18# Practice Makes Masters.

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Mick Thomson X Reader.

Summary: Mick and (Y/n) play video games together. Mick let's them win a round because they suck at the game. 

(A/n): I had this one in my mind for a long time. And there had to be a Mick one come on.

Also quick warning : It's really bad and i'm not proud of this one.

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"damn... You win, again." (Y/n) complains as the guitarist wins another round.
He smirks with pride.
"I'm simply better than you with this." he says, proud to win from (Y/n) once again. 
(Y/n) pouts childishly, "this game is rigged." They say, blaming the game for their failure in it. 
Mick chuckles, "Perhaps you should play it more often, practice makes masters." He claims, using that one phrase that he always uses. Right now that phrase isn't really helping. 
(Y/n) sighs and shakes their head, "i don't have this game at home." 

"there you have it. that's the problem." he confirms, leaning back in the cushions of the couch he's sitting on. 
"mph..." (Y/n) huffs out, leaning their head in their hand, their elbow is resting on their knees. They run a hand through their hair, smoothing it out. They look at the screen in frustration. This game isn't fun anymore. Mick has beaten them every single time. And Mick is boasting about this victories. 

"aww, (Y/n)." The guitarist cooes, reaching over and roughly petting their head, ruffling up their hair pretty good. (Y/n) groans and swats his hand away, fixing up their hair to it's original style. 
"damn you Thomson." (Y/n) still feels upset about the whole thing. They can handle losing, but (Y/n) can't count how many times they have lost the game and it's bruising their ego quite a lot. 

"should you be with your band?" (Y/n) asks, the question seemingly coming out of nowhere. Or they are trying to distract themselves with a change of subject. A pretty rough subject at that.
Mick scoffs, "all they do is party, get drunk and shoot up drugs. I don't have to be a part of it if i don't want to." Mick's got a point there. He doesn't have to do everything with the band, if there is certain things he doesn't want to do he's free to say no to it. "Yeah. you're right." (Y/n) sighs, looking away from the screen, and not willing to meet eye with the guitarist. 

Mick is watching (Y/n) from where he's sitting, and sees the upset look in their face. That look makes him feel a little bad. It's only partly his fault, he's played this game many times and (Y/n) has only played this game today. 
He should have gone easy on them. 

"(Y/n), why don't you try it one more time." Mick suggests, making (Y/n) look at him with annoyance. 
"are you kidding me Mick, i clearly lost!" (Y/n) argues, gesturing to the screen. 
"oh come on, one more time. Practice makes masters." He repeats the phrase, holding up the controller and shaking it. 
(Y/n) merely stares at him, squinting their eyes in suspicion. What if Mick is being shifty and trying to embarrass them? Embarrass them to who, it's just him and them here. 

"ugh, fine." (Y/n) agrees reluctantly, taking their own controller back and Mick starts the game up again. He takes one side-glance at (Y/n), grinning a little. He for sure knows that (Y/n) is going to have a whole different reaction once the next round is over. 

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"ah, YES! YES! I win!! Fuck yeah!! HaHaHa!!" (Y/n) jumps off the couch in sheer joy. Mick drops the controller on his lap and pretending defeat. 
Little that (Y/n) know that he let them win this time. Just to make (Y/n) feel good. And hopefully (Y/n) is too happy with their victory to notice that the guitarist let them win this time. 
"you beat me now, see? What did i tell you?" Mick says, grinning at them. 
"yeah, yeah... practice makes masters." (Y/n) says the phrase. A phrase that Mick always tell them when they feel like giving up. 
that phrase... 'Practice makes masters' (Y/n) has adopted that phrase by now. 

"well, i'm done playing now. Want something to drink?" Mick asks while he stands up and stretches his back out. 
"Just a coke please." (Y/n) replies, still giddy about their victory. 
Mick leaves to get the two a drink after a full 3 hours of gaming. 

As Mick is gone, (Y/n) turns off the screen, all this gaming has made their eyes feel sore and it's unpleasant. They sigh and lean back in the couch, the hype of their victory settling down. 

Mick quickly returns into the room with two glasses filled with cola. One glass in each hand. 
He then hands one glass to (Y/n) and settles down next to them. The two take a big gulp of their respective drinks simultaneously. 
"Ah..." (Y/n) sighs, the big glass of the sugary beverage is refreshing. A hum rumbles in the back of the guitarist's throat, also content with his own cold drink.
"You turned it off?" He comments as he sees that the TV is turned off.
"Yeah, i'm satisfied man. i don't want to play that again." (Y/n) complains dramatically, sinking into the couch, taking another sip of their drink.
(Y/n)'s comment makes Mick let out a low chuckle. 

The two sit there on a comfortable silence. Enjoying said silence after a long time of gaming. 
And (Y/n) doesn't feel like gaming for the rest of the day. 

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FUCK!! It's so bad. *cringe*. 

Thanks for reading.
- Missalot.

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