Feb 21, 2024
“Shush you’re here forever” 😏
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“Shush you’re here forever” 😏
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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😈
Dark!Greg
"-- well shit, you've found me out. I hope you know, you won't be leaving this room then."
I've thought about killing someone. I mean recreationally. Out of anger. In my line of work, I've killed plenty of people; mostly people who threatened to kill me or people around me. It was self-defence. I've only ever shot people. Once--just once I'd like to feel someone's life force drain away underneath my fingers, or bleed out because of the knife I've shoved into their chests. I want to see the light drain from their eyes up close an personal.
I'm past the point of being frightened of these urges. By this point, I just want to get it over with. I don't care what happens after. I'm fucked up enough that the Yard'll figure it out soon enough and slowly wean me out of the system and force me to retire, so where's the harm? They'll throw me in jail, but that's fine. Or I could run away, leave London. Something. I just need it.
The drinking and the smoking and the fucking isn't helping anymore. Hell, I've even shot up two or three times--God forbid anyone see the trackmarks--but it's no use. I just--I need to. I need it. I need something new and I can't think of what else to do.
I'm helpless to this desire. And the worst part is is that I can't even remember how wrong it is.
Ω
Occasional partner, occasional fuck. You're a good man, brilliant in bed, one hell of a bloody shot. I enjoy calling you a mate; I'd hate to be an enemy, or at the end of your barrel. We work well together.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
On a Job || Greg and Seb
He was supposed to be working with someone, but they had yet to show up. Greg was getting frustrated, waiting by the water's edge, guitar case leaning on the rail beside him, cugarette in his mouth and glanced down at his watch for the tenth time in fifteen minutes.
The only information Greg got on the man he was supposed to be working with was his name; Sebastian Moran. The name was spoken as if Greg was supposed to know who that was, but he honestly hadn't a clue. He was still relatively new to this side of crime, and name's didn't mean a whole lot to him. Whoever this Moran bloke was, he was late.