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#for Motley Crue don’t request the dirt
hufflepuffimagines · 11 months
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⋆。°✩ Navegation ✩°。⋆
⋆ About Me  ⋆
I’m Bells, I’m 20 yo and I’m brazilian, I write since I was 11, I can’t say that I do it perfectly but I try. I’m obssessed with 80s rockstar, specially Nikki Sixx and Tommy Lee. I’m a swifitie and I’m going to the Eras Tour in november. I love writing fluffy stories, mostly because it makes me imagine what I’d like my life to be, with that in mind, I can say that I’m trying to shift to my Selection DR, but never made it. I love Barbie, Monster High and these things, I love pink and I can honestly say that I’m a Barbie that is obssessed with rockstars. I don’t have much friends and I’d love to get to know you if you want to talk :)
⋆ You can find my prompt list here (I’ll be adding more to it during the week);
⋆ If you want to be part of my taglist, answer this form;
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(that’s me everyday, not my gif)
IMPORTANT THINGS:
⋆ Character List ⋆
Conrad Fisher (The Summer I Turned Pretty);
Sky of Eraklyon (Fate: The Winx Saga);
Marcus Baker (Ginny and Georgia);
Nikki Sixx (Motley Crue/The Dirt);
Tommy Lee (Motley Crue/The Dirt);
Edward Cullen (Twilight);
Maxon Schreave (The Selection);
Troy Bolton (High School Musical);
Paul Stanley (KISS);
Nate Archibald (Gossip Girl);
Slash (Guns N Roses);
Ricky Bowen (HSMTMTS);
Cedric Diggory (Harry Potter);
80s Rockstars (You can specify which one in your request);
Jeremiah Fisher (The Summer I Turned Pretty) (ONLY BY REQUEST).
⋆ How to Request ⋆
In order to request from a prompt list, you need to specify the sentence number;
You can choose up to three sentences from this list;
Remember to include the character’s full name/fandom for clarification!
You can also request another sentence that is not in this list and headcanons!
• Optional: You can add ‘angst’, ‘fluff’, etc… since some can work different ways.
Exemple: Conrad Fisher, prompt 7, fluff
⋆ Rules for Request ⋆
Send requests any time, i just dont guarantee that i’ll be writing it as soon as it arrives
Send the request on the ask box;
Don’t send vague requests, be specific. I like to work with a lot of details, it makes the story more realistic;
I have the ability to deny and delete any requests I don't want to write;
When I post your request, I will tag you.
✔  I write   ✔
Reader insert (character x reader); Fluff, angst, crossovers, songfics, AUs; Some sensitive subjects (depression, anxiety…); Male x male, female x female or any sort of pairing. love is love, you know; Any disabilities, body types, etc. when specified.
❌  I don’t write ❌  
Smut, cheating, polyship; Anything that goes against representation; Romantic stuff with adult/teen characters;   Character x character* and other people’s OCs; NSFW themes; RPF (real people fiction); Any form of incest.
If you have any questions, DM me, I would be happy to talk to you!
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little drummer girl ~ rook
word count: 1082
request?: yes!
“do you think you could do a fic where reader is tommy lee's daughter and she like meets rook and falls head over heels for him? like she also plays the drums? and they start out as friends but then it escalates to more than that?”
description: in which she’s the daughter of his hero, and she has a massive crush on him
pairing: rook x female!reader
warnings: swearing
masterlist (one, two)
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It was one thing to have the opportunity to meet a living legend, but it was an added bonus to meet his beautiful daughter, too.
Rook was beyond excited as he followed Colson on set of The Dirt. All four members of Motley Crue were there, which had Rook feeling like a nervous kid. Tommy Lee was one of Rook’s idols. The fact that his friend was playing his idol was amazing, and Colson giving him the opportunity to meet his idol meant the world to him.
It was a long day on set and Rook was nearly ready to leave when the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on walked onto set. All eyes were on her as she walked up to the legendary band and greeted them.
“Oh hey, everyone meet my daughter, (Y/N),” Tommy said.
(Y/N) smiled at the people giving her attention. “Hi! Nice to meet you guys. I’m sorry if I interrupted filming.”
“It’s a well needed interruption I think,” Douglas said. “We’ve been shooting this scene for hours now. I think we’re all getting a bit loopy.”
The cast and crew took a quick five minute break before going back to finishing the scene. As they filmed, Rook kept sneaking glances at (Y/N). She was focused on the scene so she never noticed him.
Man, he thought, she’s absolutely gorgeous.
When they finally wrapped for the day and the cast went to get out of costume, Rook decided to make his move to talk to her. Luckily, she was alone so he didn’t have the extra nervousness of her fathering looming around.
(Y/N) was distracted on her phone when he walked up. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out at first. He cleared his throat, drawing (Y/N)’s attention to him.
“Hey,” he said. “I’m Rook, I’m friends with Colson. The, uh, the one playing your dad.”
“Yeah, I know Colson. Dad won’t shut up about him,” (Y/N) said. Her tone was light, so Rook figured it was okay to laugh at the joke. “It’s nice to meet you, Rook.”
They shook hands and just like that, any talking points Rook had were out the window. he tried to think of something - anything - to say, but he was just coming up blank.
“Whatever you wanna say or ask about my dad you can,” (Y/N) said, breaking the awkward silence. “I’ve heard it all, I don’t mind answering anything.”
“I don’t really want to talk about your dad,” Rook said. “I mean, he’s an idol to me and I think he’s great, but I’d like to talk to you about you.”
(Y/N) raised her eyebrows at him. “I don’t hear that often. What do you want to know about me?”
Everything, he wanted to say. I want to know everything about you.
“What’s your favorite color?” he asked.
(Y/N) chuckled. “It really depends on my mood. Today I think I’m yellow.”
“Why yellow?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I think cause it’s sunny.”
Rook laughed. “Okay, good answer. Uh...what was your dream job as a kid?”
“It’s super cliché, but I wanted to be a drummer like my dad. I went to so many of his shows and I just really wanted to be like him. He taught me how to drum and everything.”
“Do you still play?”
“Still? Oh honey, I never stopped.” She looked over at the drum set that had been left on set once they wrapped. She nodded towards it and said, “Come listen.”
Rook wasn’t sure if they were allowed to touch the prop drums, but (Y/N) was already on her way towards them. He looked around to see if any crew members were still lingering around before following her.
She sat down and picked up the discarded drumsticks. She twirled one drumstick around her finger, a mirror image of her dad for a split second.
She began hitting on the drums, playing whatever came to her head and letting it flow through the drumsticks. Rook was impressed, but he didn’t know why. Of course she was great, she was the daughter of a drumming legend.
When she finished, she looked up at Rook with a smile.
“That was amazing,” Rook said.
“Thanks,” she said. “You play? Wait, don’t answer that. You said dad is your idol, obviously you play.”
Rook chuckled. “Yeah, I’m Colson’s drummer actually. I have been since he started basically.”
“Dope!” She stood from the drum set and held out the drumsticks to Rook. “Show me what you got.”
“No, I don’t think I should - ”
“Come on! Don’t be chicken!”
Rook sighed. He wanted to impress (Y/N), so he took the drumsticks and took his place behind the drums. It felt so natural to him to be there that he forgot the concerns about whether or not he should be playing the set drums.
He played one of his prolonged sets like he did on stage. He could see (Y/N)’s smile as she listened to him play, which just made him want to play even longer for her.
(Y/N) started to clap for him after he had finished, only to be interrupted by Colson, now out of his costume, and Tommy.
“Stop fucking with my drums, dog!” Colson called, racing up to Rook and starting to rough house with him. Rook tried to get him to stop without actually saying to stop since he wasn’t about to admit to having a thing on Tommy’s daughter in front of him.
Luckily, the two Lees were still stood there when Colson finally put Rook down.
“I’ll see you tomorrow man,” Tommy said to Colson. “Great work today. Nice to meet you, Rook.”
“You too,” Rook said. “And you, (Y/N).”
(Y/N) smiled at him and turned to her dad. “Hey, you have a pen?”
Without asking any questions, Tommy pulled a pen from his pocket and passed it to (Y/N). She grabbed Rook’s hand and pulled him close. He looked at her in confusion as she started to write something on his palm.
When she pulled away, he saw it was a phone number.
“Call me sometime,” she said and winked.
As (Y/N) and Tommy walked away, Colson threw an arm over his shoulder and said, “Dude!”
Rook was shocked into silence, but he knew he couldn’t wait to get alone so he could call her.
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hangovercurse · 3 years
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Like Father Like Daughter
You meet Colson while visiting your dad, Tommy Lee, on the set of The Dirt and the rest is history.
Request: “Have colson(mgk) meeting tommy Lee’s daughter(reader) on set of the dirt and they fall in love and she meets casie scared that casie won’t like her but casie loves her”
Colson X Reader
Warnings: Cursing
A/N: I wrote this 3 different times because I didn’t like the first two…
Word Count: 2558
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Day One
Stepping out into the New Orleans air for the first time was shocking; the smell of cigarettes, liquor, and swamp mixing around in your nose. But there was something in the air; something electric, exciting; something new. You headed towards the studio where your dad told you he was working for the day. A young woman with an earpiece and a clip board found you at the entrance, a kind smile on her face. “You’re Y/N, right? Tommy’s daughter.”
You nodded, letting her lead you through the maze of sets until you walked into a large room with lights and cameras surrounding an area of floor that was set up to look like the set of one of Motley Crue’s old music videos. Your father was on the set, talking to two men who looked around your age and Jeff Tremaine, the film’s director. You hesitantly walked further into the space, but not past the cameras, to alert him of your presence. This process was made much easier by your Uncle Nikki spotting you from across the room and shouting “Little Lee!”
Your dad, along with the men he was talking to and a few other people in the room, turned to look at you. You smiled shyly, sending a small wave to your dad’s best friend. Your dad beckoned for you to join his conversation, wrapping an arm around your side once you landed next to him. “Hey kiddo, how was your flight?”
You leaned into his shoulder, “it was fine. Longer than I’d expected but, at least I’m here.” You took in the unfamiliar faces of the men surrounding you, eyes lingering on the man with bright blue eyes and a drumstick twirling around in his hands.
“Oh, shit, right. This is my oldest, Y/N.” Your dad introduced you to the guys. “Y/N you know Jeff, this is Douglas,” he motioned towards the guy with long black hair and two painted stripes under his eyes, “he’s playing Nikki in the movie.” You nodded, sending the man a smile which he returned brightly. “And this is Colson, he’s me.” He pointed to the man your eye had caught on, who sent you a wide grin.
“Nice to meet you.” You said, towards all the men, but your eyes still trapped in Colson’s blue ones.
The rest of the day was spent uneventfully. You watched the boys film scenes over the monitor with your dad, him feeding you commentary on what actually happened. Even though you’d heard most of the stories growing up, you let him retell them.
You kept finding your attention drifting towards the man with bright blue eyes, a long black wig, and a set of drumsticks always at hand. Your dad noticed, teasing you every chance he got. “He’s hot, right?”
“Dad!” You huffed.
He chuckled, “Just spitting facts. At least I’m not the one drooling over him like a teenage girl.”
You rolled your eyes, “I am 26 years old: I don’t drool over boys.”
“Oh, well, Colson’s a man.” He elbowed you jokingly.
“You’re annoying.”
“Passed it down to you, kiddo.”
Later on, he’d swear he had nothing to do with it, but you’d always suspected he told Colson about your attraction for the man, as after filming wrapped for the day, Colson asked you to dinner. It was quite honestly the best date you’d been on in a long time, and soon you were agreeing to another the next night.
With Colson everything seemed naturally easy. He was one of the sweetest, funniest guys you’d met, and you wouldn’t have to worry about your dad not liking him. The only problem was that you were only able to spend a week in New Orleans with him.
Day 6
“You live in LA, right?” He asked on the walk back to your apartment, his jacket slung around your shoulders.
You looked up at him with the same smile that had been on your face the entire night, “yeah, why?”
He let out a nervous chuckle, “well, I was hoping that when I get back to LA in a month, we could do this again?”
Your smile turned into a smirk, “are you asking me to wait for you, Colson Baker?”
“When you put it like that I sound like a fuckin dweeb.”
“I thought I was making you sound romantic.” You whined jokingly, hand reaching out to intertwine with his. “But if you were asking, I would say yes.”
“It’s a date.”
“You better call me while you’re gone though.”
He looked down at you with a confused expression, “what do you take me for, an idiot? I am going to be texting and calling you so much you’ll be begging me to stop.”
“Good.”
You swung your hands back in forth the rest of the way home, comfortable silence enveloping you. Colson walked you all the way to the door of your hotel room, leaning against the wall as you unlocked the door. You turned to him before making your way into the room, a sad smile on your face. “I’ll see you in a month?”
He leaned off the wall and moved to stand directly in front of you, hands grazing your hips lightly, hesitantly. “One very long month,” he mumbled, trying to burn your image into his memory.
“Well,” you started, “maybe you should give me something to remember you by.” Colson raised his eyebrow at you, feeling somewhat taken aback by your boldness. But then he remembered who your dad was and was much less surprised.
His grip on your hips tightened as he leaned in, lips colliding with yours. Your arms moved up his arms slowly, landing finally around his neck. The kiss was sweet and slow, something you would have never expected from looking at the man. His lips felt intoxicating, like you would die if you pulled apart. It had only been a single kiss, but you were already addicted.
You were broken out of your trance by cheering from the end of the hallway, a familiar voice calling out “that’s my girl!” Your face turned red as you pulled apart, finding your dad and his fiancé, Brittany, clapping at the end of the hallway.
“You are so fucking embarrassing.” You told him as he approached you and gave Colson a firm pat on the shoulders.
“It could be worse. If it was anyone else, I probably would’ve kicked his ass for even thinking about kissing you.” Tommy said, an innocent smile on his face. “But Colson, I will kill you if you fuck this up.”
The blond boy gave him a small salute, “yes sir.”
Day 34
Your text tone rang from your phone as you sat on your couch, watching TV.
Colson:
Be ready in 45
Even though you’d spent the last 4 weeks facetiming him, you weren’t fully convinced that Colson would keep good on his promise to see you again once he got back in town. You’d been pretty convinced he wouldn’t as the days dragged on with no mention of his return or a reunion. But here he was, telling you to be ready for something.
You texted him back
Wait… are you serious?
When he responded with a
Flight just landed, yes I’m serious.
You squealed, rushing around the house to get ready. The simple thought of seeing him in person, of hopefully tasting his intoxicating lips again, made your heart flutter. And then he was knocking on your door. When you opened it to see him standing there, a single rose in his hand and a nervous smile on his face, you wanted to jump into his arms.
He was a gentleman the entire night, opening your door for you, pulling out your chair, complimenting you. Everything just felt so perfect. And when he walked you up to your door and kissed you goodnight, you swooned.
Day 50
You were sat on his couch, your back resting against his chest as some movie played on the TV. One of his hands was wrapped around your waist, the other intertwined with your own. You’d been sitting in relative silence for a while, save for the noise from the TV.
But that was broken when Colson spoke softly, “I know this is lame but like, I gotta make sure. You’re my girlfriend, right?”
You chuckled lightly at his lame attempt to ask you to be his girlfriend. “No, I’ve just been going out on dates with you and not talking to anyone else for shits and giggles.”
He let out a breath of air from his nose humorously, “Okay cool.”
“That was a yes, by the way.” You turned your head and leaned up to press a soft, strained kiss to his lips.
“Cool.”
Day 96
You were half asleep, wrapped up in Colson’s arms on his bed. Your head rested on his chest, eyes struggling to stay open. Colson was just as tired of you were, his words slowing when he said, “I think I’m in love with you.”
You mumbled out a lazy “really?” too tired to be shocked at the gravity of what he was saying. Truthfully, you weren’t all that surprise at the admission, as you had been looking for the right way to express the same sentiment.
“Yeah. I’m pretty fuckin’ in love with you.”
“Sweet” You mumbled, pressing a small kiss to his bare chest.
His chest shook with a silent giggle, “Cool.”
“I love you too.” You said, snuggling closer into him.
“Sweet.”
”Cool.”
Day 102
You were making pancakes at your stove, Colson’s arms wrapped around you from behind. He’d been staying the night at your house for almost a week, simulating the feeling of living with you. You couldn’t admit that the thought wasn’t attractive, having him around almost all the time was amazing and something you were afraid of ending.
“Hey, could I ask you something?” He mumbled as you watched the pancakes cook. You hummed a response and he continued, “my daughter’s gonna be in town next week. I was hoping you’d meet her.”
You bit your lip, a grin growing on your face. You knew meeting Casie was a big deal to Colson, he had told you many times how important she was to him. He didn’t let her meet just anyone in his life. “Yeah, I’d love that.”
But then that thought crossed through your mind; the one that would raise your anxiety levels for the next seven days. What if Casie doesn’t like me?
If Casie didn’t like you, things with you and Colson would be over. He didn’t even have to tell you that, you just knew. And you couldn’t blame him; she’s the most important person in his life. But you loved Colson, and you wanted him to be around for a while. So, if you made a bad first impression, everything would crumble down.
And that’s exactly what you told him a few days later while you lay in bed, Ferris Bueller playing in the background as you traced the outlines of his tattoos.
Day 106
“What if Casie doesn’t like me?”
“Babe, she’s nine years old. She’ll get over it.” He kissed the top of your head lightly, fingers running up and down your spine.
“Yeah, but what if she doesn’t? I know you won’t wanna be with me if she doesn’t approve. And I don’t blame you. I don’t want to be with you if she doesn’t want me to be.”
He grabbed your chin, pulling you to look at him, “you worrying right now is exactly the reason she’s gonna love you and the reason why I already do.” He kissed you softly, your eyes fluttering closed. He still manages to take your breath away.
“I love you too,” you whispered, “I’m just scared of losing you.”
He chuckled, “Casie’s tough, I won’t lie, but she’s going to see just how amazing you are and fall right in love with you. And, if you want extra brownie points, you should let her help you bake something.”
“Was that accidental or were you trying to make a really bad pun?”
He pressed another kiss to your lips, chuckling slightly, “they don’t call me comedy genius for nothing, babe.”
“No one calls you that.”
Day 109
Colson had decided it would be best for you and Casie to meet at his house, mostly because he hated taking Casie out in LA. He’d ordered dinner to be delivered and told you he’d stocked up on baking supplies for you and Casie. Now all you had to do was show up.
He answered the door, pulling you in for a long kiss as soon as he saw you. “I love you.” He whispered, trying to ease your nerves. You spoke the words back to him, letting him take your hand and lead you inside. “Hey, Case, there’s someone I want you to meet.”
You’d seen Casie through pictures that Colson had shown you or from around the house, but she seemed so much prettier in person. You could tell by the way she moved that she took after her father, just like people always said about you. “I’m Y/N.” You said shyly, a soft smile on your face.
Casie beamed up at you, “I’m Casie. Dad talks about you a lot.”
You chuckled, turning to him, “he does?”
She nodded, “he thinks you’re great.”
“I think he’s pretty great too.” He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. “He tells me about you all the time.”
“Really?”
You smiled at her excitement, “heck yeah. I was so scared to meet you because of how cool he makes you sound.”
The three of you ate dinner, chatting conversation. You were less nervous than before; Casie seeming to like you, but you were still on edge. When you finished, Colson announced, “I happen to know that two of the best cookie makers in California are sitting at this table and I am not one of them.” He looked between you and Casie, a smile on his face. “So, I believe cookies are in order.”
You raised an eyebrow at him, an amused smile on your face. “You’re helping us.”
Casie nodded, “every master chef needs an assistant.”
“She speaks truth.”
Colson pouted at both of you, “I was gonna be the judge.”
Casie giggled, getting up from the table and dragging her dad by the arm to the kitchen. “Too bad!”
You stayed at the table, picking up dishes and taking them to the sink before joining the other two at the counter in front of a large bowl and a variety of ingredients. Colson was currently holding a bag of chocolate chips over Casie’s head as she jumped to reach it, failing miserably. “Y/N he won’t give me the chocolate chips.” She whined.
You gave Colson a stern look, “hand them over, noodle boy.” You held out your hand and he placed the bag into your palm, a pout on his face. Casie laughed, repeating the phrase “noodle boy” to herself as you handed her the bag.
“So, are you two just gonna team up against me the whole night?” He asked, looking between you two.
Casie and you made eye contact, firmly shaking your heads, “absolutely” you said at the same time.
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mdittyz123 · 4 years
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Motley Crue/The Dirt Fics
Nikki Sixx
-Animal in Me
Aria is a journalist for Rolling Stone magazine. She’s followed and hung out with countless bands. But what happens when she follows Motley Crue for one month for her latest piece? #series #ongoing #complicated relationship #ozzy osbourne
-Rebel Love Song
Nikki and Corey have been friends since they were kids. Back than Nikki Sixx was just simply Frankie to Corey. He was just the boy next door with a troubled past and a messed up present and future unknown. Corey was just the ideal girl next door, a girl Nikki couldn’t believe would actually give him the time of day. Things changed when Nikki took off without a goodbye or even a note. It would be years later before the two would be reunited. And when they are the girl next door isn’t exactly the girl next door anymore. Things happened and she’s changed. But will she still be the perfect girl in Nikki’s eyes or will she just be another girl in the crowd? #series #ongoing #childhood friends #friends to lovers
*-Afraid  Summary: You meet Sikki Nixx, but then you meet Nikki Sixx and your world is forever altered. #dad!nikki #mom!reader #pregnancy #baby #godfather!tommy #meet in rehab 
-Best Friends  Summary: Omg colson and Dougie getting close to Nikki’s teen daughter (in a big brother way) #the dirt cast #the dirt movie filming #dad!nikki #daughter!reader #brothers in all but blood #brother figure!douglas #brother figure!mgk/colson baker #protective
-Twins  Summary: Can I request a lil something that Nikki is dating a girl but she’s an identical twin and Nikki can never tell them apart? (Maybe a lil smut;) #twin!reader #messing with nikki #headcanon
-Support  Summary: can you do a Headcanon about Nikki’s daughter having a baby? #single mom!reader #grandpa!nikki #daughter!reader #baby #grandaby #headcanon
-Grounded  Summary: Headcanon for being Nikki’s teenage daughter today? & Headcanons for Nikki’s teen daughter being super close to “auntie Brit” and “Uncle Tom”?? #dad!nikki #daughter!reader #uncle!tommy #headcanon
-Tommy's Sister  Summary: Tommy’s sister getting with Nikki. #brother!tommy #sister!reader
-You.  Prompt:  “you’ve shown me what love can feel like.” 
