Nope, Not Even Close!

by RunicTreetops

Rating: teen
Tags: Sex, Vapor Trail, Spitfire, Profanity, Sky Stinger, Slice of Life, Human, Anon, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Soarin, Comedy, Romance
Length: 1474

Sky Stinger and Vapor Trail want to know what Spitfire's old Wonderbolt nickname was. Spitfire tells them to guess.

In the Wonderbolts, everyone gets a nickname. Infamously, these names are embarrassing. As a result, most newbies aren't privy to the shameful pasts of their predecessors, but that isn't going to stop Sky Stinger or Vapor Trail from trying to guess what Spitfire's was anyway.

They'll never get it.

Day #5 of Hearts and Hands Week 2025.

Published 2025-02-13 05:10:03 UTC
Last updated 2025-02-13 05:10:03 UTC

Nope, Not Even Close!

“Look, Wail, you’re never gonna get it.”

“But that’s not fair! Why do I have to be ‘Vapor Wail’ but you just get to be Spitfire?!”

“Because I’m your senior, Wail. And I don’t cry like a baby from hitting the track too hard.”

“I bet it was Shitfire.”

“Real clever, Sky Screamer. How long did it take you to come up with that one?”

Spitfire rolls her eyes, failing to completely hide her amusement at the bright-eyed display before her. She stands in the locker room of Wonderbolts Academy, a towel wrapped around her neck and a water bottle in her hoof. Across from her stand Vapor Trail and Sky Stinger, the two newest members of the Wonderbolts. Each of them are just as sweaty as she is, having completed a full day of harsh training mere moments ago.

“You’re really not gonna tell us?”

“It wouldn’t be hazing if I let you do it back, now, would it? Come on, rookies, lighten up. Suffering builds character.”

“I don’t even want to use it against you!” Vapor whines. “I just want to know! The curiosity is killing me!”

“Ugh.” Spitfire rolls her eyes before a cocky smirk quickly replaces her annoyance. “Tell you what. If you guess correctly, I’ll tell you if you’re right.”

“Shit… Flier?”

“Screamer, you gotta get off the shit train, that’s not it.”

“How about… Spitcinder!”

“Wail, that isn’t even remotely insulting.”

“Well, sure it is! A cinder isn’t nearly as noticeable or as proud as a full fire, and–”

“Ugh, you’re really living up to the Wail name.” Spitfire leans back against her locker, the cocky smile never fading from her face. “Come on, hit me! That the best you’ve got?”

“Spitroast!”

“Crashfire.”

“Swallowfire!”

“Nope, nope, and nada. Swallowfire is pretty funny though, I’ve gotta give you credit for that one.”

“I don’t know, I’m already getting kind of… hmhm, ‘burned out,’ aren’t you, Stinger?”

“That pun was bad and you should feel bad,” he sighs as he rubs at his temple. Gently shaking his head, he takes a seat on a nearby bench, leaning forward and narrowing his eyes at Spitfire after doing so. “I bet you were a total shrimp when you joined.”

“Don’t push your luck, kid. You ARE still talking to your superior.”

“Dumpsterfire.”

“Nope, not even close! Clever, though.”

“Dammit!”

“I don’t think her colleagues would be that cruel, Stinger.” Vapor’s gentle voice seems to soothe him immediately, as does the reassuring pat on the back she gives him as she takes a seat next to him. “We are still a team, after all.”

“No, it was pretty mean!” Spitfire laughs to herself, clearly reminiscing on something that she remembers more fondly than she probably should. “Doesn’t help that someone else got caught in the–”

“Crossfire!” Stinger shouts. “That was it, wasn’t it?!”

“...No.”

“Fuck!”

“Watch the profanity, kid. I gave you permission to guess my nickname, but nothing beyond that.”

“S-sorry, Miss Spitfire.”

“Hey, everypony!” All three heads lock onto the new voice entering the room, seeing that it belongs to a grinning Soarin. “What’s all the ruckus in here about?”

“Mr. Soarin! Please, tell us what Miss Spitfire’s nickname was!”

“...” Soarin glances at Spitfire, who gives him a look reminiscent of a stallion in the doctor’s office being told to lay off the booze for a while. “Wail, I wouldn’t touch that subject with a forty-foot pole.”

“Ah-ha! So you do know it!” Stinger shouts with a point and a grin.

“I-I do, but…” Another glance at Spitfire sends a shiver down his spine. “I… I should go.”

“No, wait!”

Vapor’s objection falls on deaf ears as Soarin unknowingly breaks his flight speed record escaping down the hall and away from his boss. The pair of newbies sigh simultaneously, leaving Spitfire to chuckle at the sight.

