tight leather trousers

The Stolen Throne in 15 minutes

I wrote this parody back in 2010 and it would be a shame if Livejournal dies with this mocking post, so have a re-post here on tumblr. I actually love Stolen Throne, but it’s not going to win a Nobel prize, that’s for damn sure.  

REBEL QUEEN: *is slain *

MARIC, a Level 1 Prince: OH NOES! I can barely hold a sword and now I’m all alone on the run from the usurper! HELP! HELP!

LOGHAIN, a Level 56 Warrior, several miles away: I have a really bad feeling about this shit.

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Do You?

Pairing: Mick Davies x Reader

Word Count: Under 1300

Warnings: None I don’t think. Does Mick getting slapped count?

Notes: All props to my girl @perseusandmedusa for coming up with the story idea. I just wrote it lol. Hope you like it! There will be a smutty part 2 ;) xox

Parking your Harley Davidson in the British Men of Letters garage, you pulled off your helmet, your long hair cascading over your shoulders, and surveyed the room. It was still exactly the same way you remembered it. It amazed you the organisation hadn’t upgraded to somewhere fancier considering how long they’d been stationed in America now.

Anxiety filled you as you made your way to where Dr Hess was waiting for you.

“Y/N, what a pleasure to see you again!” she announced, giving you her world-renown false smile and opening her arms here for an embrace.

Standing your ground, you lifted a brow. “Is he here?”

Sighing, she eyed you with immediate irritation and dropped her arms. “Of course that’s the first thing you ask me. Yes he is. He lives here, dear.”

Imitating her sigh, you skulked after her and unzipped your leather jacket, revealing a gorgeous black corset underneath that emphasised everything you had to offer. Tight leather trousers and knee-high black boots completed the outfit. Your make-up was dark and sultry and you felt as hot as you looked. You made the decision about an hour before you had to leave to make sure you looked as good as possible. If you were going to have to see Michael Davies again, you’d make sure you made him regret leaving you.

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Princes and Princesses

Summary: Sequel to Kings and Queens. | Actor AU | Emma is finally getting used to life in the spotlight, thanks to hit TV show Kings and Queens. She has many people to help her along the way; her son, her friends and her boyfriend, Killian Jones. But changes are going to have to be made on Kings and Queens, and the world she’s getting used to is about to turn upside down, leaving her questioning if she ever really understood it at all.

Read it on FF.NET

Read Kings and Queens.

Author’s Notes

So a few notes before this chapter: this is a sequel to Kings and Queens. If you haven’t read it but want to read this, don’t worry about it! I’ve done my best to fill in as many blanks as possible, so a new reader would be able to understand without reading the 1st one. However, if you want to see Emma and Killian fall in love, check it out!

Secondly, thank you so much to you guys who wanted a sequel! I didn’t think the idea would be met with so much enthusiasm so it really really means a lot to me that you guys are on board with this. I’m excited because I just think there’s so much I could do with this universe. Thank you for supporting me with Kings and Queens- I hope you like Princes and Princesses. And with that, let’s dive into the next chapter of Emma and Killian’s journey! Happy reading!

BIG BIG BIG thank you to @irishswanff and @captainwiley for being the most amazing betas and friends a person could have. <3

Tagging some amazing peoples right here:

@swanandapirate @kmomof4 @katie-dub @ofshipsandswans

Let me know if you want to be tagged! 

Chapter 1

Emma pulls on her jeans. She jumps up and down on the spot as she tugs. They’re a little tight, and it’s a fight to fasten them– she even ends up catching her skin as she zips them up. It’s official. Emma has entered into a relationship where she is so happy, that she has given into chocolate and cake. Or maybe her jeans have just shrunk in the wash. Hopefully.

A beep comes from outside. Shit, she thinks as she hops over to the window, and peeks through the curtain. It’s Killian- she knew it would be- sat in one of his many cars. What is it this time? A Mercedes? A Jag? She doesn’t know and quite frankly, she doesn’t care as long as it gets them to work.

She grabs her phone from where she’d thrown it on the bed, and types out a reply.

Be down in a second. Getting ready.

His reply is instant.

Need some help? ;)

She can’t help but smile.


It’s at that moment she realises how late she’s running. Hell, Killian’s already outside and she hasn’t even got her shirt on yet. She grabs something crumpled from the bottom of her bed, knowing she’ll be changing into her costume soon anyway. She pulls her hair into a tight ponytail at the back of her head. She passes for presentable now; she can be attractive later, when she gets Killian alone.


Her boyfriend.

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Ways To Advance Your Roleplaying Experience Pt. 2: Character Design - Creating a Compelling Look

One of the fun parts of creating your own characters is designing their appearance. It’s easy to rush past this part, and many people do, but you’d be surprised how many roleplaying elements can be lost when you don’t take the time to design your character.

Both how your character reacts in different areas as well as how people interact with them can be greatly influenced by their appearance. For example…

original: Patty was a small thief boy with choppy hair and tight, non descript clothes.

Now that is a pretty generic and simple description, and you can easily play with just (and there’s no harm in that!). However, with a broad description like that, everyone may picture your character differently from how you picture them and proceed to react, respond and just generally interact with you differently based on those ideas. Below are a few detailed descriptions that can all fall under Patty’s original and general description.

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i really wanted some zev/warden + the ‘oh no theres only one bed’ trope so here we go (also a few of my other favourite tropes but it’ll ruin the plot if i told u 👀) special shout out to @bittywritings for the spanish translation

oh also it gets like mildly nsfw but only a little 


He had never signed up for snow.

Killing Darkspawn, absolutely. An obscene amount of rain, that too. Terribly sticky, muddy, Fereldan fields, he would tolerate at best… but only with a blonde mage that would chat to him with infectious enthusiasm at his side.

Zevran Arainai was an adaptable man, was forced to be one, but he drew the line at a snowstorm of all things.

It would have just been too much for the Urn of Sacred ashes to be somewhere sunny, in Rivain maybe, in the middle of a brothel, next to a beach. No, the blasted Urn just had to be in the middle of a frosty wasteland.

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anonymous asked:

Can you please, please write some fluffy Wolfstar where Sirius is having problems with his parents or something? I'm just having a pretty shitty day and I would appreciate it. I'm sorry if it's a bother.

It’s not a bother at all! Sorry it took me a few days to get to this. 


Sirius slammed the door to their dormitory and all three sets of eyes turned to look at him. He was holding a letter that was clenched tightly in his fist, his shoulders tensed and his teeth gritted. James opened his mouth to say something but before he could, Sirius was flinging himself forward into Remus’ bed.

Remus was startled for a moment but then quickly pulled Sirius into his arms. He arranged them so Sirius was cradled against him and Remus could pet his hair the way Sirius liked.

Sirius let out a tiny sob and buried his face in Remus’ neck. 

“Do you want to talk about it, Pads?” Remus asked, looking over Sirius’ head towards James, who looked a bit distraught that Sirius wasn’t talking about it and hadn’t come to him.

Sirius shook his head and just clung to Remus tighter. 

“Hey Pete, why don’t we go outside for a moment?” James said, clearly not wanting to leave but not wanting to smother Sirius either. James slid off his bed and led Peter down to the common room with Peter whispering to James about what they were doing.

This was a new development in their group. Sirius had always gone to James for everything, when he was happy, sad, confused, lonely. But since Remus and Sirius had begun dating, Sirius seemed to seek out Remus first. Remus just hoped that James wasn’t upset about it. Not that he’d say if he were. He’d just play it off like it was nothing and make some kind of stupid joke.

