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that fucking shirt   x

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You Lost? (Mick Mars x OC) Part 2/?

Part One

Pairing: Mick Mars x OC

Warnings: Mature language

Word Count: 832

Although Denny’s was loud, it was nothing compared to the Mötley Crüe house party. So, to Mick and Natalie, the sound around them was white noise. Finishing off their food, the couple sat in silence as they sipped at their drinks. But it didn’t stop them from analysing each other from across the booth.

The pair stood out, their differing appearances catching the eye of the other customers. Mick, dressed in all black, gave off the bad boy vibes. But Natalie looked like the image of innocence.

Mick cleared his throat and sat down his drink, his eyes meeting his aviators that sat on Natalie’s face. “So, you track me down, turn me on, invite me to get a burger, and give me blue balls. What’s your whole plan here, Natalie?”

After a beat of silence, Natalie let out a loud laugh, making a small smile appear on Mick’s face. “You forgot I stole your glasses as well.” She stated.

Mick just rolled his eyes. He thought they looked better on her anyway.

Natalie sat the sunglasses on top of her head, so they met eyes properly. “I wanted to get to know you, see if you’d meet the expectations I’d built up in my head.” She admitted.

Mick leaned across the table, his stare making Natalie blush. “And? Did I?” He mumbled, his voice low.

Natalie moved closer to the older guitarist, so close she could feel his breath on her face. “You surpassed them.” She whispered, welcoming the scent of vodka and nicotine.

The sexual tension in the air was getting Mick hard again. Licking her lips, Natalie focused on Mick Mars’ lips. She just had to lean forward a little more, and they’d be kissing. Mick was reading her mind, his eyes moving between her lust filled, drooping eyes and her plump pink lips.  

Shifting forward, Mick went to make the first move. But, the sound of a clearing throat snapped them out of their haze and had them sitting straight up, and away from one another.

The older waitress smiled as she sat down their next round of drinks; a lemonade for Natalie and a vodka for Mick. The pair were feeling awkward and disappointed as they mumbled a small thank you. With the waitress gone, they didn't know what to say.

“So, what now?” Mick asked, snapping Natalie out of her disappointment.

“Well, I don’t fuck on the first date.” She said, smirking at Mick as he choked on his drink.

Mick’s eyes were roaming her again, smirking at his thoughts. “You don’t look like the kind of girl who’s ever fucked.”

Now it was Natalie’s turn to choke, a blush coating her cheeks. “You got me there.”

If Mick didn’t think he could get any harder before, he was wrong.

Gathering enough confidence, Natalie leaned close again. “But, I wanna get to know you more Mr. Mars.” She revealed, making Mick stare at her. She couldn’t read his expression, but that was something that intrigued her about him. “So, let’s find out if I fuck on the second date.”

Mick’s jaw dropped, for many reasons. “The second date?” He repeated, disbelief in his voice.

“Well, this was our first.” Natalie stood up, brushing the crumbs off her skirt. “So, tomorrow afternoon you’ll pick me up from school, and we’ll go from there.” She stated, sending Mick a cheeky smile before she walked away.

Mick was speechless.

“School?” He mumbled, eyebrows furrowed in thought. Mick’s eyes quickly widened, and he spun around to face the blonde who was walking out the door. “How old are you?” He called out, his steady voice hiding his nerves.

Pausing by the door, Natalie let out a giggle. Turning over her shoulder, she shot Mick a wink. “Eighteen.”

Mick let out a deep breath and slunk in his seat, nodding his head in content as he heard the door shut. Thank fucking Christ. Resting his head back against the booth, Mick let out a chuckle as he closed his eyes. “Eighteen and untouched… is this a fucking dream?”

“Not today, big boy.” Natalie whispered in his ear, making him jump in surprise. Blue and brown eyes stared at each other, wondering what the other was thinking. “I realised I forgot to give you the address.” She smiled, placing a piece of paper down on the table.

Mick nodded, trying to be nonchalant, even though his heart was fucking pounding. “Yeah, uh, that’d be helpful.”

Biting her lip, a blush lit up Natalie’s pale cheeks before she leaned down and placed a soft his to his cheek. “See you tomorrow.” She whispered, before turning around and leaving for good.