“Well, better luck next time, you two. Maybe once you outgrow those names I’ll grace you with the forbidden knowledge.”

“‘Forbidden knowledge,’ she calls it. Heh.” Vapor Trail and Sky Stinger glance at each other before quickly looking around the room. There was certainly a voice, but no one but themselves and Spitfire seem to be around. “I think you need to stop teasing the new kids so much, dear.”

“Dear?”

“Anon.” Spitfire’s voice is low and threatening. Looking in her direction, the newbies see that her eyes are shut and her teeth are clenched. “Don’t you dare.”

“And why not?” The voice immediately becomes clearer as, from behind a locker in a space that seems really uncomfortable to squeeze into, a human steps into view. He’s old and gruff, though with a defined chest and clear muscle definition. He wears worn-out overalls and carries a mop, indicative of his status as a janitor. “Last I checked, your little nickname caused me more trouble than it did you.”

“And that nickname waaaaaaaaaas~?”

Vapor and Stinger lean forward simultaneously, their eyes practically glowing and their smiles wider than is healthy.

“Anon, don’t you dare!”

“You’re not the boss of me, Monkey Fucker.”

“ANON!”

“...”

“...”

“...Heheh.”

Anon laughs to himself as he scratches the back of his head. If looks could kill, Spitfire would have him vaporized instantaneously. Meanwhile, the two other pegasi in the room sit in stunned silence, their mouths agape.

Eventually, it’s Vapor Trail that speaks up to break that silence.

“M… Monkey Fucker?”

“Ew, don’t say that. Foul language sounds wrong when it’s coming from you,” Stinger mumbles.

“Anon, we promised never to speak of this again. ESPECIALLY not in front of the newbies.”

“No, Monkey Fucker, you promised that.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask, but how did you get that name, Miss Spitfire?”

“No, I’m not telling you that.”

“I will!” Anon pounds on his chest proudly. “See, back when Spitfire first joined the Wonderbolts, I had also just signed up! As a janitor, obviously. No wings on this monkey.”

“D-don’t tell me you–!”

“Hit it off with the mare of the hour, yes. We had a fun night at the bar one evening, had a few too many drinks, and the next thing you know, we thought we wouldn’t get caught sneaking into the showers. Turns out–”

“If you finish this story, I’m actually going to kill you.”

“Spitfire gets really loud when she’s enjoying herself. Soon enough, Wind Rider comes in and catches us in the act. Hoo, we almost lost our jobs for that!”

“Alright, that’s it!”

Suddenly at full attention, Spitfire flings herself at Anon, her wings outstretched and a near-literal fire in her eyes. However, in one smooth motion, Anon grabs her outstretched hoof that had been aimed at his chest in one hand and her torso in the other, spinning to the side with the aid of her own forward momentum. He continues to spin, almost completing a full circle before slowing down with the leader of the Wonderbolts held tightly in his arms. She struggles, unable to break free from the comparably large human’s embrace. Using his right hand to gingerly stroke her fiery mane, Anon smiles and pulls her in close, planting a kiss directly on her lips in the process.

Vapor Trail and Sky Stinger watch with wide eyes. A strange noise comes from Stinger’s open mouth, but they otherwise remain silent at the sight of their boss’s cheeks going beet red as her lips are secured by Anon’s own. Her mouth is invaded by his daring tongue, and despite herself, a tiny moan escapes her. Her shaky eyes slowly close, but just as she seems ready to melt into Anon’s embrace, he drops her unceremoniously.

“Anyway, Wind Rider thought we made a cute couple, so we kept our jobs with little more than a couple hundred hours of community service and two fresh nicknames… even though Spitfire’s was awfully racist. Speciesist? Whatever.”

“Anon,” Spitfire groans from the floor below. “Mark my words, I’m getting back at you tonight.”

“Are you? Last I checked, I was the one holding onto the keys to the hoofcuffs!”

“UGH!”

Her entire face as red as can be, Spitfire breaks Soarin’s newly acquired record as she flies out of the room so quickly that she practically disappears. Laughing to himself, Anon leans on his mop, giving Vapor and Stinger a coy smile.

“Hope that answers your questions.”

Whistling, he turns on a dime and walks in the opposite direction. The newbies share a quick glance before Vapor clears her throat.

“M-Mr. Anon!”

“Hm?”

“One more question,” Stinger adds. “If Spitfire was Monkey Fucker, what was your nickname?”

“Well…” He thinks to himself before turning back towards them with one final, cocky grin. “Why don’t you guess?”

Author's Note

This one is for you, Soaring! :raritywink:

(Seriously though, please check out his stories if you want more Spitfire. :heart:)