Pairing: The Dirt! Tommy Lee x Reader
Description: Imagine where Tommyâs girlfriend develops a bad heroin addiction along with Nikki and she gets a serious wake up call after his OD?
Warning: Mentions of drug use
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âYouâre out of control.â
You watched as Tommy grabbed the needle from your fingers, throwing it angrily into the trash. Your mouth dropped and your face heated, eyes darkening. Tommy knew better than to pick a fight with you when you were in the middle of getting high and still after five years together, he continued to push your buttons.
âDo you know how much that shit costs?â Jumping off the bed was a bad decision. Your arms pushed against the bedroom wall for support even though you wanted to tackle Tommy to the floor.
âDo you think I care?â Tommy retorted, shaking his head. Just because he was in rehab didnât mean you had to clean up your actions. Hell, you didnât even have a problem. You could stop when you wanted. Problem was, you never wanted to stop. The high was too good. Youâd never felt anything like it.
âStop trying to control me.â
âGoddamn it, Y/N, Iâm trying to help you!â Tommyâs eyes clouded with tears. You were too high to care. âYouâre just as bad as Nikki. Every goddamn night I watch you two shoot up. You are slowly killing yourself, Y/N. You talk about getting married and having a family, but will you even be around in a month to experience all of that?â
âShut the fuck up and get out.â A scowl formed on your face as Tommy crossed the line. âMay I remind you that not even two months ago you were snorting coke like your life depended on it?â
Shaking his head, Tommy shoved his fists in his pockets. âYeah, and I was tired of destroying myself. When the hell are you going to wake up?â
You were ready for a fight, but the sound of the television crackling in the background grabbed your attention, Tommyâs too.
ââŠMötley CrĂŒe bassist Nikki Sixx has died in Hollywood this evening of an apparent drug overdose.â
Tommyâs neck snapped over to where the TV hung on the wall. A strangled cry bounced off the walls of the hotel room before he crumpled to the floor.
Motionless, you stared at the television as Nikkiâs picture filled the screen. Instantly you felt tears wet your cheeks. Instead of wiping them away, you opted to comfort Tommy first, but as you placed a shaking hand on his shoulder, he pushed it away and stood up, stumbling.
âHeâs dead,â Tommy whispered, before suddenly fisting his hair. âHeâs fucking gone.â
Lip trembling, you reached toward him. âTommyâ.â
âNo!â He shouted, pointing a finger. âDonât you dare say one word.â
âAn overdose,â Tommy panted, digging his nails into his scalp. He was two seconds from losing his mind. Nikki Sixx, his best friend. Gone. âA fucking overdose.â
âHe shouldnât have taken so much.â Your voice was as quiet as a mouse, but somehow Tommy had still picked up on your words, and he was fuming.
âHe shouldnât have taken any at all!â His voice echoed throughout the room. âAnd neither should you! Heâs dead, Y/N! Gone! And who the fuck knows, you could be next. And if you think Iâm staying around to watch you slowly kill yourself, youâre dead wrong.â
And the only thing that followed Tommy out of the room was the shattering sound of a flower vase being thrown at the door.
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Tommy wanted to go somewhere, anywhere, but his mind wandered back to you. After receiving the news that Nikki had been revived in the ambulance, he sped to the hospital and cried in his best friendâs lap. After making Nikki promise that heâd go to rehab, Tommy hopped in his car and drove to the one other person that needed to hear the same thing.
Pushing open the door, he was surprised to see you in sweats and a hoodie, wandering around the hotel room with a trash bag dragging along the floor. Wetness coated your cheeks as you bent down on the floor, picked up a shard of glass, and disposed of it in the bag. He then watched as you trudged to the bedroom side table, opened the drawer, collected many unused needles, and discarded them as well.
âBaby? What are you doing?â
Sniffling, you tied the trash bag and heaved it over to the front door before sliding down the wall, burying your face in your hands. Tommy joined you on the ground. God, he wanted nothing more than to pull you into his lap, but he knew you needed space.
âNikkiâs alive,â he whispered.
Your head rose. âHow?â
âTwo adrenaline shots to the heart,â Tommy answered, toying with his fingers. âHeâs umâŠgoing to rehab.â
Nodding, you buried your head back into your arms. Sitting next to Tommy, all you felt was shame. You had cleaned the hotel room free of needles and glass, and still you were in pain. âAll I could think about was that it could have been me.â You were sobbing loudly now, tears wetting the sweatshirt. âI donât want to do this anymore, Tommy. I am done letting heroin control me. Itâs turning me into someone Iâm not, someone I hate. I need to fix this.â
Fuck giving you space. Tommy pulled you into his chest, and the sobs came faster, tears flowed harder. âWeâre going to get you help, my girl. I will be right by your side, you know that, right?â
Hiccupping, you placed a hand on Tommyâs cheek. âI donât deserve you, Tommy. You should get out while you can.â
Now that stung. âIâm not going anywhere. Especially not now. You need me. Let me be here for you.â
You didnât have the heart to push him away. He was right. You did need him. Now more than ever.
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