“What can I do, Sirius?” Remus asked, pressing a soft kiss to Sirius’ temple.

“Is it okay if I turn into Padfoot?” Sirius asked, sniffling quietly. “I just…I don’t want to be my right now.”

“Sure,” Remus said, giving him a small encouraging smile.

Sirius transformed into his animagus form and the large dog took up a significant amount of Remus’ bed. Padfoot turned around a few times and licked Remus’ face before getting settled. 

Remus noticed that as he’d changed, Sirius had dropped the letter onto the bed. Remus carefully reached for it. Padfoot watched and let out a small whine, but he didn’t stop Remus from taking the letter and reading it. 

It was standard fare for Walburga Black, a whole bunch of shite about Sirius being a disgrace and how he better not be corrupting Regulus with his blood traitor nonsense. It also detailed that Sirius was to be cut off from any financial help from his parents for the remainder of the school year because of a prank they’d pulled on the Slytherin common room, filling it with toads. They would no longer support his childish behavior and so Sirius would not be getting any money from his parents for the rest of the year. It also mentioned that there were rumors going around the school about Sirius and Remus and if they were true and Sirius were fraternizing with a half-blood, he would be disowned. 

Remus sighed and ran his fingers through Padfoot’s fur. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, dropping his head down and kissing the dog on the top of the head. “We can…we can stop being together if it would help.”

Padfoot let out a whine and nuzzled his face against Remus.

Remus chuckled and wrapped his arms around Padfoot’s neck. “I just want things to be easier for you, Sirius. They’re not when we’re together.”

Padfoot barked in complaint and licked Remus’ face. 

Remus sighed and buried his face against the soft black fur. “I’m sorry they hate you for loving me.”

Suddenly the soft fur against his cheek changed into soft skin as Sirius became human again. He wrapped his arms around Remus and hugged him tightly. “I’m not,” Sirius said quietly. “They can hate me all they want but they can’t stop this.”

Remus swallowed thickly and nodded. “What can I do, Sirius? Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

Sirius pulled back slightly and grinned. “Anything, Moony?”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Get your mind out of the gutter,” he teased, shoving Sirius off the bed.

Sirius went sprawling and looked up at Remus with his best hurt puppy look. “How am I supposed to help it?” Sirius asked, crawling back up onto the bed. “When I’ve got such a sexy boyfriend? Besides, it wasn’t me pulling you into a closet yesterday, was it, Moony?”

Remus snorted and pulled Sirius down into a kiss. “So it’s all my fault then, is it?” he asked, sliding his hand under Sirius’ shirt and flattening his hand against the small of Sirius’ back. “It had nothing to do with you wearing those tight leather trousers you got in the muggle shop over Christmas, eh?”

Sirius smirked wickedly. “You love me in those trousers.”

“I love you all the time,” Remus corrected, kissing Sirius again. “But especially in those trousers.”

Sirius laughed and shook his head. “How do you always manage to make me feel better?”

“It’s one of my many talents,” Remus murmured, running his hand slowly and soothingly up and down Sirius’ back. “Including charms, herbology, kissing and making Sirius Black feel better.”

Sirius hummed and rested his head against Remus’ chest. “She’s not going to stop me loving you, you know.”

“I know,” Remus said softly. “If your mum could make you do anything then you’d be in Slytherin and we’d never have spoken.”

“Oh, we’d have spoken,” Sirius said, lacing his fingers through Remus’ on his free hand.  “I couldn’t have kept away from you even if you were in a different house.”

“Is that so?” Remus asked jokingly, raising an eyebrow.

“Definitely,” Sirius said with a slight nod. “You’re irresistible, Moony and you’re mine.”

Remus closed his eyes and smiled. “I guess that’s not so bad, then, belonging to Sirius Black.” 

“Mine,” Sirius said, giving Remus’ hand a gentle squeeze.

Sirius quickly dropped off to sleep, snoring softly against Remus’ chest, his hair tickling Remus’ nose. Remus kept up rubbing Sirius’ back as he slept, wanting to take care of him. 

“Yours,” Remus whispered. 


Pairing: Eunhyuk/Reader

Warnings: Just sex with no plot yay

Genre: Smut baby!

It had been a mistake or so she thought, sending those pictures. He hadn’t replied in a while and she was beginning to think that maybe he wasn’t interested. Her body clad in a black babydoll, think black heels lay on the bed, soft and fresh as if mocking her not to innocent state with the cream sheets.

Two hours later the time was hitting 11pm, she realised that maybe he had been pulled into an important meeting or had to practice Swing a few more times so she pulled the kingsize duvet over her body and fell into a sleep where his schedule didn’t exist. She arose from her sleep softly to see Eunhyuk peel his leather skin tight trousers and the black jumper off to join his socks on the floor.

“Hey you” He climbed on top of the duvet crawling closer to her with every breath. He looked a dream, dark hair in a quiff which was starting to lose it’s sense of direction and those thick lips bitten and god those half lidded eyes, her skin prickled and goosebumps rose when he reached her. “I think you’ve been naughty baby” His voice was a whisper and she could feel the anticipation already there, teasing her for earlier.

“What did I do?” Her faked innocence made him scoff and push her back down onto the pillows, her hair was sprawled across the bed making her look like a goddess in that black babydoll. 

“You made me want to fuck you against the wall I was standing again, God baby you made me feel so good and yet so bad because I wasn’t inside of you, fucking tease” His words were printed across her neck as he sucked on the skin softly, a big teasing game he was playing well until she begged for him. “Let me worship this beautiful body of yours" 

Ten minutes later and she was moaning into the night, her legs were pulled apart and Eunhyuk was showing her exactly how he could tease, his fingers worked in and out of her slowly while his tongue flicked at her clit and licked her out like she was honey, sweet and beautiful.

"Shit Eunhyuk please.. please baby” Her hands were in his hair, pulling the roots which made him hiss and fuck her a little harder with his oh so talented fingers.

“Please what” He held his eye contact with her as long as possible while he enjoyed every drop of her, ripples of pleasure ran through her veins, a light sheen of sweat appeared on her body and she felt hot, really hot. She needed to cum so bad.

“Fuck me please” He crawled up above her body, hands rubbing up and down her body, pulling on her hardened nipples and then sucking some softly soothing his little assault. 

“Beg baby, otherwise I’ll leave you here dripping like the dirty slut you are” He kissed her softly at first but when she pulled him in closer their tongues collided and soon everything heated up some more, the kiss was hard and lustful. “Beg” he nibbled at her earlobe knowing how it made her go all breathy and hot.

“Oh Eunhyuk, I want your big hard cock fucking me until I beg you stop, I want you to pound into me and make me cum again. I need you right now baby” Her words pulsed straight down to his cock making it harder than before, he grabbed her hands in one swift movement and pulled them above her head, pinning her down while he slammed into her in one thrust. He waited a little before smirking, leaning down to her flushed face. 

“Like this baby?” He pulled out slowly and thrust back in to her soaking core hard, her whole body shook and the pleasure made her toes curl.

“Yes, yes just like that” He grabbed hold of her hips and with this chance she pulled him closer holding him to her with her hands on his shoulders. “Baby please fuck me harder” Her words were like venom to him in his ears, her voice a breathy whisper and a maon included when he thrust back into her, holding onto her as he fucked her in such a delicious way, the bed shook and their voices got louder and louder. Sentecnes flew out of his mouth, telling her how good she felt around his hard cock, how he was going to fuck her so so good that she’ll never tease him again, how tomorrow he was going to spank her beautiful ass and then fuck her again. Her head was filled with all those images and soon she was quivering mess; he rubbed circles onto her swollen clit, knowing he was clit he fucked into her as hard as possible.

