sanguinesixx

[sanguinesixx]

Me, about my characters’ dialogue while writing a scene at 2am:

Me, editing that same dialogue:

[sanguinesixx]

cat and mouse - seven

The game ends.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six

tag list!: @raversam @miamc2282008 @perxxxveka @fandomshit6000 @ohsososophisticatedd @anxious-diabetic @wheresmyvodkabitch @princesadeltoro

I’M BACKKKKKKK!!!!! Also, I love angst, sorry!  Also I know that what she says about drugs at the end is kind of a problematic mindset and it doesn’t reflect my views on addiction at all, I was just trying to portray an argument. People say bad things when they’re angry y’know? Enjoy!!!

The sun slants through the windows and cuts into your eyes. You blink the sleep out of your vision and roll over groggily, only to hit a wall of warm skin and muscle. Your nose registers his scent before your eyes see who’s next to you.

You don’t remember much from the night before aside from bits and pieces before you got too high. The only things that stick out from the green induced blur of last night is the prickly feeling in your lungs and the way Nikki looked asleep next to you.

Climbing out of bed as gently as you can so not to wake the beautiful, sleeping man in your bed, you sneak out of the room and into the kitchen. Danielle is in the kitchen pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“Good morning.” You say groggily.

She looks up and grins at you. “Morning. You want a cup?”

You nod, and she makes you your own cup exactly how you like it. The mug is hot when she hands it to you, so you pull your sleeves down around your palms to keep your hands from being burned.

The two of you stand in silence and sip your respective coffees until Danielle, in true untactful Lee fashion, says, “So why is Nikki Sixx in your bed?”

You turn bright red. “W—he’s not—um,” you splutter. “I can explain.”

“Explain what?” Nikki says from behind you, leaning against the door frame. “All the dirty, nasty, passionate sex we had last night?”

Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire. “The what?”

Nikki sidles up behind you and snakes an arm around your waist to pull you to his side dramatically. He’s schooled his expression into one of total seriousness, but the corners of his lips twitch with the effort to not smile. “Have you forgotten already? You wound my fragile heart.”

Danielle snorts, burying her face in her coffee mug. Your face is so hot you aren’t convinced it’s not actually on fire. “Did we really?”

Nikki still doesn’t break character. “Yeah, you were so loud, God, I’m surprised the whole apartment didn’t wake up.”

Magically, your blush deepens.

“Oh, knock it off, Sixx, she’s gonna have an aneurysm,” Danielle looks like she’s trying not to smile, too. “You put too much faith in your sexual prowess, anyway.”

He flips her off and lets go of your waist. Relief sweeps over you, and for good measure, you punch his shoulder. Danielle makes an effort to slap him as hard as she can on the same shoulder, snickering, as she leaves the kitchen. He scowls.

“For fuck’s sake.” He mutters, then turns to you.

There’s suddenly look in his eyes like warm honey, one you have never seen before, and it makes you feel as if molasses is settling into your bones. Like everything is suddenly in slow motion. You’re locked in his gaze immediately,

“We have a show tonight. Come.” Nikki hesitates, and then says, “There’s a party after. At a hotel.”

You tear your gaze away from the sugary sweet expression on his face. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Nikki.”

“Why not?”

“You know how I feel about you,” it feels like you’re drowning in the strange, molasses-y feeling. “And seeing you on stage...you just look so unattainable.”

A peek at his face reveals a look of confusion painted across his features. You continue, “Like—ugh—all the girls that want you, and the lights, and...your confidence when you go on stage is nothing like the confidence you have when you’re down here with the rest of us. When you’re not being a god.” Your voice drops to a murmur. “Watching you perform is the only time I feel like I want you so bad I might die.”

Nikki’s breath hitches audibly. When you look at him, his eyes are squeezed shut for the briefest of moments before he opens them and exhales steadily. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“You don’t have to come to the show. At least come to the after party?”

You agree. Nikki steps away from you like he’s moving through the same thickness that captured you when he looked at you with that look in his eyes. You can’t quite place it.

