#douglas booth fan fic

[getthefckouttahere]

hi there!! not sure if you’re still taking requests for the dirt, but if u r, i’d love to request a fic with the reader and nikki! maybe nikki has asthma and hides it from everyone on your bc he doesn’t want to seem weak or whatever, until he has an attack one day and the reader has to help him through it + the fluff that ensures. thank you

A/N: yo dudes i'm sorry this took so long but i’m back and probably worse than everi rushed to finish this so i could post it today of all days, coz it’s fiesta salsa quincinera queen raini rodriguez’s birthday (yes and mine) and how better to celebrate that than post a nikki fic?anyways i hope you enjoy it and i’m sorry if it’s not that good hhhhalso special thanks to @lifesasickjoke for co-writing this,, ily girl you the best

WARNINGS: asthma attack (in which idfk how they work or how people deal with them), mild swearing, very small mention of smoking, drugs and smut, thats it?

WORD COUNT: 1,079

-

“Fuck’s sake, Nikki, can you get off your ass and actually do something? Or are you too high to care?” you groaned, seeing his body sprawled across the pull-out couch as you walked into your living room.

You could feel the combined annoyance and stress being blown into Tommy’s birthday balloons when you saw that there was only an hour left until Heather was supposed to bring him back in time for his surprise party. And who better was there to organise it than you and your very own lazy ass of a boyfriend?

“Huh? Oh. No, I’m sober. Just took a little nap” he murmured, seemingly irritated to be woken up. You didn’t care though, as every squeak that came from the couch he was shuffling on only drove you nearer to insanity.

Besides, you weren’t even that close to Tommy. If his birthday party turned out to be a complete and utter failure, Nikki was the one that would get the blame.

“Great. Get up then.” you said, releasing the untied balloon in your hand so it could fly and slap him on the face.

“Alright, alright.” Nikki groaned, lifting himself off of his seat and making his way over to you.

“I guess I could go help Heather with the cake-”

“We already did that.” you snapped back, nodding your head over to the table in which you and Heather spent the past 3 hours on getting right.

“Fine. The snacks then.”

“Done that too.”

“Music?”

You didn’t even need to say anything to make him realise that music had been blasting out your record player the whole time.

“Whatever, just- help me with these balloons.” you sighed, throwing him a pack of balloons with the hand you weren’t using to blow your own set.

Brushing aside Nikki’s stutters of trying to find a way out of the job, you walked over to replace the record, but the coughing you heard after a few puffs of air did concern you.

“I told you to quit smoking a while ago.” you joked, making your way back over to the couch he had decided to make himself comfy on again.

“I only smoked…once…” Nikki tried to joke back between coughs.

“It’s amazing how you managed to steer clear of the stuff, hanging around the boys all the time.” you sneered.

“That’s why I got all the heroin.” he perked, managing to regain his breath as he tied the balloon up and started on another.

But the more he coughed and the paler his face got, you felt guilty for putting him in the situation. Sure, you’d never actually seen Nikki like this - the opportunity to blow balloons up doesn’t come every day - but what concerned you more was that you’d never seen anyone react this way.

“Y-you can take a break if you want, babe.”

“N…no it’s…fine…” he wheezed, pulling his hands away from his mouth to get his breath back. It didn’t seem to help in any way. He tried to slow his breathing down, but it only made his wheezing worse. The determined look on his face only got you more worried, especially when you saw that he was trying to brush it off and continue blowing the balloons up.

“Nikki,” you said sternly, grabbing his wrist gently to pry the balloon from his grip.

“My…my bag…” he aimlessly waved his arm to the backpack he had placed on the side of the room, which you immediately flew over to at his request.

“What d’you want, love?”

“Small…wheeze…tube…thing…”

Your hands fumbled through the bag and immediately caught their grasp on a solid, cylindrical object which you pulled out and rushed back to him with.

Before you had the chance to ask if it was the right thing, he snatched it out of your hands and immediately put it to his mouth.

“God I-I’m so sorry I didn’t- why didn’t you ever tell me?” you rushed.

“No, it’s fine. Not a lot of people know about it.” he answered after taking a deep, relieved breath.

“Well, were you planning on telling me?”

“Of course I was! I just…didn’t know how or when. I didn’t wanna scare you off this early in our relationship.” he awkwardly chuckled to ease how sternly you were staring at him.

“And I suppose Tommy and the rest of the guys know about this, seeing as you’ve known them for all these years?”

“No, I’d never tell them anyway. It’s not that important.”

“Nikki, you almost died right now and you’re saying it’s not important?”

“Okay, I did not die per se, my lungs just blocked themselves more than usual.” he tried to joke again, but this time you actually let out a little giggle.

“I mean, it’s not like I’m severely asthmatic. I could definitely live without the stupid inhaler.” he jeered, throwing the inhaler to the other side of the room to further prove his point.

“You could’ve died from blowing balloons.”

“Please, there are far more important things that I can do.” he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows like he normally did when he wanted to start something.

“Oh really? Like what?”

Your giggles were cut as soon as they started when his hands flew to cup your cheeks to pull you closer, connecting your lips in a way you’d never kissed him before.

It was small at first, with a few quick pecks, but as the kissing got deeper you knew his intentions.

Your heart fluttered as he hoisted you onto his lap, hands resting on your hips while yours wrapped around his neck, but then he pulled away so quickly.

“Fuck- babe I love you, but you’re quite literally taking my breath away.” he gasped, chuckling with you.

“That’s alright, but it would be quite badass to have ‘death by sex’ on your gravestone.” you giggled, sliding off of him and lying down instead.

“I really am the worst boyfriend.” he huffed, flopping down beside you.

Turning yourself around, you hooked our arm around his waist and trailed your hand up to his hair, braiding it lightly like you normally would to calm him down.

“You’re really not, Nik, you’re the best boyfriend I could’ve ever asked for and I’m glad I found out about this sooner rather than later. You know, from finding your dead body or something.” you chuckled again.

“I guess so. Thanks babe.” he sighed and chuckled, letting himself melt into your arms.

-

TAGS: @heavymetalprincessa @shameless-pope @thathappylandfill @lifesasickjoke @slowandangry @calumstuffs @iluvmesomemarvelndc @4evervoid @kawennote09 @anxious-diabetic @drowsebaby @motleyfuckingcruee

#my crackhead ass is back #literally do not know how to take ANYTHING seriously #but here we are #the dirt #motley crue #anon requested #nikki sixx #douglas booth!nikki sixxx #nikki sixx x reader #nikki sixx fan fic #nikki sixx fluff #douglas booth x reader #douglas booth fan fic #douglas booth fluff #the dirt fan fic

[nikki-fucking-sixx]

Yowza baby

#mick mars #motley crue #nikki sixx #nikki sixx fanfiction #the dirt #the dirt 2019 #tommy lee #vince neil #douglas booth #nikki sixx fan fic

[propertyofnikkisthighs]

She’s My Collar pt. 5

So I was gonna try to upload an update for both fics, but I’m still feeling yucky so have this chapter for now which I’m sorry if it’s not great, the next one will be better I promise lol.

Tag List: @nowhereiswhereibelong​ @littlemisscare-all​

“Miss did you hear me?” The officer in front of me grunts.

“I’m sorry could you repeat the question for me?” I ask shyly focusing on him and not Kevin shouting and thrashing as the other cops are shoving him into the police car.

“I asked you if you could give me your recount of the events that took place tonight.”

“Oh right. Well…”

The flames are starting the consume the curtains and spread across the carpet as Tommy and I round the corner from my bedroom. I make a beeline for the kitchen to grab the extinguisher I had luckily purchased when Nikki started lighting himself on fire in their apartment. I toss it to Tommy and he gets everything currently on fire doused with the foamy liquid. 

“What the fuck?” He wonders aloud as he reaches down picking up a broken bottle out of the mess. “River who the fuck would throw a moltov cocktail in your apartment?”

It’s like Loki the God of chaos himself is answering him when my door is kicked in and Kevin sways in full of intoxicated rage. He spots me frozen with fear against the fridge and begins to stomp towards me.

“You fucking good for nothing cunt I should’ve killed you when I had the chance” He screams and lunges towards me but is knocked to the ground by Tommy tackling him.

Tommy’s fist is covered in blood by the time I can get him pulled off Kevin and he spits on him as I get him pulled out of there just in time for the police and fire department to be pulling into the parking lot.

“We’ll be in touch.” The man hands me his card with his info on it before getting in his car and leaving.

Tommy is silent as we walk back to my apartment for me to inspect the damage done. My plants near my window scorched and my carpet destroyed is enough to send me over the edge. I collapse in the fetal position and let myself break down for the first time since the chaos began. I feel Tommy lay on the ground next to me and wrap his arms around me letting me have my moment. 

“Thank you.” I hoarsely let out.

“I told you that you were stuck with us guys for the rest of your life especially me.” He pressed a small kiss to my shoulder and butterflies filled my stomach.

“Let's get off the ground.” I sniffle the both of us sitting back up slowly and eventually clambering back into my bed. 

He pulls me against his body and rests his chin on the top of my head, the soft movement of him breathing lulling me to sleep.

“It’s the goddamn principal of the matter.” Nikki ranted as he paced through my living room while I tried to enjoy my morning coffee.

“So tell Vince you’re pissed.”

“No I can’t let him think he won. He needs to think I never wanted Beth in the first place.” He scoffed.

“Did you want Beth?”

“She gives great blowjobs. That’s why I suggested a threesome in the first place.” He plops into one of my chairs looking up at the ceiling.

“Listen Nikki I’m gonna be brutally honest since we’re friends and you would be with me, this is your fault for opening up your girlfriend to Vince Neil.”

“I hate it when you’re right you know that?”

“You’ll find a new groupie to fuck Nikki you’ll be fine. Now we gotta get to the studio you boys have photos for the album we need to take today.”

The boys had finished recording their first album by the grace of God himself. They spent the entire few days in the studio drunk and pissing off their sketchball manager, but by the end of it they had a full blown album that didn’t take much money to produce. They even got to save money on photos for the album since I was their personal photographer, which aforementioned sketchball was thrilled about. His name was Alan, but I didn’t have a good feeling about him so I rarely referred to him by his name, not to his face.

“My hair isn’t going to show!” Vince pouted in front of the (awful) white background Alan had thrown together for their album pictures.

“It’ll be fine Vinnie we’re gonna get them edited by a professional.” He quipped from beside me.

“Excuse me?” I ask unaware he was having somebody else  edit my photos.

“Well yeah sweetheart you expect me to trust the work of an amature to look good enough without editing? You’re out of your mind.” 

“Listen here you sweaty ass-” I’m cut off by Tommy’s hand covering my mouth blocking the next slew of insults I had prepared.

“Let's take 5 for a cigarette break” He says cheerfully and leads me away still covering my mouth.

“You can stop licking my hand thinking that is gonna make me move it from your mouth you know.” Tommy says after dragging me outside the building we were shooting in. I pull away from him and fix him with a death glare that he just chuckles at lighting up a cigarette.

“I don’t want someone else to fuck with my photos Tommy. They’ll ruin it, I just know it.”

“It’ll be fine Riv. Besides if it’s fucked up then next time Alan can pay you more to do the photos and the editing.”

“Yeah that cheap bastard isn’t about to pay me more for jack shit Tommy.” I roll my eyes and pace back and forth in front of him. “Are you guys sure you want him as your manager? He gives me a weird feeling.”

“I think you’re paranoid babe” Tommy pulled me close and placed a kiss on my forehead. “Now lets get through this photoshoot so we can party it up later alright?”

“As much as I hate The Troubadour sometimes, yes I’m willing to get through the rest of the photoshoot so that we can go ‘party it up’ with the boys there” I tease and lean in close to him.

Tommy’s intoxicating scent of leather, cigarettes, and the men’s body wash I’ve been getting him to use pulls me in and I tuck my face into his neck and place a soft kiss there. He hums as his hand plays softly in my hair and he pulls slightly to tilt my head up. Our lips connect in a soft peck and he pulls away to stroke my cheek with his thumb.

When I walk back in Alan was nowhere to be found, which was perfect for me so that I could get my work done faster. Vince it seems has also finished his little temper tantrum as well. The rest of the shoot goes by without a hitch and we get our final shot for the cover of the album, which was just a close up shot of Vince’s crotch. By the time we get done and piled into my car it’s about time to get ready for the party the boys were throwing for completing the album and releasing it themselves on their own record label.

“Are you Nikki Sixx?” A voice off to the side of Nikki calls and he turns from our conversation with a shit eating grin giving her a single “no”  in response.

“Oh well that’s a shame cause I was going to split this quaalude with him.” She shrugs and goes to move on, but Nikki quickly stops her and confirms he in fact is Nikki Sixx and he was just fucking with her.

I watch her smile and bite her drug in half placing the other half onto Nikki’s tongue and he looks like he just might be falling in love for the first time. I look around and see Vince and Beth wrapped up together and Mick nursing his bottle of vodka, but I can’t find Tommy. I make my way through the crowd up to the bar and I don’t spot the tall brunette anywhere. He could just be outside smoking a cigarette, I tell myself feeling the bits of insecurity start to blossom in my head. 

“Two Jack and Cokes please” I say to the bartender when I finally get his attention. I figure if I go to find Tommy with a drink in hand it makes me look less like a crazy person.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing ordering your own drinks?” The man to my left says and I have to put effort into not rolling my eyes.

“Well nothing on me is broken so I’m more than capable of getting my own drinks” I shoot back trying to walk away, but his hand comes up to block me from going forward.

“I’m just saying if you got a man he should be catering to you. What’s your name goddess?” His sickening grin shows teeth all too white against far too tan of skin. 

“Her name is none of your business.” A deep huff comes from behind me and I turn to see Mick casually leaning against the bar.

“What are you her fucking dad?” The overly bronze man snaps.

“I’m trying to help you, but if you don’t want to keep all your fucking teeth that’s your dumbass decision.” Mick chuckles and tips his head to Tommy making his way towards us already sending hate eyes to the man next to me.

“You should listen to the man.” I shrug. “He fights.” I nod toward Tommy for emphasis.

The man looks like he’s about to argue when I feel Tommy slide his arm across my shoulders.

“This guy bothering you babe?” He asks sipping the drink in my hand never breaking eye contact with the strange guy with a look that said ‘one wrong move and I’ll kill you.

I smile like a cat that just caught a mouse and sip my drink as well.

My back hits the back wall of the closet as Tommy tries to find a secure place to hold my body so he can kiss me and grind into me at the same time.

“Fuck can I get this kind of reaction everytime I stick up for you.” Tommy pants breaking away from our kissing to catch his breath.

He hisses as I grind against him while pulling his hair back to expose his neck to me. I take the opportunity to nip at the skin there and feel the rumbling of another groan pass through him. Tommy begins to unlace his pants and suddenly the realization of how public we are hits me. Right as a worker opens the closet door to be exact.

“Ah I’m so sorry!” I yelp climbing off Tommy and rushing out of the closet and out the back door. Tommy is hot on my tail quickly catching up with the help of his long ass legs.

“Come on.” Tommy begins leading me to my car. “We’re going to your apartment to finish this.

#she's my collar #tommy lee fanfic #mgk!tommy lee fan fic #mgk!tommy lee #Tommy Lee #nikki sixx fanfic #douglas booth!nikki sixx #douglas booth!nikki sixx fanfic #nikki sixx #vince neil fanfic #daniel webber!vince neil #daniel webber!vince neil fanfic #Vince Neil #mick mars fanfic #Mick Mars #iwan rheon!mick mars #iwan rheon!mick mars fanfic #motley crue fanfic #the dirt fan fiction

[slxyangel]

You Knew (Nikki Sixx x Reader)

Summary: You feel the urge to save Nikki from one of his biggest demons. Or at least help him carry the weight.

Wordcount: 2.2 k.

Warnings: Angst, alcohol, nightmares, swearing (as always).

A/N: The Dirt setting. // @ohhludo deserves the entire world, but I'm only a fic writer so I provide the best I can, which is a personalized tag. Thanks for the support bby ♡

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

Masterlist: https://slxyangel.tumblr.com/post/189625800403/masterlist

You woke up to the sound of a closing door. Your mouth was dry, your stomach queasy and your mind numb thanks to the slumber and the hungover. Tour nights were horrible, but mornings were even worse. Well, better said, afternoons, because it was probably after five p.m. by now. With your eyes still closed you turned around in the hotel bed to place your right arm on Nikki's lap, but on his side of the mattress, instead of him, all you found was a bunch of wrinkled, still warm sheets.

