being branded as a man whore. His hair is usually tied into a messy bun at the top of his head, only letting his hair down for special occasions. And like the others, the omega sports an impressive number of tattoos for a seventeen-year- old. Arms covered entirely with random things like skulls, crosses, tribal symbols, cartoon sound effects, playing cards, a pocket watch and a set of gears and a large rose covering the back of his right hand—there’s even a cowboy hat on his collarbone with the numbers 08.15.17, that the boy is particularly proud and protective of. Beside him is Xavier Dolls, a usually stoic beta who easily intimidates others at first glance with his tall stature and muscle. He’s doesn’t like to talk a lot, and yet he has a very expressive face. Unlike the others, the only tattoo Dolls owns is that of a dragon flower tattoo on his right shoulder blade with his mother’s name forming the stem. There’s sentimental value in it and Waverly can understand this. It means something unlike the mess of things the rest of them having inked into their skin. It’s also why he pushes himself in school and exercises regularly. Had the band not found their success through online platforms like SoundCloud and YouTube, he would’ve been on his way to join the army or be a police officer like his parents before him. This leaves only one person: Nicole Haught. With her silk shirts, rings and that ridiculous red leather jacket, Nicole looks like the poster child for rich kids with too much money. Always smiling that dimpled smile, highlighted by the silver lip ring. Matched only by the barbell adorning her left eyebrow and the tongue ring only ever brought out for show. Or sex. Tattoos of seven phases of the moon running down the length of one bicep, several intricate tribal bands wrapped around her forearm several inches down. A softened version of her family’s crest etched into the center of her upper back and a cross tattoo where a beauty mark beneath her left eye used to be—a tattoo shared with Wynonna who wears hers underneath the right. Much like the rest of the band, the alpha is a living cautionary tale about excess money with easy access to one too many things. Waverly doesn’t understand how those bright, honey-golden eyes and their dark gaze draw in girls eager to be the object of her affections. Even if just for a single night. Nicole’s eyes flicker towards her and their gazes suddenly lock together, broken only when the alpha winks and Waverly rolls her eyes and cuts the link. Returning her full attention to Chrissy and Jeremy. “We’re planning early so by spring there’s enough money to head to Toronto. If not there’s always Calgary.” Jeremy says, with hope. “Cheers to a new, and hopefully, a better school year,” Chrissy raises her plastic red cup with the white rim and both omegas do the same. Beside Waverly, Wyatt takes a sip before clinking his cup against hers. “Cheers.” ***** Intro (Part 2) ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes   It’s a fun game, she thinks. Smiling, laughing, wrestling with Wynonna over the last puff before the blunt is left as nothing more than an empty nub, only to lose it to Dolls who quietly snatches it away. Nicole takes a sip of her beer, then reaches down and spins the bottle. Her eyes follow the bottle and really, the odds of kissing someone she doesn’t like is non-existent. Dolls is tentative; slow and easy. Doc is soft; a die- hard romantic who always kisses like it’s the first time. Wynonna is firm, familiar, biting when she wants to be a cheeky little shit. But as the bottle slows, her eyes flicker momentarily to the chestnut-haired omega by the kitchen entrance. She feels a stab of guilt when the brunette is suddenly enveloped in her darling boyfriend’s arms, and then returns her gaze resolutely to the bottle. She’s Champ’s, the alpha reminds herself. Always has been. That’s why she, Nicole Haught, shouldn’t be thinking of her best friend’s baby sister that way. But she does anyway, because really? Even despite herself and her feelings towards their relationship, anyone else would be a better fit. Still… Beyond her own ego, she wonders what it’d be like. Having the brunette sitting in on the game, being a part of it, the bottle slowing to stop and if she were the slightest bit lucky… But no. That’s a fever dream. And the bottle is pointing squarely at Dolls. He blushes, despite his face not giving anything away. At least it isn’t Wynonna