You’re alone in the kitchen, drowning, until Danielle comes in, sees your untouched mug of coffee and promptly bitches at you about wasting things.

——

Danielle is thrilled that you asked her to style you. She goes with red power shoulders and high waisted jeans for herself. For you, she decides on a belted, over-sized leather jacket.

She agrees to skip the show with you after hours of trying to convince you, just so you don’t have to walk to the hotel alone. She doesn’t understand why you won’t go—”He’s so hot on stage, and you know it! What’s not to want to see?”—but lets up when she realizes you aren’t giving in.

The hotel lobby is quiet, surprisingly enough. Apparently, the boys got a couple floors’ worth of rooms to throw a party somewhere that wasn’t their house. Danielle says they got tired of having to replace things that got broken.

The elevator is full of pretty girls and guys with entire cans’ worth of hairspray in their hair. Everyone is buzzing with excitement when the doors open on the third floor, and music fills the air.

You’re immediately dragged into the smoky atmosphere and found by Tommy. He hands you a beer and a shot of clear liquor that you take immediately. You’re going to need to be drunk to let loose tonight.

The music is loud. It’s a huge surprise you couldn’t hear it from the lobby. Danielle hands you another shot and a joint, and before you even realize it, you’re dancing with Danielle in the thickest of the writhing crowd.

The lights are colorful, like you’re at a concert. You realize after some time has passed that you don’t know where you are. A hotel? A hotel room, the hallway, the lobby? No, you feel the wind, like you’re on the roof, and it’s cold.

Hands belonging to someone faceless from the throng of people grab your waist and you keep dancing against them, looking back occasionally to reassess whether you knew him, as if it mattered. Your senses are overloaded: you smell vodka and beer and whiskey and the city and sweat, and you can’t stop dancing, and Danielle is right in front of you and looks like she’s glowing and she’s a goddess, and you’re throwing back another shot, and there are hands all over you, and you’re laughing and yelling along with everyone else and being handed a cigarette and put it in your mouth the wrong way and burn your tongue and suddenly your whole body is on fire and it’s fucking delicious—

You’re on the ground. You feel the jarring impact some time after you hit the concrete. Everything is spinning like you’re on a fair ride. When your vision reorients itself, you see Nikki on top of the guy that had his hands on your waist. He’s throwing punches like he wants to kill this guy. The music is too loud for him to hear you screaming at him to stop. There’s blood on the concrete and on Nikki’s face and hands.

Before you can even produce a rational thought, you’re pulling at Nikki’s arms and yelling his name. He stops and stares at you like he’s looking into the sun. On the next tug, he stumbles and lets you drag him away.

You take him into the nearest stairwell and scream at everyone to get the fuck out. They all give you looks like you’re insane, but leave anyway once they see Nikki.

It’s quiet. You take a moment to clear your head, feeling like you’re trying to think through mud. Nikki is jittery and trembling, no doubt from cocaine. You have seen him coked out thousands of times by now, and even if you hadn’t, his pupils areba dead giveaway.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You finally ask, miraculously keeping your voice level.

“He was touching you.” He says simply.

Your anger bubbles up in your chest and explodes. “So was Danielle! Are you going to hit her? Are you going to fucking attack everyone that touches me? Are you fucking crazy?”

Nikki opens his mouth to say something, but you barrel on, “We aren’t even together, and you think you can lay claim on me like that? Like you’re allowed to decide who gets to put their fucking hands on me?

“And what happened to getting sober? You’re high as a fucking kite right now, Nikki! And you attacked some random guy like a psycho! Have you lost your goddamn mind? Are you even listening to me right now?”

He runs a hand down his face. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? You don’t fucking know what? If you’re listening to me?”

“I don’t know why I got high, or why I did that, or what’s wrong with me.”

You make a foreign noise somewhere between a scoff and a high pitched, shrieking laugh. “What game are you playing with me, Nikki Sixx?”

“I’m not—”

“Then what are you doing?” You shout. Your voice echoes off the walls. “You try to seduce me for a bet, and then embarrass me on purpose, and then when I finally forgive you after months, you assault some poor fucking man neither of us even know just for dancing with me!”

