#like sorry i've got the blood-drinking go-ahead nothing else matters now no time for thinking

[zoophagist]

The guest presses a fingernail to the vein on his throat, but does nothing to open it. He simply taps against it, a clear rhythm of two-one-two-three. His lips move, as if casting a spell, but he doesn't actually voice what he thinks: Water, may it be just water, may it do nothing to quench his thirst, nothing at all. "Sure, sure. Take your fill. Your teeth and nails are strong enough, right?" he says and smiles slyly.

He does not even answer; instantly Renfield's mouth is at the guest's neck. The savagery of teeth biting down into skin is thrilling, uncomplicated by any scruples as he twists and tears to make up for their bluntness. In the release of this beastly hunger there is even a quieting of his guilt, his embarrassment. To bite down and make the flesh part feels so very good.

Lips and tongue work over the broken skin eagerly to suck up the thick, red stream of LIFE coursing through the veins of such a powerful being — life that can be his, can be Renfield's. How wonderful it is to be rewarded, how excellent to take—

Water? The first pull slides over his tongue and down his throat and it tastes of nothing but clear, bland water. He falters, and the instant of stillness cannot but make his confusion obvious to the body under his mouth and hands. But surely this can't be... So he drinks and drinks, more and more heavily, waiting for the spark, the metallic tang of blood to slake his thirst, and he clutches more forcefully at the man, and he bites again, and again, and again, desperate, dizzy, starving. It is a frenzy, far beyond what the guest's offer could be understood to justify, but still his jaw works and his teeth sink and all there is in this gore is water!

Renfield makes an animal noise of frustration, and he thinks to himself, 'This is a trick. I have been lied to again and it is a damned trick!' Are they all so cruel, he had wondered only moments ago, and now the answer is clear as flowing water: yes. All cruel, all selfish, all temptations and takings and never justice. This useless, inert water may do nothing to warm his weakened, blood-starved body, but his fury does.

And that is when he begins to CHEW. "Liar!" He growls as he makes his teeth meet in the guest's neck and he starts to pull.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The Enforcers Part 8 (Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader)

wc: 1.7k

tw: dark content (self-harm)

masterlist

a/n: By no means do I condone self-harm or want to glorify it in the light of this chapter. As a person who struggled with physical self-harm in her early teens, I know the destructive nature of this type of activity. However, as my characters are not perfect and complicated, I see this particular mode of action as something she would try to do in order to alleviate her pain and confusion. If you have questions or concerns, my inbox is always open to having a discussion about it.

If you so wish, you may skip this chapter altogether. There will be a recap on the next one if you choose to skip for your mental health. Take care of yourselves and see you soon. (ALSO, I know I promised smut but I gotta give y'all a raincheck this go-round. SORRY PLS DON'T KILL ME)

You're on your forty-seventh file of scandals, coverups, and secret dossiers that you finally feel it. The fabric of your identity begins to unravel right before your eyes.

Everything you've known is a lie.

The CSB has covered up so many things. So many lives lost. So many people forced to flee. So many families ripped apart--

An email makes its way over to the server, and you open it, the words across the screen coming from Suguru.

I know it's late, but send over Yu Haibara's files when you can.

You hit the reply button and begin to type out: "You mean the boy you killed?" but you stop yourself, deleting the words rapidly. Instead, you attach the files and send them over, not even bothering to look at them. You can't do it. Not another file could be stored away in the annals of your brain.

Nothing is as it seems anymore. The lies... they pile up in your mind, flooding the spaces where you used to hold what you thought was true, what you thought was real. Now, they're overflowing out of your brain and into your heart and soul, plaguing you like the nightmares that face you down night after night, more like demons that lurk in the corners of your mind than full file cabinets.

You always wake up in a tangle of sheets and sweat, one of your various enemies' faces hovering over you right before you stare down the barrel of a gun and --

You stumble out of the chair, eyes wet with tears, and go to the sink in the bathroom to wash your face. After you splash water on your skin, you look up at your reflection, anger rolling through you at the way you look. Weak.