You opened your eyes to confirm that, as you thought, your boyfriend was nowhere to be found. Sure, that must have been the closing door. With a resigned sigh you hug his pillow and inhaled his scent. If it didn't fully wake you up you would at least have something nice to cling to in your hangover-zombie phase.

You had spent almost two weeks tagging along he band on the american leg of their Theatre of Pain tour, right before Christmas break. You had showed up as a surprise the day after Nikki's 27th birthday and you guys were now in Florida for the last show of the year. After ten days of sheer whipping; concerts, flights, parties, drugs and general excess the guys were fresh as a daisy, but you felt destroyed. Anyway, you were aware that was the price to pay if you wanted to savor the last period with your boyfriend before he flew to Europe for almost two months.

With the sluggishness of a corpse, because that's basically what you were, you got up from the bed and went straight to the bathroom to wash your face. You were surprised that after a show night Nikki had woken up on his own, without Doc having to come and drag him out of the bedroom, but if he had done it, it was most likely to go to the buffet. You would never understand how, after downing gallons of alcohol, he was always that hungry.

Planning to join him in his breakfast session, you put on the first of his t-shirts you found and a pair of jeans you wore the day before. There was no point in searching for clean clothes; it was the last day of tour, so there probably weren't any. And if there were, you wouldn't find them in the middle of that mess. You went out to the corridor and walked towards the elevator, but right before stepping in you heard someone screaming in the hall downstairs, followed by the sound of broken glass.

Your blood froze in your veins.

The lift took its sweet time going down while the yelling became louder, and you were frantic. You would recognize that voice anywhere. As soon as you got off the elevator, which led straight to the hall, you came across a 50 year old skinny woman with copper hair and strangely familiar green eyes. She looked at you with a scared expression for less than a second. A few meters to your left, right next to the hotel's main door, Nikki's voice sounded crystal clear.

- … WHO WOULDN'T BE STANDING THERE RIGHT NOW UNLESS YOU WERE GETTING SOMETHING OUT OF IT, SO JUST FUCK OFF, DOC. YOU'RE FUCKING FIRED.

You broke the eye contact with that woman and stormed past her, running across the hall, chasing after Nikki who had just gone out, full on ballistic mode. Doc was standing there, looking half confused, half hurt. Without stopping in your tracks, you gave him a look that said “What the fuck is going on?”, but you already knew. You were achingly sure.

Once you were out in the street, you ran covering the 20 meters that separated you from your boyfriend. You reached him and, without saying a word nor stopping your steps, you held his left hand. He was visibly tense. Actually, he was fuming, so you knew better than to talk to him. In contact with your hand, he automatically pulled away his.

- Go away - he said, visibly altered.

- Nope - you answered firmly.

- I’m serious, Y/N, go the fuck away - you could tell he was actively trying to bite his tongue.

- I said no. I’m not leaving you alone, Nikki. I'm not going to touch you, I'm not going to talk to you, you're not even going to realize I am here, but I’m not leaving you alone. So keep walking.

And he did. He didn’t slow down, but he didn’t insist either. You were both pretty stubborn, and in your relationship he won some battles and you won some others. This was going to be one of the latter. He was really quiet, eyes fixed ahead, between a certain spot and no spot at all, clenched jaw and heavy breathing. You managed to keep up the pace, without touching him, without looking at him, without comforting him, as much as your guts were aching for it, because the last thing you wanted was to pull him further away. You restricted yourself to stayimg beside him for a long while, as you both walked aimlessly through the unknown streets of Florida.

You had been dating Nikki for nearly two years, you had been through ups and downs, through thick and thin, and you were the person he felt most comfortable with since long ago, he made sure to repeat that to you ad nauseam. He had told you practically everything about his life: you knew about his father, you knew about his grandparents, about his problems in school, about his endless move-ins, about why and under what circumstances he had arrived to Los Angeles, and you knew about his mother. You knew how much she had neglected him since he was a kid, how she prioritized random men who hit her son just because she felt lonely, you had seen with your own eyes the way that factor had conditioned his personality and how, more often than not, he woke up in the middle of the night sweating, screaming or crying thanks to it, and you were the one who always picked up the pieces. You had also seen the wall of disgust in his eyes everytime he talked about her, and you had learned to read behind it, only to come across a well of pain so deep that the only thought of it made you feel insanely sick.

So because of and apart from this, you knew about his issues with drugs. You had lived painfully close to them. Cocaine or pills were one thing, because they could do ugly things, and you’d be lying if you said you had never tried them, especially keeping in mind who your partner was, who he was surrounded by and what they did for a living. But heroine was an entirely different level. For some time now that had become routine; day by day he did it more frequently, day by day his body generated more tolerance so day by day he increased the dose. To be fair, he always tried not to do it near you so he didn't forcefully involve you, so he saved you certain trouble, so he didn't hurt you. But at this point you weren’t sure if you preferred it like this or either you were scared that he would take those moments as his “freedom” and things flew out of control. You had already tried to talk about it more than once but, although at first he only avoided the topic, now he got defensive and angry about it, so that approach was no longer an option, especially not in that very moment. Right then and there, you needed to be extra sly if you wanted to avoid rebound effect, but you were also certain that, if he injected heroin in such a nervous breakdown, which was precisely what he intended to do, it would be a massive catastrophe. Because of this and because you knew that, with you around, he would in no way shoot up, you decided to play that ace to your advantage and stick to his ass like a limpet; you weren’t willing to lament anything else.

After a couple of minutes, when the tightness in his shoulders and in his jaw had visibly relaxed and his breathing was even, you tried again to hold his hand, gently, just so he knew that you got him, that you were there, and this time he didn’t pull away. You kept walking for a while, more slowly now.

- Was that your mother? - you broke the silence that reigned between you two.

Nikki seemed to grow more tense for a moment, but it was such a subtle detail that, if you hadn’t known him so well, you would have thought it was all your imagination. He answered after a pause.

- Yes.

And another silence. His tight lips were drawing a thin line and his green eyes never stopped looking to the front. But damn if you weren't looking at him. His features sparkled with the golden light of the sun which, at that time, was already hiding behind the buildings. The sight was breathtaking. That “Yes” had sounded blunt, dry and sharp as the blade of a knife. More than “Yes” he had said “You promised to be quiet and fucking unnoticeable, so shut your mouth if you don’t want to be cold-bloodly murdered right here”. In fact, more than that, he had said “For God’s sake don’t make me go back into that matter, because I don’t know if I’m going to be able to come out again”. You couldn’t stand seeing him this upset, this disturbed. This was his tour, his moment, his dream, this was his last Christmas with you before flying to Europe, these were supposed to be his golden days, but instead she had to appear and turn them grey. You were infuriated.

- You know - you started talking almost before realizing it - I just find it funny how, after I-don’t-know-how-many years, she must have turned on her TV, seen her son giving an interview and signing autographs, and her vicious little mind has decided it was acceptable to show up with a Christmas sweater and a hug, as if that would redeem her. She can’t do that, that is simply not okay. What was she thinking? That setting a trap with your manager and appearing without a warning, without even making sure you were okay with that, thanks to some magical elves she was going to reunite the family for dinner? She has no, and I mean it, NO right at all. She doesn’t get to make that decision, that’s solely and exclusively on you. If you want to see her, if you want to talk to her then great, perfect, absolutely amazing. Actually, I’ll be the one knotting your tie and cooking stuffed turkey for the feast even if I have to learn the recipe and might end up setting the kitchen on fire, I don’t care, I’d be thrilled. But there lies the difference, you have to be the one who decides it, not her. She can’t impose that on you. So you have every right to be pissed, and I came to be pissed next to you.

Suddenly and for the first time since you left the hotel, Nikki stopped, so your hands separated. When you turned around to see him he looked surprised. His head, slightly turned to the right, was showing a confused but somehow funny expression. He looked like he didn’t know how to say what he wanted to say.

- What? - you couldn’t hide the traces of anger still dripping off of you after your speech.

- Wow - he stated. - When you came after me in the hotel I already visualized that you were going to lecture me. I don’t know, I thought you were, as always, coming to play the pacifier, to intercede for the sake of her or for the sake of how long it has been or for the sake of it being Christmas. I didn’t expect… this reaction.

Now it was you who looked at him with a funny expression. Smiling, you covered the few steps that separated you from him, held his hand again and you resumed your walk together.

- Then you barely even know me. - he snorted, subtly shaking his head for himself.

- Says the one who just hinted I, Nikki fucking Sixx, would wear a tie.

You were glad you had managed to make him laugh, and the fact that he was in the mood for jokes gave you hope. Then, as if the universe wanted to do you a favor, you saw an IHOP around the corner, and a lightbulb appeared in your mind.

- As I said, I came here to be pissed next to you. But let me tell you something: one can be perfectly pissed while having pancakes for breakfast. Or dinner. I don’t know what time it is, with this whole thing the clock was the last of my worries. What do you think?

As a response his stomach dedicated its most audible roar to you, so that was it. Like you deduced, Nikki hadn’t eaten a single thing since the day started, so his habitual post-party ferocious appetite was the weak spot that most easily would redirect him back to a better mindset. And that was the sight; outwards, you were a young couple holding hands and going for some pancakes in a Christmas afternoon, pretty idyllic, like an advertisement. And inwards… well, inwards you were exactly the same but with a hangover, mommy issues and pissed together.

#nikki x reader #nikki sixx x reader #nikkisixx #nikki sixx #thedirtmovie #the dirt motley crue #douglas booth #angst #motley crue imagine #imagine #motley crue #one shot #oneshot #fan fic

[cruecifymesixx]

Love and Leather /part fifteen/

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: To the anon that said it was too long, i figured out how to do the link. I deadass was about to say fuck it. Also, first time writing smut, dont @ me if its horrible.

Warnings:dirty sleaze, language as usual.

Taglist: @oskea93, @brideofdraculana , @xstarryeyes, @aryssav, @miserablecunt, @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol , @electradestiny , @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies, @fandomshit6000 , @anntheboneless @tiranni, @venus-calum, @justjodeye, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @are-we-real, @brooklyn-antiques, @hi-my-name-is-riley, @extremesadnerding, @thatbandchick39, @awkwrdcait, @countrygirlswonderland, @dillightfulpickle, @madsthegroupie, @martabastic, @hoop-diddy-doo, @romanticvengeance, @tashy-bear, @krazykatkay456, @shinobi-nobi, @shouttatthedevill, @moonlightxcal, @gees-jacket-slut, @rodriguez025, @kickstart-myheart-sixx, @s-outhie, @baiabouk, @motlycrue

Nikki’s POV

My heart was beating fast as I kept opening up doors and slamming them, getting frustrated that everyone in this god damn house had the same idea I did. “Maybe it’s the universes way of telling us we shouldn’t bang.” Vanity told me, giggling as the coke was finally starting to seep it’s way into her brain. She goes through massive giggle fits and was always down for anything when ever she did blow with us.

“Shut up with the philosophical shit, Van. I’m done playing games with you.” I said as I held her hand, getting even more pissed as every guest room I went into was occupied.

“Yes sir.” Vanity mocked me, causing me to roll my eyes, “But Nikki, I wanted to have fun with Tommy.” She whined out quietly. I came to a halt as she stumbled into me. I turned around and faced her, “you’ll have more fun with me doll.” I told her, picking her up and throwing her over my shoulder.

I opened the master bedroom door and laughed, “I am not having sex in Vince’s bed!” She told me as I sat her down on the bed, and turning away to lock the door, “God knows how many tramps he’s fucked in here...Nikki, his wife sleeps here.” She told me and I rolled my eyes, while reaching down and slipping off her heels.

“Either we do it here, or do it in the bathroom, your pick doll. I thought this would be more fancier for your rich princess self.” I joked with her, a huff escaping her hips, laying back into the bed. I stood a foot away while basking in her beauty.

I wanted to control myself, I wanted nothing more then to rip off that skimpy black skirt and fuck her senseless, but I couldn’t treat her like I treat these whores I usually fuck. I wanted to take my time with her.

“Are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna touch me?” She asked while propping herself up on her elbows, giving me a smirk and raising her eyebrow.

She scooted herself up the bed as I kicked off my boots, slowly making my way onto the bed and crawling on top of her, resting in between her legs.

“I hope we get interrupted like usual, just in spite of you not letting m-“ I shut her up by kissing her soft lips, while trailing my tongue across them before pulling away,

Her eyes slowly opened as her hand moved the pieces of hair out of my face, “You need to be quiet sometimes.” I whispered, placing another gentle kiss on her lips, while lazily trailing them to her jawline, then finally down to her neck.

I felt her sigh underneath me, as my teeth grazed the skin of her neck. Vanity ran her fingers through my hair, tugging my head up and putting her lips on mine. I slipped my tongue inside of her mouth, tasting the whiskey from earlier. Vanity sluggishly threw her arms over my shoulders, trying to pull me closer to her. I laid down on top of her, trying not to put all of my weight on her.

I worked my way down to her neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin trying to leave my mark. Her free hand started tugging at my shirt, I sat up on my knees and took it off as her nails traced down my chest and untied my leather pants, before squeezing my cock through them.

I leaned back down and kissed her lips, groaning as she kept rubbing me through the fabric, her lips forming a smirk. “You better lose that grin of yours.” I warned her right before sinking my teeth into her neck, causing a moan to escape through her lips.

I sat on my knees again, as her legs were draped over mine. I slid my hands underneath her top while pulling it up, she did the rest of the work and took it off.

“Fucking beautiful, Van.” I muttered as I cupped her breasts, and began kissing down her chest and abdomen, before gliding my tongue back up. Vanitys’ eyes closed and fluttered in the back of her head in pure bliss as she grabbed her own breasts, squeezing & toying with them.

I looked up at her angelic face before letting my teeth graze across her nipple, making her pink glossy lips part. I moved to the other side, gently smacking away her hand and holding it at her side. “Nikki, please...” she pleaded, her body slightly squirming underneath mine, as my tongue swirled around her nipples, “I need you...fuck..” I listened to her begging, trying to play it cool but I was slowly losing the battle. I reached down for her skirt as she lifted up her hips for me to slide it down her legs.

Vanity let a whimper escape her lips as I trailed my finger up and down the dampness of her panties. I moved her thong to the side as a smile played across my face. I’ve waited so long to see her naked on a bed, begging for me to touch her. Fuck, practically letting me do anything i’d like as long as it meant i was touching her. I looked at her as I let my finger brush over her clit, her gaze was already set on me as she placed a hand behind her head, “Stop teasing me, you jerk.” She whined, causing me to laugh, “Okay, okay.” I responded, grabbing the band of her thong and pulling it down her legs.

I let my lips drift across the top of her thighs before forcefully grabbing her knees and making her legs part. Vanity sighed in content as I watched her run her manicured nails through her hair.

I kissed her inner thighs, gently nipping the soft skin, which made her try to close her legs but I held them down to the bed. I placed a gentle kiss on her clit, while spreading her folds and slowly licking a line up and down, before swirling my tongue in circles around it.

Vanity rested her hand against the back of my head, grabbing a fistful of my hair. “So fucking good.” I mumbled in between her legs, while holding down her hips gently sucking on her clit. “Fuck, Nikki...”

I looked up, noticing her bottom lip in between her teeth, while her eyebrows were scrunched together. I reached up, toying with her tits, with my free hand I licked my finger as I slowly teased her entrance, emitting a moan to escape her now parted lips.

My tight leather pants were becoming more tight, feeling as if they were cutting off all circulation to my cock. I quickly stood up, “What are you doing?!” Vanity shouted, “Shut up.” I groaned back at her, while trying to take off the pants as quick as I could but it proved to be difficult. I shoved her back down on the bed, slowly sliding a digit in her while my tongue worked on her clit.

I groaned into her wetness, “You taste so fucking good, Doll.” I told her as I grabbed my throbbing dick, and slipping another digit inside of her. I guided my fingers in and out skillfully while trying to find the right pace, slightly curling my fingers. Once I found a solid rhythm, she started moaning louder, “Babe, fu-“ She got choked up by yet another moan, “I just wanna feel you in me.” Vanity said, her eyes closed while taking her lip in between her teeth.

