#fem!crüe

[cruesuffix]

Due to a lot of stalking on this app, I found my newest favourite thing in this fandom: fem!crüe

Here is something to commemorate this wonderful phenomenon (femininomenon?? ok I’ll stop) my first time actually writing some type of smut so if it’s cringy pls tell me, complain send in your hate mail to my dms. anyways this doesn’t have a title but I think you can all predict what pairing I’m coming in with (predictable much?)

Nikki can tell Marzi is drunk, if the loud, rapid knocking that sounds like someone is in danger of getting kidnapped is any indication. They just finished a show and finally managed to get to their hotel rooms when her belligerent guitarist starts pounding at her door. Nikki knows it’s probably not best to hang around her like this anymore. In a brief moment of clarity, Nikki had decided to get sober. The drugs weren’t doing her any good, and in order to be productive enough to write, perform, be a human she needed to get off of everything. Maybe she could start fresh, and she at least needed the motivation to keep going. Marzi wasn’t a good influence. The guitarist was…in a funk to say the least. It was clear to everyone around her.

She was never one to get blackout drunk before, but now she was drinking before, during, and after each show. It never affected her playing, though the damage was starting to show physically. Nikki tried not to notice how much the older woman’s face swelled after a night out. It seemed like it was starting to make her a bit self conscious, and it took Nikki awhile to calm her down during a fit. There was something there, something going on. For some reason, Nikki never addressed it. She never called her out for it, never asked if she was doing ok. She felt bad, but deep down she knew she’d never get the response she wanted. Marzi would still refuse to open up, no matter how wasted she was.

She knows she shouldn’t entertain it. She shouldn’t be letting Marzi in, letting her get her way. Still, she opens her door. She was lonely either way. Who cares if she won’t remember their conversation, if they even have one. Who cares if she won’t remember her trying to help, she’ll end up sleeping in her arms at the end of the night. They’ll wake up the next morning, nothing on under those sheets. Marzi will grin at her, smudged makeup making her look trashy, in a chic way. Nikki will once again succumb to the fact that she just can’t say no to that woman. She opens the door anyways.

Nikki can’t help but grin as Marzi stumbled in, lazy grin plastered on her face.

“I’m bored, wanna play…” She slurred, immediately heading for Nikki’s bed. Nikki tilted her head, amused. Marzi runs this show, yet Nikki’s somehow still surprised after all those months.

She takes in her appearance. She hasn’t changed out of her stage clothes, and it seems like she probably just came back from whatever prospects she finds herself in. Her face is flushed bright pink, and it compliments her pale complexion. Her black skirt and low cut top make Nikki’s eyes wander, and Marzi had to pretend that she didn’t notice.

“You should really slow down Mars, it’s starting to get concerning seeing you like this.” Nikki comments, offhandedly. She quickly closes the door, turning back around to see Marzi flop onto her bed.

“You like seeing me like this!” Marzi giggled, her tone teasing. She hiccuped, then laughed again. Nikki felt her face flush.

Nikki hated that she was right. She was already so attracted to her older bandmate, she was always a mystery Nikki wanted so desperately to figure out. It was embarrassing to admit it, but something about how Marzi looked and acted when wasted turned her on so much. She couldn’t hide those glances when they were at a bar together. Marzi drinking vodka straight from the bottle, slowly getting louder and more abrasive as she got more and more wasted. She liked watching the older woman lose herself more and more, her inhibitions slowly melting away. She liked seeing her become so vulnerable. Marzi would never usually let her emotions show, she was a box fully guarded with at least five locks around her. Late at night, under the sheets, she’d spill things. She’d let Nikki subtlety know how she felt about certain things. Whispering secrets, like they were at a sleepover and not in a tight embrace, sweaty skin touching skin.

Marzi was a quiet girl, modest and always having the vibe of having to take care of three kids. She kept herself out of trouble for so long, it was almost funny seeing her succumb to the party life the others girls had been living for the past four years. She was slowly becoming like them, messy and wild. Nikki loved it. Every night, like clockwork, Marzi would make her way to her. She always reeked of booze, always smiled and batted her eyelashes.

At first, Nikki hadn’t wanted to do anything. She was scared she was taking advantage of her. The first time Marzi came over, Nikki had simply pushed her in bed and forced her to sleep everything off. Then, Marzi laid down the law. She knew what she wanted, and Nikki was going to give her exactly that. After some trial and error, they worked up a routine that seemed natural enough. Nikki learned soon enough that Marzi liked it, liked being taken advantage of while in such a state. She was equally turned on by the idea. That was the only time they ever did anything though, and it had confused Nikki at first. She felt conflicted even after Marzi had reassured her it was fine. It took a while to finally be comfortable with it. It became their little secret.

Here they were now. Marzi was sprawled on Nikki’s bed, skirt lifting just above her thigh, just enough to show off a sliver of her pink panties. It made Nikki blush and look away. That was something she’d never expected from her. Marzi only ever wore black, she had to be forced to wear red for the ‘Smokin in The Boys Room’ video. Yet, here she is wearing the most girly underwear. It looked like something Victoria would wear. Then again, maybe it was hers. Marzi closed her eyes, letting out a sigh that almost sounded like a moan to Nikki. Her breath hitches. She finds herself slowly moving closer to the bed. Marzi opened his eyes again, lazy smile turning into an excited grin. Her glazed over eyes catching Nikki’s, full of fiery passion.

“Whatcha waiting for?” She asked, voice light and airy. It was more playful than demanding, but Nikki doesn’t care. It’s incentive enough to pounce on her.

Her hands are all over her, roaming from chest to stomach to hips. Her hands slip under her shirt, groping her small breasts. Marzi doesn’t even try to hide her moans. Though she’s always been insecure about her size, Nikki knows how to touch her, to make her come undone. She swiped at her nipples, earning a surprised gasp. Marzi’s head tilts back in pleasure. Nikki teases her though, slowly gliding her hands down, in a way she knows is torturing her. She grips her hips, rough. Marzi hisses, and pushes herself closer to Nikki. It’s a subtle way of telling her to hurry up, but Nikki ignores her, trailing her fingers down slowly. To distract her, she leans in. Pulling her guitarist into a slow but passionate kiss, she gets closer and closer to her target.

Marzi moans into the kiss, trying to guide Nikki’s hands closer, but Nikki pulls away. She digs a hand into Marzi’s hair, griping slightly. She gives a little tug, a slight punishment for trying to take the reins. Marzi might be getting what she wants, but Nikki’s in control here. She agreed to give herself fully to her bassist and that’s exactly what she needs to remind her. Biting her lower lip slightly, Nikki resumes her little show. She’s fiddling with the hem of Marzi’s skirt, slowly tugging them down. Marzi is whimpering now, throbbing with the ache of anticipation. Her grip on Nikki’s hands is tight, but Nikki pretends not to feel a thing. Inside, she’s a ball of nerves ready to explode. Her heartbeat has now travelled to her own pants and it takes everything in her to not rip off her own pants and get off right in front of her needy girl. Her breathing picks up as she helps Marzi steady her hips as she pulls down her skirt fully. The lower half of her body is almost bare. Nikki feels like an old Victorian man coming across a woman’s bare ankle for the first time. Marzi looks satisfied, she loves seeing the bassist look so flustered.

Nikki is now face to face with those pastel pink panties. She doesn’t make a move, preferring to take in the sight in front of her. Those beautiful round white thighs that look so soft, perfect creamy skin ready to bite. Peel back the underwear and find out the carpet doesn’t actually match the drapes. What a fun sight it was to see for the first time. Nikki doesn’t remember it, but she actually gasped when they did it for the first time. She didn’t know why she was so surprised, those bright blue eyes gave it away in the first place. Still, it was her own little secret. The goth girl was actually a redhead. What a surprise. Now, she slowly takes off the pink underwear, basks in the sight of that red bush.

Her face is nearly buried between Marzi’s legs, and she gently pushes them farther apart. Then, she glances up. She’s watching her. The flush from her face slowly travelling to her chest. Marzi groans, lips apart. It takes her awhile to find the words.

“Nikki, please…I need it.” She whispered, voice thick with arousal. Nikki tried to hide the grin on her face.

With that, she gets to work, working her tongue Theo the folds, digger deeper and deeper. Marzi’s reactions always get to her. Her little moans and gasps, she writhes around and grinds her hips a little. Nikki holds her down, hands clamping down tight enough to stop their movements. Nikki moaned at the sight of it. Marzi letting go completely, becoming frenetic over the flick of her tongue. The vibration of the hum just sends Marzi into another frenzy. Nikki could tell she was getting worked up, getting close. Nikki stopped, removing her face from the depths of those ghost white thighs. Marzi whined and pouted at Nikki, wondering what the hold up was. She lets out a gasp and a hiccup when she feels one of Nikki’s dainty little fingers slide inside her. The sounds she made lights a fire in Nikki’s stomach.

She knows exactly how to get Marzi off, exactly what buttons to push. After countless of nights together, she’s refined the process to a tee. She starts slow, rubbing gently. She tried not to laugh at how impatient Marzi is. She grunts, frustrated and tries to grind her hips again. Nikki simply holds her down with her free hand, slapping a thigh as punishment. She’s not surprised at the moan that produced, she’s acutely aware of the thing she has for spanking. They’d have to discuss how to incorporate that one later on. Marzi pleads, her voice soft, but strained.

“Please.” “Harder, please.” “Oh Nikki, I need it now!”

Nikki complied, the heat in her stomach travelling downwards. Her pussy is throbbing now and she needs that sweet release. She nearly crumpled right then and there. She goes deeper, rubbing faster. She revels in the sounds she’s forcing out of Marzi. Moans turn into squeals, turn into little cries of pleasure. Finally, she squirts, hard. It’s a beautiful sight to behold. Her back arched slightly, her head tilted back, mouth wide open. Her icy blue eyes rolling to the back of her head. She moans so loud, Nikki is so sure the people next door could hear it. Everything about her is so obscene in this moment and Nikki loves it. Loves drinking her ecstasy in. She loves her beautiful, dirty girl.

Marzi’s eyes tear up as she catches her breath. The comedown is the best part for Nikki. She can’t take it anymore. Marzi’s face is flushed, a barely noticeable sheen of sweat on her forehead. Unprovoked, she slides her panties down until they’re off and then slowly works her shirt over her head. She throws the sullied clothes onto the floor and flops down on her back. She watches Nikki as she shimmies out her own pants and shoves a hand down her own underwear. Marzi, a picture of beauty. Long down hair fanning onto the pillow, chest heaving as she takes shallow breaths. She looked on in amusement as she watches Nikki slip into a frenzy of her own. Nikki replays those few minutes on repeat. Marzi, back arched and moaning. Whimpers and whines a melody in her head. Those big blue eyes rolling back in pleasure. She bites her lip as she rubs vigorously, rough and uncaring. She needs release now, screwing her eyes shut. She doesn’t care that this is the first time she’s been this pent up in front of Marzi. She doesn’t care if she watches or not.

That is, until she feels hands on her, cupping a tit, going lower. This is a first, it throws her off. Before she knows it, she too comes hard, hissing and cursing under her breath. Her heads swimming and all she feels is warm and electric. She finds herself slumping down next to Marzi, who grins at Nikki’s tired expression. That’s how she knows it was a good time, when Nikki is absolutely spent. She has to gently help her take off her pants, pulls her shirt off of her and settles in closer to her. They don’t clean up anything. Their sticky thighs don’t bother them.

Nikki holds Marzi as she slips in and out of consciousness. They’re both tired from performing both on and off stage. Nikki looks over at her guitarist, her eyes continuously flutters open and close. She doesn’t know why, but she wants to confront her.

“Do you really like feeling like this all the time?” She asked. She keeps her voice quiet, nonchalant. For a while there isn’t an answer and Nikki’s sure she’s fallen asleep. She doesn’t know when she’ll ever get another chance to talk about it. Then, Marzi lazily looks up at her.

“Fuck no…then again, does anyone?” She replied, with a question of her own. She sounded sleepy, like she’d fall asleep any moment. Nikki grimaced.

“Mars, I’m getting sober. I won’t be able to handle any of you pretty soon.” She informed her, slightly joking. She doesn’t want her to get upset. Like she was spoiling her fun.

“I know. I’m proud of you.”

“I think you should consider it too.”

Marzi frowned. Nikki wonders if she overstepped. As much as she wanted to help Marzi, get her to stop whatever it was she was doing, she knew it wasn’t up to her.

“But then we wouldn’t get to do this anymore.” She whispered, gesturing between the two of them. She sounded disappointed, which made Nikki almost laugh. How cute of her to be worried that all this would disappear.

While she did wonder at times if any of this would have happened had Marzi been sober the first time around. Would either of them been able to work up the courage to make the first move, without the booze or drugs? Nikki doesn’t want to think about it. They’ve gone too far now to just stop. She didn’t want it to stop.

“We can still do this, I want to. I’ve wanted this for so long, I can’t give this up.” Nikki reassured her, looking down and caressing her cheek. Marzi blushed, looking away. Nikki loved how bashful she got, it was especially funny after she’d just torn her apart and sewn her back together just a couple of minutes ago.

“I hope you’re right.” She finally replied, getting as close as possible to Nikki. She’s facing her, her face buried in her chest. Nikki chuckles as she too snuggled closer, arm draped over her waist.

“You bet I am, you’re stuck with me now.” She mumbled as she finds herself slowly getting sucked into a deep sleep.

As always, she’s letting Marzi get her way.

