#i just saw ‘girlnight’

[goobiestar]

The word girl is so funny

#goobie bites #i just saw ‘girlnight’

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Eighty

Words: 3.1K

Warning(s): Explicit language, substance abuse, verbal abuse

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My dad always used to tell me, "wisdom is being young enough to get away with doing something stupid, but still knowing better."

I never paid any attention to it because I didn't have any stupid decisions lined up at the age of eight. Or thirteen. Or sixteen...I guess because I never experienced the art of bad decision making and their damnable consequences, all of that pent up stupidity broke loose when I was seventeen and didn't slow down until I was in my thirties.

Young enough to get away with doing something stupid…

"What the hell are you thinking, Duff?" His older brother yells.

I'm listening with my ear pressed to the door, waiting in the hallway outside of Duff's apartment...trying not to be too mortifiedly embarrassed. 

"Matt, it's—"

"—You're fooling around with a married woman, Duff, I know exactly what it is!" He yells. 

"They're getting divorced, Matt, alright? It's not like I'm-I'm just sleeping with her for the hell of it!"

"She's getting out of a six year relationship and getting a divorce at twenty-three, Duff, don't you fucking think the reasonable thing for you to do is back off and let her actually process that before having sex with her?!" 

"It's not like I'm taking advantage of her! I'm not! She loves me—"

"—She's lost! She's vulnerable! She's confused! She'd fall in love with any bone head that was a good guy right now!" He shouts at him. "What are you thinking, Duff? I mean, honestly, what the hell are you fucking thinking?" 

"I-I don't know!"

"What the fuck happens if the media gets ahold of this? If mom finds out that her son is getting hot n' heavy in cars in dark parking lots with a married girl!"

It's quiet for a second.

"I would explain that they're getting divorced, and—"

"—Bullshit. You know what she'd say? 'Married is married until divorce is finalized'." He states. 

"I think mom would be pretty understanding, Matt. I don't think she'd judge me like you are or try to talk me out of it."

"You sound like dad right now, you know that? Just fucking like him." He cuts. "And it's bullshit because I know you aren't anything like dad which is why I'm so stumped right now." 

"It's not that big of a deal." Duff argues. 

"Has she filed yet?" Matt asks next, not skipping a beat. 

"W-What?" 

"Has he filed yet? Have they filed yet?" 

"I don't know—it's not my fucking business." 

"So you're just sleeping with her and you don't even know if they're even splitting up at this point? Of course not because she probably doesn't even know what she wants!" 

"She told me she's gonna divorce him." Duff tells him, certainty in his tone. 

"Well, actions speak a hell of a lot louder than words, don't they?" Matt fires at him.  

...but still knowing better.

The door opens quickly and I pretend I wasn't listening, taking a few steps back as Matt storms out, giving me a second glance before walking down the hallway to the stairs.

I peek into the apartment to see Duff pacing, not paying any attention to me still being out here. 

I take a breath before heading after him. 

"Matt," I say when I get to the parking lot as he goes to his car, "wait."

"You don't owe me an explanation about it, sweetheart, it's between me and my brother." He tells me calmly, getting into his car. 

"Do you have a girlfriend?" I ask him, catching my breath, before he can close the door. 

He looks at me for a second. 

"Do you? Or a wife or a boyfriend or something?" 

"I have a girlfriend." He tells me. 

"How long have you been with your girlfriend?"

"Like, almost a year, now." He replies, not seeing the point of telling me this. 

"I bet you're really good to your girlfriend, Matt." I say, and he slowly catches on, sighing a little. 

"I try to be."

"Nikki wasn't good to me. For years. While he was killing himself with drugs, he was killing me with how he treated me and how he acted and when you really love somebody you sit and make excuses for them to make however they're killing you seem justified, and it's not. It never is." I explain, a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. "And you don't realize it until one day you're watching a woman you loved and trusted tell the world she's been having an affair with your husband. And then those rose lenses shatter and it's clear. You've spent years of your life giving everything to someone who would probably trade you for an ounce of smack if he ran out." I sniffle. "I really loved him, and you're right, I do still love him. I do. But I also know I'd rather die than willingly throw myself back into that hell. I haven't filed yet, but I am going to when he gets back from Japan. And I do love Duff, and he's a very, very good man. I don't know the situation with you guys' father and it's not my business, but whoever and whatever your dad is...your brother is the farthest thing from it. And I know you are, too, just from the way Duff's always spoke of you and your siblings. I'm sorry for the trouble, and I know you're just trying to look out for him, but you need to be proud of him. Not for what you saw earlier, but just for the fact he's a really great person in a city filled with selfish pricks. You need to be proud of him, and he needs to hear that you're proud of him." 

He lets out another breath, processing what I'm saying, nodding again. 

"Have a good night." He mumbles to me, shutting the door, and I let out a breath and head back upstairs, seeing Duff stopped pacing and eventually just plopped onto the couch. 

He looks at me when I come back in, his eyes sad, a solemn look on his face. 

"I'm sorry if you heard any of that." He says to me and I sit down on the couch beside him. 

"It's okay. He's just trying to look out for you, you know?" 

"I know but he doesn't even know the half of it." He sighs. "And I'm not acting like my dad because if I were I'd be sleeping with anything in a skirt and leaving my wife to deal with my eight kids. 

He tells me lowly, hurt in his voice. 

I try to find the humor in it, nudging his side. 

"You have a wife and eight kids?" I ask, smiling a little and he looks at me, his lips tugging at the corners. 

"No," his lips crack the smallest of smiles for a moment, "but even if I did I wouldn't treat them like shit." He adds. 

My hand comes up to discreetly brush against my stomach. 

"Your brother just wants the best for you." I tell him.

"Who cares? It's not his or anybody else's business." He replies, leaning back, rubbing his forehead. 

"I love you." I offer, hoping the words make him relax a little. 

He huffs out a breath, finally looking at me, his hand grabbing mine, pressing it to his lips.  

I did love him, just not the way I thought I did. I mean, when I was in love with Nikki, it was evident to everybody. I looked at him like I worshipped the ground he walked on—because I nearly did. With Duff, people had to ask me whether I really loved him or not. I always thought it was because we were moving so fast that it seemed abnormal, but in photos when Duff and I were together it was obvious he and I had no fucking clue what we were doing. We were happy with each other, and loved each other, but it was like we both subconsciously knew we weren't going to workout. At least we eventually accepted it. 

I could've divorced Nikki, eventually married Duff, anyway, and made the same bizarre decision that Tansy and Axl made to divorce twice before finally getting married a third time, years later, when their shit was together—because even if Duff and I did get married, we wouldn't have made it through the early 90s.

A couple mornings later, I'm going back to my house since the coast is clear from Nikki since he left for Japan. 

Checking the mail, I furrow my brows as I'm sorting through the bills, randomly seeing an envelope with my name on it. 

I take the mail inside and open my letter.

"What the hell?" I mumble, looking at a couple hundred dollar bills.

Then it hits me. 

"Hello?" Karen's voice on the other end of the phone, chipper as ever. 

"Why the hell am I getting sketchy money from Elektra?" I ask. 

"It's from 'Wild Side', Viv." She explains. "Because Nikki credited you as one of the writers, remember? They couldn't write you a check because it's under the table." She adds. 

"Under the table?" 

"To avoid—"

"—Well, I don't want it." I state. 

"Viv, you're getting a divorce. I'd keep every dime I could, honestly." She advises. 

"Karen, that's no…" I trail off, my mind running a mile a minute, piecing it together. "What time is it in Japan?" 

"Uhm, like, 2:00a.m. maybe?"

"Where are they staying?" 

"Vivian—"

"—I need to talk to Doc. Where are they staying?" 

I didn't want to talk to Doc. Don't ask me how I managed to harass my estranged husband from 16 time zones away, but, I did.

"You knew you were gonna divorce me, you piece of shit, that's why you credited me so I'd get money to cover divorce court!" I accuse viciously. 

"I don't fuckin' know what you've been smoking, Vivian, but you sound insane right now!" He fires back. 

"What I've been smoking? What the fuck have you been smoking, Nikki?! Huh?!"

"Have you been sleeping, Vivian?! You're being fucking psychotic!"

"I'll get on a flight and show you fucking psychotic, asshole, you set me up and then left the fucking country!"

"I credited you as a joke—I didn't think they'd actually take it serious and send you part of the royalties!" 

"Bullshit! You and Vanity planned for her to tell everybody about your bullshit with each other, knowing I'd leave you and file for divorce so you could be together!" 

"If I was that fucking mean, Vivian, I wouldn't have credited you so you wouldn't have gotten paid shit, you crazy bitch!" He insists. "And take your goddamn medication!" 

He hangs up and I roll my jaw before throwing the phone.  

I could've killed him had I felt like flying to Japan.

"Then he tells me I'm being psychotic!" I vent to Izzy over the sound of the vacuum. 

"Well, were you?!" He asks me and I cut the vacuum off. 

"No, I wasn't. I just called him out on his bullshit because he loves to think I'm stupid."

"What exactly did you say to him?" 

"That he credited me so I'd get money, that I'd probably put toward paying for a divorce."

"That's not too bad." He furrows his brows a little. 

"Exactly. Not to mention the fact I know he's still seeing Vanity and the whole plan was to tell the world they were engaged, knowing I'd leave him, so they could finally publicly be together." 

He looks at me funny, before asking, "d-did you tell him that?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, you lost me, Viv."

"What?"

"That's complete bullshit." He states. 

"How?" 

"How? Viv, the man is on a horse-sized dose of heroin on a daily basis—and the crack he would smoke with Vanity—do you think either of them had the energy or mental compacity to conduct a plan like that?" 

"They had the energy to fuck each other, so, my perception of how much they were able to do under the influence has no limits at this point." I argue. 

"I think pregnancy has you cuckoo  for cocoa puffs." He mumbles. 

"Izzy, I'm being serious." I hiss. 

"I am, too, Viv." He tells me. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be a complete asshole, but I just don't see Nikki high as a fucking kite coming up with this elaborate plan to leave you so he can be with his side piece while simultaneously deciding he wants you to be financially stable enough to withstand a divorce. He's a mean fucker. If he wanted to leave you, he would tell you to fuck off and file the same day without giving a flat fuck if you could afford it or not." He says. "And he's not seeing Vanity. There's no way she'd keep her mouth shut if they were still together." 

"She managed to keep her mouth shut about it for over a year." I grumble. 

"Yeah, because she was probably hoping he'd leave you for her." 

I stop what I'm doing and look at him. 

"Do you think he would've if she didn't tell everybody about it?" I ask next. 

"I don't know, Viv." He answers honestly. 

"Would you?" 

He glances at me, serious for a moment, before the hint of a smile tugs at his lips. 

"Never in a million years." He says and I smile a little. "Would you leave me for Duff?"

I pretend to think for a second. 

"Depends on who's better in bed." I reply with the response I expected from him and he just blinks at me. 

"Fuck you." He says and I laugh, eventually getting quiet, really thinking about what I said the last time we spoke. 

"I'm not gonna do that to Duff." I say to him and he just looks off for a second. 

"What made you change your mind?" 

"He really loves me, Izzy." 

"Yeah, he does." He shifts on his feet. 

"Do you think...like, if him and me stay together…" I don't have to finish it, he already knows where I'm going. 

"I think it'll be great for the first several months because it always is." Izzy replies. "But once the new wears off and things get more clear…" 

"...Yeah."

NIKKI 

"Jesus fucking Christ."

I beat the phone against the wall so the crazy bitch can't call here again. 

"Two o'clock in the morning and she's making a long distance call just to gnaw my balls over something I didn't even fucking do? And bringing Vanity back up? What the fuck's her problem? 

So, she got money for her credit, oh well. Plenty of people wouldn't necessarily mind seeing a couple hundred dollars for them in their mailbox but of course her ungrateful ass can't even be thankful for it." I hiss to myself pacing my room. "Cunt." I add, grabbing my bottle of wine from the TV stand, taking a big swig of it. 

"Fuck her." I state next. "Fuck her. Fuck her. Fuck her...fuck," I take my wedding band off and throw it at hard at I can at the mirror in the corner of the room, on the wall, "her!" I yell when it makes impact, taking a step back, and another, falling flat on my ass. 

I don't have the energy to get up, laying on my back and staring at the ceiling. 

Just like my dad. 

Just like my mom.

She just fucking left me...and I made her. 

"Fuck her." I refuse to admit aloud it's my fault because it's not.

Sure, I fucked Vanity, I cheated on her first, but that doesn't give her the excuse to do the same to me. 

"Fuck her." I repeat again.

I kept trying to convince myself I hated her. The truth was I hated myself, and was just trying to get that frustration out by turning on her. 

It was easy to do when I imagined her under Duff while I was across the world, suffering, telling myself repeatedly she didn't give a shit about me.

She was probably thinking of me under a random groupie the entire time I was gone, and I don't blame her. I stayed under random groupies any other time, so why would Japan be any different? Especially after she and I were separated and had no obligations to each other.

I didn't have sex in Japan, honestly. I couldn't. I was too fucked up. I would try to, but it just wouldn't go over too well. My body was give out from abuse, my hands were scabbed from picking, my skin ate up with track marks, my face was sallow. 

Fans would tell me they were worried I had the flu and I'd laugh it off and promise I was okay, then go to my room and stay locked in there until I absolutely had to leave. 

I was on smack, constantly, to the point I wasn't even high but just shooting smack as maintenance, which served as a good excuse when a big magazine reporter came to Japan to talk to me and the guys about the tour and when the topic of Vanity came up…

I try to keep from rolling my jaw as the loser starts his question cautiously, testing the waters to see if I'm going to cut him off and tell him to ask another question or fuck off, or if I'm okay with it. 

I remember Vivian's bullshit idea about me and Vanity wanting her to find out about the affair so she'd leave and we could be together. 

Why the fuck would I go through that much shit just to be with someone like Vanity? 

Leaving Vivian to be with Vanity is like leaving the frying pan to hop into the fire dick-first. 

With this in mind as, "so, who is she to you?" finally leaves his mouth in reference to Vanity, pen in hand, ready to jot my answer and spread it around America the second it leave my lips, I pretend to think for a moment, and finally reply, "she was my fiancée." 

#nikki sixx #mötley crüe #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx x oc #gateway drug

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Seventy-Seven

So sorry this was so late, guys. Thank you for the sweet messages. For those who don't know my cousin was found by her two little children yesterday morning. She's been a heavy drinker for the last few years and we suspect she was getting into drugs as well through her husband. She was only 26 and way too young to die. I always idolized her when I was little, and wanted to be just like her. I know everyone has demons and are imperfect but it's really opened my eyes that even people we put on pedestals have things they're working through, just like us. Addiction runs in my family (obviously because this is the second cousin we've had to bury this year due to drug/alcohol addiction), I just always thought she would make it out. Thanks again for your thoughts and prayers, it isn't going unnoticed.

Words: 5k

Warning(s): explicit language, violence, drug abuse, mentions of sexual assault

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"That's it?" I sneer at Nikki, on his heels after shoving Sparkie aside and leaving him in the dressing room, my hand reaching out to grab Nikki's wrist and snatch him back to me to keep him from walking away. "Not too long ago you beat the shit out of him for doing the exact same thing, Nikki, what the hell is so different now?" I demand, and he pulls away from me, his hazel eyes darkening with a looming sadness as he just looks down at me. 

"He's a fucking pervert, Viv. We know this, alright? Just kick his ass if you want to. I'm not gonna beat a dead horse." He dismisses me. 

What had changed was when he beat Sparkie to a pulp the last time, he didn't know about Duff. After discovering my relationship with one of his friends, it wouldn't have shocked him to find out that Sparkie and I were fooling around, too. I was a slut in his eyes, which was fine, because he was one in my eyes, too.

"Why the hell can't you just try to protect me, for once, Nikki?!" I snap at him, tears in my eyes, and he huffs out a huge breath, glaring at me. 

"Because I don't care, Vivian!" He screams.

"Oh, that's pretty evident, Nikki, that really is!" 

"I haven't protected you? You haven't protected me!" He throws at me, pointing his finger in my face. 

"Protected you from what?! Drugs?! The bullshit of fame?! People that want a piece of you just to say they're friends with Nikki Sixx?! I've tried! I've dedicated my fucking life to you! To making you happy, and making sure you were okay and every time I thought you were, you'd just go off the deep again!" I shout, a lump in my throat...my lost babies...my relationship with Duff..."I've protected you more than you even know, Nikki. And if I haven't, I've tried, and I'm still trying!" I outburst. 

His black-smeared eyes widen at my words, his jaw clenching as his nostrils flare. 

"You're still trying to protect me?" He asks, shaking slightly. "What exactly from, Vivian? Huh?" 

I blow him off, shaking my head slightly, about to walk away when he grabs my neck, making me squeak in pain. 

"You weren't protecting me from shit when you did that Playboy cover just to spite me. You weren't protecting me when you started fights with me over tiny shit, you weren't protecting me when you were hiding our relationship from people to begin with and you sure as fuck weren't protecting me when you hid your friendship with Duff from me!" He hisses out, his nose brushing mine, his hand still around my throat. "You want guys to respect you when you aren't worth a fucking thing which is why you had to get naked in a magazine to get validation in the first place." He adds viciously. "And as for Sparkie, you've made it pretty evident you'll wrap those pretty legs around just about anyone so excuse me for not thinking Sparkie is where you draw the line being that you're just another pussy to unload in and get on to the next attention-humping slut."

A satisfying crack sounds when my fist connects to his eye, making his fingers release my throat as he groans, stumbling back.

I wipe my tears, taking a deep breath as I shakily step past him, my eyes closing slightly as I wince at the unbearable “I hate you!” screaming past his lips, being hurled at me.

“You don’t get the luxury of hating me, Nikki.” I snap at him, continuing to walk away.

“You’re ungrateful and spiteful and selfish. Everything I have done for you--our lifestyle, our house, our--”

“And I never asked for any of it! I never wanted any of it! I just wanted you, Nikki!” I turn around to look at him once more, my voice cracking tiredly because we’ve had this conversation a thousand times before. “You didn’t have to do any of it for me but you did because you were trying to earn my love and respect but you already had it, I already adored you without the other bullshit, and you adored the excess and the groupies and the drugs!” I point out and he looks at me painfully, tears in his own eyes, out of anger, no doubt.

“I fucking failed you, Vivian, how many times are you gonna make sure I hear it?!” He yells back.

“Until you stop victimizing yourself and making me out to be the bad guy when you know damn well you did this to me! You ruined me, just like my fucking mom said you would!”

“I ruined you?!” He questions, his eye beginning to swell up. “I never forced you into a relationship with me, Vivian! You knew exactly what you were getting into when you got with me!”

“If I knew what I was getting into, I wouldn’t have given you a minute of my time, let alone six years of my life because you weren’t worth it!”

“I hate you!” He repeats, this time he really sounds like he means it, and I can’t help but give it right back to him as the words, “I hate you!” fly from my mouth before I can stop them.

He already deemed himself unlovable due to his mother only wanting him when it was convenient for her, and his father never wanting him to begin with...I only reinforced that, without meaning to, somewhere along the way.

“What the hell is goin’ on?!” Doc shouts over us and we look at him. “What the fuck happened to your eye?!” He pipes next, looking at Nikki.

“It’s fine.” He swats Doc away when he tries to take a look at it. “I can still play and make you plenty of money.” He adds in a hiss, shoving past him, shooting me one last death glare before leaving us.

“What the fuck happened?” Doc demands.

“I’m getting a divorce.” I state. “That’s what.”

When I turn around I see Izzy, his eyes hiding behind his shades, cigarette hanging from his lips as he trails behind me when I pass him.

“Ya know, it’d be easier if you didn’t add fuel to the fire, Viv.” Izzy tells me, not meaning any harm by it, but I’ve had enough.

“And my life would be easier if you were just dead.” I snap, slamming the bathroom door behind me.

I wondered what it would feel like if Nikki just knew about Duff and I. I wouldn’t have had that looming, paranoid fear, I wouldn’t have constantly been avoiding certain conversations altogether and I certainly wouldn’t have given Sparkie any ammunition...of course, it would have been the absolute end to our marriage, then and there--same day divorce, no questions asked…

“Nikki, just hear me out, please,” I plead, tears rolling down my cheeks as I tug my shirt on.

“How was it?” He asks me, fuming, and I furrow my brows, slightly.

“W-Wha--”

“--You said you wanted me to hear you out, Vivian, so I wanna know exactly how fucking one of my friends was?” He hisses, and I shake my head.

“You don’t need to patronize me, Nikki, I just made a mistake--just like you made with Vanity.” I tell him.

“Oh, my God.” He scoffs out, making a beeline for the tousled blankets in the living room floor in front of the fireplace.

“Nikki--”

“--When you found out about her you marched into the room, threw things around, called me every disgusting thing you could think of and wouldn’t hear a thing from me about why it happened but you do it, a-and it’s just a ‘mistake’ you made?” He asks me, his voice struggling to maintain it’s stern composure.

“I’m sorry, Nikki, alright? I am sorry, please don’t do thi--Nikki!” I shout as he throws the blankets into the burning fire, heading to our bedroom. “Nikki, stop!”

He starts stripping the sheets from the obviously screwed-in bed, next.

“You destroyed my shit when I cheated, why the fuck does it matter that I do it to you, huh?” He’s not even yelling, he’s surpassed the stage of “yelling” anger.

“Because I didn’t cheat!” I insist.

“Then why are you so upset that I walked in and saw you in bed with him, Vivian?” He asks next, keeping the tears in his eyes from toppling as he speaks.

“Because I didn’t want you to find out this way.” I admit, my voice shaking and hoarse from crying.

He throws the sheets at my feet, before silently going to his closet, grabbing his clothes as fast as he can.

“What are you doing?” I ask him, panic in my voice.

“I’m not sleeping here tonight, Vivian, I-I can’t.” He tells me.

“Nikki, no, we need to talk about this or-or something, please.”

“I can’t be here, right now, I-I look at you and I just…” He can’t finish, clenching his jaw. “...I’m not staying here tonight.”

“Then we can talk about it tomorrow, Nikki, just please--”

“--I don’t know when I’m gonna be back, Vivian, I don’t, so just leave it at that. You stay here as long as you want and he can, too, I don’t care anymore.” He lets out, weakly, grabbing the suitcase he came in with.

“Where are you going?” I hold back a sob and he ignores me. “Nikki, please, talk to me about this, I--”

“--There’s nothing to talk about. I slept with Vanity and you slept with Duff, we’re even now, and should both be done with this shit.” He continues packing quickly.

“Nikki, please don’t go, we can work this out like we’ve always done, please.” I grab his hand, my eyes swelling from crying, my nose running, but I don’t care.

“How do you expect me to feel sorry for what I did with Vanity when you’re trying to make everything better with another guy’s cum in you?” He asks me, calmly. “This marriage was obviously just damned from the start, so just call it what it is and let’s both get on with our lives.” He closes his suitcase, picking it up.

I’m pathetic with tears cascading down my face, giving one last "hail Mary" attempt as I hold to his arm that reaches for the door knob, and sob out:

“Nikki, please, don’t leave me like this, I don’t care about what happened with Vanity, just don’t leave me like this, can we please just talk about it and try to work on it, please, Nikki.”

He looks down at me, his own dam breaking just briefly enough for one of his tears to fall from his face and land on my lips, slithering through my slightly parted lips.

One last taste of him, before he’s shaking me off of him, and leaving me.

Yeah, I guess it’s good he didn’t find out sooner.

“Hey,” Duff’s voice cracks my thoughts, making snap back to reality as I look in the mirror, seeing him tower over me, and Stevie cheerfully bouncing on the balls of his feet, bringing a small smile to my lips, “Doc said you were in here.” Duff adds and I wipe my eyes, trying to avoid messing my makeup up any worse than it is.

“Yeah, I figured.” I reply softly.

“You just have one last night, okay?” Steven reassures me. “Just one more night and you’ll be outta this mess and back home.”

“Right.” I try to give my most convincing performance, grinning as best as I can...Duff clearly sees through it, clearing his throat a little.

“Vivian, if you wanna go back to the hotel, I won’t be mad.” Duff offers.

“What? And miss you guys’ last show on this tour? Are you kidding me?” I brush it off, my chest clenching as he looks down at me and Steven just raises a brow, their sweet faces obviously showing concern.

“You don’t have to act all tough around us, ya know.” Duff tells me, and I rub my lips together.

“I’m not acting.” I insist, shaking my head, turning back around to wipe the smudged mascara from under my eyes. “I’m tough as nails.” I explain, sounding as if I’m trying to convince myself, and them, of it.

