#and don’t get me started on when she tries to climb the fucking sideboard because we’ll be here all night

[fingertipsmp3]

Non-exhaustive list of things I’ve called my dog today:

-Mabel (her name)

-Mabes

-Mabesie

-Pup-pup

-Baby

-Babygirl

-Stinky

-Girlie

-Maybelline

-A crackhead

[toria-lilith]

Smoke and Roses - A Douglas Booth!Nikki Sixx fan fiction (Chapter eight)

A/N: Hey guys! I just had to publish a new chapter to celebrate the arrival of Ruby Sixx! I’m so happy for Nikki and Courtney! I really hope you all enjoy this, (fairly angsty), chapter!

Wordcount: 1501 Trigger warnings: Alcohol, smut and angst Masterlist: Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven

Holland awoke the next morning in Nikki's arms with little memory of the night before. The throbbing pain behind her eyes hinted at a party, but she didn't remember drinking anything, let alone going to bed. She crawled out of bed, struggling to free herself from his vice like grip without waking him. He muttered something incoherent and she froze in the doorway but he didn't stir so she headed into the kitchen to find a pill that would stop her head spinning.

It looked as though she was the only one awake. The apartment must have been cleared of groupies and other party-goers during the night, because she was alone. She stepped over a broken bottle, careful not to slice her foot open on the glass, and started to search the cupboards. 

There was some shuffling behind her and she turned, expecting to see one of the boys, but instead there was a girl, a little younger than Holland, and though she was pretty she looked shy and a little awkward. She was still dressed in what looked like last night's outfit and her face was streaked with makeup. She didn't look like one of Motley's usual hookups, but Holland wasn't going to judge her. She'd seen all kinds of girls come through the apartment. "I... Um..." the girl stumbled on her words, unsure of what to say to Holland, who was looking at her, bemused.

"Sit down," Holland said, "I'll make you a coffee."

She smiled weakly and sat behind the breakfast bar, watching Holland move around the kitchen. "What's your name?" Holland asked, setting down a cup of fresh coffee in front of the girl.

"Hedy."

"Ahh, like Hedy Lamarr."

"Exactly!" Hedy's face lit up. 

"So what brings you to LA? You don't sound like you're from around here."

"I uh, I ran away from home," Hedy admitted with flushed cheeks, and it made sense to Holland. Most of the girls on the strip had exactly the same story. Nothing surprised her anymore. "I'm trying to start a new life." She paused to take a sip of coffee, and then asked, "are you Nikki's girlfriend?"

Holland bit her lip. "It's... complicated."

Hedy nodded understandingly. She looked back anxiously towards the bedrooms. "I left Tommy my number," she said, "do you think he'll call?"

Holland considered being truthful, but instead she forced a smile and said, "I'm sure he will."

Hedy giggled and shot Holland a bright smile. She drained her cup of coffee and then got up from the bar, "I should really go. I'm already late for work," she laughed brightly, "thanks for the coffee!"

Hedy climbed through the window, leaving Holland alone in the kitchen once again. She sighed, rinsing out the mug in the sink. "Poor girl," she muttered to herself. There was some more movement behind her and suddenly Tommy was at her side, reaching over her to take some cereal out of the top cupboard.

"Jeez, is she finally gone?" He said.

"She was sweet!"

"She was a psycho," he corrected her, "she told me she loved me, Holly."

"Well that's... intense." Holland laughed. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and a couple of aspirin from the sideboard before making her way back to the bedroom. She sat tentatively on the edge of the bed, careful not to wake Nikki, but a pair of arms snaked around her waist and a face buried itself in her back.

"G'morning," Nikki mumbled, his voice muffled by her shirt.

"Hi, you," she said softly, "I brought you some aspirin."

Nikki slowly sat up, lowering his chin to Holland's shoulder. "You're a star." 

"I know," she grinned. She took a small lock of Nikki's dark hair and twirled it around her finger. She wanted to ask him how he felt about her, but she was terrified she wouldn't like the answer. Nikki didn't strike her as the type of man who wanted a committed relationship. He seemed as though he wanted a girl he could do all the romantic things with, without calling it a relationship so he could fuck all the groupies he wanted to on the side. Holland felt like she was that girl, given she wasn't the groupie type.