Mick just sat still for a moment, trying to take in everything that’s happened the last couple of hours. Picking up the piece of paper on the desk and reading over the address, Mick picked up his drink and chugged it back. “Why isn’t it fucking surprising that she’s a private school girl?” 

The Pale Moonlight

Ivar the Boneless x ofc

Word Count: 875

Warnings: None

Laughter echoed in the distance as the men celebrated their latest battle, drinking mead and singing songs. The gleaming fire caused a dim glow to settle over the forest, illuminating the dancing shadows.

Sitting on an old tree stump, Ivar stared out into the forest, eyes hazy and shoulders hunched over in thought. Yet, his ears perked up, hearing the snapping of twigs and crunching of leaves. Glancing over his shoulder, he sat up straight as the cause of his headache appeared.

“What is wrong, young prince? Didn’t kill enough Christians for your liking?” Selene teased, a smile gracing her face as she leant against one of the many trees surrounding them.

Ivar chuckled, his head bowed low. “For a girl who criticises my love for bloodshed, you seem to enjoy making jokes about it.” His electric eyes lifted, a smirk decorating his face.

Selene scoffed, a hand waving away his response as she plopped down beside him. “I do not condone it, but if it makes you happy and stops you from injuring unsuspecting locals, who am I to complain?” She peered up at him, a twinkle in her eyes.

Ivar gave no reply, his smirk shifting into a frown. He just stared at her, unsure and unprepared.

Selene’s smile fell. “What is wrong?”

The Boneless grit his teeth, a hiss escaping. Rolling his head on his shoulders, he tried to shake off the fire in his veins as he looked away from her, unable to gaze into her shining eyes no longer.

Panic flared in Selene as she moved onto her knees, observing Ivar’s shaking form, tentatively touching his legs, “Have you injured yourself? Fallen off your horse? What is it?” She rambled, unaware that his piercing stare had returned to her.

“I want to choke the life from you.” He whispered. Selene stopped her movements, her mouth becoming dry as she slowly met his eyes, unconsciously leaning away from her friend. “I want you to understand how it feels to be afraid…” Ivar licked his lips, “Because this is how I feel whenever you are around.”

It was as if the only sounds to be heard in the forest were the quiet squawking of ravens, the distant celebrations, and the racing of teenage hearts.

“Ivar…” Selene trailed off, her gleaming eyes blown wide in the moonlight. “What do you mean?”

Ivar swallowed, the noise echoing within the forest. “You have…” his electric blue eyes avoided her, staring into the starry night sky. “Consumed my every thought. When you are away from me, I am concerned about your safety, your feelings. Has somebody harmed you? Made you cry?” His eyebrows furrowed and fists clenched by his sides. Selene could not speak. Her glistening eyes tracked Ivar’s frantic movements. “And when you are near me, it is worse! I cannot speak, for I fear that if I do, I will say the wrong thing, and you will leave!” He yelled, causing Selene to flinch. “See! I have done it already!” Ivar cried, lifting himself off the stump and beginning to crawl away.

Selene stumbled to her feet, tripping over loose leaves and sticks. “Ivar! Please!” She shouted. “You have not let me speak!” Ivar continued to ignore her, slithering into the shadows. “What if I told you I wanted to choke you too?” She called.

Ivar froze, wide eyes turning to face Selene with raised brows.

Selene’s face crinkled, her lips pursed. “Okay, that is not what I meant to say at all...” She sighed. Shrugging, she stepped closer to Ivar, slowly as if trying not to spook him. “I am afraid for you too. When you are on the battlefield, I cannot sit still! What if you have fallen off your chariot? Or even been killed? I just have to sit here and wait like some silly twit, waiting for you to return!” Selene had stopped looking at Ivar and was pacing. Now that her thoughts were in the open, she could not stop them. “And even when you aren’t on the battlefield, you concern me! What if it is too cold and your bones hurt? Or you are in pain and need silly jokes to lighten the mood?” Selene paused, staring at grey moon, seeking guidance. “But, how do I tell you I love you without losing you?”

Selene screamed; her body knocked to the dewy forest floor. Ivar hovered above her, breathing heavy and blue eyes glimmering. Odin had frozen time as the young pair gazed at each other, peering into the soul of the other. Ivar inched downwards, slow and uncertain. 