You're fucking weak.

The voice in your head that usually told you that you were doing okay, that you had it all under control, is now turning on you, spitting nasty words that stick in between the synapses of your brain a muddy your rational thoughts.

The voices rise to a fever pitch, and you suddenly see red, the entirety of the world descending into blood-colored madness. The shattering of the glass mirror only becomes a reality when you're standing above the sink, chest heaving as your thoughts silence one by one, like shutting off lights in a house.

But only one stays behind as a shard of the mirror clinks into the sink.

Escape.

The light at the end of the tunnel.

You could get rid of the feelings here. You could get rid of the thoughts. You could escape. Why hadn't you thought about this before?

"Do it."

Your fingers grip the jagged shard of glass carefully, and before you can stop yourself, you drag it across the inside of your wrist, end to end, leaving behind a red line of blood that immediately blooms. Crimson dots drop into the sink, and you stare at the color, mesmerized by the way the blood runs down your arm and into the porcelain bowl. But there's no relief.

No sense of freedom.

Maybe you didn't do it hard enough?

Maybe you didn't--

The door to your room slams open, and you turn your head just as Suguru comes rushing into the bathroom. The shard of glass is still in your hand, as well as the blood running down your arm, and Suguru catches this immediately.

"Fuck," he breathes, and you turn to him, shard extended.

"Don't come any closer."

"Y/n," he calmly whispers. "You don't look so good."

"I wonder why that is," you reply, and Suguru stares back at you, hands raised in surrender.

"What're you doing?"

"What does it look like, Suguru?" you state in a trance. Your bullet wound begins to throb dully, but you ignore it, just like you're ignoring the blood dripping onto the tile flooring.

"Y/n, let's think about this."

"I don't want to think anymore!" The shrill scream is loud enough to make Suguru flinch, and you softly repeat, "I don't want to think anymore," over and over again as tears run down your face.

"I know," Suguru whispers. "I know. Will you let me help you?" You hiccup and drop the piece of glass to the floor, dissolving in a heap of tears and moans. You feel hands pulling you up from the floor and into strong arms, your head being cradled against a broad chest you've felt before. "Go ahead," Suguru encourages you. "Cry it out."

He carries you to another room in the building in silence, laying you on a firm bed and disappearing as you heave painful sobs into the sheets.

"Everything... hurts..." you gasp, and when Suguru reappears with a white bundle of cloth, a bandage roll, and some water, he nods.

"We're going to make it better, don't worry." He takes your injured arm and carefully wipes away the blood, examing the cut slowly. "Doesn't need stitches, thankfully." He turns to open the water bottle and hands it to you, silently telling you to drink while he bandages your wrist.

You drink the water greedily then lean back on the headboard, eyes closing down as Suguru works diligently on your wound. And then you remember the first time he did this for you and the mistake you made in your pridefulness.

"Thank you," you murmur, and Suguru looks up at your face, finally seeing some form of clarity cross your tear-streaked cheeks.

"You're welcome," he replies tenderly. "I have to keep you safe, remember? I promised you that I would." You don't answer him, but he finishes at that exact moment anyways, standing and placing the remnants of the bandage roll on the nightstand. The wound is now covered up completely, with no sign of blood seeping through the cotton and staining the white cloth dark red.

You watch as Suguru crawls into the bed beside you, sighing deeply as he runs his fingers through his locks. "Should I stay awake with you or do you want to try to sleep?"

"Sleep," you answer - albeit not confidently - and the black-eyed man obliges, pulling the thin sheet over you.

"I'll be right here," he affirms, but you reach out your uninjured arm and touch his hand. He instantly turns his palm up to let you grab his fingers, and you pull him closer to you in the king-sized bed.