(anyways like I said, send ur hate for this little thing to my dms…I literally wrote this in a hazy little frenzy idc to edit this I think this explains everything wrong with me. still, I enjoyed every bit of this and where else to post this but the cringiest site on the internet. I need u ppl to post more fem!crüe smut so I don’t have to do it anymore because it’ll only get worse from here. idc if no one reads this since I’ve been posting most of my stuff for myself. ok I’ll stop talking now, thanks if you read this thanks if you don’t, BYE!!)

[robinsnest2111]

middle aged ladies... 🙏

inspo:

[littlecrow-rogue]

Trough the Lens: A Mötley Crüe fanfiction - Chapter One

Hi!

So the other day I made a post aboute writing a Mötley Crüe Nikki Sixx x OC fanfiction.

I did it!

I am bit nerves posting it cause english is not my first language so this was a bit hard, and even tho I asked some help from Google and transolaters to fix my grammer mistakes probobly there are still some mistakes left or wrong usage of words. But I hope it's still enjoyable.

If you read this have fun and let me know if you think and if you'd like a second chapter for it.

XoX - V

Chapter 1: "The Beginning"

The band members of Mötley Crüe sat huddled around a cluttered table in Nikki's flat, the air thick with anticipation and the remnants of their brainstorming session. Empty beer bottles mingled with scattered papers, evidence of their search for the perfect promotional plan and a testament to the chaos of their creative minds.

Tommy tapped his fingers impatiently against the table, his dark eyes darting restlessly around the room in search for inspiration. The weight of their first gig hung heavy in the air, a silent reminder of the task at hand.

Suddenly, Nikki's voice shattered the silence, cutting through the haze of uncertainty that had settled over them.

"Alright, guys, time to get down to business," he declared, his tone commanding attention.

Vince lounged back with a smirk, tossing out a suggestion that earned a mixture of amusement and disdain

"A little spray-painted graffiti on the side of Sunset Boulevard could drum up some serious buzz”

Nikki shook his head with a wry smile.

"As much as I appreciate the guerrilla marketing approach, we need something more polished," he said, running a hand through his tousled hair as he leaned forward, his gaze fixed on his bandmates.

Mick nodded in agreement.

Nikki arched an eyebrow, his gaze locking onto Tommy’s with a curious intensity.

"Do you have any ideas, Tommy?"

A mischievous grin spread across Tommy's face as he leaned back in his chair, confidence radiating from every pore.

"Actually, I do," he declared, capturing the attention of his bandmates.

"My sister, Katie, she's a photographer. She could help us make some flyres with some killer shoots."

The mention of Tommy's sister piqued the band's interest. They had heard stories about Katie Lee, Tommy mentioned her a lot, but none of them had ever met her.

Mick, ever the pragmatist, cut to the heart of the matter with a single question.

"Is she any good?" he asked, his skepticism evident in his gravelly voice.

Tommy's response was immediate.

"She's incredible," he declared, his voice brimming with pride.

"She's been working as a photographer in downtown LA for the past two years, but she has been obsessed with photography since we were kids. Trust me, guys, she's the real deal. "

Vince grinned.

"Well then, what are we waiting for? Let's go pay Katie a visit and see if she can work her magic for us."

As their car glided to a halt in front of SutterLux Studios, the first thing that caught their eyes was the imposing sign, polished to a mirror like perfection, a testament to the studio's prestige as it boldly announced its name to the world. It stood as a beacon of elegance amidst the bustling cityscape, its modern architecture a symphony of clean lines and sleek facades that mesmerized passersbys. Every detail, from the smooth curvature of the walls to the precise symmetry of the windows, spoke of craftsmanship and artistry that left an indelible impression on all who saw it. Surrounding the entrance, a meticulously curated garden, a lush oasis of greenery, provided a tranquility to the building's exterior.

As they stepped out of their car, the band's rock and roll style clashed brilliantly with the polished surroundings. Leather jackets, ripped jeans, and a smattering of tattoos made for a striking contrast against the backdrop of elegance.

Stepping into the studio, they were greeted by a receptionist girl seated at a marble-topped desk, her workspace packed with notepads and notebooks in neat order wich spoke volumes about her attention to detail. With a shy smile playing on her lips, she chirped a warm welcome, while her eyes scaned the group of men before her.

"Welcome to SutterLux! What can I help you?” her voice was light and airy.

Tommy leaned casually against the desk, flashing his trademark grin as he addressed her.

"Hey there, we're here to see Katie Lee. Is she available?" he inquired, his voice laced with confidence.

The receptionist's bashfulness only added to her charm as she inquired about their appointment, her eyes flitting towards the calendar as she searched for any openings.

"I'm her brother, and I just want to talk to her if she's free," Tommy explained with a nonchalant shrug, his charm evident in every word.

Recognition flickerd on the receptionist's face as she realized who Tommy was

"Oh, you're Katie's brother Tommy? She's mentioned you," she remarked, her shy tone melting into a warm, friendly demeanor.

"Let me see if she's available. Please take a seat. I'll be right back."

With a graceful gesture towards the plush black sofas on the other side, she disappeared into the depths of the studio, leaving the band members alone in the lobby. The air crackled with anticipation as Vince, Mick, and Nikki exchanged nervous glances, unsure of what to expect when they finally met Katie Lee.

As the receptionist girl reappeared with Katie by her side, the room seemed to brighten with her presence. Her fiery red hair cascaded down her shoulders like a waterfall of flames, framing her face with an aura of vibrant energy. Her eyes twinkled with a mischievous sparkle, and every step she took radiated confidence.

"Tommy!" Katie exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine delight as she enveloped her brother in a tight hug.

"What are you doing here?"

Tommy returned the hug with equal enthusiasm, his grin stretching from ear to ear.

"We came to see you, sis," he replied, pulling back to gaze at her with fondness.

"Who’s we?” she asked couriously as her gaze shifted to the other men standing behind Tommy, her smile widening at the sight of them.

"Nikki, Vince, and Mick," Tommy introduced, gesturing to each member of the band in turn. "Guys, this is my sister, Katie."

The band members exchanged greetings with Katie, their admiration for her evident in their eyes. Her easygoing demeanor and magnetic charm left an impression on each of them, drawing them in with her infectious energy.

"Do you have a little time to spare for us sis?” Tommy asked eagerly.

"I hope so.” Katie replied with a grin.

"Sam, when's my next client scheduled to arrive?" Katie turned to the receptionist girl, who quickly returned to her desk.

Sam scanned the schedule and checked the clock on the wall before responding,

"You've got about an hour and twenty minutes until your next appointment."

Katie nodded thoughtfully.

"Great. In that case, why don't we head over to that coffee shop down the street? We can grab a table and chat," she suggested, turning back to the band with a warm smile.

"Sounds like a plan," Tommy cheered, his excitement matching hers as they left the building.

As Katie and the band strolled down the bustling streets of downtown LA, the city pulsed with an electrifying vitality and amidst the vibrant chaos, they sought refuge at a quaint corner table in a cozy café, where the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped them like a warm embrace.

After placing their orders, Nikki leaned forward, his piercing blue eyes fixed on Katie.

"So, Katie, Tommy's been singing your praises as a kickass photographer," his voice as smooth as silk. "We're on the hunt for someone with your skills to help us make a splash with our upcoming gig."

Katie nodded, her interest piqued.

"I'm all ears," she replied, leaning back in her chair.

Tommy, unable to contain his excitement, leaned forward eagerly.

"We've headlining at the Starwood Club next month," he announced, a grin spreading across his face. "But we're not just looking to play; we want to rock the joint!"

"And to light up that stage, we need some badass posters, flyers, and all that jazz, something that draws  a lot of people in" Vince chimed in, his voice hyped.

Katie soaked up their vibe, a glint of excitement dancing in her eyes.

"Consider it done" she declared, a smirk tugging at her lips.

"But first could guys maybe show some of your music for me? Just to get a better image of Mötley Crüe.”

The band exchanged looks, a smirk playing on their lips.

"We'll crank up the amps and give you a taste," Tommy promised, a grin spreading across his face.

"You just got a backstage pass to our sonic circus," Nikki added, a playful twinkle in his eye.

"Why don't we invite you to my place? We've got a rehearsal space set up there, so you can experience what we're all about."

Katie's eyes gleamed with excitement.

"That sounds perfect," she exclaimed, a radiant smile gracing her lips.

"Then it's settled," Mick declared with a decisive nod. "We'll make our way to Nikki's place once we're done here."

With the first part of their plan solidified, the band and Katie lingered over their drinks, their conversation flowing with easy.

As the time drew near for Katie's next appointment, the group decided to escort her back to work. Upon the arrival, Katie vanished into the studio to finish her job for the day.

As the band settled into the reception hall, time seemed to stretch out before them, each minute feeling like an eternity as they waited with for Katie's return.

At long last, the door creaked open, and Katie emerged with a satisfied smile playing on her lips.

"Sorry for the wait, guys," Katie apologized, her voice carrying a note of excitement as she joined the band.

"I'm ready to roll now."

With a renewed sense of anticipation, Katie and the band made their way to Nikki's car, the excitement practically crackling in the air around them. As they headed to the Sunset Strip, Katie couldn't suppress the thrill bubbling within her, eager to delve deeper into the realm of rock 'n' roll.

Arriving at Nikki's apartment building, Katie was greeted by a surge of excitement at the thought finally getting to know the band wich her brother was part of.

As Mötley Crüe and Katie entered Nikki's flat, they were greeted by a space that perfectly encapsulated the rock 'n' roll lifestyle. Posters of iconi musicans adorned the walls, while instruments were scattered haphazardly around the room. Amplifiers hummed softly in the background, hinting at the music that was created within these walls.

The furniture was a mix of vintage pieces and modern comforts, giving the space a lived-in yet stylish vibe. A plush couch sat against one wall, its cushions worn from years of use, while a sleek bar area beckoned from the corner, stocked with an impressive array of spirits.

Nikki led the group into the room with a grin, gesturing for them to make themselves at home. "Welcome to my humble abode, where the magic happens" he said, a twinkle in his eye turning to Katie

"Make yourself comfortable."

As Katie and the rest of the band settled in, Nikki made his way to the fridge, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Alright, folks, what'll it be?" he called out, opening the fridge door to reveal an assortment of beverages.

"Beer, wine, whiskey? You name it, I've got it."

The band members exchanged glances, a collective smirk crossing their faces.

"Surprise us, Nikki," Vince replied, a playful edge to his voice.

Nikki chuckled as he retrieved a selection of drinks from the fridge, passing them out to the group with a flourish. As the band settled in with their drinks, Nikki turned to Katie with a grin.

"Are you ready for your private show, Katie?" he asked, his eyes alight with anticipation.

Katie's face broke into a wide smile.

"Absolutely," she replied, excitement coursing through her veins as she leand back comfortably in the couch, drink in hand. With a casual ease, she propped her legs up on the coffee table, fixing her gaze on the band with eager anticipation.

With that the band took their place on the stage, wich was the other side of Nikki’s living room, and launched into their first song. The music was filling the room with its raw energy. Katie's eyes danced with delight as she listened, completely captivated by the electrifying performance unfolding before her.

Song after song, Mötley Crüe poured their hearts and souls into their music, each note resonating with passion and intensity. Katie couldn't help but be swept away by the sheer talent and charisma of the band, her appreciation for their music growing with each passing moment.

As the final chords faded into silence, Tommy and Nikki took their seats on either side of Katie, their faces flushed with exhilaration. Vince and Mick settled into the armchairs surrounding the coffee table, their expressions mirroring the sense of accomplishment that filled the room.

"So, Katie, what did you think?" Nikki asked, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

Katie's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she took a sip of her drink, considering her response.

"I loved it," she said, her voice filled with genuine admiration.

"Each song had its own unique energy"

With the mood buoyed by Katie's praise, she launched into her ideas for the flyers and posters, drawing inspiration from the music she had just heard.

The band members listened intently, nodding in agreement as Katie outlined her vision for the promotional materials.

"I love it," Vince exclaimed, his eyes shining with enthusiasm.

"It sounds like you really understand our vibe and what we're all about."

Katie smiled, feeling a surge of pride at the band's reaction.

 "I'm glad you think so," she replied.

"I can't wait to get started and see what we can create together."

As the excitement of their collaboration filled the room, Katie and the band members of Mötley Crüe quickly settled on a date for the photoshoot.

"How about Saturday, two days from now?" Katie suggested, her eyes alight with enthusiasm.

The band members exchanged eager nods, they couldn’t wait to see Katie's vision come to life. "Sounds good to us," Nikki replied, a grin spreading across his face.

"We'll make sure we're ready to rock and roll."

With the date set and plans in motion, the group toasted to their upcoming photoshoot, excitement buzzing in the air. As they continued to chat and laugh late into the evening, Katie couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation for the creative journey that lay ahead.

As the evening wore on and the excitement of their collaboration began to wind down, the band members of Mötley Crüe started to make their exit.

Vince, with a mischievous glint in his eye, rose from his seat, his voice laced with playful banter.

"Alright folks, see you on Saturday. I'm off to see my girl" he declared, his announcement met with teasing cheers from the rest of the group.

Shortly there after, Mick followed suit, offering a nod of farewell before vanishing into the nocturnal embrace of the city.

Tommy glanced at his watch, realizing it was time to pick up his new flame.

"I better get going, my date is waiting" he said, flashing a grin at the others.

"New girl?” Katie asked quirosly.

"We will see” he answered with a huge smile still plaster on his face

"But before I head out, Nikki, do you mind taking Katie home?"

 "I'd be happy to make sure she gets home safely." Nikki nodded in agreement, a warm smile on his face.

Katie smiled gratefully

"Thank you, Nikki," she said

"I appreciate it."