-I'll Kick His Ass  When Izzy Stradlin assaults Vince Neil's wife Sharise, things heat up between the Crue and Guns N' Roses, especially since the reader is Axl Rose's ex girlfriend #brother!vince #sister!reader #guns n roses #violence against females from guns n roses #memories #protective!nikki #protective!vince #the dirt movie filming
*-Shellshock  Request:  1)Hey I saw you did a Nikki imagine that was based on a queen song ,, I was wondering if I could request that the reader is related to one of the members of queen and Nikki finds out and gets star struck 😂 sorry this is a weird request lol. 2)May I request a oneshot where reader is dating Nikki Sixx and she is best friends with Queen, especially Freddie, one day Queen makes a suprise visit? I am curious about the reactions of Motley Crue. I am rambling at this point but I would be really happy if you can write something like this🧡 #queen #crossover #queen x reader platonic #reader is queen's friend and introduces them to motley crue
-Being Ozzy Osbourne’s Daughter and Dating Nikki Sixx (Headcanon)  #headcanon # dad!ozzy #daughter!reader #secret relationship
-Nikki Meets His Child Who Was Born During The Tour  #headcanon #dad!nikki #mom!reader #pregnancy #baby
-The Love of a Brother  Description: Nikki is your older brother and he comforts you when the family past comes back to haunt you #brother!niki #sister!reader
-Protective  Can I request an imagine please with Nikki Sixx?? (been loving the dirt lately lol) i don’t a have personal preference on what it should be on. Maybe where you get hit on at a show and Nikki isn’t very happy and calls the dude out? #protective!nikki
-Headcanon for Being Nikki Sixx's Daughter  #headcanon #dad!nikki #daughter!reader
Tommy Lee
-Tommy Lee Dating Someone Who Loves Cats (Headcanon)  #headcanon
-Brother's Best Friend  Summary: Vince is your brother and he forces you to go to one of his shows. You catch Tommy’s eye and he offers to take you home when you start begging Vince to let you leave. You end up hanging with Tommy and end up liking him much more than just the drummer for your brother’s band. #brother!vince #sister!reader
-Drummer  #series #tommy lee x reader #brother!mick #sister!reader #marriage #jealosy 
-Little Drummer Boy  Description: “ I’d love to read a Dad!Tommy taking his and Reader’s kid shopping for their first little drum kit.” #dad!tommy #mom!reader #son #little drummer
-No More Secrets  Request:  can you do a fic where the reader is nikki’s sister and falls in love with tommy? nikki gets upset but everything works out in the end? thanks ✨ #brother!nikki #sister!reader #secret relationship  
-Daddy's Girl  Description: You and Tommy have a 3 year old, but you’re not together. The baby takes a liking to your new boyfriend and Tommy is jealous/hurt because he feels like he misses out on his daughter’s life. #Part 1 of 2 #dad!tommy #mom!reader#child  #angst with a happy ending 
-Headcannons for being Tommy's daughter?  #headcanon #dad!tommy #daughter!reader
-My Brother's in the Band  Summary: Your brother finds you in a compromising position with one of his bandmates #brother!mick #sister!reader
-Get a Room  You and tommy are best friends and you flirt constantly and everyone’s trying to get you two together lmao #series #part 1 of 6 #best friends to lovers  
-The No Fun Tour  SUMMARY // You’ve been working as a roadie for Motley Crue for a number of years because of your interest in the music business and family connections with Doc.  The boys are touring with Ozzy and things are looking promising for them, but if they mess up one more hotel room they’re in big trouble with Elektra Records. Doc has assigned you to watch Tommy for the night, and while the boys are like second family to you, you realize you may actually have more feelings for the drummer than you originally thought. #series #part 1 of 17 #roadie!reader #reader is motley crue's assistant #secret relationship
Vince Neil
-My Kinda Lover  song inspiration: My Kinda Lover by Billy Squier #fluff
-Newlyweds No More  #brother!mick #sister!reader #wedding night #cheating #car accident #agnst 
-Hold On Your Life  Reader is pregnant with Vince’s baby and they’ve been together for a couple of years and Vince is off on tour while she’s staying home and he accidentally overdoses and when he wakes up he’s just worried about his girl and his baby
-Dancer  Summary: You never thought that you would meet the love of your life in the strip club you worked at. #stripper!reader #single mom!reader #step dad!vince #child
-Vince Imagine                                                                                             #vince neil x reader
-The End or the Beginning  Could you please do a imagine where the reader is Razzle’s sister and has a friends with benefits relationship with Vince. The night of the car accident she was in the car with them and survived alongside Vince which leads them to get closer and end up admitting they have feelings for one another? #brother!razzle #sister!reader #angst #car accident 
-Drunk Confessions  Request: Your Tommy Lee’s sister and Vince falls in love with you #brother!tommy #sister!reader
-Me and You Plus Two  Description: You and Vince have twins #dad!vince #mom!reader #birth #twins #babies 
-A Girl  Summary: When Vince finds out he’s going to be having a little girl he doubts his ability to raise a young woman into adulthood. #dad!vince #mom!reader #pregnancy 
-Being Vince Neil’s Identical Twin Brother (Headcanon)  #headcanon #twin!vince
-Persephone  Description: Reader is a famous singer and has an innocent image but when she turns 18 the label wants to up her sex appeal so her and Vince’s record label have them fake date—the media nicknames them as Hollywood’s Hades and Persephone. #headcanon #singer!reader #fake relationship #becomes real
-Try                                                                                                       Description: Reader is Tommy’s sister and she’s best friends with Mick and falls for Vince and she’s really obvious about it but only Mick sees it and teases her about it #brother!tommy #sister!reader #best friend!mick 
-One Chance  Vince falling for a girl and her not realizing it, this one is for you! #cousin!mick #cousin!reader #oblivious!reader
-Lights  SUMMARY: A road trip for more booze doesn’t end well with a drunk Vince driving and Razzle and Y/N tagging along. #character death #car accident 
-Headcanon for Being Vince's daughter after Skylar  #headcanon #dad!vince #daughter!reader
*-Borrowing  #brother!tommy #sister!reader #continue the family name
-My Kinda Lover  Vince being shy around a girl, getting nervous and messing up a show when she’s there #before motley crue was a band
Mics.
-Trouble Summary: I’d like to request a Nikki Sixx, where the reader is a good friend of him, and just as crazy and they party a lot and she always comes up with stupid ideas such as throwing a tv out of the window, or lighting up mick’s room and they are all just crazy and do a lot of crazy and stupid things? So she is kind of a part of the Terror Twins? #terror twins plus one
-Preference #12 - Motley Meets The Baby  #mick mars x reader #dad!mick #mom!reader #nikki sixx x reader #dad!nikki #mom!reader #tommy lee x reader #dad!tommy #mom!reader #vince neil x reader #dad!vince #mom!reader #new baby
Douglas Booth
-Head-canons for Nikki’s daughter meeting Douglas Booth or MGK and being like O_O shit he’s hot 😂  #headcanon #dad!nikki #daughter!reader #the dirt movie filming
-Makeup Artist  Summary: Omg Nikki’s teen daughter helping with Dougie’s makeup for the movie #dad!nikki #daughter!reader #makeup artist!reader #the dirt movie filming
-Having a Baby with Douglas Booth (Headcanon)                           #headcanon #dad!douglas #mom!rader #pregnancy #baby
-It Just Sort of Happened (Douglas Booth Imagine)  #the dirt movie filming #dad!tommy #daughter!reader
Machine Gun Kelly/Colson Baker 
-Head-canons for Nikki’s daughter meeting Douglas Booth or MGK and being like O_O shit he’s hot 😂  #headcanon #dad!nikki #daughter!reader #the dirt movie filming
-Being Pete Davidson’s Sister and Dating Machine Gun Kelly (Headcanon) #headcanon #brother!pete #sister!reader
-Having a Baby with Machine Gun Kelly/Colson Baker (Headcanon)  #part 1 of 2 #headcanon #dad!mgk/colson #mom!reader #pregnancy #baby
-Being Roger Taylor’s Daughter and Dating Machine Gun Kelly (Headcanon)  #headcanon #queen #crossover #dad!roger taylor #daughter!reader #drummer!reader
Daniel Webber
-Winning  Summary: Can we have more on Nikki’s daughter and Daniel’s relationship? #dad!nikki #daughter!reader #the dirt movie filming 
-On Set  Summary: Being Nikki’s oldest daughter and dating Daniel Webber from the Dirt. While they’re filming but you come to see Nikki, Tommy, and when Mick and Vince was on set helping. #headcanon #the dirt movie filming #dad!nikki #daughter!reader #secret relationship
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vincess-princess · 3 years
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Valentine’s Special
a belated present from me for the Valentine’s day and at the same time a completed request for @cometsnix <3 sorry for making you wait so long, dude, i hope you like it :)
Fandom: Motley Crue Rating: T Pairing: Mick Mars\Nikki Sixx Word count: 1990 Warnings: lovestruck Nikki and an unhealthy obsession with blue eyes Summary: What do you do when you have no money and a local bar sells Valentine’s specials at a discount? Right, you and your friend pretend to be a couple.  Author’s note: basically a little silly ficlet :) haven’t really written fluff for a long time, so this one was fun to do. 
“Ew,” Nikki kicked a cardboard heart that was displayed at the entrance of the bar. “The most stupid holiday in existence. Who even came up with that bullshit?”
“Some gay priest or something,” Vince shrugged. “Dunno, man, girls like it. I tell you, your chances of hooking up on Valentines are way higher than usual. If you know how to act, of course.”
“For you, maybe,” Nikki waved his hand. “But I’m not gonna pretend to be romantic and all that stuff just for a hook-up. They gotta accept the real me, you see?”
“Nobody wants the real you, dude,” Vince laughed. “Especially girls. Anyway, are we entering, or?...”
“I’m in if girls are in,” Tommy smiled widely.
“That’s my boy,” Vince patted his shoulder. Nikki wanted to laugh at how he had to rise on his tiptoes to do that, but then he noticed Mick, who was following them silently, as he always did. He was looking at the cardboard heart lying in the dirt by the bar door. His face was devoid of emotion, but his eyes glinted strangely in the dim light of the bar’s neon sign.
Then he raised his head and looked straight at Nikki, and Nikki felt goosebumps running down his back. He quickly picked up the cardboard heart and put it back in its place.
“What, is our badass Nikki Sixx afraid of getting caught?” Vince, of course, had to comment, but Nikki didn’t even hear him. He turned away from Mick and pushed the door, trying to shake off the strange feeling a second of eye contact with Mick had given him.
The bar was almost full, mostly with couples whispering to each other and laughing too loudly at each other’s jokes. Vince spotted a couple of girls sitting at the bar and eyeing every man who entered, touched Tommy by the shoulder and nodded at them. Tommy’s face lit up. The girls weren’t even that pretty, but those two could fuck whatever moved and what didn’t move they would move themselves and fuck as well.
“Pick a table, guys,” Vince said to Nikki and, pulled by Tommy, headed to the bar, not looking back even once.
Mick and Nikki looked at each other and rolled their eyes in unison.
“I swear, they only think about one thing,” Mick murmured. “Let’s go find a table.” He turned around and looked over the bar. The only free places were either at the counter or at little tables for two. Damn it.
“Looks like someone will have to move,” Nikki said mischievously, nodding at the closest booth. The couple inside was in the middle of a passionate kiss.
Mick raised an eyebrow, and Nikki immediately felt like an idiot. Mick was very good at that.
“They can kiss perfectly well at a table for two!” he began, but Mick stopped him with a wave of a hand.
“Go on, hero,” he only said, but Nikki could see a smile in the corners of his mouth. Something warm as though spilled into his chest. Mick didn’t smile that often.
The couple didn’t stop kissing even as he appeared at the table, only letting each other go when he grabbed the guy’s shoulder. “Hey, lovebirds, time to move. Me and my friends need a table.”
The girl looked at him misty-eyed, probably still processing the kiss. The guy, though, understood everything perfectly well and began to go red with anger. Nikki couldn’t measure his height while the guy was sitting, but his shoulders were way wider than his own.
“We were here first!” the dude began.
“Yeah, yeah, heard that,” Nikki interrupted him. In these situations, being outrageously impudent was sometimes the best choice. Sometimes. “You two can move to that table ri-i-ght there,” he pointed at a small table in the corner with dirty plates still on it. “Atmosphere, privacy, music, it’s perfect! Come on, come on,” Nikki pulled the guy out of the booth by the shoulder. For a second he thought that the couple would actually move to that table, but then the guy flexed his muscles threateningly and grabbed Nikki by the collar of his jacket. Well, damn, this bar surely could use a little shake-up today.
Nikki’s back slammed against the wall. The girl screamed “Jordan!” behind their backs. The guy let go of one side of Nikki’s collar, but only to clench his hand into a fist, which then would certainly collide with Nikki’s nose.
But then a thin palm with long, delicate fingers landed on Jordan’s arm and grasped it firmly, holding it in place.
“Hold your horses, Jordan,” Mick said calmly. He looked absolutely relaxed, and only Nikki and the guy himself could notice how deep those fingers dug into his skin. “Be considerate for once in your life and move to that goddamn table.”
Jordan slowly turned his head and looked Mick in the eye, and Nikki realized with a shudder that Mick was way shorter and slimmer than the guy. Why did he even interfere, knowing full well he wouldn’t be able to fight him off since Nikki, with his six-feet height plus four-inch heels wasn’t intimidating enough for him?
Nikki could handle getting beaten, it wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last, but he somehow really didn’t want Mick to get hurt because of him.
Seconds passed. Jordan looked at Mick and Mick looked at Jordan, with his icy blue eyes that always left Nikki slightly uncomfortable, and Nikki kept expecting Jordan to punch Mick and the fight to begin. He could already feel his fists clenching at the thought of the guy hitting Mick, and the goosebumps of anticipation running down his neck and back.
Then Jordan’s grip on his collar weakened.
“Okay,” he said, and Nikki only now realized he was holding his breath. Jordan released him and moved to the table in the corner, his girl following him unconfidently and repeatedly shooting glances at Mick and Nikki.
“Wow,” Nikki mumbled, turning to Mick. “How’d you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Well, calmed him down like that,” Nikki felt stupid under Mick’s unblinking gaze. “I thought he was gonna break my nose for sure.”
“Not everything has to be solved with violence, Sixx,” Mick waved his hand. “Now, are you waiting for someone else to occupy that hard-earned table?”
“Yeah, sure,” Nikki hurried to the table probably way faster than was necessary, but he wasn’t ready to undergo something similar again for a damn table. Though if Mick was going to save his ass again… oh, nevermind, he cut himself off. He was perfectly capable of defending himself. Even from guys like Jordan.
Mick followed him, though maybe with more dignity, and they finally settled in the booth, sitting next to each other on a soft couch. An almost irresistible urge to move closer to Mick washed over Nikki, the urge to feel the warmth of his arm against his own. But then Mick would probably look at him with his staggeringly blue eyes full of contempt, and say quietly but very distinctly “Knock it off, Sixx”, and everything would be ruined. So Nikki stayed in his place, almost afraid to even turn his head to look at Mick.
“Whatcha waiting for?” Mick reached out to take a menu from the other side of the table. “Are we gonna eat today or not? I’m starving.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Nikki laughed nervously and took a menu handed to him by Mick. Their fingers brushed, and Nikki almost had a heart attack. He opened the menu on a random page and pretended to read the description of the dish.
What the hell this goddamn holiday was doing to him?
“Hm, Valentine’s special?” Mick said, moving closer to look into the menu. Turned out the page Nikki randomly opened had a special offer for couples on the Valentine’s day – fifty percent off for the second dish if those ordering it were a couple. “Look, it’s pretty cheap.”
“Yeah,” Nikki rasped. “Only we’re not, hm, a couple, y’know. Also we’re both dudes, just saying. They won’t believe us.”
“Well, if you keep being such a sissy, you can as well pass for a girl,” Mick snickered, and this was something Nikki absolutely couldn’t handle. He – a sissy? Fucking watch me.
“Hey!” he waved to the waitress to attract her attention. She was a good-looking girl, but now Nikki didn’t have time for that. As she approached, a notebook in hand, Nikki pointed at the Valentine’s special. “Could we have this, please?”
“Um,” the waitress stammered, “this is only for couples.”
“Yeah, we know,” Nikki nodded. “We are one.”
“You’re trying to prank me, aren’t you?” the waitress laughed nervously. “Sorry, guys, but we don’t give out special offers to anyone who asks.”
“But we’re not ‘anyone’,” Nikki insisted. Mick watched him from the side with those piercing blue eyes, and Nikki could practically feel his heavy gaze on his skin. “We’re a couple. We deserve to get the special offer. Or are you being homophobic? Do you want your establishment to be claimed as such?”
“What? No, no!” the waitress waved her hand, her cheeks flushed. Nikki even felt pity for her. But he needed to prove a point. “But we can’t just give it to you without- without proof-“
“Oh, you need proof?” Mick suddenly said. Nikki turned to him and almost flinched: Mick’s face was so close to his he could see his nostrils moving with every breath he took. “You’ll get it. Come here.”
He wrapped his arm around Nikki’s waist and pulled him closer.
And then he kissed him.
It lasted only a few seconds, a mere brush of their lips together. It was endless, infinite, and at the same time too quick, and over too soon. Mick’s lips were warm and dry, and his hand on Nikki’s waist firm and confident. Nikki wanted to dissolve into his arms, merge into his body, become one with him, breathe his air and- wait, that was getting a little weird.
Mick broke the kiss, and Nikki felt like a part of him had been taken away with it. He blinked a few times, still trying to process what happened.
“See?” he heard Mick’s voice as though from a distance. “Was it enough proof for you?”
“Yes, yes!” the waitress hurried to write the order down in her notebook. “Anything else?”
“Four beers, please,” Mick said, and he was talking so calmly, so casually, like a life-changing event hadn’t just happened to him. Maybe it really didn’t. Maybe he kissed his friends regularly, Nikki just didn’t notice-
“Hey,” Mick turned to him, “are you alright? Was that okay?”
“Er,” Nikki raised his gaze and looked Mick straight in the eyes. How was he supposed to say that was the best thing that happened to him in his entire life? “No, no, it- it was okay, don’t worry. Maybe we could- we could- do it again? Maybe some other bar has Valentine’s specials…”
“Maybe,” a little smile appeared in the corners of Mick’s mouth. “I wouldn’t mind, actually.”
“Me too,” Nikki murmured. His hand, acting on his own, found Mick’s and entwined their fingers. With every second passing Nikki expected Mick to move his hand away, but Mick never did.
They released each other’s hands only when Tommy and Vince came back to their table and plopped down on the other side of it. The girls at the bar looked at them with dreamy eyes.
“They aren’t supermodels, of course,” Vince nodded at them, totally oblivious to the blush that covered both Nikki’s and Mick’s cheeks, and the fact that they were sitting way too close to each other than friends usually do, “but could use some company, if you know what I mean.”
“I’ll pass,” Mick shook his head. His hair tickled Nikki’s cheek.
Nikki shot Mick a quick glance and said, “Me too.”
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julessworldd · 4 years
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 This turned out longer than I expected it to, it’s 4 pages long. I was really into writing this so I’m gonna call a fic. Hope you enjoy anon. 
warnings: cussing, teasing, smut(my first time posting smut so sorry if it sucks), should be it, sorry if I missed any other warnings, grammar errors, etc. 
This was requested by anon for a prompt for Izzy.. Keep sending prompts in, I’m having a good time writing for everyone. (Guns N’ Roses, Motley Crue/The dirt, Kelly Nickels, I can try to do other rockstars. Just give me time to figure them out so I can get them down pat)
Second prompt list 1- “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it” 5- “Well. Yell, scream, say something. Anything”
I had known Izzy since  he walked in, soaking wet, little pissy that L.A decided to downpour on his arrival. He asked for a room at my family’s motel outside Huntington Beach. Izzy and I were a year apart and had so much in common, we became fast friends quickly. I’d even met Axl on his arrival to L.A, Axl was lucky no downpour, but sorta cold. I watched them both change bands like girls change clothes for date with their crush. Finally, they formed Guns N’ Roses, took the strip by storm and took over the world as well. 
Izzy was my best friend, I always told him everything that was going on with me, he even taught me how to play guitar one night, shared a bed when the hotel messed up my room. Management forgot to add another room besides the band and their manager. Izzy got my bags and walked to his room, claiming he was beat and needed sleep. 
Izzy and I’s relationship had changed after he broke up with Angela. He stayed at my place for days, shared my bed, food, shower whenever he liked. It was fun until he started screaming at me for his and Angela’s break up. This lead up to where we had angry/rebound sex in my shower and bedroom. That had been a few months, Izzy asked if we could do the friends with benefits gig. Sure why not. I told him, Izzy was very skilled and caring in bed. It wasn’t a loss for getting screwed occasionally. We establish ground rules typical for friends with benefits: No feelings, can date whoever no problem, no getting mushy for each other. Rules I could sorta follow along, after doing this for 6months, I started catching feels, asking if he could stay. My excuse was my roommate was at her boyfriends or was working late at the bar down the street. Our apartment was sorta shady so I wanted some protection for the night. 