"Hold me." A second passes with no movement, and Suguru whispers,

"Are you sure?" You nod, and he wordlessly scoots closer, wrapping an arm around you as you nestle into his side with your bandaged hand resting on his chest. His fingers rub a soft pattern up and down your skin, soothing you to the brink of sleep. "I've got you. We'll deal with everything else in the morning," Suguru murmurs as you slip off into a dreamless - and nightmare-less - sleep.

_____________________________________________________________

Morning comes and goes.

Midday arrives, and you awaken from your terrorless sleep still encased in Suguru's grasp. Your eyes flick up to his face, which is peaceful in the midday light streaming in from the windows. The Leader of the Fallen Sun District is asleep and dead to the world around him, but the sound of his breathing lets you know he's on the brink of waking up.

Part of you doesn't want him to. You want to lay there without any responsibilities to him, without any concern, or further harm to either one of you. Maybe if you continued to sleep, all of this would become a distant memory. All of this would go away, and you could go back to living in ignorance.

But Suguru's stirring makes you stiffen, and you feel his arms tighten around you before sliding away.

"You're awake."

"Yeah," you whisper, and he sits up, pulling his knees to his chest.

"We need to talk about last night." You sit up as well, staring at the edge of the bed blankly. "Why didn't you tell someone about your declining mental health?"

"I didn't realize it until it was too late," you admit, looking at the bandage on your wrist. "But I won't be doing that again."

"Doesn't matter," Suguru interjects, looking over at you. You choose to avoid his gaze and stare at your feet, inhaling deeply. "I have to have someone watch you now. I want you to be safe, and now I'm not sure if I can ensure that without some oversight on my part."

"No," you exhale quickly, looking over at him in fear. "I'm better now, I promise."

"I'll have someone move a few of your things over here. That way I can keep an eye on you, just in case." Suguru continues, standing from his position on the bed. "I won't bother you. But I made a promise to you, and I'm going to keep it at all costs." He turns back to you, stating, "Today we'll take a day off and go into the town. I've been wanting to show you around for a while anyway."

You conclude the argument is over when he places a kiss on your temple, then walks into his bathroom, shutting the door and leaving you on the bed alone.

_____________________________________________________________

A car picks both of you up from the building, and when you slide into the backseat, Suguru points to the expanse in the distance.

"Take us to the marketplace." The driver nods, scars running up and down his pale face and his blue eyes looking up at you in the rearview mirror. Does this man even know that he's sitting next to the leader of the Fallen Sun district? Or is Kenjaku a faceless man, hiding behind walls of ones and zeroes?

The scenes that pass by you look identical to those of the city you know and love. There are children playing on the sidewalks, people carrying groceries, life carrying on as if the majority of their names aren't on some rejected list of people who defected from their previous society. Suguru notices your awe at the way things are, and looks over at you, smiling brightly.

"You'd be surprised what you can build from ashes, y/n."

_____________________________________________________________

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[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Seventy-One

Sorry it's late, I ended up accidentally drugging myself when I got in from work last. I had a migraine and my mom gave me one her of Amitriptyline and I didn't realize it was going to knock me the fuck out for 12 fucking hours. I woke up earlier today and was so confused, work clothes still on, makeup still on, but my migraine went away so I guess it worked.

I told you guys a cut a part out (I'm saving it for another chapter) part of it was the preview for this chapter with the flashback of when Nikki came home after Viv and Duff were being nasty in his bed...anyway enjoy the chapter!

Words: 4k

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

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"What?" I ask Fred, taking a few deep breaths and he raises his brows. 

"They just got here today, Viv, there's no way in hell that kid's biting the hand that's feeding him, over you, without there being a damn good reason." He states and I sigh, only causing him to nod his head. "That's what I thought. Does Sixx know?"

My eyes widen as I glare at him as if he's crazy. 

"Is Nikki acting like he knows?" I sarcastically say and Fred crosses his arms. "No." I add, deciding now is not the time for sarcasm. "No, Nikki doesn't know...I mean, we haven't been seeing each other, really. We've only hooked up one time." I try to reason.

"When?"