With goodbyes exchanged Tommy dissapiered and soon after Nikki and Katie made their way down from the flat to Nikki's car, the cool night air greating them as they stepped out side. They exchanged casual banter as they walked, their laughter echoing off the surrounding buildings.

 "So, Nikki, where did you and my brother crossed paths?" she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Nikki's gaze drifted to the road ahead, a nostalgic smile gracing his lips as he recounted the story.

"Well, it was after I had a falling out with my former band's singer and decided to quit London," he began, his voice tinged with nostalgia.

"I was feeling pretty lost and unsure of what to do next."

He paused for a moment, lost in thought, before continuing.

"I found myself sitting in a diner, flipping through the ads of musicians looking to join a band," he explained.

"That's when Tommy walked up to me out of the blue."

A smile tugged at the corners of Nikki's lips as he recalled the memory.

"He was this cocky guy with wild hair and an even wilder personality," he said.

 "I remember him saying he had my poster on his bedroom wall” he laughed and Katie started giggeling next to him.

"And then he just seated himself infront of me and started twireling his drum sticks and as they say the rest is histroy”

Katie glanced over at Nikki, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"It's amazing how things just seem to fall into place sometimes," she remarked, her voice filled with admiration.

"It's like the universe has a way of bringing people together when they need it."

Nikki nodded in agreement, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Yeah, it's funny how life works out like that," he replied, his voice tinged with reflection. "Sometimes the most unexpected encounters can change the course of your life in ways you never imagined."

They fell into a comfortable rhythm of conversation, sharing stories and laughter as they made their way through the city streets. Before they knew it, they had arrived at Katie's apartment building, the glow of the streetlights casting a warm halo around them.

As Nikki pulled up to the curb, he turned to Katie with a smile.

"Well, here we are," he said, his tone lighthearted.

"Thanks for the company, Katie. I had a great time tonight."

Katie returned his smile, a sense of warmth and gratitude filling her chest.

"Thank you for the ride, Nikki," she replied, her voice sincere.

With a final wave goodbye, Katie stepped out of the car and watched as Nikki drove off into the night. As she made her way up to her apartment, a sense of contentment washed over her, grateful for the unexpected connection she had formed with Nikki and the band.

[starry-eyed-extraterrestrial]

Female Mötley crüe headcanons below, warning this varies from serious to super non serious, so sorry for how all over the place these are (and for how short lol)

The idea of fem!Crüe is so interesting to me because It changes their whole story in like massive ways that I couldn't even predict, because unfortunately Mötley in (in the 80s any way) is so deeply seated in sexist idles, them being women changes the flavour of mötley crüe completely.

My best guess is that, realistically, they would be an empowering all female band with a lot of internalised sexism-but just like their male counterparts they are not really emotionally intelligent enough to even realise that they're being sexist in any way, shape or form and because it's the 80s nobody else calls them out on it.

The media would also treat them like an entirely different animal. Especially with the amount of sex they have, because if a guy sleeps around nobody really bats an eye, but when woman does it suddenly it's the scandal of the century, and Mötley makes a lot of scandals. I do predict that their would be a lot more slut shaming in fem!crües run and alot more Catholic/christen parents telling their daughters to never be like them as they'd be sent to hell for all eternity for having per marital sex.

Also they'd be shunned for how crass and dirty they were as people, always swearing and still never showering and never shaving either. (Because unfortunately it is still considered shameful for a women not to shave and talk how she wants)

Despite this in photoshoots they'd definitely be asked to wear far more scantily clad clothing and asked to be on the cover of Playboy magazine, stuff like that.

And y'know what, I think they thrive on this kind of controversy, more so then male crüe, since they actually have a cause to fight for (female empowerment), instead of the mötley guys like low key half assed motto of vaguely just “stand up for what you believe in” and I think that makes them stronger as a unit- they'd definitely go through far more shit together media wise and I think this would bond them closer.

Other interesting thought blubs about fem! crüe :

The Mötley house would still be disgusting, but just in different ways- like I think they just straight up stick their used pads on the bathroom door and hang used tampons on their Christmas tree. There are dirty panties and G-strings covering the ceiling fan, as they take them off after a long show and just fling them up there for fun.

They all hold fast food cups with their tits like this:

(PS, Mick tries to hold it like that but because she's leader of the itty bitty titty committee the cup falls right out)

They don't shave their pubes, underarms or legs at all, and they say they do this because they think it's unfair that men don't have to shave but women do, which is part of it but they mostly don't shave to come off more masculine and feel more normal surrounded by a so many male centric bands.

Current day Fem! Vince would be fat shamed so much more :(((((( (can we as a society stop fat shaming Vince please, even if you don't agree with things he's done, thanks)

Also Mick would be so much more infantalized aswell, because of her AS, I feel like that's accurate.

I also think that early day crüe seventeen year old Tommy would get so many creepy comments from older men in the music industry, I mean the other girls would get them too but like Tommy gets them an obsessive amount I think.

Idk that's all I got rn, add y'alls opinions on what fem crüe would be like in reblogs or comments.

[sstaaar]

hi, i'm dead inside

[joekeeryswife]

thinking about writing for Tommy Lee- if you have any requests for him send them in!! (set in the 80s and 90s!) x

[macfrog]

homesick

a cowboy like me one shot

oh, i missed these two. here's a little check-in on my favorite morally irresponsible outlaws.

pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

summary: you spend the weekend back home in austin with joel.

warnings: age gap (early 20s/late 40s), twinge of angst, piv sex in the shower (beware of slippage). you know the drill with these two. part of the cowboy like me universe, but can probably be enjoyed as a standalone.

word count: 6.3k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🧡

“This is Joel Miller. I can’t come to the phone right now, so leave a message and I’ll get back to ya.”

You wait for the beep, pacing along a wall of steel cylinders. The laundromat is stifling, the machines’ drumming deafening. It’s eighty-something degrees out, and it’s only six o’clock.

“Pick up, Miller. Hello? Hello? I know you’re there. Can’t come to the –” you clear your throat, strum the twang in your vocal cords, “– Can’t come to the ph-owww-ne right n–”

The line clicks as he picks the handset up.

“Did you call just to make fun of me, kid?”

You halt, spinning on your heel. “So you were screening me?”

He scoffs. “Didn’t notice the time. I’ve been out back with Tommy.”

“Oh,” you mellow, tongue curling around your ice cream, “We don’t have to call right now, you know. I’m just doing laundry.”

“It is six there, right?”

“Yeah, but don’t let me keep you. Go hang with your brother.”

Joel sighs as he sinks back into his couch. “Keep me. He knows you were calling tonight. He’s probably outside fraternizing with the neighbor, anyway. Won’t even notice I’m gone. Laundry, huh?”

“Mhm.” You suckle on the lip of the waffle cone. “It’s a beautiful night, and I’m stuck being force-fed Mötley Crüe and watching a steel drum shred my panties.”

“Sounds like a good time to me.”

“Enough, cowboy.”

“I like Mötley Crüe,” he chuckles. “They got some hits under their belt.”

“Name five.”

“Five,” he says. “You’re asking a lot there, darlin’.”

“Of Mötley Crüe or of your memory, old man?”

Joel hums. “Should’ve seen that one coming, baby.”

You boost yourself up onto one of the dryers, swinging your legs. If there were anyone else in the laundromat, you’d care to hide your fluster – but you’re here on your own, and the man just melts you. All girlish and giggly, you feel his words swirl around your stomach like sweet honey.

“Tell me about your day,” you say, covering the flutter in your voice with another mouthful of ice cream.

“Well,” Joel says, “weather’s fine, work’s fine. Almost done with that renovation for your favorite clients.”

You gasp. “The old couple with the cats?”

He grumbles. “That’s them. They still hate me, by the way.”

“The couple, or the cats?”

“…Jury’s out.”

You snicker.

“Then, uh, I called Sarah, had some dinner, and now here I am talkin’ to you.”

“Hm. I’m your favorite part, right? I’m your favorite part of today?”

Joel pauses, breathing for a moment. Slow, quiet, but sure, he says: “You’re my favorite part of every day.”

The smile on your face cracks, crumbles into something more pained. Your heart sinks.

It’s been three months since you were last home. Technically, it’s been seven weeks since you were in Austin – but Joel was out of town for the weekend, and you spent four days cleaning your dad’s gutter and watching westerns.

It’s been three months since you were last in Joel’s arms. In his house, in his clothes, in his bed. Three months since you heard his voice not through the crackle of a thousand miles apart; since you smelled him on your skin, not on the flannels you’ve stolen from him.

Three long, tough months.

And it means nothing, anyway. All this missing each other. So you tell yourselves, and so you tell everyone else. You’re not together, you’re not committed. You’ve been seeing other people, so has Joel – even if he’s only been on two dates in the nine months since you moved away.

Spending a casual weekend together here and there is enough to get you by. It’s easier this way, right? It’s cleaner. There are no crossed wires, no strings at risk of becoming tangled.

Only – your entire relationship is woven in tangled strings. Messy, knotted, twisted around your fingers and threaded through your ribs. A summer’s worth of weaving yourselves closer and closer together, only to be pulled apart come fall.

It didn’t take long to prove that when a knot is pulled, it only binds tighter.

It only binds sorer.

“Anyway,” Joel says, “your turn. How was your day?”

You gulp, slipping down from the dryer to check on your wash. If you speak, you’ll break, and if you break, you’ll sob.

“Baby? You still there?”

“Yep,” you croak. You wipe your eyes with your sleeve and shake your head. “I – uh…Yeah, my day was fine.”

The line quietens.

“You sure? Everything okay at work?”

Your reflection blinks back at you in the window of the machine, warped and molten. She opens her mouth and replies, “All good.”

He can read you even three states apart. “Let me call you back. Hold on.”

The call disconnects before you can protest. Over your shoulder, another regular shuffles into the laundromat.

She smiles, skin supple and sun-spotted, looking but not looking you in the eye. She slides her full basket over one of the machines on the other side of the room, and tosses her clothes into the drum.

When your phone vibrates again, you pass by her and out onto the street.

Joel’s pixelated living room stretches across your screen.

“Joel,” you sniff, “Joel, it’s –”

“Can you see me?”

“No, you gotta flip your –”

“…never know why the damn thing don’t –”

“The button with the arrows. The camera button, Joel, it’s –”

His coffee table flips, and in place – straight, dark brows drawn tight in a frown. Crows feet, scar across the bridge of his nose. Peppered hair a little longer than the last time you called, beard a little thicker.

The only person in the world who can weaken your knees and splinter your chest, in one fleeting glance.

“Hi, baby girl,” he whispers, expression softening. “Look at you.”

You slump against the warm wall, sliding down. One sight of him, and your knees give. “Oh, my God, I miss you today.”

Joel laughs. His head cocks, smirk tugging at his lips. “I miss you every day.”

“Yeah, that’s – that’s what I…” you sigh, “…That’s what I meant. It’s just – some days, you feel a little further away.”

“Today one of those days?”

You nod. A car soars by, whipping hot air from the road which pours over your bare legs. “It’s just…been a day. That’s all.”

“We can talk about it, if you want. You’re hell of a lot smarter than me, darlin’, but I’ve had my share of bad days before. Never does any harm to get it off your chest.”

He smiles. It breaks your heart.

He works ten hours straight, some days. Out at the crack of dawn, home with only enough time and energy to nuke something in the microwave. Somewhere amongst that, he fits in beers with Tommy and ridiculous DIY jobs your dad elicits his help for.

And still – he sets aside an hour or two every few nights, specially for you. He collapses into his couch, decaf in his mug, and puts the world to rights with you on the other end of the phone.

The meaningless work dramas, the paper building up on your desk. The commute, for the love of God – the traffic jams you swear will one day be the death of you. The last thing Joel needs is to listen to your problems on end, and you tell him so.

“Bullshit,” he replies. He shakes his head, takes a sip of his beer. “I asked, didn’t I? Talk to me. Tell me what’s goin’ on.”

You groan. “I just…I wish I could turn my brain off. Just for a little while. No meetings, no call times. No helping my dad trim the trees in the yard when I’m home for the weekend.”

He laughs. “He rope you into that one too, huh?”

“Sure did.” You tense your fist, wince at the memory of splinters you were still plucking from your palm even weeks later.

“I got nothing to complain about,” you tell Joel, “I know that. This job is…it’s right where I want to be. Just – sometimes, I miss being back in Austin, following you around Costco and hiding from my dad. It’s like life was simpler then.”

Joel chokes. “I guarantee you,” he coughs, thumping his chest clear of beer, “life was not simpler. Not by a long shot. Goddamn.”

He swings to his feet and wanders across the room to his kitchen. Past his armchair, past the guitar mounted on the wall. Past the dining chair he always hangs his coat from. You know the anatomy of his home better than your own, it feels like.

You sure as hell miss it more than your own.

“Lemme see…” Joel squints over his phone. He leans over his kitchen counter. “What’s next weekend look like for you?”

You shrug. “My weekend off.”

“Nothing planned?”

“Nothing yet.”

He nods. “I’m meeting a supplier on Saturday afternoon, but if you can stand to be without me for a few hours, then…”

His eyebrows lift.

So do yours. “Then…?”

“I can look at flights,” Joel says, “get you booked tonight. Pick you up Friday, drop you off Sunday. Spend the whole weekend with your brain shut off, if that’s what you’re lookin’ for.”

A wave of warmth floods through your chest. Relief, maybe – or simple adoration for the man on the other end of the phone. Most likely, the way it always seems with Joel, it’s both at once.

He loves you. Enough to break every rule in the book. To go behind his best friend’s back for an entire summer. He loves you enough to let you go, watch you follow your wildest dreams, and then be the safety net at the end of each long day, each hard night.