“Duff, dude, Axl wants you.” Slash peeps his head in.

“Alright, man, I’m comin’.” Duff says. “See you in a second, k?”

I nod, maintaining my unbothered expression as he kisses my cheek, leaving me with Steven.

“You know, you’ve got a lot of shit on you right now, but...we’re not cats, Viv.” He tells me out of nowhere.

“What?” I ask him, confused.

“My grandma has this fat-ass cat, and he got sick and even though he was at his food bowl, he wouldn’t eat, he’d just make it seem like he was. My grandma’s vet told her cats pretend they aren’t weaker than usual to keep other cats from finishing them off.” He states and I let out a breath, nodding.

“You think I’m bullshitting to keep from making it worse?” I ask him, trying to keep my shaking voice at bay.

“I think when you and Nikki were still together and working on things, and shit was hell behind the scenes but seemed so glamorous on the outside, you didn’t pretend everything was fine to keep Doc off your case...you pretended Nikki wasn’t a heroin addict and your relationship was fine to keep other girls from ganging up on you and trying to steal him away.” He says calmly.

“Well, Vanity can tell you that didn’t work.” I scoff, sniffling.

“You don’t have to keep pretending everything’s fine, anymore, Viv.” Stevie states.

“I’m a woman, Steven. It’s not fine. Everyone is pinning my failed marriage on me as if it’s my fault he was on drugs, and sleeping with another woman, and--” I stop myself before I start crying, not wanting to refix my makeup. “--When it goes public, he’ll be praised for being a rockstar and knowing what he wants, and I’ll be scolded for not being sexy enough or fun enough or pretty enough or nasty enough or whatever enough to keep him happy and entertained to the capacity it requires to keep men happy.” I tell him, my voice rasping through the lump in my throat. “None of this would be a problem if I were just a freaking guy.” I add, laughing humorlessly.

He doesn’t have anything to say, opting to wrap one of his arms around my shoulders while the other wraps around my stomach, hugging me to him, his cheek resting against my hair as a tear rolls down my cheek, my hands find his, welcoming his embrace full-heartedly.

I predicted it.

Once the news of our divorce hit newsstands, it was automatically my fault, and when those “Nikki Sixx Files for Divorce from Estranged Wife” headlines turned into, “Nikki Sixx and Wife Retract Divorce Filing”, and then, “Vivian Sixx Announces Pregnancy Bombshell, Duff McKagan (Guns N’ Roses) is the Father”, all hell broke loose.

Things like, “Vivian Sixx: You Can Put a Ring on a Groupie, but It’s Still a Groupie,” and “*Insert whatever rockstar’s name I happened to be at the same social gathering as* and Vivian Sixx, Here’s What We Know,” were put on tabloids.

When Los Angeles Daily Times spun a bullshit story about me and my alleged affair with Jani Lane, who was engaged to Bobbie Brown--who was also one of my friends--at the time, and also claimed I didn’t get along with Bret Michaels or Bobby Dall because they were somehow my recent ex-lovers, Izzy and Steven went down to their office with a shotgun and threatened the moron who wrote the article.

An apology was issued publicly, rather quickly, as it should’ve been, but everything everyone said about me, and the situation, whether negative or positive, stuck with me for years, and it took awhile for the negative to be shaken off.

"We go on in, like, twenty minutes, Viv." He tells me softly and I nod. "I love you." He adds. 

"I love you, too, Stevie." I reply. 

His lips give a quick kiss to my exposed shoulder before he's leaving to go join Axl, Izzy, Slash, and Duff.

I fix my makeup once more, going to Mötley's dressing room to grab my purse and reapply my lipstick. 

Emi and Donna quiet down when I come in, they're sprucing their hair up, glancing at me, looking like they've been caught even though I didn't hear what they were talking about.  

"Hey, girls." I tell them, grabbing my lipstick. 

"Hey, Viv." Emi replies.

"Where the guys at?" I ask. 

"Vince and Tommy went to find some girls, Mick's talking to Doc, and Nikki…" they trail off, exchanging a look. 

"...Is in the bathroom shooting up. Got it." I scoff, using their mirror to smear red on my lips. 

There's a tension, as if they want to tell me something else, but don't exactly know how to. 

"What's up?" I ask them, next. 

They look away from me and I furrow my brows. 

"Girls, what's wrong?" I question and Donna sighs. 

"Sparkie just came in here and told us--randomly--that you and Duff have been sleeping together on this leg of the tour." Emi confesses, my nerves bunching up and frying. 

"W-What?" I ask. 

"He told us and then asked where Nikki was and we told him we didn't know because we didn't want him to tell him that because it's not true." Donna adds and my face tells it all. "Oh, my God." 

"Nikkk cannot know, he can't tell him." I insist, heading to the door. 

"We'll find Nikki, you find Sparkie." Emi offers. 

"Thank you." I tell them, opening the door, running into Nikki. 

"The fuck are you doing in here?" He questions me. 

"Um...girl talk." I lie as best as I can and he rolls his eyes, pushing me out of the way, sitting on the couch, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. 

I look at Emi and Donna, mouthing, "keep him in here," and they nod.

I shut the door, on the hunt for Sparkie. 

As I'm walking backstage, I notice how the crew is staring at me more than usual, even more than when my Playboy issue came out. 

I furrow my brows slightly, seeing Nikki's bass tech about to pass by, grabbing his arm and stopping him. 

"What's everyone's deal?" I ask him and he looks at my hand on his arm, and back to me. 

"It seems you've given people reason to talk about you...and Duff...again." he explains, alluding to me using Duff's in Playboy. 

"Did Sparkie--"

"--Yeah." He nods and I feel my blood boil. "Good luck." He gives me a small smile and goes on his way, making me shake my head a little as I look at everyone looking at me, whispering under their breath. 

I make a couple laps around backstage, managing to never find Sparkie, but I do see Tansy by the drink table, and I make a beeline for her. 

"Where's Sparkie?" I ask and she looks at me. 

"Oh, um, I-I think he went to talk to Nikki." She tells me. "He went to check in their dressing room, maybe? I'm not sure, he didn't say but he said he couldn't find him and headed that direction, why?" 

My heart hammers in my chest, and I can't bring myself to answer before I'm rushing back to the dressing room as fast as I can in my heels, opting to just take them off altogether and carry them in my hand. 

"Hey, Vi--" I shove through Vince, Tommy and Mick who're about to enter, opening the door in a burst, feeling tears pool in my eyes as I stare at Sparkie and Nikki sitting together on the couch. 

That's it. I'm done with. I'm fucked. Nikki knows. He knows. That's it. 

"Hey, Viv." Sparkie fauxly grins at me, propping his feet up on the small coffee table scattered with porn magazines, and I feel my stomach turn, my eyes shifting to Nikki, whose expression is too neutral for me to know if he knows or not. "I'm glad you could join us, I was just about to have a very important conversation with Nikki." He tells me. 

"Can I talk to you outside for a moment, Sparkie, please?" I beg, anxiety prickling at my nerves, glancing behind me when I hear feet shuffling, seeing we now have an audience of Tommy, Vince, Mick, Steven and Izzy, along with Emi and Donna who sit quietly in the corner, looking guilty for not keeping Sparkie away. 

"I think whatever you want to say to me, you can say in front of Nikki." Sparkie says, standing up and I roll my jaw. "In fact, why don't you tell him?"

"Sparkie." Tommy speaks up, causing the grease ball to look at him over my shoulder. "Dude, chill out." 

"What exactly do you need to tell me?" Nikki questions loosely, still in the clouds…

"Yeah, Vivian. What exactly do you need to tell him?" Sparkie smiles.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Is all I can come up. 

"I'm sure they do." He adds flatly, and Nikki stands up stepping to us. 

"What the hell's he talking about?" He questions me. 

"He's a lunatic, Nikki, I don't know." I shrug, the palms of my hands sweaty. 

"You don't know?" Sparkie raises his brows, stepping past me and Nikki to walk to the door. 

I know what he's about to do: drop the bombshell and leave me with Nikki to suffer. 

Anger takes over at the thought, how disgusting he's been to Tansy, how repulsive he's treated me, how cruel he's been to Nikki in terms of making him feel like he has to have heroin...I glance down to see the plunger of a syringe in Nikki's black boot. And I snap. 

My hand pulls the capped needled syringe from his shoe, and I get the cap off, the needle slamming into the skin of Sparkie's left shoulder blade, just after he's about to say, "I bet Duff knows," but he only manages to get out, "I bet Du--". 

"Vivian!" Tansy's screaming shriek rips through the room as I get Sparkie on his knees by bearing my weight on him while continuing to shove the needle in and out of him, stabbing him with it as hard as I can each time, arms wrapping around my waist and him, trying to get me off of him. 

When I realize I'm being pried away, I discard the syringe and claw my nails at his eyes, making him scream and holler louder while everyone's yelling at me and Tansy's sobbing. 

I feel the forceful pull of a set of arms around my waist, and two more sets of hands on my arms, finally plucking me from Sparkie. 

Doc, Steven, and Mick are all holding me at bay as Tansy looks Sparkie over, everyone else in shock. Except Nikki. 

Sparkie's a crying, babbling wreck. 

"Tell him now, bitch!" I bark at him, and he only wails louder. 

As sick as it is, hearing him that distraught brought me a joy I'd never known. Sick bastard had finally gotten what he deserved. Maybe it makes me a crazy bitch for doing it, but nobody else had the balls to try to kill him when we all wanted to, so I suppose I took one for the team. And you know what? I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Sick bastard.

"You cannot just start beating the fuck out of people--not even beating, this time, Vivian, he can go and press some serious charges against you and--"

"--Because he's a pussy." I snap and Doc snatches at my wrist, stopping me. 

"Because you stabbed him, repeatedly, with a heroin needle, Vivian." He grits out. 

"So, I'm supposed to care whether the needle I plunge, repeatedly, into a drug-hustling-rapist is dedicated to the use of smack or not?" I furrow my brows. 

"I'm not saying that--"

"--Then don't say anything at all because at this point, everything he's done to Tansy and tried to do to me, is inexcusable and I'll stab him a million more times if I damn well please, and anyone trying to talk me our of it is a Sparkie sympathizer and I assure you, you don't want me to find out you sympathize with him." I promise, turning to walk away. 

"I'm not saying he doesn't deserve it, Viv. I'm just saying that you weren't this violent six years ago." He states and I stop, rolling my jaw, before turning back to him. 

"Because I didn't have much of a backbone six years ago, and I cared about making everyone happy six years ago and I let people run over me if it made them happy six years ago and I was stupid and naive and had this idea that if I'm a good person, people will be good people back. But seeing how drastically my life has changed in a matter of two years in terms of my marriage and personal relationships and all the boozing, drugging and pussy-chasing in between, I don't have the grace or the patience to try to make people happy anymore. And that's not me being a crazy bitch, or a shitty person, that's simply me adapting and reacting to the environment I've been put in. I'm trying. I am doing my best. If my best isn't good enough for you then please walk to the back of the line of people waiting to deep throat my clit." I calmly tell him before going anywhere else to collect myself before the show starts. 

"Hey, Stripey Balboa." Izzy chuckles to me when I get in their dressing room. 

"Izzy." I roll my eyes, plopping down on the couch and he raises a brow.

"Have you gotten your barbarism out of your system yet?" He asks next. 

"I will once I shank you with a needle if you keep talking your shit." 

"I'm not talking shit. In fact, I admire your willingness to completely throw out your moral compass over a shit-smothered asshole like Sparkles and, by doing so, making me afraid and slightly aroused." He replies with a slick, sarcastic grin, before genuinely smiling. "Honestly, though, I'm glad it was you and not me because I would've killed him before drugs ever did." He adds, leaning forward and patting my knee before standing. 

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier." I say before he can leave, turning to look at him. "My life wouldn't be easier if you died. Yeah, I'd have one less person to worry about, but you're one of the people that makes my life good, so...I wouldn't know what to do without you." 

"Nikki didn't have any reason to cheat on you. I just said that to piss you off." He admits with a sigh. 

"So, we're good?"

"I don't even remember why we weren't good to begin with." He shrugs, giving a little wink before leaving me alone. 

After a few more minutes, I decide to go grab a Pepsi, standing up to leave, only to accidentally bump into a woman that seems somewhat recognizable, but also, not, at the same time. 

"H-Hi, um, i-is this where the band hangs out before the show?" She asks me, glancing around. 

"Um, yeah, most times...which band?" I reply and she raises her brows. 

"What?" 

"Which band? There's Guns N' Roses, and Mötley Crüe." I explain. 

"Oh, Mötley Crüe. I got in contact with their manager and he gave me directions and mailed me a backstage pass, so--"

"--Doc did?" I question and she nods.

"Yes, I tried to find him, but I can't seem to find any familiar faces so..." she trails off and I nod. 

"Okay, well, let's go find him, alright?" I suggest kindly, feeling bad at the fact she looks way lost and like a fish out of water as we walk down the hall. 

She glances at me for a moment, before clearing her throat. 

"You look even prettier in person." She says to me and I look at her. 

"Thank you." I reply. "So, are you a reporter or just a die-hard fan?" 

"Oh, neither." She says. "Where's your wedding ring?" She asks next and I'm at a loss for words for a moment. 

"Um, I lost it." I lie. 

"Oh." 

We continue looking for a couple more moments, to no avail. 

"They're probably grabbing some last minute stuff from the bus, but um, you're more than welcome to eat anything or drink anything you want while you wait." I motion to the table of food prepared for the guys and the road crew. 

"I was thinking I'd get to know my daughter-in-law a little better." She says next. 

"Oh, is she here with you?" I question, looking around, but she takes my left hand, looking blankly at my empty ring finger before adding, "at least I think she's still my daughter in law." 

#gateway drug #nikki sixx #mötley crüe #nikki sixx x fanfiction #nikki sixx x oc

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Seventy-Five

Words: 4k

Warning(s): explicit language, domestic abuse, violence, drug abuse

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"Hey, Nikki, c'mon!" The sound of Fred shouting on the other side of the bathroom door pulls me to my feet, making me swing the door open and catch myself on the side of the doorway before I can face plant. 

His expression is neutral, but I see it in his eyes...he knows they're losing me. "Three more nights to go," he reminds me, "make it count." 

I wipe my mouth, following him down the hallway, catching a glimpse of Vivian talking to Izzy while Steven's got his arms around her hips, pulling her to sit in his lap and she does, patting at his arms while he rests his cheek against her back and closes his eyes to rest a second as her conversation with Izzy doesn't skip a beat. 

Maybe she's sleeping with all of them. 

Not like it matters at this point. 

We're over anyway and I'll probably be dead before either of us can even file. 

She looks like she's about to look at me but I make sure to cut away from looking at her to avoid being caught, grabbing my bass from the tech as Tommy starts in on the drums, the screams of our fans echoing backstage as Mick, Vince and I head under the stage, my fingers lightly brushing against her crucifix around my neck for a split second. 

I'd stolen it when I found it in Duff's bathroom...when people asked me, "dude, how'd you take that news? You kicked his ass, right? You showed that cheating bitch, right?" 

Well…

The Night Before

"Hey, Nikki, man, can you help us with this?" Slash asks me once I get my room's door open, and I raise my brows. 

"With what?" I reply, confused. 

He motions down the hall, and I peek my head out to see Steven and Duff trying to push a desk out of Steven's room.

"We're fucking with hotel. We need help getting the desk, chair, lamp, and night stand from Steven's room into the elevator before someone needs to use it." He explains. 

"So they can have a more comfortable ride." Stevie pipes with a grin. 

I've been locked in my room all day and I won't get to see these guys until the end of next month starting in a few days, so…

"Hell, yeah." I agree, stepping out of the hall. 

"Where's your clothes man?" I ask Duff when I get to him and Steven, helping them push the desk along the carpet, to the elevator. 

He's in his boxers and a pair of his cowboy boots, and he replies, "me and this girl got in an argument and she stole my clothes."

I can't help but laugh. 

Poor Duff, he's probably never dealt with crazy, vindictive, mind-screwing women before. 

We get the desk and chair into the elevator before the doors try to shut, signaling someone needing to use it, and I'm snatching Steven out of there before it goes down. 

Whoever the fuck uses it will probably shit a brick once they realize it's gonna be impossible to get inside without crawling over the desk. 

After that, we get the elevator back pretty quick and finish the job before pressing every button in the elevator to make a stop at every floor, just to make people in need of it wait longer. 

"What're you guys doing?" I hear Viv's voice and turn to see her standing in the hallway with her room door open. 

"None of your fucking business." I snap at her, just as the elevator dings and the doors open to reveal all the fucking furniture, Izzy, and a groupie. 

They're sitting on the desk as if it's no big deal, and Izzy hops off of it and helps his lady friend down, the two of them looking at me and the guys. 

"Good one." Izzy tells us, nodding to the elevator and I chuckle as he passes by, lightly patting at my shoulder, saying, "goodnight, man." 

"Children." I hear Vivian mumble, shutting her door behind her. 

"She's not feeling good today." Duff tells me, trying to get me to drop it before I even pick it up. 

I don't listen, stomping to her door and banging on it. 

She opens it, and I sneer down at her. 

"We're having fun, what the fuck makes you think you can come out and shit on it when nobody even wants you on this fucking tour to begin with?!" I bark at her. 

"Nikki, all I said--"

"--I know what you fucking said because you've been saying it the past six fucking years. We get it. I get it. So just fucking drop it and mind your own goddamn business!" 

She shuts the door in my face, making me kick the door, before taking a breath, and turning to see Steven, Slash, and Duff, trying not to be too uncomfortable. 

"You guys got any booze?" I ask, knowing they do. 

"Yeah, man." Slash nods, motioning me to Duff's room. 

He hands me a bottle of Jack and I start downing it with no hesitation, wrinkling my nose at it's peculiar taste--more peculiar than usual.

"It's half Jack, half Vodka." Slash explains and I wrinkle my nose, my throat on fire as I cough. 

"What the fuck?" I ask, my head swimming, and he shrugs. 

"We got bored and figured we'd try it." 

"Don't let Viv know. She'll pour it out." I mumble, wiping my mouth, sitting on the foot of Duff's bed as he and Steven join us. 

"I know you two have a lot going on but go a little easier on her, man." Slash says to me, next.

"Yeah, you guys are our friends so seeing you fight is weird." Steven adds. 

"Like watching parents try to kill each other in front of their kids." Duff states and I sigh. 

"I know you guys are friends with her but you don't see what she's really like." I insist. "She's fucking nuts." 

"Trust us, we know." Steven scoffs. 

"She's a sweet girl, she's just going through a lot." Duff interjects, grabbing the bottle of jack/vodka from me, taking a sip for himself. 

"She was a sweet girl." I argue calmly. "Breakups just fucking make people unrecognizable. I don't see the chick I proposed to. I see a wicked bitch from hell that possessed her and just uses her body as a disguise." I add. 

None of them say anything, because they can't argue it. 

They see how we treat each other. 

It's a given I'll be an asshole, but when someone like Vivian starts spewing venom, it's because she's lost their fucking mind.

"I think I'm gonna be sick." I grumble, feeling my stomach wrench before I'm stumbling to the bathroom, vomit spewing past my lips into the toilet, my hand grasping the edge of the counter to keep myself from falling forward, the sound of the clink of metal against the floor as I accidentally knock one of Duff's necklaces to the bathroom tile. 

Once I'm done puking, I take deep breaths, closing my eyes for a moment before flushing the toilet. 

I reach for the necklace to put it back on the counter, before I get a good look at it. 

It's a small, sparkling cross a little too dainty for Duff...my stomach drops, my mind going back to the night I first met Vivian, when I first saw it around her neck and sneered everytime I looked at it. 

How she took it off before she and I fooled around for the first time, and everytime after that, until we got married…

My blood runs cold, another wave of nausea hitting me, bile rushing up in my throat before I can stop it, splattering onto the floor.

Maybe I would've been prepared had Vince told me what was going on. He'd found out after Sparkie got blacked out on smack and told him what he had discovered about saint Viv. 

It felt like a twenty-five pound weight had busted my balls. I didn't have time to think about it much in the moment.

"Gross." Steven wrinkles his nose a little as he peeks in to check on me. "I'll call the cleaning people." He adds, shutting the door, and I look at the necklace one last time before tucking it into my pocket. I'll confront her with it, later. 

I get out of the bathroom, Duff, Slash and Steven all looking at me.

"Dude, you alright?" Duff asks, smoking a cigarette, and I nod. 

"Yeah. I just feel like shit." I reply, trying to mask the fact I just found out he's been fucking my wife. "I'm gonna go lay down for a few minutes and see if I don't feel a little better." I tell them, stepping to the door. 

"Alright, man." Slash replies. 

"See ya." I mumble as Steven adds, "feel better, Sixx!" 

I get to my room, slamming the door, pacing, throwing my empty bottle of Jack at the wall and watching the glass shatter, my fingers raking through my hair. 

How the fuck could Vivian do this to me? How could Duff? My band gave his band a shot--a good one. I thought he and I were friends. You don't fuck your friend's chick. 

Okay, I fucked Roxy but that was different, I was high. 

Duff isn't into hard drugs and Viv's sober so neither of them have an excuse for it. 

A pit grows in my chest as I think a little more.

What if they were messing around back when she posed for Playboy? Maybe that's why he went with her…or maybe they've been at it since before Vanity let it out that me and her were together…that would explain why Viv hid him from me for so long.

My nostrils flare at the thought. 

Who the fuck does she think she is?! Cheating on me?! Does she realize how many girls would love to be married to me and here she is with my own fucking buddy. Heartless cunt. And he's an ungrateful bastard. I gave his fucking band a shot at getting what they've been hungry for and this is how he repays me? Nailing my wife on the very tour I invited him to play on? 

I take heavy breaths before stepping to the phone, dialing Tansy's room number. 

She's supposed to be back by now from her little break, and when I hear her answer, I sigh in relief. 

"Hello?" 

"Hey, Tans, whatcha up to?" I ask, grin on my face, knowing exactly what she's about to be up to, if she isn't already.

Tansy and I were like arsenic and cyanide. She was like Vanity--without the batshit craziness, or the sex. We'd hang out and just spend hours getting high together. I was one of her best friends, so it should've been my job to protect her, but if that were the case, I would've been encouraging her to throw her smack and coke out, instead of always wanting to hang out just so we could get high together like it was a bonding experience or something. Yeah, seeing each other at their fucking shittiest really bonds people to one another, right. 

It was a punch in the stomach when I found out about all the hell she'd gone through for years, that made her want to get lost in drugs, and eventually made her want to get lost past the confines of this life. 

A majority of her friends were protective "manly" men who would fist fight a pole if need be, well, Steven, at least. 

We were supposed to protect her. 

And I know, "Well, you didn't know." 

We would've known, had we paid more attention, and I wasn't paying attention because I was like a woodpecker with its head in a branch, except my head was in a pile of smack.

I hang my head over the toilet, vomit pouring from my lips as my head reels with dizziness, my veins aching as Tansy rests against the bathtub, slobber rolling down her chin from being in the same position I'm in only a few seconds ago. 

Our burnt spoons and sharp smelling foils are left to the floor as we're taken over by a monster bigger than ourselves, the sound of Slash, Steven, Duff, and Vivian's laughter from the hallway creeping past my door, slipping under the bathroom's door, pushing through the smoke and mirrors, nearly shattering my high before it even has its full start.

The next night results in the same outcome, only this time, I've decided to pick myself up with help from my favorite smoke, except the hit from the crackpipe comes with the expected.

Sweat beads down my back as I shake, curled up in the bathtub with the shower's curtain pulled, hearing the footsteps of my room's intruder. 

"Nikki?" A familiar voice calls softly, but the demon in my ear overpowers my want to go to her. 

I curl further into myself, squeezing my eyes closed, my shaking hand gripping at the cross around my neck that belongs to her. 

"If you're real just make it go away." I'm saying before I can stop myself. "Help me cut this shit, and give me my wife back." 

I knew I hit rock bottom when I prayed to a God I didn't even believe in…and I guess, in the end, my prayer was answered, but fuck if I didn't get in my own way.

I finally coax myself out of the tub after a few more minutes, seeing the light is off in my room under the door, before I open the bathroom door, my hair standing on end, my bare, ragged feet moving as quietly as I can move them as I pad onto the carpet, stepping to the bed where a figure is laid out, the shine of red hair across a pillow radiating from the bathroom light drifting into the room. Peaceful, sleeping features show no threat, but something wicked is beating in my head as I slowly approach her, my boney knuckle rubbing at her cheek, slowly, opting a tired, soft moan to leave her, her body shifting before stilling. 