"Listen, Holly," he said, suddenly serious as he sat up and looked her in the eye, "we have another show tonight at the Whiskey. Obviously, I would understand if you didn't want to come after what happened last night, but-"

"Nikki, I wouldn't miss it for anything. I'll be alright," she reassured him, "people like that can't scare me, and, besides, I've got you to take care of me." She added that last part with a grin.

"Mm, that's right," he flopped back against the bed, pulling Holland with him, "stay here?"

Holland giggled, "I can't Nikki, I'm sorry," she said, "I have a meeting with Doc today."

"That's boring," he insisted, pressing his face into her neck.

"Maybe, but someone needs some decent press before this tour with Ozzy." She reminded him. She sat up, pressing a light kiss to his temple before getting up. "I'll see you in a couple of hours."

"I'll be waiting."

Holland changed quickly, unbothered by Nikki's eyes following her every move. She combed her hair, securing it in a top knot, and then left him in the bedroom to meet Doc at a local diner. 

The meeting with Doc was slow, particularly when coupled with the hangover she was doing her best to conceal. If Doc knew she'd come to a meeting hungover, she'd never hear the end of it. By the end of it though, she'd scheduled three interviews for the band when the tour started, and arranged a merchandise deal for a new line of Motley Crue T-Shirts. Not bad for a girl with a hangover!

When Doc drove her back to the apartment, something felt... off. She couldn't explain it. It was like the air was thick and heavy with tension, and when she climbed through the window into the living room, the boys, (minus Nikki), looked mortified to see her back an hour earlier than scheduled. Vince was the first to jump up and rush to her. "Holland!" He said, feigning excitement. Holland saw right through his act.

"What's going on?" She asked, a little disturbed by their false joy.

"Holly, why don't we take a walk, hm?" Vince suggested, ignoring her question, "I'll treat you to lunch!"

"I just ate lunch. Why are you all being so weird?" She shrugged Vince off and stepped past him to go towards her bedroom. "Where's Nikki anyway? Is he seriously still in bed?"

"You really don't want to go in there," Vince said desperately as a final attempt to stop her. Holland rolled her eyes and decided to ignore him, pushing open the door to the bedroom. Immediately she wished she hadn't. Nikki was balls deep in a groupie, his back to the door. When he heard the door open he glanced back over his shoulder to chastise whoever had interrupted but when he saw Holland, his face fell. She staggered backwards away from the room, pulling the door closed. Nikki appeared seconds later, hastily buttoning up his trousers while the girl covered herself with the blanket.

"Holly, I-" He started, but she cut him off.

"D-Don't," she said, her voice wavering as she fought tears, "please, i-it's fine. I'm not angry. Why would I be? I mean, we're not even together, right? You knock yourself out."

"Holland-"

"It's fine!" Her voice became more shrill the harder she tried to suppress a sob. Nikki looked uncomfortably between Holland and the groupie, and then, wordlessly went back into the room, closing the door. Vince appeared at her side, pulling her into his arms and letting her cry into his shoulder. "I-I thought I meant something to him."

"I'm sorry, Holly," Vince sighed, "I tried to stop him bringing her here. I know how much he means to you."

"I just... I thought he liked me. I really did. But he was using me just like everyone else!"

"He's an asshole, I know," Vince said softly. "Come on, I'll get you a drink."

Holland let him lead her to the armchair, which she slumped into, and she waited patiently while he fixed  her a glass of scotch, which she threw back without thinking too much about it. "You okay?" Tommy asked.

She shrugged, wrapping her hands around the small glass. She wasn't, but truthfully, she felt like a fucking idiot. She'd come to do a job, and fallen for the biggest asshole in LA. She swallowed hard and forced a smile. "I'm fine," she said, trying to convince herself as much as she was the others. She wasn't going to let her heart get in the way of her work anymore and from then on, her relationship with Motley Crue was purely professional. Or at least, that's what she thought.

[fangirl-writing-fiction]

I’m in

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Words: 2,783

Warnings: a bit of angst, I guess, and some fluff

Summary: You and Dean have been on a hunt together. But not everything went as smooth as you had wanted it to.