"When we went on break in September for a few days." I explain, fumbling with my fingers. 

"What, you got a hotel room or something?" He presses and I apparently give away what happened because his eyes are going to the size of saucers and he's raising his eyebrows. 

"Fred," I start.

"You fucked another man in Sixx's house?" He asks me in shock that I had the audacity to do such a thing. 

"He slept with Vanity in our house, so why not?" 

"Yes, because the way to put a fire out is to start a completely different fire!" He raises his voice. 

"Shh!" I put my hand over his mouth. "If anyone finds out about this, I'm done with, and so is Guns N' Roses." I hiss at him. 

"Highly doubt Duff's waking up after a night of plowing you like a field, thinking about his career, or else he wouldn't be sleeping with you in the first place." Fred says back quietly. "And you, what the fuck are you doing? Are you insane? If you get caught you're done for." 

"I know." 

"Then why're you letting it happen?" 

"I don't know, alright? I just…" I let out a breath and think for a moment. 

"Do you like, love him or something?"

"No, of course not." I insist. "Well, I love him, but not like in love with him." 

"Do you love Nikki?" 

"It doesn't matter if I do or not. We're over with once the tour is done." 

"You've both completely annihilated your vows, Vivian, I think it's safe to say you two have been over." He replies and I don't answer, ignoring that realization. 

I continued to ignore that realization until Nikki served me divorce papers once he got out of the hospital after he overdosed.

I try to hold back a laugh as Donna politely rejects Steven for the umpteenth time since he met her, and he pouts at me as she walks away.

“Viv, I’m going crazy.” He tells me. “I’m losing the charm, I think.”

“Oh, c’mon, Stevie, you aren’t losing the charm. Donna’s just a hard nut to crack because she and Emi have been put on a ‘don’t sleep with the opening band’ order.” I suggest and he maintains his let down facial expression. “And Emi and Mick are already a thing and catch hell for it, so Donna’s more than likely not wanting to be in the same predicament.”

“This is so unfair.” He crosses his arms.

“Just hook up with groupies.” I shrug.

“I’m trying but they’re all leftovers from what Tommy, Vince and Nikk--” He abruptly stops speaking and I raise my brows.

“What was that?” I ask him.

“Nothing…” He mumbles.

“I already thought Nikki was hooking up with groupies, but thank you for confirming it.”

“Well,” He starts, glancing around to make sure the coast is clear before he’s pointing out, “you’re hooking up with someone else, too, so does it matter?”

He’s got a valid point and I raise my brows, deciding I can’t argue with that.

“No.” I say quietly. “I suppose it doesn’t.”

The guys are getting off stage soon enough, being brought back down from hyperventilation before starting in for tonight’s plans.

“Strip club.” Tommy and Vince say simultaneously.

“Stevie, you comin’ with?” Tommy offers  and Steven glances at me as if asking for permission although I honestly don’t care if he hangs out with them or not.

I’m just waiting for Duff to finish up his conversation with Axl and Izzy in their dressing room.

“Mick, you wanna come?” Tommy asks next, resulting in Mick glancing at Emi.

She shakes her head a little bit, barely noticeable. Barely.

Nikki lets out a shiteating laugh and I prepare for what’s about to happen.

“Nikki, lay off--”

“--Tommy, you shouldn’t have asked. You know Mick can’t take his mouth away from Emi’s teat long enough to make his own big boy decisions.” Vince and Tommy laugh at Nikki’s words, while Mick just lets out a heavy sigh and looks down at the ground not wanting to argue.

“Okay, Nikki, seriously, stop.” I state, glaring at him.

“Okay, Vivian, seriously, mind your own fucking business and stop being such a--”

“--Hey, everybody shut it.” Fred pops his head in, hearing an argument about to start. “Guns is riding back to the hotel with us, their ride has a flat.” He adds.

"Whoo!" Steven cheers, high-fiving Tommy.

I slip past Fred to see Axl and Duff waiting for us to get ready to go.

