The Rolling Stones' imagines

(Mick J) Fool in love

A/N: I have no idea what tf this is but it happened lol. AU (of course) + ending is left to whatever you decide happens (:

Enjoy!

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There he was.

Standing under the dim and smoky lighting belonging to the shitty run down pub he went to every Tuesday night. Why? I've but the slightest idea but he didn't care and neither did I. A talent as his was a rare sight and I was lucky to even be breathing the same air as him let alone be in the same room.

Of course, he wasn't alone as the light strumming and tuning of a guitar from the guitarist was heard but he was the one that mattered. Every Tuesday night he'd come in wearing daring outfits and a bold attitude that made you want to crawl on your knees for him. His hair was long unlike the basic men I've had the unpleasure of encountering and he had smooth, pretty and plump lips that'd raise in one corner as they puckered in pure amusement.

The set was yet to start so he sat on stage with his legs dangling off as a group of girls gathered at his feet. My skin crawled watching them run their hands up and down his trousers that fit so unbelievably tight. They lusted over him (perhaps I did as well) but it was more than that; he was more than that.

He was an enigma. Shy and reserved when the lights were dim but so alive and energetic on stage flapping his arms around wildly. Of course, there were moments where he'd get lost in a song and his eyes would cloud as a sadness loomed over his features. For a moment I'd wonder if he too was lonely and crawled late at night into bed where the sheets were far too cold and the mattress too stiff and restless.

I've heard from a passerby that his name was Mick. He'd never introduce himself but merely his band. Sometimes I'd stroll around my flat repeating the name because it excited me and I wouldn't feel so agitated having to wait for the next Tuesday to roll around.

Mick and the small local band— The Rolling Stones— has started playing exactly a year ago and I've yet to miss a show. It started by accident and fate, really. As shitty as this pub was, it was my safe haven and after having an incredibly long day I strolled around on a Monday night (something I never did) and ordered a Brandy whilst trying not to cry of frustration. I've just had enough of my boss and I hated having to scrounge around for money each month to pay my rent. My shit of a boyfriend was no help and I was almost certain he was fucking our next door neighbor. I had dropped out of school and nothing made sense. My life seemed to be going downhill really fast. I was almost ready to throw a towel in but on that Monday night where I thought nothing could ever go right, I heard him. Soft and sweet as he passed by the bar and followed after the owner.

"One night! One night and I'll even pay you half of our earnings." He pleaded.

The short man scoffed. "How do I know you're not going to cheat me? I've got kids coming in and out of here trying to scam me. How do I know people will actually come to see you play?"

"Because we're different." He argued and I felt as if my breath was stolen when he turned and I caught a glimpse of his face. Big blue eyes and full, pouty lips.

He frowned. "We're not kids either."

The man sighed. "Look, kid. If I have you and your Rolling pebbles—"

"Rolling Stones."

He gritted his teeth. "Rolling Stones play here tomorrow night can you promise a full house?"

The singer only grinned.

Since then girls piled into the small place every Tuesday in hopes of catching a glimpse of the long-haired boys who played the blues and moved provocatively on stage. The guitarist, oozing charm and confidence. His gorgeous mop of golden hair swayed with him and by every other song he had picked up a different instrument.