Slash invited me out with the band after a show in town, I happily accepted wanting to see the other boys. Duff, his fiance, Steven, Axl were at the bar waiting for drinks. Izzy and Slash were at a table, Slash had a girl perched on his arm. “Hey guys”, I smiled. Slash moved him and his date so i could sit, “Hey Y/n, this is Chrissy” “Hi Chrissy, Slash treating you well?”, I smirked. “Yeah, he’s cool”, She took a sip of her cocktail. “Hey Y/n, you just get here?”, Duff asked. “Hi Duff, I did”, I smiled at the tall blonde. Izzy was quiet as usual, smoking a pack away, sipping on his whiskey filled drink.  Duff’s fiance was telling part of the table about her and brother’s taking their dad’s boat out one day growing up. She always had wild stories to tell from her childhood in Colorado, normally I would have been interested. Izzy was on my mind, I was hoping he would get the hint what I wanted to do. I looked before doing this, they were all inclined to her story, Duff stared at her with adoration in his eyes, a smile to match. 
“Iz”, I whispered in his ear, gripping his inner thigh. 
“You’re not wasting any time tonight”, Izzy grumbled. “I’m trying to get fucked, been a while”, I bit his ear lob. Izzy groaned, “Keep teasing me and you won’t get to cum, princess”, Izzy spat back. “I’m sorry, Izzy”, I whined, making Izzy smirk. 
“Go to the bathroom, I’ll meet you in five minutes. Wait for me, okay?”, Izzy’s breath on my neck. “Hey Iz, can you let me out please?”, I asked, making it seem normal. Izzy stood to the side of the booth as I walked to the bathroom. Five minutes later, Izzy let himself in and locked the door before turning to me. “Thought Steven would never shut up about what he and Duff did two days before. Sorry, babe”, Izzy looked at his watch. “You’re on time, Iz”, I giggled. 
Soon enough Izzy held me against the wall, thrusting into me, attacking my neck with his teeth. “Fuck, Izzy. Right there”, I whined. “You can beg better than that, baby”, Izzy whispered in my ear. I rolled my eyes, he’s in his dominant mood tonight. “Okay, guess we’re done here”, Izzy started to pull out. “Please don’t! I need you so fucking bad, Izzy. Please fuck me, you’re the only one can make me cum this hard.”, I whined, grabbing his shoulders. “Now that’s better, baby”, Izzy slammed himself back in, making me moan. I felt the familiar tighten in my stomach as Izzy slammed into my g-spot. Clenching around him, nails  ripping his back, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum”, I let a breathy moan out. Izzy reached between us and started to rub my clit. “You earn it, let go, princess” I rolled my eyes again, “Mhm fuck” Izzy noticed that I needed an extra push, “Come on, Y/n. You can cum, Kitten come on” Hearing him call me ‘Kitten’ in his deep mid-western voice gave the extra help I needed. “Oh fuck, fuck, Izzy”, I screamed feeling myself release on his cock. Izzy rode out mine and his high, before pulling out.  “That was hot. You good?”He asked. I nodded, “Just a sec”, I said, holding his shoulders feeling the aftershock. Izzy and I got fixed, he made me leave first. I headed to the bar for a drink. “How long have you and Izzy been screwing?”, Axl asked, making me jump. “Why do you care?”,  I asked, sitting on the bar stool. “You and him were gone for a good thirty, forty minutes. Your legs are shaking slightly.”, Axl smirked, trying to interrogate me. “Still don’t mean I fucked Izzy, could be another guy for all you know”, I said. “I didn't graduate high school, but I’m no fucking idoit”, Axl said, getting close to my lips. “Again why do you care so goddamn much anyways, Axl. You’ve never cared who Izzy is fucking before”, I laid my hand on his chest.  “Cause the whole time I’ve been here with you, Izzy’s been shooting daggers at me from behind your back, babe.”, Axl grinned, making me turn slightly to see Izzy standing there with a pissed off look on his face. 
After the conversation with Axl, I left to go home forgetting the drink. Izzy watched me exit the bar, behind Duff and his fiance. “Night Y/n”, Duff said. “Night Duff, be careful”, I said walking down the strip. “Will do, you do the same”, Duff yelled. Finally made it back, moans filled the shitty apartment. Tiffany was home with her boyfriend. I took off my tight black leather dress, kicking heels off, earrings left on the dresser. “Sure, I’ll call you, Andrew”, I heard Tiffany say. ‘Andrew?’ her boyfriend’s name was Greg, not my business but okay Tif. “Y/n, company”, Tiffany yelled for the front door. It was 4am, who the hell was here for me.  “Tiffany are you high? Oh hey Izzy”, I asked, walking into the living room. “Can we talk, Y/n?”, Izzy asked, shutting the door. “Uh Tif”, I looked at the blond. “Night Y/n”, Tiffany said, skipping back to her room. “What’s up?”, I asked. 
“We gotta stop this, I’m in love with you”, Izzy blurted out. “Excuse me?”, I was stunned, maybe Axl was right? “Iz, we established no falling in love. You broke your own rule”, I said. “I know that, but seeing Axl talking to you that close, got me jealous. He’s married, he needs to back off damn it”, Izzy stomped his foot like a toddler. “Izzy, calm down. You’re drunk”, I sighed. “Please stop being like Duff trying to take care of a drunk! That’s not the point, babe”, Izzy groaned. “Then what is your point, Stradlin? I’m fucking tired and want to sleep”, I groaned, throwing my head back.  “I- uh”, Izzy stuttered. “Fine, I'll finish it for you. We’re not friends and you know it”, I said. Izzy’s eyes widened, “Fuck” 
“Well. Yell, scream, say something. Anything.”, I sighed, getting tired of his shit. Izzy pushed me up to the wall, lips crashing on mine. I pulled apart from him, “Wanna crash here, it’s late” “Thought you never ask”, Izzy grinned. 
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angrylizardjacket · 4 years
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mouth full of white lies {Machine Gun Kelly} 1
1. you look like my next mistake
Summary: You’re Douglas Booth’s adopted little sister, a YouTuber moonlighting as an assistant on The Dirt. The fact that your brother’s the lead is a happy accident. Another happy accident? Getting drunk with MGK and becoming fast friends with him. Until, of course, everyone assumes you’re together. What better way to make everyone shut up then by agreeing. Sort of. Okay so you’re not really dating but you’ve got to convince your respective fans that you are. And the rest of the cast and crew. It’s okay, flirting is totally harmless. The feelings? Everything else that comes after? Less harmless.
A/N: we meant to be a much different, much shorter fic for @kellysimagines, but i hope you like it!! fake dating AU. reader is adopted, not blood related!! warnings for drunken-ness.
the brainstrust: @sataninsatin @silvertonguedserpent @juliarose21 @kellysimagines @estxxbritt @machine-gun-casie @siriuslymooned @harringtonstudios @misscharlottelee @narcvissa @hiworlditishumbleme @angelwarner28 @nevilles-insinuations @rumoured-whispers @mgkobsessed @edwardtriggerhandzz @suckerforbarnes @wastelcve @bakerkells @local-troubled-writer @freddiessmallnipples
----
The fact that you and your brother ended up working on the same project was purely coincidence, and that actually wasn’t a lie. Douglas had landed the role of a lifetime, Nikki Sixx in The Dirt, and was immediately up to his eyes in nondisclosure agreements. You, on the other hand, had been scrolling through Facebook when a friend of yours, Josy, who happened to be an assistant director who had been talking about a ‘huge project for Netflix she wasn’t allowed to discuss’ asked if you wanted to come onboard as her assistant, since you’d proven to be good under pressure and fast on your feet when she had still been filming student projects only a few years ago.
“Hello! Hello and welcome back, ducklings! Today is a ‘Get Ready With Me’ for my flight to New Orleans! Can you believe it? I’m working on a big project and I have to travel - they’re paying for my travel! I’m so excited! This is going to be such a fun project, even though I can’t tell you too much about it just yet. So to start with, I’m going to run you through my every-day shower routing.”
You hadn’t been at the table read, but you had been at rehearsals, had turned up on the first day looking all done up, excited and professional, only to be met with your brother in eyeliner. 
“Duck!” Of course he was elated to see you, grin splitting his face from ear to ear. He calls you by your childhood nickname, he always has, and already you can feel every pair of eyes on you, but you don’t care. The nickname had followed you through life, of course less than a day in the project and it was already spreading. 
Everything making sense after you mention Josy had gotten you the job. She was a mutual friend, had always been fond of the two of you.
“This,” you enthuse, clutching your clipboard to your chest, “this is what you’re doing? You’re doing the Motley Crue biopic?” You’re looking at him with stars in your eyes, your talented big brother, who seemed to bring you along for the ride in one way or another. 
And finally he can tell you about it, because damn it had felt like forever since the two of you had spoken simply because he’d been hiding the biggest news in his life from you. 
“Oi, Booths!” You hear Josy’s distinct voice the moment she steps in the rehearsal room, though she’s clearly smiling, “good to see you both, but Doug, I need you up and in the space; I’m running warm ups before we get started. Duck, could you go on a coffee run for me?” She asks it sweetly; she’d picked up the nickname for you years ago from Douglas, and of course it had stuck, not that you minded. With that you’re both off. 
You’d been so distracted by getting to talk to your brother, who had been early just as you had been - there’s something to be said for nature versus nurture, despite not sharing genetics, you certainly shared a sense of punctuality - that you hadn’t even seemed to notice the rest of the cast getting in. But they’re not your job; you just have to keep Josy happy, get her food and drinks when she requested it, and type out emails she dictates. Easy. 
Of course this isn’t how things stay; you’re in close proximity to the cast for at least five hours a day, in a corner somewhere working on your own emails or scrolling through Twitter when you weren’t needed, but always around. For the first few days, no-one pays you much attention. 
“Hello! Hello and welcome back, ducklings! It’s my first week with The Project, and I’ve finally got a day off; it’s Sunday so I’m dragging my brother to a whole bunch of places you lovely people have recommended for me! Wish us luck!”
You’ve been in front of a camera for about as long as Douglas has, though never quite in the same way. You’d tried your hand at all sorts of jobs, both in the entertainment industry, and not, and while you enjoyed the entertainment industry well enough, you found that you had a passion for making your own videos. Your YouTube channel, which was almost at a million followers, had been going strong for almost four years, as you made videos about the lesser known roles in the industry. Sometimes your brother was in your videos, but often he wasn’t, and you felt lucky that you never really needed to use him for clout. He was just Doug, and your followers knew that if he was in a video, it’s because he wanted to be, but he wasn’t the reason the video was being made.
Douglas was nothing if not supportive, and when Sunday rolls around and when production gave you and the main cast the day off, while the second unit team worked with some of the secondary characters, you were both more than happy to take advantage of the freedom.
“Dude I have such a long list of places we could go, I don’t even know where to begin - haven’t you been here before?” You pressed the phone to your ear, frowning at the two outfits you had laid out on the bed before you.
“Yeah, for like,” Douglas hums at the other end of the line, “like press things, and like a week and a half for some Jupiter Ascending stuff-”
“Did that even make it -?”
“No, it got cut -” somewhere behind him, the milk frother of a coffee machine squeals, and someone’s indistinct name is called.
“Get me a drink,” you tell him, instinctively.
“Get one yourself!” He half laughs, and you hear him cover the receiver and muffle his thanks as he presumably picks up his drink.
“Who are you talking to?” When he uncovers the phone, you can hear another familiar voice; it’s Colson, you’re pretty sure. You know him from rehearsals, and a bit from his music, but not much beyond that.
“My sister,” Douglas offers, flatly, to which you make a noise of indignance. 
“Ask him if he’s ever been to New Orleans -” you instruct, putting the phone on speaker and opting to change into your more practical jeans and sweater option.
“She wants to know if you’ve ever been to New Orleans -” He relays easily, and you hear a snort of laughter.
“Of course I have.” You hear Colson say.
“Of course he has -” Douglas tells you, as if worried that you hadn’t heard.
“Ask him -” You begin, but you’re cut off.
“We’re across the road,” Douglas tells you, and you know without having to see him that he’s rolling his eyes at you. Audi ambassador, philanthropist, movie star, and occasional model Douglas Booth had the composure of a saint for everyone but you, though neither of you would have it any other way, “just come over here yourself.”
“Get me a drink?” You asked hopefully, and you heard him sigh, knowing you’d already won.
Your favourite drink is waiting for you when you arrive, as are both Douglas, and Colson, sitting hunched over in a booth with dark glasses. You can’t help but chuckle.
“Booths in a booth.” You mutter, and at least that gets their attention. Sliding in next to Douglas, you make eye contact with Colson as he lowers his glasses and frowns at you, just a little, as you sip your drink.
He looks between the two of you for a moment; you don’t share a whole heap of similarities with him, but after a beat, he nods, and gives you a curious look.
“Alright, good to meet you,” he paused, narrowed his eyes for a moment, “you’re part of the crew, aren’t you?” Is what he focuses on.
“Assistant to the AD,” you nod, before adding, “Duck, you might know me as Duck,” and that he seems to recognise at least. Colson hums thoughtfully, nodding and sliding his glasses back up his nose as he leans back against the seat. Drinking your drink with a surprising focus, you hand over your list of recommended places to Douglas, who nods approvingly, but quickly turns it over to Colson. He makes short work of it, crosses quite a few spots off, adds a few of his own, and takes pause to look up from it.
“Why are we going all over town? Why not just like... chill and maybe go over lines and shit? Isn’t that what we’re meant to do?”
“Didn’t take you for the cautious type,” you tell him with a teasing edge to your voice. Colson fixes you with a half-smile, handing the phone back pointedly.
“I’m not, I just don’t want you to narc on me if we start at bourbon street and spend our precious Sunday getting drunk in The Big Easy,” he matches your tone, sitting back with a posture so relaxed it’s almost scripted, and you’re pretty sure you like his nerve. 
“I’m...” you hesitate a little, “a YouTuber,” and though Colson winces a little, it still stings. With so much stigma surrounding your profession, even in 2018, it’s hard to explain to people what you do for a living and not receive criticism.
“So you’re gonna catch all the stupid shit we do on camera?” He asks, and oh, so that’s what he’s worried about. You let out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.
“If you don’t wanna be in it, then you don’t have to be; anyways, I’ll edit out all the bits that break our NDAs,” shrugging, you shoot for casual, and Colson looks like he’s actually weighing up his options. 
“You still haven’t told him you’re not a narc,” Douglas stage whispers to you, which makes your expression sour and Colson laugh.
“You’re a narc,” you hiss back, reflexively. 
“We’re method acting,” Douglas offers, aiming for that same casual confidence that Colson was exuding, but not quite getting there.
“Fuck yeah, dude, that’s the spirit,” Colson’s expression breaks out into a grin, and he offers Douglas a fist bump, which your brother gladly returns. Then Colson’s looking back at you, bright and excited rather than judgmental; “you in?”
“We’ve gained a newcomer! A tour guide, if you will, Mister-” and you turn where you’re filming yourself and the two men beside you, the camera shaking in your grip as you head down the street, and your voice lowers, “what do you want me to introduce you as-” but he buts you off, moves around Douglas, who’s laughing quietly to himself, and grabs the camera.
“It’s MGK, motherfuckers! We ‘bout to hit Bourbon Street - we’ll bookend this shit; open with it and close with it, we’ll be back here tonight!” He sticks his tongue out, and throws out the devil sign with his hands, before turning the camera to catch Douglas laughing, and you looking both excited and concerned.
“We will?” 
When you ask about Daniel and Iwan, the other two members of the film’s Motley Crue, all you get is vague answers; in time, they’ll all come to be good friends, but it’s their first Sunday off, and no-one begrudges them for them choosing to take time for themselves. Douglas and Colson, however, had decided early on to try and make their friendship both on and off screen as authentic as possible. 
“Fuck, man, Tommy’s like, opening line in the book is that he and Nikki were like an old married couple, for like twenty years, dude, that kind of connection is insane!” Colson is nothing if not good casting, waxing poetic at a diner he’d spotted around midday, your little group already tipsy and hungry since your less than substantial cafe breakfast.
“I give this bacon and egg roll,” Douglas is in his own little world, only aware that you had your camera pointing at him as he devoured his lunch with a surprisingly messy gusto, “four-and-a-half out of five cups.” He announced with a mouth full of food, using the rating system you’d devised earlier in the day. After a moment, he swallowed, before turning to Colson, expression serious, “I’ve known you for about a week, and as much as I like you, I don’t think I want to marry you.” 
“No, that’s the thing, man, twenty years is a long-ass time to know someone; I just, man, by the end of this, we are gonna be tight, okay? That’s all I want. Bros, you know?” And he wrapped his arms around Douglas, pulling him in for a hug, and your brother nodded seriously, wrapping his arm around Colson in return.
“Bros.” He confirmed, giving the camera a very pointed look. You make sure the camera catches when you flip him off. All it does is set off all three of you laughing.
It’s an incredibly fun day, the three of you traipsing around, visiting sound studios and memorials and sites that paid homage to the great city you found yourselves in. You know you shouldn’t be surprised, but Colson’s rather reverential when it comes to the history of music, and when you look back at your list, you see the sites he’s added all have to do with it. Honestly, you’re a little endeared. It’s also a fun night, the parts of it you can remember, stumbling, leaning on one another. There’s bound to be something about it in the gossip rags in the following days, not that the three of you were badly behaved, just that they had both stopped caring about avoiding paparazzi, and, alright, being a little bit raucous. 
In bed by two, you know you’re gonna have a killer hang over for your nine-am start, but it was a fun night, and you’re looking forward to reviewing your footage.
“I give this bourbon from - hey, where’s this bourbon from?” You turn to look over your shoulder, and the cup in your hand slops over with drink, splashing out onto the street, not that you notice. Douglas is talking to someone running a stall, but Colson joins you, wrapping an arm around you.
“We give this bourbon a cup out of cup,” he announces, and you nod seriously.
“Cup out of cup.” You agree, and lift up the cup, before an idea lights up your face. “Drink it with me, like same cup, try and drink it with me.” It’s a terrible idea, your cheeks pressed together, tongues out as if it would help you drink better -
“You guys look like incredibly stupid,” Douglas calls out from out of frame, finally noticing the two of you. You go to respond, but that’s when Colson tips up the cup and it manages to hit neither of your mouths, instead it splashes against where your cheeks were pressed together, and all down your clothes. “Told you.” Douglas adds. 
Colson licks the bourbon from your cheek with a grin, but moves on quickly. You look around shiftily once the boys had left, still holding the camera with one hand, and you pull the hem of your shirt to your mouth, sucking liquor from it as you follow behind them wearing a pleased little smile.
Honestly, things get more lively in more ways than one, after that. Now that Colson knows you, it seems the rest of the cast do too. Slowly but surely you’re developing a friendship with both Iwan and Daniel, though Colson’s been surprisingly quick to treat you like an old friend.
“Trial by fireball whiskey,” is what he tells you after rehearsals one Saturday night. You’re doing a dinner run, picking up pizzas before the four of them go out, with you as their chaperone, as directed by Josy. 
“Speaking of,” though you can’t help but grin a little at the fact that you’d earned his favour so easily, “I’ve almost finished the video.” 
“Oh God,” he groans, laughs, and covers his face with his hands, “do I even wanna see it?”
“It’s not that damning, I promise, I need to stay monetized, you know?” You laugh, but it’s a sad truth you’ve had to deal with a lot since choosing to become a YouTuber. 
“I’m not exactly PG-13,” Colson’s smirking when you look at him, and his gaze meets yours and what does that tone mean and why are you reading into this all of a sudden.
“So I suppose you were on your best behavior that night?” You ask, voice innocent, though you can feel yourself getting flustered. His smirk grows wider.
“Only for Douglas’ sake.” 
And then your name’s called for the pizzas and the mood vanishes and Colson just asks if you can send him a link when you put up the video; you tell him you can send him it before it’s published, just to make sure he’s happy with it, and he gives you this genuine smile that you feel warm your heart, just a little.
But it’s when you publish the video that all hell breaks loose. 
Having a famous brother is one thing. Having a famous brother is allowed. Knowing someone famous is clout chasing, is gold digging, is not allowed according to the internet. Making someone famous laugh is downright illegal, surely he can do better than you. Because with the views come assumptions, and your burgeoning crush aside, they’re baseless. You’ve known him for three weeks. Twenty one and a half days in total. Flirting aside, the internet doesn’t know shit. 
It still hurts. 
The video kind of blows up, because everyone loves relatively harmless drunk celebrity shenanigans, and Colson’s kind of been blowing up recently between his music, and his upcoming film Bird Box. So now there’s invasive questions and death threats filling up your DMs on every platform, and along with a new influx of followers comes a new wave of toxicity. You know how to deal with people accusing you of using your brother for clout, but this is a whole other level. 
“So you’re with Colson,” Douglas looks smug when you answer your door on the day after the video drops. Though quick to defend yourself, there’s already tears in your eyes having had little sleep from the stress of everything that had happened, his smug aura drops and he wraps you up in a hug. “Hey, I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” his voice is soothing and level as he walks you back into your room, closing your door.
“You’re an ass,” you tell him, sulkily, but you hug him back.
“I’m sorry,” he tells you in earnest.
“I’m gonna get fired-”
“You’re not gonna get fired, Duck, you didn’t break your NDA, you didn’t break YouTube’s terms of service, you bleeped out all the swearing, you had an alcohol disclaimer at the start; this is the fans and the media blowing things way out of proportion.” He assures as you sniffle, still hugging him tightly. 
“They’re gonna fire me,” you murmur, voice a soft, sad whine.
“They’re not.” 
This is the point at which your phone starts to go off; someone’s calling you, and the caller ID says it’s Colson. He must have just woken up.