“God, I’m sorry, the drugs...they bring out the worst in me.” He looks helpless. You feel a flash of pity before it’s drowned out by disdain.

You turn on your heel to get Danielle and leave. “Maybe it is the drugs that make you act like a piece of shit, but you choose to keep doing them, so what does that say about you?”

“Y/N, stop, I’m sorry—” Nikki calls after you. “I’ll go to rehab! Anything! I’m sorry, please. Don’t leave.”

You’re already gone.

[sanguinesixx]

His laugh is still so boyish 😁😁😁

[sanguinesixx]

[sanguinesixx]

Vince: “Look at that fucking cockroach!”

Tommy:

[sanguinesixx]

hey boo, i’m sorry you’ve been getting messages of people rushing you, guilt tripping you, etc. i hope you’re doing great and don’t worry about taking your time! you have a life just like the rest of us and people shouldn’t expect you to constantly give them what they want before taking care of yourself and the things you gotta do first. ily ❤️

thank you so much!! life just got so crazy, i could barely juggle the things i needed to do, let alone my hobbies. hopefully i’m back now though!

[sanguinesixx]

I just wanna say that I honestly love your writing. It’s so crisp and clean and it flows easily. And I love the creativity you’ve come up with! Not sure if we’ve ever talked but I just wanted to tell you that! 🤗

thank you omg, i can’t tell you how much this means to me! especially after being gone so long, haha. :)

[sanguinesixx]

how's it going with chapter 4? any luck? i'm on that chapter rn and it's killing me not being able to continue reading

i finally fixed it! chapter four is up :)

[sanguinesixx]

hey guys. sorry i’ve been gone so long. got caught up with life and fell into a rut. i can’t promise that chapter 4 will be done anytime soon, but i will chip away at it. i’m just now beginning to drag myself out of this and am focusing on myself primarily. thank you all for your kind messages and patience :)

[sanguinesixx]

tumblr completely fucked up chapter four of cat and mouse. it’s not there at all anymore. i’ll have to find out how to recover it because i stupidly didnt have another copy saved :(

[sanguinesixx]

cat and mouse - six

You compile your hand.

tag list!: @raversam @miamc2282008 @perxxxveka @fandomshit6000 @ohsososophisticatedd @anxious-diabetic @wheresmyvodkabitch @princesadeltoro 

Part One, Two, Three, Four, Five

“Alright,” you say. “I’ll bite.”

Nikki looks up, surprised. “Really?” The surprise stings a little, even though it’s not shocking that he would assume you’d tell him to fuck off.

You hesitate briefly to give the realization that there is no turning back and hiding behind Danielle and the boys a second to breathe. It’s time to be an adult, you think. The resolve settles and dries like concrete.

“Yeah, of course.” You breathe.

“You really mean it?” Nikki asks, still not convinced. Understandably, you suppose.

You nod, and he hugs you across the table with strength you didn’t realize he still had. He smells like cigarettes and expensive cologne, the one he always wears to parties. He use to say it was his aphrodisiac. Maybe he had a point, ‘cause the subtle, comforting scent of it is making you a little dizzy.

He pulls away and looks at you with sparkling eyes. “Can I take you home? Let me drive you.”

Nikki’s enthusiasm is contagious. You laugh softly as an unfamiliar, gentle warmth spreads through you. Agreeing is easy. A little extra time with him, alone, won’t hurt anybody.

His car smells like cigarettes, weed, and his cologne. He reaches across you to open up the glovebox and pull out something thin and white. You get a whiff of it and scrunch up your nose. You start to ask why weed doesn’t count in the getting clean part of things, but stop when he looks at you.

Nikki smiles apologetically. “It helps with the withdrawals.” You shut your mouth and decide it isn’t really your business, anyway.

“So,” he says, looking away from the road at you. “How’ve you been?”

“Watch the road!” You exclaim, laughing. His smile shines, heating up your chest. Something in it is dull, though. It’s probably just part of getting sober, withdrawals, you think, of course it would take a lot out of him. “I’ve been...okay. I have certainly been better.”