again. The dark-haired alpha having purposely ate her weight in French onion dipped potato chips, just to annoy her. He crawls across the circle towards her, and much like the well-mannered boy that he is, comes forward to meet her. As he does, Nicole straightens up and over his shoulder, sees Waverly alone with her perfect little boyfriend. It spurs something in her. Something that has her caressing the beta’s cheek and keeping him close. The kiss going on longer than a simple five second peck. “Save the fire for later, Haughtshit.” Wynonna grabs onto the hem of Nicole’s jacket, “If tonight doesn’t promise anything, I’m taking you home with me.” Separating, she notices something in Dolls’ dark brown eyes. Reflecting pools that have her silently apologizing for doing such a thing. Without a single word, or the barest hint of it, he accepts it; a small, non-committal grunt. Sitting back down, Nicole takes another sip of her beer. Harder this time. More than what her tastebuds could handle. She’s not a beer kind of gal, she prefers something with a little more substance. Mixed drinks, flavored ones, wine, champagne—admittedly her tastes are sweet as they are expensive. Then again, it is a high school party. A Back to School Bash, to welcome in the new year. Trèsboring, but she couldn't really turn down Stephanie Jones’ invitation. The beta is a good person even with all the bitchiness, and on that same note, Wynonna had RSVP'd her beforehand. Not attending was in poor taste and the alpha had been raised with manners. Keep your elbows off the table, place a napkin on your lap when dining out, always leave a tip no matter how horrendous the service was, be cordial to all walks of life (especially the ones you despise) and if you RSVP'd to a party, attend. Save your lame excuses like the dog got run over or an estranged relative you never knew existed died and now you've been enlisted to say the eulogy, for more important things. Unfortunately, she didn’t count on Wynonna putting words in her mouth. She would’ve used the dead relative excuse for this one—on the other side of the living room she spots Waverly and Champ standing together near the sliding patio doors; kissing—oh yeah, definitely could have used a dead relative. It’s not that Nicole hates Champ James Hardy. He’s a… He’s just a… Okay, he’s a pretty good guy in small doses. But he isn’t Nicole’s favorite person in the world, finding his golden boy-like persona an incredibly hard pill to swallow. The beta’s relatively happy disposition is nauseating, the sight of him during school hours and those godawful pep rallies grating on her retinas just as it did whenever she visited Whitewater Country Club because by the grace of God, he’s there too! If she could, she would run him over and be done with it. But no, the alpha has to make do that they are worlds apart while being within twenty feet of each other. Champ may draw on Nicole’s ire the same way a gnat buzzing against her ear would irritate her into madness, the cheap can of beer in her hands now warm and tasteless on her tongue, or the sheer boredom she felt during school that would either have her praying for a quick and painless death or skipping out to pass time on the roof; there is only one thing, one person who’s mere existence has become the bane of her own. Waverly Earp. Prim and proper, as co-captain of Purgatory High’s cheerleading squad everything about the omega had to be perfect. From the way she neatly rearranges her skirt and smooths the curls under her headband to how she attaches herself to Champ’s side. Inwardly, Nicole sneers. Pulled back to the empty bottle of Merlot spinning out of center in front of her feet, Wynonna’s fingers snapping for attention in her face. “Hey, you holding out on me?” The dark-haired alpha asks, “Not cool bro, I wanna space out too.” “When are you not?” Dolls adds, and Doc erupts into laughter, almost spilling his beer, before receiving a punch to the shoulder. “Ow! Hit him, why me?” “Because Dolls is special, you’re an asshole.” Wynonna bites, before grumbling about having to spin the bottle again, “Laugh one more time and I’ll shave your mustache—hey now, pucker up for daddy, Haught!” Nicole shakes her head. “No way, your breath still smells like French onion dip and I’m not putting myself through that hell again.” “You love it.” Wynonna declares, “Gives your palette variety compared to all that hoity toity shit you like.” Nicole rolls her eyes and