He loves you enough to scratch everything off his calendar for a few days, just to make sure you’re okay. Just to hold you in his arms, heart beating a rhythm he knows better than his own. Just to sing you to sleep, and wake you up with burnt toast and runny eggs.

You pull the collar of your shirt over your nose and weep into the material. “I ever tell you how much I love you?”

He smiles. “Not half as much as I love you.”

“Gross.”

“I know.”

The laundromat door flings open.

Face now flushed and hair scraped back, the woman clocks you immediately and throws a pointed finger in your direction. “Are you coming to get your panties or what, little girl?”

She clicks her teeth and disappears again. The blind hanging over the door rattles with the force it slams closed.

“Guess that’s my cue,” you whisper, heaving to your feet. “Better go get my panties.”

“Why?” Joel’s making his way back outside. “Ain’t like you’re gonna need ‘em.”

You scoff. “Talk later, cowboy.”

Austin welcomes you back with a delayed flight, a screaming seatmate, and a raging headache.

The airport is busy. Loud busy. All chittering couples, hordes of kids with nauseatingly bright backpacks. You drag your suitcase through to arrivals, careful not to trip over the wheels of the stroller ahead.

When you spot his tall, dark figure weaving between bodies, the gate hushes. You move towards him by instinct, parting the crowd as you go. The magnet in your chest senses its partner drawing nearer, and nearer, and nearer.

And nearer, until he’s reaching out. He’s close enough that his hands land on your waist, and it’s the first time in three months that you’ve felt this weight – his weight, the way only he feels – all around you.

Joel pulls you in to his chest. He locks you in, resting his chin on your head.

“Hi, honey.”

You inhale his scent, breathe in the comfort of him. “Hi,” you exhale.

Tears prickle at your eyes. It feels stupid. He looks down at you, thumb swiping across your cheek, and a salty droplet spills.

“How was the flight?” he asks.

“Good.”

“You okay?”

“Perfect, now.”

“You look perfect,” Joel grins, “Look like the sun.”

And you could swat him away, could shrug him and his flirting off. The sun sure as hell doesn’t look stewed in three-hour plane, too tired to move and too clingy to unhook from her dad’s best friend’s arm.

But that’s not what he’s saying, is it?

You do look different. You feel different. You feel brand new. Golden – just like the sun.

These days, it feels like there are two versions of you. One, you’ve spent the better part of a year polishing off – electric and vibrant, eyes wide and head spinning, moving through her day like gliding on air and then collapsing in a heap come nightfall. Chaos with a clipboard and call sheet.

And the other – slower. Steadier. Surer on her feet, simpler in her ways. Dust under her heels and a Texan shine in her smile. Honeylike; moving where her body tells her to go, drinking up the world as she pleases.

There’s a moment, stood under the fluorescent lights of the terminal, where you feel the first give way to the second. Safe now, in Joel’s arms, to slip back into her old, worn boots and shutter her mind – even just for this weekend.

“Come on,” he whispers, wrapping his hand around yours. “Let’s get you home.”

And there never seemed like a better idea than that.

He keeps your things in his shower caddy.

Bottom basket, strictly yours. Shampoo and conditioner and bodywash and a loofah, all exactly where you left them last time you were here. He says it as he cranks the handle, holds his palm under the flow until it’s just right.

“The strawberry stuff…?” Joel nods to the bottle, face screwed.

You gasp. “You don’t like it?”

He shakes his head. “Like it on you. I smelled like a fruit farm for a week, baby.”

“Makes a change from wood trimmings,” you mutter, peeling the shirt from your chest.

Joel glares over his shoulder. “You wanna say that a little louder?”

“No, sir,” you whisper, and step into the cubicle.

The water pours over your head and down your spine, breathing life back into your body. You close your eyes and let it wash down your face. LA feels so distant, so lost to the steam and serenity in Joel’s ensuite.

He lingers in the doorway, watching as you turn under the shower. He smiles when you hold your hand out and flick your fingers.

“Soap, please.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, dropping it in your palm.

You slip the velvety bar over your skin. The soap lathers in thick, milky bubbles, cascading over your chest down to your hips. Your hands lift from your navel to cup your breasts, pinching your nipples between soft fingers.

Joel’s jaw ticks. He crosses his arms, shoulders tensing. “Easy, darlin’. Dancing with the devil here.”

It burns low in your stomach.

You pass him the bar back. “Maybe I want to dance,” you murmur. “Maybe he does, too.”

His eyebrows lift. “Maybe he does,” he agrees. He trades the soap for shampoo, tapping the bottle against your hip.

The heat grows under your skin. Having him watch, his close eye on you as you wash the suds from your hair and slick bodywash over your skin.

His eyes drift from your chest to your waist, looping up to your soaked eyelashes and dripping bottom lip, diving again between your legs.

Hungry. Starved, even.

Three months of secret photos and sexy phone calls to get you both by. Three months of imagining you, fist around his cock in the dead of night, coating his stomach just with the thought of you.

And right here, right now, in his shower: the real thing. The forbidden fruit. Body hot and skin soaked, just as desperate as he is. Just as needy.

You step forward, reaching for his shoulders. Arms around his neck, dampening the collar of his shirt, you pull him closer.

“Dance with me,” you whisper against his lips, stealing a kiss.

Joel’s gaze darkens. He takes your jaw and tilts your head back. Voice like thunder rolling over you, he warns, “I told someone we’d be somewhere.”

You smile, tugging on the hem of his shirt. “We’re running late. Something’s come up.”

His arms lift and you pull the cotton over his head, tossing it to the floor. He’s the same solid sculpture as always. Strong and wide, torso scattered with hair which thickens across the span of his chest.

He rids himself of his boots and jeans, kicks his underwear off, and joins you under the water. So big that he corners you, so tall that he has to adjust the showerhead.

Pressed up against your body; warm, manly scent raining over you. He’s hard, tucked right by your hip, rutting gently as he steals kiss after kiss.

He’s addicted to it. To you. Has been ever since that first night, the first taste of poison. Has been, probably, since that first glimpse of you last summer. For all the wrong reasons and in all the wrong ways, for better or worse –

You break him open. You make him weak.

Joel groans when you wrap your hand around him. That familiar weight in your grasp. He glances down to watch your slow strokes, fighting back a filthy smile.

“Missed you,” he breathes, voice lost to the patter of the shower. He slips a hand between your legs. “Ain’t gonna last long, are you?”

“Fuck,” you hiss, grinding into his palm. You toy with his bottom lip, nipping at the edges of his smirk. “We got all weekend. Just – just fuck me.”

He hikes your leg over his hip and lines up. A blooming ache when he notches at your hole, tip teasing your entrance.

Your back curls. You wrap your arms around Joel’s neck, whimpering into his chest.

“’s alright,” he kisses your neck, “Just take it nice ‘n slow. Get her used to me again, baby.”

He pushes inside, two heavy hands on your waist. Always in control, always easing you in. He holds you delicately, moving inch by inch, watching the twist of your brow and bite of your lip before sinking in further.

He reaches up and tilts the downpour to the wall. Lifts your fragile body, split in two on his cock, and pushes you against the tile.

Your cunt aches as he slides out. She clamps around his tip. It hurts – but you don’t want to let him go.

“Stay,” you cry, nails digging into his shoulders. “Stay inside me.”

He hums and presses his lips to the hinge of your jaw. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere, baby. I’m right here.”

His hips move forward. Your cunt opens for him the deeper he moves. Like welcoming him home, remembering the way it feels to be this full. The stretch of taking him, the air stolen from your lungs. The love you can never find the beginning nor the end of.

And then he’s moving quicker, sharper, one arm wrapped around your neck to cradle your head. Hips snapping against yours, slowing to a roll when you yelp.

Whispering sweet nothings in your ear – how good you’re taking him, how tight she is. How much he’s missed this, missed her, missed you. Never wants to let you go, never wants to be anywhere except right here, feeding you his cock and watching you come undone.

“Made for me, huh?” Joel grunts. He presses his forehead to yours and slips the words across your tongue. “All mine.”

“All yours,” you echo, weeping under him. The flame catches and curls around your stomach.

The missing piece to the last nine months. The dead-end dates, the hazy hookups. Awkward good mornings, and goodbyes that never seem to come quick enough. Sneaking off home to shower the scent of it away, to replace it with something sweeter.

Him.

Because none of them are him.

They don’t make you laugh and they don’t make you come. They don’t see you, don’t hang on your every word. They don’t – they can’t break your world apart and paint it something new. They don’t know your every move, don’t understand the most fleeting glances.

You could spend forever circling every bar and every diner; what do you do for work and where did you grow up. You could chase the tail of every flannel shirt, search all over for that twinkle in his eye.

They’re not him. They’ll never be him.

Joel coaxes you where he needs you. He fucks you until you’re quivering in his arms, head rolling across his shoulder. His thrusts begin to stall, breathing turns to panting, teeth sink into any part of your skin he can find.

He moans into your neck. The sound nudges you towards the edge.

“I’m close, baby,” he grits, “’m so close.”

You look up at him through tear-soaked eyes.

Three months. Since the last time he touched you, kissed you, fucked you like this. Since the last time he lost control, came deeper inside than anyone before, or anyone since.

Three months since the last time you held him in your hands, lined your lips with his, and begged him to stay in you.

Joel laughs. “Dangerous little game, darlin’.”

But he’s fading. He’s falling under, same as you are.

You want it. You need it. Need to be full of him – that ache when you walk, the warmth leaking down the inseam of your thighs. The feeling of being his, all his; ruined and wrecked in the sweetest way.

“Stay – inside,” you plead. “I want you to – want it so bad.”

“Keep begging, honey. Sound so cute when you’re desperate.”

“Please, Joel,” it’s getting harder to hold, “Just wanna feel you in me –”

“I know, I know,” he shushes.

You tense in his arms, gasping. “I’m gonna – come –”

“So,” Joel smirks, “come.”

And it snaps.

You scream into his chest. Your climax pulls you under, drowns you in a heavy wave of pleasure. Your hips lock, legs clamp around his waist as you cry out.

He plants a hand flat against the tile to steady himself. He holds you still as his own orgasm rolls through, pumping your swollen cunt with each rush of warm release.

You collapse against his body, bubbling and mumbling something incoherent.

He hears you, though.

He shuts the water off and rocks you back and forth. His cock slips from between your legs. “Shh, shh,” lips to your temple, “’s my girl. Such a good girl, baby. So good for me.”

You hum in response and pull yourself upright. You trace the shape of his beard, soaking wet and soft under your touch, following the droplets of water to his chin.

He kisses the tips of your fingers. “I love you,” he says. Chants it like a prayer, leaning closer and closer until his lips are against yours. “Love you more ‘n anything.”

You giggle. “You’re tickling me.”

Joel nuzzles his nose into your neck. He wriggles his fingers under your ribcage. “Can’t get enough of you,” his tongue swipes across your hot skin, “Swear to God, baby, you’re killing me.”

“Joel,” your head falls back with a clap of laughter, “Joel, stop – oh, my God, you have to stop, please – Joel!”

He hoists you onto his hips and turns. Hands still exploring, still pinching and squeezing everywhere they shouldn’t be, he carries you out to his bedroom and drops you onto the mattress.

“Here,” he chuckles, wrapping a towel around your body. He knots it over your chest and rubs your waist, before flopping down onto the bed with a sigh.

You roll over on top of him and fix the dripping hair from his forehead. “Missed you,” you whisper, trailing kisses along his collarbone.

He smiles. His heart flutters beneath yours. “Missed you more,” he says.

His semen drips between your legs. He’s softening against the inside of your thigh. The bed is soaked, sheets that’ll need changed before you sleep tonight. You’re tired, spent, pussy throbbing from the loss of him – and it’s all so perfect.

Being here, with him. Seeing him, feeling him on your body. In your body, for crying out loud. Holding him, kissing him, loving him up close.

It’s fucking perfect.

“What are we running late for?” you ask.

Joel’s eyes flutter open. He cocks his head, frowning.

“You said we had somewhere to be,” you clarify.

“Oh,” he winces, “Uh, your dad’s. He’s havin’ us for dinner.”

“Oh,” you echo. “When is he expecting –?”

He glances at the clock. “Half hour ago.”

“Nice.” You push yourself up, slipping from his grasp. “Well, this is about to be awkward.”

Joel folds his arms behind his head. He tracks your flurried movements: lugging your bag across the floor, tearing through it for an outfit that doesn’t scream, Your best friend just fucked me senseless in his shower.

When you straighten and lift your arms, eyes wide, his lips turn.

“You said you wanted to dance, baby. I was just following orders.”

The sun filters through the leaves, breathing back and forth with the sway of the trees.

You’re horizontal in a deckchair, feet in Joel’s lap, blanket around your shoulders. Full on burgers and baseball talk; if it weren’t for your dad’s riveting conversation about his new lawnmower, you’d probably be asleep.

“Ride-on,” he tells Joel, nodding. It makes gardening a real thrill, apparently. He flicks a hand over the span of the yard. “Whole thing done in less than twenty minutes. Hank says he’s half a mind to make an investment himself.”

Joel purses his lips. He strokes your ankles soothingly. “Sounds like a good buy,” he placates.

Your dad drums on his armrests, admiring his yard some more. He mumbles something about raking the leaves, painting the fence, then – with a vigor that makes you jump, he taps your arm.

“How’s work, kiddo? Still rockin’ ‘n rollin’?”

Your eyes flash across Joel’s. The hell does that even mean?

The corner of his lip twitches. Your guess is as good as mine.