“He okay-ed the video, didn’t he?” Douglas asks, and you nod. “Then he won’t be mad; he’s dealt with this shit more than us, you know?” He gently pushes you towards the phone where it’s sitting on your bed, and steps back. “I’m gonna give you and your boyfriend some space,” and it’s teasing again, his grin sharp as he ducks out of the way of the pillow you throw.
“Asshole!” You yell after him. Once’s he’s out of the room, however, you take a moment to compose yourself before picking up the phone. 
“Hey, I’m so sorry -” you start, but Colson seems surprised to hear your apology.
“Nah, Ducky, don’t worry about it, I called to apologise to you; if I’m ever seen with a chick everyone thinks I’m dating her, I should have realised, I should have -”
“No, I mean, I can’t post a video with a guy who’s not my brother without five different tea channels claiming I’m in love,” you laugh, trying to hide your distress. An awkward silence follows, in which you sniffle, and reopen your laptop.
“I am really sorry,” Colson says, and there’s regret in his voice that you hadn’t expected. “If I could get them to all shut the fuck up, I would; you shouldn’t be all torn up over my shit.”
Something about what he says plays in your mind over the next few days, watching, subdued in rehearsals. The rest of the cast ask if your alright, sympathizes with you, all of them having had run-ins with the media in one way or another. Josy, in her own way, sympathizes too, in that she doesn’t treat you any differently, she doesn’t pity you. She, like you, like all of you, knows it will blow over. Probably.
“Hello,” your tone is so damn subdued, “hello and welcome back. I’m here today to address some rumours you may have heard. To all my new ducklings, hello. And to all my old, hello again.”
“They’re not gonna believe you if you deny it,” is how you greet Colson, barging into his room after rehearsals on a Wednesday. It had been a good day, things had calmed down somewhat online, but still gossip rags were still going hard, seeing as the paparazzi had managed to spot the two of you together during a break in rehearsals. 
“Yeah, no, they generally don’t,” he says flatly, frowning a little as he closes the door, running with whatever train of thought you were on.
“Then don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Deny it.”
Silence.
“Are you asking me out?” He actually wears a little smile at that, but you fix him with a serious look, not even a hint of a joke in your tone or expression. 
“Yes, because we’re twelve,” you rolled your eyes, tone so flat it’s almost comical, before you snap “- fucking no I’m not asking you out -” the thought had crossed your mind several times before shit had hit the fan, but there was no way in hell he’d genuinely want you now; you both came with a mob of crazed fans, and a sweet, if fake relationship with an amicable end would be far easier to manage than crazed rumors, “I’m fake asking you out. If you’d have me, I want to date you to get our fans to calm down.”
“How?!” He splutters, both confused and overwhelmingly amused. “That’d never work.”
“If we tell them we’re together, and we’re both working on projects, the industry won’t see either of as distracted by outside sources; we talk up how we’re supporting one another through this process, and that if our fans ever wanted what’s best for us, they’d support us too.”
“You’d...” he swallows hard, though he’s certainly contemplating the thought, “you’d still get death threats, you know that-”
“I get death threats when I don’t post feet pics;” you snorted dismissively, and his eyebrows rose, “I can handle them, but if you said this made you happy, well I think a majority of your fans would calm down. Stan-culture is weird and frightening, but a lot of them, most of them,” you corrected yourself, “want what’s best for you.”
“You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?” And he’s smiling now, watching you with something that almost resembles admiration in his eyes.
“Tell me you haven’t had a hundred tweets yelling about how you’ve corrupted me,” you cock your hip, and he casts a glance to his phone, before admitting he has, “well if I go back to posting non-drunk content with you in it, they’ll die down, I guarantee it.”
“What about your brother?”
“He’ll support me no matter what, it’ll be more believable if he, you know, believes it.” You hold out your hand, waiting. There’s an almost intimidating spark in your eyes, a focus that Colson hasn’t seen before. “Are you in?”
“Yeah, fuck it, why not,” and he shakes your hand, firm, grinning brightly.
“I’m here to address some rumours regarding my...” you took a deep breath, “boyfriend.”
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ironmansuuucks · 4 years
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Dude. Its only me 😇🐨 Butttt... can i ask for a fluffy Dewey x reader where the reader is this insecure-bouncy-odd-tattooed-hippie-open-minded-chick that talks to her plants in the garden and dries flowers and stuff and Dewey notices and falls head over heels for her??? 💙🤫☀️🤘🌷🌼🌻💐🌸🌹🦗🐞🐝🕸️🍂🍀🌿🌵🌳🍃🦋🕊 pretty pleaaase?
hello my lovely, thank you for your beautiful request! thank you so so much for submitting and i’m super sorry its taken me so long! 
but we have it now! and I hope I have done it justice! and of course you have made thee most beautiful aesthetic to match! 
words: 1800 
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Dewey had to get out of there. He had seen his ex-girlfriend in the coffee shop he frequented, which was fine, until he seen her dumbass new boyfriend standing there next to her. And that was it. He was outta there faster than you can say cappuccino with chocolate on top please.
Hood up, hands in pockets and head down. He just needed to walk. Clear his head. Anywhere would do. So he just wandered where his feet took him.
Eventually he found himself in an area full of little cottages and bungalows on avenue fifth. It was quaint, and differed a lot from the big city atmosphere he was used to. It was surrounded by tall trees, and bushes and flower gardens all over. It was refreshing. And the smell of all the flowers was endearing.
As he looked around, he could hear someone.. humming? He knitted his eyebrows together as he looked around, hoping to see where the quiet humming is coming from.
As his head swings around to the right, towards the noise, he first notices this beautiful front garden, covered in beautiful wild flowers and shrubberies. It was enchanting.
And then he saw you. The humming coming straight from your lips. She’s beautiful, he thought. He could see parts of your skin from underneath your cardigan, and you were painted in delicate, intricate tattoos. And heck, you were wearing the cutest overalls underneath your cardigan. They were kinda messy with paint, and gardening, but they were adorable. You were beautiful.
And Dewey was full on staring at you. And as you picked a few more flowers, you lifted her head, and your eyes caught his for a brief second.. before Dewey darted his gaze away. He felt bashful that he had been caught admiring you.
His cheeks went a bright, rosy red colour, mirroring the wild flowers carpeting the garden, and his head went down, picking up his walking pace.
His head was spinning. Who was she? She was amazing. Beautiful. I need to know her. He thought to himself as he walked home, his mood significantly lifted.
 * * * * * *
 Luckily the next day, Dewey’s plans were open, and there was only one thing on his agenda; head down avenue fifth. Hopefully catch a glance at the flower girl.  
He had to lay his eyes on you again. He hadn’t stopped thinking about you. How captivating you were. You had taken up every inch and crevice of his thoughts. And you’d had no idea.
So he woke up earlier than normal. He showered, shampooed and conditioned his hair, lathering himself in body wash, singing Maggie May by rod Stewart.
Dewey even ironed his favourite Motley Crue t-shirt – sincerely a first for him – and gave his black converse a quick wipe down with a cloth. He felt brand new. As if he was on cloud nine. Like he was ready to go and face the world.. or maybe just this cool chick down avenue fifth.
As he inched closer and closer to the little cottage towards the end of the street, his hands began to get sweaty. He was so nervous. Like what if she thinks I’m weird? Or, or ugly or too chubby, or that I’m messy.. what if she doesn’t like music.
His head was racing. He could almost lay eyes on the wild flowers at the end of the garden over the fence. Hopefully you were there.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
He felt kinda awkward, so he shoved his hands in his pockets dramatically. Then he pulled them back out.
What? No. you don’t wanna look like some thug.
He shifted his eyes to the right, the garden just coming into his view.
Aw good, she’s there. What do I do? What do I say?
He was so nervous.
And suddenly he was walking right past the garden. He could see you bending down, picking flowers from the garden and placing them into a basket. It looked as though you were talking, or singing? He wasn’t sure.
And then it happened. you gazed up, and your eyes met his. Dewey was in a dizzy haze and it took him a moment to take in what was going on; he was too mesmerised.
Until he was pulled back to reality when he heard a small “hey” escape from you lips. He began to blush, and babble “uh, uh hey!” he managed out.
His hand absentmindedly found its way up into a cute little wave, you notice and smiled, giggling a little.
Dewey’s cheeks went even redder and he moved his hand and rubbed the back of his scorching hot neck.
He had stopped walking when they caught eyes, and now the setting felt a little awkward. Dewey had no idea what to do or say. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other.
“I-I, I really love your garden” he choked out. Still rubbing the back of his neck.
You were sitting on her knees, leaning back and smiled, looking around the garden, feeling a little bashful that this cute stranger was making conversation. “um thanks”.
Dewey nodded, feeling incredibly awkward. He rocked on his heels very lightly while darting his eyes from side to side.
“yeah.. see you around!” he smiled and started to quickly walk back in the direction he came from.
Fuck dude go the other way! She’ll think you’re stalking her, turn turn turn!
Suddenly he turned around and looked at you to see if you had noticed.
You had.
He laughed sheepishly and pointed in the other direction to which he was supposed to be heading, almost running.
You smiled  back, giggling at him.
Dewey was high on life. He was literally grinning from ear to ear. Sure he wished he had said more but all he was focused on right now was your pretty face and how your nose scrunched a little bit when you giggled at him.
He was headed back tomorrow. But with a plan.
* * * * * *
The next day, avenue fifth, 1 o’clock, Dewey was there. And ready.
He, again, had ironed his shirt and fixed his hair. Just the way he liked it.
As he was walking towards your garden he could see you in the garden again, with your overalls on, and your pretty hair and face.
Dewey cleared his throat, preparing himself.
“uh, uh hey” he started, his voice cracking ever so lightly.
You looked up from your dandelions and daisies, noticing him. The same cute guy you had seen the past few days. The same cute guy you couldn’t take your mind off of.
“hey” you softly replied, waiting to see what todays encounter would bring.
Dewey came closer to the garden, and stood at the start of the path. “I-I know we don’t know each other…” he began. Twiddling his fingers in his hands as his head went down, looking at his feet, then back up to you.
You stood up, wiping your knees and overalls from the dirt on the ground, anticipating what he was going to say.
He stepped forward a little bit again when he noticed you had gotten to your feet. You could see how nervous he felt. His vibe radiated it.
“bu-but I was wondering if you could do me a favour?” he knitted his eyebrows, and his eyes searched your face.
You blushed lightly, putting one hand into the other one, nodding at him. “I can try my best” you smile afflictively.
Dewey took one more step forward so there was little space between you both, maybe a few feet.
He glanced around and gestured to your beautiful garden full of flowers.  “well, I noticed how well kept and how beautiful your flowers were and my mom, she-she loves flowers… and I was wondering if, maybe.. you know… if you could maybe help me.. make her up a bouquet?”.
His eyes went down again, then shifted back up, waiting for your response. He felt silly. Like maybe this was a bad idea. She probably thinks I’m weird. I should leave-
His thoughts were cut off when you grinned at him.
He was so cute! You couldn’t believe this goofy, cute boy was here talking to you.
“of course! I’d love to help you with that!” you beamed.
Dewey’s face softened and a smile slowly came to his face, and his eyes lit up. “uh, really? Thank you so much” he bashfully graced you.
You nodded enthusiastically and smiled.
“what kinda flowers does your mom like?”
“well she uh..” just then Dewey noticed that you had a nose ring and his thoughts completely drifted. It was so cool.
“hey, I love your nose ring by the way!” he suddenly shifted the conversation.
It was your turn to smile bashfully at his words.
“thank you.. I uh, only recently got it… was unsure about it for so long but just decided ah fuck it, only here once right” you chuckled.
Dewey laughed with you, “your not wrong there, but its super cool you really suit! Totally rocking it” he beamed.
Her vibe is so pretty, Dewey thought to himself.
You scrunched up your nose when talking about your nose ring and Dewey was smitten. The boy honestly felt like he had fallen in love with you on the spot.
“so uh.. what kinda flowers does your mom-“
“hey listen, complete transparency here…”
Dewey cut you off and you knitted your eyebrows.
“I uh.. well the thing is, my mom actually doesn’t live here.. she lives up state.. miles and miles away” he confessed.
You continued to look at him confused.
“I uh, I actually just needed as excuse to come and talk to you.. I felt too, uh, embarrassed to just walk in and talk, to uh, you..” he rubbed the back of his neck, waiting on the rejection.
You just stood and folded your arms, kinda confused but also felt complimented. “so you.. don’t like my flowers?” you joked.
Dewey’s face went stiff and he started to babble “no I-I, uh I love your garden I really do! I think it’s beautiful and when I noticed you the other day I just couldn’t take my mind off of you because you were so pretty and…”
You started to laugh at how cute he was when he got anxious and worried.
“I’m just kidding you goof.. but thank you for all the compliments” you smiled sheepishly, looking down at your boots.
Dewey chilled out a bit and sighed a small relief.
“I just… I was just wondering if maybe you’d like to go grab some coffee? Sometime? Maybe?” he asked hesitantly.
“I would love that, uh…” you trailed off
“Dewey!” he replied enthusiastically, “my names Dewey” he beamed.
  tags:  @thewolfisapartofmysoul  @paxenera @heknowshisherbs @missihart23 @geminiacally @go-commander-kim @gegehaddock @baby-beej @sadpuppetshows @hoodoo12 @large-unit @thats-specific @vicunaburger @stranger-strings @bugdrinkss @sheinassheina @demonwifey @beetle-herbs @bugdrinkss
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Text
Live Wire --The Dirt--12
Summary: Wren Ledden, Tommy’s best friend from high school, has had a rough life, and she intends to keep the nitty gritty details of her suffrage to herself until the day she dies. Only Tommy has gotten her to open up about a small portion of her troubles, and it’s only Tommy who she trusts with her life. That is until her life gets turned around sneaking into a concert one night…the same night Motley Crue is born.
A/N: I’m going to try and update this more so I can work on some requests I have. As always, feedback is appreciated and I’m always down to talk the Crue with anyone :)
Previous Chapters: Masterlist 
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Adrenaline coursed through Nikki’s veins as he and Mick strummed the final chords of their set and gazed out into the audience. As the crowd roared their applause for the four misfits on stage, Wren turned to the man beside her with a slightly arrogant smirk resting on her face. She didn’t know how soon she should have approached him, but after using up all of her available resources of finding dive bars for the band to play in, and Nikki continually begging his boss to let Mötley Crüe play at the Whisky again and again, Wren figured now was as good of a time as ever.
“They’re good,” he stated. The salt and pepper of the man’s hair was different from how Wren the image she had of her grandfather’s brother from years ago, but his eyes were just as piercing and weary as she could recall. “Your mother would hate that you’re here. You know that, right?” Wren folded her arms over her chest and held her breath at the mere mention of her parents.
“They hate a lot of the things I like, and much of what I’ve done, but I’m not here to talk about my mother, Uncle Elmer. Grandpa taught me everything I know about the industry, and the one thing he said more than anything else was—”
“Talent is important, but knowing someone important will allow the world to experience that talent,” the tall, rather puffy faced man said as he recalled the nugget of wisdom his brother frequently spouted to anyone who was listening, but most frequently to young Wren in particular.
“You don’t have to vouch for them if you don’t think they have what it takes to make it. I can keep finding dive bars, sleazy clubs, anything it takes to get them the face time with audiences they need before booking the bigger venues, but you’re someone important, and me knowing you could allow the world to see all that these guys have to offer.” Wren didn’t smile or smirk; her face was firm and confident in her assessment of Mötley Crüe, and she only hoped her great-uncle would see what she saw in them. Sure, they were still new to the scene, and even though it felt as if they had only been together for a matter of months, they were encroaching on the year anniversary of forming the band.
Once again, the man’s eyes surveyed the crowd as teenagers and young adults jumped up and down, threw their fists into the air and chanted the band’s name in hopes they’d perform one last song before stepping off stage. Tommy’s eyes searched for Wren, but he gave up when he realized fighting against the blinding spotlights focused on him was bringing on a headache.
“They’re certainly something you don’t see every day,” Elmer commented as he trailed over each of the men standing on stage. “And keep selling out each time they play here at the Whisky.” With a sigh, Elmer Valentine shoved his hands into his pockets and pulled out a pen. “Call this number and I’ll make sure your band gets a back-to-back, two-night performance at The Roxy,” he said as he scribbled down a telephone number under the words ‘Roxy Theatre’. “I’ll also put a few calls in to some colleagues and friends about having them perform at other venues.”“Other venues?” Wren asked as she took the napkin her great-uncle had written on and slid it into her back pocket.
“The Troubadour, The Starwood, maybe even Gazzarri’s and the Santa Monica Civic Center,” he said nonchalantly with a smirk on his face as he watched Wren’s face beam excitement.
“You’re the best, Uncle Elmer,” Wren said with a wide smile as she peered up at the first person in her family, aside from her grandfather, to believe in her. “Thank you so much!”
“Don’t mention it, kiddo,” he said before reaching out to envelope Wren in a quick hug. “Just keep us being relatives under wraps. Connections are one thing, but nepotism is another.” With a quick nod of understanding between the pair, Wren shook her great-uncle’s hand one more time before she began to push her way past the crowd and towards the green room as she heard Vince call into the microphone, “Once again, we are Mötley Crüe. Don’t forget you can buy t-shirts and shit at the bar! Good night Los Angeles!”
 Backstage, a few employees of The Whisky began to pack up Tommy’s drums and carry the instruments and amplifiers to the beat-up van the band had been using to transport their belongings between the house and shows. The guys were hurrying to scrub the makeup they had on their faces off with wet washcloths, and buzzed from the electricity in their bones from the performance they just gave.
“This is amazing!” Tommy bellowed as he tossed the rag he used to clean his face towards the travel bag of makeup Wren had brought along. “They love us!”
“Three performances here isn’t enough to get us on the map,” Nikki reminded him solemnly. “We just have to hope we made some money off t-shirt and cassette sales to book a pat-to-play gig or something.”
“Do you really have that little faith in your manager?” Wren questioned as she entered the green room to see Vince beginning to strip himself out of his stage costume in order to change into his normal clothes. Confidently, Wren walked to where Mick and Nikki sat and held a crisp check over her beaming smile. “You guys made three-hundred dollars in sales,” she said as she passed the check to Mick, who then showed it to the rest of the band.
“No way!” Tommy gasped as he ran towards Mick to stare at the proof of their profit.
“We’re going to celebrate! Tonight!” Vince stated. “I already told some fans to come to the house for an after party, so you can’t say no!” Excitement spread through every fiber of Tommy’s being and Nikki became almost as excited as Tommy.
“Well, if you’re going to celebrate something, it’s not going to be making a few hundred bucks,” Wren said as she leaned her back against one of the vanities positioned against the wall. As Mick noticed an all-knowing smirk on her face, he spoke first.
“Alright, I’ll bite. Do you have something you’re not telling us, Ledden?” Her smirk seemed to transfer to his lips and she bit her lip before spilling her small secret.
“Certain connections and scouting have led to Mötley Crüe getting a two-night performance at the Roxy.” Before Wren could finish her sentence, Tommy had her hanging in the air like a rag-doll between his arms as he swung her around in circles.
“How in the hell were you able to pull that off?” Vince questioned with a large smile on his face.
“Grandpa’s old radio station friends?” Tommy guessed as he placed Wren back on the ground and began to twirl his drumsticks as a way to channel the energy surging through him.
“Something like that,” Wren commented. “And that’s not all. There’s talk of securing places like the Troubadour and some pretty big venues too.”
“Damn,” Nikki sighed as he came over to thank Wren for not only believing in the band, but getting shit done to promote them. “What would we do without you?”
“Crash and burn,” she smirked with a light chuckle as Nikki draped an arm across her shoulders and squeezed before he quickly let go. It was short, sweet, and friendly, but that didn’t keep Mick, Tommy, or even Vince from scrutinizing every millisecond of the interaction.
***                        ***                        ***                        ***
The clock on the wall read half past two in the morning, but no one seemed to notice the time. The small, cramped apartment felt even smaller and more cramped with each passing moment as more people seemed to filter into and out of the Mötley home through whatever crevasse they could find. Like roaches, people who had attended the band’s performance crawled into and through their home, except in some cases, Wren definitely preferred the roaches. She and Mick lingered on the outside of the chaos that seemed to be unfolding in ever square inch of her home, and each did their best to distract themselves with burning liquids.
“Not one for parties?” Mick questioned as the pair leaned against the window sill and looked out across the sea of sweaty people.
“Not one for people,” she responded as she pulled a plastic cup to her lips and tasted the sweet, burning concoction of Dr. Pepper and Amaretto.
“Don’t like them?” Mick asked without taking his eyes off the scene before the pair.
“Don’t trust them. Everyone has a secret agenda or bullshit selfish endeavors,” she huffed her blanket statement into existence. The man beside her nodded in solidarity and the pair tried once again to relax and blend into the wall, but having Tommy rush to Wren’s side only began to draw attention to the two loaners.
“Wren, look!” Tommy gasped as he let out a puff of smoke in the shape of a ring. The distinctively sweet and earthy flavor tickled her nose as she caught a whiff of the smoke coming from Tommy’s mouth. “It’s just like band camp!” he gasped before handing the remainder of a joint off to her and disappearing into the crowd. Without hesitation, Wren placed her lips to the rolled-up paper she held delicately between her index and middle fingers and inhaled. Upon seeing Mick’s down-turned eyes, Wren let go of the breath she was holding and coughed once before she attempted to defend herself.
“It’s an occasional vice,” she tried to explain before he cut her off.
“I’m not your pops; you don’t owe me anything. You’re a smart woman.” With a nod and a smile in his direction, Wren took another, much shorter puff before letting her arm hang down.
“I’m really glad you’re here. This is probably going to be commonplace and it’s nice to not be the only person lingering in the background,” Wren admitted as she and Mick peeled themselves off the wall to make their way towards Tommy who was frantically waving his arms in their direction. In their walk over, Wren took a few more hits from the joint before it was gone and then disposed of it in an ashtray.