Nikki glances at you from the corner of his eye, eyebrow quirked. “Interesting.”

His tone brushes red across the tops of your cheekbones. How the hell does he do it so easily? None of the rest of the band could ever fluster you with their flirting, but then again, you’d never had feelings for them like you have for Nikki.

“Why interesting?” You ask hesitantly. Your walls are up and you’re on guard. The flirting is still a vague red flag in the back of your mind.

“Well, it’s just,” he grins, oblivious. “I thought you were getting on so great without me.”

You groan. “Hilarious,” you say, and then backtrack a little and settle on, “I don’t know what gave you that idea, but you should probably find more reliable sources.”

He looks as surprised as you feel, but doesn’t say anything as he pulls up next to your apartment building. He grips the top of the wheel with one white-knuckled hand and runs his fingers through his product-less hair. It’s clear he hasn’t put much effort into his appearance, and it makes him look more vulnerable to you. Softer around the edges.

“Look,” Nikki starts, voice dripping with regret. “I’m sorry about...everything.” He laughs nervously.

You shrug. “I think we can work through it. I can’t—I just can’t forgive you immediately. I need time to trust you again. But I’m willing to try.”

He nods. It’s quiet in the car for a second, Nikki looking at his hands on the wheel, you staring out the window. “Well,” you say. “Let’s go in.”

“What? Doesn’t Danielle hate me?”

Another shrug. “I don’t think so. Either way she’s gonna have to learn not to.”

—

Inside, Danielle is on the couch in black lingerie. Her hair is loose around her shoulders, and a few curls slide down her forearm when she lifts her cigarette to take a drag. She’s not wearing makeup and looks flawless as always.

“Hey, Y/N,” she greets around a cigarette, twisting around to look at you. “How was wo—holy shit!”

Danielle’s face turns blotchy red. “You have a lot of fucking nerve being in here, Nikki Sixx.” She walks towards the two of you, cigarette still hanging out of the side of her mouth, shoulders tensed.

“Danielle....” You warn, but she ignores you in favor of staring Nikki down. Her gaze is intense even for you.

Then, so fast you would’ve missed it if Nikki hadn’t reacted, she reels back and slaps him right across the face. “Fucking shit!” Nikki yelps. “Where the fuck did you learn to hit like that?”

“Tommy. Good to see you, dickhead.” She grins, and pulls him into a hug.

“You too, you fucking demon.” Nikki tries to smile but ends up wincing and cradling the side of his face. Danielle moves gracefully into the kitchen and throws him a bag of something frozen. You push him to the couch and press the ice against his cheek.

Danielle sits down on the loveseat, lounging back and crossing her long legs. “So,” she begins. “Do you wanna tell me why Nikki Sixx is in our house right now?”

“I—”

“Because just yesterday you were refusing his calls, and now you’re nursing him back to health with a bag of peas.”

You drop the bag like it burned you and clear your throat. “We, uh, talked.” Danielle raises a perfect eyebrow. “At the diner. Actually talked. With words. He’s getting sober.”

She shoots you a smug smile. “Well, should I leave you two alone, or should I invite the boys over and order pizza?”

“Pizza.” You say automatically.

“Great! Nikki, you’re paying. I’ll see what I can do about some hash to spice up the night. Nothing else, I won’t sabotage Nikki’s sobriety.” Then she’s making calls in the kitchen.

—

Danielle does, in fact, get weed. The living room is filled with smoke, turning everyone hazy until someone lights up and the lighter turns them golden. Your lungs fill with hot, itchy air when you inhale, like you can’t get the smoke out of your lungs no matter how hard you try. It’s uncomfortable but easily overshadowed by the euphoric buzz crawling deep under your skin.

The T.V. is on and playing MTV at the lowest volume. It’s quiet, but the visuals from music videos are all you want to concentrate on. The only thing you can concentrate on, though, is the hot line of Nikki pressed to your side. His cologne cuts through the comfortable fog that’s settled in your head. It seems so easy, so in reach to lay your head down in his lap that you do before your brain can catch up with you. Nikki tangles a hand in your hair gently.