"Where's Slash?" I ask them, furrowing my brows a little. 

He's soon enough stumbling from the bathroom, wiping vomit from his mouth, causing me to wrinkle my nose as he mutters, "I'm right here." 

Slash was Nikki's trouble-buddy on the tour. They'd stay at the hotel bar until it closed nearly every night before hitting the town. Most of the time Tommy and Steven would tag along or split and go do something else of their own. 

Axl never really bonded with the guys as much as Izzy, Duff, Slash, and Stevie did, but everyone got along and considered each other good friends. 

Crazy how things would take a turn a couple years later.

We all wait patiently to file into the bus one by one and, of course, Vince and Tommy have girls with them while Nikki seems satisfied by just having a conversation with Slash and Izzy.

I catch myself looking for Tansy and Sparkie...until I remember they left to go score. 

All is well until Mick says something to Emi and she giggles like a school girl with a crush, and I can see Nikki's face getting red with anger as she's about to step ahead of Mick onto the bus. 

Nikki's plucking Slash's Jack bottle from his hand and pours the whiskey down Emi's jacket. 

She gasps, stopping in her tracks, horror on her face as she turns around to face him. 

"Nikki, what the hell is wrong with you?!" I demand. 

"Oops." Nikki slickly smirks, handing the now empty bottle back to Slash, who--like everyone else--is at a loss for words as Nikki cuts in line and gets on the bus before Emi can recover. 

I look at Duff, trying not to get overwhelmed with anger. 

He shrugs his jacket off, preparing to offer it to Emi so she doesn't have to wear her wet jacket. 

"Here, you can borrow mine." He tells her and she looks at him a second, tears in her eyes as Tommy, Vince, and their groupies walk around her to get inside. 

"Thanks." She mumbles, taking her wet jacket off and slipping on Duff's warm, dry one. 

"That wasn't cool." Steven mumbles about Nikki when we get on the bus, seeing him and Tommy laughing obnoxiously while Emi and Mick sit as far away as possible. 

I'm about to plop down beside Steven when I see Nikki whisper something to Tommy a couple seats ahead of us.

He smiles deviously at whatever Nikki just told him, before he's drinking a gulp of Jack and keeping it in his mouth, only to stand up, walk to the back seats, and spit it on Emi and Mick.

Nikki ruptures into sick laughter with Tommy, and I've had enough. 

I glance down at Steven's skull ring and take advantage of him not paying attention, to take it off of him, quickly. 

"Viv, what're you--"

I don't give him the time to finish his question before I've got the ring on, and I'm standing up as Tommy comes back by, punching him--his skin splitting where the heavy ring made contact.

I can tell he’s seeing red, I don’t help much when I sarcastically add, “oops.”

Everyone’s struggling to get as apart before he can slap me, Steven letting out a high-pitched scream when Tommy tries to bombard over him to get to me after Stevie pushes me on the other side of him.

Duff and Nikki get Tommy off of me and Steven, a trail of blood running down my friend’s cheek.

“Get her off my fucking bus!” Tommy demands at Fred once he comes back here to settle everyone off while Doc is behind the wheel.

“I wish someone would try to kick me off.” I threaten, knowing they wouldn’t get my ass off the bus without getting mauled first.

“Why the fuck can’t you take a fucking joke without being a fucking psychopath?!” Tommy asks me, yelling.

“You spitting a drink on them isn’t a fucking joke, just like Nikki pouring alcohol all over her isn’t a fucking joke!” I hiss back.

“If it bothered her, she would fucking speak up, Vivian, you’re not Jesus--stop trying to save everybody!” He sneers.

“She can’t speak up for herself because you assholes would try to fucking fire her!”

“And that’s none of your business if we did!”

“Both of you, shut the fuck up and calm do--”

“--I’m not calming down until you get that crazy bitch off this fucking bus.” Tommy interrupts Fred.

“Tommy, we’re not kicking her off the bus, now sit down!” Fred insists.