“Yep,” you lie. “Living the dream, Dad.”

Joel says nothing. He hasn’t told your dad why you came home – hasn’t even mentioned the tears outside the laundromat. Your secret is safe with him, you know that. Some puzzles are easier to figure out, the less eyes that are on them.

He hasn’t even brought it up with you yet. Granted, you’ve been home all of four hours, and a solid quarter of that time has been spent naked with him back at his place – but he’s waiting for you to make the first move.

This weekend doesn’t have to be about work. Hell, it doesn’t even have to be about you feeling homesick. It can be as simple as you hadn’t seen your dad for a few weeks, or you heard the news about the damn lawnmower and just had to pay a visit.

It’s what you’ve always loved so much about Joel. It’s what reeled you into him in the first place.

He just lets you be. No questions, no pressure, no worries. He knows you’ll figure it out – you always do. And if he knows that, then it makes you believe in it, too.

Dad sinks back into his chair with a sigh. “What’s on the cards this weekend, then?”

“Joel’s down San Antonio way tomorrow,” you yawn, “Some supplier meeting.”

“You don’t feel like a road trip?”

Your eyes roll to Joel. He’s already staring back. You cock an eyebrow, smirking into your glass.

His shoulder rolls in a shrug. “Your call, chief,” he says, tipping his drink to you.

The minute he mentioned the meeting last week, you knew you’d be tagging along. Two hours each way and an hour in between is too big a chunk of your weekend together to miss out on.

That – and you’ve missed Joel’s front-seat singing.

It doesn’t matter what you planned on doing – rolling around his bed for three days straight, driving to San Antonio and back. Hell, trimming your dad’s trees and cleaning his guttering.

As long as you’re doing it with Joel, it’s enough.

It’s what you came home for in the first place.

The drive passes quickly enough. Joel’s truck doesn’t have Bluetooth, and he only keeps three discs in his glove compartment: Don McLean’s American Pie, a Guitar Classics compilation album, and a blank disc with SARAH MILLER, SECOND GRADE scrawled in Sharpie.

He whips it from your hands when you fish it out of the compartment.

“Listen, listen to this,” Joel says, slotting it in the tray. “Found it a couple weeks ago. I listen to it when I’m drivin’ to work.”

Her squeaky, seven-year-old voice punches through the cabin. “Welcome to my presentation –” she roars into the mic, pausing when a voice picks up in the background. “Huh?” Sarah asks.

“You’re holdin’ the mic too close,” Joel murmurs, almost fourteen years younger. “Farther. Farther,” he says, and then – “Alright. Go.”

“Welcome to my presentation on Amelia E-Earhart,” she resumes, clearing her throat. “She…Oh, Daddy, we gotta restart. I forgot to tell ‘em my name.”

Joel covers his laughter with his fist, reciting it line for line. “Tommy said he’s gonna make her a copy for her birthday,” he says.

“Oh, my God. She’s gonna hate you guys, you know that, right?”

He nods. “I’m countin’ on it.”

Sarah rounds off a few facts about twentieth century air travel before Joel swaps her for the radio. He hands you the disc and you place it safely back in the glove compartment.

You curl up in the passenger seat, swinging your legs over to his lap.

He rubs your calves and glances over, smiling. “You okay over there?”

“I’m more tired than I was when I landed,” you reply, and he laughs.

You haven’t had much of a chance to catch up on sleep. The second you made it home last night, your dress was on the floor at the foot of Joel’s bed. He woke you this morning with his lips on your thighs, your underwear around your ankles.

He was midway through cooking breakfast when you floated into the kitchen to return the favor. The toast burned, the eggs shriveled to a crisp, and your knees bruised.

Fuck it, right? You’ll miss him when you’re gone. When all that’s left are the memories, and the sound of his climax through speakerphone.

An afternoon spent on the road is good recovery time, then, for all that’s waiting for you when you make it back to Joel’s tonight.

A few off-key covers of fifty number ones from the last fifty years later, you’re pulling into a barren lot headered by a beige trailer. The supplier springs out – a beefy guy with a full head of thick, white hair. He crosses the lot as Joel parks up.

Joel rounds the truck, pausing when he spots you lingering at the tailgate. He curves a hand around your neck, thumb circling over your pulse point. “You comin’?”

You twist the hem of your tee around your finger. “Maybe I’ll stay out here and wait. It’s a nice night, and you ain’t gonna be too long, right?”

He shakes his head. “Be as fast as I can. If it gets dark out, you come inside, alright?”

You shuffle into his embrace. “Promise.”

He kisses your head and steps back. “Here,” he slips the flannel from his shoulders, “If you’re sittin’ out. Got my phone if you need me.”

He disappears inside and the door falls closed. A cluster of moths twirls around the light on the trailer’s side. You hop up on the bed of the truck, crossing Joel’s shirt around your frame, and nestle against the back window.

The sun pulls down towards the horizon, sending dregs of daytime in ripples to the stars. She’s still alight just beyond the trees, still burning a hole in the sky. She winks at you from a distance.

The world looks different from Austin. Bigger, like the view from your bedroom window. There’s always more, just beyond the horizon. There has to be more, right? More than four pink walls and a chest of drawers. More than Sal’s store, more than Rita’s cross stitch.

You chased that more halfway across the country – only to realize it was in your hands the whole time.

Him and his lazy smile, sarcasm as thick as the accent he speaks it in. Rolled up sleeves and messy collar; a half-empty cup of coffee and a cracked watch face.

He’s all the more you could ever need.

You’re still perched on the tailgate, staring skyward, when Joel finishes up.

He swaggers across the lot, tan arms speckled with dry dirt, boots kicking up dust. He tosses a fistful of papers in the front seat, then drifts around to settle between your knees.

“Hi,” he whispers, tucking his nose under your jaw.

“Hi.”

He plants his hands either side of your hips and kisses your neck. “Home time, sweet girl.”

You glance over your shoulder.

This time tomorrow, you’ll be on your flight back. Row twelve, seat C. Joel’s flannel over your shoulders, slowly forgetting the scent of him, mile by mile. You’ll sleep with it tucked under your chin until it no longer smells like oak or pine, or the mint bodywash he uses.

You’ll miss it the way you’ll miss him. Holding onto every last moment. Deep morning voice, warm, safe embrace. The rumble of a laugh in his chest, the glimmer or mischief in his eye. The touches he saves just for you; the words he whispers when the lights turn out.

You wrap your arms around his neck.

“Can we go watch the sunset somewhere?”

Joel glances off behind you. His eyes flit back to yours, sunlight catching their ochre and setting him ablaze.

“Get in,” he pulls you down, “I know just the spot.”

It’s almost dusk by the time you reach the outlook.

A twisty dirt road which opens up between some trees, halfway out of the city. Joel reverses the truck and parks in the clearing. The two of you slide onto the tailgate, sharing a bag of fruit gums he had stored alongside Sarah’s CD.

The stars turn one by one, dotted across deep indigo. The last of the day’s blush still lingers where the city meets the sky. Tucked between trees and twilight, it feels as though you’re the only two in the world.

Joel holds the bag out, and you pinch a couple pieces of candy. “How you feelin’?” he asks, looking out to the skyline.

“Okay, I guess,” you mutter. “This has been a nice reset. I wish I could take you back with me.”

Joel laughs. “I don’t.”

“No?” you suckle on the sweet fruit, “I think you’d fit right in.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” He shakes his head, pinching your chin. “Naw, LA is yours. It’s something you did, all by yourself. I am so proud of you, honey, do you know that? I mean, I miss you like hell, I really do…”

He glances back down, rustling the bag in his hands. He’s hiding, you know him well enough. Staring at his lap instead of in your eye. When he looks back up, there’s a glimmer along his waterline.

“…But the way I feel any time you call, and I know…I know you’re out there doin’ something you actually give a shit about. You ain’t stuck here, too big for your own bedroom, too comfortable for anywhere else.”

He slips a hand over your knee and squeezes.

It’s infuriating, how right he always is. You’re working your fucking ass off, and for good reason. Austin was always too small for the world inside your head. Missing each other is a price you’re both willing to pay, for the luxury of not missing out on every dream you’ve ever had.

But –

“What if it keeps getting harder?” you sniff, “What if I need you more?”

Joel clicks his teeth. “’s always gonna get harder. That’s life, darlin’. But the hard times won’t last forever. And when it feels real tough, and you feel like you can’t do it no more, you call me. You jump on the next flight. You switch your brain off, and you let me take care of you for a little while.”

You shake your head. Tears break loose, rolling down your cheeks. “I can’t ask that of you, Joel, you got your own shit to worry about –”

“Baby.” He sighs. “I’m old. I’ve done everything I think I oughta do. You know, the days I know you’re gonna be callin’ at eight o’clock – it’s all I can think about. I’m at work checking my watch every five minutes.”

You giggle, turning into the crook of his arm.

“It’s true,” Joel snickers, “I’m like a goddamn teenager. That’s what you do to me.”

He catches you and pulls you against his chest.

“What I’m saying is – there ain’t nothing that matters more to me in the world than you. My own shit to worry about? You mean – you?”

“Shut up,” you scoff, spitting tears into his shirt.

“You call,” he says, resolute, “and I’ll be there.”

“I’m calling,” you whisper. “I’m always calling.”

“Then I’m always here.”

You sit back, bracing yourself on Joel’s thighs. He wipes the wet from your cheeks and fixes his shirt over your shoulders.

“You know, one day,” you tell him, “you’re gonna get a call, and it’s not just gonna be for the weekend.”

He smiles. “I know.”

“One day, I’m gonna come home forever, Joel.”

“I know,” he repeats. “And I’ll be on the front porch waitin’.”

[mrsmnsn]

“You look more like Kirk Hammet”

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

another day, another fluff fic 🤭

wc: 1.2k

author’s note- The reader is Dustin’s sister!!!

Enjoy!

*********

Now, you were at your work, at Family Video, just waiting for him. It was like a routine. Every friday he would walk through the door and search for movies for his weekend.

At first, you only knew Eddie because of his reputation. "Eddie 'the freak' Munson" as the people in your school used to say. Honestly, you never knew why people would call him that. Only because he liked to play Dungeons & Dragons? Your brother did too, and he was no freak! Was he incredibly annoying? Yes! But it's not like he would worship the devil for that.

But with time, you got to know him a little bit better and you got to see he was nothing but a sweetheart. That's probably when you started to crush on him. You were in the senior year and, consequently, would share classes with him. It's not like you would talk to him all the time, but the times you did, even if it was just to say that he dropped his keys on the floor, your heart would melt.

On this friday, Dustin said that he wanted to come with you for work because he wanted to talk to Steve. So there he was, whispering something to Steve while Robin were organizing the new movies in the shelves and you were just singing along with the radio, which was playing a song of Mötley Crüe, a band you definitely didn't only like because of Nikki Sixx.

When the bell rang, announcing that someone was entering, you stopped singing and turned around seeing him walking to you. You could feel your cheeks getting red.

"Hey you. How was your week?" he said placing the movies he got in the last week in the counter

"Hi Eddie. It was good, thanks." You said looking at his hands full of rings

"Do you mind if i leave this here while i look for some movies?" he asked already looking to the horror section

"No, not at all!" You said giving him a smile which he reciprocated. You felt your stomach do a flip

As he walked to the shelves, Robin got close to you, giving you a mischievous smirk.

"What?" you asked and she only raised her eyebrows. "Oh please Robin, we're at work."

"I didn't say anything! I just think that, you know... you should go for it. You have a shot!" She said while you both looked at him trying to make a decision between two movies.

"Oh yeah, like if thats true! I don't think i have and honestly i don't think i want to figure it out." You say putting your hair into a ponytail "What if he reject me?"

"You'll only know if you ask babe." She said going to the back to get more boxes

Of course you wanted to say something to him, but how could you? You didn't know how things could go if he said he wasn't interested on you. It's not like he was going to spread gossip, he could never. If you knew one thing about him, it was that he was not like the jerks at school, he was respectful and gentle. Well, at least with you. All you got....

"Y/n!" He called you making you snap out of your trance.

"Sorry. I was just... thinking." you said getting the movies on his hands. Your fingers touched for a moment and you could still feel the warmth from his hands.

"What got you all up in your head?" He said taking his wallet and with a little concern in his face.

"Oh nothing. Just, stupid teenage girl stuff." You said laughing a little and he didn't say anything else.

The song in the radio was another one from Mötley Crüe and you hummed the song while handing him the movies he got.

"You like Mötley Crüe?" He said trying to see if he heard you hum the song or if he was just mistaken.

"Tell that to her bigger then 40 inches Nikki Sixx poster in her bedroom wall" Robin said behind you looking to the computer.

"Robin! Shut up!" You scolded her. It was not even that big "I'm sorry" you said looking at Eddie who was getting amused

"Oh yeah? Nikki Sixx, huh?" He said giggling "I look a little like him, don't i?"

You study his face for a second, as if you needed to. "You look more like Kirk Hammet"

"Oh yeah, this one is making company in the wall for Nikki too!"

"ROBIN!" You were getting redder by each second. So embarrassed to look at the man in front of you. But he found the whole situation very funny.

"Well, i'll take that as a compliment." He said looking at your eyes "So, Metallica too? You don't seem to like this kind of music"

"I wouldn't say that i'm a huge fan of them, i only know a couple songs and that's it. It's not like i listen to metal all the time like you. I only have the posters because i, uh, i think they're pretty" You said nervously talking before thinking and not really realizing what you're saying.

"It a'right. They're pretty metal!" He said but got interrupted by you brother

"Eddie! What are you doing here?" Dustin said happy to see his friend. You didn't know how they knew each other

"What do you think?" He said showing the video tapes on his hands "What're you doing here?"