“Shit, yes baby I’m gonna cum”

“Not yet okay, not yet!” His body was flushed tight against his and her words in his ears made him almost cum too soon. 

“Fuck i’m going to cum all over your cock, fuck right there Eunhyuk don’t you stop. Fuck!” she moaned his name over and over again as he came with a shout of her name. He fucked the last bits of his orgasm into her hard until she came again with only his lips to silence her.

“Think i’m always going to tease you baby”

“God you perfect girl” His hair was wild, stuck to his forehead and that perfect smile as he cuddled her for the first time that night, their bodies were entwined and stayed that way all night.

This Might Be The Last Time

A Kwon Jiyong/G-Dragon Fanfiction

Summary: You’d just wanted to dance away your worries, let the music take you to better places. But when you meet Kwon Jiyong in the new club in town, you never imagined ‘better places’ would be so easy to find, and so difficult to hold onto.

Chapter summary: Performing at the MAMA’s and Jiyong surprises you on stage….

Chapter type: ALL THE FLUFF :)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction.
*I am not insinuating that the real life Kwon Jiyong takes drugs, it is simply a detail of this fictional story*

Chapter 37 (Coming soon)

Chapter 36

1 week later

‘Baby, you look beautiful, stop worrying.’ Ji says from his seat next to you, your view of him being cut off by the makeup artist as she flits around you transforming your face into one of a majestic goddess.

'How am I meant to not worry? You’re about to drag me down the red carpet at one of South Korea’s biggest music award shows, in front of millions of viewers…I cant-’

'Hey, hey!’ he cuts you off, reaching for your hand and holding it gently in his as he looks at you.

'You’re literally, the most beautiful woman in this entire country right now, probably even in the world-’

'Probably?’ you ask, raising an eyebrow and seeing him grin at you, and feeling him squeeze your knee.

'That’s more like the confidence I want to see.’ he says, chuckling as you roll your eyes.

'Okay, you’re good to go.’ the makeup artist says and you finally look at yourself in the mirror, losing your breath slightly when you see yourself.

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-peeks head around door- Heeey there remember me? Kekekeke Admin R here with a request for and Onho threesome! Say whaaaaaa???? Onho…wow…just…yeah this is a ickle different ;) ~ Admin R

The pounding music could be heard reverberating off the concrete walls, steadily growing louder as you approached your destination, arms linked with your best friends as you grew more and more curious about where they had decided to take you for your twenty-first birthday.

When you finally saw the large queue spiralling around the block from the neon pink sign covering as much as a third of the building itself, you halted before attempting to turn on your heels. Your friends however, had put you right in the middle and the friendly arm links suddenly became vice grips as you were pulled back towards the busy club.

“No! No! No! No! NO! There is no way in hell I am going to a strip club!” you protested, kicking your black ballet flats out to try deter them. All it did was make you look like a large child having a tantrum.

Your friends just giggled, pulling you closer to your doom, “C’mon, ______-ah! It’ll be fun! Plus you only turn twenty one once!”

Your other two friends nodded along, “I’ve heard that the male strippers in here are legendary.” One jittered excitedly, the other nodding vigorously along,

“Sometimes you have to book weeks in advance to be certain you get in since the line is always so long.”

You rolled your eyes at their behaviour, “And what makes you think we’ll even get in then? Why are we wasting our time?”

Your closest friend simply laughed, “Well we weren’t stupid enough to come without a booking so like it or not, we’re getting in.”

“But it’s my birthday!” you whined, trying to escape desperately one last time.

“Exactly! And this will make it so that it’s a birthday you’ll never forget.”

You knew you were doomed as soon as you saw the club, relenting finally and hoping you didn’t regret it too much.


Thirty minutes and you were still regretting it. Since you had pre-booked reservations, you were able to cut the line and get inside the dimly lit club much to your chagrin.

Dry ice misted over the floor, around circular tables that were all facing towards a large catwalk like stage, breaking off into branches around the clubs perimeter.

You were nursing your second cocktail, looking anywhere but at the attractive males serving you as various strippers took their turn centre stage.

Your friends or the friends you wished you didn’t know right about now, were enjoying the show to the full. Beyond tipsy they whistled and called at the countless attractive men dancing for them, nearly fainting when they noticed them and just about dying when they decided to give them a private show.

In an attempt to avoid your friend as she made out with a half-naked stranger, you, you swerved around the various waiters to the bar where an equally attractive male took your order for another cocktail even though you had yet to finish your second.

If only to have your back to the stage, then you would sit at that bar all night until your friends were done.

With your chin resting on your hand as you swirling the straw in yours colourful alcoholic concoction you failed to see the solitary man pause in his stride as he caught sight of you.

His long bangs fell fully into his eyes as he cocked his head in curiosity, his eyes raking over your figure as a smirk crept onto his mouth before making his way to your awkward form.

“You don’t seem to be enjoying the show, gorgeous.” You raised your head at the voice to see a guy who should have been on that stage himself. A grey blazer fell over an expensive looking dress shirt. His hair nearly glowed as the neon lights bounced off the silky locks. You just wanted to run your hands through it. He flipped his bangs, throwing them out of his eyes; the dark orbs looking down at your seductively as his tongue peeked out unconsciously.

You shook yourself when you realised you were staring, “Oh umm, this isn’t really my kind of place.”

He raised perfectly arched eyebrow, leaning against the bar counter beside you, “Doesn’t every woman want beautiful men serving their every wish?” he asked curiously, his long fingers tapping lazily on the bars surface.

“Not necessarily…” you replied quietly. You weren’t sure if he heard you over the loud music.

His eyebrows raised delicately, “Beautiful women then?”

You choked slightly as you sipped your drink at his comment, feeling his warm hand pat your back lightly as he stared at you curiously.

When you finally met his eye again, a blush was strewn across your face, “No! I mean…” you looked away from his piercing gaze, “I like men-”

“But you don’t know what to do in this sort of place?” he chuckled, finishing your sentence.

You blushed harder as you folded your arms self-consciously.

Shaking his head, he took your hands in his, effectively unfolding them again as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, “I think I might be able to help with that.”

You shivered involuntarily as his breath fell on your ear, your nerves hyperaware of his closeness, “What do you know about strip clubs?”

He pulled back at your sharp question. Usually woman were already naked by the time he got to this point. Letting out a bark of laughter his eyes sparkled as he caught your confused eyes,

“Honey, I own this place. I happen to know a thing or two.”

You felt your eyes grow to the size of saucepans as embarrassment filled you. Memory after memory of you telling him this wasn’t your kind of place set in on after the other.

Shit, I basically insulted this guy’s entire profession… you thought, kicking yourself.

He seemed to notice your change in demeanour, as well as the confliction covering your face causing him to smile slightly at your innocence.

Innocence he’d very much like to rip from you right then and there.

“Why don’t we sit through the rest of the show and then I can…assist you.” He put out, his eyes shamelessly raking your body. You could clearly see him, but part of you, a very deep and hidden part, wanted him to look. Wanted him to keep looking and like what he saw.

You felt yourself nod, heart hammering as he took hold of your hand, entwining his long fingers with your own and leading you back to your table.