Rolling her eyes, Selene gripped the back of Ivar’s head and smashed their lips together. Their lips moved like two people dancing together for the first time, unpractised yet passionate. His arms ran up and down her sides as she played with his hair. It was not perfect, but it was right.

Pulling away with a huff, Ivar whispered, “I do not really wish to choke you.”

Selene nodded absentmindedly, staring at Ivar’s lips. “Good. Let’s just start with holding hands. Your odd kinks can come in later, hmm?” She grinned. Ivar shook his head with a chuckle, leaning back down to reclaim her lips in the pale moonlight.  

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.”

Not Today, My Prince

Ivar the Boneless x ofc

Word Count: 2222

Warnings: Mature language, sexual content

The raid was a complete success, and the festivities continued in Kattegat, with throngs of locals joining the Viking’s celebrations, trying to catch a glimpse of the victorious men. The music was booming, and the drinks flowed like liquid gold as Lottie sat with the Ragnarsson brothers, perched between Sigurd and Ubbe, while Ivar and Hvitserk sat across from them.

Lottie squealed, the atmosphere infecting her being. “What a raid, boys! The Ragnarsson name is truly becoming something of legend.” She praised, raising her mead in a toast.

The boys let out their cheers, raising their cups in agreement. As the men clinked their cups, Sigurd threw an arm around Lottie, alcohol and adrenaline pumping through his veins. “It was incredible out there! We could not be stopped!” He cried, his arm tightening around Lottie’s shoulders.

Lifting his drink to his mouth, Ivar froze as his icy eyes flickered to the action, taking a swig from his cup with a clenched jaw. “Yes, it was fucking incredible.” Ubbe and Hvitserk grinned at each other, sipping their drinks slowly.

Clearing his throat, Ubbe leant in close, encouraging the others to huddle in. “We would’ve been better if somebody could throw an axe,” Ubbe whispered with a smirk, peeking up at his brothers.

The group sniggered amongst themselves until Hvitserk paused. A frown on his face, he pushed Ubbe hard enough to knock him off his chair. “Oh, fuck off! My hand slipped!” Everyone laughed; even Ivar let out a chuckle as Ubbe dusted himself off the floor, shrugging with a smile.

Lottie’s laugh was contagious, a melody that echoed within your head, and Ivar couldn’t look away from her. Her eyes danced with flames and her smile glowed brighter than it. She was a sight to behold.

Noticing Ivar’s stare, Sigurd rolled his eyes. “You still chasing after my girl, Ivar?” he drawled, his speech slurred as he dropped his empty cup to the floor. Ivar snapped out of his daydream and glared at his smug brother.

Noticing the tension grow, Lottie shook Sigurd’s arm off her shoulders. “I’m not your girl anymore, Sigurd,” she reminded him, but he hummed.

The atmosphere became stiff, and the people around the group quietened, their attention focused on Ivar and Sigurd, who locked gazes, neither one prepared to back down. Abruptly, Sigurd chuckled to himself. “You’ve probably imagined fucking her before if what I’ve heard from your room has anything to do with it,” he sneered, laughter sounding from the onlookers. However, his brothers didn’t snigger, and neither did Lottie. They all knew that this would end poorly.

Shaking her head, Lottie downed her drink. “Sigurd, that’s enough,” Lottie warned, glancing at a trembling Ivar, his hands clenched on the table, his veins rising to the surface.

Sigurd ignored her, leaning across the table into Ivar’s face, his breath reeking of mead and meat. “Imagine her lying bare on the bed before you, dripping wet because she needs you so badly.”

Hvitserk placed a hand on Ivar’s shoulder, whispering pleas for him to remain calm in his ear. Yet, Ivar shook off the hand with a snarl. “You better stop, brother,” Ivar growled, his face flushed.

“Her moans echoing all around you as her tight, little pussy wraps around your throbbing cock… it’s pure heaven, I’ll tell you that.” The once giggling crowd had gone silent as Lottie stared at Sigurd in disbelief, shocked he would speak of her in such a way, especially since she was beside him. “But guess what, Ivar? You will never experience this for yourself, as someone like her would never go for a boneless cripple like you.” Sigurd scoffed, waving his arm in his youngest brother’s direction. “You can’t even get it to work anyway.”