"I'm here with my sister! Do you know her?" Dustin said looking at you

"Y/n is your sister? Of course i know her! How come i didn't know you were related?" he said looking back at you

"You've never asked if i had a sister."

"How do you know him?" I asked curious as well, too confused to connect the dots

"He's my dungeon master y/n, i told you i got in a d&d club!" Now everything connected.  "Can i talk to you? i had a incredible idea for a campaign!" Your brother said while Eddie head out of the store

"Sure. Bye gorgeous!" He said winking at you and that was it. You were melted inside.

"What are you waiting for? He's flirting with you! It's your chance." Robin said giving you courage to go after him before he left

You stormed out of Family Video when Duntin came in again. There he was ready to leave when he saw you.

"Hey, uhm, hi." You said too nervous going to his opened window. His van was tall so you were face to face with him.

How could he get even more hot with sunglasses on. You had to be tough.

"So i, uh, i was just wondering, you know, if there was any chance of us going out sometime, even to watch a movie if you want, i just really like you and"... You were cut. Speaking as fast as you could, trying to be brave, you didn't realize he shut your mouth with a kiss.

When he let go of you, leaving you speechless he only smiled at you "You're so cute when you're nervous. I'll pick you up at seven, how about that? You can come to my house to watch these movies i got."

"I'd love that!" You said in a state of haze. Looking at him passionately

"Then it's a date. I'll see you sweetheart" and he drove away.

You stood out there, watching him leave, touching your lips to make sure it wasn't a dream.

"I told you, you had a shot" Robin came to you putting her arms around your shoulders .

[marvelobsessed134]

Groupie Love

Mötley Crüe x Fem!reader

A/n: Told y’all it was gonna be a gang bang

Warnings: smut with like 0 plot, Dom!Mötley, Sub!reader, squirting, fingering, gang bang, degradation, praise kink, reader is gagged, bondage, and I think that’s it.

No summary what’s the point

You don’t know how it happened, but you were naked lying on Nikki Sixx’s bed, the four men standing around you with their hard cocks dripping with precum.

Your wrists were tied to the bed posts, you were just helplessly laying there. “Look at her,” Nikki grinned, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “She’s all ready for us now. I’ll bet she’s soaking wet.” And you were, your slick dripping onto the red sheets.

“Yeah, bet shes been thinking about this for awhile. You’re a little minx.” Mick smirked. You’ve never heard such words come out of his mouth before.

You were gagged too, the ball gag secured snuggly around your head, drool slipping out from the corners of your mouth. You whimpered and Vince walked up to you, caressing your face. “I know, you want us to touch you. But you won’t have to wait any longer right boys?”

“Yeah!” Tommy smirked, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. Nikki rolled his eyes before coming level with your pussy. He licked a bold strip against it and you moaned, though it was muffled by the gag.

You squirmed, pulling at the cuffs as he ate you out. You saw Tommy walk towards you, groping your left breast while Vince groped your right. Mick straddled you, his cock grazing against your chin. The guitarist unclasped the gag, and quickly replaced it with his cock.

Your eyes widened at the sudden force, tears forming in your eyes as you choked and gagged around his length as he thrusted into you. “Fuck yes, such a good cocksucker.” You hummed in agreement, the vibrations causing him to roll his eyes back as he sped up his movements. Between this, the two men tweaking and sucking your nipples, and the man between your legs you were overstimulated but you didn’t want it to stop.

You moaned around Micks cock as you came, squirting your juices all over Nikki’s face.

“Holy fuck, you taste so good babe.” The bassist groaned.

It wasn’t long before mick came down your throat. You had a hard time swallowing it but you did like the good girl you were.

Then, roles were reversed and now Vince was between your legs, pumping his fingers in and out of you, rubbing your clit at a rapid speed. Tommys cock was down your throat, and Mick and Nikki were jerking off while playing with your tits.

“If I make her cum the fastest I get her pussy.” Vince announced.

“Yeah? Well- fuck- you can’t make a woman cum like I can.” Nikki boasted.

“Yeah? Watch and learn, Bassist.” The frontman said before hitting your g spot every time. You were gagging around Tommys huge cock, and you felt cum splatter on your torso.

You clenched around Vince’s fingers and moaned loudly around Tommy as you squirted once again.

“Ha, see? Fuckin knew it.” The blonde smirked before licking up your juices and quickly entering into you, wasting no time fucking into you.

Tommy shot his load down your throat, and you gagged once again before finally swallowing it. “Such a good little slut.” Tommy praised.

“Fuck yeah she is, taking us like a good girl.” Mick commented.

“She’s so fucking tight oh my god.” Vince moaned.

“Taking Vince’s fat cock like a slut.” Nikki groaned.

Before you knew it, the singer was coming inside of you and you were cumming once again, feeling extremely overwhelmed. You let your eyes close, and soon enough you drifted into unconsciousness.

[aphrogeneias]

kickstart my heart — one-shot

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: the first time eddie sees your bare chest isn't the way he imagined it would be, and he'd imagined plenty of times.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: smut (+18), dirty thoughts, suggestive dialogue, for the purpose of this story, eddie is a boobs man (but we all know he enjoys the whole package), allusions to sex but no graphic descriptions. jeff is implied to be gay because in my heart all of cc are somewhere in the alphabet mafia.

author's note: elaborating on this. i want to remind you that this is a silly piece and i hope you take It as such <3 also i am incredibly rusty when it comes to writing, i'm sorry if this isn't great.

There were thousands of people around him, including the band on the stage in front of them, but Eddie couldn't look anywhere else but at you, eyes wide with a weird mix of emotions.

As cold sweat made his previously hot skin shiver, all he could think was "this wasn't how I thought it would go". Believe him, he'd thought about it a million times. When he needed to stay awake in class, when you wore low cut tops and tight shirts, in the blessed days you decided to opt out of a bra, late at night with his hand gripping his hard length, leaking all over his mattress. He thought about it an embarrassing amount.

In his daydreams, though, the first time he saw them was very much different. He had visions of you sprawled out on his bed, him undressing you slowing, showing your bare chest little by little until it was revealed in the low light of his bedroom, or dragging you to the ever dirty man's bathroom at The Hideout and ripping your clothes off your body in a rush to worship it.

No matter how much he thought about it, nothing prepared him for the fact that the first time he saw your tits was at a Mötley Crüe concert, in the middle of a crowd of thousands of other people.

Eddie hadn't even wanted to go in the first place — he's not very fond of metal of the glam persuasion, but you and Gareth had convinced him and the other boys to go. Jeff and Grant never passed on an opportunity to watch a good concert, and Eddie just wanted to be near you, any excuse was good enough.

He had spent the night happy, hands tucked in the pockets of his leather jacket, enjoying the feeling of the music coursing through his body, running through his veins like an adrenaline high. The bass and drums beating in sync with his heartbeat, feeling it deep within his ribcage. It felt good, like it always had. It also felt good watching you in your element, hair a mess after headbanging all night, skin glowing from sweat and the glitter in your makeup, dancing without a care in the world. The way he thinks you always should be.

It was funny at first. When the band made a pause and the members started addressing the audience, he was about to turn to you when the drummer made some particular lewd comments about the "beautiful ladies" in the crowd, expecting you to laugh with him. The whole rockstar shtick doesn't work on you, he knew that much — whenever he tried pulling something like that you'd just roll your eyes, which only spurred him on because he loved watching your beautiful eyes roll up, though he'd like to do that in other ways. What he saw instead was you whispering in Jeff's ear, the pair of you cackling at each other, too conspiratorially for Eddie's taste. 

With his brows joined together in confusion, he watched you lift yourself on Jeff's shoulders, and after that everything happened in slow motion. The drummer had gone and asked to see some tits from the girls in the crowd, and as ridiculous as that sounded, a lot of girls obliged. You included, for his shock.

Gareth blushed and looked down, Grant closed his hands over his eyes, Jeff was laughing — the bastard was the only one unaffected when you lifted your top up to your head for no more than a second, but it was enough to torture him for the rest of the night. He watches you get down to stand on the ground once again, still laughing, and Eddie could tell you were a little flustered, but mostly you looked like you were having a good time.

He couldn't blame you, wouldn't blame you. He had no right to tell you what to do or not to show your body, you could do whatever you wanted. But, as the band proceeded with their setlist, and your eyes met with his, a playful look and a tentative smile on your face, Eddie couldn't reciprocate. He felt jealous, jealous of everyone who got to see you like that too, and frustrated for being able to look but probably never being able to touch the way he wants to, he felt protective over you, afraid that some other guy would feel entitled to look at you or touch you disrespectfully after that. His mind started reeling, and he could barely distinguish the music anymore.

In his brooding, his fists clenching where they still rested in his pockets, he missed the way you looked down, eyes turning sad, unsure about what your best friend's strange expression meant.

"Are you mad at me?"

Your question caught him by surprise, because you'd barely talked during the whole trip back home. The guys were rowdy as usual, sitting in the backseat of his van, talking about the highlights of their night, making fun of you for your little groupie moment, which had you brushing them off with a laugh and smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

Eddie felt guilty. He didn't mean to make you feel like that, but he couldn't stop his mind from wandering back to that moment, and he couldn't stop the blood from flowing downwards, his pants uncomfortably tight at that point. If you noticed his erection, he was ready to throw himself out of the car in shame.

It didn't help that you were right there beside him, thighs looking delectable sitting in his passenger seat, his hand itching to take place on your knee like it always did whenever he drove you places. He could feel the faint smell of your perfume, and see the way you crossed your arms in front of your chest, not helping with his problem at all.

You had only approached him when he'd stopped the van in front of your house, after he had dropped all the others at theirs. 

"What? No, I'm not…"

You interrupted when he was about to start stammering. "Because if you are, I really don't understand why, and if it's about what I did earlier, you have no right to. You're not my dad, you're not my boyfriend…"

A bitter laugh escaped him before he could help it. "I'm well aware, sweetheart."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Still frustrated, he pinches his nose between his fingers. "I'm not mad at you, I'm not judging you", he looks at you then, pointing a ringed finger in your general direction, "I'll have you know I'm a feminist, 'kay?"

You snort. "Okay, Mr. Feminist. What is it, then?"

"I just…", he sighs, "It wasn't supposed to be like that."

Maybe it was the couple of joints you all shared on the way home that had his lips loose like that. Maybe he was tired of holding it all in, his feelings spilling out of him like a dam breaking. Either way, it was out there.

"What wasn't supposed to be like that?" You asked slowly, testing the waters after feeling a shift in the conversation.

"I wasn't supposed to see you like that, I thought the first time I'd see you naked would be different."

Eddie couldn't meet your eyes. He could tell you thought it was funny, with the way you looked like you were holding back a smile. He was never bashful around you, that was the first time you saw him like that.

A lot of firsts for one night, it seemed.

"You think about seeing me naked?" You raised your brow, spurring him on. 

"Yes." He says, simply. Swallowing loudly, the tension grows inside the van. "And I never planned to tell you that, but now is as good a time as ever, I guess."

You scoot a little closer, putting an arm on the back of his seat. "Can I tell you a secret too, just to make us even?"

Eddie just nods, unconsciously getting closer to you as well. You can feel the heat of each other's bodies, an electric current running between you. You draw your mouth near his ear, and whisper "I think about you too."

"Yeah?" Eddie feels his confidence slowly return, his dream coming true right before his eyes. His pretty best friend reciprocating what he thought was his most perverted secret? Couldn't be real — but it was. "We should do something about that, shouldn't we? Gotta give you something other than your imagination to work with."

He wasn't able to resist tucking a fallen piece of your hair back behind your ear. You shifted on your seat, rubbing your thighs together. Eddie took that as encouragement, drawing even closer, hand finally moving to touch the soft skin of your thigh.

"Gonna do you one better, Ed." Your voice lowered, filled with promise. "You can look, and you can touch. How does that sound?"

"Sounds like we've waited long enough."

Later that night, after you were done riding him in the backseat of his van and he'd fucked you on the floor of your bedroom as you desperately tried not to wake the other people in your house, after his hands and mouth explored your body and mapped every inch of your chest, leaving his mark all over it, you'd joked, with a soft giggle at the memory, that you would do the same thing you did that night at the next gig he'd have at local bar.

The only answer you had was an unnecessarily long drag of his cigarette as he laid beside you on the purple comforter of your bed. "If you want me to not last through the set without dragging you out of there early, go ahead."

You'd just kept laughing.

[hollywoodroses]

Life of a glam metal groupie | a guns n’ roses headcanon fic

a/n: this is my very first guns n’ roses fan fiction written as a headcanon. I am a bit nervous as I am new to this band.

a/n #2: since I am new to this band, here are some blogs I visit to get inspiration: @their80smichelle @unknownperson246 @misseptember2001 @duffslut

You are duff’s best friend from high school and agree to tour with guns n’ roses as the boys official groupie. This is what life is really like on the road.

Warnings: smut, fem!slash, smoking & alcohol - I went a little crazy with this one, sorry in advanced 🥺 I hope you like it

You have been friends with duff since freshman year of high school

You were a bit odd, you wore glasses and got teased many times from school mates.