You barely registered the curious looks from your friends. Well, the friends who were still around. You spotted your best friend in a dark corner, fingers tangled in the dark mess of a gorgeous man, sinful guyliner and only a pair of tight leather trousers on as he dominated your friend before pushing her into a cleverly concealed doorway.

Well, you knew you wouldn’t be seeing her till the morning. Or the morning after that.

“Are they allowed do that?” you asked the mysterious man currently keeping your company.

He, who had been observing the performances, turned his full attention back to you, “Allowed to do what?” he looked over your shoulder to see the hidden door close behind your friend and her lover, “you mean fuck the clients?”

Your cheeks heated at his crass language but you nodded slightly all the same.

“Sweetheart, they can fuck who they want as long as it’s consensual and doesn’t affect their performance the next night.”

You looked back at the now empty corner before turning back to the man, “You must be very lenient to let them do that while they work.”

He shrugged with a roll of his shoulder, “What can I say, it helps with their hip action.”

His eyes bore into yours, his teeth grabbing his bottom lip before releasing it. You didn’t stop him as he leaned in towards you, “I must say, I haven’t had help with my hip action in far too long.” His teeth, that had you mesmerised as they worried his lip grasped your earlobe as his tongue ran over the flesh lightly.

You visibly gasped at his ministrations, his hand coming up to cup your neck closer to him as he bit down from your ear, dragging his tongue down your neck before returning to your ear again,

“My name is Onew by the way…” he murmured huskily.

Before you had a chance to reply the music suddenly stopped. Onew’s face turned away from you as the lighting dimmed to near nonexistence.

“Ah.” He said to himself before turning back to you, “This might change your mind about strip clubs.”

As he finished his sentence, a single light filtered from the high room, landing on a tall man.

His face shrouded in the shadow of the light didn’t hinder your capability to see how beautiful he was. Attired in tight white trousers, edged with black and a blazer that was sinfully revealing it wasn’t until he raised his head, his large sultry eyes boring into yours that you knew there was no going back.

He didn’t perform to the extent of the others, but his every move held you captivated. His dark eyes looking towards you really weren’t helping matters.

His hand clenched in his hair, he dragged it down his face and body as the slow, sensual music started, his body moving fluidly.

As one hand moved down his body, the other followed suit, except it trailed from his right thigh, over his naval where it met the other hand.

A devilish smirk swept across his face as he tore the blazer open, a stark difference to the previous dancers. His brutal treatment of the jacket had you squirming in your seat.

Your body only heated up further as his hand lay to rest on his crotch, covering the evident bulge through the white fabric. His hips swerved and gyrated slowly but he never made any other movement to remove his clothing.

Rather, the sight of his head thrown back as his hips moved scandalously to the music, eyes closed and mouth open was enough to have every woman in the room soaking with desire for this man.

“Minho’s talented for a newcomer isn’t he?” Onew mused beside you, dragging you attention from the porn star worthy stripper to the equally desirable and just as mysterious Onew.

“New?” you looked back, disappointment filling you as the music finally came to a stop and the light shut off on the stage, effectively removing him from sight.

“Hired him just last week but the kid knows how to use his body. Even if he is in a little need of…training.”

You were about to reply when someone called Onew’s attention. Tsking, he dragged his finger along your cheek as he stood, “I’ll be back sweetheart.”

You watched him leave as realisation hit. There you were ogling over two men, not just men, strippers who seemed to both just get under your skin.

Fresh air sounded like heaven all of a sudden and you were eager to clear your head of all these thoughts.

If only you had been lucky enough to make it to the balcony-terrace. As you made your way through crowds of people your arm was snatched, roughly pulling you into a concealed hallway.

You would have been amazed that a hallway with at least six doors on either wall could go unnoticed, but you were slightly preoccupied with the lips currently smashed against yours.

Gasping, you only gave the stranger the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth as his lower body came in contact with your own. Grinding his hips slowly, your eyes flew open. The stranger pulled back to reveal the stripper, Minho, you had been so enthralled with.

One hand digging into your hip while the other planted itself on the wall by your head, he was even more gorgeous up close.

His dark hair fell into equally dark eyes. His eyes, bigger than any you’d ever seen and lust licking through their dark flaming orbs.

“I saw you watching me.” He whispered. Oh God, his voice. You thought helplessly as the rich, deep rumble fell from his lips. It only made him more attractive.

“There…there were lots of people watching you.” You stuttered, trying to keep your voice even.

He smirked, “Yeah. But I saw YOU watching me.” His lips found yours again without warning but all you found yourself doing was tangling your hands in his soft hair, desperate to feel as much of him as possible.

Your tongues rolled over each other, not breaking for breath as his head tilted to deepen the kiss even further. When you finally did need to break away from each other for air, he was quick to attack your jaw with butterfly kisses,

“Do you know how hard you got me? Those innocent little eyes looking at me…all I could think about was taking you. Right there on stage.”

You moaned at his dirty talking, hardly able to believe something like this was happening, that you were letting something like this happen.

That didn’t stop you from letting him drag you further down that hidden hallway, your lips staying connected as he fished for the handle of the nearest door. When he finally got it open, you were thrown inside before being slammed you against the closed door.

Your nails raked down his chest, still bare from his performance as his jacket hung redundant on his shoulders. He growled at the stinging that your nails sent through his body, pulling your hips to his own and grinding hard against you.

You let your head fall back as his hand gripped your hair. You felt the pressure he put on your head, forcing you to your knees as he stared down at you.

He said nothing but arched a perfect eyebrow but that was all you needed to run your hands all over his thighs, across the band of his thin trousers.

“Don’t tease me…” he snarled.

“Mmmm,” you could only moan at his demands. In your mind you were screaming at yourself, you never did anything like this. But that screaming was getting quieter and quieter the closer you got to the impressive bulge Minho’s trousers mounded around. Fuck it, it was your birthday and you were going to enjoy it.

Fishing into his trousers, you stroked his cock once, twice, before releasing it from its restraint and tightening your grip on him, revelling in the hiss that escaped his lips.

You gulped at his size, meeting his dark gaze once before steeling yourself and licking the tip lightly with the tip of your tongue.

His head fell back as a drawn out groan left those gorgeous lips, going right to your core which was getting wetter by the moment.

Encasing his cock in your mouth fully, you sucked the head, dragging your tongue over it as his hands tangled in your hair, pushing you to take more of him.

“C’mon beautiful.” He rasped above you as you steadily took more and more of him in till he hit the back of your throat. He relaxed slightly when he felt you gag.

Finding your pace, one of your hands gripped the base of his cock as you bobbed your head. Your other hand snaked up his thigh to his abdomen where you gasped when you felt him take your finger in his mouth, mimicking the actions you were doing to his cock.

He steadily started thrusting into your mouth and you moaned around him at his dominance. You had never had a guy like him before, one that was so sure of what he wanted and not afraid to take it. It was turning you on more than you could imagine.

You sucked on him harder, taking his pants and whimpers of pleasure to determine what he liked as his thrusts became shallow. He was close, but the door opening again had you both pausing.

You removed Minho’s cock from your mouth hastily. You tried not to let the growl of annoyance that emitted from Minho drive you crazy but Onew leaning on the doorframe was distracting you sufficiently.

You made to stand but Minho’s hand on your shoulder stopped you. He didn’t seem fazed being seen naked by his boss but you did and you were fully clothed!

