Daniel Webber!vince Neil - Blog Posts

Not My Type (Vince Neil x OC)

Pairing: Vince Neil x OC

Warnings: Sexual Innuendo 

Word Count: 711

With the boy's gig finally over, Valarie walked down the stairs to the bar, desperate for a drink. She pushed through the crowd and immediately caught the eyes of the bartender, who flocked over to the pretty brunette and asked for her order; a simple rum and coke.

While waiting, Valarie glanced around and scoffed at the Mötley Crüe groupies screaming for the boys to come back, some even trying to fight the bodyguards to get backstage.

Valarie was getting sick of coming to these things; the groupies, the drunks, the headaches, but the boys begged her every time; claiming she was some type of good luck charm.

The bartender came back and slid the drink towards her. Pulling out her wallet, the bartender stopped her, “on the Crüe tab, like usual.” Valarie shot him a smile and grabbed her drink, taking a long sip.

Valarie took this pause as her moment of peace before the chaos backstage. However, it seemed the chaos had already come to her.

“You need me now, I'll teach you how, come on, let's go all the way…” A voice sang in her ear as an arm snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against a warm body.

Valarie scoffed and sculled her drink, before slamming it down and spinning in the sweaty arms and coming face-to-face with Vince Neil.

“I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again…” Valarie started before Vince cut her off.

“Baby, I know you’re nervous you won’t be able to handle me. And, yeah, it might be a rough ride, but I’ll take it easy on you the first time.” Vince smirked, his hand skimming the bare skin of her pale thigh.

Grabbing hold of Vince’s sweaty hand, Valarie threw it off her body with a smirk. “You’re not really my type.”

Vince froze to his spot, left with wide eyes and unable to form words as Valarie walked away. Focusing on the swing of her hips as she walked back up the stairs, Vince snapped out of his shocked state and jogged after her.

“Not really your type?” He scoffed. “Baby, I’m everyone’s type.”

“Evidently not, hotshot.” Valarie called over her shoulder.

Using the railing to propel him forward, Vince rushed around Valarie and stood firmly in front of her on the stairs, halting her with a sigh.

“Come on, Val. There’s this tension between us that you can’t deny.” Vince argued, his sexy smirk on his face.

Valarie forced her heart to slow down at the sight of that smirk and placed a smug grin on her face. “I’ve denied it since I met you. Why change now?”

Valarie stepped up and went to move around Vince, but he stepped into her, leaving their bodies flush against each other. Vince stared down at Valarie, biting his lip in thought, and Valarie stared up at Vince with wide eyes at the close contact.

“Why don’t we just give this thing a try? I mean there’s something and you know I’ll try and give it up for you; the strippers, the groupies, all that stuff.” Vince whispered, his blue eyes piercing her hazel ones.

“You’d try? That sounds convincing.” Valarie mumbled sarcastically.

Vince groaned. “You know what I mean.”

Shaking her head, Valarie placed her hands on his chest, making Vince shudder, and pushed him against the railing. Vince grumbled in pain as Valarie moved past him, but he watched her walk away.

But Valarie paused. “And what about Tommy? You really want him to kick your ass?” Valarie spoke without looking at him, so he couldn’t see her furrowed forehead as she thought about the possibilities.

Vince scoffed. “Your scrawny brother doesn’t scare me.”

The sentence hung in the air as the two of them stood silent, ignoring the loud music and partying going on upstairs and downstairs.

“As I said Vince,” Valarie looked back at Vince with a smile. “You’re just not my type.” Vince deflated, but with the wink Valarie sent him, a smile lit up his face once again.

Letting out a laugh, Vince sent her that charming smirk that made Valarie weak. “You understand that this is just gonna make me want you more, right?” Vince’s stared at her with determination.

“I’m counting on it.”