I know it's bullshit. It's a facade. I know she's waiting for me to fall out so she can leech off of me. 

Fucking witch. 

If I pass out, she'll strike, and I won't make it out alive. 

Her nails are clawing blood from my arms as she gasps out, kicking her feet when my hands lock around her throat, my eyes glossing over as she tries to scream out. 

Her hand bangs, hard, against the wall the bed is against, her hands trying to fight me off as tears roll down her cheeks, her face beginning to turn a deeper shade of red. 

"Nikki, what the--Nikki, what the fuck?!" I hear Fred's voice, but I hear it as if I'm under water, my focus captivated completely as my eyes burn into Vivian's before I'm being snatched off of her and thrown into the floor. 

She's a coughing, gagging, gasping, crying mess. 

"What the fuck, Nikki?!" Fred yells at me and I look at Vivian. 

It's as if I'm coming back to myself, the reality of what I just tried to do…

What the fuck, Nikki? You already fucking shot her, and now this? If you don't get your shit together you won't have a fucking wife to patch things up with!

What am I saying? I already don't. She's fucking Duff. 

She's legally married to me, but emotionally she's already been single for months, now.

I didn't strangle her because I was pissed over Duff. I strangled her because in my fucked up paranoia I was convinced she was going to kill me, first. 

The truth was she wasn't. Duff, on the other hand, definitely considered it once he found out. But I don't blame him for it, now.

The next night, I feel my lip curl as I spot greasy, unkept hair, and scabbed, yellow skin. 

Sparkie's smoking a cigarette, his arm around Tansy. 

Its fucking pathetic. 

He's contributing to her demise--if not the reason it kickstarted in the first place--and she still looks at him like he's the only dude on the fucking planet and she can't get enough. 

My mind drifts to what would happen if by freak chance Vivian did decide to try something with him. 

It makes my skin crawl to think of Vivian in the same position as Tansy: doped up, exhausted to the point she can't fight back when she's pimped out by him, worn down…

The mere idea of it makes bile rise to the back of my throat. 

The fact Tansy's gone through it only adds to my nausea. 

I hold it in and step past them, glaring at Sparkie. 

"Stay away from my fucking wife." I threaten him and he flinches a little. 

Pussy. 

I spot Axl shooting a death glare at him from the corner of my eye. 

He looks pissed as a hornet, his sharp jaw clenching and unclenching as Vince and Tommy walk past him to get ready to go on stage. 

I hear Skylar crying from the dressing room with Sharise--they came down a few nights ago. 

I look back to Axl, tension getting tighter and tighter in his body. 

All it takes is Sparkie clapping his hands one good, loud, time, just to see Tansy's jittering, withdrawal-beginning, body nearly jump out of it's own skin. 

This does it. 

Out of fucking nowhere Axl is tackling him like a linebacker, not giving the walking incarnate of an STD time to think before he's beating the shit--literal, shit--out of him, the putrid smell taking up space backstage, making me and the guys gag as Fred, Doc, and Izzy try to get the pissed redhead off the junkie.

I expect Tansy to be screaming or crying like usual when someone gives Sparkie what his punk-ass deserves, but she makes no protest to Axl. 

I immediately look away when Viv comes into the picture, a look of worry on her face as Axl yells: "Bitchy little princess, I'll give you a fucking reason to go fucking shoot up!" 

The smell of Sparkie's shit continues to permeate the area as Doc and Fred get him away from Axl. 

Tansy just stands still, her big, blue eyes blinking at Axl.

I meet Vivian's gaze, noticing the cake of makeup covering her neck, and a pit is dug into my stomach. 

Fuck. 

"Dude, you good?" Tommy asks me, and I nod. 

"Yeah, just grossed out." I mumble, seeing Izzy leaning against the wall, dry heaving from the smell as Viv and Duff coax Axl down the hall to their dressing room.

Me, the guys, Emi and Donna all get into position, and I try to shake off all the shit that's happened, because we need to have a kickass show. 

As soon as mine and Mick's cue hits, and I'm face-to-face with thousands of people who all want a piece of me, I can't control uneasiness of my stomach, and when I take a moment to grab a drink of water, my throat ignites when I down a gulp of vodka, instead. 

What the fuck? 

I figure it's set aside for Mick, and try not to let it happen again. 

Only I do. 

Repeatedly throughout the show.

And that on top of smack, on top of the Jack Tommy and I chug during part of the show, leaves me sloppy as hell and stumbling off stage come curtain call. 

I see two Duff's stomping over to me, looking the most mean I've seen him ever look, Vivian on his heels. 

"Hey, man, wha--" 

I don't have time to finish my question. 

He knocks the shit out of me in the blink of an eye, and I stumble back, not able to react in time before he's shoving through Fred and Doc, giving another punch to my cheek, but I strike back this time, twice, before he just starts waylaying me relentlessly, Vivian screaming, stupid enough to try to get between us before Izzy's yanking her away. 

I feel my skin split under the pressure of one of Duff's rings, my vision spotty before he's thrown back by Fred and Axl. 

"You mother fucker!" He screams at me viciously as Doc comes to my side. "You stay the fuck away from her, you understand me?!" 

"Duff, it was an accident!" Vivian cries out hoarsely. 

"Look at your fucking neck! How is that a fucking accident?!" He's so pissed he's nearly in tears, too, and I feel my heart pound as I see where the makeup has been smeared off of Vivian's neck, revealing dark bruises in the shape of my fingers. 

"He was high!" Vivian insists.

"He was high when he shot you, he was high when he proposed to another woman, he's high everytime he treats you like shit, he was high when he fucking tried to kill you last night…" Duff rambles off, his face bright red. "...Stop excusing his bullshit with 'he was high', he's not high--that's just who the fuck he is, now!" He shouts, her feelings hurt from the looks of her expression. 

"Come on over here and see who the fuck I am, now!" I can't help but to spit out, even though I'm in no position to win a fight. 

"No, no!" Fred scolds as he and Doc are in front of me while Steven and Axl stay with Duff, trying to calm him down. 

First Axl and Sparkie, now me and Duff, all in one night. 

I bet Fred and Doc regret bringing them on tour, too, because I sure as shit do. 

If I felt like arguing anymore I'd ask Duff how my balls taste since that's where Vivian's mouth spent a good amount of time the past six years...if I wanted them to know that I know about them, I'd say it. 

If I knew it would make a difference, I would. 

But I know it won't, so I keep my mouth shut. 

#gateway drug #nikki sixx #mötley crüe #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx x oc

[xxisxxisxxis]

Deleted Scene: Gateway Drug

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.

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"Fool Me Once" -- [1987] 

I run a hand through my done-up hair, snagging it on hairsprayed strands, wincing. 

"Thank you for coming today, I know you're busy as busy can be but you made time for this, so, we appreciate it." Danielle tells me me as I sit down and she readies her notepad and pen, switching her recorder on to tape audio.

"No problem." I reply, glancing at Duff in the corner by the door. 

"I know this might be a little strange but I always like to start my interviews off with a icebreaker, if that's okay?" She offers. 

"No, that's fine." I tell her, getting more comfortable in my chair. 

"This philosophy we've been trying to pan out in some of our shoots is the difference between beautiful and sexy, and explore that notion and gauge if people even think there is a difference, so my question for you is: do you think there is a difference between 'sexy' and 'beautiful' and which would you rather be?" 

"Oh, my God, okay." I breathe out, laughing, and she joins me. 

"You said 'okay' so I asked." She reminds me and I nod. 

"Beautiful implies to more than just outward appearance, it applies to someone's soul and their spirit, their attitude, how they carry themselves, how they treat others, whereas 'sexy' literally means sexually exciting which is usually based on looks mostly." I point out. 

"Okay, and I also asked which you'd rather be--or which one you think you are." She rewords it. 

"You sure did, um…" I already know my answer, but don't want to make it seem like I want someone to tell me I'm pretty. "...I don't…" I sigh and she looks like she's dying to hear my answer, and so is Duff. "I'm pretty." I reply and she furrows her brows. "I mean, I think I'm decently pretty. I've been called beautiful before but I still have a lot to work on within myself before I feel comfortable with that. But I appreciate it when I'm called that." 

"And what about 'sexy'?" 

"Oh, no. I'm not." I say it matter of fact, and she looks stumped. 

"What?" 

"I mean, if I try I probably can be but just everyday I don't see myself as 'sexy'." 

Duff's laughter quickly erupts, and I look at him to see his hand on his mouth to stifle it before he clears his throat. 

"Sorry." He mumbles to Danielle when she looks back at him before turning back to me. 

"I assure you, Vivian, you are a very sexy, very beautiful woman." She promises. 

"Thank you." I smile shyly at her.

"Okay, I was wanting to talk about you a little bit because I feel like people know who you are but not much about you other than what's, I guess, painted on you in a certain way, so if you would tell me who Vivian Sixx is." She crosses her legs, brushing a hair from her eyes as she patiently awaits my answer. 

"Oh, gosh, nobody's asked me that, yet." I blurt, thinking for a moment as she brushes my comment off with a small giggle. "Um," Nikki Sixx's wife, maybe?, "to be honest I'm not sure." I chuckle out, rubbing my lips together. And she looks at me like she fucking pitties me. I force myself to save this close-call shitshow, giving Duff another look and he gives me an encouraging thumbs up as he mouths, "you got this." 

"I dance." I let out, and she raises her brows. "Ballet, not stripping." I clarify. "I have since I could walk." 

"You've never considered a professional career in it?" She asks me next. 

"I was going to but then plans changed and I put off school. But I do plan on going back and finishing at some point." I explain. 

"Did those plans involve your marriage?" She questions and I chuckle a little. 

"I got pregnant--or I thought I got pregnant. It wasn't until after we got married that I found out it was a false positive." I admit. "And I'm sure people are going to say that I was never pregnant, that I was just trying to trap Nikki in a marriage but that's bullcrap because nobody can 'trap' Nikki or make him do something he doesn't want to do, so..." 

"I can’t see him doing anything he doesn’t already want to do.” She agrees with a smile, glancing down at her notes before clearing her throat. “On the lines of Playboy, being that some of our executives saw you in the music video for ‘Girls, Girls, Girls’, you were voted ‘easiest on the eyes’ in this past weeks poll out of eighty-two other women.” She informs me and I raise my brows. “Does stuff like that flatter you or do you see it as misogynistic?”

“Well, um, firstly, I’m sure glad you said ‘on the eyes’ because I was about to ask you who started the survey and where do they live?” I reply and she laughs. “So, I’m glad it wasn’t what I thought it was going to be, but, um…” I lick my lips, letting out a breath. “...I don’t think it’s necessarily misogynistic so I don’t mind it, but I don’t really like the fact that there’s eighty-two other women at risk of feeling less-than now.” I admit. “I appreciate it, though. I’ll take it.”

“You don’t like competition?”

“I do but I’m pitted against women constantly in my personal life or the media tries to, at least, and it’s just stale at this point, you know? It’s stupid.” I rub my forehead.

“Are you referring to what’s recently happened with Vanity?” She blurts and I force myself not to be phased. “Do you have any comment on that particular situation?”

I look at Duff once again, screaming internally while faking a smile.

“It was honestly a misunderstanding.” I lie. “I know we’ve already said it was misunderstanding before but it truly was.”

“Have you spoken to Vanity since?”

“Yes.”

“So, you two are still on good terms, even though she told the world she was engaged to your husband?” She presses more and I brush red hair from my face, trying to keep my tears from growing in my eyes as I see Duff from the corner of my eye, looking at me sympathetically.

“I love her to death.” I say, honestly--even though I shouldn’t love her, I do. Even if she’s a part of the reason my heart broke, I still love her. Even if I’m not acknowledging her existence, I love her. “And I wish and pray nothing but the best for her.” I finish and she grins slightly, knowing she’s getting a good story.

"Is she a woman you've felt like you've needed to compete with?" She asks next, her words hitting me in the gut. 

"Subconsciously, maybe, but I've never gone out of my way to compete with her. I've never had to." 

"What about groupies?" She raises a brow. "Or do you care because you two have been married for a while?" 

"I'm sure a lot of women think, 'oh, I'm married to him so I've won', but I've seen guys take off their wedding rings before walking into a strip club or a bar and leave with three girls under each arm--a marriage doesn't solidify anything we think it does, it should but it doesn't so of course there's been moments where I've been pissed off about women doing everything they can to cross a line but, again, I don't wake up every morning and say, 'what do they have that I don't?' in comparison to groupies. They're termites: they swallow wood, ruin homes, and then it's on to the next." I say and she swallows uncomfortably. 

"Does that not contribute to society's stigmatic view on promiscuous women being 'sluts'?" She asks me. 

"Having sex with people doesn't make a woman, or a man, a slut. Pursuing a taken man or woman, knowing they are taken, makes a slut. Cheating on a significant other makes a slut." I state. 

"What about posing for Playboy while being in a relationship?" She counters. 

"Posing naked doesn't make someone a slut." I defend what I said earlier. 

"Just wanted your view on that since you come from a strict upbringing in the Christian faith, is all." She tells me. "Especially since your mother is bound to hear of all this and probably have plenty to say." 

"I haven't talked to my mother in years so if she has something to say but can't say it directly to my face, it's not worth hearing." I tell her. "My dad is the one I'm antsy about all this happening because of." I feel my skin prickle with nervousness because I never gave much of a thought to my dad seeing me on Playboy. 

"Do you have a good relationship with him?" She asks me, intrigued, and I nod. 

"Yes." I say. "I always will, he's the most important person in my life for sure."

"I think we all thought that'd be Nikki from the way we see you look at him in pictures and in passing." 

"Oh," I say it a little flat, a small inkling of a look coming to her face and before I plant any doubt in her mind, I add, "I'm still completely head-over-heels for him but my dad's always gonna be my number one." 

"Does he and your father get along or does your dad keep his distance, too?"

"No, no, he and my dad get along fine." I assure her. "He really keeps his distance out of respect for my mom, but lately he's been more involved, so...but, no, he doesn't have any problem with Nikki. He really appreciates him and all he's done for me, um, yeah, it's really a blessing they get along." 

At least he did. Before he found out Nikki had an entire mistress...on national television…along with the rest of the country. 

"That is very nice." She agrees. "And what about the other boys, do you get along with them as well?" She refers to Vince, Tommy and Mick. 

"Oh, yeah, absolutely." I rub my lips together.

"Is it true you and Tommy and Vince and our very own Tansy Lyn grew up together?" 

"Yes. I met Tommy in elementary school, and Vince and Tansy in middle school and we've been friends ever since." 

"What are they really like? Outrageous news reports, complaints from parents and the church, girls, parties, drugs and booze aside, what are they authentically like and how do you coincide with them and how has being alongside them from the start of their journey, to now, shaped you?" 

"They seem larger than life and it's hard to see them as anything but that, but I've seen them all be so overwhelmed indescribably with joy, and I've seen them all be completely broken and not know what to do, and I've seen them be piss poor and then have more money than God it seems, but they aren't these huge rockstars behind the scenes. They have diva moments, of course, but Tommy and Vince still act just like the boys they were when I first met them, and the same goes for Nikki and Mick. They act out for publicity, and everything in the press is obviously exaggerated but they're normal guys. They're honestly just regular, gross, messy, disgusting, perverted, immature stinking boys--talented, but still normal." I admit. "And I think the effect it's had on my life is just that I've had to mature faster than maybe I would have because it's like I have children. Like I'm constantly going and someone's going through a crisis whether it's Tommy one day or Vince the next, or whatever so keeping them out of trouble the best I can and then trying to be there and as present as I can be when they need me is stressful but it's rewarding. I like helping out where I can and they need all the help they can get so, it's really helped mature me a little more, I guess, is what I'm trying to say."

"I mentioned earlier their reputation within churches and religious groups and I'm curious as to know how you, as a Christian yourself, feel about songs like 'Shout at the Devil' which really got a rise out of politicians and church-goers everywhere, and most recently 'Wild Side'--which is a song that you are an accredited writer on--that's off of their 'Girls, Girls, Girls' album and is a mockery of the Lord's Prayer?" 

"First of all, to clear this up, I didn't write anything in 'Wild Side', Nikki asked what the Lord's Prayer was and I told him and his brilliant mind gave me a writing credit which will plague me the rest of my life, I suppose, but to answer your question...it's 'Shout at the Devil', not 'Shout with the Devil', therefor it doesn't bother me. Now, 'Wild Side' bothers me. A lot. But that's a way Nikki felt when writing it, and I'm not going to tell him those feelings aren't valid just because I don't feel the same way. That's not fair to him, and I'm certainly not ever going to tell him not to express himself and channel how he feels into his work because that's what makes music and art individual and unique. So, it doesn't matter how I feel. If it makes him happy and he's proud of it then that's that and if I don't like it or don't agree with it or find it insulting to my beliefs then I just, 'forgive him, God, he knows not what he does' and just get over it." 

"Do you think there will be a new 'Filthy Fifteen'?" 

"I would say Tipper Gore and her group of desperate, dry, housewives can go get screwed by other men because their husband's are clearly inadequate but then I suppose they can't find bigger pricks than who they're married to, so..." I blurt and she widens her eyes, a little smirk on her lips as she laughs. 

"I take it you weren't a fan of the censorship?" 

"The only plus side to censorship and stickering everything is that kids know what to play in front of their parents and what to save for themselves." I finish and she chuckles some more. 

I talked some more about marrying so young, what it was like being married to one of the biggest names in rock music at that time and so on, all while hiding the fact that once I left there, I was going to go back to the tour, sleep in a separate room than my husband, not talk to the friends I grew up with who were supposed to have my back, and be so completely miserable.

The moment Duff and I leave the room once I've said goodbye and thanked everyone who was apart of the process for my shoot, I feel lightheaded. 

"Viv?" Duff asks me, concerned, and I take deep breaths, bracing against the wall. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." I lie, nodding a little. "Just tired, I think." 

My voice cracks painfully and my tears are already beading at my lashline. 

"Viv, if you need a second--"

"--No, I'm fine. We gotta go." I deny, making myself walk again before he stops me. "Duff…" before I can argue, he's putting his bass down and pulling me to him, hugging me tightly. 

I give up, knowing that he knows me too damn well to buy my shit. 

I wrap my arms around him, burying my face in his chest, feeling my tears, hot against my cheek, soak into the fabric of his t-shirt as the warmth of his lips press comfortingly to my hair. 

#gateway drug

[xxisxxisxxis]

Preview: Gateway Drug | Part Eighty

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.

.

My dad always used to tell me, "wisdom is being young enough to get away with doing something stupid, but still knowing better."

I never paid any attention to it because I didn't have any stupid decisions lined up at the age of eight. Or thirteen. Or sixteen...I guess because I never experienced the art of bad decision making and their damnable consequences, all of that pent up stupidity broke loose when I was seventeen and didn't slow down until I was in my thirties.

Young enough to get away with doing something stupid…

"What the hell are you thinking, Duff?" His older brother yells. I'm listening with my ear pressed to the door, waiting in the hallway outside of Duff's apartment...trying not to be too mortifiedly embarrassed. 

"Matt, it's—"

"—You're fooling around with a married woman, Duff, I know exactly what it is!" He yells. 

"They're getting divorced, Matt, alright? It's not like I'm-I'm just sleeping with her for the hell of it!"

"She's getting out of a six year relationship and getting a divorce at twenty-three, Duff, don't you fucking think the reasonable thing for you to do is back off and let her actually process that before having sex with her?!" 

"It's not like I'm taking advantage of her! I'm not! She loves me—"

"—She's lost! She's vulnerable! She's confused! She'd fall in love with any bone head that was a good guy right now!" He shouts at him. "What are you thinking, Duff? I mean, honestly, what the hell are you fucking thinking?" 

"I-I don't know!"

"What the fuck happens if the media gets ahold of this? If mom finds out that her son is getting hot n' heavy in cars in dark parking lots with a married girl!"

It's quiet for a second.

"I would explain that they're getting divorced, and—"

"—Bullshit. You know what she'd say? 'Married is married until divorce is finalized'." He states. 

"I think mom would be pretty understanding, Matt. I don't think she'd judge me like you are or try to talk me out of it."

"You sound like dad right now, you know that? Just fucking like him." He cuts. "And it's bullshit because I know you aren't anything like dad which is why I'm so stumped right now." 

"It's not that big of a deal." Duff argues. 

"Has she filed yet?" Matt asks next, not skipping a beat. 

"W-What?" 

"Has he filed yet? Have they filed yet?" 

"I don't know—it's not my fucking business." 

"So you're just sleeping with her and you don't even know if they're even splitting up at this point? Of course not because she probably doesn't even know what she wants!" 

"She told me she's gonna divorce him." Duff tells him, certainty in his tone. 

"Well, actions speak a hell of a lot louder than words, don't they?" Matt fires at him.  

...but still knowing better.

The door opens quickly and I pretend I wasn't listening, taking a few steps back as Matt storms out, giving me a second glance before walking down the hallway to the stairs.

I peek into the apartment to see Duff pacing, not paying any attention to me still being out here. 

I take a breath before heading after him. 

"Matt," I say when I get to the parking lot as he goes to his car, "wait."

"You don't owe me an explanation about it, sweetheart, it's between me and my brother." He tells me calmly, getting into his car. 

"Do you have a girlfriend?" I ask him, catching my breath, before he can close the door. 

He looks at me for a second. 

"Do you? Or a wife or a boyfriend or something?" 

"I have a girlfriend." He tells me. 

"How long have you been with your girlfriend?"

"Like, almost a year, now." He replies, not seeing the point of telling me this. 

"I bet you're really good to your girlfriend, Matt." I say, and he slowly catches on, sighing a little. 

"I try to be."

"Nikki wasn't good to me. For years. While he was killing himself with drugs, he was killing me with how he treated me and how he acted and when you really love somebody you sit and make excuses for them to make however they're killing you seem justified, and it's not. It never is." I explain, a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. "And you don't realize it until one day you're watching a woman you loved and trusted tell the world she's been having an affair with your husband. And then those rose lenses shatter and it's clear. You've spent years of your life giving everything to someone who would probably trade you for an ounce of smack if he ran out." I sniffle. "I really loved him, and you're right, I do still love him. I do. But I also know I'd rather die than willingly throw myself back into that hell. I haven't filed yet, but I am going to when he gets back from Japan. And I do love Duff, and he's a very, very good man. I don't know the situation with you guys' father and it's not my business, but whoever and whatever your dad is...your brother is the farthest thing from it. And I know you are, too, just from the way Duff's always spoke of you and your siblings. I'm sorry for the trouble, and I know you're just trying to look out for him, but you need to be proud of him. Not for what you saw earlier, but just for the fact he's a really great person in a city filled with selfish pricks. You need to be proud of him, and he needs to hear that you're proud of him." 

He lets out another breath.

#gateway drug

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Sixty-Three

Words: 4.8K

Warning(s): explicit language, violence, angst

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"Viv?" I barely hear her voice as Tansy gently nudges at my shoulder, worriedly, while I'm staring at the TV after calming down from hyperventilating, my mind starting to collect itself as my sorrow begins turning into pure rage. 

"Vivian." Her voice becomes crystal clear and I'm shoving her away from me, into the floor, as I scream, "don't fucking touch me!" 

"Vivian, I'm sorry!" She pleads. "We couldn't tell you!"

"We?!" I grit out. "Who the hell has known about this?!" 

Her silence is speaking volumes and I roll my jaw, stomping to the door with her crying motivating my anger further. 

I'm banging on Tommy's door, hearing him and Nikki chuckling, and the second the door opens, I'm grabbing the full Jack bottle out of Tommy's hand and throwing it at Nikki. 

"How could you let this happen?!" I shriek at him, tears of anger streaming down my face as I start picking up everything in sight and throw it at Nikki. "What have you done, Nikki?!" 

"What the fuck, Vivian?!" Nikki's yelling back at me as Tommy tries to get me under control, but all I have to say is, "Me, God, and everybody just saw your fiancée brag about getting to marry you," and Tommy's stumbling back in shock, the look on his face is the same as Nikki's and they know they're all fucked. 

"Vivian--" 

I shut Nikki up by throwing a bottle of wine at him, missing him, but it smacks into the screen of the TV, causing a loud banging noise as glass goes everywhere,  before I'm grabbing a stray heel off the floor that one of the groupies left here with Tommy, hurling it at him and it hits him in the face, hard. 

