The Orchid Mantis

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.”

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.”

Reading fanfiction isn't enough anymore I need to crawl into my TV and fuck him

fanfic: you walk in to see him cheating on you, crying your eyes out he finally notices and jumps up “Y.N! it isn’t what it looks like!” you cry more as the blonde skanky skanky bitch smirks at you “it’s exactly what it looks it looks like” you run out of the house and jump into your car, hightailing it out of there, you never got to tell him you’re pregnant with twins, his twins, and now you’ll never get to tell him, you won’t allow him to be in their lives, a couple days later he shows up at your house and before you can slam the door he walks into the house “get out” you angrily cry “Y.N! listen to me it wasn’t me, i was being possessed by a demon and had no control over anything i love you” smiling “aww” you squeal you jump into his arms kissing him “i have to tell you something” you look him into the eyes as he speaks “i only have two days to live” you sob falling onto the floor-

me: God damn

'you never read anymore, you used to love reading' and i have 200 safari tabs open. it never stopped it just got weird

You Lost? (Mick Mars x OC) Part 1/?

Part Two

Pairing: Iwan!Mick Mars x OC

Warnings: Mature language 

Word Count: 664

A flash of color appeared in his peripheral vision, something you didn't usually see at a Mötley Crüe party. Glancing around, Mick spotted a woman, no a girl, walking through the crowd. Her pink sweater cropped, flashing her toned stomach, and her white leather skirt flaring, yet leaving little to the imagination. As she got closer to where he was, Mick tried to understand why those white Keds were walking towards him.

She sat down beside him, her leather skirt rising her thigh and drawing Mick's eyes.

"You lost?" Mick gruffed, his eyes darting away. 

With a grin, the girl looked around the room, exaggerating her movements before locking eyes with Mick's dark aviators. "No, I'm pretty sure I'm where I intended to be." She teased.

Mick just ignored her, going back to his vodka.

"I'm Natalie by the way, just if you were wondering." She laughed,

"I wasn't." Mick lied, his blue eyes scanning her behind his sunglasses. From the few seconds he'd stared at her, it was apparent this girl was in the wrong place; her style, her loose blonde curls, her innocent smile... this girl was going to be devoured alive.

"I'm a huge fan of your music, I was actually just at the gig." Natalie explained, her eyes staring at her twiddling hands.

"Well, that's surprising." He chucked, liting a cigarette.

She giggled, she fucking giggled. "Yeah, I've had that reaction before." She took in a deep breath, her eyes anywhere but him. "But, I really wanted to meet you because you're amazing! You actually inspired me to learn guitar." She blushed.

Mick couldn't hide his surprise. "Really? Well, shit."

"Yeah, it was hard to convince my parents. But, I told them it was for the school band." She looked at him with a cheeky smile. Mick let out a chuckle, making Natalie beam.

This girl just kept getting more and more interesting by the minute.

She shuffled closer, that damn skirt rising higher and showing off those perfect thighs, thighs Mick would very much like to be buried between.  

Mick found this girl attractive, her innocence sexy, but he wasn't going to be some 'rockstar one-night-stand experience' that she could tell her friends. “Shouldn’t a girl like you be off trying to fuck the drummer.” He puffed on his smoke.

She clicked her teeth. “Not really my style.”

“Well, that’s new.”

Natalie shook her head. “So, what? That’s not your style either?” A dark eyebrow raised over his aviators, making her giggle. “Fucking a random stranger at Mötley Crüe a party, that’s not your style?” She questioned, her brown eyes roaming over him.

As Mick glanced at her, unknowingly meeting her eyes, he felt his cock twitch. There was a look in her eyes, something deep in that stare that told him this girl would rock his world.

Mick looked away, clearing his throat. “Don’t try and make anything out of it. I like women, and I like fucking, but I happen to respect women more than what these jerk-offs do.” He took a swig of his straight vodka, avoiding her eyes.

“You know, you’re pretty different from your bandmates.” She whispered, moving closer to him so he could hear her over the thumping music. Her bare thighs brushed against his clothed ones, but he could feel their warmth.

He scoffed. “That’s cause they’re a bunch of fucking teenagers."

Smirking at the older guitarist, Natalie placed a delicate hand on his knee. “It’s a good thing I’m looking for a man then.”

Mick's breath caught in his throat, his blue eyes meeting hers over his aviators. Giggling, Natalie moved her hand, to Mick's disappointment, and stole his sunglasses off his face, placing them on her own.

"But, I wanna get to know you first. So what do you say, wanna blow this party and go get a burger?" Natalie asked, her beaming grin making Mick smirk.

"You're full of surprises, Natalie." He mumbled.

"Oh baby, I'm just getting started."

that fucking shirt   x

I didn’t choose to give up my life and soul to Bucky Barnes, it just happened