Author’s Note: This is my entry for @impala-dreamer‘s One Prompt For All Challenge! (I hope I’m not late) The prompt is in bold in the fic. I hope you guys will enjoy it! 

The hard metal of the cuffs cut in your wrists as Dean tugged you along behind him. You felt the skin beneath getting sore, but you kept quiet as you followed him as quickly as you could without stumbling into him or putting too much of your weight on your hurt leg. Dean's shoulders were tense, his hand that was stuck in the other cuff, was balled into a fist and his whole demeanor screamed 'angry' at you. His steps were wider than yours and you were glad when the Impala finally came into view. Even if it meant that he was most likely going to yell at you, you'd rather have him do that when the cuff wasn't cutting in your wrist and your leg wouldn't hurt with every movement.

Dean slowed down a bit when he reached Baby's trunk and you matched your steps quickly to his. He opened the trunk and threw his angel blade inside, waiting for you to do the same, before he closed it with a loud thud and moved wordlessly to the driver's side. You stood in front of the driver's seat, wondering how you two would get in there, as Dean tugged on the cuffs, making you wince slightly. 

"You gotta get in there first, princess", he said gruffly, his green eyes hard. If you had been sorry before, he had now set fire to your rage. "Don't call me princess, for god's sake", you replied and ducked inside the Impala.

You climbed over the console, hissing slightly, when the gash on your thigh bumped against the gearstick.

"Oh, look! She talks!", he mocked you, when he climbed in after you.

You felt your cheeks turn red and a tight ball formed inside your stomach. The dumb pulsing in your leg and your wrist didn't help to calm your uprising anger either.

"Don't you dare to blame me for the silence on the walk back to the car, Dean! This isn't my fault! You were the one who walked ahead and put on that whole 'If you talk to me, I'm gonna end your life' demeanor."

Your wrist ached when you moved further down the seat and put again pressure on the sore skin, but you wanted to have as much room between Dean and yourself as possible. It was hard to be near him, when you weren't angry at each other because of your feelings for him. It was worse when you knew that you had disappointed him. Dean looked at you as if you'd gone totally insane.

"Sweetheart, I won't have you blaming me for any of this either. If you hadn't jumped in front of that damn demon, nothing of this would have happened!", he shot back and closed the door behind him.

You huffed out an exasperated breath and tried to cross your arms in front of your chest, but Dean's arm stopped your movement.

"You gonna move over here so that I can drive? Or do you have any other brilliant ideas that you'd like to share with the class?"

Blood rushed through your ears and almost drowned out every other sound as you moved close enough for Dean to start the engine.

"Fuck off, Dean. You know that if I hadn't jumped in front of you and took that hit you'd be almost dead right now."

He laughed humorlessly at that and shook his head as he shifted gears and pulled on the highway.

"Don't make yourself more important than you are, princess. I would have been more than fine without you."

You pressed your teeth together, almost being able to hear the crunching sound, and balled your hands into fists.

"Go fuck yourself, Dean Winchester", you hissed, before you turned your back at him and looked at the dark outside of the Impala. "Oh, I'll do that, Y/N/N, as soon as I got us out of those cuffs that you got us into!"

You remained silent for the rest of the drive back to the bunker and stared out of the window. When Dean finally pulled into the bunker's garage you had never felt more relieved to be back. The drive back hadn't been too long, only two hours, but when you climbed out behind the green eyed hunter, your limbs were stiff and your jeans were soaked with your blood where the demon had cut you. Dean waited for you impatiently while you climbed out and turned towards the map room as soon as you had gotten out, not sparing you a second glance when you stumbled after him.

He stopped in front of one of the sideboards and dug through the inventory of its drawer for a few seconds, before he found what he had been looking for. With a giant cutter he turned to the library. You followed him in silence. The hunt and anger in combination with the blood loss from your thigh had drained you and you felt slightly dizzy.

Sam sat in the library, books spread out in front of him on the table. He perked up, when he heard you and Dean approach. His gaze immediately caught the angry expression on his brother's face, before it moved to the cutter in his hands.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to kill me", Sam said, a slightly amused tone in his voice, but you caught the weary look in his eyes.

