Drunk Moxxie Novels & Stories

Michelle I've had too many drinks and shots. I'm dizzy, but like, not nauseous. It's more like I won't stop smiling. I feel funny. I think I'm giggling; I'm not a hundred percent sure. Maddox is drunk too and leads me into his bedroom. His friends have all passed out inside the frat house. There is a comfortable silence, and I happily walk over to his bed. I smile at his skull covers while shedding my clothes on the floor.

she yelled back, laughing as she ran. "I’ll slaughter you like a guinea pig if you show your face again!" he bellowed, shaking his fist at the sky before heading back inside, muttering, "What’s with that girl?" He couldn’t help but chuckle. Bisila walked down the street, still grinning. She reached into her pocket, feeling the freshly earned payment. Up ahead, a bar came into view, its large sign glowing: **DONNIE AND THE BAR.** Inside, a few men sat scattered around with drinks, talking loudly. One of them noticed her at the door.

They agreed to have one drink and leave, but Maddox was refilling glasses for the third time, and the heat was melting Drake's patience that was already thin because he was away from Talia. The liquor was so bad that Drake pretended to drink and that says a lot because Drake can drink almost anything. "This is the last one." Maddox downed his drink, and he narrowed his eyes at Drake's full glass. "Why are you not having that?" Drake made a face. How on earth can Maddox drink this horrible thing and pretend that it's fine? Or did his taste buds die? Or maybe he is just suicidal. "I don't want to die of poisoning.", Drake said and pushed his glass away.

"She faints at the sight of blood. How could she possibly hold a scalpel?" As if to spite me, he deliberately drank a lot more alcohol. Marcus had never been much of a drinker, and after finishing an entire bottle, there was no way he could perform surgery tomorrow. Just then, my aunt, who was caring for my mom, called. "Claire, something terrible has happened. Your mother has gotten worse..." "Aunt Jane, wait for me. I'm coming right over..." Aunt Jane's crying made everything go blank. Marcus, despite all the alcohol, went pale too. He reached for me but lost his balance, crashing into Hannah instead. Their lips collided.

His vision is a blur, everything is spinning around him, his head throbs, and his breathing comes out ragged and heavy while the veins in his wrists throb so violently, like something is pushing its way out. He lets out a loud, pained groan as veins stretch on his neck and temple. He knocks down everything that he stumbles into, throwing over chairs and tables to get them out of his way. He stumbles towards his bed and grabs the box of suppressants. He yanks it open, and his heart drops to his stomach as he realizes there’s only one bottle left. No. How can he continue to live in Ashbourne without them? How will he survive without them?

Ignoring the possibility that maybe the stressors of life had finally made me crack, I was pretty damn sure I wasn't the type of girl to hallucinate. I didn't drink any of the offers men had tried to give me before my last set, and I was laying off smoking Irrwurz because it was just too expensive a habit of keeping. And, if Drunko's drink had been laced with something strong enough to affect me through my eyes—like Concubus' Kiss or drider venom—then he would have overdosed long before he'd gotten belligerent. So, no to being drugged then...

Not even one, so knowing that an Alpha was looking out for me was too much for me and I couldn't quite take it. My eyes returned to the black witch in front of me when she spoke again. "As I said, we've been looking for you for months, it started when the intoxicating fragrance of Moon Drip once reached Alpha Baristo. He immediately ordered his wolves to find where it came from but we were disappointed because the smell suddenly disappeared. But Alpha Baristo was so persistent, so he mobilized even us witches to help in the search. And we were not mistaken that we could find you here. The Cohen who possesses the Moon Drip— the sacred power of the blue moon."

“That almost sounded like respect.” “Don't get dramatic.” I laughed softly under my breath despite myself. Jesus fucking Christ. A few months ago, if someone told me I'd be sitting in a kitchen at midnight laughing quietly with Raffaele Morretti over criminal records and whisky, I would've assumed they were insane. Now it felt normal. That terrified me more than anything else. Raffaele reached past me for the glass sitting near the sink, his arm brushing slightly against mine in the process. The contact was brief, accidental probably, but my body noticed it immediately anyway.

Prologue: Decompensation In Desolation The Men's Restroom, Unknown Pub, Unknown Location, Outskirts Of Wakefield... One drink seemed to be all it took to make the world of a rather optimistic and cheery young man go from a happy-go-lucky bliss to a downward spiral of agony in the wake of his body attempting to expel what was believed to have been poison as his perception changed rather drastically in the wake of the terror that filled him. Just one drink, from a local pub where the bartender seemed to be on the payroll of a group of odd thugs that frequented the place. He'd been a rather charming old man, the spiking of the younger lad's drink notwithstanding, as he set about wiping down the

I muttered under my breath. Tina grabbed three glasses from the cabinet, and we followed Norman. With a loud shout, he popped the bottle completely and poured the pale liquid into our glasses. I slumped onto the couch, my eyes locked securely on the front door. I silently prayed that we could finish our drinks and move up to my bedroom before Maddox showed up. He barely even came home every day anyway, so today had to be one of his days off. God, please just give me this one night.