“Don’t mention it,” Mick huffed as he sat down across from Tommy and Wren placed herself between the two. Nikki sat across from her, his head ducked and his forehead placed against one of Tommy’s cymbals. The fuzzy feeling in her head and the chill that was taking over her from her core initially distracted her from the scene that was unfolding before her. There was a heavy inhaling sound before Nikki pulled his head up, widened his eyes, and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his leather jacket. Wren closed her eyes and blinked rapidly to clear any conclusion jumping from her mind, but when Tommy mimicked Nikki’s actions and her eyes caught sight of the white powder, her pounding heart turned to lead and the chills caused her to begin to shake.
“What the hell?” she asked as her now bloodshot eyes darted from Tommy to the drugs before her.
“Did you want some?” he asked only to have Wren slap him in the back of the head.
“No, I didn’t ‘want some,’” she sneered as she despairingly mocked him. “You two are going to fuck things up for Mötley Crüe before you ever make it out of LA!” Wren’s accusing tone caused Tommy to mentally shut down. Only once before had he she ever been truly angry with him, and it was something he vowed to avoid at all costs; however, Nikki scoffed as he reached for the cymbal to do another line. In a wave of anger, Wren grabbed the instrument and turned sharply on her heel towards the bathroom.
“Wren!” Nikki called as he rushed after her. “Wren what are you doing?” Without thinking to knock, Wren threw open the door and turned on the sink before placing the cymbal under it and rinsing the remainder of cocaine down the drain. “What the fuck, Wren?” Nikki grumbled as he placed his hands on her waist and spun her around to face him. Now completely freezing from the weed-chills, Wren’s fingers were unable to sustain their grip on the cymbal and the loud crash it made as it fell to the ground sent a painfully long ringing through both her and Nikki’s ears.
“What the hell is going on out there?” a voice behind the shower curtain called out. Before Wren could turn her head, the curtain flew open to reveal Vince and Lovey, each topless, sitting in the bathtub with a syringe plunged into their arms.
“It’s just your bassist trying to fuck the band’s original groupie,” Lovey commented in an aloof and airy tone with a laugh in her voice, however, unlike her usual insults, which were met with fierce, deadly glares, she was unable to hold eye contact with Wren for longer than a few seconds.
“Find a different room, Nikki. We’re using this one,” Vince muttered in the same incoherent tone as his girlfriend.
“Are you fucking shooting up?” Nikki grumbled as he threw the rest of the shower curtain open and glared down at Vince. “You’re chewing my ass out when blondie is fucking injecting,” Nikki groaned as he turned back to face Wren.
“You’re both fucking pathetic for using coke in the first place!” Wren shouted in response as she tried to contain herself from shaking too violently.
“Says the woman who’s high—”
“Half a joint is different from fucking cocaine!” Wren quickly retaliated.
“What’s the big deal? All the greats do it,” Vince returned with a goofy grin over his face.
“The big deal is that you guys are still, essentially, nobodies! You have a f-few good shows and a do-it-yourself, demo tape and y-you think you’re hot shit! You d-dumbasses are going to throw everything if you don’t grow up!” Frustrated and angry at a solid seventy-five percent of Mötley Crüe, Wren left the mess she had made in the bathroom—cymbal on the floor, water running, Nikki fuming, and Vince floating through the air—and to return to the only sound mind in the band besides her. “You’re both useless,” she said on her way out as she angrily slammed the door behind her.
“Someone isn’t getting laid tonight,” Lovey sneered at Nikki who glared at the woman before throwing the door open and then closed again to follow Wren in an attempt to make things right. As he tried to hurry after her in his inebriated state, he could feel himself growing angrier and angrier as a drunk, male party-goer continued to place himself in front of Wren, therefore blocking her from going anywhere.
“Back off,” Nikki could hear her defiant voice command before he watched as Tommy stood and staggered his way towards his best friend.
“Dude, leave her alone,” Tommy slurred.
“You haven’t spent more than a minute with her tonight, so I know she’s not your girl. If anything, the old grump has more to say than you,” the man commented as he jutted his head towards Mick.
“She’s not the person you want to fuck with, dude,” Mick commented as he followed Tommy towards the commotion.
“Come on, you’ve been warned three times now,” Nikki commented as he pushed himself between the man and Wren, “show some respect or get the fuck out!” As Nikki lengthened his spine to use his height over this man to his favor, the shorter, much stockier man’s chest had puffed out and his voice deepened as he threatened Nikki.
“Make me motherfucker,” he panted in an angry and determined tone as he dug his fingers into Nikki’s collarbones and shoved him backwards until he toppled over into Tommy. In a rage at the man for cornering her, at Nikki and Tommy for snorting coke, and at Vince for shooting up, Wren sent her leg flying up into the man’s groin. As he doubled over in pain, she shoved her fist across his face in a swift motion, sending the man to the ground in a moaning pile of drunk trash.
“I’m going to bed,” she announced angrily as she stepped over the crumpled and agonizing body on the floor and threw the door open to her room. “Get the fuck out!” she shouted at the two or three couples thinking they were about to get it on in her room before they went scurrying away like rats through a storm drain. Nikki swore he could hear the lock click on her door over the noise and chaos unfolding in the rest of their apartment, but he was too angry and embarrassed to do anything other than watch as Tommy and another party-goer threw the man outside of the house.
A moment ago, he wanted to apologize, to make a deal with her, to promise he wouldn’t do anything to compromise what he knows she’s been busting her ass for him to achieve, but now? Now he felt small, weak, even emasculated by the fact that a girl just laid out the guy he was trying to protect her from. Who fucking does that? He thought as he shrunk away from the party and out, into the night and onto the front porch. A man defends a woman. It’s that simple. She made you look weak, even dependent. As the thoughts circulated in his mind, Nikki glanced at the two lawn chairs that over looked the street below. The softness in his heart he felt towards her that morning had begun to fade, and the more he thought about how embarrassed he felt in that moment that seemed to hang, frozen in time, the higher the walls he was constructing became. Nikki pursed his lips and clenched his jaw as he sharply inhaled the night air. With anger in his heart and a ferocious grimace on his face, he pushed past the partiers until he too had sunken into the dark, stillness of his room.
Tags:  @prettyyoungandbored​, @hot-young-runningfree​, @crue-sixx​, @oskea93​, @dancergirl5527​, @thatonemoviefan​, @casualcomputerarbiter-blog​, @motleymachinegun​, @motleycrueee​, @motley-queen​, @american-satanxx 
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basiccortez · 4 years
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Hi, hey, hola, ahola...
I’m a “new” writing account (been writing on wattpad for a while, but just started posting on here) but I will be opening my requests for imagines, and one-shots.
Who I’ll write about:
Twilight characters
On My Block characters
Mayans MC characters
Sons of Anarchy characters
All American characters
Riverdale characters
13 Reasons Why characters
Divergent Characters
BoRhap characters/actors
Shawn Mendes
The Dirt/ Motley Crue
There are something’s I will not write about, simply because I don’t feel comfortable because of my lack of knowledge on the subject, or because I just don’t feel comfortable about it:
trafficking
immigration
anything political
mass shootings
anything personal about the actor/actress/celebrity that has been leaked on the internet without being proven correct by that person
some aspects of the LGBTQ community. There is not hate or discrimination against them, there is parts of the community that I don’t have a lot of knowledge about, and do not want to offend anyone by writing it incorrectly. If someone requests an imagine or one-shot, I will gladly work on the piece, but before i post it, i would want that reader to make sure I correctly wrote what they wanted.
so please request, request, REQUEST
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bandzrus · 5 years
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The No Fun Tour (Part 1)
The Dirt!Tommy Lee x Reader
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Masterlist
SUMMARY // You’ve been working as a roadie for Motley Crue for a number of years because of your interest in the music business and family connections with Doc.  The boys are touring with Ozzy and things are looking promising for them, but if they mess up one more hotel room they’re in big trouble with Elektra Records. Doc has assigned you to watch Tommy for the night, and while the boys are like second family to you, you realize you may actually have more feelings for the drummer than you originally thought.
NOTE // This is my first one-shot, and I’m really hoping to do more.  REQUESTS ARE OPEN!  MGK as Tommy is so friggin’ cute, I just had to write something for him.  
WORDS // 6092
 ***
                Working with Motley Crue was exhausting and never easy, but you couldn’t imagine yourself doing anything else with your life.  You had grown up being obsessed with music and your parents always encouraged you to pursue that, even though it wasn’t the most convention career path.  You had tried picking up a couple of instruments over the years, but nothing really stuck despite your passion.  You were probably the best at singing, but nowhere near good enough to make a living out of it, so you decided that working in the business was good enough. And that’s where Doc came in.  He was a family friend of your dad’s and he was kind enough to invite you along as a roadie when he got control of Motley Crue. Sure, a lot of it was packing and unpacking instruments and props, or picking up booze for the boys, but it would look great on your resume one day when you decided to make more of yourself. You were content where you were right now, and that was all because of the boys.  Mick, Nikki, Vince, and Tommy were hilarious, and getting to spend so much time with them was something other girls only dreamed of.  It wasn’t glamorous all the time that was for sure, but you still wouldn’t trade it for anything.  They made you laugh, you got to travel, and you got to learn the ropes of the business.  Besides, you were already used to holding people’s hair while they puked their guts out from your year or two in college.
              Usually you weren’t that worried when the Motley circus rolled into another town, but things had not been going over well with Elektra Records lately (and by things it meant the exceedingly expensive hotel and damage repair costs). You and Doc were very familiar with the insane partying habits of the band, but had been warned that if Motley Crue messed up so much as a single glass at their next hotel, they’d be out on the street again.  It was NOT going to be an easy task.  Doc had been massaging his temples all day on the bus, which was never a good sign.
              “Hey,” you said, coming over to him.  “We can handle this.”
              “God, I hope so,” he replied.  “Otherwise we’re screwed.”
              “Got any ideas on how we’re going to herd these cats?”
              “Well, if we can have a person assigned to each of them, then at least we’ve got eyes on them for the night.”
              “I was thinking of handcuffing them all to their beds by 7pm and calling it a night,” you chuckled, running a hand through your hair.  Doc laughed too, which seemed to relieve some of his nerves.
              “That’s not a bad idea actually,” he said.  
              “Something tells me they’re not going to be thrilled about it.  Why don’t we just tell them they can’t mess anything up tonight?”
              “You think I haven’t?” scoffed Doc.  “I’ve told them all individually at least three times, and as a group at least five.”
              “They’re probably not going to listen anyway,” you sighed, letting all the air leave your lungs for moment.  “Bunch of meatheads.”
              You and Doc exchanged defeated looks.  Tonight was going to be nothing short of a struggle for the both of you.
              “I think assigning someone to each of them is a pretty good idea thought. Any ideas of who’s getting paired with who yet?” you inquired.  Doc scratched the back of his head and looked over his shoulder at the four boys passed out in varies places in the bus.  Nikki was face down on the carpet with only one shoe on, Vince’s blond hair was peeking out from a pile of half-naked women no doubt completely naked himself, Mick was laying on the couch looking perfectly vampiric with his hands crossed over his chest, and Tommy was drooling on one of the tables.  
              “I’ll get Harry to watch Mick, since he’ll be the easiest to manage. Dom can handle Vince, I’ll take Nikki since I want to run some stuff by him tonight anyway, and I think I’ll leave Tommy with you.”
              “Me with Tommy?”
              “He’ll run over Harry, I can’t spare Dom, and besides, he listens to you best anyway,” Doc said, waving you off.  You frowned.
              “Since when does that happen?  None of them really listen to me even though I’ve been here pretty much since you’ve been in charge of them.”
              Doc sighed and said
              “Just trust me on this one, okay Y/N?”
              “Alright,” you agreed, putting your hands up in surrender.  “I’ll do my best to keep him under control.”
              “You had better or it’s all our asses on the line.”
                The tour bus finally pulled up in front of the hotel around 10pm, which meant the boys had had a couple hours to get back on their feet and down more booze. It was still early though, which meant you still had a hope of controlling them.  Doc had explained one more time before everyone got off the bus that if Motley Crue didn’t behave tonight, things with Elektra would be over. And to enforce this behavior, he had assigned the band their babysitters for the night.  Nikki was of course the first to start shouting, followed very shortly after by Vince and then Tommy.  Mick looked sulkier than usual but just shot daggers out of his eyes at Harry and made him promise he’d stay far, far away from the guitarist  while he worked out a few licks for tomorrow’s show.
              “You can’t be fucking serious!” shouted Nikki.  “We’re not damn five year olds!”
              “Stop acting like kindergarteners and maybe we wouldn’t have this problem, Nik.”
              “What the fuck are we supposed to do all night then?” inquired Vince, blond hair seeming to poof up even more due to his anger.  He looked like a scrawny blond cat.  
              “Work on your set for tomorrow, write some new songs, sober up, I don’t care, just don’t cause any mischief!” Doc snapped back.  The singer threw his hands in the air and cursed under his breath. Nikki was clearly looking for something to throw at Doc.
              “Fuck you, man,” snarled Tommy.
              “Hey, it’s one night guys, let it go,” you tried.  Only the drummer seemed to even hear you.
              “I’m going to be bored out of my fucking mind,” he groaned, sidling up next to you and abandoning his bandmates in their rant at Doc.  
              “Doc’s other idea was to handcuff all of you to your beds as soon as we got here, so be thankful he’s not doing that right now.”
              “Do we at least get booze still, or is this really turning into the No Fun Tour?”
              “I’ll buy you a few rounds at the bar but that’s it.”
              “How many is a few?”
              “Five.”
              “FIVE?” screeched Tommy.  “That’s nothing!  I won’t even be buzzed!”
              “It’s not my problem you have a high tolerance, now is it?”
              “I’m going to fucking die.”
              The drummer ran his hands through his long hair in frustration.  You chuckled.
              “You can handle one night of no booze, drummer.”
              “What the hell are we gonna do then?  It’s not like I can actually practice anything for tomorrow, they’re not going to let me bring my drums inside.”
              “We can watch TV or something, or I’m sure Doc will let you guys hang out for a while as long as you keep it down,” you suggested, waving a hand absently. He still didn’t look impressed, but didn’t argue with you anymore.  “Why don’t we go inside and find your room first before you start whining about something else.”
              And to that Tommy agreed, but only after you promised him a sixth drink.
                It was only three drinks in when he started bitching about Doc’s rules again.
              “Ah come on, Y/N, can’t we do anything fun tonight?  We could rent a car and cruise around or something, or hit up a gas-station, by some cigs, I dunno.”
              “Those all sound like potentially terrible ideas, Tommy.  Plus Doc doesn’t want us leaving here tonight.”
              “Doc can suck my dick,” the drummer muttered darkly under his breath.
              “He’s trying to keep you guys from fucking things up for yourselves. If Elektra drops you guys, it could be a while before we get another record deal and you guys are close to finishing another album.”
              “Nikki says we’re close, but Vince thinks most of the new record sucks,” confessed Tommy, motioning for the bar-tender to get his fourth drink.  
              “And what do you think?” you asked him, sipping your own drink and cocking an eyebrow at the drummer.  
              “I dunno, I just like getting to play new stuff.  I think it’s going to be an alright album.”
              “I didn’t realize Motley Crue settled for just ‘alright’,” you commented.
              “Ouch, I didn’t mean it like that.”
              “Kinda sounds like you did.”
              “It’s not done yet, I’m sure Nikki and Mick will figure some shit out and it’ll turn out great,” defended Tommy, tipping his head back to down the last of his fourth glass.  You motioned to the bartender that there would only be two more for Tommy.
              “You’re a really killjoy, you know that Y/N?”
              “Unfortunately it’s my job to take care of your sorry, drunken ass,” you shrugged.  
              “I can think of better ways you could be taking care of my ass.”
              “So could I, like calling it quits after four drinks and hand-cuffing you to your bed so you don’t cause any trouble tonight,” you smirked, taking another sip of your drink as Tommy gaped open-mouthed at you.
              “Fuck, you’re mean.”
              “Kinda your fault.”
              The two of you spent the next bit in relative silence while Tommy polished off his last two drinks.  Thanking and paying the bartender, you hopped off the bar stool and made for the elevator.
              “Come on Tommy,” you beckoned.  He gave you his best puppy-dog face and pout that really, really made your job difficult.  “Please.”
              “Fiiiiiinnne,” he whined, trailing after you and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.  You rolled your eyes.  It was going to be a long night.  Pressing the button in the elevator for the fourth floor, you stole a glance over at Tommy. Sometimes it was weird seeing them all without their stage get-up and makeup on.  He was just wearing jeans and long-sleeve shirt and for once in his life wasn’t stinking up the entire elevator.  They usually all smelled like booze, cocaine, piss, cigarettes, sweat, and hairspray.  You were thankful because at some point tonight you were going to be staying in the same room as him.  Doc had insisted all the babysitters not leave the band at any time.  Follow them into the bathroom (even you), stay in the same bedroom, etc.
              “Do you want to pop in and see Vince?” you asked, walking backwards to keep eye-contact with the drummer.
              “Sure,” he shrugged.  Walking down the hallway, you spotted Dom standing outside of Vince’s room.
              “Hey Y/N,” he greeted coolly.  Dom was never much for talking, and with his size he really didn’t need to be. No wonder Doc assigned him to the little blond singer.  
              “Hey Dom, mind if we say hi to Vince?” you asked.  He nodded and opened the door.  You couldn’t help but laugh out loud as soon as it opened wide enough for you to see inside.  Vince was dressed in a fuzzy bathrobe and slippers, with the TV remote in one hand, and his other hand-cuffed to the bed.
              “Don’t even fucking start,” the blond warned Tommy as the drummer followed you inside.  You and Tommy were beside yourselves with laughter.  Doubled over, it took over a minute before you composed yourself. Vince was right back to looking like a very pissed off cat.
              “Vinny-“ Tommy started, only to burst back into a fit of hysterics again. “Oh my god Y/N please tell me you have a camera.”
              With a malevolent grin, you slowly pulled your polaroid camera out of your purse.  You used it mostly to take pictures of the boys, even though your parents had gifted it to you before you left for LA to take pictures of your travels.  You had a whole collage back home in your apartment of pictures you’d taken, but since being on the road with Ozzy, you had taken to just shoving them in an envelope.  
              “Don’t you fucking dare!” shouted Vince, struggling against the handcuff and chucking the remote at Tommy as if that would stop you from taking the shot. You took it anyway.  Snatching it from the camera and waving it around, Tommy was still trying to keep from cackling.
              “Doc is so dead after tonight,” he chuckled.  
              “I was joking about the handcuffs, I didn’t think he’d take it so seriously,” you confessed to the singer.
              “This was your idea?!”
              “I said it as a joke!” you promised, lifting your hands in surrender and dodging the bible Vince had dug up from the night-table with his free hand.
              “Dude, quit throwing shit at Y/N,” Tommy said.
              “She got me into this fucking mess!”
              “It was a joke!”
              “DO I LOOK LIKE I’M JOKING RIGHT NOW?!  Tell Dom to get his ass back in here and uncuff me!” hissed Vince, desperately trying to get the cuff off with no success.  You glanced over at Tommy who was trying his hardest not to laugh again just like you were.
              “I’ll ask him,” you sighed.  “Come on Tommy, let’s go.”
              Closing the door behind you and muffling Vince’s swearing, you turned to Dom.
              “Vince wants you to uncuff him,” you said.
              “Yeah he’s pissed, man,” affirmed Tommy, standing behind you.
              “Not until he chills the fuck out,” Dom vowed, which made you and Tommy chuckle.
              “Probably a good idea.  Might want to give him the remote back though, he threw it at Tommy and the TV’s stuck on Brady Bunch reruns.”
              All three of you laughed for a moment before you grabbed Tommy’s arm and bid Dom farewell.
                “I loved The Brady Bunch as a kid,” Tommy commented, following after you down the hallway.
              “Me too.  That and Gilligan’s Island.”
              “Shit, yeah!  I could probably still sing you the whole song!”
              “Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale
              a tale of a fateful trip,
              that started from this tropic port,
              aboard this tiny ship.
              The mate was a mighty sailin' man,
              the Skipper brave and sure,
              five passengers set sail that day,
              for a three hour tour,
              a three hour tour.”
              You and Tommy burst into another fit of giggles as you finished singing.  
              “I wish you’d sing more,” you confessed, brushing your hair out of your face and unlocking the door to Tommy’s room.
              “Really?” he asked, giving the bed a few good bounces before flopping onto his back.
              “Yeah.”
              You tucked the room key safely in your bra where you knew Tommy didn’t have the balls to steal it from you, then shrugged off your jacket.  The drummer was quiet for a bit, just content with staring at the ceiling fan as you putzed around the room.  Drawing the curtains, grabbing two water bottles out of the mini-fridge, and turning on the TV, you sat down on the edge of the bed next to Tommy.
              “I’ll see if I can find a movie or something,” you said, flicking channels. Most of it was local news, and you stopped briefly on MTV where a brunette was talking bullshit about Motley Crue’s ‘Shout At The Devil’ album.  
              “They’re still going on about that?” asked Tommy, apparently paying more attention than you thought.
              “Guess so.”
              You flicked through more boring new channels, then stopped.
              “The ship's aground on the shore of this
              uncharted desert isle
              with Gilligan,
              the Skipper too.
              The millionaire and his wife,
              the movie star,
              the professor and Mary Ann,
              here on Gilligan's Isle.”
                They were playing Gilligan’s Island reruns too tonight apparently. Tommy kicked off his shoes and propped himself up against the headboard.
              “Keep it on this,” he said, waving a hand at you to stop flicking channels. You put the remote down and started digging in your pockets.
              “You better not have brought cuffs,” warned Tommy, hands out in front of him like he was ready for a fight.  You laughed.