Ivar launched himself out of his seat, only being pulled back by Hvitserk and Ubbe before he could wrap his hands around his older brother’s neck and squeeze the life from him. “Don’t you dare speak about her like that, you piece of fucking shit!”

Sigurd just laughed and stumbled away, collecting his empty cup off the floor and ignoring a screaming Ivar and a frustrated Lottie.

†

The obnoxious celebrations and sloshed partygoers were doing nothing for Lottie’s thumping headache. Sigurd was out of line with how he spoke to Ivar and talked about her. As much as she wanted to leave this place and forget this horrid night, she needed to make sure Ivar was okay.

Putting her ear to the closed door of Ivar’s room, and not hearing the tell-tale noises of swearing and smashing, Lottie knew it was safe to enter. Tip-toeing into the room, Lottie raised a brow as she found a shirtless Ivar perched on the end of his bed, head in his hands, tense and trembling.

Hearing her tentative footsteps, wide electric blue eyes met her concerned ones, his body slumping slightly. “Lottie, what are you doing in here?”

Lottie shrugged, a gentle smile decorating her face. “Thought that I would come and find you… talk to you about what happened out there.” She mumbled, twiddling her fingers as she watched the cripple stiffen again.

Ivar shook his head, a scowl on his lips. “It is not you who needs to worry about it. Sigurd was a prick; he should not have said that about you. Ever.” He spat, making Lottie giggle.

“No arguments from me.” She huffed, plopping down on the bed beside him, a creak echoing in the room.

The two stared ahead of them, saying nothing, until Ivar sighed, pushing his braids out of his face. He bit his lip, ripping the sensitive skin as his fingers drummed on the bed. “You know it’s true, right?” He whispered, staring at the flicking fire in the corner of his room as if the flames would engulf him at any moment.

The hairs on her neck stood tall as she raised an eyebrow, turning to look at the worried Prince. “What’s true?” Lottie questioned, her breath unsteady.

Ivar’s leg was twitching as he bounced it up and down, his eyes locked on the blaze, afraid to look at the woman beside him. “That I admire you…” He groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “Well, ‘admire’ is a weak term. I’m in love with you!” He rambled so fast Lottie could barely understand the maddening man.

“Slow down, Viking!” Lottie laughed, a hand landing on Ivar’s trembling leg, causing his eyes to widen. “But yes, I knew this was true.” She admitted, giving him a cheeky grin.

Ivar froze as if ice water had drenched him from head to toe. “For fuck sakes… seriously? It was that obvious?” He groaned, pulling the ends of his hair.

Lottie giggled. “Besides the fact that you stare at me anytime I am close, you have a guard ‘secretly’ supervise me at all times, and you slaughter any man that dares approach me… yes, Ivar, you are kind of obvious.” 

Lottie tilted her head, hair draping down her back as she observed the crestfallen Ragnarrson, who had thrown himself down on the bed beside her, covering his icy eyes. Besides the dull cheering ringing from behind the closed door, silence filled the room. Sitting up straight, Lottie cleared her throat. “So, if we’re spilling secrets, I should probably admit mine.”

Ivar refused to uncover his face. “You have a secret?” She hummed in reply, staring at Ivar with a grin he could not see. A harsh breath escaped him. “Well, what is it? It could not be more embarrassing than my ‘not-so-secret’ secret.” He snorted.

“I think you’re pretty cute.” The man shot straight up, wide saucers for eyes as he gazed at Lottie. She admitted, her grin becoming a broad smile at Ivar’s reaction.

“Are you fucking with me?” Ivar whispered, his jaw dropping low.

Laughing, Lottie shook her head. “No, I’m not fucking with you.” She stated, standing up in front of him, nudging his useless legs apart so she could position herself between them. Ivar choked on air. “I’ve thought you were pretty cute for a while now, but seeing you stand up to Sigurd, getting all angry…” She sighed, shaking her head. “It was sexy.”

She was entrancing him like she always had, but hearing Lottie confess her attraction for him aroused Ivar like nothing had before. His dreams were coming to life before his very eyes.

Her soft hands rested on his bare, shuddering shoulders, feeling them relax under her tender stroking. “And it turned me on…” She paused, contemplating as she stared into his foggy, blue eyes as if searching for an answer. “I want us to fuck, Ivar. I want you buried inside me while I scream your name.”