I groaned when she said that, as i quickly moved to the side of her, resting my forehead against hers, strategically teasing while pumping my fingers inside of her wetness, “Tell me what you want princess.” I whispered into her ear while my fingers started to speed up, trying to push her over the edge.

Vanity’s moans filled the room, her thighs were beginning to slightly tremble. “F-Fuck...I want your cock inside me..” She says through moans, wrapping her hand around the nape of my neck and pulling me into a rough kiss.

I pulled away from her lips and studied her face, Vanity’s plump lips were parted, eyes closed and her eyebrows were scrunched together. By the way her heat was clenching around my fingers, I knew she was close, “You want me to fuck you like a whore?” I asked, before sucking on side of her already bruised neck.

“Please Nikki. “ Vanity chokes out between moans, “I’m gonna cum.” She told me, causing me to smirk, “Then cum.” I casually stated while my fingers rhythmically brush against her G-spot. I’m truly only good at two things in life; the first being bass, the second being pleasuring a woman the way she wants to be.

Vanity dug her nails into the back of my neck as I felt her release herself all over my fingers. “Fuck, Nikki!” She yelled out, not allowing the pace slow down until she put her hand on top of mine to get me to stop. I looked at her, a sly smile on my face and her eyes full of lust.

I reached down and grabbed my pants, letting her catch her breath as I grabbed a condom out of my back pocket. I never, ever left home without one.

She pushed her hair back and rubbed her face as I finished putting it on, and slowly made my way back on top of her. “You sure?” I asked her, as I let my hard cock tease her entrance. She gave me a smile and nodded.

I spread her wetness around, before slowly easing myself inside of her. Her hand wrapped around my bicep, “Wait..Wait.” She said while looking down as I stretched her out. I slowed down as much as I could and placed my lips on hers, “God you’re so fucking tight, doll.” I said through gritted teeth, trying to make sure I didn’t bust right then and there.

“Fuck..” I moaned out as I finally got all the way inside of her. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Christ.” I told her and she chuckled, then gave me a nod, telling me it’s okay to go.

But honestly? She didn’t have to tell me fucking twice. My thrusts started to find a rhythm as my hips bounced against hers, and as she wrapped her legs around my waist. I felt her nails run up and down my back, leaving their mark, “Christ, Van.” I groaned wanting more of the pain that was causing me pleasure. I picked up my pace and started thrusting deeper inside of her, “Please, don’t stop.” Vanity breathes out, while digging her nails into my sides, making me feel the blood droplets dribble down, “Ah fuck.” I moaned while grabbing her hands, pinning them against her abdomen, holding them in place while repositioning her legs so they were resting against my shoulders and chest as I held onto her wrists for more leverage as I began to pound into her.

“Oh my god! Nikki.” She screamed out, I smirked to myself, hoping everybody at the god damn party heard her. She couldn’t control the moans that were escaping her pretty little lips. I let go of her pinned down arms, and began to rub her clit with my thumb, thrusting into her harder.

“Fuck! You’re gonna make me cum!” She cried out. With my free hand I reached up and wrapped it around her throat gently, before squeezing the side sides of her neck. I watched has her cheeks turned a rosy pink and a smile formed, her bottom lip going between her teeth. What a beautiful fucking sight.

A broken up moan escaped her lips, “Fu...Fuck...Nikki.” She placed her hand on top of mine, and I let go of her, as she finally inhaled a breath of fresh air.

I pulled out of her, “I want you on your fucking knees.” I told her, she did as I said, as she got on all fours. I got behind her and noticed the mirror that was strategically placed in perfect view.

Fucking Vince, i’ll have to thank him for this later.

I slowly slid myself back in her, as I watched Vanity’s face through the mirror, but her hips naturally tried pulling away as I buried my cock in her, “God Sixx, you’re so big.” She moaned, as I pulled her back to me.

I started giving her slow, deep thrusts as I tried to find my composure, while pushing my hair back. I grabbed a fist full of her long locks, as I picked up my speed, “I’m gonna cum, Nikki.” She dragged out my name, as she grabbed ahold of the sheets while I started to slide my dick into her harder.

She started to match my thrusts, pushing her ass back into me, I let my hand come down for stiff slap against it, “Baby, fuck!” She yelled out, as i did it again on the other cheek, but harder, making her pull away from me, but again I pulled her back.

I grabbed a hold of her hips, digging my fingers into them as I made her take all of me, only resulting in ungodly moans to come out of her. “I’m gonna cum, Nikki!!” She screamed out, as she started to play with herself.

“Cum for me doll, let me feel you cum all over my cock.” I groaned, feeling my own release coming soon, while smacking her ass again.

“Oh my god!!” She moaned, as her pussy tightened around me, “Fucking hell.” I hissed through my teeth trying to hold off until she was finished. I watched her orgasm through the mirror. Her lips were parted, she was holding her breath, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

“Cat got your tongue?” I asked, choking out a laugh, she slowly opened up her eyes and looked at me through the mirror, shaking her head and biting her lip, “Asshole.” She whispered. In response, I slapped her ass as hard as I could, “Nikki!” She moaned out, I looked down and saw a bright red hand print.

“Come here.” I said pulling out and laying on my back, holding her hand, and guiding her to straddle my waist. She grabbed my rock hard cock, slowly easing herself on to me and began to slowly rock her hips into mine. I tried catching my breath as she took control, placing her hands on my chest and riding me.

“Cum for me, Nikki.” She said, as I grabbed her hips, guiding her into mine. “Tell me this pussy is mine.” I groaned out, trying to focus, but she didn’t say anything, “Fucking tell me.” I said while grabbing her waist and sitting up as she was in my lap, still making her take it, “And if I don’t?” She whispered into my ear as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders. I grabbed a fistful of her hair and made her look at me, “Fucking tell me you belong to me.” Her lips parted as we made eye contact. She bit her lip, looking at me with pouty eyes, “I belong to you.” I groaned, “God damn, fucking right you do.” She bucked her hips into mine, making me lay on my back again.

“I want you to cum Nikki, please cum for me.” She moaned, continuing to ride me while biting the side of my neck, “Ah, fuck! Van!” I shouted as I finally hit my breaking point.

“God damnit!” I yelled while pushing hair out of my face. Vanity got off of me, laughing at herself, “and what the fuck are you laughing at?” I asked her, and she shook her head as I took off the condom and tossed it to the floor.

“Come here, sweets.” I said while pulling back the sheets. She got underneath the sheets with me, curling up against my side, while leaning her head on my chest as my arm was wrapped around her body.

“Bout nearly killed me.” I told her, feeling her body tremble with a fit of laughter. I reached down for my pants, “You want a bump?” I asked while pulling out a small baggie of coke, “I’m okay.” She spoke softly, as her fingertips traced the tattoos on my chest.

I relaxed as Vanity wrapped an arm around my waist, “Go to bed doll, I’ll be here when you wake up.” I told her, my mind too wired off the drugs to sleep. “Okay.” She yawned, as I glided my hands up and down her back, while kissing the top of her head.

What felt like a few hours later was only about forty minutes when there was knock on the door, only for me to hear Docs’ voice. I looked down at Vanity, seeing she was sound asleep. I quietly got out of bed while putting on my pants.

I opened the door, seeing his eyes dart over to Vanity, I moved to the side and blocked his view, “What?” I snapped at him,

“We have a huge fucking problem, we need you.” He said, shutting the door in his face. I got my clothes back on, and took one more glance at her before walking out the door.

#the dirt #the dirt movie #the dirt smut #nikki sixx #nikki sixx imagine #nikki sixx fan fic #douglas booth #motley crue #nikki sixx smut #douglas booth smut #writings #my idea #smut #1980s #music

[itad]

Tonight's The Night! (part 11) TheDirt! TommyXReader

Summary: You have been on tour for almost a year, event after event, mile after mile. Your uncle was Doc the manager of Mötley Crüe, one of your favorite bands. He pulled a few strings and got you on this tour for a late birthday present and for making up the lost time from when you didn’t see him much as a child. As he was one of the only ‘father’ figures you had. Recently found yourself thinking more and more of Tommy. Could you possibly be falling in love with the hopeless romantic? If you were could he possibly feel the same?

Taglist: @bandzrus @lauravic @abbysdogcollar

A/N: We skipped a few months and the pov is back on you. Enjoy! And my birthday was a few days ago! thought I should tell yall.

Words:778

“Y/N, were you jealous? is that why you started fucking Nikki.” Tommy stood before you, his lanky arms folded in front of him, both of you were outside and it was pouring. Cliche I know right.

“What? No. If you're happy with Heather then I'm happy for you Tommy.” You were completely soaked at this point, you couldn't look at Tommy, you could lie your ass off to the cops but when it came to this crue you couldn't lie to any of them.

“Y/N look at me and say it,” Tommy took a hold of your shoulders, gently. “Tell me That I need to get married to Heather. Please. Goddamnit Y/N you drive me crazy. I haven't gotten you off my mind. Say that you feel nothing for me.”

“I can't.” You looked up at the sky even though it was raining, you were holding back tears.

“Then tell me you love me.”

You woke up from the little nap that you took. Today was the day of Tommy’s and Heather's wedding, you were less than happy about it. you slowly got up and went to the bathroom to take something for the headache you've had for the day hearing a knock on the door you walked to it. Opening you saw no other than Tommy fucking Lee right in front of you. 

“Tommy?” You stepped out of your house, the sky was dark and you could smell that rain was coming. “What are you doing here? You're supposed to be getting married soon.” You crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Am I doing this right?” Tommy’s question was deep.

“Doing what right, getting married? Tommy if you're happy with Heather then go be with her, I don't know what you're doing here.” 

“I don’t think I’m in love with Heather.”

“I, I don't understand.” You looked at Tommy confused.

“Y/N, were you jealous? is that why you started fucking Nikki.” Tommy stood before you, his lanky arms folded in front of him, both of you were outside and it was pouring. Cliche I know right.

“What? No. If you're happy with Heather then I'm happy for you Tommy.” You were completely soaked at this point, you couldn't look at Tommy, you could lie your ass off to the cops but when it came to this crue you couldn't lie to any of them.

“Y/N look at me and say it,” Tommy took a hold of your shoulders, gently. “Tell me That I need to get married to Heather. Please. Goddamnit Y/N you drive me crazy. I haven't gotten you off my mind. Say that you feel nothing for me.”

“I can't.” You looked up at the sky even though it was raining, you were holding back tears.

“Then tell me you love me.”

“Tommy. Tommy fucking Lee,” You took a step towards him. “I have loved you longer then you could ever know. Long before you even knew me. I will love you longer than anyone or anything, well besides your parents.” You looked at Tommy’s beautiful eyes, searching for something.

Tommys lips landed in a smile, his eyes darted to your mouth then back up to your eyes.

“What are you waiting for drummer?” Next thing you knew his mouth was on yours finally. It felt like literal fireworks. Pulling away you looked at him, searching for something like he felt something on his side too.

“Wow.” He grinned, leaning his head on yours.

“Wow.” You giggled, and he could’ve sworn he heard a angel.

You looked at him confused “Does she know your not getting married to her?”

“Well not totally...”

“Go tell her then come back to me cowboy.” Your voice stern yet still angelic. And with that he was gone again.

A few hours had gone by and you were getting nervous that after all he got married. Leaving you alone with just some scotch and a piano. You started playing the beginning and ending notes of later song known as Home Sweet Home, tuning the notes when it didn’t sound right. But you didn’t know was that Tommy was listening as he entered your sparcly decorated house. You stopped playing for a second and took a sip from your glass, finally hearing a clap.

“That sounds nice but for the last two notes it should sound like this.” Tommy fingers caressed the keys and carefully played the instrument. A soft smile rose to your face as you knew he was the one.

“What are you staring at?” He laughed his usual Tommy laugh.

“You.”

Next thing you knew was his lips on yours once again.

#motley crue #motley #mgk!tommy lee #mgk #tommy lee #the dirt fic #the dirt fanfiction #thedirt #the dirt imagines #the dirt #douglas booth #daniel webber #fan fic writing #fanpage #fan fiction #fanfiction #fanfic #vince neil #nikki sixx #mick mars #iwan rheon #crüe #crue #2019

[primal-screamer-blog1]

Fan Fiction Master Post

I’m currently taking requests for Motley Crue and Guns n Roses one shots.  If you’re a fan fiction writer, message me about doing a custom cover or about exchanging feedback.  

Motley Crue Mutually Assured Destruction (Playlist Here) Rating: Mature Pairing: Nikki Sixx/F. OC Description: Growing restless in his discontent, Nikki Sixx is plagued with past anxieties that he never could find the courage to confront. He’d seen and done it all but when it came to Ruby Moon, he’d always felt he had unfinished business. Now, years after their tumultuous relationship had seemingly come to an end, Nikki finds himself compulsively recounting memories and asking questions only she would have the answers to.  total word count : 20,586

Prologue One : Red When I See You Two : Attention, Affection Three : Think About What You Know Four : Patience Five : Different Between Us

Requests Requests featuring Motley Crue, Guns n Roses Description: Pick a boy from Motley Crue or Guns n Roses and a number from one of these prompt lists and I’ll write a short scene or one shot for you. Make sure to let me know which list you pick from! Include any details you may want. Smut Prompts Fluff/Angst Prompts Misc. Prompts   Finished Requests: 

Smut Collection 18+ Angst/Fluff Collection (Coming Soon) Misc. Collection (Coming Soon) Upcoming Edge of Seventeen: Coming Soon Rating: 15+ Pairing: Tommy Lee/F. OC Description: Nikki believes in magic, but Tommy’s not so sure. Nikki tells him to see a fortune teller on the outskirts of town. In her patchwork tent, she lets him in on a secret only she knows. For a price. Be Your Dog: Coming Soon Rating: Everyone Pairing: Nikki Sixx/N.B. OC Description: Nikki’s never really cared for anyone else before, so when he finds himself risking life and limb for his new, silent friend, he had to wonder why he was starting to care now. 

#motley crue #the dirt #fan fiction #fan fic #80s #hair metal #guns n roses #fanfic #nikki sixx #tommy lee #vince neil #douglas booth #mick mars #colson baker #mgk #machine gun kelly #motley crue fan fiction #motley crue fan fic #imagines #imagine #guns n roses imagine #motley crue imagine #requests #guns n roses requests #motley crue requests

[toria-lilith]

Smoke and Roses - A Douglas Booth!Nikki Sixx fan fiction (chapter one)

A/N - Hi guys! So I made a post about this a few days ago but I decided, since I finally remembered the fucking password to this blog, that I’d rework some of the writing and plot points in Smoke and Roses, and republish it! I really hope you enjoy more this time round! 

Fic Summary: Holland Van-Ness is a PR manager. At only twenty three years old, she is smart, sharp and straight edge; and the best in the business at what she does. But when she gets involved with the reckless Motley Crue, her life changes forever.

DISCLAIMER:: I would like start by saying I do not condone any of the actions portrayed by any member of Motley Crue, any member of their crew, or any OC. This work is fictitious, and is in no way meant to glamorise drug or alcohol abuse. ‘Smoke and Roses’ is based on the events of Netflix’s ‘The Dirt’, and the autobiography of the same name, and follows the both of them closely, and will include details regarding the aforementioned abuse that may be triggering to some readers. The timeline in this fic also differs slightly from real life and The Dirt. With all that being said, proceed with caution, and enjoy!

It was the ringing of the phone that awoke Holland.

In her grogginess, she seriously considered rolling back over and ignoring it, but just when she thought it was done, it started to ring again; long, and loud, and tearing her back from the comfort of sleep.

Holland groaned. She rolled begrudgingly out of bed and made her way across her bedroom, where her phone was hung upon the wall opposite her bed by the window. Whoever was calling her better have had a damn good reason to be bothering her at nine AM, and on a Saturday of all days.

“Hello?” She said tiredly into the receiver, running a hand back through her dark blonde hair to push it back from her face, “Holland Van-Ness speaking.”

“Ahh, Holly,” a voice, irritatingly cheerful for the time of day, greeted her on the other end. “It’s Doc Mghee.”

