#google just shows me cursed headlines when I’m trying to google something innocent and for WHAT

[daincrediblegg]

[niksixx]

Persephone

Requested: Yes, by an Anon! 

Pairing: The Dirt! Vince Neil x Reader 

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. (Note: I had to do some research on the background of Hades and Persephone as this was a difficult request to write because I am not familiar with Greek Mythology. I’m a little skeptical with this piece of writing, I hope it doesn’t disappoint, and I hope it makes sense!)

Warning: Cursing

*Picture is NOT mine. Found on Google. Credit to the owner.*

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You protested, fought, and even stormed your way out of the record label building every day of the week; There was no way, no fucking way, you were going to date anyone to help your image, even if the relationship was fake and especially if the man you were going to be set up with was none other than Mötley Crüe’s sleazy lead singer, Vince Neil.

You had just turned eighteen three days prior; Vince was twenty-two.

“You’re not a child anymore, Y/N,”said Timothy, your manager, hoping to get you on board with the idea. “It’s only for a few months. Vince is fine with it.”

“Of course he’s fucking fine with it,” you spat, plopping down in a chair in the recording studio. “He fucks anything that walks.”

“Look,” Marc interrupted. Marc was the agent that had signed you to Corolla Records. “You’re new to the music business. I get that. But this is how shit works in the music industry, and Corolla Records will drop your ass and replace you in a second if you don’t do this.”

Standing up, you got in Marc’s face. “Are you threatening me?”

Chuckling, Marc placed a hand on your shoulder. “No doll, I’m telling you what is bound to happen if you don’t follow through with this.”

“It’s simple,” Timothy paused. “We change up your look, make up a fake story about how you and Vince met. You’ll tell the media you hit it off instantly. It might come as a surprise to many of them that Vince is off the market, but you must sell it. Your image depends on how well you can fake it until you make it, understand?”

You didn’t have a choice and you hated it. You didn’t need to change your image or up your sex appeal; You were confident, sexy, and your music was growing to be more popular each day. But even you had to admit you weren’t as popular as you thought you would be. Mötley Crüe were rising stars, and maybe being on Vince’s arm would help grow your stardom.

So you reluctantly agreed to give it a try, hoping this plan wouldn’t backfire.

The next day you had a friend chop your hair and bought a whole new wardrobe that consisted of dark clothing, ripped jeans, and leather boots; You had to admit, even if it wasn’t your style, you looked damn good.

You met Vince at a small café in West Hollywood; After spending some time together, you were instructed to take a walk down the Strip so people would notice you as a couple.

“I didn’t think you’d show up,” Vince whispered, lightly kissing your cheek. You cringed and then relaxed, remembering you had to act natural. “Tom Zutaut told me you gave Marc Lowry a lot of shit.”

“Yeah well, excuse me for not wanting to date someone four years older than me,” you hissed, fiddling with the coffee Vince had bought for you. “I’m only eighteen, I shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Look,” Vince interjected, placing his hand over yours. “This is only until my band goes on tour in six months, okay? You need me, even if you don’t want to admit that. It’s just a show, no romance involved.”

“No sex either,” you whispered hastily. “Absolutely none whatsoever.”

Crossing his arms, Vince let out a hearty laugh. “I never expected that, babe. I don’t know what you think of me, but I do respect women. Maybe even after this, we can stay friends.”

Highly unlikely, you thought to yourself. But it turned out that Vince wasn’t so bad after all, and convincing the media you were in a happy, loving relationship was easier than you thought.

Paparazzi followed you everywhere, even when you weren’t with Vince.

“How did you and Vince meet?”

“Do you ever worry Vince will cheat on you?”

“Does the four year age gap bother you?”

Whenever you were confronted in public or during award shows, Vince would confidently answer the questions; You’d stay by his side and look pretty, offering a few loving glances.

“Four years is no big deal to us, so it shouldn’t be a big deal to anyone else,” Vince would say as he rested his hand on your back. “Life can get hectic so I’m glad I have her. She’s my queen.”

After just three months together, you and Vince had become close friends; You were sitting by the pool in his yard, flipping through a magazine when the second page caught your eyes. “Vince, check this out.”

He swam over to you and you laughed, reading the headline over a picture of you and Vince; “Hollywood’s Hades and Persephone: Mötley Crüe’s leader singer Vince Neil and his girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N, despite being one of the youngest couples, have become the most admired couple in all of Hollywood.”

“See? They love us,”Vince said, resting his elbows on your thighs. “And, I heard already five million copies of your album have been sold since Wednesday. Didn’t I tell you this would work?”

Grinning, you smacked Vince with the magazine, squealing as he pulled you by the waist into the pool. He held you closer than he ever did, and despite being in the cold water, you couldn’t help but feel warm inside.

In three more months, you would have to break it off with Vince; A few months ago, it seemed like a great idea. Now? You knew you had developed something for Vince, even if it was small.

“I don’t want this to end,” you said softly, lacing your fingers behind his neck. “I don’t want to go back to how things were before I knew you. I like this. I like us.” 

You figured Vince would find your comment laughable. Instead, he hoisted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. “You know I’d never force you to stay with me, right? I like us too, Y/N, more than I thought I would. We go on tour soon, and I know you’ve never experienced a real tour yet, but it can get wild at times. Between the booze and the drugs, I don’t want you to deal with any of that shit.”

“Oh please. Didn’t you read the magazine? I’m Persephone,” you joked lightly. “If she can handle Hades and all his wrath, I’m sure I can handle you and a little bit of booze.”

You let Vince pull you in for a kiss, the first real kiss in the three months that you’ve known each other. He was sweet and gentle with you, something you hadn’t expected.

“I know I said this once before, but you’re my queen. And this time, I really mean it.”