“Can we help you? As you can see, this rooms taken.” Minho growled at the other man.

Onew didn’t reply, his eyes falling from Minho’s down to yours, smirking, “Seems you found a reason to enjoy strip clubs sweetheart.” He made his way further into the room, “I feel so abandoned now.”

You opened you mouth to reply but were rendered speechless when Onew made his way towards the two of you, catching the back of Minho’s head and smashing his lips against him.

Your eyes widened as Minho moaned helplessly, Onew deepening the kiss before breaking it to look at you heatedly, “You were in the middle of something right? Don’t keep him waiting now…”

You blinked at him a few times as he went back to kissing your stripper, his hands running down the younger man’s snapping you out of your daze. This was getting crazy and insanely hot and you loved every bit of it.

You took Minho’s cock back in your mouth suddenly, moaning at the strangled cry that he made, muffled by Onew’s tongue. You picked up your former pace, stroking the base you couldn’t reach as you sucked him deeper, creating suction at the tip which always seemed to make him whimper.

Hearing such a dominant guys cries was doing something to you and you didn’t want it to stop.

You increased your pace as he began thrusting frantically in your mouth, his cries muffled by Onew’s lips as his hands trailed along the older man body, unbuttoning his expensive shirt to touch the burning flesh underneath.

You looked up at their tangled bodies, moaning around Minho causing him to break from Onew, looking down at you heated, panting for breath as he stroked your hair lovingly.

You met his eyes before they closed as Onew moved behind him to remove the jacket he had no further need of, kissing his neck delicately, biting it occasionally.

As his head fell against Onew’s shoulder his pants became shallow and you focused on his cock again, bobbing faster, tightening your grip. That must have done it because with a cry he came in your mouth, suddenly. You moaned at the sticky substance shooting down your throat.

Removing his cock from your mouth, you swallowed before standing.

You were immediately taken by Onew, who kissed you harshly, licking the remainder of Minho’s come off the corner of your lip, groaning at the salty taste before capturing your lips again.

He pushed you backwards, your lips still attached as your knees hit the edge of the bed. You let yourself drop onto the soft mattress, shifting yourself further into it as Onew prowled on top of you, growling as he caught your bottom lip between his teeth.

“We’re going to make you scream sweetheart.” He whispered huskily, licking along your lip before shoving it into your mouth, his hands grasping your thigh, pushing your dress further up.

You felt your eyes all close as Onew kissed the skin your dress revealed when another pair of hands found your legs. Opening your eyes slightly, you saw Minho kiss up your leg, now completely naked as he stared into your eyes, kissing the inside of your knee.

Onew finally stripped you, massaging your breasts through the thin layer of your bra. You mewled at his touch, arching your back as both sets of hands sent bolts of pleasure through your body.

“Hmmm do you like that sweetheart?” Onew whispered, his head falling into your neck where he gave you a similar treatment to Minho, licking and biting his way down to your collarbones where he sucked harshly.

His hand snaked around your back to unclasp your bra and one of your peeked buds was in hi mouth before you could properly register that you were pretty much naked.

Letting your head fall back, your eyes fell on the dark man getting dangerously close to your dripping core, his fingers dancing along the hem of your panties.

You moaned to edge him on, shifting your hips closer to him as he raised his eyes slowly to yours, smirking before ripping through the material of your panties.

You gasped as his hot breath fell on your centre, too far gone to feel embarrassed as you bucked your hips in need. They had both teased you so much the entire night that the simplest of touches had your body set alight.

Your back arches higher as Minho dragged his tongue slowly along your slit, moaning at your taste as he made sure to give your clit a touch of his tongue as he finished.

“Mmm Hyung…she taste so good.” He groaned, before burying his face in your wetness, dipping his tongue into you as he assaulted you. Your hips bucked involuntarily as he inserted three finger into you roughly, causing you to whimper in pain and pleasure.

Onew wasn’t helping matters as he sucked on your nipples, biting and marking them while his hand took care of the other.

You head fell back with a cry as Minho hit that one spot in you, making Onew’s eyes flash with desire. He left your breast, standing before removing the rest of his clothes. Through your haze of pleasure you felt your eyes widen at the sight of his cock. You’d never seen one as big before and it intimidated you as well as wanting it inside you.

Biting his lip, he pulled Minho’s hair roughly, separating him from you as the younger stood.

“I want her first. You can have her later.” He growled before licking the corners of Minho’s mouth, currently glistening with your juices.

You hadn’t even come yet but the hurdles both of them were putting you through was tiring you out to the point of madness. Both of them knew what they were doing, and they were doing it well.

You watched as Minho took a seat in a chair opposite the bed, where he began stroking himself slowly, biting his lip as he looked you in the eye, “Make me moan for you…” he whimpered as your thighs were pulled towards Onew.

You turned your attention back to Onew as he aligned his throbbing cock with your entrance. Gripping his shoulders you pushed yourself closer to him,

“Eager are we?” He chuckled before ramming into you in one thrust.

You were sure your scream must have been heard throughout the club as his size stretched you beyond imagination. Your nails digging into his back, you revelled in the kisses he peppered along your neck and face.

Whimpering, you told him to move, his thrusts steadily building to a rougher pace, his fingers bruising your thighs as he held you closer. He kept eye contact with you and Minho’s moans from across the room were only serving to drive you crazier as your vision blurred.

Onews’ hips snapped into yours as he drilled into you unforgivingly. He angled his hips perfectly, hitting that one spot Minho had found earlier and you saw white as you screamed both their names.

It didn’t take long for you to fall over the edge, your orgasm sweeping through you like an avalanche. You felt Onew remove himself from you, pumping himself quickly before groaning as he spilled himself on your stomach.

You panted at the sight of his head thrown back, his mouth open as he was drained of every last drop but your attention was soon changed as you were flipped suddenly, another cock filling you without notice.

You cried out, sensitive and sore as it began pounding into you. You looked back, Minho leaning over your back to kiss you passionately,

“Sorry…” he mumbled, thrusting hard a few times before reverting to the long fast strokes he had been doing before. Onew had since fallen at the head of the bed, watching the two of you lazily as Minho fucked you senseless.

Your arms felt weak as he continued to pound into you, his hand coming round to play with your clit as you felt your body quiver from the amount of pleasure you had already been subjected to and the amount you were still receiving.

“Minho…I can’t…” you sobbed as you felt your orgasm build up again.

“Come for me.” He panted, rutting into you harder.

His voice was all it took for you to completely lose yourself again, falling on the bed as you came for the second time. Minho wasn’t far behind you, crying out in pleasure as he came inside you, thrusting weakly as he rode out his orgasm.

Collapsing on your other side, Minho threw an arm around you, snuggling closer as you looked at Onew who was smirking at you before he kissed you gently.

“I’ll give you a keycard. Come visit us whenever you like sweetheart.”

You felt yourself blush but sleep was overcoming you. Onew only chuckled and kissed your forehead, “I’ll give it to you after you’ve rested lovely.”

Well, you’re friends were right about something. It was definitely a birthday you’d never forget!

[Open] A chance meeting

Loki had managed to get out of Jotunheimr and was living on Midgard, he had mastered the ability to control his temperature and disguise himself in a Midgardian skin. He still had his butt-length hair and occasionally wore feathers in it like he did back at home. He was getting used to life here, though sometimes it was still confusing, but he had discovered he had quite the tolerance to Midgardian booze and as a result he entered a lot of drinking competitions as a way of making money. On this particular night he won two competitions against two wannabe drinking champions, however Loki was starting to feel a little tipsy.