Well, that certainly peaked her interest, and Holland was suddenly wide awake. Though she had known Doc for years, he rarely called for a chat, which could only mean one thing; he had a job for her. “Doc, good to hear from you,” she responded warmly, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

It had been a year or so since Holland had last spoken to the infamous manager. He had been a close friend of her Father’s before he passed away, and had been the one to help her break into the music industry when she was a mere eighteen years old. That had been five years ago; and Holland was eternally grateful. She owed a massive amount of her success to Doc. “Tell me,” he said, “how soon are you able to get to LA?”

Holland raised an eyebrow at the question even though Doc couldn’t see her. “Doc, if I’m going to make a trip to LA, I should know what it’s about.”

Doc chuckled. “I’m getting to it. I’ve found you a band.”

“Oh yeah?” Holland had expected that, of course. She balanced the phone between her ear and her shoulder and reached over to her dresser to fish for a notebook and pen. “And… what band might this be?”

“You’re not going to like it,” Doc chuckled again, and Holland didn’t like the way he seemed to be deliberately avoiding answering her question. “But just hear me out, alright? I think this might be just the challenge you’ve been looking for.”

Holland felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. Part of her thought she knew exactly who had had in mind, and he was right; she didn’t like it. “...Go on,” she pressed him after a moment.

Doc chuckled for a third time. He sounded unmistakably nervous. “Motley Crue.”

For a moment, Holland was silent as she digested this information, and then she laughed. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Holly-”

“Are you crazy? Doc, you seriously want me to fly all the way out to LA to be their PR manager? That’s career suicide!” 

“Holly,” he went on pleadingly, “these boys need help. If anyone can sort out their shit-show of a public image, it’s you. They’re on the verge of real success here, but my God, their image has got to be fixed. They need you, Holly. Just come to one show. If you think they’re beyond help, I’ll pay for your flight back. But just give them a chance. These kids need some sense talking into them and they don’t listen to me.”

“Kids?” Holland scoffed. “They’re not kids, they’re grown ass men!”

“Look, the choice is yours,” Doc sighed heavily, “can I expect to meet you at the airport or not?”

“Dammit Doc…” she groaned loudly, making it very clear to him exactly how she felt. “Fine. I’ll catch the next flight out.”

Holland heard Doc cheer. “Holland Van-Ness, you are a star!”

The line went dead as Doc hung up. That time, it was Holland’s turn to sigh. She’d heard stories about Motley Crue that were rivalled only by her nightmares. In the six months since they’d debuted, they’d singlehandedly caused more problems than any other band Holland had managed, and she had had to put up with some serious shit. From their very first gig, Holland had decided they were trouble, and she had sworn to herself that she was not going to get involved with them or any other band like them. Apparently, that was not a promise she was going to be keeping.

Holland padded sleepily into the bathroom, where she lingered for a moment to brush her teeth and pull a comb through her hair. She paused by the sink to take a good luck at her reflection. She looked a damn sight better than she had done five minutes ago, but there was an emotion in her eyes that Holland didn’t immediately recognize. She realised after a moment, that it was fear. 

She drew in a shaky breath. When she told Doc working with Motley was career suicide, she hadn’t been joking, and that thought scared her more than anything. If she didn’t have her job, what did she have?

She rushed back into her bedroom where she dressed quickly and threw a few essentials into a small suitcase. Anything else she needed, or had forgotten, she supposed she could buy once she landed in LA. Holland had worked with a menagerie of bands; from small, local acts to headlining musicians. She had helped all of them maintain a fairly respectable public image. But now, in the cab on her way to the airport to meet Motley freakin’ Crue, she couldn’t help but feel as though she was completely out of her depth.

She made her way through customs fairly quickly and within the hour, found herself in a less than comfortable aisle seat on a four hour flight from Miami to LA. That sinking feeling remade its home in her stomach as the plane started its ascension, and Holland found herself gripping the arm rest, so tightly her knuckles strained white against her skin. She was at least comforted by the thought that when she inevitably wanted to return home, she wouldn’t have to pay for the flight.

As the plane made its way through the sky towards LA, Holland tried to catch up on the sleep that Doc had so cruelly taken from her but it was nearly impossible over the roar of the engines and her own feelings of anxiety, and so eventually, she gave up and resigned herself to watching the clouds whizz by the window. Before she knew it, LA was upon her, and she found Doc waiting for her by the luggage claim.

When she saw her old family friend, all her frustration momentarily drained away and she embraced him in a tight, if not brief, hug. “It’s good to see you, Holly,” he told her with a smile.

“And you!” She said. She looked anxiously over his shoulder, expecting to see the band stroll through the duty free stores towards them. “They’re not joining us?” She asked him.

“Relax,” Doc assured her quickly, “they’re not here. I thought you’d want to get some brunch and get settled in first.”

Holland smiled weakly, reassured. “That sounds great.”

She collected her suitcase and allowed Doc to carry it out to the cab for her. She could have carried it herself given that it wasn’t too heavy, but she was exhausted after her busy morning, and was secretly grateful for his help. When they got into the back of the cab, Doc looked as though he was going to start with some pleasantries, but when he turned to Holland and saw the look on her face, he knew she was ready to talk business. He could tell she had a lot of questions, and motioned for her to start.

“Alright,” she said, folding her hands casually on her lap, “first and foremost, where am I going to be staying? You didn’t mention a hotel or anything in your phone call.”

Doc grimaced and didn’t say anything for what felt like an eternity. “Once again,” he said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, “you’re not going to like it.”

Holland’s face fell a mile. “Doc…” she deadpanned, “tell me I’m not going to be staying with them.” She looked at him intently but Doc said nothing, which only confirmed her fears. “Are you serious, Doc?” She asked him furiously, “working with them is going to be bad enough!”

“The money’s not bad,” he reminded her, hoping to diffuse the situation but she only scoffed.

“Yet clearly not good enough to buy me a hotel room,” she scowled. “Why the hell do I have to stay with them?”

“Holly, these boys aren’t like anyone you’ve ever worked with before,” Doc told her. “You’re going to have to work a lot harder with them than you have with any other band. You’re going to need them to trust you, Holly. And this is the way to do that.” He gave her a look that Holly recognized and understood almost instantly. It was the same pleading look her Father used when he wanted her to cooperate.

Even so, she groaned loudly. “Alright, fine,” she relented. “I’ll stay with them.” She sighed, turning to look out of the window to avoid seeing the triumphant grin on Doc’s face. “So, what are they like?”

“They’re…” Doc trailed off. He glanced out of his own window, as though the street passing by would inspire him. “They’re a handful,” he settled on eventually, “self centered. Arrogant. But, they’re talented as Hell, and I think they’ve got it in them to be good kids. They just need a little push in the right direction.”

Holland hummed in acknowledgement. She didn’t say anything else, but she didn’t need to. A beeping sound came from Doc’s pocket. He sighed, pulling out the small pager. A scowl passed over his face.

“Aw, crap,” he mumbled, “sorry, Holly. We might have to put that brunch on hold.” He slipped the pager back into his pocket and fed another address to the cab driver, different to the one he had initially given.

“Why?” Holland frowned, “what’s happened?”

“What’s happened is you’re about to start your job a couple hours early,” he said grimly, “there’s been a fight.”

Holland found herself rolling her eyes. “Of course there has,” she grumbled, though she didn’t know why she was surprised. When working with Motley Crue, she should have expected nothing less.

#motley crue #motley crue fan fiction #motley crue imagine #motley crue headcanon #the dirt #the dirt fan fiction #the dirt imagine #the dirt headcanon #nikki sixx #nikki sixx fan fiction #nikki sixx imagine #nikki sixx headcanon #tommy lee #tommy lee fan fiction #tommy lee imagine #tommy lee headcanon #mick mars #mick mars fan fiction #mick mars imagine #mick mars headcanon #vince neil #vince neil fan fiction #vince neil imagine #vince neil headcanon #douglas booth #douglas booth fan fiction #douglas booth imagine #douglas booth headcanon #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly fan fiction

[littlerockerao3]

Do you have a fan cast for Patrek Mallister? I just can’t quite picture him.

I can’t quite picture him either. We don’t see him much in canon and when I’m reading fics they way he looks in my mind changes basically every time.

If you look into his tag, there’s someone who fancasted him as Douglas Booth but idk I don’t really see it. It’ll be helpful if all the mutuals who’ve written about Patrek would share their fancasts so we could get a clearer idea of him ;)

But I’ve wandered a little around Pinterest and here’s how I think he could look like (these are not exactly how I imagine Patrek to be but oh well):

I do think he is attractive (Theon wouldn’t hook up with him otherwise, let’s be honest lmao) but maybe the middle one is a little too attractive. I guess a mix between young Rob Lowe (first picture) and Maxence Danet-Fauvel (last picture) could do. Add the hint of a beard too, just because.

But idk, suggestions anyone???

#last one looks like a young version of Penguin from Gotham #but apparently he was in Skam France so maybe eventually I’ll get to see at least one (1) Skam #I don’t know which one from which part of the world I want to watch but I’ll get there lmao #but anyway #asoiaf fancast #patrek mallister

[angrylizardjacket]

mouth full of white lies {Machine Gun Kelly} 1

1. you look like my next mistake

Summary: You’re Douglas Booth’s adopted little sister, a YouTuber moonlighting as an assistant on The Dirt. The fact that your brother’s the lead is a happy accident. Another happy accident? Getting drunk with MGK and becoming fast friends with him. Until, of course, everyone assumes you’re together. What better way to make everyone shut up then by agreeing. Sort of. Okay so you’re not really dating but you’ve got to convince your respective fans that you are. And the rest of the cast and crew. It’s okay, flirting is totally harmless. The feelings? Everything else that comes after? Less harmless.

A/N: we meant to be a much different, much shorter fic for @kellysimagines, but i hope you like it!! fake dating AU. reader is adopted, not blood related!! warnings for drunken-ness.

the brainstrust: @sataninsatin @silvertonguedserpent @juliarose21 @kellysimagines @estxxbritt @machine-gun-casie @siriuslymooned @harringtonstudios @misscharlottelee @narcvissa @hiworlditishumbleme @angelwarner28 @nevilles-insinuations @rumoured-whispers @mgkobsessed @edwardtriggerhandzz @suckerforbarnes @wastelcve @bakerkells @local-troubled-writer @freddiessmallnipples

----

The fact that you and your brother ended up working on the same project was purely coincidence, and that actually wasn’t a lie. Douglas had landed the role of a lifetime, Nikki Sixx in The Dirt, and was immediately up to his eyes in nondisclosure agreements. You, on the other hand, had been scrolling through Facebook when a friend of yours, Josy, who happened to be an assistant director who had been talking about a ‘huge project for Netflix she wasn’t allowed to discuss’ asked if you wanted to come onboard as her assistant, since you’d proven to be good under pressure and fast on your feet when she had still been filming student projects only a few years ago.

“Hello! Hello and welcome back, ducklings! Today is a ‘Get Ready With Me’ for my flight to New Orleans! Can you believe it? I’m working on a big project and I have to travel - they’re paying for my travel! I’m so excited! This is going to be such a fun project, even though I can’t tell you too much about it just yet. So to start with, I’m going to run you through my every-day shower routing.”

You hadn’t been at the table read, but you had been at rehearsals, had turned up on the first day looking all done up, excited and professional, only to be met with your brother in eyeliner. 

“Duck!” Of course he was elated to see you, grin splitting his face from ear to ear. He calls you by your childhood nickname, he always has, and already you can feel every pair of eyes on you, but you don’t care. The nickname had followed you through life, of course less than a day in the project and it was already spreading. 

Everything making sense after you mention Josy had gotten you the job. She was a mutual friend, had always been fond of the two of you.

“This,” you enthuse, clutching your clipboard to your chest, “this is what you’re doing? You’re doing the Motley Crue biopic?” You’re looking at him with stars in your eyes, your talented big brother, who seemed to bring you along for the ride in one way or another. 

And finally he can tell you about it, because damn it had felt like forever since the two of you had spoken simply because he’d been hiding the biggest news in his life from you. 

“Oi, Booths!” You hear Josy’s distinct voice the moment she steps in the rehearsal room, though she’s clearly smiling, “good to see you both, but Doug, I need you up and in the space; I’m running warm ups before we get started. Duck, could you go on a coffee run for me?” She asks it sweetly; she’d picked up the nickname for you years ago from Douglas, and of course it had stuck, not that you minded. With that you’re both off. 

You’d been so distracted by getting to talk to your brother, who had been early just as you had been - there’s something to be said for nature versus nurture, despite not sharing genetics, you certainly shared a sense of punctuality - that you hadn’t even seemed to notice the rest of the cast getting in. But they’re not your job; you just have to keep Josy happy, get her food and drinks when she requested it, and type out emails she dictates. Easy. 

Of course this isn’t how things stay; you’re in close proximity to the cast for at least five hours a day, in a corner somewhere working on your own emails or scrolling through Twitter when you weren’t needed, but always around. For the first few days, no-one pays you much attention. 

“Hello! Hello and welcome back, ducklings! It’s my first week with The Project, and I’ve finally got a day off; it’s Sunday so I’m dragging my brother to a whole bunch of places you lovely people have recommended for me! Wish us luck!”

You’ve been in front of a camera for about as long as Douglas has, though never quite in the same way. You’d tried your hand at all sorts of jobs, both in the entertainment industry, and not, and while you enjoyed the entertainment industry well enough, you found that you had a passion for making your own videos. Your YouTube channel, which was almost at a million followers, had been going strong for almost four years, as you made videos about the lesser known roles in the industry. Sometimes your brother was in your videos, but often he wasn’t, and you felt lucky that you never really needed to use him for clout. He was just Doug, and your followers knew that if he was in a video, it’s because he wanted to be, but he wasn’t the reason the video was being made.

Douglas was nothing if not supportive, and when Sunday rolls around and when production gave you and the main cast the day off, while the second unit team worked with some of the secondary characters, you were both more than happy to take advantage of the freedom.

“Dude I have such a long list of places we could go, I don’t even know where to begin - haven’t you been here before?” You pressed the phone to your ear, frowning at the two outfits you had laid out on the bed before you.

“Yeah, for like,” Douglas hums at the other end of the line, “like press things, and like a week and a half for some Jupiter Ascending stuff-”

“Did that even make it -?”

“No, it got cut -” somewhere behind him, the milk frother of a coffee machine squeals, and someone’s indistinct name is called.

“Get me a drink,” you tell him, instinctively.

“Get one yourself!” He half laughs, and you hear him cover the receiver and muffle his thanks as he presumably picks up his drink.

“Who are you talking to?” When he uncovers the phone, you can hear another familiar voice; it’s Colson, you’re pretty sure. You know him from rehearsals, and a bit from his music, but not much beyond that.

“My sister,” Douglas offers, flatly, to which you make a noise of indignance. 

“Ask him if he’s ever been to New Orleans -” you instruct, putting the phone on speaker and opting to change into your more practical jeans and sweater option.

“She wants to know if you’ve ever been to New Orleans -” He relays easily, and you hear a snort of laughter.

“Of course I have.” You hear Colson say.

“Of course he has -” Douglas tells you, as if worried that you hadn’t heard.

“Ask him -” You begin, but you’re cut off.

“We’re across the road,” Douglas tells you, and you know without having to see him that he’s rolling his eyes at you. Audi ambassador, philanthropist, movie star, and occasional model Douglas Booth had the composure of a saint for everyone but you, though neither of you would have it any other way, “just come over here yourself.”

“Get me a drink?” You asked hopefully, and you heard him sigh, knowing you’d already won.

Your favourite drink is waiting for you when you arrive, as are both Douglas, and Colson, sitting hunched over in a booth with dark glasses. You can’t help but chuckle.

“Booths in a booth.” You mutter, and at least that gets their attention. Sliding in next to Douglas, you make eye contact with Colson as he lowers his glasses and frowns at you, just a little, as you sip your drink.

He looks between the two of you for a moment; you don’t share a whole heap of similarities with him, but after a beat, he nods, and gives you a curious look.

“Alright, good to meet you,” he paused, narrowed his eyes for a moment, “you’re part of the crew, aren’t you?” Is what he focuses on.

“Assistant to the AD,” you nod, before adding, “Duck, you might know me as Duck,” and that he seems to recognise at least. Colson hums thoughtfully, nodding and sliding his glasses back up his nose as he leans back against the seat. Drinking your drink with a surprising focus, you hand over your list of recommended places to Douglas, who nods approvingly, but quickly turns it over to Colson. He makes short work of it, crosses quite a few spots off, adds a few of his own, and takes pause to look up from it.