When you both met axl a year later, he convinced you get a make-over

To your surprise, there was a talent scout at the hair salon and she gave you an offer to pose for playboy magazine

You agreed as you felt it would give you a confidence boost (with parents permission, you were shocked they both said yes)

You were officially crowned the guns n’ roses groupie in the summer of 1985, three months after the band was formed

Once you graduated high school, guns n’ roses had their debut in 1987 and got a chance to be the opening act for bon jovi

Duff begged you to join the tour for company 😌😉

You developed a smoking habit due to stress of touring and dealing with teenage girls who wanted a piece of the boys

Nights were spent hooking up with duff, he would eat you out to help you get rid of tension

While he just liked to cuddle with you as you felt so far away during the commotion of preparing for concerts 🥺

You invited a young school girl from alabama to join you on tour. You were lonely being the only girl on tour with two rock bands

You started sharing a bed with your new girl friend. (she’s a girl and your friend)

During a scary movie, she kissed you and you forgot about the film

The tour ended in 1988 and you decided to move in with the band as they continued to record music

You married slash in 1991 and a daughter the following year

You became a stay-at-home mom and lived on the road with slash as he performed with guns n’ roses and worked on this solo career

Your best friends are pamela anderson and bobbie brown

You write a successful blog about your life of a glam metal groupie and playboy bunny on tumblr. It’s a main blog so you follow fans of guns n’ roses, mötley crüe and bon jovi.

Your blog has 123,785 followers 🥹

end

[sstaaar]

te emo! :P

[ghostinavenue]

FEARLESS

Summary: You sneak out of your house to go to a party and meet up with Tommy.

Pairings: TommyLee x Fem!Reader

In my head Tommy is the sweetest rockstar on earth, hence this fic. !!

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It was a stormy friday night. You were in your room sitting by the window, watching how lightings illuminated the sky before crashing down into a thunder. The tight golden dress you had found in your wardrobe a few minutes ago was still on you while you waited for the storm to cease in order to go out, but that was not happening any time soon.

You had met this guy Tommy a few days ago. He had seen you walking out of college and approached you. “There’s a party at my friend’s house on friday, Vince, you should come over,” He had said, handing you a piece of paper with an address written on it. “Also, my band’s playing, Mötley Crüe, we’re killing it.” He winked at you before walking away with that gorgeous silly smile on his face.

You wanted to go to this party so bad, but your parents would not let you go out if it was raining like that, so you decided to sneak out. Your bedroom was on a second floor so you opened the window and carefully threw some pillows on the ground before jumping out, which made the fall a lot softer. Rain was instantly pouring down on you, and according to the paper Tommy had given you, his friend’s house was a few blocks away, so you decided to run.

After a few minutes of consistently running and stopping to catch your breath every once in a while, you made it to the house. You could hear loud music coming from inside so you peeped through the window. There they were, the famous “Mötley Crüe”. Tommy was playing the drums, his messy black hair was all over his face, and he was wearing a bit of makeup, which made you giggle. You didn’t know the other guys, but you surely did spot the older man playing the guitar, which made you frown, imagining it was maybe this guy Vince’s relative.

Suddenly the music stopped, they were done playing, and Tommy looked up in your direction, staring directly at you. He squinted his eyes as to trying to figure out who you were. You chuckled and waved at him, and this seemed to be enough for him to recognize you because he jumped up from his drum set and made his way to you.

“Y/N!” He closed the door behind him, now you were both standing there in the rain. “Have you seen me play?” He asked, that same cute silly smile forming up on his face. You were about to answer when the music started playing again, this time without the drums. Tommy didn’t seem to care about that, because he stayed with you.

You leaned closer to his ear, tiptoeing because he was much more taller. “You’re great,” You said quite loudly in his ear, pulling back afterwards to give him a smile. Now he moved closer to your ear and said, “You look gorgeous, may I have this dance?”. As he offered his hand to you, you couldn’t help but laugh as he was clearly a little drunk, but you took his hand and you walked him to the driveway.

At this point, you were both soaking wet, your dress was almost glued to your body, and Tommy’s leather pants were glistening under the raindrops, but you didn’t care, because both of you started to goofily dance to the rhythm of the music that came from inside the house. You jumped around and laughed, and the drummer did just the same, mimicking you, which made it all even funnier. You were having a great time.

The rain was starting to stop, and you were running out of breath, so you grabbed the black haired man’s arm and pulled him down to the ground with you, lying down there, facing up to the sky. Neither of you were talking, but Tommy’s hand quietly reached yours, quickly interlocking fingers.

“Is this your first time dancing in the rain with a girl you have just met?” You asked turning your head to the side, looking directly at him. He smiled before replying, “Yeah, I would probably do it again, only with you.” You bit your lip at his response, feeling a bundle of butterflies suddenly flying in your stomach; and without thinking it any further, you placed your hands on Tommy’s cheeks and kissed him, there, on the floor.

The drummer stayed still for a moment before placing one of his hands on your waist and gently pushing himself above you, deepening the kiss. His lips were soft and his tongue explored your mouth tenderly, he knew what he was doing and you were enjoying it. Black strands of hair were tickling your face so you had to pull away from him a few times, giggling, which made him chuckle with you before giving quick pecks to your face and neck.

“I have to go back inside, Nikki’s gonna kill me” He interrupted, standing up and offering you his hand to help you get up as well. “Will you stay and see me play?”. You wanted to stay with him, now and probably for the rest of your life, but you knew you had to be back home. It was getting too late.

“I have to leave now,” You said, your hands resting on his shoulders, “But I promise I will come and see you playing the next time your band is performing”. Tommy seemed disappointed, but he agreed and laid a gentle kiss on your forehead before walking back inside the house, and you could hear all the boys calling him out for disappearing; but you felt as if you had just lived the start to your own fairytale.

[biancadjarin]

Being home ec partners with perv!Eddie

18+

pairing: Perv!Em x Cheerleader!Fem!Reader

warnings: nothing too explicit here, use of mommy/daddy nicknames, mention of boner.

a/n: ok so after reading @mamibaddie ‘s perv!bestfriend!eddie hc’s I can’t get playing “mommy and daddy” with Eddie out of my head😔. I’m thinking this will be 2 maybe 3 parts.

Eddie’s leg bounces as Mötley Crüe flows through his headphones. He’s in the last desk in the back of the class. Home Economics. He figured it’d be an easy A and if he wants to graduate this year, he needs all the A’s he can get. Or at least a C.

He hasn’t been paying attention all class period, getting lost in his thick Hellfire notebook, planning the next campaign. He glances up occasionally to steal a look at you, sitting pretty in the second row, long hair thrown over your shoulder, short cheerleader skirt fanned around your waist and hanging off the edge of your seat.

You peek back at him when the teacher gives you free time toward the end of class. He looks so cute, usual scowl on his face as his tongue pokes out of his lips, hand moving quickly as he writes and doodles. You smile as you walk over to him.

You drop into his spread thighs, making yourself comfortable in his lap. His eyebrows furrow until his eyes shoot up and realize it’s you. Your glossy lips mouth something to him and he stares at you in a daze, free hand that isn’t holding his pen settled on your knee.

You push his headphones off his head, Vince Neil’s voice filling the space between you two until he clicks the tape player off. “What?” He croaks out, throat dry all of a sudden. “I said ‘hi daddy!’” you repeat in a sweet sing-song. His jaw drops, not sure he heard you right. You stare at him with wide eyes, expecting him to answer you.

“What?” He repeats, a little laugh escaping his lips this time. His eyes scan down your body, the little keyhole of skin peeking out of the middle of your cheer uniform catching his eye. The space right under your boobs, above your abdomen looks so smooth and soft. He just wants to lick it. And don’t even get him started on the thighs that are draped over his lap right now. He wants to lick every inch of them before splitting them open. “Were you not listening?” you ask him, hands softly cradling his cheeks to draw his attention back upward.

He shakes his head, gooey, warm brownie eyes hooded and soft as he stares at you from this close. You giggle, swatting at his chest. “We got paired up to do the class project together! I’m mommy.” You lean close to his face, poking the end of his nose with your finger, “And you’re daddy. Mrs. Quill is getting everyone’s fake babies right now.” He peers around your body, scanning the classroom and realizing the teacher isn’t there. So that’s why you’re sitting in his lap.

“Oh… ok. So that means you’re going to call me daddy all week?” You nod eagerly. “And I get to-I mean have to call you mommy?” “If you want to.” You say with a smile. The smile that makes Eddie’s head spin. Makes his brain turn to mush. The smile he wants to be the reason for.

“I was thinking maybe you come over tomorrow and we can get started?” You offer, sliding off his lap. Eddie holds your hips at first, hoping you’ll stay but then let’s you go when he sees the teacher walk back in. “I know you have Hellfire tonight and I have a game. So what do ya say?” You ask with a little excited bounce, fingers twisting together like a little kid asking for a present.

“Yeah, that sounds good. Mommy.” Eddie says, smirk on his lips. You clap your hands happily before bending down to give him a hug. “This is going to be so much fun.” You say as you give Eddie a kiss on the cheek. Your lips linger close to his ear, your warm breath making him shudder. “My parents are out of town so we can play house all weekend.” You lean back and smile politely like what you said didn’t just make Eddie’s already hardening cock get painfully erect. You bounce back to your desk, only the lingering smell of your vanilla cookie scented body lotion left in your wake.

You sit at your desk, fake baby already waiting for you. “Eddie look!” You say as you make the baby’s hand waive to him. “He has your eyes!”

PART 2 HERE🍼🩷

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masterlist is currently under construction but you can find it here

🦋

[teddypickerry]

can i request douglas booth! nikki x reader where it’s all of the crue members and they’re in their rehearsal room just relaxing & the reader is sleeping on the couch and subconsciously reaches out for his hand & he grabs it and just smiles and the boys see the interaction and tease him a bit (sorry if this is too specific or makes no sense at all, totally okay if you dont wanna write it either! thank u! 🖤)

𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐗’𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 !

pairings! douglas booth; nikki sixx x fem reader

word count! 800

warnings! swearing, mentions of drugs & alcohol (no fucking shit it’s a mötley crüe fic)

a/n! hope i did your request justice;) pretty short fic, also unedited!!

the typical day in the life of a rockstar is something the average joe cannot mastermind. no matter how they try, very few are fit for the partying until six in the morning, taking some random girl to your hotel room, kicking her out by seven-thirty, and then falling asleep for a few hours. until afternoon rehearsals, which you're fueled by drugs and alcohol. then the show, then all over again.

it was safe to say sticking to the tour with the crüe was challenging, to say the least. the crüe did it like no other. so, joining your boyfriend nikki on his tour was the most exhausting time of your life. the first night was thrilling and ran on pure adrenaline. but as it got a few days in, it got draining and boring. the crüe was never boring but the idea of partying anymore or taking one more sip of alcohol made you sick. so you decided to leave the clubs after only an hour or two and revert back to your hotel room. but when that got too boring you were left alone with sleep. even with that, it still wasn't even to suffice for a good night's rest.

twenty minutes into rehearsals, it hit you hard. heather finally made you lay down on the couch in nikki's room backstage. by the time he came back, you were passed out and heather was curled up in a beanbag with a book. "she was really tired but didn't want to miss the show..." the blonde woman explained to the bassist who watched your sleeping figure with soft eyes. he swallowed before turning towards her. "cool."

she nearly laughed at his masked demeanor, trying to put on a more 'mysterious' act as if he wasn't watching you with pure life in his eyes. nikki was a tough guy and it didn't take falling for a girl to ruin that. he took off his shoes and comfortably made his way under you. he lifted your legs and sat under them, your thighs rested on top of him. the silent action kept you asleep as heather watched in awe with how gentle he was.

"man, did you see that girl-" tommy's giddy voice was cut off as he entered the room, mick appearing behind him, as heather slapped his leg. he held onto it as if he'd just been shot and glanced over at where her eyes followed. the drummer noticed his bassist's warm embrace on your sleeping figure. he nearly shit himself when he saw the never seen before sight. tommy's eyes light up with a goofy grin as he mumbled something and took a seat with heather on the bean bag. mick made his way over towards the chair beside them.

the look on nikki's face was obvious. one word of this and they'd all be dead. that somehow made it much more amusing to the two. "awe hush nikki, you're such a good mommy." tommy whimpered as he 'cradled a baby' with his arms. nikki couldn't help but roll his eyes as he crossed his arms. mick took a sip of his drink before turning towards tommy. "look drummer, nikki can hold his girlfriend all he wants. if he wants to be a little pussy bitch then by all means, let him."

tommy's mouth burst open into a fit of laughter making heather slap his arm hurt fully. mick only smiled as he toyed with his bottle cap. the abrupt sound nearly awoke you, stirring on nikki. your arms stretched slightly as your hand traced nikki's arm, he immediately uncrossed his arms as your hands came together. for a moment he forgot what was going on as a smile danced across his lips. nikki was used to your grasps during your sleep, or waking up with your arms wrapped around him. but the still new feeling was a comfort.

"why don't you hold me like that?" vince pouted from the doorway with a playful grin, catching the attention of all. nikki would have jumped up and chased him until the blonde barbie fell or was tackled to the ground. but the warmth of your body was too enticing to skip out. "okay fuck you guys. she's just laying on me, what fucking ever, man."

"oooh," tommy mouthed with the twirl of his drumsticks in his left hand, while the other arm locked around his wife. "sixx's gone soft."

"if you don't shut your goddamned mouth-"

"don't wake up sleeping beauty, bassist."

[billys-pretty-babe]

Tropicana's Where I Lost My Heart

Pairing : Billy Hargrove x Stripper!Fem!Reader

Summary : March 29, 1988 was the first time Billy could step into a strip club where there was both tits and alcohol in the same room. Los Angeles, California was a long way from Hawkins, Indiana, so why was his ex girlfriend there dancing for a room full of pervs?