              “No, I didn’t bring cuffs,” you promised him, pulling your wallet out of your pocket and depositing it on the chair next to the window.  You kicked your boots off onto the floor as well, then using your legs, you shimmied up further on the bed until you were leaning against the headboard too.  You were particularly thankful in this moment that Tommy didn’t smell like his usual self. You were still a good foot away from him thanks to the size of the bed, but none the less it was nice.  It didn’t hit you until the episode was over that there was no extra cot or couch for you to sleep on.
              You reached for the phone as the credits rolled.
              “I hope they’re doing a bunch more reruns,” Tommy commented, gesturing at the TV.  “Hey, who are you calling?”  
              “Doc didn’t get me a cot.”
              “Oh… shit.”
              “And there’s no couch,” you said, dialing Nikki’s room where you knew Doc was. There was some static on the line and a yelling that could only be Nikki before Doc’s voice came through.
              “Doc speaking.”
              “Hey Doc, it’s Y/N.  You didn’t have a cot sent up to Tommy’s room.”
              There was more crackling and you could hear Nikki laughing.  What a prick.
              “Sorry Y/N, Maggie probably forgot to call it in when she booked the hotel. Phone down to the desk and see if they can arrange something.  Nikki and I are in the middle of something with Mick, so if you need anything, call Dom.”
              With that and one more snicker from Nikki, Doc hung up.  Holding the button to end your call, then redialing the desk downstairs, another episode of Gilligan’s Island started.  
              “Hey, this is room 407, would you be able to send a cot up?” you asked.
              “I’m sorry ma’am, all our cots are currently rented out and it would be another $75 a night.  We can bring you some extra bedding if that would help.”
              You sighed.  This night just got more interesting.
              “Yes, if you can send that up that’d be great,” you said, thanking the receptionist and hanging up.  Sleeping on the floor after a long day on the road and babysitting Tommy was not how you wanted this evening to go.
              “They bringing you a cot?” asked the drummer.
              “Nope, apparently they’re all out.  Someone’s gonna bring up some extra bedding and I’ll sleep on the floor.”
              “Oooor you can stay up and watch Gilligan’s Island with me.”
              “Trust me, I wasn’t going to be nodding off any time soon.  Doc made me swear I wouldn’t go to sleep until I knew you were passed out,” you promised.  
              “That’s going to be a bit difficult considering you’ve cut me off from booze and anything else that would allow that to happen.  Looks like it’s gonna be an all-nighter!”
              Tommy raised his hand waiting for a high-five.  You just sighed and took up your position next to him at the head of the bed, leaving him hanging.
              “Can we at least order room service, I’m hungry.”
              “It’s late, but I can see what they’re bring us,” you agreed.  There was a menu next to the phone on the nightstand and you held it so Tommy could read.
              “Omelet looks good,” he pointed.
              “And it comes with bacon.  I think I’m gonna go with the grilled cheese.  Want anything else?”
              “Other than a Jack and Coke?  No.”
              “Fine.”
              You picked up the phone again and ordered.  The two of you were partway through another rerun of Gilligan’s Island when the food and extra bedding arrived, and it took another episode before you cleared the dished off the bed and dropped them outside.  Ditching your socks next to your boots this time, you crawled back onto the bed next to Tommy for another episode.
              You hadn’t watched Gilligan’s Island since you left for LA, and it looked like Tommy was enjoying watching it as much as you.  Before you knew it, the two of you were at least five or six episodes in, it was way past 2am, and you had sunken much further into bed.  As the credits rolled on yet another episode, Tommy finally got up.
              “I gotta go to the bathroom,” he said when you gave him a funny look.
              “That had be all you’re doing.”
              “Would you like to come in and watch?”
              “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
              It definitely wouldn’t be the first time.  You’d watched Motley Crue pee on all sorts of things, and after the first five times you got used to it.  As the drummer went into the bathroom, you got out of the bed too and stretched.  You loved the leather pants you were wearing, but they were by no means comfortable for lounging in and you wished you had worn something else.  Sleeping in them was going to be a bitch.  Meandering into the bathroom with Tommy, you examined yourself in the mirror.  Your hair had deflated a bit, but the small bit of makeup you had put on that morning was still intact and would last through the night if you needed it to.  It was really just your pants bothering you, and somehow Tommy noticed.
              “Those can’t be comfortable anymore,” he gestured, flushing and washing his hands.
              “It’s not like I have a choice,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair.
              “You could always take them off,” Tommy shrugged.  It would have appeared innocent if you hadn’t known him.
              “You’re a prick, you know that?” you snapped.
              “Ouch, that was uncalled for!”
              “I’m not taking my pants off!”
              “I was just making a suggestion, that way you’d be more comfortable,” Tommy said, raising his hands in surrender.
              “Does this normally work with girls?” you asked him.
              “Wha- no most girls aren’t wearing any pants by the time they get to me. So no.  Plus most girls are not you.”
              “You’re damn right,” you said, the both of you walking back to the bed. Another episode was already on and you were starting to wonder just how long these reruns were going to go on for. The longer they went, the less you had to worry about Tommy.  Climbing back onto the bed you cursed your morning self for picking these pants. Arms crossed, you leaned against the headboard while Tommy peeled his socks off.  And then his shirt.  You should have been used to him shirtless, you’d seen him like this a thousand times on stage, backstage, and throwing up in the back of the bus, but this was different somehow.  He was sober this time, and the way he did it was almost… graceful.  Shaking out his hair, he balled up the shirt and tossed it to the end of the bed.  Letting out a sigh, he flopped back onto the bed.
              “Is this the one episode with the totem pole thing?” he asked, glancing over at you.
              “Yeah,” you chuckled.  You recognized it too.  The two of you kept watching, quiet again.  Then Tommy spoke.
              “You seriously can’t be comfortable,” he said, back on the pants topic.
              “I can’t just take them off.”
              “You can borrow my shirt if you want,” the drummer offered, gesturing at the black ball of fabric at the end of the bed.  “It’s longer than the one you’ve got on if that’s what you’re worried about.”
              “Seriously?”
              “What, it is.”
              “No, not that.”
              “Then what?”
              “Now is the time you decide to be gentleman?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow at him.
              “Suffer in your stupid pants then.”
              “And there’s the prick I remember.”
              “Has anyone ever told you you’re really mean?” asked Tommy, turning to you and stretching his arms over his head.
              “It’s come up once or twice before, but never from a reliable source.”
              “Damn.  Y/N, the cold bitch who likes to suffer in her leather pants,” chuckled Tommy, christening you with a new title.  Snorting, you got off the bed.
              “Woah, hey, sorry.  Just not used to being sober, I say dumb stuff when I’m sober.”
              “That is totally not how it’s supposed to work,” you chided, untucking your shirt from your pants and making for the washroom.  Tommy watched you with curiosity and slight amusement as you grabbed his shirt from the foot of the bed and slammed the bathroom door.
              Letting out a breath and shaking your head at yourself in the mirror, you shimmied out of your pants and shirt.  You may have been cursing your morning self for wearing the leather pants, but you had picked out great underwear and your favourite bra.  You pulled Tommy’s shirt over your head and looked back at yourself in the mirror.  It was way longer than your shirt, which made sense.  The drummer was damn lanky, the thing went well past your butt. But the thing you noticed most was that it smelled like him.  Not booze and cigarettes and cocaine and whatever other shit he managed to find, but something else.  Something you couldn’t describe as anything other than just Tommy-smell.  You hated that this was what this night had come to. There was no way Tommy was every going to let this go.  Balling up your clothes, you stepped out of the bathroom.  You were expecting him to whistle or make some kind of joke while you chucked your clothes on the chair and crawled back on the bed, but he didn’t.
              “Better?” he asked finally, as if he had been absorbed in the TV and just noticed you.
              “Yeah,” you confessed, tugging the long sleeves over your hands.
              “Cool.”
              And that was all he said.  The two of you went back to being engrossed by the antics of Gilligan and Skipper. That is until about 4am when the reruns finally stopped and the TV switched to nothing but infomercials.
              Untangling yourself from the mess of blankets that had slowly started to form over the hours of TV you and Tommy had partaken in, you sifted through the extra bedding, preparing to set up on the floor.  You weren’t going to sleep yet, since Tommy wasn’t, but it didn’t hurt to be prepared.  
              “This is gonna fucking suck,” you muttered darkly under your breath as you laid down a couple of pillows.  
              “You could always sleep on the bed,” suggested Tommy as if it was the most normal thing in the world.  He was really trying to sell you on the innocent-puppy-dog thing today.
              “And you’ll sleep on the floor?” you raised an eyebrow.
              “Hell no I’m not sleeping on the floor.”
              “Then what, we’re just going to share?”
              “Well, yeah.”
              “No!”               “Why not?  How bad could it be?”
              “How bad?  Tommy, I know you!  I’ve already lost count of how many girls you’ve hooked up with on this tour, and that’s only the ones I’ve been unfortunate enough to have seen.  I’m not sleeping with you,” you snapped.  
              “You can like, put pillows between us or some shit.  Whatever you want.”
              “Seriously?  What is with you today?”
              “Uh, I’m sober?”
              “Other than that.  Why are you trying to peddle me this innocent nice guy crap?”
              “Am I not allowed to be nice to you?  Would you rather have me throwing the TV remote at you like Vince?” asked Tommy, looking genuinely annoyed with you for not believing him.  
              “No, but-“
              “But what?”
              “Fine,” you sighed in defeat.  “We’ll use the pillows.”
              Grabbing the extra bedding off the floor, Tommy helped you make the Great Wall of China out of pillows down the middle of the bed.  Hands on your hips, you scowled at Tommy.  He chuckled.
              “What?” you demanded.
              “I dunna, it’s just funny seeing you like this,” he confessed.  
              “Laugh now drummer, because it’s not happening again,” you assured him. Turning the TV off, you yawned. “Oh shit, did you want that on still?”
              “Naw.”
              “I don’t know what else we can do tonight, I’m sorry.”
              “I can think of a lot of things we can do tonight, but I’m sure you don’t want to hear them,” joked Tommy.
              “If those ideas go anything along the lines of ‘get wasted, get high as fuck, set fire to this hotel room, destroy three cars with nothing but a single line of cocaine and a girl’s bra, team up with Nikki to give herpes to an entire town, or stick your penis anywhere near me’ then no I do not want to hear them,” you confirmed, kneeling down on your half the bed.
              “Wow, you really do know me.”
              “I really do.  I know all of you.”
              Tommy unbuckled his belt nonchalantly and dropped it on the floor, his pants sinking just a little lower on his hips.  You found yourself staring a bit longer than you should have.  
               “Don’t get any more ideas, drummer.”
              He just chuckled again and pulled his pants off, one long leg at a time. Again, it wasn’t as if you hadn’t seen his chicken legs before.  You’d seen him butt-naked far more times than you’d like to have, but something about him not being wasted or high out of his mind and alone in a hotel room with you made it different.  Throwing back the sheets, Tommy flopped back into bed.
              “You’re going to sleep?” you asked, genuinely confused.  To him it probably wasn’t even that late.  The band stayed up to ungodly hours and therefore woke up sometime during the afternoon usually.  
              “I’m so fucking bored and there’s no more Gilligan’s Island, so yeah, gonna go to sleep and pass the time,” Tommy answered.  
              “You’re not fooling me, Lee.”
              “That’s because I’m not trying to; can you turn the light off?”
              “You’re serious?”
              “Yes, turn the goddamn light off.”
              Reluctantly you did as he asked and the room went dark.  There was still a little light from the signs outside coming in through the window, but you couldn’t make out much more than Tommy’s general outline on the other side of the Great Wall of China.
              “Are you really just gonna sit there and stare at me?” he asked.  “Because a) that’s really creepy, and b) it’s making me uncomfortable and it’s much harder to go to sleep.”
              “Sorry,” you muttered, crawling under the sheets too.  The Great Wall didn’t come all the way up to the head of the bed as it was just intended to stop body contact, and because you still needed to keep an eye on the pesky drummer.  Doc would kill you if you fell asleep first, so there was no way you were letting it happen.  Plus who knew what kind of shenanigans Tommy would get into if you somehow fell asleep on the job.
              Letting out a sigh, you let your eyes wander and adjust to the dark.  For now Tommy seemed genuine about going to sleep. His eyes were closed and his breathing mellow.  Hopefully it would last and you’d wake up tomorrow and everything would have gone smoothly. You could only hope the rest of the band would behave themselves too and things with Elektra would smooth over.  You listened as the clock slowly ticked, cars went by, and Tommy’s breathing eventually evolved into soft snoring.  He was actually asleep.  Which meant you could also finally close your eyes.  Letting your lids shut, it took all of ten seconds for you to nod off.
                You had no idea what time it was when you woke up, but it was still dark and you were freezing.  Rubbing your eyes, you peered around in the dark.  It was no wonder you were cold, all the blankets had been pulled to Tommy’s side of the bed.  Grumbling to yourself, you tried to pull at least one of them back over to your side but to no avail.  
              “Fuckin’ drummer,” you muttered, trying once more in vain to rescue one of the blankets.  Swearing under your breath and cursing yourself, you broke down the Great Wall. If Tommy wouldn’t let go of the blankets, then there was only one thing you could do.  Even your very sleep-addled brain recognized this as a bad idea, but you did it anyway.  Pulling at the corner of the blankets just enough to get under, you wiggled under and up against Tommy.  Between the blankets and the drummer’s body heat, you were finally warm again. Nestling your head into his shoulder and closed your eyes and fell asleep again, though somewhere in the back of your mind there was a little voice screaming about never living this down as long as you lived.  
                It was the phone that woke you up.  Blearily looking around, the clock read 12:47pm.  Reaching for the phone, you were stopped by an arm around your waist and a groan.
              “Fuck,” Tommy mumbled.  Wriggling, you managed to reach the phone.
              “Hullo?” you anwered.
              “Y/N, it’s past noon, we need to get the boys back on the bus in an hour so they can go to their interview.  Think you can manage?”
              It was Doc.
              “Yeah.”
              “Good, we’ll see you back on the bus then,” Doc said before hanging up. You nearly dropped the phone putting it back.  You were still mostly asleep, curled up under the blankets all warm and – holy shit – in Tommy’s arms.  You were about to get mad at him until you remembered that it was your dumbass that got under the covers with him.  Fuck.
              “Was that Doc?” asked the drummer, voice laced with sleep.
              “Mmh,” you said.  “He wants us back on the bus in an hour.”
              “Fuuuuck but I’m so cozy.  And you smell nice.”
              You didn’t want to, but you could feel yourself blushing.  You hated how nice this felt; to wake up in Tommy’s arms.
              “You’re probably smelling your own damn shirt, which I washed,” you argued, pulling the blankets back around you.
              “Can you just take a damn compliment for once,” Tommy said into your back.  His forehead was resting against your shoulder and his arms wrapped around your middle.  
              “You don’t smell half-bad today yourself,” you replied quietly.  So quiet you weren’t sure he heard it, but then he squeezed you gently.
              “This is so fuckin’ nice,” he said.  “I don’t think I’ve slept this good… ever.”
              “We can’t get too comfy, Doc needs us in an hour,” you lamented.  But as much as you tried to convince yourself to get free or Tommy’s arms, you couldn’t do it.  The two of you almost fell back asleep.  By the time you finally crawled out of bed, you only have 10 minutes to get ready and down the bus.
                “Well last night totally sucked,” grumbled Mick, his usual moody self. Nikki and Vince looked like total shit so you had to agree with the guitarist.
              “Worst fucking sleep of my life,” Nikki growled.  “Try having Doc stand over you like some fuckin’ gargoyle.”
              “Try being handcuffed all night!” said Vince, rubbing his wrist and glaring at Dom.  You were surprised Vince hadn’t tried taking a stab at the guy yet, or Doc.  
              Tommy on the other hand looked as giddy as a golden retriever on a morning walk.
              “The fuck’s with you?” asked Nikki, giving him a look.  “And why the fuck is Y/N wearing your shirt?”
              You opened your mouth, ready to deny absolutely everything or hurl insults until they forgot anything ever happened, but Tommy spoke first.
              “Y/N got ketchup on her shirt so I let her borrow mine,” he explained. You nodded a little too aggressively because Mick gave you a funny look.
              “That doesn’t explain your happy-go-lucky attitude,” Vince pushed.  
              “We watched a shit-load of Gilligan’s Island yesterday man.”
              “Dude!  That shit’s real!”
              You let out a sigh as the band started going on a tangent about Gilligan’s Island, forgetting all about you.  You were about to head onto the bus and clean up a bit, but just as you were going up the stair Tommy caught you eye.
              “Thank you,” you mouthed to him.
              “You owe me,” he mouthed back and winked.
              And just like that you knew that wasn’t going to be the last time you woke up in the drummer’s arms.
***
Wow that ended up being so much longer than I thought it was going to be.  I’m hoping to do more one-shot stuff, particularly for The Dirt.  Requests are open, and let me know if you want me to tag you in anything.
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a-and-mtrashpile · 5 years
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I Promise: A Nikki Sixx Imagine
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*Not my gif*
Anon requested: If you're taking requests for the Netflix movie The Dirt, can I get a Nikki Sixx one-shot where the reader's a singer but a solo artist instead of in a band and she's been Nikki's girlfriend since he was in his band London and he forms Mötley Crüe and the band becomes famous and the reader becomes famous too and she drinks but doesn't do drugs and then Nikki overdoses on heroin like in the movie and it's a mix of angst and fluff?
A/N: I’m so heckin sorry this took so long to do, I’ve just been super busy and stressed~ Doing schoolwork from the time you get up to the time you go to bed gets to be a little much on someone, but enough about my problems, I hope you enjoy the story!
*I'm gonna use Joan Jett's music cause I love her more than I should and she's a pretty safe bet so just pretend that she doesn't exist and you wrote the songs ok did that even make sense*
Once you took out one of your ear pieces, your smile grew. The crowd was screaming back every word that you sang and it was one of the best feelings ever. "How are you guys doing tonight?" You asked into the mic when the song was over.
A small chuckle escaped your mouth when they screamed back, the majority of it being an incoherent mess. "Well, that sounds good. This one is called Bad Reputation." The crowd's loud scream almost took over the room as you started the song, making you almost lose your place in the song.
When the song ended, you quickly grabbed the nearest water bottle and downed half of it, your guitarist chuckling as he entertained the crowd. You looked over to the side of the stage, waving to Nikki as he laughed at you running around the stage.
"Alright guys, thank you so much for coming out and seeing us! I love you all so much, goodnight!" You bowed before running off stage, instantly pulling Nikki into a sweaty hug. "Oh, please don't. Please stop touching me," he mumbled, trying to get away from you. "Don't pull that shit with me, you give me nasty sweaty hugs all the time," you sassed, holding him even tighter.
He laughed before hugging you back and giving you a quick kiss, leading you to the green room to get your stuff. "How's tour so far?" You asked, grabbing the bag you brought into the venue. "Fucking amazing. Like, the crowds are absolutely nuts man. Nothing compares to looking down and seeing the fans singing your songs back to you." You smiled as Nikki went on about the tour, the two of you walking out to the waiting cab that was going to take you to the hotel you were staying at.
After you took a quick shower, you crawled in to bed next to Nikki. He instantly pulled you close and kissed the top of your head. "Sometimes it's so hard to think how we met at London's first show and we've been together ever since," you mumbled into Nikki's chest as you held onto him.
"It's insane. Like, I remember when I first met you and was instantly drawn to you. I love you so much babe," Nikki said as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer.
                                                 ----------------------
You thanked Nikki as he handed you another drink, taking a sip out of it before following him back over to Tommy and Vince. He pulled you into his lap as he sat down on the couch, continuing the conversation he was having with the boys. "Dude! Oh my god, that girl I had in my room last night was fucking crazy! She was a straight-up freak like she did thi-" "T-Bone, not in front of (Y/N)," Nikki quickly shot daggers at the boy as he instantly shut up, rolling his eyes before getting up and walking off since Vince was busying himself with the girl next to him.
"Sixx! You sleazy mother fucker! Get over here!" Some guy you didn't know yelled as your boyfriend smiled, moving you next to him so he could walk away. A soft sigh escaped your mouth before you downed the drink, trying to prepare yourself for the rest of the party.
About ten drinks later, a pair of some dudes shoes being ruined, and a table dance later, you finally found Nikki again. "Baby! I finally found you, you sneaky little guy you," you slurred as you crashed into him, his arms instantly catching you. It's obvious he was high, but not nearly as out of it as you were.
"Let's go home, you're fucking trashed," he said, helping you stand. "No! I want to go dance, come dance with me. Ha, get it. Come on and dance," Nikki cracked a smile at your joke before shaking his head, leading you to the door. "Nikkiiiiiii, I want to danceeeee," you whined, fighting back.
He shook his head again, still leading you to the front door. You started getting irritated, thinking about why you were even at the party. "You know, you drag me to all these lame-ass parties and I can't even have fun without you being a fucking buzzkill." "Babe, stop talking before you say something stupid. Now let's go home."
"No, you know what Sixx, fuck you. I've been trying so hard to make you happy and be the girl you want but you make it so fucking hard. I come to these parties with you and I watch you slowly kill yourself with all the drugs and stupid shit you do and I'm just supposed to sit back and be the good little girlfriend. I'm fucking sick of it.
One day this is gonna fucking kill you and all I'm gonna be able to say at your funeral is I to-" "Shut up. Just fucking stop talking," Nikki snapped, the two of you finally outside. Those six words almost instantly sobered you up and you became even more furious.
You instantly pulled away from him, still slightly unstable but stable enough to stand on your own. "You're telling me to shut up Nikki? Are you fucking kidding me? I've wasted so many fucking years dealing with you and your shit and I'm fucking over it. I'm sick of the bullshit that comes along with all the drugs and the money, it's so fuc-" "Oh, you mean the money that got you your last record deal?" Nikki yelled, causing people to slowly start swarming outside.
A small chuckled escaped your mouth as you walked over to him, getting in his face. "Fuck you Nikki Sixx. Never fucking talk to me ever again."
