•••••••••••••••••••••••Requests Open!••••••••••••••••••••••••
Will update upon receiving requests. Check chapter cleverly titled "⭐️Requests Open!⭐️" for more details (it's the 10th chapter!)
You can never have too many classic rock one shots, can y...
Muse: American Actress, Singer, Comedian, Writer and Television Producer Marla Gibbs Musician: English Singer/ Songwriter, Actor and Producer, Mick Jagger Time: Late Sixties to Early Seventies
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Tabitha wasn't planning on going easy on him. For the first time in a long time, Mick's status wouldn't get him any grace. Her father's rules were simple: "Stick by Tabby's side and do whatever she asks of you for the next 24 hours. If she's pleased, I'll act like nothing ever happened".
The poor chap had been trying to get back on his daughter's good side after bringing her home from college, against her will, to help him with his work. So, when a rowdy Mick Jagger burst into his bar, wreaking havoc and stoned out of his mind, it was almost like the opportunity fell right into his lap.
It was about eight in the afternoon, the day after 'the indecent', and the sun was just beginning to set. Tabitha was riding passenger in Mick's unnecessarily loud car; she wasn't sure where they were going, and little did she know, neither was he. As Chicago raced by her window in a blur, she busied herself with checking her hair and makeup in her compact mirror. She was the kind of gal that always wanted to look perfect, even if there was no one around to see her.
And, undeterred by the stuffy atmosphere, it did feel like there was no one with her, even though Mick was sitting right by her side. He hadn't said a word to her the whole ride — in fact, he hadn't spoken a word to her at all. He clearly wasn't too thrilled about his current situation, likely due to the girlfriend he'd mentioned to Tabitha'a father, but he didn't really have a choice in the end. The last thing he needed was another negative headline.
With a final check of her eyeliner, her handy little mirror presented her quite the cinematographic sight; her ebony bedroom eyes backed by the quivering scenery of the buzzing road behind them. Her hand was trembling with the movement of tires on asphalt, pink beginning to bleed over the baby blue sky that lay behind the rear window glass. Tabitha chewed her gum as her hands deftly shaped the pillow-soft afro that she'd tediously styled that morning. With a few sure pats of finality, she snapped the compact closed and turned her attention to the languid driver.
"Tabitha. But you can call be Tabs." She said, sticking a hand out for him to take. He looked over to her, snapping his eyes from her visage and back to the road a few quick times before grabbing her hand by the fingers for an unenthused shake. "Mick." He replied flatly, his tone showing little interest.
"So, you're basically my boy-toy until eight tomorrow night, huh?" The girl teased, trying to lighten the man's lead-heavy mood.
"Seems so. I must say, this is quite the brilliant idea. How'd your pretty little head manage to think this up?" Mick derided, finding himself unable to mask his annoyance. He felt that he was being blatantly used for a his money and reputation; just an easy ticket to buy an opportunistic young lady's night of delights — and he wasn't wrong.