You knew that he remembered how his demon brother chased him through the bunker with a hammer and you honestly couldn't blame him for being weary. Dean might not have been a demon anymore, but he still wore the Mark of Cain and that made him just as unpredictable from time to time.

"If anybody, I'm going to kill her", Dean answered in response and tugged at the cuffs around your wrists, so that you moved closer towards the table. Sam frowned at the cuffs and shot you a questioning look at which you just quietly shook your head. You were too tired for this shit.

"Okay... So, what do you want me to do?", Sam asked instead and looked back at Dean, who handed him the cutter.

"We gonna pull the chain tight and you cut it. Don't want princess here to get hurt, do we?", he asked sarcastically and looked at you.

You avoided Dean's gaze and instead chose to just pull on the chain so that Sam could cut it in one fluid move. It took him a second to figure out how to hold the cutter, his elbow was still hurt, but when the tension left the chain you immediately moved away from the older Winchester and leaned against the table behind you. Dean looked at you from the corner of his eye, before he took the cutter out of Sam's hands and left the library without another word. The younger Winchester turned towards you, his eyebrows raised and a worried expression in his eyes.

"You look tired. And pale. What happened?", he asked, his gaze travelling over your appearance.

You sighed and shook your head.

"The case you found for us? It was pretty clear, actually. You were right with your guess that it had to be a demon. And we found it rather quickly. It had possessed a police officer. That's how he got into the victims' place to torture them."

You took a shaky breath and Sam's expression got even more worried. When his gaze caught the bloodstain on your jeans, he sprung into action immediately.

"Y/N, you got hurt, why didn't you say anything?", he asked exasperated. You shrugged and looked down at your feet. "It's not bad, I just need to rest." Sam shook his head at you and grabbed your hand without the cuff on it, to make you follow him to his room.

"If your jeans are blood drenched, I'm pretty sure it is bad. I'm gonna patch you up, alright. And you can finish telling me what happened to the two of you."

His tone didn't leave any room for discussion and so you followed him, before he told you to get rid of your jeans and to sit down on his bed. Sam went into the bathroom, returning a few seconds later with a first aid kit that he placed next to you on the bed. You had taken off your jeans and sat partly on the side of your left thigh so that you wouldn't put harmful pressure on the cut and didn't bleed on Sam's bed.

Sam made a disapproving sound and shook his head slightly at the sight of the gash on your thigh. It oozed blood slowly, but steadily, and judging by the look on Sam's face, you knew you needed stitches.

"You tell me this isn't bad, Y/N/N? This must have hurt like hell. How did you even get that?", Sam asked while he set to clean the wound. You sighed before you continued.

"It had figured out that we are hunters rather quickly. So, when Dean and I went to one of the victim's house, it followed us. We had been looking for any clues on who the demon had possessed, because there was no way we could have known that it was one of the police officers and it basically jumped on us. It kept me pinned against a wall...", you hissed when Sam used alcohol to clean your wound and he shot you an apologetic look, "... while it focused on Dean. Of course Dean put up a fight, but that demon bastard was quick on his feet. Even too quick for your brother."

You took in a sharp breath when Sam started to stitch you up, fisting his bed sheets in your hands.

"Keep talking, it'll distract you from the pain", Sam encouraged while he focused on the needle.

"For it being as quick, it also seemed awfully dumb", you continued. "Dean had fallen on the ground, his angel blade in the demon's hand and it was about to put an end to the fight. But it forgot to keep me locked on the wall, so I jumped in front of Dean, blocking the stab with the angel blade. Originally I had meant to kick it from its hand, but like I said, it was quick. After that it grabbed me and threatened Dean to drop all fight or it would kill me. That's how we ended up cuffed to the heater."

Sam finished your stitches and made sure to clean them again with an alcoholic wipe so that they wouldn't get infected, before he sat down next to you on the bed, taking hold of your hand that still had the cuff on it. He looked at it for a second, frowning, and grabbed his picklocks out of his bedside table.