Before he could say anything, you turned around and started walking down the street.
                                                   --------------------
"Hey mom, where is the milk?" "Oh, we don't have any. I just sent your father to the store to get some," she shouted from the dining room, changing the table cloth and fixing the centerpiece. You nodded before shutting the fridge, deciding to ditch the coffee in your mug for a cup of water.
When you made your way back into the living room, your mom had sat down on the couch with the news pulled up. "Turn it up," you mumbled as you heard them talking about Motley Crue. She quickly did, keeping her eyes on the screen.
"It's a sad night for rock and roll, we've just received unconfirmed reports that Motley Crue bassist Nikki Sixx has died in Hollywood the evening of an apparent drug overdose." Tears instantly flooded your eyes as you set the cup on the coffee table, your mind going a thousand miles a minute.
Before your mother could react, you quickly made your way to your room, locking the door so no one could get in. The tears didn't stop streaming down your face, the room slowly crushing down on you.
Suddenly, you got the urge to go to his house. There was no way this could be real. There is no way he was actually dead. "(Y/N), sweetheart ple-wait, where are you going?" Your mother tried following you out of the house but was stopped by your father, the two of them watching you drive off.
When you got to Nikki's house, you didn't even shut bother to shut off your car before you walked into the house. Everything was exactly where it was when you lived together, it looked like nothing had been touched.
As you stared at the broken picture of the two of you, you didn't even hear the front door open and close. Nikki stood there like a zombie as he watched you, tears streaming down his face. "God, Nikki. You fucking idiot," you whispered as you ran your fingers over the broken frame.
"I know, and I'm so sorry." A scream came out of your mouth as you whipped around, more tears streaming down your face. You slowly walked over to him, lightly holding his face in your hands. "Oh my god, you're not dead," you whispered before pulling him into a tight hug.
His arms slowly wrapped around you, Nikki leaning into you for support. "Please promise me you'll get clean, I can't lose you ever again," you mumbled into him, tears still streaming down your face. "I promise baby, I promise."
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nothing happened ~ daniel webber
word count: 3173
request?: yes!
@kellysimagines “I was wondering if you could make a Daniel webber one where the reader Works on the set of The Dirt where i do the hair and make up and they like eachother and everyone knows that and another girl who Works there is also all over him all the time but he doesnt like her and when she sees me coming over she speaks out loud that she had fun the night before but nothing happened and Daniel sees me and wants to explain but i dont believe him and i ignore him when i am on set and when i am cleaning the boys lock him up in the trailer where i am in to talk it out and he explains everything and i believe him and we make up and get together? X”
description: in which the hair and makeup artist falls for the actor who’s playing vince neil, but there’s one incredibly annoying obstacle standing in their way
pairing: daniel webber x female!reader
warnings: swearing, brokenhearted-ness (if you count that as a warning)
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Your big break as a makeup artist was for the Motley Crue biopic, and you could not be any more excited. You were a massive Motley Crue fan, not to mention being able to practice your makeup skills.
On your first day, you were trying to cover all of Machine Gun Kelly’s tattoos, a task that was taking much longer than you anticipated, and trying to reapply Tommy Lee’s tattoos when the door to the trailer opened.
“Hey is this the hair and makeup trailer?” asked an Australian accent. You looked over your shoulder to see an attractive man standing at the door. He smiled at you and extended his hand. “Sorry, I should introduce myself, I’m Daniel. I play Vince.”
“Nice to meet you,” you say, shaking his hand. “I’m (Y/N), I’m the makeup girl.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” he said. “So, how much time do you have left with this asshole?”
“Shut the fuck up, man,” Colson responded, turning around to try and hit Daniel.
“Hey, no!” you laughed, grabbing him and making him sit back down. “The cover up is still drying, if you move the wrong way you’ll leave cracks and shit. Sit your ass down.” You turned back to Daniel to respond, “I’m just finishing his cover up and applying his tattoos. If you want, you can sit and wait for your hair to be done. The hairdresser should be here soon.”
Daniel nodded and sat himself in a chair next to Colson. You couldn’t help but sneak a peak at him through the mirror as he took his phone out and started looking at social media to pass the time. To say he was cute was an understatement. He was far too attractive for words! When he had smiled earlier you were shocked that you didn’t pass out right then and there. You were having a hard time trying to concentrate on finishing Colson’s makeup with him there.
By the time you sent Colson on his way and were ready for Daniel, the hairdresser, Rita, noisily kicked the door open and walked into the trailer. Immediately, you were slightly annoyed with her. She was nearly an hour late to work, all the guys needed their hair done, meaning their wigs had to be fitted and worked on, and filming started in the next 20 minutes. You were so serious about this job, wanting to be taken seriously and to get more jobs like this on future television and movie sets, you couldn’t imagine just showing up late and kicking in the damn door like you owned the place.
Instead of saying anything, you smiled at her. “Hi there! You must be Rita, I’m (Y/N) - ”
“Cool,” she said, dismissing your introduction with a wave of her hand. She spotted Daniel and a sly smirk spread across her face. “And who are you?”
Daniel smiled, although it didn’t seem as genuine as it had with you. “I’m Daniel, I’m playing Vince.”
“Ah, I don’t know who that is. I know nothing about Motley Crue,” she said with a shrug. “But it’s nice to meet you! Sit your cute butt down, I’ll work on your hair.”
Daniel looked at her then back to you. “Actually, (Y/N) is about to do my makeup.”
Rite sent you a dirty look. “She can do that later, she has like a million other people to do makeup for first I’m sure.”
“Actually, I have everyone else’s makeup done already,” you said, trying not to let your annoyance show. “I was here on time, so I got through everyone else. You can do the other guys’ hair while I do Daniel’s makeup though, if you want. I just sent the actor playing Tommy Lee out when you walked in, he can’t be gone that far yet.”
Rita glared at you and huffed a heavy sigh. “Why don’t you go round up whoever I need to do hair for and bring them back so I can do it while I do Daniel’s hair?”
You realized there was no use in arguing with her, so you sighed and agreed. Rita smiled in triumph and smiled at Daniel, putting a hand on his shoulder and practically shoving him back into her chair. He looked at you through the mirror and you could almost see him begging you to stay with his eyes.
You went to round up Colson, Douglas, and Iwan and brought them back to the trailer. They all agreed it was extremely stupid for you to have to come get them, but what else were you guys to do? It was only the first day, so it wasn’t like Rita was going to get fired or anything yet. If she continued to act this way, maybe, but that depended on how well her hairdressing skills were.
When you arrived back to the trailer, Rita was laughing obnoxiously hard at something that Daniel said, and he was smiling awkward at it in return. When he saw you walk in, he nearly came out of his seat with relief, but remained still until Rita finished with his wig.
“There baby, you’re all done,” she said in a sickenly sweet voice. To you, she said, “Try not to mess up his pretty face too bad with your makeup there (Y/N).”
Your face burned red and your hands curled into fists. You had to do everything in your power not to knock her on her ass.
Daniel moved to your chair and you started with his makeup. It wasn’t anything extreme for him like it was with Colson, you just needed to put a bit of foundation on so he didn’t look shiny, and some eyeliner around his eyes and black makeup on his face, as they were filming a performance scene.
Rita eyed the other guys with less enthusiasm as she had given Daniel. “What did she do to you guys?”
“Seriously?” Douglas questioned. “This is what Motley Crue looked like when they used to perform.”
“She doesn’t know who Motley Crue is,” Daniel responded.
“Even if she did, I don’t blame her for not knowing. They didn’t have the makeup done on their last show,” you responded.
Daniel looked up at you. “You saw their last show?”
“Hell yeah I did!” you responded. “I love Motley Crue! When they announced that they weren’t doing shows anymore, I saved up for months to be able to go. Front row seats, got to see them up close and personal one last time.”
As you continued to do his makeup, you both continued to talk and laugh. You almost wanted to prolong doing the finishing touches, but the director came to the door to alert you guys that it was almost time to start filming, so you knew you had to let him go. Rita, finally, finished doing Iwan’s hair and the group left to hurry to seat.
You started cleaning up your section when Rita spoke. “I think he’s into me.”
“Which one?” you asked, although you were fully aware of who she meant.
“Daniel,” she responded. “He was giving me those signs, you know? He totally wants to get with me. Maybe I’ll let him.”
You decided not to say what you were really thinking about that. Of course he wasn’t into her or wanted to “get with her”. He seemed completely repulsed by her! All the guys did! But she obviously lived in some fantasy world where she believed that that was his form of flirting.
You decided to ignore her and to continue cleaning up your section. Suddenly, she got very close to you. You looked at her in confusion and moved away a little bit.
“I know you think that him being all friendly and shit with you probably makes you think he’s trying to flirt with you, but you are so wrong,” she sneered. “He just pities you. Poor girl from a shit town in the middle of nowhere getting her first job on a Hollywood movie set.”
“I’m from Los Angeles,” you told her.
“Doesn’t matter!” she snapped. “Stay the fuck away from Daniel, okay? Or we’ll have a problem.”
“We already have a problem,” you retorted. “And that’s that you are super unprofessional. You were an hour late today, you kept me from finishing my job just because you’re trying to jump one of the lead actor’s bones, and now you’re threatening me because you think you have a chance with Daniel. Newsflash honey, no one wants to get with a bitch. So either start acting professional and leave me the fuck alone, or I’ll go to the director and let him know how unprofessional you are. And the guys will back me up I’m sure.”
You shoved past her, leaving her screaming insults and profanities at you, but you could care less. Yeah, you thought Daniel was cute and all, but your primary focus here wasn’t trying to sleep with someone, it was to prove that you were a real makeup artist and that you could make it in Hollywood. If Rita wanted to play that game, you had no problem playing right back.
~~~~~~
Weeks passed as you got further and further into filming. Rita became more and more unbearable. She’d continue to come in to work late, but claim every day that it was “car issues” (”Maybe she should get her fucking car fixed,” Douglas whispered to you one morning). The director bought it every time, continuously giving her a “pass” because she was “a damn good hairdresser that we can’t lose”, his exact words.
When it came to the two of you, she became much more awful. She’d insult you any moment she got, whether you were alone or people were with you she didn’t care. She started coming to work in very tight and revealing clothing, and would make sure she’d move in ways that showed off her cleavage when Daniel was getting his hair done. He started bringing his phone with him to her chair so he wouldn’t have to look at her.
Meanwhile, he’d be the first one in your chair every morning, making sure he was there before Rita showed up. He always entered the trailer with a wide smile and you both talked the whole time he was in the seat. He’d even linger sometimes until another cast member arrived and had to get their makeup done, but even then he’d hang out in the trailer for a long time. When Colson confronted him about it once, he said simply, “I’m just enjoying (Y/N)’s company.”
One day, you got the chance to watch the guys film on set. You had been alone in the trailer, Rita having gone God knows were, so you finished cleaning your station before making your way to set. Unsurprisingly, Rita had beat you there and was all over Daniel. You rolled your eyes, she really didn’t get the damn message.
Over his shoulder, Rita spotted you and a smirk appeared on her face. Loud enough for you to hear, she declared, “You know Danny, I had a lot of fun last night.”
You stopped in your tracks. Daniel hadn’t told you he had met up with Rita last night. Not that it was something he had to tell you or anything. You were just shocked that it hadn’t come up, especially since he told you almost every day how uncomfortable and pissed off Rita made him.
“Oh, uh yeah, it was pretty nice I guess,” he responded, taken back by the comment.
“We’ll have to go out for drinks more often,” Rita continued, putting a hand on his arm in a flirty manner.
“I mean, I guess,” Daniel shrugged.
You felt a lump form in your throat. So after all this time, Daniel really had liked her. Maybe you were wrong in saying he was disgusted by her. It was probably an act from the start, so that you wouldn’t know and feel hurt.
Rita looked over Daniel’s shoulder again and smiled at you. “Oh hey (Y/N)!”
Daniel quickly turned around, his eyes widening when he saw you standing there. “(Y/N), how long - ?”
“Long enough,” you responded. “You know, you both belong together. You're both heartless assholes.”
You turned and started walked away, the tears finally starting to run down your cheeks. Daniel quickly ran after you, grabbing on to your arm trying to stop you. “Wait, (Y/N), it’s not what it sounds like.”
“You don’t have to explain anything,” you said to him. “I’m just your makeup artist, right? I’m not your girlfriend or anything. I don’t care who you want to go out with, but the fact that you had the audacity to pretend like you didn’t like her when you were with me, whatever that was about or that was for...it was low.”
You yanked your arm away from Daniel and raced back to your trailer, tears racing down your face.
~~~~~~~~
The following week was tense. Daniel would come in and be the first person in your chair, as per usual. At first, he tried to talk to you, to explain himself, but you continued to ignore him. At one point, you started wearing headphones and would work with music playing, not speaking to anyone, especially not Daniel or Rita.
Rita was in her glee, as if she had just won some huge prestigious award or something. She walked into work with her head high and her chest out. She’d happily babble on to Daniel, who would just watch her work in the mirror and not say a word. Even with your headphones in, you could hear her throwing you insults every now and then. You couldn’t be bothered the care anymore, she was obviously right.
After another long day, you were left with the task of cleaning the whole hair and makeup trailer. After finishing the guys’ hair for the day, Rita took off without cleaning her station, leaving you to do it. You were getting seriously pissed off with her, and thanked God that filming would be over in a matter of days.
You were finishing cleaning your brushes when you heard the trailer door open. You turned to see Daniel walk in and you gave him the worst death glare you could muster.
“You wanted to see me?” he asked.
“No,” you responded. “Who the fuck told you that?”
“There was a letter left in my trailer,” he responded. “Meet me in the hair and makeup trailer, we need to talk. You didn’t leave it?”
“No, I haven’t even been to set today,” you responded.
Suddenly, the trailer door swung shut and the sound of the lock turning could be heard. Daniel tried the knob but it wouldn’t budge. You went to the window and saw Colson, Iwan, and Douglas standing around, Douglas holding the trailer key in his hand.
“What the fuck guys?” you snapped.
“We’re sick of this cold shit between the two of you,” Iwan said. “Now, you guys are gonna stay in there until you figure your shit out, then we’ll let you go.”
You rolled your eyes. Daniel came up beside you. “Come on guys, just let us out.”
“You heard the terms, man,” Colson said. “Get to making up!”
You shut the window with so much force you thought you broke it, and honestly you wished you had. You didn't want to be here right now, you didn’t want to hear what Daniel had to say. You knew all you needed to know, and you didn’t want to hear it from his point of view.
You turned back to continue your cleaning, completely ignoring Daniel. He stood by the door, his arms crossed as he looked at you. “So you’re not even gonna try to listen to me?”
“Nope,” you responded. You patted your pockets for your headphones and realized you didn’t have them. They were in your bag, which was right next to Daniel. Upon seeing this, he quickly grabbed them and shoved them in his pocket. “Okay fine, say whatever you have to say, but it doesn’t mean I have to believe you, or really care.”
“I didn’t go out for drinks with Rita,” he insisted. “Really, (Y/N), you have to believe me. I went out with the guys, and when I went to get us more drinks she was at the bar. She ambushed me, wouldn’t let me leave. She talked my ear off for a solid hour before Douglas came and saved my ass. I tried to get away so many times, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. When she said that shit the other day and upset you, I finally cracked. I told her to fuck off, that I’d never be interested in someone as awful as her. Obviously, she hasn’t truly gotten the message because she’s still trying to get with me, but there’s only so much I can do about that.” He approached you and took your hands in his. You actually let him, too, which surprised even you. “You have to believe me, there’s nothing going on between us. And there never will be.”
You looked down at the floor. “But why?”
“What do you mean why?”
“Why wouldn’t you want to be with a girl like Rita?” you questioned. “She’s drop dead gorgeous, has the nicest tits of any woman I’ve ever seen, has confidence and sex appeal coming out of her ass. Even if you don’t want to be in a relationship with her, why wouldn’t you want to even fuck her? Just once?”
Daniel looked at you in shock. “Because I have no feelings for her. (Y/N), I like you, how could you not see that?”
You scoffed and pulled your hands away. “How could you like someone like me compared to someone like Rita? Or any of those beautiful girls that you’re making out with or getting to see naked on set? I’m so plain, Daniel. I’m just a makeup artist.”
“Why do you assume I want some trashy bimbo like Rita? Or any of the girls on set just beautiful they’re supposedly gorgeous?” he questioned. “It’s not about looks, but even if it was solely that, I’d pick you over any of those girls any day. (Y/N), you are the most amazing girl I have ever met, I want to be with you and only you.”
Tears were forming in your eyes as you asked, “Really?”
Daniel chuckled. “Yes really. Please, can we just start all over? I’ll take you out on a proper date, no bitchy hairdressers, no stressing over work and stuff. Just the two of us, together.”
You nodded excitedly and wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, causing him to laugh again.
The boys let you both out of the trailer and celebrated your and Daniel’s reconciliation, and come the following day, you both had the pleasure of giving Rita her pink slip.
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Weekend Sleepover
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Hey guys! I decided to make our weekly sleepover an actual thing on Weekends and lay down some rules and information!
“What can we request and talk about during sleepover?”
You can request anything from the prompts posted before this sleepover post. Make sure you send which list its from and what character.
You can request ships. But please make sure you give me enough details and your sexuality to do so. You also need to list the fandom or multiple fandom’s you would like. I don’t do self-shipping requests.
Head-canon's. Please send in a small head-canon or my opinion on how the character/multiple characters would react to a certain situation.
Tell me about your day.
Ask me self ship questions, tell me about your self ship.
Ask me about my novel I’m writing. Or any writing projects you also have.
And please refer to my fandom list bellow for who you can request at this time.
Fandom List
   Star Wars
Prequel, Sequel and Original
( Will not write headcanon’s on specific relationship dynamics such has Girl x Girl and Male x Male. I like being super neutral so unless it’s a ship, please don’t ask.)
Adam Driver
Finally watched Logan Lucky, and I’m going to watch Paterson again this weekend, so feel free to request them, as well as;
Flip Zimmerman
Charlie Barber 
Kylo Ren
Ben Solo ( Every Ben fic will have a read more option, as I am aware that a lot of my followers don’t support this aspect of canon, which I respect very much. I still write for Ben though, as I don’t mind the canon.)
Bohemian Rhapsody and Queen
All Members and Actors, Freddie will be excluded from Romantic pairings due to his sexuality, unless otherwise asked and explained. I also write Joe Mazello’s Character list. So if you have a particular Character of his that you like, please say so in your request.
The Dirt and Motley Crue
 No Underlying explanations for this one. Will tag everything with heavy trigger warning though.
Hunters 
Only doing Jonah Heidlebaum and Lonny Flash for now. If I get requests for anyone else, I will also consider writing for them.
The Beatles
Other ;
Jareth from the Labyrinth 
And that’s it guys! Have fun requesting!
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the--blackdahlia · 5 years
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Too Young to Fall in Love Chapter 41 (Dirt!Nikki x Reader)
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Title: Too Young to Fall in Love 41
Summary: Nikki Sixx was a hard partying musician on the strip. He never expected to fall in love with anyone, until a girl knocked on his dressing room door looking for a ride home and took his breath away. Just like everything else Nikki did; the drugs, the money, the music; Nikki went hard with love. (Y/n) Bass never expected the bassist of Motley Crue to be the one to shake her calm and calculated life up. She had a plan. Graduate school, become an epic producer, and watch from behind the scenes as her brother’s band rose to fame. Nikki and (Y/n) were perfect for each other, too bad her brother, Tommy, didn’t think so.
Series warnings:  Smut (18+ Please), drug use, language, referenced miscarriage, drug overdose, mentioned attempted suicide, out of character moments for everyone in the band, the timeline might be a little screwy but it’s fanfiction! I know nothing of music production and my medical knowledge is really screwy, so it won’t be accurate.
1995
Nikki sighed, he and (Y/n) had been together for two years now. He and Tommy had barely spoken. Last he heard he was with a porn star. Mick and Nikki were in the studio and John was going over some things.
“I’ve been thinking,” Nikki told Mick.
“That’s never a good thing.” Mick chuckled. “Thinking about firing John?” He nodded towards the singer, who was working on the EP. The self titled album had been a let down, and there had been talks that Elektra was going to let go of Motley Crue.
Nikki took the engagement ring out of his pocket. “I’ve been holding onto this since 1985?” he tried to remember. “I’m thinking about just giving her a new one… fresh start.” he smiled softly. “I think we’re ready this time… at least I hope we are.”
“You’re ready for that?” Mick asked. “Well look at you, moving closer up to cheetah.” Mick smiled. “And I'm sure she’ll say yes. This time though, maybe she won’t be kidnapped by Tommy right afterwards.”
“Yeah,” Nikki sighed and put the ring away. “I just, maybe I should wait one more year?” Nikki got up to pack up his bass. “Have you heard from Tommy?”
“No.” Mick shrugged. “He’s been really weird since he got with that new wife of his.”
“Yeah,” Nikki sighed. “I’ll see if (Y/n) can contact Athena and find out what’s going on.”
“She been doing better since she left New York?” Mick asked. “And I’m still looking for that notebook. I know it’s been awhile…”
“Yeah, at least I think she is…. I hope I’m making her happy.” Nikki shook his head. “Thanks for looking for it though. I gave her my rehab journal. She read my vows.”
“Is that what started all of this? Or was Tommy being an asshole again?” Mick asked.
“A bit of both.” Nikki walked out of the studio with Mick as a man in a suit came up to them. “Can we help you?”
“I’m David Easton, lawyer for one Thomas Lee Bass.” He presented a letter to Mick and Nikki. “Mr. Lee has dissolved his contact with Elektra and the band Motley Crue. He will not be returning.”
“What?” Nikki looked at Mick and and the letter they were handed.