"How could you do this to me?!" I cry out as he starts trying to walk to me, trying to keep his anger low, but I get away from him, throwing a hotel lamp at him, only for it to shatter on the wall behind him. "What did I do to make you hate me so fucking much, Nikki?! To make you pursue another girl--one of my friends--so fucking hard that you propose to her?! Am I just that fucking forgettable?!" I'm throwing dirty dishes Tommy's used tonight, all of them breaking when they miss Nikki by merely centimeters, hitting the wall. 

"Vivian, fuck it off!" He barks and I grab Tommy's switchblade off the nightstand, throwing it next, and it barely misses Nikki's face. 

"I hate you!" I say back. "I fucking hate you!" 

He's pouncing before I can grab anything else, tackling me to the bed, holding at my arms.

"I have done nothing but dedicate the last six years of my life to you, asking you 'how high' every time you have told me to fucking jump, trying to help you the best I could, and trying to keep my shit together for you and this is how you repay me?!" I'm overcome with sadness once more, a wave of sobs drowning me, and I try to get him off of me, hitting at his chest.

"Viv--"

"--How long has this been happening?! How long have you been fucking her?!" 

"Vivian, stop before you get us kicked out." He orders sternly, trying not to raise his voice anymore. 

"I am humiliated!" I wail out, pain threading through every layer of my voice. 

"What the fuck is going on?!" Fred and Doc come in with Tommy, I didn't even notice Tommy had left. 

I take a few breaths, pushing Nikki off of me and he stumbles back after I shriek, "Get away from me!" and sit up on the bed. 

"Vivian--" Doc starts. 

"Shut up! I don't wanna fucking hear another word because it's all fucking bullshit!" I seethe at him. 

"Vivian, we can talk about this calmly, because screaming--" 

"--No! I've had everyone's foot on my throat for the past four years, telling me how to act, how to look, how to make sure he's happy, and it just took less than 45 seconds for her to blow every fucking thing to fucking hell and let me know I did all of it for absolutely nothing!" I say through thick tears, bubbling anger starting to rise within me again.

I'm suddenly lunging and clawing at Nikki's face and neck before I can stop myself.

"Vivian!" Nikki hollers, his face bleeding as he tries to swing at me but Doc blocks him, yelling, "both of you calm the fuck down!" 

I'm starting to breathe quickly, my whole body feeling heavy as Fred and Doc keep us separated.

"How the hell did this happen?" I ask him, more so demand.

"Vivian," Doc says, catching his breath. "We'll talk about it later."

"I just found out…" I can't bring myself to say "my husband's been cheating on me" without feeling like I'm going to vomit. "...and you just wanna talk about it later?" I ask him, appalled and he looks at Nikki. 

"I'm not…" Nikki trails off, shaking his head, looking as if he's about to cry before heading to the door and slamming it shut. 

"Oh, God, please." I beg, holding at my aching chest, my eyes squeezing closed as tears topple down my cheeks. 

"Come with me." I hear Doc lowly say to  Tommy. 

"Viv," Tommy slowly starts and I shake my head at him. 

"You were suppose to protect me." I hold back a sob. "You've always protected me and when I needed you to the most...you  were suppose to protect me and you didn't." I finally muster out and tears break over his lashes.

Before he can say anything, Doc's leading him out of the room, leaving me with Fred. 

"Vivian," Fred says, genuinely concerned. 

"I-I-oh, God." I can't make myself speak, tears and snot running down my face but I don't care, and he nods as I shake my head a little.

He just grabs one of my hands, squeezing it, comfortingly. 

We got kicked out of that hotel and because of my tantrum, we had to pay them back for the broken lamp and TV, but I didn't care. 

 I had done everything. Everything I could, everything I was told to do, and it still wasn't enough. I still wasn't enough. My best still wasn't enough.

I lay on the bathroom floor of our new hotel with the door locked, not crying as extensively as I was, but it's a steady stream of tears puddling on the floor, as everything I overlooked runs through my mind. 

Those nights I'd come home to see Vanity passed out in my house, the way everyone would get a little uncomfortable when she would hint at something and I was the only fucking one that didn't think anything about it...the fucking "V" tattoo on his arm that he played off as a five, when he just as easily at least could've have said it was for "Vivian" or something. Anything. 

"You are the world's biggest fucking idiot." I whisper to myself. "How could you be so stupid?" 

I'm so tired, I've been crying for the past four hours, but anytime I try to sleep I can't. It's not because I'm on the floor and I'm uncomfortable, but because my mind won't quit replaying every scenario there is imaginable of Nikki and Vanity touching each other. 

A one night stand would have been something I'd still be shattered over...but an entire relationship?

I don't even want to know how long it's been happening. 

I just want to sleep. 

"Vivian." I hear Vince say from the other side of the door and I sniffle, not wanting to talk to anyone. "I'm sorry, alright? But what the fuck did you expect? We're rockstars. It's common sense how we live. You should have known Nikki wasn't an exception to that, when you married him." 

"Get out!" I scream at him, getting all the strength in me to open the door and shove at his shoulders to the room door. 

"Vi--"

"--Leave me alone!" I demand, snatching the room key from him before opening the door and pushing him out, slamming it shut, resting my aching forehead against the cool wood. 

I try to take deep breaths to calm down, but I'm unable to. 

I slide down the door, my mind continuing to race.

I couldn't sleep at all.

My eyes, nearly swollen shut from crying for two days, are glued to the screen of the TV set before me, Doc, Fred, Nikki, Tommy, Vince, Mick, Tansy, Sparkie, Donna, Emi, and everyone else at risk of being asked about this shit show by the press, as a recording of Vanity's interview is replayed to us.

"Yeah, I'll be Vanity 6 once again. Isn't that nice?" 

 "I heard that--now, Nikki, uh, he's not ma--"

"--Mötley Crüe." She states what he's known for and cuts Arsenio short. 

"Yeah, I read about Nikki in, uh, Fresh Magazine."

"Oh, no, you've read about him." Vanity says, causing the audience to laugh uncomfortably along with Arsenio. 

"Is he here?" He asks.

"Texas. He's in Texas." She explains. 

"He's in Texas with Mötley Crüe."

"Right." She nods. 

"And they're probably partying with some chicks up in the room." He jokes, trying to carry on as smoothly as possible with this whirlwind she just dropped.

"Oh, I'll kill him." She laughs out. "I'll kill him." 

Again, everyone laughs. 

"When are you getting married?" 

"Oh, probably December, maybe Christmas, maybe New Years, we haven't decided." She replies. 

"Are you--you seem like you're in love, you're very bubbly, you're glowing." Arsenio points out and she nervously rubs her forehead. 

"Oh, I--I know, I feel stupid, I know. I look stupi--"

"--No, no, that's great." He argues politely. "And this ring is something else." He states as he looks at it. "You don't get no crackerjacks with this, I mean that's a nice ring." He chuckles, along with her and the crowd. 

Doc stops it there, anger of the highest degree on his face as he glares at Nikki, who's got his sunglasses on and refuses to even look my way. 

"I told you--" Doc stops talking for a moment, nearly shaking, having to take deep breaths. "--when you got together with that coked out bitch to not be--" he loses it, throwing his bottle of water at the wall, "--fucking messy!" He yells. "We have done everything we could possibly do to help you and what do you do in return? Bend all of us over and just," Doc thrusts his hips forward a few times as if he's screwing a girl, "fuck all of us!" 

Nikki let's out a heavy breath.

"Her sister called last night and that ring she's flashing around, Sixx, is Viv's." Doc states and I feel my bottom lip shake as more tears come to my eyes. "You can't tell me you didn't play a part in this shit. You can't. Vanity's crazy, but she didn't just wake up one day and decide to say she's engaged to you. You helped prompt this. You can't tell me you didn't." He points at Nikki and Nikki sits quietly. "Jesus fuck." Doc sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay. Okay. This is what we do. I've been on the phone for the past two days with the office, the label, Vanity's people...and everyone agrees that playing this off as a misunderstanding on Vanity's part is the best option." He tells us. "What she said about being engaged to Nikki is-is technically right thanks to his fucking smack and crack binge that lead to that bright fucking idea--but instead of accusing her of lying, we'll say it was a 'misunderstanding'." Doc replies and I squeeze my eyes shut. "It could get ugly for us if you two are at each other's throats over this, publicly, so you two are just gonna have to play nice for the cameras and hash this out behind closed doors." He adds. "Because if we say it was a misunderstanding but you two are having issues, they'll know we're bullshitting."

"What if I want a divorce?" Nikki--Sikki--boldly asks and Doc clenches his jaw while I brush away tears as quickly as possible, playing it off. 

"You can split when this tour is over, that way you can blame it on something other than asking another woman to marry you while you've been married to the girl you've been with since 1981 for four fucking years."

I'm too exhausted to protest the idea of staying with him until the tour ends. 

I just want to go home. 

"So if anybody asks any of you about it 'no comment' the fuck out of them. And if you absolutely have to say something other than 'no comment', you laugh a little bit to make it seem like it's nothing, and tell them--verbatim--'It was a complete misunderstanding.' And if I find out anybody doesn't answer with one of those, word for fucking word, you're done." He threatens in a serious tone. 

I've never seen Doc this mad. 

"Do I make myself clear?" He asks us and everybody nods...except me. "Viv?"

"I want to go home." I tell him. 

"If you go home right now, it'll look like something's up--"

"--Something is up." I let out hoarsely and everyone lets out a sad breath. "I just want to go home for a couple days." I say, my voice cracking.

"Not like it's gonna do you any good to run home. They knew about it, too." Sikki mocks me, referring to Duff and the guys. 

"Dude." Tommy says to him as if wanting him to shut up. 

I just get up and go to walk out of the room, stopping in front of Nikki, getting in his face.

"Burn in hell." I say and he turns his head to look at me, smirking. 

"That's the dream." He replies.

I get out as fast as I can, Fred following after me, and the second I get out, I'm throwing up, hoping nobody in there heard, especially Nikki. I feel like his inner evil fucking psychopath junkie will delight in my discomfort. 

He was angry because I refused to see him after he had tried to get Fred to convince me to speak to him. 

I didn't know what to say to him, and I didn't want to hear anything from him, yet. 

I just needed to get away from him for a few days and think about what I wanted to do. 

Did I want a divorce? Did I want to pack my shit from the house and never go back to him on tour and send him the divorce documents in the mail? Did I want to try to fix things? Did I think things could even be fixed at that point? I didn't know what to do, other than go home.

I finish packing all of stuff into my suitcase as Fred comes in, clearing his throat. 

"Look, I, uh...I talked to Doc. He decided it's a good idea for you to go back home for a couple days and come back with a clear head--well, as clear as it's gonna get." He explains. "But, the Rolling Stone dude is still coming on this week, so Doc wants you gone no longer than three days." He adds.

I completely forgot about Rolling Stone wanting to do a big issue on Mötley Crüe's tour in the midst of everything that's happened recently. 

"Which of course now, they're definitely chomping at the bit to get to nitty-gritty on everything and if you're not here, that's gonna send off some red flags, according to Doc." He explains and I let out a groan. 

"But Doc's currently getting you a flight for this early this evening, and I'll drive you there and we'll get someone to pick you up." 

I don't reply, letting out a breath and he gives me a small smile. 

"It'll be alright, Viv." He assures me. 

"I've been telling myself that since 1981. Nothing's fucking alright."

Going out in public was a mistake from hell.

 Every reporter outside of the airport here is shouting "Vivian" followed by invasive questions about Vanity and Nikki, and I'm happy I have my sunglasses on so they can't see me about to burst into tears. 

"Vivian, are you going home to file for divorce?!"

"Is Nikki and Vanity engaged?!"

"Are you and Nikki divorced without public knowledge?!" 

"Why aren't you wearing your wedding ring?!" 

"We were under the impression Vanity was your friend?!" 

"Is this a polygamous relationship?!" 

"Do you have any comments on the recent bombshell about Vanity and Nikki?!" 

"Bless their hearts." I reply with a sarcastic smile, damning Doc's little gag order. 

This causes them to start popping off my questions like a swarm of piranhas.

I'd be hearing about that comment I made, from Doc,  the next day.

I'm praying there isn't a swarm of press outside as I make my way to the front exit of L.A.X., but my prayer is answered, kind of, when I only see Axl waiting for me with Duff's car. 

We don't say anything to each other until we get to the first stop light on the road. 

"It's fucking shitty we didn't tell you--"

"--Axl, I don't wanna hear it."

"No, let me finish." He demands. "Look at me." 

I sigh and glare at him. 

"We wanted to tell you, Viv."

"Then why the hell didn't you?"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me, honestly, matter-of-fact, without a doubt, if one of us came to you and told you Nikki and Vanity were seeing each other, you wouldn't have lost your fuckin' mind?" 

I don't say anything. 

"We've been trying for months to get him to leave her alone, or come clean to you, and he'd just say, 'I'm working on it'. We had no idea they were that fucking deep into it."

I roll my eyes, my eyes blinking back tears.

"I'm being serious--Viv, hey." He says and I look at him. "If we would have known that, that's how you would have found out, we would've told you sooner. I swear to fucking God, Viv, we woulda told you sooner if we knew that's how you would've found out." He promises. 

This is possibly the most sincere I've ever seen Axl.

Which lets me know he's being honest. 

No matter how angry I am at them, they didn't tell me to save my feelings. 

Their intentions were pure, but horribly executed. 

When we get to the Franklin, we walk in to see the guys in the living room of Axl's place, watching cartoons. 

I don't say anything to Izzy, Duff, Steven or Slash, and none of them try to speak to me once Axl gives them the look that says I'm not in the mood to speak about anything. 

"I'm gonna shower." I say, taking myself to the bathroom with my stuff, locking the door behind me.

I shower, then proceed to stay in there, avoiding everybody and everything, until I hear a soft little knock, and Stevie's voice.

"H-hey, Viv? We got some food...if you're hungry, I mean." He says on the other side of the door and I exhale.

"I'm not hungry, Steven." I say, sniffling, wiping tears away that have been flowing since I turned the shower off. 

"Are you gonna stay in there all night?" He asks next.

"It's my business if I do." I snap back and he lets out a breath. 

He doesn't say anything else, I just hear him walk away. 

Steven, as nice as he always has been, had no problem setting someone straight if needed. He was never aggressive with me, because I usually stayed on his good side, but if someone rubbed him the wrong way, he'd get in their face and ask them what the fuck their problem was. I expected him to break into that bathroom and ask me what my problem was, but he knew what my problem was, I guess…

...Izzy on the other hand…

"Izzy, what the hell?!" I yell as the door swings open after he picks the lock. 

"We're fucking pieces of shit and the assholes they come out of, I get that. Axl gets that. Stevie gets that. Duff gets that. Slash gets that. We understand collectively that we are gross for not telling you. But we didn't tell you in hopes your dumb-fuck husband would wise up, like we have all been trying to get him to do, and break things off with the bitch. But he didn't. But we were hoping he would so we wouldn't have to witness your firey wrath sent straight from the gates of fucking hell. But we are anyway, apparently. We tried dropping hints. Countless hints. Obvious hints but you were too busy getting fucked by cupid and having a too perfect view of love to notice. But we tried. Extensively. If we knew she was going to embarrass you like that, we wouldn't  have kept it from you, at all. But it's too fucking late now, and we can't do anything about it except just be here for you, I guess, but you coming home and being a bitch to us for not telling you something that would've been so fucking obvious to you if you would have paid a little more attention, is fucked. Next time we'll just tell you he's fucking one of your best friends and rip the fucking bandaid off." He says to me, stunning me. "Now quit hogging the bathroom because some of us need to use it."

I can usually take Izzy's tough love, but this time, I can't.

"I gave her a key to my house." I say randomly, more tears coming to my eyes. 

"No, no, you're suppose to tell me to go fuck myself." He says. 

"And the codes to our gate and...24/7 access to my husband, and I was too fucking stupid to realize I was just letting her have him anytime she wanted him." I choke out.

The door cracks open a little to reveal Duff behind Izzy, and he cautiously steps to me, hugging me tightly to him.

One thing I was beginning to realize: the first thing I said to Nikki was, "how could you let this happen?"  

 I was beginning to see that it wasn't meant as a "how could you let yourself do this to me?" but as a "how could you let her embarrass me like this?"

I knew something was up, subconsciously, I had this feeling that I knew something but I didn't know what exactly I knew until I was publicly humiliated over it.

I spend the rest of the night not speaking to anyone, not necessarily because I'm still angry, but because I'm just not in a talking mood. 

By the time everyone else is going out, Duff and I are heading back to his place so I can try to sleep. 

"You can have whatever side of the bed you want." He lets out, a little awkwardly being that we haven't spoken all night. 

I nod, going to the side of the bed I slept on the last time I stayed here. 

He looks as if he wants to say something else to me, but chooses not to as I get into bed with him, turning my back to him, hoping to get some form of rest, but even a couple hours later, it never comes. 

I lay next to Duff, his soft snoring sounding through the small room, his bare back to me, and in the lights from the street that are filing through the window, I can see the smattering of acne scars along his back, and I can't stop my hand from reaching out, grazing over them. 

He moves a little in his sleep and I let out a breath, tired of being awake with my own thoughts that are just overflowing with whispers of Nikki. 

I wish I was in bed next to him. 

I wish he never would have done what he did in the first place. 

I wish I wouldn't have been so naive.

I wish I would have listened to my gut before we got married. 

Finally getting tired of it, I pull myself up and stumble to the kitchen, looking around until I find a bottle of NyQuil syrup.

I take the correct dose of it to maybe help me sleep before going back to bed. 

 "Will you quit it?" I grin, chuckling as his lips brush against the space between my shoulder blades as he hovers over me while I'm laying on my stomach at the foot of the bed. "I'm trying to finish this." I add, referring to the blank paper before me and the pen in my hand. 

"You weren't worried about writing it for the past two hours." He teases, peppering my bare back in kisses and I giggle, trying to worm him off of me."You're almost done with school, what's one missing paper gonna hurt?" He questions. 

"It'll hurt when it counts as a chunk of my final grade and I haven't even gotten a thesis statement figured out. And if I when I bring home a crappy final grade, I don't think my mom will appreciate, 'I couldn't do my thesis paper because I was too busy fucking your worst nightmare that I snuck in through my window'."

He lets out a scoff, kissing my skin one last time before I'm turning over to face him, still holding the pen and paper in my hand laying above my head, my other hand tracing over his cheek.

"I can write it." He says after a moment of thinking and I furrow my brows. 

"Write what?" 

"Your paper." 

"You want to write a thesis for paper for twelfth-grade English?" I have to stop myself from laughing.

"Sure." He shrugs. 

"Didn't you drop out of school?" I question and he snatches the pen and paper out of my hand and sits up, grabbing the book I was using as a hard surface to write on. 

"If I can write a song, I can write a thesis paper." He states and I raise my brows. 

"Whatever you say." 

My eyes slowly blink open, and my whole body starts hurting again, gut wrenching pain that's suffocating my heart in a stronghold as my swollen eyes start to weep again. 

"Oh, God, please. Please, God." I beg, trying to be quiet enough not to wake Duff up. I'm not sure what exactly I'm praying for, I just know my spirit is crying out for mercy and relief of any kind. 

He spent a couple days writing that paper, collecting sources and proof to back his thesis statement: 'The way today's christian and conservative groups view and sacrifice secular music genres, specifically rock n' roll, and the artists within those genres, is completely counterproductive of the teachings of who they worship because their approach is judgemental and belligerent.' I just copied it word for word in my handwriting and kept his original work of it which is framed and hanging in our house today.

Those were the main memories that would replay in my dreams: us when we first started fooling around and slowly seeing each other exclusively.

Small little things that just added more reasons to why I was so in love with in to begin with.

Things we completely lost sight of by 1987. 

Those were the ones that would hurt like hell to wake up from.

I'm unable to fall asleep again, so I take another dose of NyQuil, and wait for it to go in effect. 

I fell asleep, but woke up every couple hours, and immediately started crying each time, not forgetting I was heartbroken in the slightest because I'd dream of Nikki. 

I'd just lay there saying, "God, please," not knowing what I was praying for him to do.

And, in a slightly irresponsible and reckless attempt to go back to sleep to stop the pain,  I'd take another dose of NyQuil every time, not thinking anything of it because it was an 'over the counter' drug. After taking four maximum doses of the stuff in a 6 hour period, my body started freaking out.

My heart is pounding in my chest, my breathing trying to compensate for what feels like an inability to get enough air as something in me is telling me to wake Duff up.

"Duff, Duff." I gasp out, shaking at his shoulder and he wakes up, confused, tired eyes looking at me. 

Apparently it just takes one look at me to wake him up fully, because he's sitting up as fast as he can. 

"Something's not right." I say breathlessly. 

"Viv?" He asks, at least I think that's what he says.

His hand suddenly grasps at my wrist, his fingers on my pulse point, and his eyes widen. 

"We gotta get you to a hospital." He replies as calmly as he can, but I can tell he's frantic in his mind. 

#nikki sixx #mötley crüe #nikki sixx x oc #nikki sixx fanfiction #gateway drug

[xxisxxisxxis]

Deleted Scenes: Gateway Drug

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.

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"No Show" -- [1992]

I furrow my brows slightly, the sound of my heels clicking against the tiled floor backstage as I round the corner, seeing Matt, Slash, Duff, and Gilby, guitars and bass in hand while Matt’s got his drumsticks, stringing in competent melodies around. They’re obviously drunk off their asses, probably even a little more than just drunk.

“Where’s Axl?” I ask them, glancing around.

“Didn’t show.” Gilby pipes, blowing cigarette smoke past his lips, a doofy smile on his lips as if it’s not a big deal that Axl skipped out.

“Well. He showed. He didn’t showed for long, though.” Matt adds, his words completely miscombobulated, holding back a laugh.

“That’s supposed to be funny?” I question him, my eyes shifting to Gilby. “And since when do you smoke?”

This gets a rise out of all them, causing them to giggle and laugh.

“Just calm down, mom.” Slash lets out teasingly.

“So, what, Axl just walked in, saw you all like this and left?” I ask, ignoring Slash.

“He bitches at us for not having our shit together then he won’t even rehearse.” Matt gripes next and I just look at the men, nodding slowly.

“Rocket Queen.” I tell them and they look at each other.

“What?”

“You wanna rehearse, rehearse. Tansy gave me the set list. Rocket Queen’s the first song. Go.” I order, sitting down as they struggle to pull each other up, laughing.

It takes them a moment to get their shit together, and within the first thirty seconds it’s obvious they are barely competent enough to play right. It doesn’t sound awful by any means...but they’re lackluster compared to usual. Picking up on this, they all fizz out, sighing and giving up, reaching for their bottles to drown the reality some more.

“We’ll work the kinks out like we always do.” Duff tells me, spitting a wad of spit onto the floor below the stage, his hand rubbing over his forehead, his bloated face smiling innocently as a nervous chuckle comes from him.

“You fellout on stage last night, Duff. Was that an unworked kink or part of the show?” I reply, crossing my arms and he shuts his mouth. “Matt, you were so blown out on coke you wouldn't leave your closet for a week. Slash, you turned blue not too long ago and, Gilby…” I trail off, not knowing what to say exactly. “...You’re too good to get caught up in their horseshit, so why bother?" I finish, looking at them, disappointed. "Maybe Axl didn't hang around for rehearsals because he doesn't have much of a band to rehearse with, anymore." I tell them, turning on my heel to go.

"I heard you used to be more passive!" Matt calls after me, boldly, and I stop in my tracks and look at them one last time. "I can't say I believe it because you stay on our dicks more than groupies." He adds, taking a swig of his drink. 

"Glad you're able to form sentences again, Matt, 'cause anymore it's just incoherent babbling from all of you." I brush off his words. "None of you guys are tough enough to kick shit on down the line." I refer to Mr. Brownstone, a song they're obviously into playing out in their lives, and I keep walking. 

"Viv!" Duff calls after me, but I keep going, making it to the car that's taking me to the airport to go home. "Viv, wait!"

He follows me out, grabbing my wrist, stopping me. 

"Look, I'm sorry about the booze and the coke and the...whatever, passing-out shit, alright? Just, don't be pissed at me." He tells me. 

"You married Linda on a boat." I state. "I didn't even know you had a girlfriend or whatever and then I see you and her posing for wedding photos for a ceremony I wasn't even invited to--let alone even know was taking place. Then I find out I haven't ever heard you talk about her because she wasn't anyone special, in particular, she's just your drug buddy. Which made me feel even more stupid to think you'd be any better than Nikki." I tear up, licking my lips. 

"Vivian, I didn't know how to tell you…" he says as best as he can. 

"...I pray every night that you finally get some of your senses back because I can't keep doing this." I go to get back in the car but he stops me. 