“You don’t have to kick me out, I’m gone.” I state, grabbing my purse, stepping over Steven’s legs to get in the aisle.

“Vivian, sit down!” Nikki orders me where he’s now standing, and I scoff in his face and shove past him.

“Vivian, please, don’t go anywhere.” Fred pleads, tired, and just wanting everyone to behave.

“I’d rather burn for an eternity than spend another minute on this bus with such sad, disgusting, strung out, drunk, bitter people!” I shout, walking to the door.

I hear several steps behind me, and I think it’s Nikki and Fred stomping after me, but I turn to see Axl, Izzy, Duff, and Steven following after me.

Slash is already passed out, oblivious to what’s been happening.

“K.” I say to Doc as he glances at me and sighs out. “Can you stop the bus and open this door?”

I thought we would get off that bus and walk to the hotel in peace, but turns out I left one fight and got into another one.

“You didn’t have to follow me, Axl, alright? I didn’t ask you to so there was no reason for you to come out here with me!” I tell him after he makes a comment about me getting them in trouble, possibly.

“No, I didn’t have to, but you’re my friend and I didn’t want you to be out here by yourself, even though you wouldn’t have to be if you would have just taken a breath and let it go instead of starting a fight, as usual!”

“We’re in Alabama, Axl! It’s not like I’m gonna get kidnapped--nobody wants to fuck me down here because I’m not related to any of them!”

“Both of you are overreacting! Vivian, you shouldn’t have punched Tommy but I understand why you did! Axl, we’re not gonna get in trouble or kicked off the tour for making sure Nikki’s wife doesn’t get snatched up! Now, can we please go to the hotel so I can get ready and go out and get some chicks of my own because I’m tired of sloppy seconds!” Steven outbursts.

Me and Axl look at each other, knowing we’re arguing over something deeper than just him getting off the bus for me.

"Axl, this is not what it looks like, alright?” Duff camly says as we get covered up.

“Not what it looks like?! Do you think I’m fucking blind, Duff, what the fuck are you thinking?! Oh, wait, sorry, you’re not!” He explodes, his face bright red.

“Axl, can you please just let us explai--”

“--You shut up, Viv! I don’t wanna hear another damn thing from you because you just proved to me you could give a fuck about our band.” He points at me. “And what you--all of us--have busted our fucking balls for is about to be completely undone over some fucking pussy?! Are you fucking me right now?!” He says to Duff.

“It’s not just ‘some pussy’, Axl.” Duff states, getting defensive.

“I swear to fucking God, Duff, if you say ‘I love her’ I’m going to--”

“--I do love her.” Duff interrupts him, and Axl’s throwing one of his rings at the wall, causing it to hit a decorative painting, breaking the glass in the photo frame, causing me to jolt a little.

“Axl, c’mon, now it could be worse.” Izzy steps into the room, sitting down on the bed next to us, rubbing his forehead.

“Could be worse? These guys--her fucking husband, Nikki Sixx, yeah, you fucking remember him--are giving us a fucking shot on this tour. And the first fucking night in…” He trails off, at a loss for words, clenching his jaw and rubbing at his face.

“It wasn’t just tonight.” I start, waiting for Axl to look at me as Duff lets out a ragged breath, waiting for Axl to scream again. “It happened back in September, too.”

“You sound awfully proud of that, Viv, you really do. Cheating on Nikki--”

“--He cheated first, Axl. And then you all hid it from me.” I snap.

“I don’t care if you fucking cheat back, Vivian, but out of all the fucking people there is to get your revenge fuck in with, you choose somebody in our band--who’s friends with the band Nikki’s in. That’s what I don’t fucking like. But hey, if you wanna go down as the whore who wrecked Guns N’ Roses’ shot, then go ahead, but if we get kicked off this tour because of you, Nikki will be the least of your worries.”

“You don’t know what I’ve been through, Axl, you don’t know the living hell I’ve been enduring for three years of my relationship, you don’t know.”