You must fall asleep like that, because when you open your eyes next, it’s two o’clock in the morning, and everyone is passed out in various places in the living room. There’s a girl you don’t recognize on the couch with Danielle. She’s really pretty and has her head on Dani’s shoulder. Their fingers are loosely woven together in between them.

You shake Nikki awake, still pretty buzzed. He blinks awake groggily and slurs “What time is it?” You hush him and sleepily pull him to your bedroom. He collapses on your bed immediately and curls up under your duvet while you slip into shorts and a t-shirt before crawling in next to him.

Nikki’s dark eyelashes fan across his cheekbones, a contrast to the pale, white skin stretched across them. You watch him in a weed induced trance, admiring each little slant of his face until your eyes get too heavy to keep open. His breathing is deep and slow and even. You fall asleep to it like a lullaby.

[sanguinesixx]

if i am not responding to your messages

it is most likely because

i am in school // working

i am sleeping

i am busy with something else that requires full focus

there’s no service where i’m at

there’s a friend over at my house // i’m over at a friend’s house

i don’t feel like talking at that very moment

it is not because

i hate you

you are bothering me

i want to upset you

i am ignoring you

so please do not

guilt trip me to respond

spam me until i respond

negative post about me

feel like i am trying to push you away

because if you do i will

continue to ignore you most likely

block you if the problem pursues

this has been a psa about iming me <3

[sanguinesixx]

I LOVE cat and mouse. I can't wait for the next chapter!!

THANK YOUUUUUU ❤️ it’s finally up!

[sanguinesixx]

Wow I’ve been waiting anxiously for the new cat & mouse chapter and hot dang I’m not disappointed I love a cliff hanger 😫

this makes me so happy omg but i’m so sorry for keeping you waiting!!! ❤️❤️

[sanguinesixx]

cat and mouse - five

You hold all the cards.

tag list: @raversam @miamc2282008 @perxxxveka @fandomshit6000 @ohsososophisticatedd @anxious-diabetic @wheresmyvodkabitch

I’m so, so sorry this took so long. I’ve had finals and I had to go to a funeral over the weekend. I should be better about updating now that my little hiatus is over. Chapter two of Love Letter should be up soon, too. Thank you guys so much for your patience!

“Oh, God, Y/N,” Nikki heaves a sigh of relief across the line. “I never thought you’d call.”

“Surprise.” You mumble.

He huffs, getting ready to give you a speech. “Look, I know I fucked up. Sometimes the drugs make me say and do stupid fuckin’ shit, y’know? I wish I could just switch it off. You don’t have to forgive me, hell, you probably shouldn’t, but I need us to be cool. I have to know you don’t hate me.” His voice cracks at the end, stumbling over ‘hate’ like he wants to know but doesn’t want to hear you say it. The emotion is small but enough to feel like you’ve been hit by a linebacker.

“I’d like to,” you say, quiet.

“What?”

“I’d like to hate you.” The line crackles with his breath. It’s silent. He wants you to continue, and you regret calling. “I don’t, though. Hate you.”

“Why not?”

You turn to lean your back against the counter. The granite digs uncomfortably into the knobs of your spine. “I don’t know,” you pause, throat closing briefly. “Maybe I do. I just don’t want to believe that I could hate you for anything.”

“Everyone hates me for something.” Nikki says.

“Maybe,” You repeat. “But hating you won’t fix anything.”

The acrylic of the phone is starting to stick to your cheek. You shift it to your other ear just as he says, “I fucked you over. Don’t forgive me for that.”

“I’m not forgiving you for that yet, but I want to. Someday. Soon.” You reply.

Nikki sighs again, turning him into white noise. “Why did you call me?” He sounds exhausted suddenly, like you’ve worn him down to white, vulnerable bone.

“For the band,” you admit. “At first, I considered it for your band. I went through with it for myself.”

“Why the band?”

“I was scared of fucking it up for you. Shit, Nik, Tommy broke your nose for me. I thought that if we didn’t talk, it’d fall apart.” Your voice is starting to get that familiar vibrato to it, shaking in your chest like a second heart.