"Can't keep doin' what?" He asks and I ignore him, only for him to stop me again. 

"This. Seeing you like this. Seeing all of you like this! I don't recognize anybody anymore and it's just getting worse." I give up and confess. 

"Then I'll fix it, okay, whatever you want me to do, Vivian, I-I'll do it." He grasps at my hand. 

"I don't want you to do it for me, Duff. I want you to do it for you. And until you can--"

"--You're not breaking up with me, Vivian." He shakes his head a little. "Not again." 

"Duff, I know there's a lot more going on than what you're telling me, even more what I'm seeing, and I don't want to be caught up in that." I calmly explain. "So, just...give me a few weeks to think about everything and I'll bring Monroe back to visit, alright?" 

"Vivia--" I cut him off with a kiss on the cheek, smiling sympathetically at him. 

"I love you. Get some rest. I'll see you soon." 

#gateway drug

[xxisxxisxxis]

Preview: Gateway Drug | Part Seventy-Five

Hey guys, little different, the preview isn't from the same scene, it's two excerpts from the same chapter. Have a good night!

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.

.

"She's not feeling good today." Duff tells me, trying to get me to drop it before I even pick it up. 

I don't listen, stomping to her door and banging on it. 

She opens it, and I sneer down at her. 

"We're having fun, what the fuck makes you think you can come out and shit on it when nobody even wants you on this fucking tour to begin with?!" I bark at her. 

"Nikki, all I said--"

"--I know what you fucking said because you've been saying it the past six fucking years. We get it. I get it. So just fucking drop it and mind your own goddamn business!" 

She shuts the door in my face, making me kick the door, before taking a breath, and turning to see Steven, Slash, and Duff, trying not to be too uncomfortable. 

"You guys got any booze?" I ask, knowing they do. 

"Yeah, man." Slash nods, motioning me to Duff's room. 

He hands me a bottle of Jack and I start downing it with no hesitation, wrinkling my nose at it's peculiar taste--more peculiar than usual.

"It's half Jack, half Vodka." Slash explains and I wrinkle my nose, my throat on fire as I cough. 

"What the fuck?" I ask, my head swimming, and he shrugs. 

"We got bored and figured we'd try it." 

"Don't let Viv know. She'll pour it out." I mumble, wiping my mouth, sitting on the foot of Duff's bed as he and Steven join us. 

"I know you two have a lot going on but go a little easier on her, man." Slash says to me, next.

"Yeah, you guys are our friends so seeing you fight is weird." Steven adds. 

"Like watching parents try to kill each other in front of their kids." Duff states and I sigh. 

"I know you guys are friends with her but you don't see what she's really like." I insist. "She's fucking nuts." 

"Trust us, we know." Steven scoffs. 

"She's a sweet girl, she's just going through a lot." Duff interjects, grabbing the bottle of jack/vodka from me, taking a sip for himself. 

"She was a sweet girl." I argue calmly. "Breakups just fucking make people unrecognizable. I don't see the chick I proposed to. I see a wicked bitch from hell that possessed her and just uses her body as a disguise." I add. 

None of them say anything, because they can't argue it. 

They see how we treat each other. 

It's a given I'll be an asshole, but when someone like Vivian starts spewing venom, it's because she's lost her fucking mind.

"I think I'm gonna be sick." I grumble, feeling my stomach wrench before I'm stumbling to the bathroom, vomit spewing past my lips into the toilet, my hand grasping the edge of the counter to keep myself from falling forward, the sound of the clink of metal against the floor as I accidentally knock one of Duff's necklaces to the bathroom tile. 

Once I'm done puking, I take deep breaths, closing my eyes for a moment before flushing the toilet. 

I reach for the necklace to put it back on the counter, before I get a good look at it. 

It's a small, sparkling cross a little too dainty for Duff...my stomach drops, my mind going back to the night I first met Vivian, when I first saw it around her neck and sneered everytime I looked at it. 

How she took it off before she and I fooled around for the first time, and everytime after that, until we got married…

My blood runs cold, another wave of nausea hitting me, bile rushing up in my throat before I can stop it, splattering onto the floor.

.

.

.

He knocks the shit out of me in the blink of an eye, and I stumble back, not able to react in time before he's shoving through Fred and Doc, giving another punch to my cheek, but I strike back this time, twice, before he just starts waylaying me relentlessly, Vivian screaming, stupid enough to try to get between us before Izzy's yanking her away. 

I feel my skin split under the pressure of one of Duff's rings, my vision spotty before he's thrown back by Fred and Axl. 

"You mother fucker!" He screams at me viciously as Doc comes to my side. "You stay the fuck away from her, you understand me?!" 

"Duff, it was an accident!" Vivian cries out hoarsely. 

"Look at your fucking neck! How is that a fucking accident?!" He's so pissed he's nearly in tears, too, and I feel my heart pound as I see where the makeup has been smeared off of Vivian's neck, revealing dark bruises in the shape of my fingers. 

"He was high!" Vivian insists.

"He was high when he shot you, he was high when he proposed to another woman, he's high everytime he treats you like shit, he was high when he fucking tried to kill you last night…" Duff rambles off, his face bright red. "...Stop excusing his bullshit with 'he was high', he's not high--that's just who the fuck he is, now!" He shouts, her feelings hurt from the looks of her expression. 

"Come on over here and see who the fuck I am, now!" I can't help but to spit out, even though I'm in no position to win a fight. 

"No, no!" Fred scolds as he and Doc are in front of me while Steven and Axl stay with Duff, trying to calm him down. 

First Axl and Sparkie, now me and Duff, all in one night. 

I bet Fred and Doc regret bringing them on tour, too, because I sure as shit do. 

If I felt like arguing anymore I'd ask Duff how my balls taste since that's where Vivian's mouth spent a good amount of time the past six years...if I wanted them to know that I know about them, I'd say it. 

If I knew it would make a difference, I would. 

But I know it won't, so I keep my mouth shut. 

#gateway drug

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Sixty-Nine

A/N: soooooo, last minute I decided to torture you guys:) I made the chapter into 2 parts, next part will be posted tomorrow night. I'm prepared to be cussed out in the comments 😤 love y'all tho

Also, I'm saving the picture for the next part because *cough cough* so I'm sorry if this appears a little naked.

Words: 2.6k

Warning(s): explicit language, mentions of drug abuse

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S e p t e m b e r 1 9 8 7

“Where are you--”

I’m shut up with the sound of Nikki slamming the door before I can finish asking him where he’s going, and I let out a heavy breath.

"--Going." I finish my question with a heavy sigh.

We’ve only been off the road for a couple days and tomorrow is our last day home, so we decided it’d just be easier for us to stay at the house instead of one of us sleeping elsewhere, but he’s been staying somewhere else every night we’ve been home...I don’t want to know who he’s been staying with or what they’ve been doing, so I haven’t bothered to ask.

I glance at the clock, seeing it’s 5:47pm, and go ahead and assume that since he’s been leaving the house around this time every day and hasn’t been coming back until the next morning, that he’s not coming home again until tomorrow.

Which means I’m by myself, being that Karen is on a small vacation ever since we’ve been home and she hasn’t been having to watch our house.

“Great.” I sarcastically mumble to myself, deciding to start on dinner, Whisky staying under my feet. "If Daddy isn't careful, I'm going to choke him with his own hair." I say to him and he looks up at me with a wagging tail and big smile. "Glad we can agree."

I get one pan out of the cabinet before I’m putting it on the counter, and sighing out.

“You know what? I don’t want to cook.” I state, putting the pan back, shutting the cabinet door, and stepping to the phone, dialing a number.

It rings a couple times before the line is picked up, and I smile at the voice on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Stevie, it’s Viv.” I tell him.

“Hey, babe, what's going on?" He asks me.

"I'm looking for Duff, do you know where he is?" 

"He's in the shower." He replies. "You want me to tell him you're on the line?"

"No, it's okay, just tell him to gimme a call ba--"

"--Duff, it's Viv!" I hear Steven scream and I cringe, pulling the phone away from my ear a little. 

I hear Duff's muffled reply, opening my mouth to tell Steven that I'll call back later, but I'm being cut off again. 

"I said, 'Viv's on the line'!" Steven yells again, hearing Duff respond. "He's coming." Steven assures me.

"Stevie, you could've waited until he was out of the shower." I comment. 

"Trust me, Viv, he would want me to interrupt him if it's for you." He states. "Ok, he's here, I love you, bye."

"Love you, bye." I reply. 

"Hey." Duff takes over.

"Hey, I'm sorry I interrupted your bathing, I tried telling Stevie you could just call me back later." 

"No, no, Viv, you're fine." He assures me. 

"Oh."

"What's up?" He asks and I look around my kitchen.

"Um...I was just wondering if you're free tonight?"

The line is quiet for a second and I raise my brows, rubbing my lips together, waiting for him to say something. 

"...Hello?" 

"Oh, yeah, s-sorry, you wanna do something or something or--I mean, like you wanna hangout? B-Because I'm free, ya know. Yeah." He stutters out awkwardly and I hold back a laugh. 

"Smooth." I hear Steven comment in the background. 

"Dude, shh!" Duff replies in a whisper. "Um, anyway, yeah, I'm not busy."

"Okay, I was gonna order take out if that's okay with you?"

"Whatever you want is fine with me." He offers. 

"Okay." I reply. 

There's a long pause and the both of us finally try to talk at the same time:

"Alright, well--"

"Cool, so--"

We stop for a second, the two of us chuckling a little. 

"Sorry, you go." He tells me. 

"I was gonna say, 'I'll see you in a few minutes'." I say. 

"Good deal, I'll see you then." He agrees. 

"Okay."

"Okay."

Again, another awkward silence. 

"...Okay."

"Okay."

The phone is suddenly hanging up, the dial tone in my ear, and I quirk a brow, before putting the phone back on the hook. 

I wasn't sure why things were so freaking awkward with us, nothing had changed, nothing had happened. I hadn't seen him since the Playboy shoot a month and a half prior, so I didn't understand what exactly shifted.

I hear the doorbell ring and Whisky starts barking while I grab the Chinese takeout boxes and some silverware. 

"Whisky, who is it?" I ask him sweetly as I step to the door, opening it to see all six feet, four inches of Duff. 

He's in a CBGB t-shirt and black jeans, a bag of gummy worms and a six pack of Pepsi in hand. 

"Hi." He says, and I step aside and let him in as Whisky immediately starts sniffing at him, starting at his boot, up his leg, and I politely keep him from getting too personal as soon as his nose goes for his crotch. 

"Ohhhkay, Whisky, that's enough." I tell him, nudging him away from Duff as he hands me the Pepsi and candy, crouching down to pet him. 

"No, it's fine. He's just trying to know me." Duff chuckles, he and Whisky bonding the second his fingers move over the back of Whisky's ears, making him melt like butter in Duff's hands.

After a few minutes of me putting our food on plates and him going to wash his hands, we're finally eating in the living room floor, at the coffee table, with the dog eating his food several feet away, despite coming over to try to eat some of ours every now and then. 

"So, like, apparently Nikki's trying to get you guys a spot on the tour." I inform him and he raises his brows. 

"Really?"

"Yeah. Slash and Stevie have been conspiring and shared it with Nikki...and he loves you guys so he and Tommy and Vince and Mick are down for it. He's been pestering Doc and Doc said he'd contact your manager a little later." I add.

"Well, we've got some shows coming up to promote the album but, I mean, I don't see the harm in going on tour with them." He shrugs. "It'd be good exposure." 

"It would."

"I don't know." He shakes his head a little, swallowing another bite of Lo mein, and I furrow my brows. "I just expected more people to buy 'Appetite'. And they would, if we had our video on MTV, and radio actually played us." He vents. "We're just chomping at the bit, ready to run our asses off the second the race starts, and nobody's firing the fucking starting gun."

The radio was afraid to play them, MTV refused to put their video for "Welcome to the Jungle" on air because John Malone (who owned half of the cable-houses that broadcasted MTV) only saw them as a heroin band, and promoting them wouldn't sit right with his strong Republican, conservative,"christian" morale...so he threatened to drop MTV if they played Guns N' Roses.

"I can talk to Doc and see if he can pull any strings. I mean if they'll play Mötley Crüe--"

"--Tom is vouching for us to anyone that will listen." He explains. "Right now it's not something to worry about, but if it's still like this six months from now, we need to panic a little."

"There's no way in hell it's gonna take six months for you guys to pick up traction." I state in disbelief.

"Viv--"

"--If six months from now you guys still aren't on MTV, I'll harass whoever I need to, to make it happen. I'll go to their houses." I promise and he shakes his head, chuckling. 

I was serious, and I ended up delivering on that.

"None of them are worth the trouble. Just a bunch of money-hungry hypocrites hiding behind religion to validate their assbackwards logic." He shrugs. 

"You sound like my dad." I point out and he smiles, taking another bite of food as I sip from my bottle of Pepsi. 

He stares at me for a moment before I'm raising my brows, silently asking him what's up. 

"So, like, how is your dad so cool and your mom is so…" he trails off and I take a breath, shrugging a little. 

"That's how she was raised. I mean, I know that's not an excuse but her mom and dad were both that way on her and my aunt--my aunt obviously cracked under the pressure and just gave up trying to please them back when she was a teenager. My grandparents have been dead for years now but my mom still acts like she's trying to make them happy." I mumble. "Which, according to my dad, she wasn't always like that. She did a small 'wild' thing one time, and got knocked up with me." 

"What?!" He gawks. 

"They got married seven months early to avoid her parents knowing what they had done." I add.

"Dude, imagine losing your virginity and getting pregnant from it." He tries to hold back a laugh. 

"My mom always told me I was planned, and once I was old enough to do the math between my birthday and their anniversary, I put the pieces together and my dad finally told me what happened when I turned sixteen." 

He nods, and licks his lips, awkwardly clearing his throat before saying:

"So...what about your first time?" 

I scoff, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. 

"Um, seventeen, Nikki, their roach-motel apartment." 

"You've only dated one guy?" 

"Yeah." I nod. 

"Wow…" he says it like it's hard to believe. 

"What's that mean?"

"I just expected you to have dated a couple more guys before settling on Nikki." He replies. 

"I didn't settle for Nikki." I tell him, matter of fact. "Being with him was a good idea at the time." I add. 

"Nah, I get it. That's how it was with my first big-boy girlfriend." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah."

"What happened to her?"

He takes a second, taking in a heavy breath, but trying to keep things light with his smile. 

"We were, like, kids basically. Like sixteen/seventeen, and I had to go out of town to visit some family, and when I got back she told me she had hooked up with this dude at a party while I was away. And we broke up, and then got back together, and then things were good for another year until the big heroin epidemic hit Seattle." He informs me. "It got its hooks in her and wouldn't let go. I finally just had to break things off because I couldn't watch her kill herself in an overdose like some of my friends had already done, and I left for L.A. shortly after. I know that's selfish but ignorance is bliss. I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if I were to ever find out she'd died." There's a small gloss to his eyes, like he's holding back a few tears. 

"That's not selfish." I tell him, shaking my head. "Some people aren't meant to be in our lives forever. Some are just there to grow you in some way and if it's not God's will for them to stay around you he gives you the strength to just walk away." I suggest. 

"Is that what's happening with you and Nikki?" He asks next, looking at me. "He's giving you the strength to walk away?" 

"God's ignoring me currently so I wouldn't know." I admit. "He wants me to stay with Nikki, but Nikki won't even say whether or not he truly wants a divorce. He just avoids the conversation. I think he feels like if he ignores it, the issue will resolve itself."

"Well...what do you think? I mean, has anyone asked how you feel about this? Like having to make people think you guys are together and stuff." 

"It doesn't really matter how I--or even Nikki--feels."

"Okay, Vivian, I didn't ask about Nikki, alright?" He politely tells me and I sigh. 

"I'm miserable." I finally get it out. "We pose for pictures in magazines, still, a-and pile on the PDA anytime press is around and it freaking sucks. Because we're arguing more and more lately so it's like as soon as we get inside we're going back to being mean to each other. And I'm over him, like I've accepted the fact that we're more than likely divorcing, I've gotten all of it out of my system, but the waiting and dragging it out for another year is just getting to me." A couple tears topple over my lashes. 

"If you want out then get out, Viv." He says to me. 

"It's not that simple, Duff."

"Yes, it is. You're just waiting for Nikki to tell you he wants to work things out, and using Doc telling you guys to hold off on any decisions until the tour is over, as an excuse." He states, as noninvasive as possible and I hate to hear the truth. "If you wanna stay, stay, if you want to leave him, leave him. You shouldn't have to explain yourself either way. It's your own business but at least be honest with yourself and call it what it is."

"I will when you do." I argue and he looks at me with raised brows. 

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, please, Duff, you act like this when you're sober but then when you're drunk you're telling me you love me." I state. "You're not being honest with yourself, either."

His brows furrow.

"Viv, what the fuck am I suppose to do? Huh? You're married. You've been married."

"Barely." 

"What do you want me to do about it?" He defensively chuckles out. 

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" 

"Nikki's done a lot for me and the band, and I don't want to disrespect you or him so I've kept to myself, alright? So just leave it at that and let's finish eating because I got rehearsal tomorrow." He tries to change the subject. 

"He had an entire mistress, Duff, telling me how you really felt about me wouldn't have--"

"--You wanna know how I really feel about you? Fine. I don't understand how someone so beautiful and insanely kind could fucking exist, but you do. My hands get all weird and sweaty and gross when you're around. I can barely walk at times because my legs feel like jello anytime I'm talking to you. It pisses me off that you're so talented and a fucking genius but all you see is how you aren't good enough because you aren't the 'type' that guys like Nikki usually desire--but I'm telling you now, people stare at you anywhere we go like you're healing lepers or something and it's definitely not because they think you're ugly. I know what my boundaries are and would never purposely do something that would make you uncomfortable. I'm sorry I said that to you when I was shitfaced. I'd much rather have told you when I was sober, but there's never been a point of me telling you because--"

"--Tell me." I cut him short. "You're sober." I point out, shifting to my knees. "So tell me." 

He licks his lips, his breathing picking up slightly as he looks me dead in the eyes. 

"I love you." He tells me. "I love you, Vivian." He repeats it, more confidently. "I have since the day we met."

I nod a little, my eyes getting teary and I'm kissing him before I can talk myself out of it. 

#nikki sixx #mötley crüe #nikki sixx x oc #nikki sixx fanfiction #gateway drug

[xxisxxisxxis]

Preview: Gateway Drug | Part Sixty-Five

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I keep my head down, my hand gripping at Nikki’s as we all file out of the bus in the parking lot of the hotel as my other hand shields my sunglass-adorned eyes, hearing the shouts of questions from the paparazzi as all of us head to the entrance of the hotel with security trying to keep fans and the media at bay.

Almost as soon as we step foot into the hotel lobby, free from the press and witnesses, Nikki and I are dropping our hands from each other and pulling away as quickly as possible as if we’re magnetically repellent.

“Alright, shower, strip club.” Tommy names off their agenda to Nikki, Vince, and Mick. “Viv, you wanna--”

“--No.” I turn him down before he can even properly invite me, my eyes shifting to Nikki, who averts his gaze from me the second I look at him.

“But, Viv--”

“--Just leave her out of it, Tommy. She doesn’t wanna go.” Nikki tells him flatly, heading to the elevator.

“I can speak for myself, thank you.” I hiss back to him.

“Don’t start shit with me, Vivian. I’m not in the mood.” He snaps.

“What, fight with your girlfriend?” I ask as the elevator doors open.

“Go fuck yourself.” He snarls out, walking into the elevator and I’m right behind him.

“Don’t worry, I have been, being that you won’t ever touch me again.” I argue.

I guess everyone else decides not to ride in an elevator with us in case a fist fight ensues and they get caught in it.

I stare at him, his eyes covered with his sunglasses, his hair matted and sweaty from his show, his skin pale from his body purging the toxic mixture of drugs and alcohol from his system.

“Quit fucking staring at me.” He mumbles, and instead of saying something smart back or just hitting him, I look away, feeling a sadness wash over me as I notice he hasn’t taken his wedding ring off yet since we left the press behind.

“You’re not gonna take it off?” I ask, suddenly, trying to keep my tone neutral.

He doesn’t even have to ask what I’m talking about, he just knows.

I see him glance down at his ring finger before balling his left hand into a slight fist before relaxing it.

“We’re still married.” Is all he says before the doors open and he heads to his room.

I make my own separate room, unlocking the door, being met with the bland smell of a simple hotel room.

I’m used to hotel rooms smelling like Nikki.

Getting my jacket off, I step to the bathroom and get my makeup off and brush my teeth for bed before getting pajamas on. When I get to my bed, I notice something that wasn’t there before I left for the show: one of my tshirts that I left at the last hotel we were at in Texas.

Knowing who grabbed it for me, and why I should not smell it because it’s just going to make me sad, I bring it to my nose and feel my body tense in on itself, my heart heavy as his smell infiltrates my senses, and brings tears to my eyes.

How many times have I nearly talked to him, kissed him, touched him, smiled at him, all out of habit, only to realize why we are where we are in this shit to begin with?

I miss him.

He is with me everyday but I still miss him.

I exhale and climb into bed, clinging to the shirt that smells like him, closing my eyes and pretending I’m with him.

It suddenly occurs to me that the last time I kissed him, hugged him, held him, laughed with him, saw him in the shining light that I did--I didn't realize it was the last time.

Now I’ve got myself crying, and I wipe the stray tears, trying not to think about it anymore but I can’t help it.

I thought I put my absolute everything into every laugh, every kiss, every hug, every smile...but I didn’t. If I knew then what I know now, I would have.

I squeeze my eyes closed, before snatching the covers off, and go to my door, opening it, and marching to Nikki’s door.

A part of my hopes he hasn’t gone to the strip club yet, another part of me--the sane part--hopes he has.

I knock on the door and in a couple minutes it’s swinging open to reveal a hellish looking Nikki.

Trying not to cry, but failing, I lick my lips and finally get it off my chest.

“I didn’t get to say ‘goodbye’ to us.” I state, shakily, and he looks as defeated as I do.

“Vivian--”

“--You robbed me of getting to say ‘goodbye’, of being prepared to say ‘goodbye’. I wasn’t ready to not be with you, I wasn’t ready to have every reason to leave you thrown in my face. I was ready to spend the rest of my life with you, and you stole that from me.” I tell him. “You've been all I've known since I was seventeen and I didn’t get to say ‘goodbye’, Nikki.” I repeat, tears falling past my lashes.

He just looks down, letting me say what I need to.

It takes a couple minutes to quit crying, and take a deep breath.

It takes him no time to respond when I press my lips to his, the both of us letting out relieved hums as our tongues meet and he pulls me into the room with him, slamming the door behind me.

#gateway drug #nikki sixx #mötley crüe #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx x oc

[xxisxxisxxis]

Preview: Gateway Drug | Part Seventy-Four [pt.2]

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"Who's next--Steven? He has a crush on you. Probably be more than happy to have a turn next time." Vince smugly says, pushing past me to get to the elevator. 

"Excuse me?" I ask him in a hiss, wondering if I heard him correctly.

"Slash, too." He continues. "Axl's got his eye on Tansy but I'm sure if he saw some of those pictures Nikki let me see, he'd be willing to try you out. Or maybe Izzy. He's got the angsty thing going the way Nikki did when you first got with him, so…" He adds. "What?" He asks me when he sees me glaring at him. "Comes with the territory of being a groupie slut, right? After all, what else are you going for by keeping your legs spread for guys other than Nikki?" 

"No." I state, shaking my head. "No. You don't get to degrade me over this, Vince. I won't let you. You don't get to look at me like I'm a slut when you sleep with over ten girls a night--while your marriage is under the pretense of being 'healthy', while your wife and mother of your child is at home, blind to what you're really like on the road. And as for Nikki and I, we took vows. Vows that he broke long before I ever did, so I don't get to be the whore that can't keep her legs closed, and you don't get to judge me for how I'm coping with the complete obliteration of my livelihood after the man I planned on being with, until I grew old and died, publicly humiliated me and chose drugs over me. You don't get to do that." I command and he just stares at me and I go to the door, but turn around to add, "and if Nikki gets heartbroken over Duff and I, then I'll take responsibility for that because I tried everything I could to repair my marriage before I threw in the towel, I can accept breaking one or two hearts, I'm not proud of it, but I don't mind answering for a little collateral. But tell me, Vince, how do you accept renewing your vows to a faithful and loyal woman who's stuck with you through shit most women would've ran from, while you've never gone a month without sleeping with other women? How do you accept the fact you have children that you don't bother seeing, and more children that you probably don't even know exist?" I ask him, furrowing my brows. "Although I guess you can argue that's just what rockstars do, but if I recall, you weren't yet a rockstar in high school when you were getting Tami pregnant while you were still in a two year relationship with Tansy." I finish, walking off and leaving him to be pissed. 