The young prince was sat at the bar, his barely-legal appearance drew just as much attention as his excessive drinking and impressive hair. Tonight he was wearing a pale green silk shirt completely unfastened showing his milky white skin, he adored the look of pale skin, his piercing green eyes surrounded in soft black eyeliner, a pair of skin tight leather trousers and knee-high biker boots, his hair was braided down his back and tied off with his green ribbon. The bar was fairly busy but he still had his black motorcycle helmet with ‘Loki’ painted in green across the side placed on the stool beside himself but eventually moved it when someone went to touch it so they could sit down. He looked at them, “You could have asked me to move it rather than touching it with your greasy fingers.” He commented, his cheeks lightly flushed from the alcohol.

Ok guys, it took some time, but I finally posted the second part of this fic. And it got really long, so in the interests of saving those on mobile from endless scrolling, click through at the end of this snippet to read the rest!


Unless I Can’t Resist It

Part Two

Robin is bored out of his mind.

So, naturally, he is thinking about the Queen.

He is in the middle of taking an inventory of all the castle’s weaponry. He figured it needed to be done; with the various skirmishes they’d had on the way to the castle and in the weeks they’d been there, nobody was certain how many of anything they still had, and the armouries in the castle itself hadn’t been touched in years. It’s a thankless but necessary job, time consuming and tedious, and alone in these quiet, isolated little rooms, his mind is definitely wandering.

Since the incident with the siren, Robin has fallen into his desire for the Queen like it was a lifelong habit. He is actually surprised it took him so long to realise what he felt for her. Quite apart from unsettling him, it actually explains a lot of things. Like why, despite his annoyance at her rudeness, he found himself affected in the basest of ways at the tone of her voice when she insulted him. Or why, when he was alone at night with his imagination, all he could see was her beautiful face scrunched in unbearable pleasure, crying his name as she writhed above him.

It has made life in the castle rather more distracting, though by no means less enjoyable. He takes a different kind of pleasure in riling her now: eagerly anticipating the fire in her eyes when she glares at him, the way she always, always rises to the bait.

With her never far from his mind, he simply can’t bring himself to concentrate very hard on counting yet another dozen shields. Of course, the armouries he set out to catalogue are in a shambles, and it has taken him all day to get to this one, the final of three. So, yes, his mind is wandering, and yes, the way Regina looks when he’s fought her for the last word, again, is hovering tantalisingly somewhere between memory and fantasy. The fantasy coming into play when he wonders how those arguments would go if they were alone when they had them…


Uh oh. That was definitely not in his imagination.

He glances up. There she stands, eyeing him with a disdainful look on her face. She is once again wearing the sinfully tight leather trousers that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination, except how he would go about removing them. They are topped with a looser-than-usual black silk blouse with elaborate flared sleeves and strings at the neckline that have been left loose. The blouse is cinched in at the waist by an embroidered red and black half-corset.

Robin presses his lips together and tongues the roof of his mouth.

Regina is smirking now; clearly his ogling hadn’t been subtle. He returns the smirk. After all, what does he have to lose?

“M'lady,” he greets, going back to the list of weapons and tallying the last of the shields before looking back at her.

“It’s Your Majesty,” she corrects him.

“Of course. What brings Your Majesty here? Nothing to be found at this end of the castle but a lowly thief and some severely disorganised weaponry.”

He’s perfectly aware she must have come here specifically to find him. She was the one to – very reluctantly, and with a lot of sarcasm – give him this room’s location when he posited the idea of taking inventory. Only a select few of the castle’s inhabitants know where all the armouries are: an insurance against both invaders and traitors. As it turned out, even Snow had been surprised to learn of this one.

“I know that,” she says dismissively. “It is my armoury.”

She surveys him then, that strange, appraising glint in her eye again. He keeps his expression politely interested. She doesn’t offer any explanations for her presence, though. Instead, she stalks towards him, watching him carefully, her lips curled in a half-smile that somehow still manages to show her teeth.

She comes to stand next to him, ostensibly looking at his scroll, but he can feel her scrutiny. She’s watching him for some sort of reaction; that much is clear. What reaction it is she’s waiting for, he’s not sure.

“A thief, taking inventory,” she says eventually, her voice low and conspiratorial. “How very against the grain.”

He meets her gaze, shrugs in that nonchalant way he knows aggravates her. Something sparks in her eyes and she leans closer, says, like she’s telling him a secret, “Not who I’d pick for the job,” scrunching her nose and brows in that absurdly attractive way she does.

“Is that why you’re here, Your Majesty? To supervise me?”

“Do you need supervising?” she challenges.

“Well,” he shrugs again, turning back to his scroll and starting to mark down the number of swords on the wall, “I can give you whatever answer I like, but if you trusted me enough to take me at my word, we wouldn’t be having this conversation now, would we?”

This, he thinks, would be the point where she usually walks away. She is fairly predictable in the things she refuses to talk about, especially (he thinks) with him. And she does walk away, but only as far as the pile of arrows in the corner, picking up the edge of the blanket covering them between two fingers and looking under it. She straightens, looking around the room at the clutter.

“Is this all you’ve managed to achieve?” she says, deliberately scornful. She’s stalling, he realises, and is intrigued to find out why.

“There are three armouries,” he reminds. And, because he can’t resist baiting her just a little, adds, “And the other two were in a similar state to this one.”

“Well, I didn’t leave them like this,” she says immediately, not missing the dig. “My knights spent more time worrying about weapons than I did. I had no use for such trinkets.”

“Indeed. You can be quite deadly all on your own, Your Majesty.”

Her eyes snap to his, and there’s that searching look again. He smiles at her, raising his eyebrows innocently.

“Yes,” she says slowly. “I can be… quite deadly.”

Her voice has gone all low and husky and he feels his cock stirring in response. Suddenly he’s not sure this is a wise game to be playing with her, not in these close quarters, not when her effect on him can become quite apparent, quite quickly.

“Unless, of course, your opponent happens to be a flying monkey,” he says, attempting to steer the banter back into lighter territory. She bristles, and he fights a smile.

She strides back towards him, all fierce indignation, and God, sometimes he just wants to grab this woman and kiss her senseless. Well, most of the time, actually.

“I did not need you to rescue me,” she hisses, once she’s close enough to throw the words in his face like a curse. He is losing the battle against the smile, his palms raised in surrender.

“I did not consider it a rescue. Merely… timely assistance.”

“I didn’t ask for your assistance.”

“You never do. But I’m afraid I shall likely continue to give it.”

She draws back slightly, that look on her face again like he’s a puzzle she can’t figure out.

“Why? What do you hope to gain?”

“Must I have an agenda? Perhaps I simply like to be useful. Perhaps I simply like you, and would prefer you remain whole and unharmed.”

Something darkens in her eyes then, and she smiles, like this was what she’d been expecting to find when she came looking for him all the way in this hidden little room. There’s something dark in the smile, too, a twisted sort of satisfaction from getting something she didn’t actually want.

She steps closer, reducing the space between them to a hand’s breadth or two. He doesn’t want to back away from her (quite the opposite), but that smile tells him he should.

“Oh, I bet you do like me,” she says, gravel and honey in her voice. She very obviously looks him up and down, and he can’t help but swallow. He can only hope she doesn’t see the very physical effect she’s having on him. They are in dangerous territory now, in more ways than one. But the storm in her eyes is the one he’s actually concerned about.