“That’s not my fault when you could’ve left him then. But you stayed and now you’re putting our necks at risk just so you can get your fucking rocks off.”

“He and I are getting divorced anyway so what the hell does it matter?”

“It’s my fucking band!” He insists. “It’s our fucking career, our fucking music, our fucking dream, all on the line over you! And if Nikki finds out, he’s not gonna be going through the technicalities of ‘well, we’re getting divorced anyway so it doesn’t matter’, he’s just gonna think of his wife getting screwed by one of his friends whose band he’s given a chance! That’s why it fucking matters!”

“Hey, this isn’t her fault, man, alright?!” Duff jumps in. “If you wanna blame someone, blame me, it’s my fault anyway! I’m the one who told her how I felt about her when she was vulnerable and shit happened!”

“Fine.” Axl says, exhaling.

“Sorry for fighting.” I mumble.

We finally get back to the hotel in an hour, managing to dodge seeing any of the guys, Fred, or Doc when we get in.

Once Duff and I are back in his room, he’s getting out of my shower while I'm aimlessly flipping through TV channels, trying to find something to watch. 

"Hey, Viv?" I hear him call and I put the remote down and step to him, leaning against the bathroom door, nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips. 

"What's up?" I ask and he looks at me. 

"I forgot my hairbrush." He tells me and I smile a little before stepping to my suitcase to grab mine while he finishes drying off and pulls his boxer shorts on, stepping into the room. "Thanks." He says when I hand it to him and he roughly goes through the strands of his hair, making me cringe. 

"Don't be so mean to your hair, Duff, geez." I comment, taking the brush from him, sitting on the bed. "C'mere." I motion him over and he playfully rolls his eyes and sits in front of me while I stand on my knees at his back and gently brush through his bleached tresses. "You need to start using more conditioner." I tell him.

"That's what Stevie tells me when he sees me struggling with it." He informs me with a chuckle. 

When I'm done, I'm putting my brush back in my bag and getting into bed, under the covers. 

"I'm sorry if this is a let down but I'm too tired to finish what we started earlier." I admit to him as he gets into bed with me and shuts the light off. 

"Tell me about it." He replies, his hand gently playing with the red strands of my hair strewn across my pillow. "And it's not a let down. Just laying in the same bed as you is well over good enough." He assures me and I look at him, smiling. 

I scoot a little closer to him, my arm wrapping around his waist, my lips kissing at his for a brief second as his arm snakes around me. 

"Goodnight, Duff." I say quietly. 

"G'night, Viv." He tells me, and for the first time in months, I sleep through the night, completely. 

I sleep through the entire day, waking up to the feeling of lips kissing up my neck, Duff’s soft hair brushing against my skin and I hum.

“What time is it?” I ask him, stretching, smiling softly as he kisses at my cheek next.

“Five o’clock.” He replies, moving to get off of me, but I wrap my legs around his hips and stop him.

“What time do we have to leave here for the show?”

“It’s an off day, remember?” He reminds me and I raise a brow.

“Oh, it is. I forgot.” I admit.

“Well, you have been asleep the whole day, so.” He brushes some of my hair from my face.

“Wanna get some room service tonight?” I offer. 

"Me and the guys were gonna hangout tonight." He explains. "But Steven already said I needed to bring you." He adds. "So if you wanna come, you can."

"Okay." I nod, rubbing my lips together. "Have you seen Nikki today?"

"He and Tommy were by the pool with Tansy and Sparkie earlier." 

"Is Tommy's cheek okay?"

"It's bruised, but I don't think it'll scar where Steven's ring got him." 

"Ughh, I'm gonna have to apologize to him for that." I mumble, looking at the ceiling. "I just wish him and Nikki would just leave Emi and Mick alone. I mean, you can't help who you like, you know?" 

"Talk to Nikki and Tommy about it." Duff suggests. 

"They'll laugh in my face if I say, 'you can't help who you like'." I state. 