The guys are in my room when I get back and I let out a huff of air as Axl stares daggers into me. 

"They're not going to tell anybody." I say before Axl can even speak. 

"Not unless you two don't break it off." Axl snaps and I exhale and start undressing to get into my pajamas. 

"I'm not doing that." I state and a tension fills the room as Izzy blows smoke from his nose, Duff, Steven and Slash quietly exchanging looks as Axl's nostrils flare. "I'm not doing it and you can't make me." I add.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Vivian?! It's fucking over! You tried to pull it off and it didn't work! They know!" He outburst, walking to me heatedly. 

"They know about us hooking up, they don't know that we're not breaking up over them finding out. We'll just keep it under wraps." I argue.

"Viv." Izzy starts as Axl yells, "it's over, Vivian!" 

"You're not my fucking parent, Axl, and you're not Duff's either!" 

"You're being selfish! You don't give a fuck about Duff or this band because if you did you'd be willing to walk away because if they find out you two are still together--and they fucking will--we're done with!" 

"Ax, man." Duff calmly lets out to get him off my back and Axl looks at him. 

"Tell her you guys are over." He demands, motioning to me. 

Duff looks at me, frustration and sadness in his eyes and I rub my lips together. 

"Duff." Axl snaps at him and Duff slowly shakes his head. "Duff." Axl repeats, a little harsher. 

Duff just stares at him, scratching his forehead with his thumb while his middle and pointer finger hold a cigarette. 

"I'm not tellin' her that." He tells Axl with a level voice. 

#gateway drug #nikki sixx #mötley crüe #nikki sixx x oc #nikki sixx fanfiction

[xxisxxisxxis]

Preview: Gateway Drug | Part Seventy-Two

I have no idea when I'm posting the next chapter, sometime this week tho, also I just realized I didn't reply to anybody that commented on the previous chapter and i feel like absolute shit over that so I'm sorry!!

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"It was a water skiing accident at this lake, I was pulled under and the muscle was stripped from here," his fingers grazing from his elbow to his shoulder, "all the way up here. I almost drowned." He informs me, and I look at him, the thought of him drowning at age twelve is hard to think about. "I saw the light and just felt the warmth of people that had passed on that I knew...it was weird, but, like, it wasn't scary. It happened really fast." He adds. 

"Are you scared to die, now?" I ask him out of curiosity and he shakes his head a little, his fingers brushing against my cheek. 

"No. I'm not. After that experience I decided it's gonna be a good place I go when I die." He states and I smile. 

"I can't imagine you going anywhere but some place good, Duff. You're too kind to go anywhere else." I assure him and he chuckles a little, before kissing at my hand. 

"What about you?" He asks and I let out a breath. 

"I'm not scared of death in the sense of where I'm going afterwards, I know where I'm going and it's no place to be scared of...it's just how I'm going to die, when I'm going to die, and the effect it will have on my loved ones. That's what scares me." I explain. "But at the same time I wouldn't want to know how I'm going to die, or when, or what happens to everybody after I go." 

"Well, no, because that would be a bummer looming over you constantly." He points out. 

"Exactly." I agree. "I'll go whenever God's decided my work here is done, but if he can just let me pass peacefully in my sleep, I won't mind." 

"No strokes, no getting shot, no weed brownie…" he trails off starting to laugh and I try not to laugh. "...overdoses." he manages to get out through his laughter.

"It's not funny." I tell him, biting my cheek to keep from chuckling.

"Or crab infestations." He adds. 

"You are so funny. Wow." I cut my eyes at him. 

"Hey, look, I coulda told ya not to eat brownies from Stevie and Slash's room and not to sleep in the same bed as Stevie after a night of him hooking up with several different girls, but I thought that was common sense, Viv." He attempts to speak with a straight face, failing miserably. 

"It took me years to grow hair down there, Duff, and now I look like a thirteen year old all over again, and I had to be fumigated. It's not funny." I finally laugh with him and he rubs his face that's turning red with how funny he finds it that I slept in the same bed as Steven and woke up with pubic lice. 

"Vivian, c'mon, it'll grow back." He tries to make me feel better. "There wasn't that much down there to begin with, so it's not like--"

"--Shh! I didn't say that so we could have an in depth conversation about my situation down there." I tell him, my face turning red. 

"Viv, baby, I've had my face down there, okay? I've been all up in your situation."

"Duff--"

"--You've been all up in my situation, too, it's nothin--" 

"--Ahh!" I squeal a little, covering my ears and burying my face in my pillow. 

"Hey, you came in the other night talking all types of dirty, and then last night when you were tripping on those brownies you had me blushing pretty freaking bad, and now you get all embarrassed when I'm just stating a fact: we've both had our faces all up in each others'--"

"--Okay, okay, I get it, I get it." I'm blushing so badly I feel the heat of my blood in my face. 

"Alright, alright, I'll stop." He tells me. 

"Thank you." I uncover my face and take a breath, snuggling closer against him.

"...I never noticed you have, like, three cute little freckles down there, though, until there was no hair covering them up." He says next.

"Duff, hush!" I put my hands over his mouth and he bursts into laughter again.

"So, what? You have freckles everywhere. It's cute, Viv." He tells me when he gets away from me and catches his breath. 

"Yes, a higher risk of developing melanoma is cute." I reply sarcastically as he sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed, about to get up. "Where are you going?" I ask him as he stands up and stretches. 

"I've got rehearsal in an hour." He tells me. "Remember?"

"Oh...right." I mumble.

"C'mon, Viv, don't sound so enthused." He steps to the bathroom and turns on the shower. 

"C'mere really quick." I tell him, and he sticks his head out of the bathroom. 

"What is it?" He asks me as I go to the foot of the bed.

"Just come here for a second." I repeat and he does, raising his brows. "Do you have to go?" I ask him blinking up at him. 

"Yes, I do, and you do too because if neither of us goes that's gonna get people to thinking." He pokes the tip of my nose. 

"Okay." I roll my eyes. 

He kisses me for a split second before going to take his shower. 

I didn't want to go to the bands' rehearsals, I didn't want Duff to go anywhere, I just wanted the both of us to stay locked in that room together and the rest of the world to go the hell away.

He comes out in light wash, lace-up jeans, his Billy Idol tshirt, and his chain that he has around his neck with the small lock hung on it the way Sid Vicious used to wear. 

He's sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling one black cowboy boot on, looking around for the other one that I stole so he can't leave. 

"Viv, have you seen my other boot?" He asks me while I've got it hid under the covers. 

I stand up on the bed and slip it on my right foot before walking as best I can to him on the mattress before slipping my leg over his shoulder, my foot adorned by his boot resting on the top of his thigh. 

He looks down at it and then up at me, speechless when he sees I'm not completely naked, wearing nothing but his boot and his cream colored cowboy hat. 

I look down at him innocently, knowing exactly what I'm doing and he knows it, but he doesn't call me out on it. 

He just looks at his boot, slowly pulling it off my foot before pressing his lips to my knee before he turns to completely face me, kissing at my inner, lower thigh, and inching higher. 

Right before he can reach his target I'm plopping to my knees on the mattress, his hat nearly falling off of me, making me giggle as my hand flies up to keep it in place for a second, before he's leaning down to kiss me again, his hand grabbing at my bare ass, using that as leverage to pull me completely against him. 

I feel him through his jeans and have to rub my thighs together, eager for him to be in me, before I'm pushing at his chest, causing him to fall back on his back with a little laugh as I crawl over him, the junction of my thighs resting on the tent in his jeans, making him curse under his breath when I lean forward and kiss him, rocking my hips, delicious friction causing a hunger to snake up through my core. 

"I, uh, see the use of the hat now." He gets out through little breaths as I grind against him again, my teeth teasingly pulling at his bottom lip.

"Mhm." I grin, my fingers beginning to untie the string of his pants.

"Before you do that," he starts and I raise my brows, resisting the urge to moan when his finger tips run up and down my spine before giving my thighs a nice squeeze. "I was wondering if you could ride something else first…" he suggests and I'm confused for a millisecond before he slyly runs his tongue along his bottom lip. "...you know, just to get good and broken in, first." He adds and I bite my lip, leaning down and kissing him, again, my tongue dancing with his.

"I will ride anything you want me to." I reply, my lips brushing against his. 

#nikki sixx #mötley crüe #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx x oc #gateway drug

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Fifty-Nine

Words: 4.4K

Warning(s): Explicit language, minor sexual situations, mentions of drug abuse

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Sharise and I watch as Adriana demonstrates basic pole dancing techniques in the empty strip joint.

Sharise, me, Duff, Steven and Steven's lady friend/dancer, Adriana, all came into Adriana's place of work during closed hours, with the permission of her boss, being that this is the club the "Girls Girls, Girls" video is being filmed in and I decided I'd join Sharise in it.

Of course Sharise and I aren't gonna be doing Cirque du Soleil on a pole in the video, it's just an excuse to get out of the house and good off for a few hours.

"Okay, going upside down." She states. "Stand to whatever side of the pole is most comfortable, and whatever side you stand on, place the opposite foot close to the base of the pole." she tells us. "So, I'm standing to the left of the pole, so my right foot is gonna be near the base of the pole, and my right hand is gonna hold the pole at shoulder height, and you'll want to hold the pole close to you so it's a tighter spin."

"Ooo." Steven comments to add interest, sipping his beer.

"Now, your other hand, will hold the pole higher up, like this." Her left hand holds the pole higher up. "Then you kick the leg that's furthest from the pole, up." Her left leg kicks up. "While acting like you're trying to pull the pole downward." She's upside down in half a second. "Then the leg you kicked up wraps around the front of the pole, and the leg you kept closest to the pole, goes behind. And when you slide down," she slowly starts making her way to the floor, "keep your chin tucked so you don't fall and break your neck." She reaches the floor and is smoothly laid onto her back before she stands up.

"Okay, Viv, you try." Steven nudges at me.

"Yeah, Viv." Sharise echos, smiling at me.

"Oh, dear." I mumble, getting up from my chair, Duff, Steven and Sharise clapping as I get up on stage, standing to the left of the pole.

"Okay, so, right foot." I put it at the base of the pole. "Left foot here, right hand here, left hand here..." I say to myself.

"Now, kick." She tells me and I do so.

Obviously I'm not as graceful, looking like an upside down koala clinging to a tree for dear life, my eyes squeezed closed, a sound between a laugh and a shriek coming out of me.

"Be sexy, Viv." Stevie suggests.

I open my eyes, seeing his right side up figure sitting at the table with Duff and Sharise.

"I don't think I can get down." I admit, my legs keeping on the pole but curling closer and closer into me as my fear of falling on my head grows.

Duff and Steven sarcastically cheer, and I feel the sprinkling of cash fall over me before turning my head to glare at them.

"Here." Adriana helps me down, chuckling at them poking fun at me while Sharise thinks it's pretty funny, too.

"Nice job, babe." Stevie states sarcastically and I raise a brow.

"You get up here and do it, then." I reply and he scoffs.

"Oh, I will." He stands up, sashaying to the stage seductively and I hold back my laughter as Adriana raises her brows. "Okay, get down, lemme have my moment to shine." He nudges Adriana and I off stage and we go to sit at the table with Sharise and Duff.

Steven, the natural performer and entertainer he is, starts completely winging it--giving us a hot but very questionable strip tease.

I wrinkle my nose when he gets his shirt off and starts coming down from the stage, walking towards me.

His incredibly hairy chest grows closer and closer and I already know his motivations before he can get to me.

I try to get out of dodge, but Duff is a traitor and holds at my wrist so I can't get away.

I feel Steven's arms wrap around me, his itchy fur against my back and I squeal as Duff, Sharise and Adriana continue to laugh their asses off.

Nikki could barely get the hair on his chest to grow, and when it finally did, he was proud. I had never seen that much hair until I saw Steven with his shirt off.

He had enough hair on his chest and his stomach to make sweaters...when he was naked (which I discovered tended to happen when he got very drunk) I never looked long enough to try to find his prick in the thick of his pubes.

He's just a hairy, hairy, man.

I'm finally calming down and elbowing Steven, gently, getting him off of me in time to look at him, seeing Nikki leaning against the bar in the corner, looking oh so unamused.

"H-Hey." I say to him, really pushing Stevie away.

I don't want him to face Nikki's wrath incase Sikki decides to make an appearance and say something smart about us having fun together without his supervision.

He had gotten upset with me over staying the night with Duff, and I had finally shut him up with:

"You're angry because you know how you treat me, and you know the day I decide I'm done with your bullshit I can walk away from you and have every reason to do so! And I'll be even more inclined to walk away if there's someone that treats me better, and there is! You know there is and you can't stand the thought of it but you don't want to change, either, so I don't know what to tell you other than I'm here with you and I'm not going anywhere. But I'm getting tired, Nikki. Okay? I'm getting tired."

He didn't have a word to say to that. He just stormed out and slammed the door, and found Vanity.

"Hi!" Vanity's soft but perky voice echoes and I notice she's behind the bar, stealing liquor to hand Nikki a bottle of Jack.

Duff and Steven exchange looks before Steven's letting out a "hi!" in his own enthusiastic way.

She's sliding back across the bar to step to us, hugging me tightly to her.

"How are you?" I ask her, Nikki walking over to us.

"Fine, until Nikki started in on me f--"

"So, what're you guys doing tonight?" Nikki interrupts her and she rolls her eyes.

"Baby, I'm talking." She whines.

"Baby?" I ask and I swear I hear Duff nearly choke on his beer.

"Yeah, 'baby'. Ya know...just a cute little pet name I give some of my friends." She explains.

"Well, can you not call him that?" I ask her politely.

Her brows arch and her smile twitches.

"Sure." She finally lets out and everyone seems to let out a breath of relief, probably imagining the two of us getting into a spat over something so stupid.

"Duff, Steven, I was thinking we meet up with T-Bone tonight. Heather's outta town and he wanted to invite you guys and Slash over." He explains.

"Cool." Steven shrugs, but Duff hesitantly looks at me.

Nikki follows his line of sight and cuts his eyes for a moment.

"The fuck you looking at her for? Do you need her permission or something?" He suddenly snaps and Duff looks at him.

"I can't tonight, man. Thanks though." Duff replies coolly, finishing his beer, standing up.

"Girls, I was actually thinking of a girls night." Vanity tells Sharise and I, pulling our attention away from Nikki scowling at Duff as the tall blonde mumbles walks away, mumbling about going to the restroom.

Me and Sharise exchange looks before we're cautiously testing the waters.

"I can't. I'm gonna be with Sky." Sharise puts in.

"Oh, well, us then." Vanity beams at me.

"Actually, now that I think about it, I think you two can come with Steven and Slash and me to Tommy's." Nikki suggests.

Oh, he was saving his ass. He always played it off, but I now know anytime Vanity and I were together without him their to moderate what was being said on her part, he was a nervous wreck, always waiting for Vanity to mess up in a drunken rant or cracked out haze and let it slip she and Nikki were an item.

I still think back on how absolutely stupid I was.

All the signs, red flags, warnings, everything, were right in my face.

The biggest one being...

"When did you get that?" I ask Nikki as we head to his bike to go to the Seventh Veil.

It's a Roman numeral "V", and I keep trying to figure out what significance the number "5" has to him.

"While I was out last night." He replies.

"I leave you, Tommy, Slash and Stevie and Vanity alone and you get a tattoo?" I ask with a chuckle.

I didn't go to Tommy's last night because I was too tired to go party it up with him. We got home last night before Nikki went to his house and I climbed in bed and passed out.

"Yeah. Are you surprised though?" He asks me and I look at him and grin, shaking my head a little bit.

"Nope." I reply.

Once we get to the club, we're met by a plethora of girls, and Vince and Tommy looking like they're in absolute heaven.

I actually take the time to introduce myself to the girls, learning their names and trying to get along with them.

That's pretty easy to do because even though they look intimidating, they're nice.

Would I trust them alone in a room with my husband? No.

Are they sweet girls, though? Yes.

Wayne gives us an hour to get ready, even though they're basically already ready, and change into what we're going to wear in the video.

Ross wants to take promotional shots of the guys with the group of pretty women before it gets dark out.

So, while Sharise and I get ready, the band and the dancers are hitting the street to take pictures.

My favorite of those photos has to be of Nikki surrounded by them all hugged up and close to him and he's just eating up the attention. Of course he had to put on for the camera, but maybe if I would have gone, I would have been able to see exactly how comfortable he was touching on other women.

I finish my makeup as Sharise starts changing into her lingerie and I follow suit, raising a brow at the set she picked bought for me.

"Isn't that cute?" She asks me, nodding to the articles in my hands and I look at her.

"It's uh...revealing."

"As lingerie typically is, Viv." She replies with a small chuckle.

"Yeah, but...?" I hold up the thong for emphasis.

"What about it?"

"My ass is gonna be out. And one wrong move and my pussy is gonna be out there with it." I state.

"No, it won't, you don't have anything to worry about."

I let out a breath, hesitating to put it on and she frowns at me a little bit.

"Vivian, are you alright?"

"Yeah." I state.

"Are you gonna finish getting ready before the guys get back?"

I just nervously glance at her.

"Okay." She says, finishing putting her heels on. "What's up with you, huh?"

"I don't know if I want to do this." I admit.

"Why not?" She asks me and I raise a brow.

"I'm just--I don't know. I'm just not..." I motion my hands around my body and she looks confused before it clicks and she's suddenly looking like she doesn't believe me.

"Tell me it isn't because you don't think you look good?"

I don't answer and she let's out a breath, smiling at me.

"Vivian, you are a gorgeous girl. There's no need to think you aren't. I promise." She assures me and I inhale and exhale before nodding. "Good. Now get changed and c'mon so we can get this over with and the guys can stop badgering us about it, alright?"

"Alright." I smile, taking my clothes off to slip into the brand new lingerie.

I was weirding myself out because I had never had confidence issues, but something about 1987 just made everything plummet.

The only brightside was that I was beginning to be weaned off my antidepressant.

I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but I found out in 1988 that it wasn't necessarily good.

Being surrounded by all those women, very pretty, very fit, very sexy women, just made me feel like a fish out of water.

I guess when you're raised to believe showing the bottom of your thigh is a sin, you can feel like you're in a completely different universe that you don't belong in when you're faced with the responsibility of prancing around in your underwear for men, and the world, to see.

I was always happy when I felt like Nikki was proud to have me as a wife, but he just wanted me in that video to show off what he got to bed down anytime he wanted it.

"Girls, we're starting in five!" Wayne yells on the other side of the dressing room door as Tommy and Nikki step in, grinning at all the half naked, gorgeous women in here.

I straighten my crucifix, before my eyes hone in on the faint scar on my thigh that's just a little visible through the stockings, and doubt sprigs in my mind that other people might be able to see it.

I fucking hate the damn thing and it's quickly becoming the current bane of my existence.

"Girls, c'mon." Tommy playfully puts in, grinning, motioning them to the door.

They giggle softly, smiling at him as they step to the door, Tommy playfully patting all of them on the ass as they walk by, causing me to roll my eyes when it's my turn.

He just smiles down at me, folding his hands behind his back, innocently.

"We'll be there in a second." Nikki tells him.

"K." Tommy replies, tucking a dancer under his arm, shutting the door behind him.

I turn away from Nikki, facing the mirrors, pretending to make any last adjustments to my hair and makeup as he leans against the closed door.

He looks gone as shit, but when doesn't he, anymore?

After what seems like hours, he's stepping towards me, his hand reaching around my front, tugging the tie of my short, silk robe, his fingertips brushing up my stomach as he watches me in the mirror.

He pushes the robe off my shoulder, exposing my bare skin, pulling my curled hair to my other shoulder before pressing hot kisses to the previously revealed one, leaning his weight against my back, pulling my ass against his groin, causing me to let out a sigh and allowing myself a few seconds of bliss before remembering he's been mean the past few days...and said some fucked up shit when I told him where I had stayed that night he ditched me in town.

"Nikki," I start, his tongue and teeth traveling to my neck while his other hand slides down my highcut, dark-green, sequined, thong and finely meshed fishnet stockings. "Nikki, stop." I let out and he huffs out a breath, getting off of me, rolling his eyes.

"The fuck is wrong, now, Viv?"

"Okay, you can't just scream shit to me like you did earlier and then pretend everything is fine without addressing it."

"I can't even remember what the fuck I say to you half the time so I'm sorry if you're ridiculously needy and constantly need to be reassured we're 'okay' after every fucking disagreement. We're okay. Does that make you feel better?"

"No, because it's bullshit. We're not."

I notice him staring at my body, readjusting himself. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Of course."

"Then what did I say?"

"...Okay, I was more focused on your body language..." He says. "...which was telling me you're pissed off over absolutely nothing." He smirks and I cut my eyes at him. "Okay, okay, truce: I'll apologize for whatever you think I did wrong, if you just give me two minutes."

"Two minutes to what?" I furrow my brows.

He grins like the Cheshire Cat.

A minute later I'm gasping for breath, arching my back as Nikki flicks his tongue between my legs, my thong and stockings on the floor as my legs rest over his shoulders.

"Sixx and Sixx and a half, you ready?!" Wayne calls, knocking on the door.

"Almost, man, I'm finishing up on my dinner!" Nikki replies, winking at me.

"What does that have to do with Viv?!"

A loud moan falls from my lips when he suddenly shoves two fingers into me, and my face heats up at the sound of Wayne groaning in disgust and frustration because we're running behind.

"Just hurry the fuck up!" He orders, walking away.

Nikki goes back to what he was doing before we were interrupted, and I'm coming within a few more seconds.

Once I get as cleaned up as I can get, I'm pulling my stockings and panties back on before dropping my robe.

"Woah, woah, woah!" Nikki stops me before I can walk out. "That's what you're wearing out there?"

"Yeah? You saw it a second ago, didn't you?"

"The robe was kinda covering this up." He motions to my matching dark green, sequined bra that goes with my bottoms, my boobs nearly spilling out of it because it's designed to push them up.

"Okay, and?"

He turns me around, a weird look on his face as he looks over me.

"I don't like it." He finally says.

My confidence plummets and I look down at myself and up at him again.

"W-What? What do you mean?" I self-consciously try to cover myself up with my arms.

"It's just...slutty." He shrugs.

"Nikki, you don't mind when I dress up like this at home."

"That's different. That's for me."

I realize I look perfectly fine, he's just pissy I'm gonna be in the video that he begged me for weeks to be in, but I'm actually dressing the part instead of trying to keep it as modest as I can.

My self-consciousness evaporates and I raise a brow.

"It's called being more fun." I say, echoing what he told me the other night. "You wanted me in the video, Nikki, and now I'm in it. If you don't appreciate that, there are plenty of people out there that are going to." I slip my heels back on and he rolls his jaw. "C'mon, before Wayne kills us." I kiss his cheek and slip out the door, hearing a loud crash behind me due to Sikki throwing a few things around in the room out of anger.

He just thought he wanted to show me off, apparently once he realized the consequences of his actions of pressuring me for weeks to do the video, he despised the idea.

And Wayne, being completely all-in, just kept adding fuel to that fire.

"Alright, I need shots of you," Wayne tells Natalie, a blonde with the long hair pulled back into a ponytail, "you," he points to Pam, another blonde, but she has huge, fake boobs, that are barely being contained in her white bikini, "annnnd," he takes a moment, pressing his lips together as he examines the group of us, "Vivian. You're up to bat."

"I'm what?" I ask.

"She's what?" Nikki echoes me.

"Um, I thought I was just gonna be in the background." I add.

"Nikki said he wanted you front and center in some of the frames."

"I did?" Nikki snaps.

"You sure did." Wayne brushes him off, nodding at me. "Viv, c'mon, stage, center pole, now."

Vince is so obnoxiously pleased with this turn of events.

"I can't pole dance." I state to Wayne.

"Thought you used to dance?"

"Ballet. Not stripping." I reply.

"Oh." He furrows his brows before shrugging. "Well, just give a pole spin or something simple that I can catch in a handful of fps."

The look of utter anger on my husband's face from where he, Tommy, Vince and Mick were sitting in front of the stage, when I rested my back against the pole, facing them, and slid down in to a split...he probably wanted to murder me and Wayne at that moment.

I got a sick sense of satisfaction from it.

Before Wayne can yell "cut", Nikki's hand wraps around my ankle, suddenly, and he's snatching me to him.

I try not to scream at the pain of my joints popping in my hip.