“You’re a thief,” she says, “and a man. You always have an agenda.”

She takes another small step forward. There is almost no space between them now, and despite knowing this isn’t a good idea, despite knowing she deserves better than what she thinks he wants, he is helpless to the desire rising hot and potent in his belly and chest and groin. He is half-hard already, and if she gets any closer, she will feel it and then he’s not sure he will have it in him to convince her that he doesn’t just want her for a quick fuck against the wall.

He steps away, large steps, crouches down and opens the small wooden cabinet full of quivers even though he’d only just started on the swords.

“My only agenda today, m'lady, is to complete this inventory in time to have dinner with my son.”

He glances at her over the cabinet door when she doesn’t respond, sees her wide-eyed, surprised expression. He turns back and pulls out an armful of quivers, depositing them on top of the cabinet for counting. He’s quite happy to give her a moment to recover from the discovery that someone is unwilling to take advantage of her.

When she speaks again, her voice makes it clear that this is her trump card – this is what she believes will back him into a corner.

“You never did mention what injured you on your scout for the sentinel root.”

He turns swiftly, abandoning all pretence of counting the quivers.

“Why don’t you ask the question you really want to know, m'lady?”

She looks startled again, but quickly masks it.

“Snow let a little something slip about what happened on that expedition. She’s always been terrible at keeping things to herself.”

Robin is not surprised at Snow and David’s lack of discretion. He raises his eyebrows in an expression of mild interest. Regina is trying to play games with him, and he’s not going to let her.

“Did she now? Should I be honoured that you’re coming to me for corroboration?”

Her brow furrows in annoyance. He is not making this easy for her.

“I know something attacked you.”

He nods.

“Yes, something did.”

She huffs in frustration.

“As Queen, it is important that I know every – ”

He cuts her off, impatient with all this pussyfooting around.

“I think you know what attacked me, Your Majesty. And because I believe you know the answer to your purported question, I can see two reasons why you would seek me out especially to ask it,” he says. “One, you believe what Snow told you is true, and you hope to humiliate me by forcing me to admit to it. Though, if that was indeed your aim, you might have chosen a more public venue, involve more witnesses in my humiliation.”

She opens her mouth, completely taken aback but her anger rising in automatic response to his forcefulness. He barrels on before she can find the words to strike with.

“Two, you don’t believe what Snow told you and are expecting me to deny it, in which case I really must question your powers of observation.”

She is silent for a moment. She has a stunned look on her face that he doesn’t think he has ever seen before. He feels a bizarre sense of pride at being able to surprise her. Then,

“You were seduced by a siren wearing my face.”

Continue on FF.net

Speed - Luke Hemmings

Requested? Yes No

There’s something about him… His need to go fast. He couldn’t stay at the speed limit for more than 5 minutes without going flat out down the motorway.

To him, speed was a drug. He felt alive & in control. But saying that, he lost control multiple times; rolling cars, smashing & burning, he even wrapped a pole. But that never has & never will stop him.

He rolled up to the meet in his Nissan GTR, all eyes on him. To everyone, this car looked as though it was just off the shelf, fresh from Nissan. But as soon as they recognised the driver, they knew the car had been personally modified.

“Yo, Luke!” His buddy, Calum called from across the lot. He was high as hell, his eyes bloodshot from corner to corner. “How you doin’ mate?”

“Sup Cal,” Luke chuckled, climbing out of the car. All eyes were on him & his ride. But it didn’t seem to faze him. “No offense man, but that joint stinks! How much fucking weed is in that shit?” He asked, waving the smoke clear from his face.

“Fuck knows man,” Calum laughed, wheezing a little. “You racing tonight bro?”

“Obviously,” he grinned, “I need to test this bad boy out.” He chuckled, patting the bonnet of the car.

“Lift the hood,” Calum smiled widely. “I wanna see what shit you did to this…” Luke easily obliged, eager to show of his new toy. Calum stood back in awe. “What the fuck?”

“Yea man,” Luke chuckled, “2L Diesel, twin turbo, a clean turbocharger connected to a fresh belt & crankshaft.” He mumbled, biting his lip. To say he was proud of this car was an understatement…

“This is fucking sweet!” Calum roared. “how fast have you driven it?”

“Only 60,” Luke sighed, “the fucking police were on my tail all week.”

“You better not have led them here…” Calum exclaims, looking around as if someone would be listening to their conversation. “Ashton & Michael would kill you if they found out the five-O were here.” He whispered. Ashton & Michael were big time dealers; coke & meth. They held these meets for drivers to come & race. The first couple of weeks, they just observed everyone, eyeing up the talent and seeing who they could make a wager off.

“Would they fuck,” Luke chuckled. “They made half of their fucking money betting on me & my drags.” He spoke confidently. Calum sighed, agreeing with half of his statement. They did bet on Luke, he was the talent they set their eyes on. He knew the roads & he knew his cars, seeing as that was all he had.

“LUKE!” Alex, the man in charge of the races yelled. “You’re up next, get your car ready & get your arse in line!” Luke gave him a thumbs up, signalling he would be there shortly.

“See you later man,” Luke said to Calum, “I’m going to burn this shit!” He yelled, shaking hands with Calum.

“Good luck man.” Calum smiled.

“Don’t need it.” Luke spoke cockily.

Luke pulled up to the starting line & rested back in his seat.

“Ready man?” Alex asked, leaning into Luke’s window.

“Yeah mate, who am I racing?” Luke chuckled. Just as he finished, his question was answered. A cherry red corvette pulled up to his side, Luke “oh’d” in excitement, until he seen the tinted windows roll down. Revealing a long haired brunette, with cherry red lips to match her car. Luke laughed at the thought of racing a girl. “A girl?” He chuckled to Alex, who shook his head from amazement before turning to speak to the female driver.

“She’s ready!” Alex yelled to Luke before jogging to get any girl willing to lend her bra for the race.

“Hi.” Luke smiled to the girl parallel to him.

“Hello,” she smiled sweetly, showing her pearly whites.

“Are you sure you want to do this sweetheart?” He chuckled, “because you will lose.”

“Yes I want to do this, Luke Hemmings.” She giggled, Luke only smirked. She knew who he was, meaning she knew he had a reputation of being the champion street racer. “You know love,” she started, Luke looked at her intently as she spoke. “Confidence is great and all, but sometimes…” She grinned, “sometimes it can be a curse.” Luke eyebrows narrowed.

“What’s your name?” He asked simply.

“(y/n).” She smiled, shooting him a wink before turning to face Alex, who had returned with a bright red lace bra.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!” Alex yelled, catching everyone’s attention. “This is a simple drag, first person to pass the quarter mile line wins.” He chuckled. “What are your bets?” He asked the two drivers.

“Pink slips!” (y/n) yelled confidently, causing an unwelcomed chill to shoot up Luke’s spine.

“Pink slips?” Alex asked Luke, who nodded hesitantly. “Okay, let’s go…”


Luke hit the pedal with full force, pulling away just before (Y/N), causing him to smirk. ‘Silly girl’ he thought to himself.
Before he knew it, the cherry red corvette caught him. The two cars fought for distance, till she pulled slightly ahead, crossing the quarter mile mark with him following literally 2 seconds behind. Luke hit the breaks, hard, causing him to jolt forward.
He sat still, in shock for about 5 minutes before returning to the start line.