“Why are we going all over town? Why not just like... chill and maybe go over lines and shit? Isn’t that what we’re meant to do?”

“Didn’t take you for the cautious type,” you tell him with a teasing edge to your voice. Colson fixes you with a half-smile, handing the phone back pointedly.

“I’m not, I just don’t want you to narc on me if we start at bourbon street and spend our precious Sunday getting drunk in The Big Easy,” he matches your tone, sitting back with a posture so relaxed it’s almost scripted, and you’re pretty sure you like his nerve. 

“I’m...” you hesitate a little, “a YouTuber,” and though Colson winces a little, it still stings. With so much stigma surrounding your profession, even in 2018, it’s hard to explain to people what you do for a living and not receive criticism.

“So you’re gonna catch all the stupid shit we do on camera?” He asks, and oh, so that’s what he’s worried about. You let out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.

“If you don’t wanna be in it, then you don’t have to be; anyways, I’ll edit out all the bits that break our NDAs,” shrugging, you shoot for casual, and Colson looks like he’s actually weighing up his options. 

“You still haven’t told him you’re not a narc,” Douglas stage whispers to you, which makes your expression sour and Colson laugh.

“You’re a narc,” you hiss back, reflexively. 

“We’re method acting,” Douglas offers, aiming for that same casual confidence that Colson was exuding, but not quite getting there.

“Fuck yeah, dude, that’s the spirit,” Colson’s expression breaks out into a grin, and he offers Douglas a fist bump, which your brother gladly returns. Then Colson’s looking back at you, bright and excited rather than judgmental; “you in?”

“We’ve gained a newcomer! A tour guide, if you will, Mister-” and you turn where you’re filming yourself and the two men beside you, the camera shaking in your grip as you head down the street, and your voice lowers, “what do you want me to introduce you as-” but he buts you off, moves around Douglas, who’s laughing quietly to himself, and grabs the camera.

“It’s MGK, motherfuckers! We ‘bout to hit Bourbon Street - we’ll bookend this shit; open with it and close with it, we’ll be back here tonight!” He sticks his tongue out, and throws out the devil sign with his hands, before turning the camera to catch Douglas laughing, and you looking both excited and concerned.

“We will?” 

When you ask about Daniel and Iwan, the other two members of the film’s Motley Crue, all you get is vague answers; in time, they’ll all come to be good friends, but it’s their first Sunday off, and no-one begrudges them for them choosing to take time for themselves. Douglas and Colson, however, had decided early on to try and make their friendship both on and off screen as authentic as possible. 

“Fuck, man, Tommy’s like, opening line in the book is that he and Nikki were like an old married couple, for like twenty years, dude, that kind of connection is insane!” Colson is nothing if not good casting, waxing poetic at a diner he’d spotted around midday, your little group already tipsy and hungry since your less than substantial cafe breakfast.

“I give this bacon and egg roll,” Douglas is in his own little world, only aware that you had your camera pointing at him as he devoured his lunch with a surprisingly messy gusto, “four-and-a-half out of five cups.” He announced with a mouth full of food, using the rating system you’d devised earlier in the day. After a moment, he swallowed, before turning to Colson, expression serious, “I’ve known you for about a week, and as much as I like you, I don’t think I want to marry you.” 

“No, that’s the thing, man, twenty years is a long-ass time to know someone; I just, man, by the end of this, we are gonna be tight, okay? That’s all I want. Bros, you know?” And he wrapped his arms around Douglas, pulling him in for a hug, and your brother nodded seriously, wrapping his arm around Colson in return.

“Bros.” He confirmed, giving the camera a very pointed look. You make sure the camera catches when you flip him off. All it does is set off all three of you laughing.

It’s an incredibly fun day, the three of you traipsing around, visiting sound studios and memorials and sites that paid homage to the great city you found yourselves in. You know you shouldn’t be surprised, but Colson’s rather reverential when it comes to the history of music, and when you look back at your list, you see the sites he’s added all have to do with it. Honestly, you’re a little endeared. It’s also a fun night, the parts of it you can remember, stumbling, leaning on one another. There’s bound to be something about it in the gossip rags in the following days, not that the three of you were badly behaved, just that they had both stopped caring about avoiding paparazzi, and, alright, being a little bit raucous. 

In bed by two, you know you’re gonna have a killer hang over for your nine-am start, but it was a fun night, and you’re looking forward to reviewing your footage.

“I give this bourbon from - hey, where’s this bourbon from?” You turn to look over your shoulder, and the cup in your hand slops over with drink, splashing out onto the street, not that you notice. Douglas is talking to someone running a stall, but Colson joins you, wrapping an arm around you.

“We give this bourbon a cup out of cup,” he announces, and you nod seriously.

“Cup out of cup.” You agree, and lift up the cup, before an idea lights up your face. “Drink it with me, like same cup, try and drink it with me.” It’s a terrible idea, your cheeks pressed together, tongues out as if it would help you drink better -

“You guys look like incredibly stupid,” Douglas calls out from out of frame, finally noticing the two of you. You go to respond, but that’s when Colson tips up the cup and it manages to hit neither of your mouths, instead it splashes against where your cheeks were pressed together, and all down your clothes. “Told you.” Douglas adds. 

Colson licks the bourbon from your cheek with a grin, but moves on quickly. You look around shiftily once the boys had left, still holding the camera with one hand, and you pull the hem of your shirt to your mouth, sucking liquor from it as you follow behind them wearing a pleased little smile.

Honestly, things get more lively in more ways than one, after that. Now that Colson knows you, it seems the rest of the cast do too. Slowly but surely you’re developing a friendship with both Iwan and Daniel, though Colson’s been surprisingly quick to treat you like an old friend.

“Trial by fireball whiskey,” is what he tells you after rehearsals one Saturday night. You’re doing a dinner run, picking up pizzas before the four of them go out, with you as their chaperone, as directed by Josy. 

“Speaking of,” though you can’t help but grin a little at the fact that you’d earned his favour so easily, “I’ve almost finished the video.” 

“Oh God,” he groans, laughs, and covers his face with his hands, “do I even wanna see it?”

“It’s not that damning, I promise, I need to stay monetized, you know?” You laugh, but it’s a sad truth you’ve had to deal with a lot since choosing to become a YouTuber. 

“I’m not exactly PG-13,” Colson’s smirking when you look at him, and his gaze meets yours and what does that tone mean and why are you reading into this all of a sudden.

“So I suppose you were on your best behavior that night?” You ask, voice innocent, though you can feel yourself getting flustered. His smirk grows wider.

“Only for Douglas’ sake.” 

And then your name’s called for the pizzas and the mood vanishes and Colson just asks if you can send him a link when you put up the video; you tell him you can send him it before it’s published, just to make sure he’s happy with it, and he gives you this genuine smile that you feel warm your heart, just a little.

But it’s when you publish the video that all hell breaks loose. 

Having a famous brother is one thing. Having a famous brother is allowed. Knowing someone famous is clout chasing, is gold digging, is not allowed according to the internet. Making someone famous laugh is downright illegal, surely he can do better than you. Because with the views come assumptions, and your burgeoning crush aside, they’re baseless. You’ve known him for three weeks. Twenty one and a half days in total. Flirting aside, the internet doesn’t know shit. 

It still hurts. 

The video kind of blows up, because everyone loves relatively harmless drunk celebrity shenanigans, and Colson’s kind of been blowing up recently between his music, and his upcoming film Bird Box. So now there’s invasive questions and death threats filling up your DMs on every platform, and along with a new influx of followers comes a new wave of toxicity. You know how to deal with people accusing you of using your brother for clout, but this is a whole other level. 

“So you’re with Colson,” Douglas looks smug when you answer your door on the day after the video drops. Though quick to defend yourself, there’s already tears in your eyes having had little sleep from the stress of everything that had happened, his smug aura drops and he wraps you up in a hug. “Hey, I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” his voice is soothing and level as he walks you back into your room, closing your door.

“You’re an ass,” you tell him, sulkily, but you hug him back.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you in earnest.

“I’m gonna get fired-”

“You’re not gonna get fired, Duck, you didn’t break your NDA, you didn’t break YouTube’s terms of service, you bleeped out all the swearing, you had an alcohol disclaimer at the start; this is the fans and the media blowing things way out of proportion.” He assures as you sniffle, still hugging him tightly. 

“They’re gonna fire me,” you murmur, voice a soft, sad whine.

“They’re not.” 

This is the point at which your phone starts to go off; someone’s calling you, and the caller ID says it’s Colson. He must have just woken up.

“He okay-ed the video, didn’t he?” Douglas asks, and you nod. “Then he won’t be mad; he’s dealt with this shit more than us, you know?” He gently pushes you towards the phone where it’s sitting on your bed, and steps back. “I’m gonna give you and your boyfriend some space,” and it’s teasing again, his grin sharp as he ducks out of the way of the pillow you throw.

“Asshole!” You yell after him. Once’s he’s out of the room, however, you take a moment to compose yourself before picking up the phone. 

“Hey, I’m so sorry -” you start, but Colson seems surprised to hear your apology.

“Nah, Ducky, don’t worry about it, I called to apologise to you; if I’m ever seen with a chick everyone thinks I’m dating her, I should have realised, I should have -”

“No, I mean, I can’t post a video with a guy who’s not my brother without five different tea channels claiming I’m in love,” you laugh, trying to hide your distress. An awkward silence follows, in which you sniffle, and reopen your laptop.

“I am really sorry,” Colson says, and there’s regret in his voice that you hadn’t expected. “If I could get them to all shut the fuck up, I would; you shouldn’t be all torn up over my shit.”

Something about what he says plays in your mind over the next few days, watching, subdued in rehearsals. The rest of the cast ask if your alright, sympathizes with you, all of them having had run-ins with the media in one way or another. Josy, in her own way, sympathizes too, in that she doesn’t treat you any differently, she doesn’t pity you. She, like you, like all of you, knows it will blow over. Probably.

“Hello,” your tone is so damn subdued, “hello and welcome back. I’m here today to address some rumours you may have heard. To all my new ducklings, hello. And to all my old, hello again.”

“They’re not gonna believe you if you deny it,” is how you greet Colson, barging into his room after rehearsals on a Wednesday. It had been a good day, things had calmed down somewhat online, but still gossip rags were still going hard, seeing as the paparazzi had managed to spot the two of you together during a break in rehearsals. 

“Yeah, no, they generally don’t,” he says flatly, frowning a little as he closes the door, running with whatever train of thought you were on.

“Then don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Deny it.”

Silence.

“Are you asking me out?” He actually wears a little smile at that, but you fix him with a serious look, not even a hint of a joke in your tone or expression. 

“Yes, because we’re twelve,” you rolled your eyes, tone so flat it’s almost comical, before you snap “- fucking no I’m not asking you out -” the thought had crossed your mind several times before shit had hit the fan, but there was no way in hell he’d genuinely want you now; you both came with a mob of crazed fans, and a sweet, if fake relationship with an amicable end would be far easier to manage than crazed rumors, “I’m fake asking you out. If you’d have me, I want to date you to get our fans to calm down.”

“How?!” He splutters, both confused and overwhelmingly amused. “That’d never work.”

“If we tell them we’re together, and we’re both working on projects, the industry won’t see either of as distracted by outside sources; we talk up how we’re supporting one another through this process, and that if our fans ever wanted what’s best for us, they’d support us too.”

“You’d...” he swallows hard, though he’s certainly contemplating the thought, “you’d still get death threats, you know that-”

“I get death threats when I don’t post feet pics;” you snorted dismissively, and his eyebrows rose, “I can handle them, but if you said this made you happy, well I think a majority of your fans would calm down. Stan-culture is weird and frightening, but a lot of them, most of them,” you corrected yourself, “want what’s best for you.”

“You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?” And he’s smiling now, watching you with something that almost resembles admiration in his eyes.

“Tell me you haven’t had a hundred tweets yelling about how you’ve corrupted me,” you cock your hip, and he casts a glance to his phone, before admitting he has, “well if I go back to posting non-drunk content with you in it, they’ll die down, I guarantee it.”

“What about your brother?”

“He’ll support me no matter what, it’ll be more believable if he, you know, believes it.” You hold out your hand, waiting. There’s an almost intimidating spark in your eyes, a focus that Colson hasn’t seen before. “Are you in?”

“Yeah, fuck it, why not,” and he shakes your hand, firm, grinning brightly.

“I’m here to address some rumours regarding my...” you took a deep breath, “boyfriend.”

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk x reader #colson baker #colson baker x reader #colson baker imagine #douglas booth #douglas booth imagine #the dirt #the dirt cast #the dirt cast imagine #the dirt image #the angry lizard writes

[livingmybestfictionallife]

Live Wire --The Dirt--

Little something I’ve been working on due to a lack of Douglas Booth!Nikki Sixx fics.

Summary: Wren Ledden, Tommy’s best friend from high school has had a rough life and she intends to keep the nitty gritty details of her suffrage to herself until the day she dies. Only Tommy has gotten her to open up about a small portion of her troubles, and it’s only Tommy who she trusts with her life. That is until her life gets turned around sneaking into a concert one night...the same night Motley Crue is born.

Since westward expansion and the Gold Rush, all anyone in the United States could think about were the promises that seemed to lie buried within the jungled streets of chaos in California. It was where everyone wanted to be—the ocean was beautiful, Hollywood was booming, the mountains up north were to die for, and the music scene was evolving before the world’s eyes. It seemed like the perfect place for anyone with a dream and the will-power to achieve it; however, for Wren Ledden, California was a cage that, since a young age, she promised herself she’d find her way out of.

Wren was smart, driven, and talented, but never seemed to be in the right place at the right time, and as everyone knows, timing is everything. School was all too easy for her and she even managed to complete all of her gen-ed courses for college while she was still a junior in high school. By the time she graduated with her high school diploma, she had her associate’s degree and a ‘the-sky’s-the-limit’ attitude toward the rest of her life. Sure, she didn’t have the money to attend a fancy college and she didn’t know what the hell she even wanted to study, but she knew two things: one, she’d worked her ass off throughout high school, and two, she deserved a break.

“Why the hell do you study so much?” Wren heard her one and only friend from high school grumble as she laid on her back and read from a Rolling Stone magazine.

“Do you even know what the hell I’m reading?” she huffed as she tossed the magazine at the lanky boy’s face.

“Rolling Stone,” he commented with an airy tone as he stole a glance away from his reflection to look at the magazine that rested beside him. “Cool. I just assumed you were being a nerd.” The all too familiar snarky laugh she had heard resonate through her friend’s lungs since middle school echoed against the walls of his room.

“Shut up, asshole.” Wren’s lips curled up into a smirk as she flipped over from her resting position on his bed to sitting cross-legged and watching her friend primp. “I still can’t believe you’re going to this concert with what’s her nuts and not me,” Wren sighed in exuberant frustration as her eyes drifted from her friend to the posters that littered the walls of his room.

“Oh, come on, Wren, give her a chance; I bet you’d like her! She’s really cool,” he whined as he turned around from the mirror and turned down the tape playing over the speakers.

“I bet,” Wren said dryly as her mind drifted from her friend’s new girlfriend to the band he was taking her to go see tonight. “I’m just pissed because I turned you on to London in the first place, Tommy.”

“And I know we always said we’d go together, but I’m trying to get her to give them a chance.”

“So you’re taking someone who may not even like the show over me, your best friend and musical connoisseur?” Wren shot Tommy a pained look and pretended to clutch her heart as she flopped backwards on his bed.

“Look, if it means that much to you, I can cancel tonight and we can go.” Tommy’s big heart was something that had drawn Wren to him in the first place. Throughout high school, she was an outcast; Wren had a different upbringing from many of her classmates, including Tommy, which led to her inability to trust others. Middle school band brought Wren the only friend she’d ever need, someone to share her interests, who was able to break down her walls, and whose family gave her what she lacked in her own familial life. Tommy’s chaotic extroversion saved Wren’s dry-humored introverted time and time again. Tommy had always been fond of Wren and he even found her cynicism humorous, albeit at first he was only interested in dating her, but as they grew closer as friends, both Wren and Tommy realized they were bonded for life.

“Go on your date, Tommy,” Wren sighed as she watched the slightest hint of disappointment cross his eyes.