His grip is hard, biting into me, and his pinpointed eyes are mocking me, despite his smirk disguising his anger, but the camera is still rolling so I make myself smile and laugh it off as if he's joking incase Wayne decides to keep the footage in.

Nikki's also decently aware of this possibility and instead of screaming at me like I know he wants to do, he kisses me.

He did keep it in, and it honestly looks merely harmless in the video. It just looks like we're goofing off.

He hauls me off stage, throwing me over his shoulder, his hand coming down on my ass one good time, sending a stinging heat throughout me that I actually yelp out "OW" in response to.

Once he sets me down, his hand is gently rubbing over my aching hip and I wince.

"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to do that." He admits in my ear.

I don't acknowledge it, hearing Wayne give orders to Natalie and Pam.

Once they're done with specific shots, he's replaying the "Girls, Girls, Girls" and telling the guys to "just go for it" so he can get the candid shots he wants.

Shots that include Vince offering Sharise money he's holding between his teeth as she gets handsy with him, grinning widely at him, looking absolutely perfect as she always manages to do so effortlessly. Another one includes him scooping her up in his arms, about to carry her out with her laughing.

A shot that I know won't make the censored version of the video is Nikki using his arm to clear off a table with a few business men at it, tossing me onto it with little warning, before biting between my legs, causing me to get red with embarrassment as he gives a second nip to my thigh, my stomach my chest and finally, my smile-adorned lips.

As the night goes on, Wayne captures everything he needs, including moving all of us girls back into the dressing room with Nikki and Tommy "helping" us get ready for the stage while Mick plays his guitar in one of the chairs in front of the vanity with girls touching up their makeup and outfits all around him.

Once Wayne's finished inside, he and the guys head outside to film them riding their motorcycles down the street and catcalling pretty girls. Sharise and I don't necessarily want to see that, so we hang back at the Seventh Veil and get changed.

"I think we all did good." Natalie pipes, grinning.

"Me too." Missy, the shorthaired brunette, adds. "So..." she starts, glancing at me as I pull my jeans on. "...You and Nikki have been together for how long?"

"Umm, married almost four years, we've been together for six, though." I explain and she nods.

"I was just wondering. It's hard to tell with a lot of these rock guys, ya know? I mean, some of them think if they aren't with their wife or their girlfriend, they have permission to mess with other girls." She says. "Some guys are with their wives or girlfriends and still do that, though."

"I'd kill him." I scoff out.

"Oh, me too." Sharise echoes.

"So, like, how do you get them to stay faithful, then?" Natalie asks us smoothly, her shaped brows furrowing slightly.

It seems like such an easy answer, but the more I dwell on it, the harder it is to find words...or an explanation.

"Well, um," I start, letting out a breath. "You do the best you can do. And if that isn't good enough then that's basically saying you aren't good enough, and you don't wanna be with someone who thinks that way about you anyway."

"So if you found out he was cheating or has cheated, you'd leave? Just like that?" Missy asks next.

"I've never thought of it. I don't know what I'd do, really. Except cry."

"No, no, no." Pam states, pointing at me. "You key the bikes and bust all the windows and tires from the cars, you destroy the record collections, you vandalize the house, and you get the fuck outta dodge." She says. "At least that's what I'd do."

"And that's why you've never been married." Missy adds, the two of them chuckling.

"I'd stay." Natalie pipes and we all look at her. "What? I know my worth, but with that much money, your financial security is guaranteed."

"Until the band becomes washed up and can't make a buck off a show anymore, sweetie." Pam replies. "Never settle for someone because you feel financially secure. That's how all these people end up killing themselves. They're so miserable but surrounded by all the money in the world. Money doesn't mean happiness."

"No, but a designer handbag every week does." Natalie suggests.

"Ha ha." Pam sarcastically lets out, rolling her eyes. "What about you, Viv? Love or financial security?"

"I'd gladly go back to living in that shitty apartment he had when the guys were broke as hell, starting out, if it meant getting rid of all the complicated shit and just loving each other." I say truthfully.

No amount of money would have been able to make me cover my eyes and knowingly allow him to do what he had been doing to me.

But you would have thought that was the case considering how much he got away with right under my nose.

I just had so much faith in him, I believed in him more than I believed in God.

That was one mistake of many.

#nikki sixx #mötley crüe #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx x oc #gateway drug

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Seventy-Two

Hey, guys!! This shit is a LONG chapter so buckle up. I decided (y'all are tired of me doing this I know) to explain Viv's tripping on edibles in the next chapter (posting Monday night) so this chapter takes place after she trips balls, but don't worry, you guys will see that hot mess Express in a few days in flashback form.

Also, @sharon6713 makes youtube videos (here's her masterlist [my favorite of her's is this gem right here for obvious reasons]) anyway, she's been supporting me and my story for a loooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnngggggggg time and I need to return the favor so if you guys have any motley crue, the dirt cast, or any other fandom requests for video content, she's the plug.

If you are interested here is her request form

Again, thank you guys, I love you, and please enjoy the chapter!!

Words: 8.1k

Warning(s): Explicit language, mentions of Drug abuse, violence, explicit sexual situations

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I press my lips to Duff's cheek, then his jaw, then his neck, his chest, his abdomen…

He groans, his eyes tightening a moment as he stretches, his hand in my hair as my lips press just below his navel and he looks at me. 

"Good morning." I say to him, giving one last kiss to his skin before he's pulling me up to peck at his lips. 

"Good morning." He replies as I lay beside him, my leg swung over his waist, my cheek against his left bicep. 

"Did you sleep good?" I ask him next and he nods. 

"Did you?"

"Yeah." I reply, kissing his cheek again, and he grins.

"Okay, if you're gonna be all lovey, I'm gonna go brush my teeth." He goes to sit up but I stop him. 

"No." I whine, keeping him to the bed with my leg. 

"Viv, I probably taste like vodka and cigarettes." He complains with a chuckle. 

"I don't care." I insist and he looks at me. "What? It doesn't bother me." 

He shakes his head a little, brushing my hair out of my face before he kisses me again, and I push my tongue past his lips, sighing when he wraps his arm tighter around my waist.

When we pull away, I notice an abnormality in his right bicep, a wedge shaped scar, and furrow my brows a little. 

He notices and looks at his arm.

"It was a water skiing accident at this lake when I was like 13. I was pulled under and the muscle was stripped from here," his fingers grazing from his elbow to his shoulder, "all the way up here. I almost drowned." He informs me, and I look at him, the thought of him drowning at age twelve is hard to think about. "I saw the light and just felt the warmth of people that had passed on that I knew...it was weird, but, like, it wasn't scary. It happened really fast." He adds. 

"Are you scared to die, now?" I ask him out of curiosity and he shakes his head a little, his fingers brushing against my cheek. 

"No. I'm not. After that experience I decided it's gonna be a good place I go when I die." He states and I smile. 

"I can't imagine you going anywhere but some place good, Duff. You're too kind to go anywhere else." I assure him and he chuckles a little, before kissing at my hand. 

"What about you?" He asks and I let out a breath. 

"I'm not scared of death in the sense of where I'm going afterwards, I know where I'm going and it's no place to be scared of...it's just how I'm going to die, when I'm going to die, and the effect it will have on my loved ones. That's what scares me." I explain. "But at the same time I wouldn't want to know how I'm going to die, or when, or what happens to everybody after I go." 

"Well, no, because that would be a bummer looming over you constantly." He points out. 

"Exactly." I agree. "I'll go whenever God's decided my work here is done, but if he can just let me pass peacefully in my sleep, I won't mind." 

"No strokes, no getting shot, no weed brownie…" he trails off starting to laugh and I try not to laugh. "...overdoses." he manages to get out through his laughter.

"It's not funny." I tell him, biting my cheek to keep from chuckling.

"Or crab infestations." He adds. 

"You are so funny. Wow." I cut my eyes at him. 

"Hey, look, I coulda told ya not to eat brownies from Stevie and Slash's room and not to sleep in the same bed as Stevie after a night of him hooking up with several different girls, but I thought that was common sense, Viv." He attempts to speak with a straight face, failing miserably. 

"It took me years to grow hair down there, Duff, and now I look like a thirteen year old all over again, and I had to be fumigated. It's not funny." I finally laugh with him and he rubs his face that's turning red with how funny he finds it that the same night I got stoned shitless off edibles, I slept in the same bed as Steven and woke up with pubic lice. 

"Vivian, c'mon, it'll grow back." He tries to make me feel better. "There wasn't that much down there to begin with, so it's not like--"

"--Shh! I didn't say that so we could have an in depth conversation about my situation down there." I tell him, my face turning red. 

"Viv, baby, I've had my face down there, okay? I've been all up in your situation."

"Duff--"

"--You've been all up in my situation, too, it's nothin--" 

"--Ahh!" I squeal a little, covering my ears and burying my face in my pillow. 

"Hey, you came in the other night talking all types of dirty, and then last night when you were tripping on those brownies you had me blushing pretty freaking bad, and now you get all embarrassed when I'm just stating a fact: we've both had our faces all up in each others'--"

"--Okay, okay, I get it, I get it." I'm blushing so badly I feel the heat of my blood in my face. 

"Alright, alright, I'll stop." He tells me. 

"Thank you." I uncover my face and take a breath, snuggling closer against him.

"...I never noticed you have, like, three cute little freckles down there, though, until there was no hair covering them up." He says next.

"Duff, hush!" I put my hands over his mouth and he bursts into laughter again.

"So, what? You have freckles everywhere. It's cute, Viv." He tells me when he gets away from me and catches his breath. 

"Yes, a higher risk of developing melanoma is cute." I reply sarcastically as he sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed, about to get up. "Where are you going?" I ask him as he stands up and stretches. 

"I've got rehearsal in an hour." He tells me. "Remember?"

"Oh...right." I mumble.

"C'mon, Viv, don't sound so enthused." He steps to the bathroom and turns on the shower. 

"C'mere really quick." I tell him, and he sticks his head out of the bathroom. 

"What is it?" He asks me as I go to the foot of the bed.

"Just come here for a second." I repeat and he does, raising his brows. "Do you have to go?" I ask him blinking up at him. 

"Yes, I do, and you do too because if neither of us goes that's gonna get people to thinking." He pokes the tip of my nose. 

"Okay." I roll my eyes. 

He kisses me for a split second before going to take his shower. 

I didn't want to go to the bands' rehearsals, I didn't want Duff to go anywhere, I just wanted the both of us to stay locked in that room together and the rest of the world to go the hell away.

He comes out in light wash, lace-up jeans, his Billy Idol tshirt, and his chain that he has around his neck with the small lock hung on it the way Sid Vicious used to wear. 

He's sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling one black cowboy boot on, looking around for the other one that I stole so he can't leave. 

"Viv, have you seen my other boot?" He asks me while I've got it hid under the covers, glancing at the nightstand to remind myself my crucifix is still there.

I stand up on the bed and slip it on my right foot before walking as best I can to him on the mattress before slipping my leg over his shoulder, my foot adorned by his boot resting on the top of his thigh. 

He looks down at it and then up at me, speechless when he sees I'm not completely naked, wearing nothing but his boot and his cream colored cowboy hat. 

I look down at him innocently, knowing exactly what I'm doing and he knows it, but he doesn't call me out on it. 

He just looks at his boot, slowly pulling it off my foot before pressing his lips to my knee before he turns to completely face me, kissing at my inner, lower thigh, and inching higher. 

Right before he can reach his target I'm plopping to my knees on the mattress, his hat nearly falling off of me, making me giggle as my hand flies up to keep it in place for a second, before he's leaning down to kiss me again, his hand grabbing at my bare ass, using that as leverage to pull me completely against him. 

I feel him through his jeans and have to rub my thighs together, eager for him to be in me, before I'm pushing at his chest, causing him to fall back on his back with a little laugh as I crawl over him, the junction of my thighs resting on the tent in his jeans, making him curse under his breath when I lean forward and kiss him, rocking my hips, delicious friction causing a hunger to snake up through my core. 

"I, uh, see the use of the hat now." He gets out through little breaths as I grind against him again, my teeth teasingly pulling at his bottom lip.

"Mhm." I grin, my fingers beginning to untie the string of his pants.

"Before you do that," he starts and I raise my brows, resisting the urge to moan when his finger tips run up and down my spine before giving my thighs a nice squeeze. "I was wondering if you could ride something else first…" he suggests and I'm confused for a millisecond before he slyly runs his tongue along his bottom lip. "...you know, just to get good and broken in, first." He adds and I bite my lip, leaning down and kissing him, again, my tongue dancing with his.

"I will ride anything you want me to." I reply, my lips brushing against his. 

Duff was slowly becoming accustom to the fact that I wasn't sweet innocent vanilla Vivian he had suspected I was...although I'm not sure how the hell he thought Nikki survived sex with me all those years if I didn't adapt to or like the same stuff he did, and Nikki was (and still is) into some weird, nasty, debauched shit, so learning to get into what Duff was in to was a lot easier to do than Duff trying to get in to what I was in to.

"Ah!" I giggle out with a moan laced around it, my thighs tensing as Duff's tongue continues to lap against my clit, holding me to his mouth with his hands at my hips as I can't help but grind in rhythm with his tongue, my hands palming at my chest, adding to the heat spreading in my core. "Duff, tha--oh fuck." I gasp out when he softly nips at the sensitive bud, and I can feel his smile at the sound of my pleasure. "That feels so good." I assure him, my head leaned back, my hands bracing on his chest that's beginning to have a thin sheen of sweat over it and I can't help but to lean down, my tongue running across his skin for a moment before I'm reaching for his cock, nearly drooling at the beading precum. 

I run my tongue across the slit of his tip and he jumps in his skin, not expecting it, making me chuckle to myself before he's sliding two fingers into me, my eyes rolling back at the combination of him finger fucking me while eating me out and I bite my tongue to keep from calling him "daddy" because I remember it freaking him out the other night when I was stoned and called him that.

I moan when I wrap my lips around him and slowly bob my head up and down, enjoying the feeling of him tensing up and trying to keep concentrated in pleasuring me. 

My tongue snakes against his length with each thrust, my tongue savoring every bit of his taste because he sure as fuck is savoring every bit of mine. 

He nearly jumps again when my hand gently massages his balls, making him moan into me. 

I take him out of my mouth, keeping my other hand at his base, jacking him off while I catch my breath before I'm spitting on him, taking him back into my mouth, picking up my pace. 

His grip on my hips tightens when I deep throat him, trying to relax to keep from gagging, but I end up doing it anyway, and I hear him curse under his breath. 

I try one more time and manage to get his entire shaft down my throat to the hilt without gagging, and his hand comes down onto my ass cheek, hard, making me cry out around him as he starts hammering his fingers into me, the wet, sloppy sounds of my sex being played with filling the room and I catch my breath when I pull him out of my mouth, moving my hand up and down his cock at the same speed he's moving his fingers into me. 

My pussy tightens around his fingers while his tongue swipes across my clit a few more times before my cum is wetting at his mouth as "Duff" cracks through my lips while I'm gasping for breath. 

He lets out a hum as he drinks it all in, swiping his tongue from my cunt to my clit, making sure none of it goes to waste. 

When he's done, he's pushing at my waist, moving me off of him.

I roll onto my back, coming down from my high, my chest heaving with heavy breaths as he moves to hover above me, his pure, genuine smile nearly melting my heart. 

I grin at him, leaning up and kissing him as he runs his hand down my side and reaches between us to align himself with my entrance. 

We watch each other as he slowly pushes into me, the feeling of him filling me as much as he can causing my toes to curl, and my legs to wrap around his hips. 

"Are...Are you okay?" He asks me, his forehead against mine and I lick my lips and nod. 

"Yeah." I tell him. "Are you?" 

"Yeah." He replies. 

"Are you gonna move or…?" I ask next and he takes a nervous breath. 

"Duff, I'm fine, I promise." I assure him. 

"I know you are but--" I cut him off, pulling his lips to mine, my tongue moving with his as I tighten my legs around him, causing him to move against my cervix, making the both of us let out moans. 

He pulls out of me before pushing back in, slowly, taking a few more thrusts before he picks up his pace, taking my moans and whimpers as cues that he's doing good. 

"Harder." I say in his ear, and he looks at me for a second. "You're not gonna hurt me, baby." 

He nervously licks his lips before pushing into me more frantically, his prick being forced into me to the hilt, which sends a deliciously painful shock through me, causing me to arch underneath him, my nails clawing down his back, making him groan out, only resulting in him going harder into me. 

"It feels so good." I say, whimpering, my fingers in his blonde hair as his tongue and lips are on the skin of my neck.

"You feel so good." He tells me and I bite my lip.

"Can you do something for me?" I ask him, trying to concentrate on my words as he fucks me, the eagerness on his face to please me making me confident that he'll play into my suggestion. 

"Yeah?" He slows down some, purposefully rooting himself balls deep in me, and I have to keep my eyes from fucking crossing. 

I take his hand and put it around my neck, my hand closing over his fingers to manually tighten them around my throat. 

"You're not gonna hurt me." I assure him, seeing his hesitant facial expression. "Even though I wouldn't be mad if you did." I add, moving my hand from his, and he slowly squeezes at my throat little by little, until it's a comfortable pressure, not as extreme as Nikki's, but enough to make me feel like I'm being completely dominated.

"So wet." He says, and I can already feel a puddle forming under me. 

I hum, taking my index and middle fingers and reaching down, gathering some of my slick juices, holding them to his lips and he doesn't slow his movements as he sucks my fingers into his mouth, cleaning them off, before he leans down and kisses me, allowing me to taste myself on his tongue. 

"Duff." I say, my stomach knotting up, his hand around my throat, his pounding into me, his eyes watching every moment of my oncoming orgasm, welcoming the the pressure building up before it's releasing, my walls contracting around him.

"Oh, jesus, Viv." He groans out, and I smile, kissing him, the taste of vodka and cigarettes on his tongue, but I don't care. 

I can feel that he's about to finish, too, and when he's about to pull out, I'm mustering up the energy to flip us over.

"Just come in me." I say, pressing a small kiss to his lips, moving my hips down so he goes to the hilt in me. 

He lets out a moan when I lick up his neck as he unloads into me, a soft hum slipping past my lips at the feeling. 

I take deep breaths and roll off of him when he's finished, pulling the covers up to my chest as he glances at me, trying to catch his breath. 

"We really gotta start using condoms or something, Viv." He tells me, his knuckle brushing against my cheek before he turns on his side to face me. 

"Won't make a difference." I let out before I can think about it, and he furrows his brows. 

"If you get knocked up, it will." He replies.

I don't answer, sitting up and going to the bathroom to shower off. 

He follows right behind me, and when we're done, we're coming back into the room to the sound of the phone ringing off the hook. 

"Hello?" I answer it without a thought, realizing this isn't my room. 

If it would have been anyone other than one of the members of Guns, or Fred, I would have been screwed.

"Hey, um, not to be rude or anything, Viv, but um, where the fuck is Duff at?" Slash asks me and I remember their fucking rehearsal. 

I look at the clock and see we're an hour and a half late for it. 

"Holy shit." I say.

"And Doc's running around trying to find you, too…" he adds as Duff quickly gets his clothes back on. 

"Just stall, okay? We're coming--and don't mention that me and him are with each other right now." I plead.  

"I won't, but Duff's gonna get his ass chewed: Axl's fucking pissed." He informs me.  

"It wasn't Duff's fault, tell Axl he can get on to me all he wants, but leave Duff out of it. We'll be there in a few minutes. Bye." 

"Bye." 

We hang up and I rush to put clothes on, Duff and I not saying a word to each other as we finish getting ready--but I can tell he's pissed. At me or himself is to be determined. 

One of the most admirable traits Duff possesses is the fact that music is so important to him, he made it a standard that he'd never allow anything to interfere with his effort put forth towards his responsibility in bands he's a part of. 

He was never late to a rehearsal unless there was a good reason, and if he was going to be late he called ahead, he was never too drunk or high to play at a show...he never put anything else he had going on before his band. 

Guns N' Roses, even back when he was drinking and drugging heavily, was no exception. He might not have remembered a bit of the shows played at the peak of his addiction, but he played them well enough that nobody could hear him and say, 'he's really out of it'. The closest he ever got to playing messy on stage was during the Freddie Mercury tribute concert at Wembley, when he was so messed up that when artists gathered to sing "We Are the Champions", he couldn't walk, so Elton John had to practically drag him up on stage to the 50 person chorus line and he took full advantage of the shoulders on either side of him to keep himself upright while Liza Minnelli sung lead.

That was possibly the straw that broke the camel's back in terms of deciding maybe Monroe didn't need to witness his father spiraling as much as he had been. 

He had plenty of his own issues that were at risk of getting before the band, but women getting in the way of his duty to his band? Never happened. 

Except on the tour with Mötley Crüe, and that was what caused Axl and the guys to realize we weren't just hooking up if Duff was willing to let me get in the way of his commitment to the band.

"Where the fuck have you been?" Axl snaps at Duff as he steps to the stage and I take a seat in one of the audience chairs, Sparkie glancing between Duff and I from where he's at standing up, his eyes cut slightly, while Tansy's asleep in the chair closest to him. 

"Axl, I know, man, okay?" Duff replies, knowing he's fucked up. 

"We're talking about this later, don't fucking think this is over." He warns him before glaring at me. 

Fred makes a beeline for me, his brows raised. 

"What the hell, Viv?" He asks me under his breath. 

"Are the gu--" he cuts me short. 

"--Nikki's so fucked he doesn't even realize we're running behind and Tommy and Vince are screwing around with some chicks they picked up on the way over here, Mick's drinking…" he trails off, disappointment all over his features. 

"I know, Fred, I know I messed up." 

"You can't possibly be serious about carrying on with him on this tour without telling anybody." He refers to Duff and I let out a breath. 

"I can't tell Nikki or he'll be pissed and might kick the guys off the tour." I say. 

"So you're just gonna screw someone else without thinking to tell him?" 

"He did it to me." I point out. 

"If he finds out from anyone else--"

"--Which he won't." 

"But if he does, Vivian, I don't want him to take that out on you." He explains. 

"He won't find out, okay?" I promise him. "We'll be more careful, Fred." 

He lets out a breath and relents. 

"Fine, Viv. Fine." 

The moment Guns finishes up and let's Mötley Crüe take over, I see what Fred means about Nikki.

His eyes are completely void, his shell being taken over by heroin, only able to play through muscle memory.

He's so fucked up. 

Apparently I'm not being subtle, and he catches me looking at him, completely stopping his playing altogether in the middle of "All In The Name Of…" 

"The fuck are you staring at?" he snaps at me. 

"Nothing." I mumble, standing up to walk backstage. 

I don't have the energy to argue with him and if he spends what's left of his energy arguing with me, he'll pass out. 

When I get backstage, I hear Axl's muffled voice in what's set to be their dressing room...and I realize he and Duff and the guys are in there.

I press my ear to the door out of curiosity, but I end up regretting it as I hear Axl bark out:

"She's a fucking problem!" 

"I know I held everybody up but it's not her fault, it's on me." Duff explains.

"If anybody was paying enough attention to realize you two had to have been off together, they can tell somebody and we're fucked, Duff, do you fucking realize that? And if they kick us off this tour and talk shit to the press it's gonna take us longer to get to our goal and you're gonna be responsible for letting a piece of ass get in the band's way." Axl states. 

"I know." Duff replies, not arguing. He sounds too embarrassed and disappointed to argue. 

"And if this happens again, I'll tell Doc so he'll keep a tighter leash on her so she won't get herself or you into anymore fucking trouble on this tour." It's his final promise, and I hear him stepping to the door, making me scramble to hide behind the corner of the wall as he snatches the door open and stomps off in the other direction. 

Duff being late for that rehearsal kickstarted Axl's personal vendetta against me that started small but grew when Steven was kicked out the band and I raised hell over it. Then got bigger when Tansy relapsed in 1990 due to the stress of Guns N' Roses beginning to implode and Axl's ego getting bigger than God--especially to her in particular--and I told him it was his fault. Then even more when he found out I was the one that suggested suing the band to Steven's mother and came to our house in the middle of the night with a fucking shot gun which didn't scare me because I'd been shot before and was perfectly fine so if that cocky bastard wanted to shoot me again, in front of my fucking kids and be an asshole, then so be it, but it really pissed Nikki off. Then our feud finally came to a head in 1993, when Slash and Duff were Shanghaied into signing a contract relieving the name "Guns N' Roses" to Axl, and solely to Axl, if something were to happen to either of them--quitting, fired, or "death" (although the contract said nothing about death, their manager just used it as a cover up when confronted by Duff over it.) 