"The demon had meant to torture us to death, just like it had done with its other victims, but it hadn't noticed how rusty the pipe leading to the heater was. Dean had managed to break us free, when it turned its back on us to grab one of its knives and killed it with the demon knife he had hidden in his belt."

Sam managed to pick the lock on the cuff and your wrist was finally free again. He had listened to everything you had told him with a deep frown on his face and it grew even deeper when he noticed that the cuff had broken the skin. It wasn't nearly as bad as the gash on your thigh and it didn't require stitches, but Sam insisted that it needed cleaning and a bandage, just to be safe. When he finished taking care of your wounds, he let out a deep sigh and looked at you.

"Y/N/N, do you realize why Dean reacted like that?", he asked you.

"Because he's angry at me, because he thinks that it was my fault that we got captured at all", you replied shrugging. "And look, Sam, I know that he's right. I'm sure he could have gotten himself out of that situation with that demon, but it was like my brain had gone blank. I couldn't just stand by, I had to jump in front of him, I had to keep him from getting hurt."

"You're wrong", Sam stated flatly and you looked at him in confusion. "He wasn't angry that you got the two of you in handcuffs, he was angry that you took that hit for him. That you got hurt because of him. You know how Dean usually is, how he puts all the blame on himself, for everything, even if it isn't his fault. And since he came back from being a demon, hell, since he got the Mark, it only got worse. Him seeing you getting hurt for him... I know that it's eating away at him right now. You need to talk to him, Y/N. Finally tell him how you feel, because he feels the same for you."

You looked at him as if he had gone mad.

"I don't think right now is the best timing for that kind of talk, Sam." Sam grinned at you.

"You're wrong again. Now is the perfect timing to talk to him about that. Don't tell me you haven't asked yourself as to why Dean, who once picked handcuffs by using the antenna of a car, kept you chained to each other?", he said and dangled the opened cuff in front of your nose.

You took a deep breath before you knocked on Dean's door. You had cleaned yourself up a bit and put on some clean clothes.

"Come in", Dean's low voice grumbled and you opened the door.

He sat on his bed, his back leaned against its headboard and his notebook next to him. When he saw that it was you he got up immediately. Dean looked tired but not nearly as angry as he did when you had arrived at the bunker and that gave you hope that this wouldn't turn into a total disaster. His gaze travelled down and caught the stitches on your right thigh.

"Sam stitched you up?", he asked and pointed at them. You nodded and moved closer to him.

"Look. I don't want to argue with you, alright? I came here to apologize. I didn't mean for us to get cuffed together. And I know that you're angry at me, because I got myself hurt by jumping in front of you. I just... I am sorry, Dean."

He took a deep breath and ran his hand down his face.

"I'm sorry, too, you know?", he replied. "I behaved like a total ass towards you and you didn't deserve that. I know that you meant well. And frankly, I know that I would have done the same, if you had been the one to lie on the ground. But, Y/N/N, that guy was freakishly fast. If you had moved only a second slower... If it had decided to just cut your throat..."

You nodded and moved even closer to him, so that your arms brushed against his whenever you took a breath.

"I know. I get it, though. I would have been just as angry as you. And I'm sorry that I put you into that position. But... Dean, I have a question. Why didn't you just...pick the lock on the handcuffs?"

Dean's eyes got wide and you noticed a small blush spread on his cheeks.

"I-I just didn't think about it", he mumbled, trying to avoid his gaze.

"Mhm", you replied and took another small step closer. "You sure this isn't because you wanted to keep me close?"

He cleared his throat at that, the blush spreading from his cheeks to his ears.

"Dean, it's alright", you said quietly, putting your hands on his biceps. "We've danced around each other for long enough, don't you think?"

"How...?"

"Sam told me."

Dean rolled his eyes at that and you laughed.

"Are you sure, Y/N? I don't want to drag you into that whole mess with the Mark", he said, looking at you cautiously.

Instead of replying, you leaned up on your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his. It took him a couple of seconds, before he reacted and kissed you back. You hummed lowly in the back of your throat and wrapped your arms around his neck when he placed his hands on your waist. When you had to move away to breathe, you smiled at him.

"I'm in, Dean, if you are."

A wide grin spread on his lips and his green eyes twinkled with joy.

"I'm so in, princess."