“Am I dreaming?” he whispered, gazing up as if Lottie was Freya, Goddess of Love and Death, preparing to claim him as her own.

Lottie straddled Ivar’s lap, pressing their bodies together, feeling their hearts beat in unison, hammering like Thor was striking them himself. “Not today, my Prince.”

She could feel his solid erection against her core, making her raise a brow as the rumours surrounding Ivar’s condition have always made her curious. Testing the waters, Lottie firmly ground her hips down in one smooth motion, making Ivar groan, throwing his head back with his eyes closed.

Suddenly, they snapped back open. The realisation that he could be aroused by a woman… by Lottie… was all-consuming. His lips began to tremble, and his jaw slackened. Ivar gazed at the smirking Lottie as if she held the sun and stars only for him. Letting out a deep huff, his hands gripped her hips as she continued her slow movements. “Fuck, Lottie.” He panted, pleasure overtaking all his senses as his head dropped against her stomach.

“Hey,” Lottie whispered, pulling his head back up. Ivar’s eyes were drooped in lust, pupils wholly dilated. “If I’m going to ride you, you will look at me while I do it.”

Ivar thrust up against her on instinct, her sultry words going straight to his throbbing dick.

Leaning down, Lottie placed her lips firmly on Ivar’s. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, pulling her flush against his bare chest, grinding up against her as he did. Lottie whined into his mouth, the dominant movement making wetness pool in her trousers. His hands roamed her thighs as their tongues swirled around each other. Lottie’s hands began to wonder, trailing down his broad frame to his cock, giving it a testing squeeze.

Ivar groaned, but pulled Lottie away, making her frown. “Okay, okay... We need to stop.” Ivar wheezed, his eyes avoiding hers as he looked to the ceiling.

Grabbing the Viking’s chin, Lottie stared Ivar dead in the eye. “What the fuck are you talking about?” She questioned, still huffing. “You are Ivar Lothbrok, correct? The man who’s been following me around like a puppy since we met?”

Ivar grumbled, lying back against the bed and covering his eyes. “I know, I know! This is literally my fucking wet dreams coming to life.” He growled, the noise going straight to her core.

Lottie’s thighs felt cold now without Ivar’s warm hands caressing her. “Then, what’s the issue here, Ivar?” She mumbled, confused beyond belief.  

Throwing his hands up in the air and slamming them down on the sheets, Ivar let out a yell. “Fucking Sigurd!”

Taken aback, Lottie rose an eyebrow at Ivar, her face forming a snarl. “Sigurd? Sigurd is why you won’t fuck me! Why are you even thinking about him when I’m straddling your hard-on? Desperate to fuck you!” She cried.

Ivar sat up on his forearms, a frown on his face as he looked at the girl of his dreams. “Because he has had you in ways I cannot, that I do not think I can.”

Lottie shook her head with a soft laugh, hair dangling before her eyes as her hands started to move over Ivar’s chest. “You are the object of my desire. You, your inner power, your fighting spirit is what I have craved for many years. I do not want, Sigurd. I want you.” She declared as Ivar’s hands unconsciously moved up her thighs again.

“Yes, but…”

Lottie cut him off. “No but’s.” Removing her hands from Ivar’s chest, Lottie moved up to her shirt, slipping it off her flushed skin. “Right now, it’s you and me.” Ivar was mesmerised once more as more of Lottie’s skin displayed. “There’s no Sigurd…” She whispered, throwing her shirt to the side, leaving her breasts bare before him, peaky nipples hard in the open air. “There’s no other Ragnarsson…” Ivar’s hands trailed up her warm stomach and cupped her chest, making her bite her lip. “It’s just you and me.”

Ivar nodded absently, his fingers circling her nipples as he held her breasts in his hands, squeezing them gently. “Just you and me.”

“That’s right, Lothbrok,” Lottie smirked, reaching beneath her and stroking his erect member. “So, are we going to talk about Sigurd, or are you going to fuck me?” She squeezed him, locking eyes with Ivar, who was struggling to maintain eye contact with her bare breasts in front of his face.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard that the only man’s name you’ll ever be able to say is Ivar.”

Oh daddy

ben hardy as roger taylor in bohemian rhapsody (2018)