Their share of the band remained the same, meaning what Duff was leaving to me and Monroe upon his death in terms of equities and royalties wouldn't be touched, but I was beginning to realize it wouldn't have been much longer before Axl tried to take that, too, just like he had fucking done to Steven. So when Duff explained what had been done, I got on a plane and flew to their next show just to kick Axl's ass once again because Duff and Slash weren't confrontational enough to do it, they just tried to keep the peace as much as they could, but Axl wasn't my fucking lead singer and my kids were too young to know what exactly was going on.

I had nothing to lose. 

He sued--when I kicked him so hard the heel of my stiletto went right through his calf--and ended up with $100,000. 

$100,000 didn't sting me or Nikki as hard as a couple million must've stung him when Steven won his lawsuit against the band, and the prick deserved it. 

They all did in that situation. 

After being sued, though, Nikki wouldn't let me be around him anymore.

If Tansy wanted to hang out, I couldn't go to their house, and I couldn't take Monroe out to see his dad unless they were off the road or there was a guarantee I would be kept separated from Axl at all times.

I guess I really ended up being a "problem" to Axl, after all.

Duff goes out that night, leaving some money for me to get room service but not saying a word to me before he leaves, resulting in me going to my room incase someone tries to come find me and isn't suspicious as to why I'm in Duff's room. 

I'm getting out of my shower after washing my hair when a knock on my door sounds, making me believe it's the room service I ordered…

I put on my robe and open the door, revealing Sparkie. 

My face falls and I'm about to slam the door shut, but he stops it, stepping inside, shutting the door behind him. 

"What the hell do you want?" I ask, crossing my arms and he shrugs. 

"Just to talk." He tells me, smirking. "Ya know, catch up on each other, I feel like we aren't as close as we need to be." He adds and I raise a brow. 

"Because I don't want to be close to you." I state. 

"Well, you're pretty close to Duff with no issue." He voices and my heart nearly stops. "I figured you'd be keeping his bed warm while he's out."

"I don't know what you're talking about." I tell him.

"You two are practically joined at the hip, you were both late for rehearsal, you share a room...just because none of the other guys notice it, doesn't mean I don't." He adds and I roll my jaw. "I already caught you, now we just need to talk about what you're going to do for me, to help remind me not to let it slip to Nikki…" he takes a step closer to me and I back away until my back is against the wall, and he takes advantage of it, his hand going over my mouth before I can yell, causing a line of shock to roll up my spine as he stares down at me, evilly. "I know one thing you can do." He goes on, his free hand teasing at the belt of my robe, before pulling it out of its tie, opening it. 

Tears of anger swell in my eyes as I try to shake off the initial shock so I can fight back. 

"Why don't you show me exactly what was so good about you, that it made Nikki want to marry you, and is making Duff put his own band aside for you?" 

He opens the robe a little more, eyeing my chest, and before he can touch me, a knock on the door and "room service" sounds on the other side of the door.

I use it as an opportunity to get away from him as he lets out an angry sigh for being interrupted before I open the door. 

My food is delivered and I thank the woman who brought it up, grabbing some cash that Duff had left for me for food, from my dresser, and tipping her.

"Thank you." She tells me and I make a point to motion for Sparkie to leave, in front of her, that way if he refused there was a witness.

He doesn't take any chances, giving me a sarcastic smile, stepping to the door, stopping in front of me and getting in my ear and threatening me.

I tried to sleep that night but the eminent risk of Nikki finding out about Duff and I was starting to eat at me. 

With Nikki as bad off as he was, I was scared he wouldn't have been able to handle it, and our relationship was already in shambles, I didn't need him to have more reasons to scream my head off.

Part Seventy-Two -- Part 2

#nikki sixx #mötley crüe #nikki sixx x oc #nikki sixx fanfiction #gateway drug

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Fifty-Three

Words: 4.5K

Warning(s): explicit language, sexual situations, mentions of drug abuse

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I wake up to the smell of coffee drifting in under the bedroom door, and I stretch, seeing Nikki on his side of the bed, snoring softly.

Pulling the covers off of myself, I get up and throw on my robe to cover my naked body and step into the kitchen to see Karen at the counter.

Karen was Doc's best solution he could muster up to try to keep Nikki straight off drugs.

After calling Doc and Bob Timmons that night Nikki shot out our ceiling, Doc asked Karen, who worked at the Mötley office, to move in.

Hats off to her because she didn't argue, and Nikki did calm down a little when she was there because he was convinced she was a spy for Doc and was telling him what Nikki was doing at all times.

Nikki didnt want to hear shit from Doc, so he tried to hide his drug use from Karen when she was home.

"Good morning." She greets me, patiently waiting for the coffee to get done. "Sorry if I woke you up."

"No, no, it's fine, I needed to get up anyway, uh...what time is it?" I ask her, rubbing my eyes.

"About 9:00." She replies.

"Okay, I'm gonna wake him up and get ready and that reporter should be here around--"

I'm cut off by the doorbell and I look at her.

"You go wake him up, get him showered, I'll stall." She assures me, shooing me with her hand as she steps to open the door."

I rush to our bedroom and shut and lock the door, walking over to wake Nikki up.

"Babe, c'mon."  I nudge at him several times until he's groaning a little. "Nikki, wake up."

"Just climb on and get off when you're finished. I'm sure it'll still get up without me being awake." He mumbles tiredly, about to drift back off before I'm hitting his arm sternly.

"Nikki, you need to wake up. That reporter came early. We need to get dressed."

"Jesus." He lets out, frustrated, and I rub my lips together. His hazel eyes open to look at me and he smirks. "You're actually talking to me today?"

I've been ignoring him for nearly a week now ever since he broke our ceiling and embarrassed me in front of our friends.

"I'm getting into character so he doesn't write that I'm not talking to you in the article. Doc said to be as lovey as possible." I add. "So hurry up."

I walk to our bathroom and start the shower, quickly discarding my clothes and climbing in as he trudges into the bathroom.

By the time I'm rinsing shampoo from my hair, he's getting in, his eyes wandering up and down my naked body that currently has soapy water running down it.

"Don't get any ideas, Sixx, I'm still mad at you."

"What kind of man do you think I am?" He puts a hand over his heart as if he's hurt and I roll my eyes, finishing rinsing my hair.

"Move." I say so I can put conditioner in my hair and he grins, about to switch places with me, and his hands hold at my body as we trade spots and I glare at him.

"What? I was helping you move." He innocently states, the slightest hint of a smirk on his lips, and I cut my eyes at him.

He just wets his hair as I get the tangles out of mine with conditioner and we change once more.

By the time he's rinsing his hair again and I'm lathering up in body wash, I feel his finger trace down my spine.

"Nikki." I say in warning and I hear his faint chuckling.

"Sorry." He mumbles, taking his fingers off of me.

When I'm done, about to tell him I need to get under the water, his hands are sliding up my sides and he's getting closer to me, pulling me against him, taking my ear between his teeth in a nip.

"Nikki, we don't have time for this." I let out in a soft giggle.

"So?" He asks, pressing a kiss to my neck, his hands moving up to hold at my chest, rolling his thumbs over my nipples, causing me to take a sharp breath and push my ass against him.

He lets out a soft moan, and I turn to face him, our lips, teeth and tongues meeting in a rough, passionate, kiss, as my body is pulled against his.

"Are you still mad at me?" He says, running his thumb across my bottom lip, looking like he's confident that I'm not still upset with him.

"Get finished, we have stuff to do." I tell him, giving him one last kiss before sliding past him to rinse off.

"Change it to cold water before you leave." He grumbles and I smile to myself, changing the temperature of the water before getting out of the shower.

Once I get my hair towel dried and finish getting ready, I'm cautiously stepping into the hallway, walking where I hear Karen and the reporter talking at the dinner table. 

"Yeah, they..." Karen trails off, seeing me. "...Oh, here she is." She states.

He turns around to face me and I rub my lips together, extending my hand to him.

"Len Donoghue." He tells me, shaking my hand.

"Vivian Sixx." I reply, politely. "Um, Nikki's getting some clothes on now, he'll be here in a minute."

"Oh, starting Valentine's Day off right, huh?" He chuckles and I feel my face go red with embarrassment as Karen attempts to curve the conversation.

"You were saying earlier you attend night classes? What degree are you pursuing?" She asks him and I take the opportunity to step to the kitchen and grab a cup of coffee.

Nikki's already there, seeming to be stalling as he takes his time examining the array of coffee cups in our cupboard.

"You don't drink coffee, baby." I remind him and he glances at me before handing me a cup.

"I was supposed to wake up this morning to a blow job. Not a fucking hotshot know-it-all scribe jotting down every last syllable of shit I say only to fabricate and cut it up before printing it in a way that makes me look bad." He mumbles and I give him a soft smile, my fingers running through the ends of his hair.

"It will be okay, Nikki. Just smile and it'll be over before you know it." I encourage him.

He sighs out, kissing me briefly before I pour my coffee and we step to the dinner table, where Len is lighting up at the site of Nikki.

"Hey, man, Nikki." Nikki introduces himself, shaking Len's hand.

"Len Donoghue, it's a pleasure." He smiles enthusiastically at him and Nikki nods before motioning to the kitchen.

"I'm gonna cook some breakfast if you wanna start your interrogation in the kitchen." Nikki says in a joking tone, but in know he means "interrogation" literally.

"Sure." Len nods, the three of us stepping to the kitchen as Karen gets up and heads to her bedroom to hangout until we're done.

I hoist myself onto the counter, watching as Nikki pulls the eggs from the fridge and I tense up as I multiple paper bags on the shelves before he closes the fridge.

I hope Len didn't notice.

"You've even got that particular detailing in here." Len comments, looking up at the mirrored ceiling.

"Yeah, I read somewhere mirror creates the illusion of a more open room." Nikki tells him, grabbing a bowl to crack the eggs into.

"That's why the place is covered in mirror?"

"Yeah, why else would it be?" He pretends to play dumb, and Len glances at me before shaking his head a little. "No reason."

"When did you move into this place?" He asks us and Nikki starts cracking the eggs.

"Uhh...like..." He looks at me. "...Over a year ago? Year and a half?"

I just nod and he confirms it.

"Yeah, over a year ago."

"Who's idea was it to live out here?" He asks next and Nikki nods towards me.

"She liked the house and I got it once we had the money." He explains.

"That makes me sound like a gold digger." I say.

"Okay, we drove by one day and she said it was a nice house and I went behind her back and got it and surprised her with it once I had the money." He corrects and Len smiles.

"Is he always nice like that?" He asks me.

"Despite how he seems publicly, he's a nice guy." I tell him and Nikki shushes me as if I can't tell his secret, making me chuckle as he grins, pouring the eggs into the heated pan.

"There's a lot of mystery around you two, is that something that's good to you or backfires sometimes?"

"It's good." Nikki states. "It's really nobody's business unless we do stuff like this," he motions to Len, "And let people in on it."

"We don't necessarily understand what the big deal is about, honestly. There's plenty of people dating or married to someone who isn't quite like them. The fact we're in the public eye doesn't make it any more interesting, honestly." I add.

"Yeah, people would be disappointed if they saw how our relationship works just like everyone else's." Nikki puts in next.

"I think you two being together really invokes certain conversations because one of you is a by the book Christian, and the other has been accused of Satanism in the past." Len suggests with a small chuckle. "So you're pretty opposite of each other in that sense but you still manage to get along well enough to feel the need to marry one another."

"We're opposite of each other in every sense, almost." Nikki tells him, finishing on the eggs.

"Really?"

"She's more reserved, conservative, quiet, innocent, sober, religious, organized..." Nikki names off a few things. "...and there's me."

"I wanna touch on that, really, because 'sober' is not something associated with rockstars or really this industry much at all, really, with so much money and access to excess and so on, have you really never had a drink of alcohol or was that an exaggeration? I mean, really, your friends, husband, piers are doing God knows what and you've never at least been curious enough to try something out?" He asks me and I shake my head.

"No. And that's not something I ride through the streets and shout out or project at a party or use to talk down on other people with. I choose not to do that because it doesn't interest me, it interests some people, some people enjoy it, but I've never really been drawn to any of it. And especially the really hard stuff, I've never felt the need or allure to that because I've seen what it does to people. But I don't turn my nose up at people who want a beer after work or have some cocktails with their girl friends on a night out. I don't even think I'm any better than the addicts that claw their eyes out while they're on dope. That's their business." I tell him, and Nikki clears his throat, putting the eggs into a bowl to be scooped out by who ever that wants them as he pulls the package of bacon from the fridge next.

"So you're the trusted D.D. when it's a night out?" Len asks me and I nod.

"Oh, yeah." I nod.

"Back to the 'opposites' topic, how did someone like you, get together with someone like her?" He questions Nikki again and Nikki let's out a breath, smirking.

"The clean version." I warn Nikki and he laughs.

"Oh, c'mon, Viv." He nudges me and I raise my brows. "Okay, fine, we met at a club on the strip, Tommy introduced us, and he had told me she was coming down there to see us and that she was a dancer and her mom was super strict, and just telling me and Mick some things about her because he and Vince had grown up with her, but we'd never met her. So she comes down there, and she's dressed like a fucking--I don't even know, nothing like what I was use to seeing on the Strip. And we just couldn't stand each other, honestly. We would aggravate the piss outta each other, I'd harrass her and purposely do and say stuff that I knew would gross her out and she would pick at me and deliberately say shit to get under my skin and piss me off. I called her 'Saint Viv' and 'Virgin Viv' and she'd call me 'Devil Spawn' and we just really got on each other's nerves, man."

"What changed that?" He asks and I wait to see how Nikki's going to say "I screwed her into my ratty mattress" in a PG way.

"There was this one night, I don't even know what happened, but I just realized I was really, really into her, and I guess she realized the same because we've been together ever since." He tells him.

"So, it's worth all the criticism about you not being the real deal because you've 'settled down'?"

"I'm not an idiot, I know people dont talk shit because I've 'settled down', they talk shit about who I've 'settled down' with. And if being with someone who's got my back, and strives to push me be the best in can be, and supports me and helps me up when I need it, then I will loud and proud shout from the hills that I've 'settled down.' I write music based off what inspires me, some of Mötley's best songs have been inspired by the very girl I'm criticized for being with because they either think she's boring or isn't bad enough for me or whatever bullshit they drum up. But I don't need someone who's bad through and through, that would be a disaster. She's bad wear it counts." He informs him and I squeeze my eyes shut.

"Nikki!" I scold.

"I'm just saying." He shrugs. "And I'd hate being with someone who's exactly like me because then I wouldn't be learning new things, or having engaging conversation that challenges my views, or see a different perspective, and she wouldn't have that, either. So I think all the street rock posers downing on me for being with a 'goody goody' and the holier-than-thou Tipper Gore carbon copies that give Viv shit for being with a 'satan worshiper' can all kiss our asses and fuck off."

Len nods, looking impressed but not shocked with Nikki's words.

"Wanna add anything to that?" He asks me.

"Ditto." I reply and Nikki smiles at me for a moment.

After Nikki's finished cooking, we're sitting at the table, and get on the topic of music.

"Is there any idea when the new music will be coming out?" He asks Nikki and Nikki nods, taking a sip of his orange juice.

"Sometime this year." He says.

"Is it gonna have a 'Theater of Pain' feel to it or is it gonna hold the same change that, that album did compared to 'Shout at the Devil'?"

"Well, we change our sound because we grow. I don't think it's too far off, I think it's all still rock 'n roll, but the sound differs a little bit with each album because we evolve." He replies.

"Any album in particular that you've made so far that's a favorite or is the best yet to come?"

Nikki gets a happy, proud grin on his face.

"The best is yet to come." He states. "Some really cool stuff is in the works."

"I'm glad to hear that because I actually am a fan of you guys' so that's a good word from you." He tells him.

"Great." Nikki says, his bare foot kicking at mine under the table.

I kick back as Len is oblivious and continues asking questions.

"Are you into their music, too, or are you just along for the ride because you kind of have to be?" He nods to me as Nikki and I are now in a kicking war, despite acting like nothing's happening.

"Yeah, I like their music."

He looks a little taken back by my answer.

"You listen to Mötley Crüe without obligation?"

"Well, yeah." I tell him.

"She looks like a frilly flower girl so you don't expect that, right?" Nikki asks, and I kick him under the table and he kicks me back, again.

"What else do you listen to?" Len asks me.

"A little bit of everything. If it's catchy or has a good groove to it, it doesn't matter the artist, I'll buy it. I listen to ABBA, Chaka Khan, Hank William's Jr, Deep Purple, BeeGees..."

"And everything in between?"

"And everything in between." I chuckle. "I also have Bon Jovi but Nikki's always trying to steal it and get rid of it."

"You don't like Bon Jovi?" Len asks, seemingly insulted and Nikki looks at me with cut eyes and a devious smirk, like he's gonna get even with me, later.

"I like Jon, I've hung out with him several times, he's a cool guy. Vocally, he nails it every time. Lyrically, musically, I can't fucking stand it. It's like being stuck on the tea cups at Disney. You wanna get off before you throw up."

"So, you don't mind ABBA, but Bon Jovi's a no-go?"

"...Basically..." He rubs his eye. "But, I mean, I might tolerate some of it if she put it on and started doing a little strip tease or something. I'd consider it, then."

I glare at him and Len laughs, as Nikki smiles innocently at me.

Once we're done eating, we offer a tour of the house, which Len eagerly accepts.

"Obviously, living room." Nikki motions.

"What happened to the ceiling?" He asks, noticing the empty ceiling space.

"Nikki thought it would be smart to throw a baseball in the house. The whole ceiling suffered." I lie and Len raises his brows.

"I bet that was fun to clean up."

"We wouldn't know, we paid someone to come out here and do it for us." Nikki mumbles. "Alright, awards and achievements." He says next, motioning to his freshly reframed gold and platinum disc awards, and my ballet trophies I've racked up from childhood to the beginning of senior year, that Nikki practically made me put on display when we moved in because he thinks it's something I should be proud of enough to showcase to people.

"Guest bedrooms, and bathroom down here." Nikki motions down the hall. "Garage, here." We walk down a couple of steps to the garage door and open it up, switching on the light.

His bike, his Corvette and mine, greet us and Len nods.

"Nothing too extravagant." He voices to us.

"I'm looking at a blacked out Mercedes right now, I might end up getting it soon." Nikki tells him.

"Oh, really?" I ask, crossing my arms.

"I was gonna tell you about it later, babe." He assures me.

"Right, like you told me about the Jeep and the Harley?"

"Ha. Ha." He let's out sarcastically. "We have a pool." He quickly discards our disagreement, leading Len back up the steps and into the house to take him to the pool.

By the time the interview is at a closing, it's almost 1:00pm, and I hope he has enough material to make a decent article.

"Thanks for letting me come by, I really do appreciate it." Len thanks us, shaking my hand before shaking Nikki's hand one last time. "It was really an honor get to talk to you, man, good luck with the album. Can't wait to hear it."

"Thanks." Nikki replies.

"Alright, you two take care, have a good evening." He tells us, turning to walk to his car.

"You, too." Nikki says before shutting the door.

When it's shut, he's turning to look down at me.

"What is it?" I ask him.

"I'm probably gonna go get some stuff from town." He states and I nod.

"Okay, I'm probably about to hangout by the pool with Karen for a few minutes." I tell him, heading to our bedroom to put my swimsuit on.

I hear the fridge open and shut--he's grabbing some of his heroin--before he's telling me he'll be back in a few minutes.

Once the garage door shuts, I'm stepping out to find Karen in her bedroom.

"Hey," I start and she looks up from where she's laying on her bed, reading. "I was gonna go lay out for a few minutes, do you wanna come?"

"Yeah, I'll be out there in a second. Let me get changed."

The phone starts ringing and I head to answer it, hoping it's not someone calling to tell me Nikki's been in an accident.

"Hello?" I answer.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Steven's voice happily declares on the other end of the line.

"Happy Valentine's Day." I reply, stepping to the kitchen to grab a Pepsi from the fridge.

"I-Is Sixx around?"

"Not right now, he's running errands in town." I explain to him.

"Oh...well when he gets back can you get him to call me back?"

"Yeah. Is everything alright?"

"It's perfect. Love you. Gotta go." He abruptly hangs up and I furrow my brows a little, hanging the phone back up.

A few minutes into sunbathing, I'm laying on my stomach with my bikini string untied as Karen chats away while I drift in and out of sleep.

"I'm gonna go use the bathroom." Karen tells me, getting up off her pool chair, heading into the house.

I give her a wave of my hand without opening my eyes, letting out a relaxed breath.

My body tenses for a moment at the feeling of Nikki's lips pressing the center of my spine, working their way up to my hair.

"Hi." I say, sitting up, tying my top back into place as he sits on my chair beside me. "Steven called and wanted you to call him back."

"He called again just when I got in so I already talked to him." He tells me and I nod. "I was out getting stuff for tonight." He wiggles his brows for a second and I try not to laugh.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Some more wine for me, the fizzy grape juice for you, and some more candles."

"You don't like just screwing around with a candle on because you can't see everything." I point out and he smirks.

"I didn't buy them for light." He says and I raise my brows, a lusty feeling washing through me at the thought.

"Race you to the bedroom!" I shout, about to take off but he grabs at my hips and pulls me down to his lap, laughing at my eagerness. "Nikki, we don't have time to waste. I have carbonated grape juice to sip on and hot candle wax to be dripped in, and that's not even including the sleazy stuff that follows, so c'mon." I struggle to pull his arms from around my waist so I can get free.

"Viv, we'll get to that later tonight, you gotta get ready for your surprise." He tells me.

"I have a surprise?"

"Yeah."

"What is it?"

"A surprise."

"Nikki."

"Viv."

"...Fine." I huff and he let's me out of his lap, handing me the roses he got me. "Where is this surprise?"

"Can't tell you. Just get changed, dress up a little bit if you want to." He tells me.

I guess he thought since he had died the year before, he should put his all into making up for it the following year.

I have to give it to him, he outdid himself that Valentine's Day...but he had some help.

"Okay, no peeking." Nikki says to me after securing the blindfold around my eyes and I grin, my hand in his as he helps me out of his Corvette.

I'm taken off guard by him suddenly picking me up, shutting the passenger side door with his foot.

"What are you doing?" I chuckle out.

"I don't want you to walk and hear your steps because it'll spoil the surprise."

"I feel you struggling to keep me up." I say to him, poking fun.

"I'm not struggling."

"Okay but if you drop me, I'm kicking your ass." I add.

"I'll kick your ass right back." He scoffs.

"Okay, then put me down and let's go, Sixx. Best two out of three."

"You're like a baby bird: all mouth." He taunts me.

"You're a baby bird: all whining."

"Virgin Vivian."

"Devil Spawn."

"Are you ready to see your surprise or are you gonna keep running your mouth?" He asks and I roll my eyes behind the blindfold and exhale.

"Fine."

He sets me down, and my heels click against the sound of wood.

"Alright, ready?"

"Yes."

The blindfold comes off, and Steven's firing off one of those tiny confetti poppers as he, Nikki and Duff all saying, "Tada!" at the same time.

We're standing inside of Mandy's old rehearsal space, except it's not shitty looking anymore.

The holes in the ceiling are patched up, it's got new lights, the floors are fresh and the once scratched up and worn down mirror is replaced, completely brand new.

I can't even form words, my eyes watering, my hand grasping Nikki's tightly.

"What do ya think?" Duff asks me.

"I-I..." I try to talk, but can't.

"Do you like it?" Nikki asks next and I'm turning to face him, wrapping my arms around his waist, hugging him tightly, nearly knocking him off balance. "Woah." He laughs, his hand rubbing up and down my back.

I'm wiping my tears when I pull away, catching his lips with mine when he leans down to kiss me for a second.

Knowing Duff was the one who bought the place from Mandy to begin with, I hug him to me next.

"Thank you." I sniffle out to him, giving him a tight squeeze before pulling away.

"It wasn't a problem, Viv." He assures me as Steven clears his throat.

"I wiped the finger prints off the mirror." He tells me and I smile, hugging him, too.

"Thank you." I say, ruffling his fluffy blonde hair.

Duff's grasping my hand, turning it over so my palm is facing upward before he's putting a key in it, closing my fingers around it.

I give him a genuine, grateful, closed-lip smile, and he returns it, his kind eyes seeming to have a spark of extra liveliness from being in his element of doing good things to make people happy.

I swear I can see Nikki scowling at us from the corner of my eye, but the look is gone from his face as soon as it arrives.

#nikki sixx #mötley crüe #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx x oc #gateway drug