Warnings : Swearing, alcohol, lap dance, smut (protected piv, cumshot), vch piercing

Word count : 3,108

A/N : Inspired by Girls, Girls, Girls by Mötley Crüe (X)

Los Angeles was not a place that Billy visited very often, but the night of his 21st when his childhood friends and Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins came to visit, Tommy suggested a strip club. So, that's what they did. Tropicana always had a line outside of it, one of the best strip clubs because it served alcohol, you could pay for private rooms, could pay for lap dances, and best of all tits were out.

He leaned against the brick wall, a lit cigarette in his mouth as about twenty people, men and women, were lined up to get inside as bouncers checked IDs and gave people stamps or X's. "How's she been," Billy asked around the butt of his cigarette. Tommy shrugged, puffing on his own cigarette, handing it to Carol. "Haven't seen her since you left, she's probably dead." Billy pushed Tommy as Tommy laughed obnoxiously, fixing his stance as he leaned against Carol.

"Just saying, you guys broke up in August of '85, that was nearly three years ago, man. She's not around no more, at least she's not in Hawkins. Her folks are still there, her mom's still friends with Susan. Oh, Neil's in jail, I forgot what for." Billy hummed, nodding and he flung his finished cigarette into the road. Soon, they were all cleared to go inside, and Billy took in the atmosphere.

The lights were bright on the stage, men and women of all ages, mainly men that were older sat near the stage. Tommy had rented a booth close to the stage and someone led them to it. "Birthday boy gets the closest seat." Billy rolled his eyes as everyone piled into the booth, Carol sitting on Tommy's lap as Billy sat down at the outside seat.

A bar girl got their drink orders, checking ID's and wishing Billy a happy birthday before taking their orders to the bartender. Throughout the night, Billy remembered why he stopped drinking with Tommy who was ogling the topless women. Carol was no different, whistling at the girls, making Billy shake his head at the two of them.

Billy finished off his beer and Carol ordered shots for the table. Billy could handle his alcohol, he knew that much from all of Tina's parties that he attended, beating his own keg record each time. He wasn't paying attention until Carol gasped. "Told you she wasn't dead, Tommy," she said, slapping her boyfriend's shoulder.

Billy looked up to the stage, watching you. Men and women whistled watching you work the shiny silver pole on the middle of the stage. Billy's childhood friends looked to the stage, seeing who had caught their best friend's eye. "She's hot," James said. Billy's eyes flickered to him before going back to you.

Tommy snickered, "That's his ex." James' jaw dropped, "No way he bagged that." Tommy laughed, "She didn't look like that in high school, not that I remember at least." You did look the same, Billy was the only guy to ever see you naked, your body was ingrained into his brain forever after the night he took your virginity.

He noticed the pretty little tattoos on your body, seeing one right under the string of the material on your hips. The bar girl came back, and Carol began asking her about you. "She does lap dances for five dollars, private rooms are twenty and she won't take her top off on stage but give her ten bucks and she will." Carol nodded, pulling money out of her clutch that Tommy was holding onto.

"Birthday boy gets a lap dance." He looked at her as Tommy began cheering, Billy's friends egging him on and cheering too. "I'll get her over here when she's done." Carol nodded, thanking her and she left the table. "Fuck you," Billy said through his teeth to his friends and they all laughed at him. "Lighten up, she probably doesn't remember you anyways. Like I said, nearly three years, and who knows, she probably has a boyfriend somewhere around here."

Billy's jaw clenched at Tommy's words; he wanted you to be happy but with him. The two of you ended on bad terms, he wanted you to follow him to California, you told him no and he left in the middle of the night because he was angry. You never got to say goodbye to him.

You finished your dance, security gathering the cash for you and handing it to you as you thanked the large man, going backstage. You went to your dressing room, putting the money into neat stacks and into bags, tossing them into your locker. Someone knocked on the door and you looked over, smiling at Claire, the bar girl. "Hey, we have a lap dance." You nodded, touching up your makeup.

"What's he look like?" She smiled dreamily, "Tall, blonde with curls, pretty ass blue eyes. He has some tattoos on his hands. He's with a group of friends, I'll bring them all to your section because they're in a booth." You nodded, thanking her and finished touching up your makeup.

You put on more deodorant and a little perfume behind your ears and neck, knowing the guy would be close enough to smell it. You bent over, fixing the laces on your heels and stood up, looking in the mirror, bending over and fixing your boobs in your top. The entire outfit was skimpy but left enough for a man's imagination to go wild, wanting to pay for the clothes to be taken off.

You walked to your section, immediately recognizing Tommy Hagan's freckly face as Carol had her arm around his waist. Blonde hair. You knew it wasn't Steve Harrington, he was a brunette. There were only two blondes that Tommy hung out with, Billy Hargrove and Jason Carver. For once in your life, you were hoping it was the latter but with the look on Tommy's face, it wasn't.

In the chair, your designated lap dance chair, was Billy Hargrove. Your heart raced. He looked different; he was still hot, hotter than he was when he was your boyfriend. He had more tattoos that peeked out of the muscle shirt he wore, his hands had tattoos as well, but he never touched his pretty face. His brow still had a slit in it and his blue eyes were just as striking as you remember them to be, the same ones were in your dreams every night.

You had half a mind to give another dancer him but at the same time, you didn't want to see your co-workers grinding on your ex-boyfriend. "Who's paying," you asked. Carol put the money out and you took it, putting it in the tip jar that you had. You sat in his lap; his thighs were bigger than you remembered. You'd know because you had ridden him practically every night after he took your virginity.

"This okay," you asked him, and he nodded, his hands on the sides of his thighs. You grabbed them, placing them on your waist. A song started, some type of R&B, it was definitely music to fuck to. Tommy's eyes were trained on the stage, practically slobbering like a dog as Carol teased him. Your hands laid on Billy's shoulders as you began the lap dance. Billy's eyes were trained on you, his lips were slightly apart.

He felt himself getting harder with each second you were grinding on him. His hands gripped your waist tightly, wishing it was a different situation, wishing he was holding you close and kissing you. Sooner than he liked, it was over. You leaned to his ear, "Happy birthday, B," you said, just loud enough for him to hear it over the loud music. His heart stopped.

Did someone tell you it was his birthday? There was no way you remembered that. You glanced at his friends, seeing all of them occupied. "Come with me," you said, getting up and he stood up behind you as you grabbed the money from your tip jar and going to your dressing room. He followed you, sitting in an office chair in the corner of the room as you shut the door.

You added the money from your dances into the bags in your locker. You sat in your chair and looked at him, really getting a good look at him in the well-lit room. "Didn't expect you to be a stripper." You shrugged, "College didn't work out for me. I needed to get away." He hummed, "So you chose California?" You nodded. He pursed his lips, "Bullshit, you're lying. You're doing that thing with your nose. What's the real reason you came to California?"

Him.

You shrugged, "I don't know, needed a change of scenery." He hummed again, "And lie number two within in the span of five seconds." You rolled your eyes, fixing the lipstick at the corner of your lips. "You followed me, didn't you?" You shrugged, "Maybe, maybe not." He nodded, "How long have you been here?" You looked at him in the mirror, "Since March '86." Two years and he had never run into you.

"You're lying to me about college. You left during Spring semester; you didn't even give it an entire school year." You sighed, "Cause I fucked up. I should've come with you instead of letting you come here alone." He nodded, practically burning a hole into your skin.

"I still think about what could have happened if we were still together. Probably married with a kid or two with one on the way." You looked at him, turning in your chair. "You wanted kids with me?" He nodded, "And marriage. You were the only girl I had ever thought about being married to. I hated marriage until you came into my life."

The way he looked at you looked like he wanted, like he still loved you. You had never forgotten about the way he loved you, he loved you like every single day was his last day with you. You looked at your dressing room door, getting up and locking it and you moved to where he was, standing between his knees.

Your hand went to his cheek and his hands darted to your waist, pulling you close. He leaned in, stopping when his forehead touched yours. "Did you kiss anyone tonight?" You shook your head, "No, I don't kiss customers." He nodded, kissing you. The kiss was different than the others the two of you had shared. You couldn't describe it, but it felt familiar.

Billy kissed like he was hungry for you, like he needed this. His hands wandered under your butt, pulling you so you were in his lap. His hands messed with the strings on the bottom of your two-piece outfit. He pulled away from you, panting a little. The most action he had recently was with his left hand and whatever shitty porn he was able to get his hands on.

"Are you clean?" You nodded, "Haven't fucked anyone since you." His heart did a little skip, he believed you. "Are you clean," you asked back. He laughed and nodded; he had a few hook ups after you but those ended in 1987. "You got so hot," you said with no shame. He laughed, "Me? Fucking look at you." He kissed your jaw, pressing hard kisses to your neck, kissing a few of your small tattoos as he bit the top of your left boob.

"B, I know we love foreplay, but I need you in me, right now." He laughed, kissing you as he reached between the two of you, unbuckling his belt. Your hands went between the two of you, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, pulling them down to his knees as he pulled his dick out through the hole in his boxers.

"Was that what the hole was for," he asked himself in his head. He reached into his wallet, thanking himself that he put it in his front pocket rather than his back pocket. He grabbed the gold foil, tossing his wallet onto the floor.

"Open your mouth," he said, to which you did. He put the corner of the pack in your mouth, and you bite down, and he ripped the corner off, taking the condom out. He rolled it on himself. He went to undo the strings on your bottoms. "Is this, okay?" You nodded, "More than okay, please, just need you." He nodded, quickly pulling the strings as your lower half was revealed to him and when he hiked your legs up, he saw something shiny.

He put his right arm behind your back, gently leaning you back. He hooked his thumb at the top of your labia and gently pulled up, revealing the clit piercing. He whistled when he saw it, "It's pretty." You smiled, your skin heating up. "Does it add more stimulation?" You nodded and he hummed, "We'll be testing that out at my place, but for now," he said, grabbing two inches below his tip as he brought your chest to his, running his tip through your slick.

He tapped it against your clit, and you moaned, thankful for the loud music playing throughout the club. "Ready," he asked you. You nodded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, holding your hands behind his back, hoping he wouldn't smash your fingers against the wall.

He pulled you a little closer so you could feel the curls on his base on your clit. You felt the condom slide against your entrance before his thumb guiding his tip inside of you. He moved his thumb to the edge of your hole, gently pulling it to allow a little room for his cock and you moaned, back already arching at the feeling.

Both of his hands went to your waist and once your butt was on his thighs, he moaned, head falling back to the wall. He swallowed, his Adam's Apple moving, and you couldn't help but you place your lips right under his jaw and sucked a hickey onto his skin.

Albeit he tasted like alcohol from his cologne, but you ignored it because right under it, you could taste him. He controlled your hips as he looked at you, peppering your skin with kisses and little bites. He spread his legs a little, thrusting up into you, making you cry out for him, your nails digging into his back through the material of his shirt.

Your body was overtaken by pleasure, not being able to ride him like you used to. Your head fell to his shoulder at a particularly hard thrust and he laughed. You thought about how pathetic you looked. Your ex-boyfriend mentioned marriage and here you were on his dick, how embarrassing. Billy moaned in your ear as you clenched, getting him back for laughing at you.

"God, you feel so good," he moaned out. "Fucking missed this, don't ever make me miss out on you ever again, please." He sounded like he was begging for you. You put one of your hands in his hair, tugging it gently and he let out another moan. Your moans were his favorite, they were authentic, they were him.

You began moving your hips with his thrusts, a deadly combination for the both of you. The room was filled with skin slapping, the wet squelches coming from your body every single time he would thrust back into you, along with the moans from the two of you.

He knew you were close; he could feel the way you were clenching around him. "I got you baby, let go for me. I'm right here, it's okay." Billy was a talker which was good and bad, it was bad when he talked you through your orgasms because his voice was hot, and it made you want to stay on his cock and just soak him completely.

Your thighs started to shake a little. "That's it," he said in your ear, rubbing the small of your back. You succumbed to the pleasure, letting out a loud moan of his name as he talked you through it, his voice was muffled as your body tingled, your eyes rolling back a little.

"Good girl, there we go," he said, trying to stave off his own orgasm, wanting to watch you. God, he loved you so much, he never stopped, and in this raw moment of pleasure, seeing you so vulnerable to him, he loved you even more than before. He kissed you after you caught your breath.

He couldn't help it as his thrusts were getting sloppy and messy, gripping your skin as his breath was coming out heavy. He was so close, and he pulled out, taking the condom off, giving his cock a few quick tugs as his cum landed on your stomach, painting it in uneven stripes with little drips and some globs.

He put his head on your shoulder, his body shaking a little as he was coming down. You gently scratched his back, and he kissed your cheek. "Do you have a towel or something, I kind of made a mess." You laughed and nodded, getting up on shaky legs and you grabbed a clean towel because you tended to shower at the club after your shifts.

You went to clean it yourself before he leaned up, snatching the towel from you. He beckoned you over and you sat back down in his lap, and he cleaned off your stomach, kissing your shoulder as he did so. He cleaned himself up and threw the condom away in your little trash can. "Ready to go to my place?" You nodded quickly. He helped you put your bottoms back on as you slipped on a pair of shorts and a baggy t-shirt over your top. You took your heels off, putting a pair of socks on and grabbing your sneakers, sliding your feet into them.

Billy tied your shoes for you, and you smiled. You got all of your stuff together, including your bags of money and he finished redressing himself and getting himself together. He grabbed his wallet off of the floor and you led him out of the back of the club as he followed you to your car. "Do you still have Blue?" He nodded, "My house, I didn't drive just in case I got drunk." You nodded and got into the car.

From that night forward, everything changed for the better for both you and Billy. Your guys' story didn't end, there was just a pause in it, but the two of you always knew you'd rejoice.