“It is laid out there. He has requested to have his person removed from any contracts involving Elektra records and be moved to MCA. He is requesting to be under the care of a producer named (Y/n) Bass. We are waiting for her response, but as of now, there is no more Mr. Lee at Elektra records.”
Nikki and Mick watched as the lawyer walked away and sighed. “Well looks like the Crue is dead… great…” Nikki sighed and walked out of the building with Mick.
“He really has the balls to ask (Y/n) to produce him after everything he’s done to her?”
“I don’t know Mick, but I guess I’ll find out when I get home,” Nikki sighed and made his way home. He heard (Y/n) yelling as he made his way inside.
“You think after everything that he’s said and done to me that I’ll produce him!” (Y/n) yelled as she paced with the phone to her ear. “I don’t care if he’s my brother!”
Nikki winced when he heard (Y/n)’s angry voice. He bent down and pet Ziggy as he walked into the small office they set aside for her. He waved and blew her a kiss before walking to his bass room to put away his bass. As soon as he left the room though the house phone began to ring.
“Sixx,” he said and rubbed his eyes.
“Nik? It’s Nessa,” she sniffled. “Is (Y/n) busy?”
“Sorry Ness, she’s dealing with MCA right now… are you ok?” Nikki stood a little straighter.  
“I...you know Skylar, Vince’s daughter?” Vanessa whispered. Nikki and (Y/n) had went to her birthday party and she had absolutely adored (Y/n). It was mama Nessa and Auntie (Y/n) to Skylar.
“Yeah? What about her?” Nikki asked.
“She’s um… she’s in the hospital… and they said it was cancer….” Vanessa’s voice broke. “Vince and I have been going back and forth and I know you guys are busy but…. I really need her Nik.”
*********
MCA two months later.
Tommy’s knee bounced as he waited for (Y/n). They had finally convinced her to represent Tommy and he was a nervous wreck. Finally, (Y/n) came out of her meeting and sighed.
“Come on Tommy. Let’s get you in the studio.” She sighed.
“Thanks for doing this (Y/n/n) I don’t trust anyone else to produce me here.” Tommy gave her a soft smile. “You look good.”  
“Thanks.” She offered him a smile. “Ready? Your band ready?”
“Yeah,” Tommy smiled as he got the band ready and sat on the drums. He counted them off as they began to play.
I don't make everyone happy
Well it's ok (it's ok)
And it's ok (it's ok)
I've been through this before
It's nothin' new (it's nothin' new)
It's nothin' new (it's nothin' new)
“That...that sounds familiar.” (Y/n) said, watching her brother. “What is that?” She noticed him reading the lyrics off of something. Moving by the window so she could see, she saw a small, black notebook. And her handwriting on the paper.
I don't know why
Everytime I wanna fly
Somebody always tries
To hold me down
Hold me down, yeah
I'm losing my faith
Every single time I try
The waters on my side
Don't let me drown
Let me drown
(Y/n) stared at her brother in shock as she heard her words coming out of his mouth. He had had the notebook the whole damn time, and he was recording her songs.
When they finished playing Tommy walked up to her, “So, what did you think?”
“Tommy, where did you get that song from?” She asked, looking at him.
“Huh? Oh… it just came to me,” he shrugged.
“Really?” She grabbed the notebook from the stand. “Then why the hell are you writing wedding vows to Nikki!” She showed him the page where her vows were written. “I can’t believe you.” She went to walk away and he grabbed her.
“(Y/n)...” he sighed. “He isn’t good for you and you know that. He’s going to slip it’s only a matter of time.”
“Get your hands off me.” (Y/n) pulled away from him. “You have been screwing up my life since we were kids! You don’t get to tell me what’s good for me because you don’t even know what’s good for you!”
“I’ve been screwing up your life? Who’s the rockstar here (Y/n)? not you.”
“Rockstar?” She sneered at him. “You know how to live like a rockstar, but you don’t know shit about the music that goes with it. And you wouldn’t even be able to live like that if it wasn’t for Nikki.”
Tommy stood there as she walked away. He had never heard her say those words to him. Running his fingers through his hair he turned back and walked to the studio. (Y/n) walked towards the higher up.
“Give Tommy Lee to someone else. I’m not producing him.” She told him.
“It’s either you represent him, or you’re fired Ms. Bass,” he boss sighed and crossed his arms.
“Well then, I’ll be cleaning out my office. I quit.” (Y/n) hissed. The higher up called for her to come back, but she didn’t listen, throwing things into a box and marching out.
Nikki had brought Ziggy in from his afternoon outing. He grabbed an apple and sat on the couch laying back and sighing. He was just about relaxed when (Y/n) came marching through the door with a box in her hand.
“Hey Nikki. How was your day? I quit my job. What do you want for dinner?” (Y/n) told him.
“Wait what?” Nikki got up and walked with (Y/n) to her home office as she placed the box on her desk. “What happened?” He watched as she paced around angrily and Ziggy whined a bit.
“Thomas Lee Bass was born, that’s what happened.” She handed Nikki the black notebook she had been looking everywhere for.
“Where did you find it?” he raised his eyebrow at her.
“Tommy had it.” She growled. “He stole it from me.” She paced. “I can’t believe that bastard! After everything I did for him! The times I let him borrow my clothes, I paid for his food or things that he needed and this is how he treats me!” She hauled off then and punched the wall hard, once, twice. Nikki saw blood on her hand then and stopped her from hitting it again. “W-why did he do this to me?” She sobbed.
Nikki hugged her and kissed the top of her head, “Let’s take you to the emergency room and get your hand looked at,” he sighed and grabbed his keys. “Tommy’s… he’s Tommy (Y/n). I have no excuse for him… he’s lost and I don’t know if he’ll ever find himself.” Nikki said as he led her to the car and drove her to the hospital.
“Well Ms. Bass, looks like your hand is sprained and you will need some stitches.” The doctor told her a bit later. (Y/n) sighed and looked down at her feet. “What exactly happened again?”
“Punched a wall thinking it was my idiot brothers face.” She grumbled, making Nikki chuckle a bit. The doctor nodded and went to get the stuff to fix her up. She looked over at Nikki. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” She sighed.
“Something you should have done a long time ago?” Nikki suggested as he got close to her. “Tommy is lucky you didn’t punch his face. Although now I kind of wish you had… and remind me never to piss you off.”
“I think I’m good now.” She laughed. “My hand hurts.” Nikki laughed.
“Yeah punching a wall will do that,” Nikki sighed. Once they were done he took her home and sat her on the couch. He had ordered take out and they relaxed on the couch. (Y/n) fell asleep thanks to the medication they had her on and Nikki had flipped to MTV.
“Hi there! We’re back with Bret Michaels from Poison. As you know, we’ve been talking about him during this takeover. Now we have an important question. Who was Every Rose Has its Thorn about? We heard it was (Y/n) Bass. Is that true?”
Nikki sat up gently adjusting (Y/n) as she slept on his chest. He looked over at Ziggy. “See that guy there Zig… he used to date mommy… I still don’t like him.” he smiled when Ziggy gave a low growl at Bret.
"I mean it was the number one hit back then." The interviewer laughed.
"Yeah it was about her," Bret admitted. "I loved her, but we met at the wrong time. I lost her to someone else and while I wish we could get back together, I know that won't be happening."
Nikki smiled as he looked down at (Y/n). “Yeah, Bret…” He looked down at her left hand, “it’s not going to happen for you.” (Y/n) moved closer to Nikki in her sleep.
“So, you’re hoping that there’s a chance the two of you will get back together?” The interviewer asked. “I believe her and Nikki Sixx have been seeing each other.” Bret continued talking, but it was making Ziggy mad. Almost like he could understand that this man would be happy if his mommy and daddy broke up. Nikki couldn’t help but smile.
“Ok, Zig,” Nikki shut off the TV, “Let’s get mommy to bed.” Nikki gently got off the couch and picked (Y/n) up bridal style.
“Nikki?” (Y/n) whispered sleepily. They had given her pain meds for her hand and it really knocked her out.
“I’m here sweet girl,” he smiled. “Just taking you to bed.”
“I’ll always choose you.” She whispered before closing her eyes again.
Nikki looked down at her and smiled. It cemented for him everything he was feeling these past years. Closing his eyes he could feel the tears form. Taking a deep breath he gently laid her down and kissed her head. “Night sweet girl.”
****
Few Days Later
“What are we doing?” Mick asked as Nikki picked him up. “Where’s (Y/n)?”
“She is taking Ziggy to the park you and I are going to look for rings,” Nikki breathed as he peeled out of Mick’s driveway.
“Rings? Like engagement rings?” Mick asked. “What made you decide to think about it more?”
“Bret MIchaels interview… and something (Y/n) whispered to me when she was half asleep,” Nikki gave him a smile. “We’ve been together now for two years after our break up… that’s way longer than when I first asked her to marry me.” Nikki pointed out.
“That is very true. You guys were only together a few months. The age to drink alcohol went up before she got there.” Mick chuckled.
“Yeah well this time… Tommy is not going to screw this up… I mean… he scares her to come back, you scare me that she’s hurt… he gets us together and then says I’m going to hurt her again… I just don’t get it man.”
“He was sober when when he got you guys back together. He was with Heather then.” Mick pointed out.
Nikki ran a hand across his face, “Yeah… I just… maybe I should have tried harder to help him more…”
“It wasn’t on you man.” Mick shook his head. “I have a beer every once in awhile, but I know when to stop. Tommy only has two modes. Nothing or extreme. It’s not anyone’s fault but his.”
“Yeah, you’re right Mick,” Nikki pulled up to the jewelry store. “Ok, so… I was thinking something simple… unless I get her something flashy…. Now I’m thinking I should have called Nessa over instead.” Nikki sighed as he looked at the different cases.
“Just look at all of them. Which one just screams (Y/n)?” Mick asked.
Nikki looked at this different rings and sighed, “I don’t know man… I don’t….” he froze when he saw it.
It was a black band with a beautifully cut rainbow opal sat where it would be a diamond. (Y/n) wasn’t a diamond girl, but Nikki knew that this was her.
“Nik? You okay?” Mick asked.
“That one,” he pointed to it and smiled. “That’s (Y/n).”
“You got her size?” Mick asked. Nikki nodded and went to talk to the lady behind the counter. Once the order was placed, Nikki couldn’t stop smile. “So, what’s the plan?” Mick asked.
“Carnival,” was all Nikki said, “Ferris wheel just like the first time.”
“Any specific carnival? As soon as the ring is ready?” Mick asked.
“I think once it’s ready everything will just fall into place,  I know there is a local carnival coming in a about a month or so. I’m sure we’ll be good to go then.”
“What about Tommy?” Mick asked.
“I’m going over his head,” Nikki swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m going to ask her parents and Athena.”
“He’s gonna be pissed,” Mick said. “I love it.”
*********
Nikki’s leg was bouncing as he sat nervously waiting for (Y/n)’s parents and Athena to come over. He had Vanessa distract (Y/N) with a full spa day and a nice stay at a resort to get her to relax while he prepared everything. The doorbell rang and Nikki answered the door with Ziggy’s help.
“Oh Nikki!” Voula Bass said, hugging him and kissing each cheek. David Bass and Athena followed her.
“Hey Nik.” Athena nodded at him. Nikki smiled at her before shaking David’s hand. They knew him and (Y/n) were dating. In fact, they had been over to the Bass home for Greek food on more than one occasion. They were surprised to see him so different from the rockstar without a care on the stage.
“Thank you guys for coming,” Nikki rubbed the back of his throat as Ziggy barked happily.
“So, what is the formal meeting for?” David asked as they all took a seat. Athena knew, and couldn’t stop smiling as Nikki placed the small ring box on the coffee table.
“I wanted to ask your permission to marry (Y/n) formally this time.” Nikki pushed the box to Voula so she could open it. She gasped and covered her mouth.
“Ω ο κύριός μου αυτό είναι τόσο όμορφο (Oh my lord, this is so beautiful).” Voula showed David and Athena.
“Holy shit Nikki! She is going to flip when she sees it!” Athena looked at him.
“So, you want to marry my daughter.” David said, crossing his arms. “You promise you won’t hurt her or abandon her?”
Nikki looked him in the eyes, her knew his answer, “I promise.”
“(Y/n) is fragile. I’d hate to see her broken up to the point that she thinks she has to go farther than New York.” David told him.
Nikki nodded and closed his eyes, “I don’t want that either sir.”
“I don’t know about these two,” David stood up and held out his hand. “But you have my blessing son.”
Nikki shook his hand before he looked at Athena and Voula, “what do you ladies think?”
“You guys have had my blessing since day one.” Athena laughed, standing up and hugging Nikki.
“Welcome to the family!” Voula hugged him after Athena.
“Thank you… so, let’s go out to eat. (Y/n) is with Vanessa getting some girl time so she won’t be back until tomorrow.” Voula and David smiled and headed to the door. Athena stopped Nikki.
“Nik, what about Tommy?” She asked. “You know how he acted last time. If he’s on stuff again, and he’s been more violent since he got with Pamela, I’m scared of what he would do to you or (Y/n).”
Nikki sighed, “I don’t know ‘Thena,” Nikki shook his head, “I’ll tell him if I see that he’s cooled down. So far he’s been radio silent.”
“(Y/n) told me about what he did to her with her songs,” Athena said as they headed out. “I can’t believe I’m related to that bastard.”
“I’m going to try talking to him soon,” Nikki sighed.
“Take your time.” She patted his arm. “Let’s go. I’m hungry.” She smiled at him.
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crue-sixx · 5 years
Text
Sweet Heat
Title: Sweet Heat
Fandom: The Dirt (Motley Crue Movie)
Summary: The reader is a blind blues singer, who when the owner of the club she's playing at tries to scam her, a certain rock singer steps in.
Note: Based on Jazz/Blues singer and blind imagines.
Warnings: Blindness, swearing, sex mention though not in great detail.
You have been completely blind since birth, you having learned a few tricks to help you get where you were going.  Your longtime friend and roommate Meg had been your escort for years.  When kids at school would pick on you, she was right there defending your honor and not afraid to throw hands.  As you grew older, you depended on her less and less, using techniques like counting your steps and listening to your surroundings.
At age twenty, you started singing professionally, eventually catching the ear of a club owner.  He promised to pay you fifty dollars a week for your voice to sing Friday-Sunday.  You thought it was a good deal for a few hours work at three days a week, so you agreed.  Of course you kept your day job, which were more than happy to provide accommodations so you could be successful.
Tonight, you felt a new set of eyes on you as you sang "Why Don't You Do Right?", swaying your hips with the soft jazz music.  All the musicians behind you knew you were blind, so when your song ended, one of them took you by the hand and led you to the bar.  Then as you were enjoying a vodka martini, you heard the seat next to you become occupied and the owner of the club Chazz speak to you.  "Here's your fifty bucks for the weekend" and put some bills in your hand.
Then from behind you, a younger male voice said "I think you need to count that money again, asshole."
On a Sunday night, the last place Vince wanted to be in was a jazz club.  It was his first time at a place like this, but his cousin Meg dragged him there to see her friend sing.  She had explained to him that you were completely blind and you could sing like an angel.  He was skeptical but agreed to go, and as soon as you opened your mouth he was completely smitten.  He was too shy to approach you at first, but Meg bought him to a few more shows when she saw that he was becoming twitterpated- the term for being in love that was used in the movie Bambi.
Your voice had a sweet heat to it, like cinnamon mixed with honey.  Just looking at you, he got the butterflies in his stomach and Meg grinned, knowing the look on her cousin's face too well.  When the saxophone player was leading you to the bar she teased Vince "Go talk to her!  She's just your type!"
He shook his head "Nah, Meg" he started walking away "She's too good for me...outta my league..."
Meg looked at him dumbfounded "Is THE Vince Neil walking away from a beautiful woman because he's nervous?"  she wasn't having any of that, so she pulled him over to you and pushed him towards you motioning him to make a move.
He was trembling over a girl for the first time in his life-you were drop dead gorgeous and talented to boot. Another new experience to him, was that he felt a little intimidated by you being so beautiful and talented.   He stopped only a moment when an older man approached you giving you money for singing at his club.  The man promised you fifty dollars, but instead it was only five one dollar bills.  That just pissed him right off, him being a struggling artist with his band himself making only twenty bucks a week.  "I think you need to count that money again, asshole" he looked at the older man in contempt.
Chazz looked up at him annoyed "What?  Mind your business, little shit" you recoiled, you had felt that Chazz was duping you and now this just confirms it.  
"You been stiffin' me on my money, Chazz?" your brows furrowed in anger.
At this point, the whole club was staring daggers at Chazz.  They knew he fucked up royally and they were going to defend you right until the end.  A brawl was about to start, and rather than stay and fight, Vince grabbed your hand and lead you outside to where Meg was already waiting.  She saw the expressions on your faces and said "What the hell happened?"
"Chazz has been stiffin' me on my money" you growled, then straightened up.  It wasn't like losing this gig was gonna break you, your day job being enough to pay the rent and other bills.  Besides, lots of other places were giving you offers to come sing at their venues.
"I knew that prick was up to no good!" Meg shouted.
Vince was really bummed, seeing as how he couldn't come see you sing with no venue.  Meg looked at him and said "Hey, Y/N my cousin Vince sings in a rock band!  I think they're playing at the Whiskey A Go Go on Friday!  Is it cool if we come, Vinny?" she gave him the glance and he responded.
"Yeah it's totally cool!  We go on at 11!" he laughed nervously.  Why was this one chick making him melt like butter?  Was she really all that alluring to him?  The answer was a loud, resounding unapologetic yes.
"We'll be there!" You promised, you had to repay him for his kindness at pointing out the owner was stiffing you.  When the day finally came, Meg helped you pick out an outfit and did your make-up.  "How do I look?" you asked her.
"Bitch, if I was a lesbian, I'd be all over you!"  you and her knew each other so well that you called each other derogatory names and knowing you meant it as a form of friendship, not to be mean to each other.  You two giggled at that and you grabbed your white walking stick, walking with Meg arm in arm.
The music was hot and high energy, a welcome change of pace from what you sang.  It even got you jumping around enjoying the beat.  When the set was done, Vince stopped you and Meg and sauntered up to you, a slight smell of liquid courage on his breath, but not too fucked up to carry on a conversation.  He seemed more at ease than the first time he talked to you and he finally got the balls to ask you on a date.  You accepted without hesitation, and he'd set up a late afternoon date the next day at an ice cream shop he loved.
During the date, you complimented "You totally killed it last night!  You sounded amazing!"
He chuckled "Well thank you" he put his hand on yours "You sounded and looked hot yourself" he took your hand and kissed it. 
You giggled and let him, thinking a moment before asking him "You know what I look like right?
"Yeah babe" he got closer to you "and you look ravishing..." he was trying to flirt with you but you grew really nervous.
"Well, I wanna know what you look like...and the only way I can do that is touching your face..." you looked down.  You remembered the first time you touched Meg's face after asking, she was a little put off by it but warmed up to you "if not, that's cool too...I just don't want you to think I'm a freak..."
He smiled and gently took both your hands and put them on his face.  He had slanting cheekbones, and full lips-from the feel of them you guessed he had an angel bow shape to them.  You felt his skin heat up, and yours did the same in response.  You then felt his hair, long and teased.  He let out a ragged, aroused breath and said "It's blonde..."
"Your lips are so soft..." you complimented.  If you didn't know better, you'd think you were feeling the face of a woman.  Meg had told you that some people thought Vince was more feminine and it was a sensitive subject for him, so you made it point to make him feel as manly as possible.
"Wanna feel them up close?" you heard the chair creak a little, indicating that he was leaning in for a kiss.
"Yeah" you said in a natural intoxicated state.  You had the desire for this man to kiss you, maybe do some more that just kissing.  His lips gave a soft peck at first, but he grew more daring and pushed his tongue in your mouth.
He broke the kiss and asked "Wanna get out of here?"
"You sure?" you asked "most dudes get really weird about me being..." you couldn't finish, but he didn't need you to.
"Hey" he picked up your chin "forget those shitheads.  They didn't want a good thing, to hell with them..." he began to kiss your neck, a hand slipping up your shirt.
You put your hand on him to stop him "Not here...take me back to my place...Meg's out until the morning for work..."  Your apartment was right up the street, so it wasn't a long walk.  After you locked the door back, you felt him hoist you up and ask for your bedroom. "Ten steps in, turn left..."
By the time you were done, he'd given you your first intense orgasm, making you cum multiple times as did he.  Now, you were cuddled into him, playing with his hair.  "Hey..." he ventured  "Sing for me?  Please?"
It seemed unlike him to be so nervous when asking for a favor, from what Meg told you he'd fuck any girl who let him but the way he timidly asked you this simple task made him seem childish, venerable.  "Any requests?"
"No" he let out a satisfied sigh "just sing..."
You thought about it a moment and went into a rendition of "My Mother's Eyes", though with your voice it sounded more like a lullaby.  By the end of the song, you heard him snoring softly in deep sleep.  You laughed and kissed his forehead "Sweet dreams, Vinny" before drifting off to sleep yourself.
It was 6am when Meg rolled in from her night shift at the bakery and grinned widely as she saw Vince's jacket hanging on the doorknob to your room.  She waited by the table in the kitchen and gave Vince a playful stinkeye when he rolled out of your room.  "You better not up and leave her like a booty call" she warned.
"Would you relax?" he rolled his eyes at his cousin "I gotta take a piss!" he went to the bathroom to do his business and went back to your room to wait for you to wake up.  When you did he said "Mornin' sunshine, have fun last night?"
"You know I did" you yawned and cuddled into him.
"Wanna go again?" he asked, kissing you deeply.
"Hell yeah" you laughed in his mouth, but you were stopped with Meg's voice in the door.
"You better not while I'm here! I need some sleep and I KNOW Vince gets loud!"
The both of you laughed and he got off you "Maybe next time" he said, kissing you more tenderly.  "Wanna be my girl?"
"Most definitely" you answered, laying your head on his shoulder.
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