"...Yeah, maybe don't say anything." He agrees after thinking on it for a moment. 

"Yeah." I giggle, kissing his cheek. "Alright, you're free." I release my legs from his waist so he can get up. "I gotta shower and get ready and I'll meet you guys. Who's room do I need to go to?"

"Probably Stevie's." He tells me, getting up. 

"Okay, I'll see you in a few minutes." I reply, getting out of bed and heading to the bathroom. 

He stops me before I can close the bathroom door, about to kiss me. 

"Babe, my breath." I lean back to avoid embarrassment. 

"I don't care." He states, pressing his lips to mine chastely. "See you in a few." He says before walking out. 

Once I get a shower and get clothes on, skipping out on doing my hair and makeup because these guys saw me look like hell for weeks when Nikki and I took those couple months apart, before I head down to Steven's room. 

When I go to knock on the door, it's cracked open already, and I peek inside to see he and the guys are nowhere around. 

"Oh-kay." I mumble, stepping inside to see if there's any sign they'll be back, like room keys, or shoes, or jackets. 

Nothing. 

I turn on my heel and head to the door when something appealing catches my eye. 

A ziplock of brownies. 

My stomach growls, and I realize I haven't eaten since breakfast yesterday morning. 

"Just one won't hurt anything." I say to myself. 

Fifteen minutes and five brownies later, I'm not even hungry for actual dinner. 

I put the bag back where I got it and head downstairs to see Steven, Axl, Izzy, Duff, Slash, Nikki and Tommy at the bar. 

I don't give Tommy or Nikki a second glance before sitting next to Steven and Duff. 

"You drinking?" Izzy asks me, amused I'm sitting at the "big boy" table. 

"No." I reply. 

"You want food?" Duff asks me.

"Nah, I'm full on brownies." I explain and Slash and Steven suddenly stop dead in their tracks, mid-drink, before looking down the bar at each other, and then to me. 

"On what?" Slash asks me, cautiously. 

"She said, 'brownies'." Axl tells him. 

"Oh...from where?" Steven asks me and I furrow my brows. 

"Your room, why?" 

"Oh, okay...um, hey, I think I forgot my rubbers in my room." Steven gets off the barstool. "Slash, you wanna come with me?" 

"Nah, man, I'm--" Steven's pulling him off the stool by the back of his jacket, the two of them walking quickly to the elevator. 

Me and Duff exchange glances and follow after them, Duff's hand keeping the elevator doors from closing at the last second. 

Steven looks pained when we step in with them, eyeing the two of them. 

"What's going on?" Duff asks them, casually, wanting to get to the bottom of it. 

"Nothing." Stevie denies, shaking his head a little. 

"Steven, be honest." I add and he shrugs. 

"Nothing's going on." He says, matter-of-fact.

"Stevie--"

I'm cut off when the doors open on our floor and Steven takes off to his room, getting the door unlocked, heading to the bag of brownies with Slash on his heels. 

"Steven, what's wrong?" I ask when me and Duff catch up. 

"Oh, no." He lets out, slightly panicked. "Oh, no, no. Not good. Oh, God. Oh, I'm gonna be sick." He runs his fingers through this blonde hair. 

"Steven, what is it?" Duff asks him next. 

"She ate, like, five!" Steven explains. 

"I can get you some more brownies, Steven, it's okay." I chuckle. 

Duff looks at the brownies, then and Slash and Steven, then back at the brownies, then at me, then back at the brownies…

"Were these…? Duff asks them, raising his brows. 

"Uh huh." Steven winces out and Duff's eyes widen. 

"A-And she ate five?" 

"Yeah." 

"How much was in them?" 

"Well...there was like ten in each brownie and she had five so--"

"--You gave her fifty milligrams of weed brownies?!" 

"Of what?!" I ask.

"I didn't give them to her, she ate them herself!" Steven points out. 

"Oh, no." I say aloud.

"Oh, no" was right.