“Meet me at the diner afterwards?” He asked with big, begging eyes. “I want you to meet her.” Wren considered her options: spend another night crashing in Tommy’s parents’ guest room and annoying his little sister, Athena, or meeting what would probably be another week-long girlfriend he had fallen head-over-heels for.

“Sure,” she sighed only to catch his infectious smile growing onto her lips. “But that’s only if I don’t decide to sneak into the show behind you like we did with that punk band last month.”

“Why the fuck don’t you just come with us?” Tommy asked as he jumped up from where he was sitting on the floor and spun toward where Wren was still perched on his bed.

“I’m not dressed for the strip,” she said as she tossed her arms out to the side and examined her attire. A black leather jacket hung from Wren’s shoulders as a hand-made cropped black shirt dangled around her torso, baring just a portion of her midriff as black leather pants hugged her legs and chunky boots were laced around her feet.

“Yes you are, and if we didn’t already know this,” he said and gestured between the two “would never work, I’d even say you were hot.” Tommy said as he pulled his own black leather jacked over the mustard yellow t-shirt he wore, and then stuffed his drumsticks through the loop of his studded belt.

“These are just my normal clothes; you know the slutty shit girls wear out there,” Wren continued, trying her hardest to keep from becoming a third wheel on Tommy’s day.

“I’ll even pay for you!” her friend continued to beg for her companionship.

“So you’re taking both of us out tonight?” Wren huffed with a cocky and teasing smirk on her face. As Tommy thought through his proposition, he raised his eyebrows and pointed at his best friend with a curious and playful look spreading over his face, however Wren was quick to shut his wandering thoughts down. “Just sneak off for a bit once you get there and come to that janky fucking door in the men’s room to let me in.”

“I can do that!” Tommy said as he opened his bedroom door and ushered for Wren to come with him down the hall and into the kitchen. As she paced through the halls of a home she’d come to know all too familiarly, she tried to avert her eyes from all signs that reminded her she lived there. She hated having to rely on anyone besides herself. Her own ability to provide for herself was all she had ever known. Even when she still lived at home, her parents were too self-indulged and too busy fighting one another to notice their only child. At eighteen, they threw her to the wolves, ready to be rid of her—the thing that in their eyes kept them from having the life they’d wanted—and claimed she would never make anything of herself. Thankfully, upon hearing of her misfortune nearly ten months after the fact, Tommy called bullshit on Wren’s parents and his family opened their home to her. Wren was beyond grateful for their generosity, but overwhelmingly guilty for even finding herself in the position to put someone out in such a damning way.

“You’re not a burden to my folks,” Tommy would always say. “They love you like the daughter they never had; because their real daughter is nice and sweet, and not anywhere near as fucking metal as you.”

Tommy and Wren’s friendship was an odd one—everyone who saw the pair together could see that much. He was a colorful person who expressed everything outwardly, whereas Wren was often described as dark and introspective. At shows, Tommy would be flailing his limbs around, letting the music speak to his body while Wren let the rhythm and lyrics fill her soul. She’d tap her foot and bang her head on occasion, but would never lunge herself into the mosh pit and crowd-surf among other fans as Tommy had on more than one occasion. However unlikely the friendship maybe, it was strong and, on many occasions, too strong for Tommy’s dates to handle. Girls who dated Tommy never understood how he could be so close to Wren without wanting to fuck her, and their suspicion always got the best of them. This always led to an end in the relationship after a huge fight over an ultimatum between Wren or whatever flavor of the week he was tasting.

Regardless of the Bass family’s insistence on Wren’s presence being nothing but welcome, she found herself ridden by guilt each night she ate their food and took up space in their home. Getting out of the house and going to see London with Tommy—even if they wouldn’t be together during the show—could be exactly what Wren needs to get out of the mental funk she’d been finding herself returning to for months now.

Wren was fine with the sneaking around and the ridiculous plots Tommy would find himself cooking up on how to avoid “the Wren issue” with his dates while also making sure he’d have a good time if his date abandoned him at a show. It wasn’t uncommon for many of the girls Tommy brought around to cower away from the rock scene, and as much of a people person as Tommy was, he hated being at shows by himself. Tonight wouldn’t be the first time Wren hung around at a concert waiting for her best friend’s date to bail at the sight of a fight, and she knew it wouldn’t be the last. Overall, she had fun: it was fun to sneak into clubs to watch her favorite bands, it was fun knowing that she was Tommy’s ride or die—the one who he knew would always be there to keep him company—and it was a hell of a lot more fun when the stuck up bitches bailed and she got to break out of her shell a tiny bit and join Tommy in the mosh pit for a song or two. Deep down, in the pit of her stomach, as she held her arms close and tried to ignore the subtly cool breeze floating through the Los Angeles streets, she knew tonight was going to be fun too.

“Fuck, Tommy, where are you?” she grunted. Wren leaned her back against the brick wall and kicked the bathroom door with the heel of her boot, impatient as to why it was taking him so long to come and get her. She accounted for the five-minute drive to his girlfriend’s house, and the five-minute drive back, but after standing in the chilly air for over twenty minutes, she allowed herself to grow impatient at Tommy’s tardiness. She knew in reality he was probably still waiting in the long ass line out front, so she tried to suppress the temper that usually came with her impatience. Tilting her head up and gazing at the sliver of sky between the buildings surrounding her, Wren let the cool air flow over her hot cheeks. Just as she was about to step away from the wall and peer around the corner to see if she could spot Tommy’s leopard printed ass in the sea of people waiting to get in, she heard the rusty creak of the alley door open and poked her head inside.

“Finally,” she sighed as she made the small jump from the ground up through the slightly elevated bathroom floor. “I thought you forgot about me Tomm—you’re not Tommy.” The bar was always dark and dingy, and the bathrooms were even more so than the rest of the establishment, however she was always easily able to distinguish her friend from other men. A tall man, no more than three or four years older than her, stood before her with a cigarette between his lips and a lighter in his left hand as his right hand grasped what appeared to be a glass of either whiskey or bourbon on the rocks. He wore a dark leather jacket with what appeared to be a dark shirt underneath and dark leather pants. His overall demeanor seemed to be in stark contrast of Tommy, and Wren straightened her posture and tone from hunched over joking banter to straight-line intimidation standoff.

“What the fuck are you doing?” the man asked once the alley door closed. He assumed that she wouldn’t want a confrontation and that she’d retreat from the venue out of submission or intimidation, but Wren’s eyebrows quickly stitched into a skeptical glare as she stood her ground. The man before her still had his lighter flicked open and a small flame burned in his hand while his hazel eyes peered down at the young woman. He tried to stand up straighter in order to intimidate her into explaining herself, but he got a sense nothing would make her stand down. She had fierce, cold eyes that seemed to cut right through him and in an instant of impatience, he opened his mouth to repeat himself, only to have her speak over him.

“What does it look like?” she scoffed and folded her arms over her chest. The man’s narrowed eyes, tense jaw, and teased, long black hair was nothing more than an obstacle keeping her from having a good time at a show she’d been dying to see.

“Looks like you’re sneaking in,” the man said with an arrogant smirk as he cocked his head to the left and took in the woman’s appearance.

“Congratu-fucking-lations,” Wren smirked, “you regular Sherlock Holmes.” Dropping her arms to her side, Wren took a long step forward to side-step the man in front of her only for him to take a quick step to his left and puff out his chest. “Come on, man,” she sighed. “You can’t be that much of a dick!”

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart,” he smirked devilishly. He was certain the woman would crack and turn away to save herself the humiliation of continuing to linger in a men’s room, but the self-assured grin that traveled onto her face only caused his eyebrows to furrow in curiosity.

“You may be a dick, but you’re nothing but talk,” Wren stated and placed her hands gently on her hips, allowing herself to be in as vulnerable of a position as she could be in a situation like this in order to show how unafraid she was of the man before her. “I, on the other hand, have the balls to follow through. So, thanks for the, whatever the fuck public decency lecture that was, but I’m going to step around you now and watch what I expect to be a kick ass show that I’m, frankly, too damn broke to afford to see the ‘appropriate’ way,” Wren stated while using air quotes. “I’m also too damn broke to afford a drink, even in a hole like this, so,” without any warning, she slipped her fingers around the glass the man was holding, plucked it from his hand, and sent the burning, icy liquor down her throat in one large gulp, “thanks for the Jack, even if it is a pansy-ass whiskey if you ask me.” With nothing more than a light shoulder check, Wren took a long stride past the man standing in her way, and carried herself high as she paced past the line of men at the urinals watching the scene unfold, before she emerged into the bar.

It only took her about ten minutes to find Tommy in the masses of concert goers, and throughout the night, she managed to keep him in her sights just in case his date bailed; although at the end of the night, she was still pressed against the back of the venue, being forced to squint in order to make out which band was playing, while Miss Blondie hung close to Tommy. Wren had to hand it to the girl, she wasn’t like the other chicks Tommy brought to shows in hopes of turning them on to the rock scene. Even when the bassist of London threw a heavy hitting punch at the band’s lead singer, she didn’t run off like Wren had expected. Sure, she jumped back in awe as the rest of the crowd shouted either obscenities of shock or encouragement, but she didn’t run, and that deserved at least a little respect from Wren.

As bouncers rushed toward the stage to separate the two band members, other employees of the bar acted as ushers to escort the numerous patrons of various stages of intoxication out of the venue and into the streets to have a better chance of breaking up the fight without a brawl. Wren tried to call out for Tommy’s attention, but a slight panic came over her as she noticed a cop picking out another sleazy freeloader who had snuck in through one of the other weak points in security. Wren retreated the way she had come in—through the dank and abysmal restroom, leading into a dingy alley—and then disappeared into the crowd that dispersed along the sidewalk of the Sunset Strip.

Continue Reading: Next Chapter

#douglas booth nikki sixx #douglas booth the dirt #douglas booth!nikki sixx #the dirt douglas booth #the dirt fanfic nikki #the dirt #douglas booth!nikki sixx fic #douglas booth #the dirt fanfic #the dirt fandom #douglas booth fanfic

[getthefckouttahere]

Two Hearts Fixed, One’s Still Broken

prompt/thank you to @lifesasickjoke​: nikki cheats on the reader (his fiancée) with tommy’s fiancée, tommy and the reader fall in love and get married. nikki is super upset and that’s why he did the whole drug thing at the wedding pairing: tommy x reader (with a nikki x reader history) A/N: hey this is my first fic for the dirt/mötley crüe so yeah i hope y’all like it and yeah, i guess reader replaces heather here. warnings: mentions of cheating, swearing, mentions of drugs, angst and fluff

“Hey Y/N, d’ya know where Nikki is? I want him to meet Roxie and my parents.” Tommy asked her, giddy like a child on Christmas.

Man, he looked so happy and so excited to get married, she just wished that Nikki would show the same enthusiasm toward her.

Sure, it wasn’t all his fault, seeing as the only other woman in his life had been nothing but a bitch to him. She understood that he couldn’t trust anyone, because the two people that he was supposed to love had let him down, but it still made her sad that he always spoke to she so coldly.

The day he asked her to marry him was both the happiest day of her life and the most relieved she had ever felt in the course of her relationship. She found out that he really did love her, it was just difficult for him to show that strong of an emotion. Because he didn’t know how to.

“He’s probably still in his dressing room getting ready. Follow me.” she replied, walking down the hallway with him following suit.

“You ready for the wedding?” she asked him, grinning when a little squeal emitted from him.

“I’m so pumped! I really like her, dude, and I’m totally ready to spend the rest of my life with her. Maybe even see some little Tommy’s running around the house, y’know?” he snickered.

Tommy really was ecstatic, but what made her feel bad was that his fiancee, Roxie, wasn’t all that interested in him. She had met her before…she really wasn’t that great. Pretty, but that’s where the good qualities end. It just seemed like she wanted to marry him because he was famous and he could buy her things.

It hurt to see her friend so blinded by love, that he can’t see how much he’s being manipulated and taken advantage of.

“Eww, that’s gross! I don’t wanna think about that!” she said, giving him a playful shove on the shoulder.

“What, it’s a perfectly normal part of life! Don’t you have the same thoughts with Nikki?”

“Well, yeah. But honestly if it were to happen, it’d probably be by accident. That man doesn’t make love, he fucks.”

“Fuck that’s disgusting, Y/N!” he laughed.

“Payback, asshole.” she giggled, deciding that her goal was now to make him as uncomfortable as she can.

“I’m serious, man. The noises he makes are basically inhumane-”

“You mean like the ones that are coming from his room right now?”

They were standing outside Nikki’s dressing room door and she only payed attention to what Tommy said right when he mentioned it.

And he was right, those were normally the sounds she’d bring out of him on a regular night.

But now, it was some other girl doing the job for her.

And it wasn’t just some other girl.

“Hey, those female sounds seem familiar too.” Tommy commented, his voice turning softer. She assumed that he had put two and two together.

He knocked on Nikki’s dressing room door and deepened his voice to make himself unrecogniseable.

“Yo Nik, you ready? Tommy wants you.”

They heard the shuffling of feet and what she supposed was them clambering to find their clothes, accompanied by muffled curses.

The door sprang open and confirmed all of their suspicions.

“Shit.” Roxie breathed out, freezing when her eyes met her fiancé’s.

His whole face had gone pale, his bottom lip was trembling. And she could’ve sworn that she could see tears glistening in his bright, blue eyes that were normally so full of joy.

Which was also the moment where she realised she weren’t even hurting for herself, but for him.

“Babe-” Roxie started to explain herself.

“Don’t.” his voice croaked as he turned and ran away.

“I hope you fuckers are happy.” Y/N spat in her face, shooting Nikki, who was stood behind her, a dirty look.

Maintaining the eye contact with him, she slid the engagement ring off of her finger and threw it at him before she ran off after Tommy.

“Tommy! Wait!”

He froze and turned around, tears were starting to fall down her cheeks when she noticed his own tear stained face. It broke her heart, because this was her fault. All of this could’ve been avoided if she’d just told him how bad Roxie was and she was bound to break his heart one way or another.

But she didn’t. She stayed quiet. And now, she was witnessing her best friend’s heart shattering before her.

“Y/N...shouldn’t you be yelling at Nikki?” he said between sniffles.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He couldn’t reply, he just smiled sadly at her while his sobs grew bigger. She ran towards him, wrapping her arms around his torso and buried her head in his chest. He was way too tall for this to be any sort of comfort to him, like he only wanted to comfort her.

But the reminder that the man she loved didn’t love her back made her weak, her knees buckled under her and he fell down with her.

It all felt like an out of place movie scene, the way that her tears slid down the leathery fabric on his shoulder, arms clinging to him while his own hands tightened their embrace.

The way Nikki had given her hugs in the past was nothing compared to how Tommy was holding her. She felt safe, warm and, dare she say it, she actually felt like she was needed. Loved.

She picked her head up from his shoulder to greet his eyes again, tending to the small strands of his black hair that had stuck onto his face. He gave her a toothless smile as a thank you. After all, the last time he ever got a hug that reassuring was from his mom.

Things were tense between the band and Y/N from then on. She had moved out of Nikki’s place in an instant, Tommy by her side helping her as she stuffed all of her belongings into a suitcase.

Tommy himself kicked Roxie out as soon as he could, not even giving her a chance to explain herself.

He cried himself to sleep that night - and every night onwards. He had never had a relationship that ended as messy as this one did, he had never loved a girl as much as he loved Roxie.

The pain got to him, so much that he had to isolate himself from the band for a while, as he couldn’t even manage to look at Nikki without having the urge to punch him.

Not because he stole his girl.

Because he broke Y/N’s heart.

The pair found themselves growing closer together. Tommy would frequently invite her over and they’d spend the day sprawled across his sofa, a platonic tangle of limbs, watching whatever distraction was on TV at the time. But she would never spend the night there.

Until one day where she left her coat at his place and only realised it when she got home. She excused herself out of the apartment she shared with her friend again and drove back to his house, entering his unlocked house, at this point she had her own set of keys, surprised to be greeted by sniffles.

Y/N knew that a week isn’t enough to get over something like this, but she was always under the impression that he was getting better. She immediately ran into his room, where she saw him curled into a ball, rocking back and forth. She took her place next to him.

“Hey, Tom.” she cooed, placing a hand on his shoulder that was shaking as a result of his continuous sobs and tears.

They subconsciously slowed down at the sound of her voice, because he was so used to being soothed by her gentleness, even when they talked about something random like the best flavour of Twizzlers.