“Why yourself?”

The vibrations increase in your chest. “Because I don’t like how I feel without you in my life.”

It goes quiet. There’s a humming from an old truck coming from somewhere outside, a drunk man slurring the words to a Fleetwood Mac song on the street, and your heartbeat in your ears.

“It’s getting late.” He still sounds weak. For you. Weak for you.

You nod before remembering he can’t hear you, and mumble an agreement.

“Let’s talk tomorrow when you get off work. At the diner.”

“Alright.” Your voice is nearly a whisper.

“Goodnight.” The call ends.

In your bed, curled up under your sheets, you whisper, “Goodnight, Nikki.”

Nikki comes into the diner two minutes after your shift ends just as you’re untying the decorative white apron from around your waist. He looks pale, less like he hasn’t slept and more like he’s been binging.

He sits down at the same booth as always. In the month you hadn’t seen him, or at the very least hadn’t paid attention to him, he’d deteriorated. You sit down across from him, vinyl squeaking under you.

“Nikki,” you say gently. He looks at you like he hadn’t noticed you were there. “Hey.”

He nods at you, weak smile perched on his lips. “’s been awhile.”

Your heart curls in on itself at his state. “When was the last time you slept, Nik?”

His shoulders lift in a barely-there shrug. It’s clear to you how he’s been dealing with things. You feel a bright flash of guilt that you fared far better than he did, followed by anger that you’re even this worried about him in the first place. You can’t help it despite the hurt he caused.

“Maybe you should go home.” You suggest. He shakes his head with a lot more energy than you would’ve guessed he had.

“I came here to talk to you.” Nikki says, final.

You squeeze your eyes shut briefly. “You came here looking half dead.”

Another shrug, no reply. He needs to go home and rest. You don’t have faith that he could stand back up and walk through those doors on his own. The more selfish part of you wants him to stay; not resolving this now would break your heart. 

“Then, talk.” You say, leaning against the back of the booth.

He runs a pale hand down his face. You know he’s in no state to have a conversation that holds your emotions in the palm of its hand, and yet you let it happen anyway. Maybe, you think fleetingly, this is why you got hurt in the first place.

“I’m sorry,” Nikki breathes. “My head lately...it’s been fucked. So fucked. The drugs--” he pauses. “I can’t think straight. Wasn’t thinking about anything I did to you, and when I was, I was too high to make sense of it.”

It suddenly clicks in your mind why he looks like shit, why he sounded so tired on the phone, why he desperately wants your forgiveness. “You’re getting sober.” You say, surprised. 

He nods. “Trying to, at least.”

“Shouldn’t you be in rehab?”

“Probably.”

You laugh despite yourself. He’s getting clean, a huge step, but is still too stubborn to go to rehab. 

Nikki leans closer to you across the table. His ribs press against the edge of the acrylic, and closer up he looks even more rough. “I want to get sober,” he whispers. “For the band. For you.”

Something in your chest contracts. “You don’t have to get sober for me to accept your apology.”

Nikki shakes his head. “That’s not why. I mean, it’s part of why, I guess, but that’s not why I’m doing it.”

You stare at him. You’re trying to keep the emotion off your face because the last thing you want right now is to be vulnerable in front of him, but you can feel it bleed onto your features anyway. You don’t ask why he’s doing it for you, but he tells you anyway: “I care about you. I don’t know exactly what that means and I want to figure it out, but I can’t do that high all the time.”

Now, you realize, he’s given you all of the cards. There’s three options to take. You can give in and give him what he wants, God fucking knows you want it too, or you can leave, tell the boys you’ve forgiven him and never speak to him ever again. The third option, the one the smallest but loudest part of you wants to take, is to pretend. Keep your aces hidden and pretend to go along with what he wants.

Looking at him now, the decision is clear. You can be cruel, but you would never stoop so low as to kick him when he’s so obviously down.

“Alright,” you say. “I’ll bite.”

[sanguinesixx]

Guns n Roses - 88s

iiii]; )’

[sanguinesixx]

The Dirt (2019) dir. Jeff Tremaine