that’s when she spots Stephanie Jones talking with the Gardner sisters, thus accidentally making eye contact which for some reason gives the beach blonde beta a reason to come over. She does, sauntering over with all the practiced ease of someone far older than her seventeen years, equally wearing an impossibly short skirt that left little to the imagination. Then again, when Purgatory High’s cheerleading co-captain had garnered a bit of a reputation for spending more time on her knees than cartwheeling, what really isthere to imagine? Stephanie stands besides Nicole, hand on the headrest of the loveseat the alpha made her own, a little too close for comfort. The band had created barriers to separate themselves from the rest of the dead and chaotic brood of students they cohabitated their teenaged years with, close contact only being formed if they allowed it. And with the disgusted look on Waverly’s face, Nicole does one better: pulling Stephanie to sit on her lap. There’s a drunken giggle and from the other side of the room, the alpha hears the sucking of teeth. “We’re in the middle of a game here.” “Carry on, I’ll just watch.” Wynonna shakes her head, “Fat chance Barbie, I gotta kiss Haughtshit over here and there’s no way in hell I’m doing that with you near. I could catch something.” “Wynonna be nice.” Doc places a calming hand on the dark-haired alpha’s shoulder but the bad blood between those two went further back than he could work with. “It’s alright Doc, Wynonna doesn’t know how to be civil.” There’s bite to Stephanie’s words before it softens when she turns towards Nicole, “I can definitely take over.” Nicole looks to Wynonna for confirmation only to receive a scoff and a casual shrug of the shoulders. Taking that as a yes, Nicole cups Stephanie’s chin and brings her close for a quick kiss. The beta’s lips are soft, mouth insistent against hers and just as Nicole begins to pull away is when Stephanie urges her to stay with a hand on the back of her head. But for a single moment, the rest of the world falls away; the alcohol roaming through her veins pushing towards the forefront, the blonde’s face fades, faceless, the only thing Nicole registers is the solid weight of someone sitting on her lap. Tongue slipping between her lips and the taste of cheap beer, champagne and cloves fills her mouth. It doesn’t last though; high ending quickly as it started, and Nicole pulls away. Dolls remains unfazed, sipping from his half empty can, Doc tilts his cowboy hat in approval and Wynonna makes an ungodly hacking sound—“you are so not touching me without washing your mouth first”, to which Nicole quickly replies, “same to you, you fucking heathen,”—and from where she sits with Champ and Levi, Waverly… turns away. On the other side of her, half standing and half leaning on the armrest, Wyatt shakes his head. Dark blue eyes usually alight with mischief are now somber, almost colorless with disappointment. Nicole feels a bit lightheaded. “You could do so much better, but you already knew that.” Nicole stares at him, trying to figure him out. “You don’t even like blondes. What was your rule again, the brighter the hair the dumber they are?” Wyatt laughs, “Fitting really.” Then, Nicole catches the faded remnants of another round of insults hurled between Wynonna and Stephanie. Coming back into focus, she’s suddenly in the limelight with everyone staring at her. Dolls is typically shrugging his shoulders, neutral; Doc is trying to mouth out something to give her a heads up but the omega is immediately downed with a growl; thus leaving Wynonna glaring at her and Stephanie giving her that wink. “Uh huh.” It’s not much but those two simple words, along with the proper inflection, have saved the alpha from many disasters that needed her undivided attention while her mind was elsewhere. This being no different when her best friend throws her hands up into the air in triumph while Stephanie huffs. “Party’s over shitheads,” the dark-haired alpha announces shooting up into the air and pulling Nicole with her. “You’re coming home with me.” “Okay,” Nicole murmurs, suddenly tired. Letting herself be dragged out of the beta’s house. Chapter End Notes This chapter was mainly to showcase the band's relationship and an insight into Nicole's feelings towards Waverly. But now that the Intro is finally over, we can finally get into the nit and gritty of our favorite pair. Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!