Being around Y/N was like a soft, warm blanket, shielding him from the horrors of the world. She, herself, was his safe space.

She helped him sit up and he immediately wrapped his arms around her.

“She fucked me up, man.”

“I know.”

“I’m never gonna find anyone like her.”

That formed a pit in her chest.

Sure, she knew she was just a shoulder to cry on and the only one that offered to comfort him, but she couldn’t help wanting more. It was wrong of her to even think about it.

“No, you’ll find someone better.”

He pulled out of the hug, their faces no more than mere inches away from each other, while Y/N thumbed away the river of tears that had flowed down his face.

“I think I already have.”

She could feel his eyes switch between hers and her lips as he licked his own. He leant toward her, entwining his soft, pink lips with hers and the taste of salt had never been sweeter.

Maybe it was because their fond for each other had grown deeper, or maybe it was because they were both needy and desperate for someone to care for them again, but the kiss just felt right. 

Like it was meant to be.

At least, that’s what she told him during their wedding vows. And the two of them laughed her asses off at the fact that her vows were almost identical. He too mentioned that the kiss felt like something that the angels above controlled.

And it would’ve been the happiest day of Tommy’s life, if it wasn’t for Nikki deciding to act like a dick throughout. He regretted asking him to be the best man, but no matter what they’d all gone through, he was still a brother to him.

“She’s really gonna marry me, huh?” Tommy had asked the band when he walked into the lobby, straightening his tie. Vince was sat in a big armchair, spinning around as a result of his boredom, while Mick stared into space, fighting the urge to murder his friend every time he could hear the chair squeak.

“This isn’t some kind of a sick joke, is it?”

“Life’s a sick joke.” Mick chimed in, being the life of the party he normally was.

“Hey, what time is it? I think we should get out there. Hey Nikki, let’s hit it.” he said, looking at him. He was quite clearly doped up again, practically unconscious across the couch. That wasn’t what he meant by ‘hit it’.

“Yo, best man, let’s go! I got a wife waiting.”

Still no response.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Tommy muttered, walking over to him.

“Nikki! Wake up, asshole!” he continued, slapping him awake.

“Fuck, dude.” Nikki grumbled as he sat up.

For a split second, he thought that the world he frequently hallucinated every time the heroin entered his bloodstream was real, that this was all for him and the boys were getting ready for his special day with Y/N.

But then he saw the rings placed neatly on the pillow next to him, the rings that weren’t in any way shape or form like the ones he had proposed to her with (he hated to admit it, but they were much better. Tommy had really outdone himself), the reality of what was actually happening hurt him more than Tommy’s slaps.

It got to a point where he was practically stabbing needles, careless whether it drew blood or not. He just wanted to use the heroin as a replacement for what (or who) was once the best part of his shitty life.

His primary sources of happiness were mostly reliant on Y/N and the band, so what else could he have turned to when he drove her away and broke the band with it?

He found his hand flying toward the necklace he never took off, the one Y/N bought for him on their one year anniversary - just a month before he proposed. His fingers toyed with the engagement ring threaded in the necklace, the one he wanted her to wear today. He had been wearing that ring around his neck since the day he broke her heart - and his along with it.

“I’m good.”

No, you’re not. Your best friend is getting married to the love of your life.

“It’s all good, man.”

No, it isn’t. That’s your wife. This was supposed to be your day, but you just had to fuck that up.

“It’s most definitely not ‘all good’, man, but whatever. Just clean up-” Tommy started to spit back, growing sicker of his sarcasm the more time he wasted.

He was interrupted by the sound of Nikki getting up, knocking over the contents on the table in front of him when he leant on it for support.

“Hey!” he yelled, grabbing Nikki aggressively by the shoulders, glaring at him with narrowed eyes.

“Get your shit together. I don’t want Y/N to be embarrassed, okay?”

“I’m embarrassing? Cool.” Nikki scoffed. He pushed himself out of Tommy’s painful hold.

“Let’s go marry your fancy ass hand-me-down in this fancy ass hotel-”

“Hey, at least I know how to love the woman.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up. Neither of you even know how to respect a woman, not to mention love one. Nikki just set the standards really low so she fell instantly for Tommy.” Mick rolled his eyes, getting up with some struggle.

“I can be the best man instead if you want, Drummer.” he continued, losing the same amount of hope as Tommy did for Nikki.

“Nah, ‘s cool. I got the rings already. Let’s just get this over with.” Nikki sighed, making a start out of the hotel lobby, not looking back to see if Tommy or anyone else was following.

The time finally came when the boys had taken their spots in a semi circle around the vicar and Tommy, waiting for the heart and soul of the ceremony herself to walk down the white-carpeted aisle.

And what a truly magnificent sight she was, her hair and makeup done to the 9s and her dress…

Fuck, Nikki thought, his hand gripping tighter around the ring on his necklace.

Her dress was the exact same one Nikki had confirmed would be the best one for her.

He felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs and when he looked over to Tommy, he saw that he had the same expression.

That’s when he realised how much this meant for his best friend. He couldn’t ruin this day for him.

He found himself growing more nauseous as she walked toward the front of the church and a huge grin on her face.

The same grin he saw when he proposed. Or when he made cookies that were perfectly crunchy, but also chewy, fit for her liking.

“And do you, Thomas Lee Bass...”

Nikki could barely hear what was happening over the voice that echoed through his head.

You deserve this.

“...take Y/N Y/L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife

You deserve to be hurt,

“…to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health.”

sad,

“To love and to cherish…”

and jealous.

“from this day forward, until death do you part?"

You brought this on yourself.

“I do.”

“I do.” Nikki found himself whispering.

“Yo Nik, the rings.” Tommy whispered. When he didn’t reply, he looked behind him to see that the veins on Nikki’s hand were about to burst, his cheeks the colour of tomatoes.

“Nikki!” he said a little louder this time.

“What?” he jumped, blinking away the tears that started to burn up in his eyes.

“The rings.”

“Oh. Right.” he replied, giving the pillow to the officiant and stepping back, not meeting anyones eyes.

"And now, by the power vested in me by, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."

Their family and friends all cheered and applauded the happy new couple, giving Nikki the perfect opportunity to slip out unnoticed. He felt as if he would throw up if he spent one more second seeing Tommy in the spot where he should be.

Admittedly, he was happy that Tommy had gotten his moment with a girl that really did deserve it. That she deserved to be loved in a way he couldn’t.

He just had to live with the fact that, if he had gotten his shit together, if he could’ve been a better boyfriend, if he just had the chance to apologise and show how much he really loved her, this would’ve been his moment instead.

-

let me know what you thought :P

tags (for the dirt fics), ask to be added or removed @thathappylandfill @merlehs

#the dirt fan fic #motley true fan fic #tommy lee #tommy lee x reader #tommy lee fluff #machine gun kelly #nikki sixx #nikki sixx x reader #nikki sixx angst #douglas booth #the dirt #motley crue #colson baker #colson baker!tommy lee #douglas booth!nikki sixxx

[nikki-fucking-sixx]

What the fuck kinda question is that 😂

#mick mars #motley crue #nikki sixx #nikki sixx fanfiction #the dirt #the dirt 2019 #tommy lee #vince neil #douglas booth #nikki sixx fan fic #1980s hair #80s rock

[propertyofnikkisthighs]

She’s My Collar pt. 4

Tags: @nowhereiswhereibelong​

I jolt awake in terror clutching my chest and looking around wildly before my eyes adjust to the dark and I remember I’m in my own room. I try to focus on calming my breathing back to a normal level and hold my head in my hands. A thin film of sweat covers my forehead and the cool air against my back is an indicator that is also covered in sweat due to my nightmare. I take a deep breath and contemplate my next move carefully before I think fuck it and decide to throw caution to the wind. I fling the covers off of my body and get up turning my lamp on so I could see properly. I look around for clothing to throw on and find a pair of shorts and one of Tommy’s shirts he had lent me after getting a beer dumped on me by a drunk asshole at a show. I slip my feet into my slippers and make my way over to the boy’s apartment.

The music flows out of the open window near their front door, which is now nailed shut from the cops kicking it down so much. The potent odor of marijuana is also spilling out of the window along with a particularly shit faced girl who runs to the railing and proceeds to spill her guts over it. I hear Tommy before I see him as I crawl through the window into the living room.

“You guys are gonna fucking freak.” I hear Tommy say and I find him just in time to catch his face going between a girl’s legs going to town.

I avert my eyes and make my way around his public show into the kitchen to try to find any of the other boys. I successfully locate Nikki in the kitchen tearing through the cabinets in search of something. He nearly falls into me turning too fast, but luckily catches himself at the last minute.

“Hey Riv!” He yells excitedly messing up my hair. “Have you seen our rubbing alcohol?”

“I don’t live here Nikki.” If he’s looking for rubbing alcohol I know he’s up to no good.

“Come on River don’t be a fucking buzz kill.” He sighs annoyed with my concern for his well being.

“Under the sink.” I roll my eyes and he gets a goofy smile on his face running to get it.

I lean against the wall and watch as Nikki tears into the living room like a bat out of hell. A man laughs, egging Nikki on as he dumps the liquid on his leather jacket clad arm and uses his lighter to cover his arm in flames. The man clearly had never been to one of their shows if this little production had him wowed. Nikki flashes a shit eating grin my way and walks towards the man little fires falling from him singeing the carpet in his wake. The man backs away seeming genuinely scared that Nikki will burn him and I know Nikki will accidentally burn him so I spray his fire with the spray bottle I kept on the fridge to discipline them.

“River what the fuck?” Nikki scoffs at me in disbelief crossing his arms like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

“If you light the building on fire the band is fucked out of a living slash rehearsing space.” I say shrugging.

“You know you could at least try being less of a loser.” Nikki grumbles at me and I’m about to fire back for him to shove it when I see Vince adjusting himself in his pants coming out of the bathroom.

“Have fun? Did you enjoy the ride?” I directed him.

“I know she sure did.” Vince laughs giving Nikki a high five. “When did you get here, River? You normally say no to our invites to party with us.”

“I couldn’t sleep.” I shrug.

The moans of the girl Tommy is “performing” on suddenly cut through the noise of all the millions of other things going on in the apartment. I turn to go deeper into the kitchen and look in the fridge for a beer to ignore them. The boys on the other hand go to check out the show. I take a sip of the beer and try not to cringe too much at the taste. I wasn’t a big drinker in general and I especially disliked the taste of beer, but it was the only thing the boys had in their fridge. I squeeze my eyes closed as the grand finale comes to an end in the living room and try to pretend that what was happening in there wasn’t happening. Tommy rounds the corner and catches sight of me, eyes closed squeezing a beer between two hands and stops dead in his tracks. I peek my eyes open and see Tommy stopped in front of me slowly turning a deep red shade all over his face.

“Hey.” I say cracking a smile and he smiles back, but he still looks embarrassed.

“Hey. How long have you been here?” He asks rubbing his neck nervously.

“Long enough.” I take a sip of my beer. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Can I?” He asked motioning to the fridge and I realize I’m blocking the door for him to get into it.

“Oh yeah I’m sorry.” I shuffle to the side and he cracks open his beer and chugs some of his beer leaning on the counter near me.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Just restless. I’m fine.” I lie not wanting to put a damper on his night.

“Want to take a shot with me?” He smiles wildly and I nod my head agreeing. Which was my first mistake that night. My eyelids feel as if they are a million pounds and my head feels like someone wacked me upside it with a brick. I groan and try to pull my covers over my head from the blaring light of the window only to be met with some unseeable force holding them down. That was about the time I noticed that not only was this not my cover, this was not my room at all. I sit up quickly, far too quickly and everything spins around me. I groan again and hold my head in my hands until I regain stability. I hear soft snoring next to me and look over to see Tommy laying on his stomach in just his underwear a small pool of drool next to his mouth. I look down and see I’m only in his shirt and my panties and a panic sets in my bones. Did I fuck Tommy last night?? I need to get to my apartment and quick.

I scan the messy bedroom and locate my shorts and bra discarded on the lamp in the corner and slowly make my way to them so as to not make much noise. I pull my shorts on and try to find my slippers. They seem to have been kicked haphazardly in front of Tommy’s door luckily and I slip into those before tip toeing out of the room. I close the door softly and turn to leave smacking right into Nikki’s chest.

“Well well well look who is doing the walk of shame this morning.” Nikki chuckles and I place a finger over his mouth shushing him.

“Not now Nikki. I have a killer hangover.” I whine in a whisper.

“Here come in the kitchen let a professional teach you how to treat a hangover ya big baby.” He motions for me to follow him and against my better judgement I follow him.

“How do you possibly do this all the time?” The dull thud in my brain is churning my stomach and I’m almost worried I’ll blow chunks right then and there.

“I told you, I’m a professional.” He smirks as he hands me a glass of mystery liquid. I take a drink and choke on the harsh burn of a jack and coke.

“Nikki what the fuck is your problem?!” I cough. “I’m hungover, why would you give me more alcohol?”

“Hair of the dog.” He shrugs.

“I’m going to my apartment. Where things make sense.” I storm out of their place as best as I can considering I have to crawl out of a window with Nikki calling out that he’ll see me later at the show.

Oh fuck I forgot about the show tonight. I try not to make too much noise getting to my room as Mick is sleeping vampire style on my couch, which seemed to be the new normal for us. Once I’m safely in my room I flop and the bed and shut my eyes praying when I wake up this hangover will be long gone.

The boys are rowdy as ever tonight in their favorite post show booth at The Rainbow. Tommy and Nikki have bashed each other's heads on the table more times than I can count and Vince would disappear every so often for the bathroom, but would return with pupils the size of saucers and a mouth ready to shout along with the overgrown idiots with whom he shared a band. Oh not to mention they had a girl sucking their dicks under the table. I tried to ignore the fact Tommy was struggling to keep his expression neutral as the girl gave him his “turn”.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” I announce not that any of them are really paying attention besides Mick who nods to acknowledge me.

Instead of heading to the bathroom I stand outside listening to the sounds of the strip to calm myself. There was no need to get worked up. So what if you guys might have slept together and you couldn’t remember it? He was an on the rise rockstar that was their thing right, so why did it hurt so bad? I took a deep breath and collected my thoughts again before I went back inside to face the music, but I hoped the girl had moved on to Nikki by now. To my delight (and also surprise) the table girl is gone entirely. Just as I’m about to ask where their personal dick sucking machine has gotten off to a blonde slides in next to Nikki.

“Aye River!” Nikki acknowledges me in his state of drunken friendliness. “I want you to meet Beth.”

“Hello Beth.” Vince winks her way and I can already see the cogs of his brain trying to calculate a threesome at the very least. And taking Nikki’s girl at the very most.

“Hey.” I smile trying to play nice. She seems like most of the groupies the guys regularly fuck, a rich girl that likes coming to the strip to blow guys and daddy’s money on drugs.

As the night continues on Vince and Tommy trade places with him ending up right next to me. The booth is crowded and I try not to let my mind wander everytime Tommy’s fingers brush against my knee or when he tucks his face into my hair to laugh excessively from boyish joy and alcohol mixing.

“Alright well we’re gonna move on to the next bar you coming T-bone?” Nikki slurs holding Beth’s hips against his own and sways in the spot next to the table from being intoxicated.

“Nah man someone’s gotta make sure Riv gets home safe.” Tommy tosses an arm around my shoulder and I feel my face heat up.

“Suit yourself.” Nikki shrugs and a smug smirk falls over his face. “Remember kids the only sure fire way to prevent unwanted pregnancy is to swallow.”

He’s out of my reach when I lunge up to try to whack him which only increases his enjoyment at my embarrassment. He gives me the finger as he and Vince walk away snickering with Beth calling a “nice to meet you” back to the rest of us.

“Ya coming Mick?” Tommy asks as we pile back onto the strip.

“I have to go make sure things are cool with the she-beast at home. River leave the extra key under the mat for me just in case.” He rolls his eyes walking to his car.

Tommy and I have walked home at night alone more times than I could count now and yet there was this thick awkward silence between us this time. He normally would toss an arm around my shoulder or hold my hand, but his hands are jammed in the pockets of his leather jacket and he walks a few paces ahead of me. Just as I’m about to ask him if things are okay he starts to speak.

“You left.” Is all he says softly.

“What?”

“You left this morning and didn’t say anything.”

“I was just really hungover and wanted to sleep in my own bed.” I half lie to him.