He pulled up beside the cherry red corvette, climbing out at the same time as the long haired brunnette. His jaw dropped as she stepped out wearing a pair of skin tight leather trousers, white vans & a plain white crop top. He could have sworn his pants felt tighter than hers after looking at her. She had long legs & a natural tan. His mouth was dry as he practically stared at her.

“Luke!” She called, running up to him. “that was a great race, you almost got me.” She giggled.

“Yea,” he mumbled with stiff features, still memorised by her beauty.

“Is something wrong?” She asked looking worried, “I sure hope your not a sore loser…” She giggled.

“Uh, no…” He coughed, trying to get a sentence out. “I haven’t been beaten in a race before, well done.” He chuckled. She had a face you literally could not be mad at.

“You underestimated me, didn’t you?” She giggled.

“A little.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. Worry sprung upon him as he thought of Ashton & Michael and how much money they may have lost, since he lost the race. ‘Shit-’ he thought to himself, but his thoughts were interrupted by Alex.

“AND THE WINNER IS,” he started, then realised he didn’t even know the girls name. “Wait what’s your name?” He chuckled.

“(Y/N), (Y/N) Clifford.” She giggled, Luke’s eyes widened.

“Clifford? As in Michael Clifford?”

“Yea, he’s my br-” she started, but was cut off by another voice.

“I’m her brother… Well, step brother.” Michael chuckled, referring to their polar opposite appearances, before casually strolling up to her & Luke. “and don’t worry, I put my money on my baby sister…” He chuckled, “congratulations by the way.” He whispered in (Y/N)’s ear as she handed him the keys to the cherry red corvette.

“She’s a good fucking racer…” Luke chuckled, “you, yourself know I haven’t been beaten before… Until now.” He smiled at the beautiful brunette.

“Well, she’s going to be racing here more often.” He chuckled, “just not against-” Michael was cut off by the sounds of sirens, “fuck.” He growled. The crowd began to flee in all directions, while (y/n) stood their in shock.

“I’ll take (y/n), you take the corvette.” Luke suggested, Michael hesitated slightly before nodding. Luke grabbed her hand, leading her to the GTR, “get in, quick.” She nodded, climbing in the car, before the speeded off eagerly.

After 20 minutes of avoiding the police, (y/n) & Luke pulled into an empty parking lot.

“We’ll have to walk from here.” He mumbled, climbing out of the car.

“That was some pretty good driving too,” she giggled, “we got rid of them pretty quick.”

“It’s all in the car,” he smiled & the car that had become his pride and joy. His smile faltered as he realised the deal he made. “Speaking of the car,” he sighed, holding the keys out to (y/n). “It’s yours now.” She just giggled before taking the keys out of his hand & wrapping her arm behind him, chest to chest, before slipping them into his back pocket.

“I didn’t actually want your car.” She smiled, he chest still touching Luke. “I just wanted you to know that I was that confident.”

“But a deals a deal.” He frowned.

“If you make me take that car,” she smiled, “I will scrap it.” His eyes widened at the thought.

“I’m not having that happen so, I guess it’s still mine.” He chuckled, before their eyes locked.

“You’re easily pleased, Hemmings.” She mumbled. Their chests were still touching, but her hands were in the back pockets of her skin tight leather bottoms.

“I beg to differ,” he whispered, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

“We’ll see..” She smiled, as their faces inched closer. One of his hands cupped the side of her face, as their lips met, the other snaked around her waist to pull her closer. Her hands went to his hair, as she tugged at the roots of blonde. Before they knew it, he was lifting her up by her thighs & sitting her on the hood of the white Nissan.
“Shit,” he groaned, as she grinded against his lower half. “You’re so beautiful.” She moaned in response, smiling into the kiss.

They spent hours in the dark parking lot, on the hood, and Let’s just say he was never, getting rid of that car.

a/n: I hope you enjoyed this! All of the details in this piece of writing are accurate, I used to go to the racing tracks in the place where Calum’s dad is actually from! Don’t forget to tell me what you think x

anonymous asked:

If you are taking prompts, Dimples Queen - Roland gets sick (or hurt or something) and Regina takes care of him and promises she will always be there to take care of him. (EF or SB, your choice).

He has stilled against her finally, small fingers curled over three of her own as his chest rattles with each of his deep inhales. She’d had Granny concoct him a soothing liquid, thick with honey and steaming, to help clear the illness clinging to his lungs and it’s not fatal nor anywhere near dangerous. It’s just terribly unpleasant.

She’d been walking past the open doors of Robin’s chambers when she’d heard him call for her with such a weak little voice that she’d retraced her steps quickly to find him practically buried beneath thick blankets, his head embedded deep into a soft feather pillow. The nursemaid had told her of his symptoms, his heated forehead, his hacking coughs and had informed her that his father was out on another of the Charmings’ scouting missions and was not due to return until after nightfall. She’d cursed them both silently before assuring the woman that she was happy to remain with the toddler.

As soon as the door had closed behind the young woman, Regina had toed off her high heeled boots, waved a hand over herself to swap her tight corseted bodice and tight leather trousers for a softer, simpler pale blue dress and had taken the pins from her long locks to allow them to tumble over her shoulders uninhibited. She’d looked to find Roland shifting a little in the bed, though there was plenty room with his tiny frame taking up barely any space, in order to allow her to climb in next to him.

She’d sat back against the headboard and helped him onto her lap, smiling softly when his head instantly fell to rest upon her chest and the hand not grabbing at her own moving to bury itself in the hair at the nape of her neck with his arm around her shoulders. “Will you sing to me R’gina?” he’d asked sleepily, throat scratchy and sore when he’d finished drinking from the mug Granny had sent in for him.

“Of course my little knight.”

She’d sang one of Henry’s favourites, a sense of anguished nostalgia clawing at her but she’d ignored it, changing only one line when she began following the melody slowly and softly whilst rubbing a gentle palm up and down the length of Roland’s back.

You are my sunshine,

My little sunshine.

You make me happy,

When skies are grey.

You’ll never know dear,

How much I love you.

Please don’t take my sunshine away.


She couldn’t sing the word only, not when her boy was still so very present in her heart, in her every breath. She’d sang it through a few times before he’d finally fallen heavy against her, deep breaths tickling at her chest and it’s now, as she reaches the end of the third round of the song, that the bedroom doors open once more, revealing a rather concerned looking Robin.

She smiles in greeting, a warm thing that has his brow unfurrowing somewhat, though he still appears worried (as she would have been if it were Henry succumbing to a sickness without her being there) as he makes his way over to them. “How is he doing?” he whispers quietly, eyes on his boy as he comes to crouch on their side of the bed, the urge to touch Roland visible in the way his fingers clench at the mattress.

“He’s fine,” she tells him, “just a little rundown but his breathing seems to be easing and he hasn’t coughed for quite some time.”

He nods at that before looking to her finally, a familiar smile lifting his mouth as he tells her “thank you for being here for him,” before he’s lifting up only enough to buss her lips with his own.

She’s still unused to such easy affection, touched by the smallest of gestures and she finds she quite enjoys the warmth that fills her chest as she watches him sit back into a crouch, the words falling from her mouth so very easily and sincerely. “I’ll always be here for him.” And when Robin smiles with eyes crinkled with adoration as he looks at her, she lifts the hand Roland doesn’t have a hold of to press a warm palm to his cheek and tells him “you too, if you’ll have me.”

And it’s not a question but he can hear the vulnerability there, the real question beneath her statement as he turns his face to press a kiss to her palm and tells her “there’s nothing I want more Regina.”