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Mick Jagger

(Smut, swearing)

I hated Mick Jagger. I hated him more than anyone in the world. I was The Rolling Stones assistant. I know thousands of girls would kill for my job, and I don't blame them. It's an excellent job, and most of the time it's okay. Keith, Brian, Bill and Charlie are some of the kindest people I've ever met. But Mick wasn't. He was arrogant and self-centered and narcissistic. I felt like he didn't take anything I said seriously. For the first few weeks he flirted with me non-stop, then when he realised a wasn't a screaming fangirl, gave up. He was so annoying after that. He would come in to the studio everyday with a different girl hanging off his arm, flaunting her in front of me as if to make me jealous. If anything, I felt bad for the idiotic girl who actually thought Mick liked her. He wasn't all bad. Sometimes when he was drunk or tired, he would actually be nice to me. But most of the time he was still a dick.

I was sitting in the studio, trying to get some work done. I was still in uni so I had schoolwork to do on top of the Stones paperwork. The boys had left about ten minutes ago but I decided to stay for another hour or so. I was trying to work as quick as I could when the door suddenly opened. I looked up to see Mick standing awkwardly in the doorway. "What're you still doing here?" he asked, sauntering in and pulling a chair over to the table, sitting to face me. "Schoolwork and stuff." I shrugged, trying to stay concentrated. I could sense him watching me and I awkwardly cleared my throat. "Why are you here?" I asked, wondering why he wasn't being his usual unpleasant self. I have to say, I prefer Mick being a prick than being weird like this. "Forgot my jacket." he said, staring intently at me. We sat in silence for a few minutes, before he got up at sat next to me. "You must be really smart." he commented, looking at the pile of work I was getting through. I raised my eyebrows at him before finally asking "Mick, why are you being nice?" He glared at me before shrugging. "What do mean, I'm always nice." he rolled his eyes. "Nope. No your not, you're a twat." I said with mock politeness. "You're so fucking annoying." he groaned, making his way back to his seat and lighting a cigarette. "Want one?" he asked, holding out the packet. I did want one, but I didn't want one of Micks. "No I'm fine." I said, trying my best to finish my work and ignore him. I felt his uncomfortable gaze on me yet again and I looked up at him. "Are you gonna watch me all night or..?" I asked sarcastically. "You're a real bitch, you know that?" he laughed, taking a drag from his cigarette. "No wonder you don't have a boyfriend." I glared at him. "Who says I don't?" I retorted. He raised his eyebrows at me.

"So, you do?" he asked after a moment of silence. "I do what?" I asked, finally sitting up to look him in the eyes. "Have a boyfriend. Do you?" he asked. "Well, no." I shrugged. "It's not as if I can't get one, I just don't want a relationship right now." He seemed to accept that as an answer and I returned to my work. He got up and started walking around the room. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, seeing him run his fingers along the instruments in the corner of the room. He was wearing a blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, complimenting his slightly toned arms. He was wearing high-waisted black suit pants, a surprisingly stylish outfit for him. Usually his outfits made me want to stick my head through a wall, but this one seemed some-what average. I couldn't help but look down at his crotch, the tight material of his pants making a slight bulge. I shook my head, wondering why I was thinking about that. He walked around the room a few more times before standing behind me. He leaned down and positioned his plump lips next to my ear.

"What about sex?" he whispered quietly and I turned to look at him. "What?" I asked, genuinely confused. "You said you don't want a relationship right now. Well, what about sex?" he said calmy, slightly smiling at my reddening face. "What about sex?" I muttered, looking down at my work to avoid his stare. "Do you want sex?" he said, twisting my jaw to make me look him in the eyes. "I-i don't know." I said, dumbfounded. Usually I would've slapped Mick away or told him to piss off, but something about the look on his face or his grip on my jaw was making me practically struck for words. "Of course you do." he murmured, running his fingers through my hair. "You want me to fuck you against the wall so hard you won't be able to walk." he smirked, making my breath hitch. "No I don't, I hate you." I muttered, making him smile at me. "Trust me, the feeling's mutual." he grinned, leaning in to kiss me.