“Do you even remember what you said to me last night?” He huffs.

“Tommy I don’t really remember last night.”

“You said you always wanted to sleep in bed and wake up together.” Neither of us continue walking at that point.

“I-”

“Did you mean it?” He asks looking at the ground.

“Yes Tommy.” I admit “You’re my best friend at this point. I feel safest when I’m with you.”

“Yeah. Best friend.” He repeats.

I take the few steps to bring me right beside him and snake my arms around him to hug his middle and by the grace of god he hugs me back. The rest of the walk home is quiet, but the silence doesn’t feel heavy anymore. I convince (not that it took much convincing) Tommy to shower and sleep at my apartment instead of me sleeping in his gross apartment again. My back is to the door and I can’t see Tommy enter my room but I can smell the men’s body wash I forcibly bought for him. The mattress dips and creaks slightly as he settles in next to me and the warmth the shower brought him radiates towards me in waves. An involuntary shudder rolls through my body and the next thing I know I’m being pulled against Tommy’s warm skinny body. I glance over my shoulder to see Tommy staring down at me with an unreadable expression.

“You don’t remember any of last night?” He asks barely above a whisper.

“Nope.” I copy his tone.

“So then you don’t remember…” he trails off and brings his hand up to cup and stroke my cheek and his tongue darts out to wet his lips quickly.

“What?” My eyes flick from his eyes to his mouth and back up again.

I can hear my heartbeat in my ears as the distance between us begins to shrink. My eyes flutter close and I’m sure I stop breathing when our lips ghost over each other not quite fully connecting them.

I hear the sound of shattering glass. Then I smell the fire.

#she's my collar #tommy lee fanfic #mgk!tommy lee fan fic #mgk!tommy lee #Tommy Lee #nikki sixx fanfic #douglas booth!nikki sixx #douglas booth!nikki sixx fanfic #nikki sixx #vince neil fanfic #daniel webber!vince neil #daniel webber!vince neil fanfic #Vince Neil #Mick Mars #mick mars fanfic #iwan rheon!mick mars fanfic #iwan rheon!mick mars #motley crue fanfic #Motley Crue #the dirt fan fiction #The Dirt

[gilbertandanne]

gurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrlllllllllllllllllllllllll now all I can imagine is Emily Ratajkowski and Douglas Booth getting hot and bothered and I'm just *fans self* good fucking job holy shit

I knew I needed to go in a different direction with that one considering what happens in the fic, so I’m REALLY happy you like that fancast!  Honestly, I really really love how it turned out.  21 Riley was the EASIEST for me to fancast, ngl.  I can’t really imagine anyone else doing it.

#this makes me so happy #she was the riley cast i was worried about bc it's a little outside of the box you know? #Anonymous

[cruecifymesixx]

Love and Leather /part fourteen/

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: my few days of not writing really fucking helped me. Hope everyone enjoys it! Feedback is always loved and appreciated 🤘🏽

Warnings: Drug use, language

Taglist: @oskea93, @brideofdraculana , @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @miserablecunt, @electradestiny, @xstarryeyes, @aryssav, @tiranni, @justjodeye, @venus-calum, @fandomshit6000, @anntheboneless, @tashy-bear, @extremesadnerding, @myheadisinvaded, @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @are-we-real, @hi-my-name-is-riley, @thatbandchick39, @awkwrdcait, @awesomealmostdopestudent, @countrygirlswonderland, @dillightfulpickle, @baiabouk, @madsthegroupie, @martabastic, @hoop-diddy-doo, @romanticvengeance, @krazykatkay456, @shinobi-nobi, @shouttatthedevill, @gees-jacket-slut, @kickstart-myheart-sixx, @s-outhie, @brooklyn-antiques

December 4th, 1984

Vanity looked up at the twinkling Christmas lights of the beach house Vince had moved into a few months prior. Taking in the smell of the ocean, almost as much as she took in the smell of cigarettes and marijuana. She walked inside of the bass booming house as her friends forced her to come to the Crüe’s party, only getting off of work an hour ago.

Her heels clicked against the concrete as she walked up the front porch stairs and inside the house, a purplish tint slowly cascading over her body the further she got away from the door.

She greeted everyone who acknowledged her with a smile, “Hello ladies.” Tommy said popping out of the crowd, Tonya and Lucia said hello, “Where is Nikki?” Vanity asked him, having Tommy draw a smile on his face,

“Worry about him later girl, you and me are doing a beer chugging race.” Tommy told her while wrapping his arm around her shoulder, making her laugh, “You are such a sore looser.” Vanity told tommy which made him laugh and roll his eyes, “You won on a whim last time!!” He shouted and Vanity chuckled, shaking her head.

“I’m going to find Nikki.” She said and Tommy rolled his eyes, “Of course, go find your boyfriend.” Vanity gave him the middle finger, causing tommy to laugh.

Vanity walked through the crowd and saw Nikki on the couch bent over and snorting lines off the table, “Woo!” He yelled out while rubbing his nose, and licking the residue off the plastic wrap, getting every last speck of blow.

“Vanity!” Nikki finally noticed her, “Move Zutaut!” Nikki yelled, shoving his record label executives legs off the table, before strutting over to her, making her smile as he looked at her.

“Hey doll.” Nikki said while placing a kiss on her cheek, wrapping his arms around her and picking her up. “Come sit with me.” Nikki said in her ear over the loud music, while grabbing her hand and guiding her to the couch.

Nikki plopped down on the couch, while pulling Vanity down to sit, throwing his arm around her shoulder, “I missed you.” Nikki told her, while kissing the side of her head, “You’re extra affectionate tonight.” Vanity teased him while putting some distance between them, “and you saw me just a few days ago.” She added on making Nikki smile cheekily.

“I know, but you’ve been too busy at work for me to harass you into sleeping with me.” Nikki retorted with a sly smirk on his face.

Ever since Vanity returned home four months ago , Nikki has been one persistent son of a bitch. There’s never a moment when he’s not dragging her away from everyone while trying to seduce her. He keeps getting close but to his displeasure Vanity shuts him down or his idiot band mates keep interrupting, he’s having a difficult time accepting the answer no from her.

“Maybe I’m doing it on purpose, did you ever think of that?” Vanity replied, causing Nikki to raise his eyebrows, “Is that so? Every time we’re in the middle of it and I have you half naked on top of me, you are just practically begging for it.” Nikki said proudly, “Yeah whatever...stop being stingy with the blow and give it to me.” Vanity said while reaching for the silver dish she has become so accustomed too.

“Princess, I’ll give you whatever you want.” Nikki said while handing the plate to her, only to receive an eye roll from Vanity,

“God, can you two just fuck already and get it over with? It’s like two cats in heat.” Mick stated while looking at the both of them through his black shades,

Nikki laughed as Vanity snorted up the dust, choosing to ignore his comment.

“Hey look...” Nikki nudged Vanity’s arm while pointing across the room.

Vanity looked up and noticed Vince chatting up a big titted blonde, “watch this doll.” Nikki said, taking a swig out of a Jack Daniels bottle and then clearing his throat.

“Hey are you in the baaaaanddd?” Nikki said with a high pitched girly voice and rubbing his hands over his chest, resulting in Vanity to crack up in a fit of laughter, “What do you fucking think?” Mick chimed in, mocking Vince’s voice,

Nikki laughed at himself, smacking the table. “Have you met my wife Sharise? You wanna have a threesome?” Tom Zutaut butted in, causing the three of them too glance over, “Why would you say that? She’s fucking pregnant.” Vanity snapped at him, “That’s fucked up Zutaut.” Nikki said, his octaves back to normal, “She’s fucking pregnant man, don’t be a fucking dick.” Nikki warned him, a scared look flashing across Toms eyes,

“Ah! I’m just playing with you man, but seriously, don’t be rude.” Nikki playfully warned him, “Don’t be a dick Zutaut...don’t be a be a dick.” Mick added on before taking a swipe of vodka,

“Now, how about you and I go upstairs and take care of business.” Nikki whispered into Vanitys ear, “I just got here, I’m not even drunk yet.” Vanity replied, stealing Nikki’s bottle of JD and taking a sip, “So you’re telling me you’ll fuck me only if your drunk?” Nikki questioned her, and in return Vanity gave him a smile.

Vanitys attention got diverted when Razzle walked up and sat next to her, “How are ya, love! Haven’t seen you in a while.” Razzle said full of enthusiasm, “I’ve been working, some of us need to have real jobs.” Vanity replied, “Uh, you have a fuck ton of money, Van. You don’t need a real job either.” Nikki butted in, “So? I get bored sitting around in my multi million dollar mansion, with my countless butlers.” Vanity joked, “And dont forget eating all the caviar in the world on your twenty four karat gold plates.” Nikki added on, only for Vanity to laugh,

“Love, when are you gonna stop hanging around this joke and come be with a real man.” Razzle said to Vanity, while grabbing her hand and kissing it.

Nikki knew he was joking but still took offense to it. “Fuck off Razz.” Nikki growled at him, “Show me a good time and maybe I’ll accept your invitation.” Vanity teased Razz, trailed her fingers down her chest before resting on his belt buckle, “Ya know, I’ve never been with a British guy....” Vanity paused,taking another look at Razz, “Maybe you could be the first.” Vanity trailed her fingers back up his chest, while grabbing the side of his face and making him look at her,

Nikki quickly got up, shoving Toms legs out of the way yet again and storming outside.

“I think you may have ruffled his feathers, love.” Razz said with a cheeky smile, causing Vanity to chuckle, “Hey Razz! You coming man!!” Vince yelled for him, “Twice today already!” Razz quickly looked at Vanity, “Maybe three times after I come back.” Razz said while putting his finger under Vanitys chin, making her look up at him, before kissing her cheek. “Let’s go man!” Razz said while getting up and walking over to Vince before leaving.

Vanity sighed, “You sure know how to drive him mad.” Mick said, making Vanity scoot over to the older gentleman,

“Oh common, I was just playing.” Vanity expressed while rolling her eyes, “He has no right to get upset when I talk to a guy Mick, especially when they’re my friend.” Vanity was quick to defend herself.

Mick took a sip of his vodka, “Maybe so, but anyone that knows him and knows you, also knows that you are his, wether or not you like to admit it.” Mick wisely spoke, causing vanity to scoff. “I am nobody’s, and I’m definitely not Nikki’s.” Vanity defensively crossed her arms and leaned back into the couch,

“Sweetheart, everyone knows that you are Nikki’s girl, even if there isn’t a label or grounds for a relationship.” Mick explained, making vanity roll her eyes, reminding her of how her dad use to talk to her.

“I don’t even want a relationship with him.” Vanity stated while evening out another line of blow on the glass table. Mick reached across and grabbed the straw from her, “Hey! Give it back Mick!” Vanity shouted at him, “Vanity, now we both know you’re lying when you say that. I may be quiet, and I don’t say a lot but I’ve watched this all transpire. Never in my years of knowing Nikki have I seen him act like this when he’s around you, and you? You just act cold.” Mick explained, as Vanity snatched the straw back out of his grasp.

Vanity snorted up the lines, rubbing her nose and looking back at him, “I’m not cold.” She replied, again snorting up another line, “I know that, you’re such a sweet heart, full of sunshine and shit like that. But what I don’t know is why you act like you don’t want him.” Mick continued to psycho-analyze Vanity,

“Mick just fucking drop it, it’s none of your business.” Vanity snapped at him, while standing up, “Move!!” She yelled at Tom, startling him out of his sluggish drunk state.

She went to cool off on the balcony when she saw Nikki chatting up some blonde.

‘Ha! Go figure.’ She thought to herself, while walking out onto the balcony, and slowly walking up to them.

The blonde acknowledged Vanity by giving her a glare, “Go away.” Vanity told the blonde bimbo who was clearly sticking out her chest to make herself more appealing, “Van, let’s play nice...we can all share.” Nikki responded to Vanitys jealously, causing a smirk to form on his lips,

“I said, go away and I’m not gonna tell you again.” Vanity warned her and she finally left.

“Why’d you leave like that?” Vanity question him, but he brought a cigarette up to his lips and lit it.

“Nikki, I’m talking to you.” Vanity said, grabbing his arm and making him face her, “Oh so now you want to talk? Thought you would be preoccupied flirting with everyone else as usual.” Nikki spat his frustration out at her while taking a drag of the cigarette.

“What’s gotten into you? Why are you acting like that?” Vanity questioned him, taking the cigarette out of his fingers and taking a hit, “It’s nothing doll, don’t worry about it.” Nikki spoke softly, taking back his cigarette all while avoiding her glazed over eyes.

“Well obviously somethings wrong.” Vanity mumbled while leaning her head on Nikki’s shoulder, or at least tried to before he moved away from her touch,

“Why are you always flirting with everyone? If it ain’t me it’s T-bone, or Vince or Raz, or just about any other guy I introduce you too, you just jump from one guy to the next.” Nikki angrily replied, finally meeting her line of sight. Vanitys mouth gaped open, surprised that Nikki would even say that to her.

“I do not flirt with everyone. And I for damn sure don’t flirt with Tommy or Vince.” Vanity defended herself.

‘What is with everyone jumping down my damn throat tonight?’ Were her inner thoughts.

“Oh fucking stop it Van, you do it with fucking every guy that gives you attention, you might as well just take off your fucking clothes and suck them off.” Nikki stated, shaking his head in disapproval.

“Don’t be a fucking jerk to me. I haven’t done anything wrong.” Vanity said, lightly shoving the side of his arm,

‘God, What is it with her and shoving me?’ Nikki clenched his jaw and looked away from her.

“It’s called being nice, maybe you should try it for once in your life, fuck this I’m going back inside.” Vanity rolled her eyes and turned on her heels starting to approach the door, but Nikki’s warm hand grabbed her wrist to stop her,

“Y’know I really fucking hate it when you walk away from me.” Nikki says while looking down at her short frame, his eyes quickly glancing to her tits that were about to fall out of her tube top at any given time.

Vanity pushed into Nikki’s chest, letting a small huff escape her lips. “Y’know, i really hate when you say mean things that make me walk away from you. “ She says, rolling her eyes after.

“Well maybe if you didn’t act dumb, I wouldn’t have to say mean things.” Nikki slyly says while snaking his arms around her, pulling her close to him again.

“Well maybe if you didn’t play hard to get, I wouldn’t have to act dumb. “ She says while looking up at him, raising an eyebrow.

Nikki let out a boisterous laugh, “Me playing hard to get!” He pauses and laughs some more, “Princess that’s all you, I’ve been trying since you got back.”

Vanity shrugs, shaking her head. “Obviously not hard enough. “

Nikki’s arms dropped from around her waist, growing frustrated, “Not trying hard enough? Vanity, I’ve been trying to get in between those legs since you got back but you won’t give it up.” A smile grew on Vanity’s face, “I’m only fucking with you, babe.” Nikki’s eyes lit up when she called him that.

“I don’t like to be teased, Vanity.” His voice low as he grabs her by the wrist and leads her into the house Vanity smiled softly, biting her lip as she followed Nikki through the house.

“Hey man! Where you going! Van, come take a line with me!” Tommy says while stepping in front of Nikki

Smiling at Tommy, Vanity nodded only to get a glare from Nikki, “We’re busy T-bone.” Nikki told his band mate. A smirk playing on her lips, “I could go for a line, how bout you Nikki?”

Vanity pulled away from Nikki’s grasp, “Vanity.” He says her name sternly, “Hold on babe.” Tommy looks at both of them confused as to why Vanity would be calling him that.

Knowing it’d piss Nikki off, Vanity grabbed Tommy’s hand, pulling him towards the party. Looking back at Nikki, she gives him a small smirk and turns back around.

Nikki didn’t let her get far as he quickly wrapped his hand around her upper arm and dragged her away from him, “Bye tommy.” Vanity laughs, as she’s starting to feel the affects of the cocaine as Nikki leads her away from the crowd and takes her up the stairs.

Tommy plops down next to Mick, “I think they’re gonna fuck.” Mick tilts his glasses down and watches them go up the stairs while disappearing around the corner, “Bout god damn time.”

#YALL KNOW WHATS NEXT 👀 #the dirt #the dirt fanfic #nikki sixx #nikki sixx fanfic #motley crue #douglas booth #motley crue fan fic #1980s #hanoi rocks #rocknroll #drugs #fan fic #writing #my idea